92 comments/ 54484 views/ 31 favorites Isn't That How You Got Her? By: qhml1 Talk about crying in your beer! He was, literally. He was on his fourth or fifth when I got there, something came[snigger]up and I was running a little late. Sliding onto the stool beside him, I pointed at him, and soon yet another beer was in front of him. I had a boilermaker, it was miserable outside, sleeting sideways under a stiff wind. It felt like grains of sand being thrown at your face. I needed something to warm me up quick. I dropped the shot glass of brandy into the mug, and chugged it down. The next one slid down even easier. I went back to just beer afterward, I had achieved the rosy glow I was looking for. I probably would nurse this one until I left. Tony was starting to lose it, so I got a table and ordered him some food, asking him to hold off on the drinking for awhile. I wanted him near enough to sober to fully understand our talk. He almost inhaled a dozen hot wings and a large order of fries. Guess he shouldn't have skipped lunch earlier. I knew he'd never find her in an hour, and he didn't. "Bitch was right there in front of me, then she just up and disappears. I checked her mom, her girlfriends, the people she works with. Nobody knew anything." He paused, and took a gulp of beer. "Do you think Chris would cheat on me? We've only been married for a year. Could she really do something like that?" I let him ramble for a minute before I stopped him. "Tony, be honest here. Isn't that how you got her?" ... His mouth hung open for a second before he went into a rant. "You asshole! How could you say a thing like that?" I tried to keep a serious face, hoping he wouldn't be able to see my eyes through the dim lighting and alcoholic fog. "I can say it, Tony, because it's true. You were both married when you hooked up, to each others' best friends at the time. There's a precedent here. If she'll cheat on one husband, what's to stop her from doing it to another? After all, she's had a little practice now, she's probably pretty good at hiding it." He was listening intently, you could almost see the thought gaining traction in his muddled brain. I pushed forward. "Maybe she's been spending a lot of time with friends. Does she go on a girl's night out often? Ever wonder when you're bowling and she doesn't answer the house phone where she could be? Or if the cell goes straight to voicemail, then she calls you back a few minutes later, out of breath? It's all easily explainable. Motive and opportunity, Tony. If she wants to cheat she will find a way, and you can do jack shit about it." "No, no," he whined, holding his head, "she loves me." "Says the man who was all over Gloria when I walked in. Let me guess, you just needed a shoulder to cry on." Gloria was the local punchboard. The girl had issues. She was pretty, not dumb by any means, but for some reason she had a hard time saying "No." She made a run at me and I actually took her out on a real date. Most just met her at the bar, poured a few drinks into her, and took her to their apartment or a cheap motel. I wined her, dined her, took her dancing, and at the end of the night took her home, gave and received a couple very nice kisses, and left. She was all over me the next evening. "Why did you leave?" "Because the date was over. I had a really good time, by the way. I'd really like to do it again sometime." "The answer will be yes, whenever you ask," she said grinning, "but you know what I'm talking about. You know I would have tried my best to fuck you blind if I could have gotten you into my apartment." "Why?" "Why what?" she asked, obviously confused. "Why would you have wanted to fuck me blind? Because I took you out, tried to show you a good time? Because you thought it was what I was after, something that you felt you owed me? News flash baby, I like to get to know someone I'm interested in, see if we fit, see if I want to take it past a first date. I'm thirty two, my days of banging and bailing are long over. If that's all you want, every guy at this bar and some of the women would love to be your fuck buddy. It's just not me, honey." "Are you sure you're a man? You're not some romance novel hero come to life through some weird ass curse or magic, are you?" "Just a guy," I laughed, "maybe a bit out of the norm, but still just a guy." We talked for a bit more. Just before we parted she asked me a question I had trouble answering. What's wrong with me, Chill? Why do I do these things. And please, be honest. I can take it." I sighed. "Hon, I don't really know you that well. But I'll tell you what I think based on what I do know. I think something in your past had made you really insecure, damaged your self image. It might be why you sleep with everyone who asks. You're an attractive woman, Gloria, but sitting around is this bar is wearing on you. Not to hurt your feelings, but you've developed a little gut, and your skin is suffering from not getting enough sun." I watched her face as what I said sunk in. Oddly, she didn't look to be in pain, it seemed more reflective. "Here's Dr. Chills' recommendation. Spend less time in the bars. Join a gym, an exercise class, maybe take up running. Spend more time outside. Put the word 'no' in your vocabulary. And Gloria, do it for yourself, not because me or anyone else tells you to. Learn to love yourself before you try to find love with anyone else." She nodded once or twice, stood, kissed me on the cheek and left. I didn't see her again for two weeks. Turning my attention back to Tony, I probably should have been more empathetic with him, I'd been cheated on before. Four years and it still hurt. "I bet that's what she told her first husband, every time she came home from spending time with you. She might even have meant it, who knows for sure? You most likely said the same thing to your wife at the time. Maybe you guys really believed it, then. When did it stop being a fling and start being a relationship?" I had him reeling, and I wasn't easing up, even as painful memories were dredged up. He needed to see what kind of person he was. "Her husband worked so damn much. I mean, he was my best friend, but he was so serious all the time. My wife wasn't quite as bad, but she sometimes had to work long hours. I'd call, hoping to get Charley, he wouldn't be there and we'd end up talking. We started eating out together every once in a while. Charley knew it, we weren't trying to hide anything, and he actually thanked me. Jen[his wife]was up for that promotion, so she put the hours in, did the traveling even though she hated it. She was all right with us spending time too, saying she knew I was safe from temptation if I was with her best friend." He paused, a slight grin on his face. "It was an accident, the first time. We got smashed, I couldn't even drive, we had to cab it back to her house. We opened another bottle of wine, and by the time it was finished we were all over each other. God, did we feel awful the next morning. Swore it would never happen again, and that we would never tell." "We made it for about four months before it happened again. Jen was in Cleveland, and Charley was in Atlanta. We never even made it out of the house. We took one look at each other and I grabbed her hand, dragging her to the bedroom. She tried to stop me, but not very hard. I felt like such an ass for fucking her in his bed, but couldn't stop myself. We fucked in every position we could imagine for two days. She gives state of the art blowjobs, and said I ate pussy better than a lesbian." "The flood gates were open. We started seeing each other while they were in town, long lunches, afternoons at their house since she didn't work. We got sloppy, and they both surprised us one afternoon." "Jen was screaming, he was yelling, Chris was crying, and I got stupid. I was about to hit Charley when Jen slammed me with her purse. It felt like she'd filled it with rocks, but it was just the junk she insists on having in there. She managed to dislocate my jaw. It still hurts when it turns cold and wet." He stopped, rubbing his jaw, remembering. "What happened then?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Readers' Digest version, we all got divorced. I got hosed pretty good in the settlement because this isn't a no fault state, and Chris didn't do very well either. She got forty percent to his sixty. He insisted they sell the house unless she could buy his part, knowing how much she loved it, and all the hours she spent making it a showcase. No way she could swing it, so it got sold. She also got the bare minimum of alimony, for three years unless she remarried. The business was exempted due to a prenupt." "But you guys told me you married less than a year later," I interjected as he paused to take a drink, "surely that cost her the alimony." "It did. But it wasn't that much to start with. I had a good job, and she went back to work. It gave us a decent living. Not the lifestyle we had before, but our bills were paid and we had a little left over. We're talking about trying to get a house next year." "Good for you guys! I had a house once, years ago. Ownership is a beautiful thing." It was, I remembered it well. He sighed. "Yeah, well, plans may change. I just don't know now." "Cheer up!" I said, heartily. "I'm sure it's nothing. Let me tell you about my night. I've met someone, a real babe. She's everything I'd want in a woman. I think she has feelings for me, but there's a drawback. She's already married." His drunk leer was back. "You sneaky bastard! I never pictured you going after a married woman. Be careful bro, I know from experience some husbands can get downright snippy if they find out." He paused, grinning. "Still, it's a rush isn't it? Like hunting an endangered specie or joyriding in a Maserati. You know it's wrong and illegal, but that's where the fun is." I sighed. "Yeah, well, I doubt I'll pursue it. Still, she's one fine female. Have another with me, and I'll drive you home. We can pick your car up tomorrow." He grumbled but agreed. He'd already had one driving while intoxicated conviction, and couldn't afford another. ... I looked over at him while I drove. he was passed out and drooling. He would never have had a clue if I hadn't been sending snippets of information, making general observations, asking vague questions. All that, and the fact he wasn't getting any, had him wracked with suspicion. He couldn't focus at work, couldn't sleep well, he probably jerked off now on a regular basis. I pulled into his garage. His wife Chris came out expecting to see his car. "What are you doing here, Chill? Where's Tony?" "Asleep. I'll get him in the house if you'll hold the door open." Her eyes tightened in anger, but she helped me get him into the house and onto his bed. She took his shoes off, loosened his tie, and stepped back. "That'll hold him. I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight. Thanks for bringing him home. You're a better friend than he deserves." "I'm exactly what he deserves," I thought, as I hit her up for coffee. "I'm not drunk, but I've had a few. We don't have to work tomorrow, so I'll come by after lunch and take him to get his car. Is that all right?" Luckily it wasn't late, he was blitzed before ten, so she agreed, and we spent a pleasant ninety minutes talking. I think she was a little lonely, and I led the conversation back to her, learning all I could. Why was I doing this? Because she was the married woman I was interested in, and I fully intended to take her away from him. Was I a rotten bastard? Damn right. But I had my reasons. ... Before I turned into a flaming asshole of epic proportions, I thought I was a pretty good guy. Didn't drink to excess, do drugs, gamble, chase other women. Sandy, my wife, said I had to be what Boy Scouts aspired to. I worked hard at a decent job, loved my wife, even went to church. Apparently though, Sandy didn't want a boy scout, she wanted an asshole, and she went out and got one. Then she got another. She was up to Asshole #3 when I caught her. What I was unprepared for was her sheer arrogance. It seems giving her everything she wanted gave her a disproportionate sense of entitlement. "Oh, just get over it already. I still love you, I just need a little extra. You've been getting seconds for almost the whole time we've been married. Hasn't hurt you yet, has it? I make sure they're clean, and make sure they don't cut into our time together. Pitch a fit, do something stupid, and I'll take everything you have." She didn't know it at the time, but she'd already taken everything that I had. All the rest was just stuff, and I could always get more stuff. The lawyer I got said pretty much the same thing. Just because she'd admitted to it didn't mean a thing unless I had proof. Even then the best I could hope for was fifty per cent. Did I hire a PI, wire the house, put GPS in her car, bug her purse? No. I bought a tiny recorder at Best Buy for thirty nine bucks, and called her up, offering to see if we could try one more time. "About time," she huffed, telling me where and when we were going to meet,"And don't try anything stupid. I'll know." Well, that plan went out the window. I got a friend of my parents and her husband to come to the restaurant she picked, and record the conversation from three tables away, using something she'd picked up off television. Partially deaf, she had earbuds and a small box the size of a phone that amplified sound. She was able to tape the whole conversation. I still have it. Instead of trying to reconcile, she spent forty minutes welcoming me to my new lifestyle as a willing cuckhold, explaining a whole list of rules I was expected to follow. I just barely kept a straight face, told her I'd think about it, and left. She didn't offer a hug or kiss, just walked away. My marriage didn't go out with a bang, it didn't even rate a whisper. But it did rate a grin from my lawyer. He actually laughed when I told him I wanted her to have everything, the house, the cars, the boat, etc. She also got all the payments. All I took was twenty grand from our savings, which she in her arrogance didn't close out, and disappeared for three years. ... I had a skill set that was apparently very desirable in the Middle East. No, I wasn't a mercenary. I had one actual fight in the third grade, and got beaten pretty bad. My Dad put me in Golden Gloves. I was pretty good at it, but didn't really pursue it seriously. I knew bottling lines. My company made apple juice and sauce, and subcontracted for a sports drink company in the off season. We'd gotten a new labeling machine that no one knew how to run or repair. The manual was crap and the company didn't have anyone to send to help us out. So I experimented, and we learned through trial and error. I completely rewrote the manual, making the instructions simple and included a trouble shooting chapter. When production jumped thirty percent everyone noticed, and soon the corporate boys were down to see why. The drink company ended up giving me a check for the manual, and used it in their other locations. They offered me a job but it was in Chicago and it was February, and my wife said no pretty fast. The episode got me recognition, and a headhunter called, offering me jobs in different locations with different companies, all of which I said no to until my marriage imploded. The next time he called I told him I'd consider it if he'd find me something as far away from where I was as possible. He went quiet for a second. "How about Saudi Arabia? They're actually looking for someone with your particular skill set." Wow. Well, I did say far away. "I didn't know Saudi Arabia raised apples." "It's not apples, it's water. Actually, it's a pretty neat setup. They make fresh water out of sea water, and sell it and the sea salt they extract. Nothing is wasted. They need a production manager pretty bad, and the pay is great." "What's the catch? There has to be one." He sighed. "The catch is it's Saudi Arabia. You're eight miles from the nearest town, and if you go the company won't be responsible. You probably wouldn't get killed, kidnap for ransom is the big thing right now. But you do get one week off every quarter, and they'll even fly you anywhere you want to go. The pay is three times what you make now, and there's a fifteen thousand dollar signing bonus after you complete the first year, ten the next, and you have to sign a two year contract." He continued the pitch. "On the plus side, housing and meals are provided, so living expenses are limited to any extras you want. You work twelve days on, two off, and like I said, one week a quarter vacation. Think about it." I was waffling about it until she did something really stupid. She and her asshole of the moment were outside in the parking lot when I got off work. I saw them and kept right on walking, thought about it, and went back to her car, standing outside his window. "Chill, come over to my side, this shit has gone on long enough." She was frowning, and he had a goofy smirk on his face. "I can hear you just fine from here, cunt. You need to leave. I have nothing to say to you or your dick of the month. Does he know he's the third since we married, or have you professed true love to him yet?" She started to say something but he beat her to it. "I figured I wasn't the first, but I intend to be the last. She's found a real man now. I'll keep her in line." I enjoyed her frown for a second. "I bet that's what her first said. Hope you got a good job, the bitch is high maintenance. Her favorite saying is 'I want', and if you've ever put your hand in snow you'll get an idea of how cold your bed will be until she gets what she wants. Now piss off, and never come here again. In fact, if you can get the slut to never speak to me again, I'll make it worth your while. Since we split up, I've met some real hotties. Next time she cuts you off or calls you little dick, give me a call. I'll see if I can't hook you up. I'm surprised really, when she told me about you she said your dick isn't anywhere near as big as mine. You're just going to be easier to control, and if she wants bigger, she'll start trolling. She's done it to me three times and I was clueless. Think about it." I put my hand on my zipper. "Wanna see it, honey, just once more for old times sake? When I walk away it goes with me. It'll just be little dick here, and your vibrators until you find someone bigger." She was furious. People leaving could hear the conversation and were grinning like mad. She was so red in the face I was afraid[hoping]she was going to stroke out on me. Little Dick had finally had enough. "I'm gonna kick your ass!' he screamed as he opened the door. I was standing just out of reach, and when he put his leg outside, I grabbed the door with both hands and shoved as hard as I could. He wasn't expecting it, and I heard a crunch and he screamed. I backed up and pulled out my phone, hitting 911. Soon the cops showed up, then the ambulance. He had a hairline fracture on both bones in his lower left leg. They talked to witnesses I'd asked to stay around, and after the third person told them he had threatened me they just filled out a report. My soon to be ex was furious when she found out I wasn't going to get arrested. "Why aren't you going to arrest him?," she screamed at the cop. "What for ma'am? As far as I can tell, he never threatened violence, and so far it's still legal to insult someone. Your friend told him he was going to hurt him when he got out of the car, and he acted in self defense. Maybe you'd like to go to the hospital now, check on your friend." He turned to me. "Would you like a restraining order against them? It would be fairly easy when they read my report. Might save you some grief down the road." Isn't That How You Got Her? He had his back to her and was grinning. "Thanks, officer. I hadn't thought of that. I'll be down first thing tomorrow to fill out the papers." I looked over at Deb and grinned. She drew in a breath but decided against speaking, got behind the wheel, and drove off. I had one more shot left in me. "Unless I'm mistaken, there's no insurance on that car, officer. Might want to check that out." Since the car was in my name, I'd canceled the insurance two weeks ago. Surprise, bitch. She was standing beside her car trying to explain things twenty minutes later when I drove by. I tapped the horn and waved. She looked at me and it hit her. I could almost hear her screaming as I drove off. ... Saudi Arabia was interesting. It wasn't fun, it wasn't torture, it was just plain boring. All we did was work, eat, and sleep. We had satellite TV, the latest movies on video, a gym, basketball and tennis courts. We had internet, so we could talk to friends, do Facebook, even take online classes. Very few of the workforce were women, for obvious reasons. The ones that were there were usually married to another worker. Putting that many guys with that few women was, naturally, a recipe for disaster. If you get horny enough, a gold band doesn't slow you down much. Over half the couples either left before contract end or ended up divorced. I kept my hormones in check until I got to France every quarter. Despite being rude and having a low opinion of Americans, I found French girls still loved to fuck us, especially if you're spending money on them. I learned to get out of the larger towns. The smaller towns tended to be a little friendlier, the girls cleaner, the prices lower. Loved the Riviera though, and the nude beaches. Went to a couple of casinos and watched fools losing money. I played a little, key word being little, just enough to keep from getting thrown out. Bet once on a game I couldn't pronounce and didn't understand, let the bet ride fives times before I cashed out. I flipped when I was told I'd won eighty thousand Euros. Not knowing what to do with it, I banked it at the casino. The next vacation found me with a small comped room and all the extras. I lost eight thousand, which made the management happy. The next trip I won it back and twenty thousand more. The next I got a little drunk and stupid and lost forty thousand. I never went back. Surprisingly, the years passed fairly quickly. I had decided, thanks to my gambling winnings, that I wasn't going to stay another year. They surprised me when I told them, offering me the job of assistant manager with a forty per cent pay increase, and a thirty thousand signing bonus. After considering it for a few days, I signed. I would contact my lawyer, talk to my mom and step brother once a month, just to keep in touch. My ex, to put it mildly, was not happy when I left the country. I had given power of attorney to the lawyer. It was pretty simple, really. She got all the joint assets in the marriage minus the twenty thousand I'd took. The net worth was far more than the debt, so despite her objections the judge granted the divorce, citing the assets would more than make up any alimony she'd be given. Of course, she couldn't afford everything without my income, and her new man left fairly early, saying he wasn't paying for things he'd never own. She managed to sell the house at a small profit, as well as my boat and everything else, and left town. I ended up working one more year as plant manager. I might have still been there if I hadn't got a call from my mother. ... She was crying. "It's Charley. He's been in a bad accident. You need to come home." Charley was my step brother. Mom had married his dad twelve years ago, three years after my real father disappeared. He was a good man, treated mom well, and seemed to like me. After a year I would just introduce him as my dad, something he seemed to like. Charley was about ten when they married. I'd never had siblings, but was old enough to enjoy him. I made his day when I broke up a fight after school one day. He was on the losing end when I waded in. I was a senior in high school, and he was in the first year of middle school. The schools were side by side and I would walk over and collect Charley, driving us home. "Leave him alone, assholes! If you touch my brother again I'll kick your ass." I'm a pretty large guy, and the twelve and thirteen year old bullies backed off fast. I boxed Golden Gloves like I said before, even won a regional championship when I was fifteen, but I soon realized I would never be good enough to make a career out of it. Still, the skills I learned came in handy from time to time. That afternoon, I found my old gloves and worked with him. Soon we were sparring or training four days a week. It paid off when he knocked the shit out of two bullies a year later, and they weren't even picking on him. I only had five weeks to go on my contract, and had told them I would not renew. It was time to go home. Under the circumstances, they waived my final weeks, wishing me well and making me promise to keep them in mind if I wanted to come back. When I got there, he was in a coma and it didn't look good. "What happened?" Mom sighed. "Things haven't been going well for him lately. He lost his wife because she cheated on him with his best friend, then his company closed. He started drinking. They say it was a factor in the wreck." We held vigil, we prayed, but eight days later he passed. His ex was at visitation for a few minutes. I was going into the bathroom, and got a glimpse of a blonde hugging my mom. She was gone when I got back. She didn't go to the funeral. Turns out I was executor of his estate. It also turned out that even though his company closed they had him on full salary and benefits for six months. He had two weeks left when he passed, so his insurance paid most of his medical bills. He also had a company paid life insurance policy of fifty thousand, double indemnity. Since he died from an accident, it paid. He had recently changed the beneficiary to me. He also had a private policy in the same amount naming mom, so we both ended up with a hundred thousand apiece. His savings finished up the medical bill. ... I asked mom about his exwife. He'd married about eight months after I left, and I never got to meet her. "I liked her. She was a sweet little thing, trusting and gentle. I think she really loved him." "If she loved him, why did they divorce?" "He left her alone too much. He was driven to succeed, and his job called for travel and long hours. His best friend, the snake[she said this with more disgust than I had ever heard from her], seduced her. He was married, so he ruined two marriages. She begged Charley to forgive her, but he was too hurt. She ended up married to the snake. It won't take that too long to implode. She doesn't deserve it, but he does." ... So there I was. Between my saved wages and the life insurance policy, I was sitting on a little over four hundred thousand, cash. I didn't need to find a job right away, even though the headhunter I's used before called me almost weekly with opportunities. I told him I wanted to take a few months off, I'd call when I was ready to go back to work. I talked to my brothers' friends. I talked to the snakes' exwife. "He's an asshole. I just was too much in love with him to see it. I'd like to say I hate her for having the affair, but she was just as much a victim as I was. I can't believe she married him." ... Well, by now you've guessed the woman I seduced was my brothers' exwife, and the snake was Tony. I did my research before I decided what action to take. While I was pretty much over it, my experience with my wife left me with a low regard for cheaters. I'd found Charley's journal on his computer, going back six years. He talked about meeting Chris, how he'd fallen in love with her. He filled three pages expressing his joy when she'd agreed to marry him, more planning their future together. The last year in he was expressing concerns about the times he left her alone, worrying that she might be drifting away from him, worrying about the innocence and gullibility that had partially drawn him to her. The discovery of her cheating was revealed in disjointed rants and bouts of deep despair. Even then he may have forgiven her if Tony hadn't given him tapes of them together, revenge for his own wife divorcing him. His last entry was two days before he died. Chris had called him, crying, begging for a chance to talk to him. He was thinking of it and Tony found out and sent him some more tapes. Charley seemed to think Chris didn't know she was being taped. He had been drinking the night he died, but the autopsy showed he was well below the legal limit. I think he had too much on his mind and wasn't paying attention. ... It was amazingly easy to slip into their lives. I applied for and got a job at his company, making about a third of what I was overseas. I shrugged during the interview when the HR man asked why I was there instead of still overseas. "I got tired of it, and lonely. When all you do is work and can see women once every thirteen weeks, you don't have much of a life. I want to meet somebody, settle down. You can't meet Miss Right when your address is all wrong." It seemed to satisfy them, so the next week I was working beside him. He was just as arrogant and egotistical as I thought he would be. In three weeks I'd been invited to their boys night out at a local pub every Thursday, where I bought the cheap bastard drinks until he was out of it. I talked to the other guys, and to a man they didn't care for him. "Watch your woman whens he's around. He's a jerk, but he's got a line of shit and when he turns on the charm he could talk a nun out of her panties. Sad, really. His wife is the sweetest thing you'll ever meet and smokin' hot" After the third time drinking with them, I ended up taking him home. I pulled up, knocked on the door lightly. When she answered, I almost lost my breath. I'd seem pictures, but they didn't do her justice. You could tell she had a nice shape under that robe, her almost platinum blonde hair straggling out of the loose ponytail. Her eyes were so blue they were startling at first. Despite their beauty, they were sad, tired, and older than her body. Suddenly I felt unsure of my path. "Hi. I don't know if Tony has ever talked about me, but I'm Chill. We've been working together for a while. We got a little carried away, things got a little out of hand, and we thought it best he not drive." She shook my hand hesitantly, then held the door as I half carried, half steered him into the bedroom. He fell on the bed like a chopped tree, out instantly. I started to straighten him but she told me to leave him. Chris walked me to the door, thanked me for watching over him, and started to close it. "Hold on for just a second. Tell him to call me if he needs a ride to work in the morning. He can pick up his car on the way. It was a pleasure to meet you Chris. Good night." After thanking me again. she closed the door. I engineered a way to meet them socially. I admit Chris was a stunner, great body and long blonde hair. A little cupid's bow mouth, and really great legs. They seemed to say they had to be fantastic in order to hold up that amazing ass. She seemed nice. Chris frowned a little when we were introduced, seeming to search her memory. I didn't have the same last name as Charley or my mom, and she had never seen me before. She'd probably seen pictures of me, all taken many years ago. I was bigger[you tend to bulk up when one of your relief valves is exercising], had much shorter hair, and a goatee. ... Finally, I dropped the bomb on good old Tony, sending him a recording of me having sex with Chris. I had blurred my face out, so he couldn't tell who the man was screwing his wife. He ranted to me, promising death and dismemberment when he caught whoever it was. He also promised to kick Chris out. "First I'm gonna teach that bitch a lesson. She won't have much to offer in the way of looks to her new man when I'm done with her." "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Tony. Is she worth going to jail over? Walk away, man." I was really hoping he'd ignore my advice. I didn't want her physically hurt, but seeing him do a little jail time wouldn't displease me. I called Chris. "Time to go to Plan B. Tony knows, I don't know how. We must not have been as careful as we thought. He's pretty pissed and on his way home." "Go to my house, pull into the garage and close the doors. DO NOT answer the door if he comes over, call the cops immediately. I'll be home shortly and we'll plan what to do next." I already knew what to I was gonna do next. The house was a rental, the car was a lease, and my job was pretty much a joke. We were getting out of town as fast as we could. She had already moved a lot of small stuff, and she didn't want the furniture. I did have her go to the bank and take exactly half of their money out of their checking and savings account, making her put it into an account in her name only. Mostly just to piss him off. It worked. "I'm gonna kill that bitch!" he ranted while at work. He's just been served, in front of everyone. "Leave it alone. From what you said she didn't take anything more than she would have gotten anyway, Say you do find her and beat the shit out of her. You get a free trip to jail, and any money you have left will go to bail and lawyers. You might even do jail time. She's left you in the dust, man." Tommy, another friend, was actually making sense for a change. "Amazingly enough, Tom is actually right this time. She obviously doesn't want to be with you anymore. Turn her loose and get another. It seems to be pretty easy for you." He'd done a lot of bragging about his abilities. The asshole smirked, thinking of the possibilities the future held. "You're right, I guess. Still pisses me off, though. And I'd still like to know who the bastard is." ... After we moved, I sent him a nice video, not blurring my face. When the sex scenes were over, including me coming in all her orifices, there was a few minutes of me smiling into the camera, explaining in detail why I'd done what I did. "He was my brother, you sonofabitch! A good guy, and he didn't deserve the shit you heaped on him. In my opinion, a lot of the reason he's dead is you. You need to think about your lifestyle. Ben sent me a picture of your face after he was done with you. Wonder who told him you were sniffing after Judy? Oh wait, that was me. My biggest hope is next time you fuck another married woman, the man gets pissed off enough to kill you. If I find out, I'll dig until I find the guy and have a nice talk with him. My best advice to you is move, and start over. The guys are watching you now, the word is out." I heard later he did try another woman, and got two broken ribs and extremely bruised testicles for his trouble. Not my doing, the guy found out on his own. If he hadn't done it in a bar Tony would have been killed. The guy had to pay his hospital bills, serve six months in community service, and attend anger management counseling. A big part of the trial was a detailed description of his past exploits given to the defense lawyer by me. After sentencing, the Judge told Tony he needed to get a new hobby, before the one he had now of bedding married women got him killed. I actually attended the trial, willing to give testimony. After hearing my story, the lawyer declined, but still asked me to come to keep him unbalanced. I could tell by the look in his eyes he wanted to jump me, but for once he was smart enough to listen to his lawyer. ... We moved back to my home town. The first time we went to see my mother, she was in shock. We had a pleasant visit, and after we went home I explained why I did what I did. She cried, realizing she'd been used once again. "What happens now? You gonna throw me out? Got your rocks off and your revenge so now you're done with me?" I deserved her tirade, so I took it in silence until she ran out of things to call me. "You're right. I'm a horrible person. But if you'll admit it, you deserved at least some of it. I had every intention of putting you on the streets when I was done, but I've actually started having feelings for you. Here's the deal. Stay with me, at least until we have our emotions sorted out. If you want to leave or I decide you should go, I promise to give you enough money to find a place and live reasonably well for six months. After that, you're on your own. Deal?" She accepted the deal, and we lived as man and wife for eight months. Chris decided that constant sex was the way to my heart, and she nearly fucked me to death for the first six months. And she was the best I ever had. Some people can paint, others, write, some are mechanical or mathematical geniuses. Her talent was sex. She was inventive, funny, and there wasn't a thing that two people could do she wouldn't try. Non sexually, I found her funny and endearing. I'd asked her what she wanted to do with her life when we first got together, and a month later she showed me some pottery. They were works of art in clay, funny, sad, some mostly for decoration, but many pieces were functional. Most surprising, they were by her. Seems she had apprenticed to her uncle, one of the noted potters of the area. He was a big deal, even had pots in the National Gallery and the Smithsonian. She wanted to start doing it again, so I leased her a small building and bought her everything she needed to set up shop. The sex was so intense when I told her what I'd done I was afraid if I didn't get blood flowing back up to my head I'd suffer permanent brain damage. She worked six days a week for three months, then put an ad in the paper for a Saturday sale. Many remembered her uncle and the turnout was substantial. She gave everyone who came a number, and the first time through they were allowed three pieces. If the response was indicative of what she could expect, she had a very nice business in the works. I couldn't believe what people were willing to pay. Seems sex wasn't her only talent. Two months later I was sitting at the kitchen table when she came in. Sandy had been hinting at something more permanent up until about six weeks ago, when she dropped it. Little red flags went up all over the place. I had a professional check on her. It was a fellow potter, one she had been close to when she first learned the trade. They had been together at least three times, at her shop. I didn't even know the couch in her office was a foldout. One look and she knew. To her credit, she didn't try to plead or bargain. She just sighed and asked if she could have until the weekend to get her things out. I gave her the time she wanted, and a little money to tide her over until her business was on firmer ground. Charley would have wanted that. The sad truth was I'd expected her to do it. I had investigated her past, and found one boyfriend and one fiancee she had cheated on. With Charley, it was just business as usual. If she had stayed with Tony and I hadn't entered the picture, it would have been someone else, eventually. Over the next twenty years, she married and divorced four more times, caused by her cheating in every single relationship. She even warned the last two, and they married her anyway. ... I didn't hang around. I called the headhunter and he had me back in Saudi Arabia six weeks later. I did two more contracts, adding to my nest egg. It was close to three quarters of a million now, thanks to a smart investment councilor. This was just after the economy tanked, and I was looking to buy a nice house, or maybe some investment property. The realtor showed me some pretty nice properties, but all were wrong for a variety of reasons. Then the real estate agent showed me a set of apartments, twelve duplexes in pretty poor shape. Structurally they were sound, but had been neglected for years. Isn't That How You Got Her? I bought them at a bargain basement price, leaving me plenty of money left over to fix them up. I used contractors when I had to, but did a lot of the repairs myself, mostly roofing, painting, and flooring. Plumbing and electrical were out of my league and I left them to the professionals. In three months eight were occupied, a year later they were all refurbished and I averaged ninety per cent occupancy. The economy improved, and I flipped them for four times what I had in them. I already had another set I wanted, if the price was right. It was an inheritance, and the new owner wasn't sure what she wanted to do. I was hoping cash would sway her. They were in another town a hundred miles away, but I was used to moving. In fact, I had worked out a deal with the new owners of the apartments that I got six months of free rent. I had two months left when there was a knock on the door. It was Sandy, my ex. I hadn't seen her in close to four years. She seemed stunned. "What are you doing here?," she demanded right off the bat. She still didn't have warm and fuzzy feeling over the way I'd left her. "I live here. What do you want?" "Well, um, I just moved in four doors down. I had no idea you lived here. No one else was home, and I've managed to lock myself out. My keys and phone are in my pocketbook, so I just knocked on doors until someone answered. Could I use your phone to call the management company?" Against my better judgement I let her in, dialing the number for her since I knew it by heart. She talked, explaining her situation, and they promised they'd send over someone with keys shortly. It had started raining so I let her stay, busying myself by packing. She looked at the pictures on my walls and tables. Ones of Charley, Mom, my Stepdad and Dad, the friends I'd made in Saudi Arabia, old high school and college friends I still stayed close to. There was even one or two of Chris. She was in between husbands at the time when I came back, and we hooked back up for a couple of months. When I made it clear I would never marry her, she drifted off. Her business thrived, and she was smart enough to exclude it from every marriage. "None of me?" Sandy sounded kind of hurt, and I couldn't figure out why. "Not a one," I replied, "I threw them away when I left for Saudi the first time. Wasn't memories I wanted to keep." Damn if I didn't see a small tear. Why the hell should it matter? "I never said it before, Mitchell, but I'm sorry. I was horrible to you. I'd like to think I'm a better person now. Looking back, I can't understand why I was so arrogant, so self centered. Sorry if you don't want to hear this, but I promised myself if I ever got a chance, I'd tell you.I know we'll never be together again, but life has taught me karma can be a bitch, and I don't want you to hate me forever." I'd stopped hating her a long time ago, it just wasn't worth the emotional energy. I'd never love her again, to be honest I just didn't think of her at all anymore. I told her that. It seemed to cheer her up. Just then the man from the management firm showed up. Though I hadn't sought her out when I got home, old friends sometimes mentioned her. She'd married again, and it lasted four years. She never lived again in anything as nice as we had, never had the comfortable lifestyle we enjoyed. That seemed punishment enough. Still surprised me when she hugged me. I only saw her once more before she died, auto accident, she was forty two when she passed. I read the obituary, but never attended the funeral. I did send a small bouquet without a card, in memory of the good years. I went to the town, settled into a hotel, and waited for the realtor to call. She called the next day, saying the owner wanted to meet me. I was looking out the window at the agents' office when she drove up in a nice Audi. Her long red hair was unrestrained and fluttered in the wind, and I'd never seen a business suit look so sexy. She had on huge sunglasses so I didn't get a look at her face, but she seemed familiar. When she stepped through the door she stopped short, staring at me. She took her glasses off and I knew. It was Gloria. The last time I'd seen her was almost six years ago, at the bar. We broke into grins and hugged each other, taking the next hour to catch up, asking the agent to excuse us for about an hour. "What happened to you? After our talk, you disappeared. I had wanted another date." Her brilliant white teeth flashed. "I took the advice of the first man I'd been with in two years that didn't have sex with me. I transferred here, with a promotion. Got myself a shrink, made good friends, exercised, generally got my head together. Didn't sleep with a man for over two years, and then only after we were married. I told him I was worth the wait and he agreed. We had three good years together." He'd been a dentist, and a reservist. He got called up, but even then he was safe. He got killed while doing volunteer work for the Afghanistan government, fixing the teeth of children. The clinic was hit by five RPGs, leveling the building. They found him under the rubble, two very much alive children under him. She seemed terribly sad for a few seconds, then grinned. "I heard what you did to Tony. It bothered me for awhile, I couldn't reconcile the man I knew with someone that cruel. But I figured it out eventually. Don't know if I'd have taken that route, but I've never been in that situation. Now, promise me you'll let me cook you dinner tonight, and we'll call the agent in. I did and we did. She wasn't sure she wanted to sell, and I wasn't sure I wanted to invest that much money. We agreed to put it on hold, and I went back to the hotel to get ready for my date. She had a really nice house in a really nice neighborhood. I'd learned a lot about real estate and put it in the four to six hundred thousand range, depending on acreage and how nice the inside was. Gloria met me at the door, wearing jeans and a t shirt, grinning at me and my suit. "I should have told you casual. Lose the tie and the jacket. I'd offer you a drink, but I haven't touched alcohol since the night I walked out of that bar. Will a glass of tea do?" I'd pretty much given up alcohol because of the time I'd spent overseas, so it didn't bother me a bit. She insisted I help her finish dinner. When she had the casserole in the oven, she took me on a tour. Eleven acres with a horse barn, matching her neighbors. Olympic size pool, hot tub, pool/guest house, and a full gym. I adjusted my estimate up by a third. She laughed. "I know, way too much for a single person, but the fact is I loved this house. Jimmy bought it for me as a wedding present." She teared up a little and I hugged her. She had really loved him. She told me over dinner she almost never used the home gym, preferring to go the the Y. She said it helped keep her grounded. I told her everything I'd been up to since we'd parted. "Why didn't you remarry?" I shrugged. "Never found anyone I wanted that much. I had my eye on this hot redhead, but she disappeared on me years ago. Guess I've been carrying a torch for her ever since." She laughed, taking the joke as it was meant to be. Then she got serious. "I always wondered what it would have been like to have been with you. Well, here we are, both single. I wouldn't mind being wooed by someone I've always been fond of. Just know, your chance of separating me from my panties are slim to none, unless we make some serious commitments to each other." Well, there it was. We spent the rest of the night laughing, comfortable with each other. I helped her wash the dishes, she made me watch a chick flick with her on her giant television, sitting beside me and holding my hand. It was enough. We went into partnership on the apartments. For fifty per cent interest I remodeled them and spent every nonworking moment with her. We'd had some pretty intense makeout sessions, but she stuck to her guns and that was as far as it went. This was our norm for the last six months. Here lately she'd been hinting about a deeper partnership, and talking about ticking clocks. I've never seen a woman who loved children more. So here I sit, in this little coffee bar, idly spinning the diamond ring in my hand. Tonight I was going to propose a formal merger, an equal partnership in all things excepting what she had before. She'd built that with her husband, and he deserved that much respect. At some point in the near future, I hoped there would be a couple of additions. I was pretty sure she would agree to that. I'd ask you to wish me luck, but I suspect I won't need it. ***** Well, there it is. it's nice to be back. To be honest, between work and my health, I haven't had an opportunity to write much. It took me a long time to learn to type with only the first two fingers of my left hand. The other two have been numb since last January and will never improve. Aside from that, I stopped because I was getting stale, and repetitive. As many others have said before there are only a few variations in basic story lines here. I've got a few coming up that may or may not disprove that theory. We'll see. One last thing. I'd like to thank all the people that gave me enough votes to win third place in the romance section for a story I did last November. I appreciate it. As always, comments of all types are welcomed, and votes are appreciated. Thanks, Q