56 comments/ 78683 views/ 18 favorites Shit Happens By: MattblackUK Sometimes, shit happens. Did Dave Calister take his wife for granted? Hell, no! He most certainly didn't! Which, in a way, was one of the reasons why he could not come to terms with the idea that she had stepped out on him. Had taken a lover and had acted like a lovestruck teenage girl. Dave and Alison had been married for 20 years. They'd met at their then workplace, they'd dated for a couple of years and had then married in a wonderful ceremony at the large church in the centre of town. Their parents had gotten on well together and had decided to split the cost of the wedding between both families. There then followed 20 years of wedded bliss. There were one or two bumps on the road, but nothing major or too serious. And they were always able to talk their way through things. Dave was a director at a large and well-to-do architectural firm and Alison worked as a senior accountant at a major multi-branched accountancy firm. They had a daughter, Katie, who was 18 and who had just graduated from High School with exceptionally good grades. Earlier that week Ali had spoken to Dave about how her sister Kendra was going to be decorating her home. "Since she got divorced from Philip, she's got nobody to help her with decorating, so I was wondering if..." "If I could help out at the weekend?" interjected Dave, grinning. "Oh, god, no, Dave!" Ali had spoken with a laugh. "Not at all! You work hard enough, honey! I was thinking of going over to stay with Kendra and helping her to the decorating myself. I have some extra time off, what with the overtime we did for the tax returns. "Then, when I get back on Saturday morning, we could spend the entire weekend fooling around!" "Great idea!" said Dave, enthusiastically. "But what about Katie?" "No problem! We'll just give her some money and tell her to take off and have a good time with her friends!" They had both laughed. After Alison left on Tuesday morning Dave found her mobile phone in the charger in the bedroom. He shook his head and smiled to himself. "God, Ali! You are so ditzy, sometimes! If it wasn't screwed on, I swear you could lose your head!" The lack of mobile phone was not necessarily a problem as Kendra had a phone at her house and she also had a mobile. Alison called him using Kendra's phone to let him know she had arrived safely. "Hi, honey!" She trilled. "Just phoning to let you know I got here, safely! Kendra sends her love!" He heard Kendra in the background. "Hi, Ali, hi, Kendra!" he replied. "By the way, Hon, you left your mobile phone, here! On the dresser!" Alison laughed. But her laugh sounded, what? A little forced? "Damn! Well, that's good news! It answers my question about where I left it! We are going to make a start on Kendra's kitchen now! Got the walls to prep! I'll try to phone each evening at about the same time. But if I don't manage it, please don't fret. We'll just be covered in paint or wallpaper paste!" They finished the call with "I love yous" and so the first day wound down to a conclusion. Dave often worked from home and now, with her classes over, he was chatting with his daughter about the options facing her after school, over their breakfast of toast and honey. "Daddy," said Katie, tentatively. Dave looked at her, quizzically, before he spoke. "What is it, honey?" "Oh, it's nothing bad! You know my boyfriend Newton?" Dave nodded. "Well, his uncle is an entrepreneur. One of his business interests is the big, fancy nightclub over in Bakerville, the Blue Mood Room. Well, Stanley, Newt's uncle, promised Newt the free use of the nightclub's VIP area for a special celebratory party tonight for our study group, but only if we got really good grades. " "Aren't you all below the legal age for drinking?" asked Dave, sceptically. "Oh, that's not a problem, Daddy! Stanley is a real sweetie! He has made it very clear that the VIP area will, for the purposes of our party, be entirely alcohol free! He has arranged for food and snacks and soda pops and alcohol free beer and wine to be available. There's even going to be some alcohol free Champagne for us, too! And we'll have our own VIP area security and serving staff, so everything will be guaranteed 100% safe! Oh... go on Daddy? Please say yes?" Dave nodded. "I know Stan through the Chamber of Commerce. I have to say that doing business with him is a refreshing experience, as he is a man of his word. So, yes, of course you can go!" Katie squealed with delight. "Thank you, Daddy" she called out. "I'll probably be late back and as there'll be food at the club, so don't worry about dinner for me. We'll be taken by limo to the club." Dave grinned, but there was a certain pang in his heart. His little girl was growing up! He thought about phoning Alison, and telling her of their daughter's plans but he thought better of it. If going to help her sister decorate her house was more important than the week Katie graduated from high School, well, that was up to Alison! Katie left at about 4pm, the group of friends were going to meet at the home of Newton Chance and they'd go on to the club from there in a limo that Stanley Chance had laid on. Before 10pm, Katie was back. Her make-up had been ruined by tears and the expression on Newton's face was a mixture of sadness and sympathy. "Jesus, Newt!" gasped out Dave. "What the hell happened to her? Was she... hurt?" Before Newt could answer Katie looked at her father and burst out crying. Through her tears she was able to sob out: "It's not me that's hurting Daddy. Though, to be truthful, I am hurting. It's you! You are the one who'll be hurting. I just found out this evening that mom is stepping out on you! She's seeing another man!" "You must be mistaken, Katie! Alison would never cheat on me! She loves me!" Katie shook her head. "Sorry, Daddy, but it's true. The VIP area is a sort of weird thing. It's like a control module in the centre of the club. It's fully surrounded by glass, but it's mirrored. People inside it can see out, but people outside it can't see in. And they have video screens set up which show the dancers on the four different dancefloors around the VIP area. "And I saw that there was some people I recognised at a couple of big tables. They were people I'd gotten to know at cookouts and parties at mom's firm. Then I saw mom and that young guy who works as her assistant, Dean Salzar, they were dancing, daddy. Only it wasn't just friendly dancing. Anyone dancing like that at school would have been escorted off the premises, damn quick! They were dry humping!" "It's true, sir!" said Newton, nodding."I am really sorry, but there's no room for doubt or error. We know what we saw. And I err... I took the liberty of asking Uncle Stan to secure copies of the security tapes so you'd have them as evidence, should you require them. I also took some photos and some videos on my Android phone." "Oh, God!" Said Dave. "What the Hell has happened?" "Daddy," said Katie, tears pouring down her cheeks, "It gets even worse. They left the dancefloor and we followed them outside. When we caught up with them, he was doing mom over the hood of his car! He was doing her outside, like some damn cheap street walker! Newt got some video of that on his Android phone." Dave looked sick. "Oh, honey, I believe you. I am just so sorry that you had to witness this. I am going to call her, now!" He used the speed dial for Kendra's phone. It went to voicemail. "Kendra. This is Dave. I know that the story about you and Alison decorating your house was a load of horse shit. I know where she was, I know who she was with and I know what she was doing with him. I have video evidence! Tell her to get her ass back here, now!" Newton comforted Katie. He said: "Look, Katie, I think it is important that you and your dad spend some time together to figure this out. But if you need me, just call. Even if it is the middle of the night. I'll keep my phone with me on my pillow." Before he left he did an Android to Android data share and gave the evidence to Dave. Dave watched the video. He was surprised at the quality. He watched in full and gory detail as his wife was taken on the hood of a sports car, by her young lover. There was no doubt who owned the red car, as the registration plate read DeanS. An hour later Kendra and a furious Alison, arrived. Kendra seemed slightly hesitant as if she'd rather not have been there. Alison decided that the best form of defence was offence and she immediately started shouting at Dave. "How dare you have me followed! What the Hell were you thinking? Have you got some dirty little private dick on me, trailing my every move? Did you get off on that, huh, you perverted little bastard? Did you get nice and hard when you saw me fucking Dean? I bet you did! Did you wank over the images of my lover giving me hotter sex than you have ever given me in our entire marriage? Oh, in case you are wondering, he is hung like a horse and can fuck me three times in an hour. Which is more than you ever did, including when you were Dean's age!" Dave looked at Alison. He felt stunned by her outburst. He looked at her and shook his head. "What the fuck has got into you?" "Dean!" She interjected, cruelly. "He's got into me!" Dave shouted: "Alison! For god's sake! Katie is here! What the fuck are you doing?" Kendra looked stricken, she glanced round the large room and saw that Katie was sat, huddled in a deep armchair, partially hidden from view. She wanted to go to her and comfort her but her sister's outburst had paralysed her. Alison said: "Well, Katie, now you know your dear daddy is having me followed round by a slimy piece of shit!" Before Dave could stop her, Katie leapt out of the chair and rushed towards her mother, her face white with fury. She got into her mother's face and shouted: "You stupid, stupid, dirty woman! Daddy didn't have a detective following you! He had no idea you were an adulterous whore! As for who told daddy, who gave daddy the evidence of you cheating on him? It was me! I was, what did you call me? 'a slimy piece of shit' I think it was!" Alison screamed back: "You are full of shit, Katie! There was no way you were at the Blue Mood Room!" "I was there at a private party in the VIP area! I saw you on the dancefloor dry humping Dean, your assistant! Then when you two love birds left the dancefloor, me and my friends followed you. We followed you to the car parking area, and we saw you getting... getting fucked on the hood of his car! Mother, my friends were with me! Can you imagine how humiliating it is to find out in front of all your friends that your mother is a whore?" There was a loud crack as Alison's hand connected with Katie's face. The blow was so severe that it sent her crashing to the floor, where she lay, stunned. "That's enough!" Shouted Dave, loud enough to shake ornaments in the room. "You will never, ever hit my daughter again! Do you understand that?" "But she had no right to call me a whore!" Dave dashed over and helped Katie to her feet. He touched her cheek which was already starting to bruise. "Are you OK, Katie?" Katie took his hand and said, calmly and brittlely: "I will be just as soon as that thing is out of the house!" "But honey," whined Alison, "I never meant to hit you!" "Bulshit!" sneered Katie. "You meant to hit me, same as how you meant to fuck Dean!" The argument raged on for twenty minutes until, in the end, Dave clutched his head and said: Enough! Enough of your shit, Alison! You are giving me a headache! Kendra, please take Alison home with you. After all, I am sure you have a great deal of decorating to get finished!" Kendra's face reddened, but she did not respond to the barbed remark. She steered Alison to the door. Nothing was said as they walked out, shutting the door behind them. The whole situation felt weird to Dave. He had never had a fight like that with Alison before, in all of their 20 years of married life. He realised that Katie was talking to him. "Sorry, honey, what did you say?" "I said 'how's your head'?" "Not too good, baby girl. In fact, I think I'll take a couple of aspirins and go to bed. I can't deal with this shit, now. I am so sorry you got caught up in this." They said their goodnights and retired to their rooms. Katie was lying on her bed, dozing, fitfully. She could not comprehend how her mother, her apparently decent, faithful, loving mother could, and this was how it seemed to Katie's mind, suddenly turn into a violent, adulterous bitch. And with someone only several years older than Katie! She shuddered at that thought. If her father divorced her, technically speaking that would mean that Dean would be her stepfather! And that was just so wrong! She heard a strange noise coming from her father's room. What was happening? She jumped out of bed and hurried to her. She snapped the light on in his room and saw that her father was struggling. The left side of his face seemed to be broken, somehow. He struggled to speak and a strange gurgling noise was all that came out of his twisted mouth. She realised that her father was suffering from a stroke! She ran to the phone on the bedside table and punched in the three figure number and was almost immediately connected. "It's my daddy! Please come quickly! He is having a stroke!" She answered some simple questions and gave the address details to the operator who said: "The paramedics are on their way. Please make sure your door is open to they can quickly access the patient." The paramedics were at the house within eight minutes and as they quickly assessed Dave they asked Kathy for some background. Had he ever had a stroke before, did they run in the family? She said: "I don't think there's a history in our family. But He had a bad shock this evening. We found out that mom is cheating on us and that gave him a headache." "What did he take for the headache?" "He took some aspirins." "Thank god for small mercies! That'll help! We're gonna start administering stroke busting treatment, now. This will be an immense help in ensuring he has the best chance possible of pulling through." At just before 3am a very distressed Katie was waiting at the hospital. She had phoned Newt who, (bless him!) was walking through the doors of the waiting area. "Thank God you came, Newt!" sobbed Katie. She'd sort of been able to hold it all together but when Newt took her in his arms she lost it and began sobbing her heart out. "How's your dad doing?" asked Newt, sympathetically. "They don't know, yet. They have him all wired and tubed up. They aren't sure yet if he will even survive the stroke. It seems it was a pretty bad one, you see?" Newt nodded and squeezed her hand. She said: "I suppose I'd better phone aunty Kendra and ask to speak to my mother." She called Kendra who's response was a bit bleary. "Katie? What the hell are you doing calling now?" "Aunty Kendra, it's my daddy. He's sick. I need to speak with my mom right now. Can you put her on please?" For some reason Katie decided to put the call on speaker phone and she was grateful that she did. "Hello?" shouted Alison. "What the fuck are you doing, phoning in the middle of the night?" "I thought you would like or need to know that daddy is in hospital, in the ICU. He's really sick. He had a massive stroke and he... he might even die." "Good!" Shouted Alison. "Then let the bastard die and let me get on with the rest of my damned life!" The call was suddenly terminated. Katie sat their stunned, too numb to speak. She turned to Newt and eventually found her voice. "I can't believe she actually said that. That she wants my father, her husband, to be dead. If only I could have recorded that call!" Newt held up his Samsung S4 phone and said: "I recorded it, honey. I have your mother on tape, as it were." He shook his head. "I can't believe she could have said that. "Christ, Katie, I know this might not be the ideal opportunity to bring this up, but a couple of months back, your mother made a pass at me. Your dad was at work, you were upstairs getting ready and your mother made a pass at me. When I rejected it, she made out that she was joking around and I accepted that it was a joke, but now? Well, now I am not so certain it was a joke." Katie shook her head. "Oh, God, Newt! What am I going to do? I was going to go away to university, but now my daddy is sick and mom has turned out to be a slut, what can I do? I have to stay at home and look after him, don't I?" "Yes, Katie, you do. You are right. Yeah, I know a prestigious university would be good, but we can always go to the local college and get our degrees there, can't we? After all, it's not a bad place, academically speaking." "What do you mean, 'we' can go to the local college?" "Katie, I love you, and I don't want to think of you struggling alone at home, trying to look after your dad whilst trying to run the house and get an education. I want to be here for you, to help you. For the rest of our lives." He stood up, opened a lidded ring box and went down on one knee in the bright lights of the waiting area and said: "Katie, will you please marry me?" She burst into tears and said yes. The nurse at the reception clapped and cheered. She left her desk and walked up to them. "Honey, you have a good man, there! And young man, you have a good woman. You're both young, maybe some would say too young, but not me. I think you have the staying power to be in a forever marriage. "I heard what your mother said to you. Your daddy is in the best possible hands and he will get better. Tell him to dump his cheating wife. Life's too short for a man to carry a whore round on his back. Sorry for calling your mother a whore, but if it quacks and it waddles..." She walked back to her desk and Katie and Newt returned to canoodling. Presently, they both drifted off to sleep. They were woken at 7am by a tired looking doctor. "Hi, good morning to you both! I am Dr Spengler and I am the lead surgeon of the team who has worked on your father, Katie. Good news, we expect him to make a full recovery. Your father had a haemorrhagic stroke. There may be problems with walking for a while, but that's something he can learn to do again, with help. "I'll be honest, it was touch and go for a while, but we managed to stop the bleeding and fix the problem. We'll keep him in the hospital for a couple of days and then have him transferred to a rehab facility." Katie asked the doctor if the news of his wife's infidelity could have caused the stroke? The surgeon thought for a few seconds and then nodded. "In general, it's a myth that stress can cause strokes. However, if the stress results in a dangerously high spike in blood pressure, that could cause a haemorrhagic stroke when a blood vessel bursts, which is what happened to your father." They thanked the doctor and as he walked back into the ICU, they were surprised to see Kendra approaching them. She rushed to Katie and to Katie's shock, she hugged her, tightly. "Oh, Katie! I am so sorry! So very sorry! When Alison said what she said about wishing that Dave would die, I could not believe that my sister, my own flesh and blood, could say something so evil!" Katie patted Kendra on the arm as they disengaged. "Is she with you, Kendra?" Kendra shook her head. "No. She isn't. After I grabbed my phone back off her we had a really evil row and I threw her out. Dave is a good man and an excellent husband. If my Phil had been half the man your father is, we'd still be married. "Your mother fed me a lot of bull about your father. She had me convinced that he was having affairs and that this lover of hers was just a revenge affair. But now I realise she was just using me to cover for her cheating on you guys!" Shit Happens Michelle was desperate to please. Not just her new boyfriend either. After ten years of a disastrous marriage where her husband cheated repeatedly, never showed interest in anything but her money and belittled her constantly on everything from her weight to the clothes she wore to the dinner she cooked, Michelle was out to prove to her lover, herself and the world that she still had IT. Whatever it was. Mojo. Sex appeal. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. At thirty-nine, she was not a bad looking woman. Average. Average straight mousy blonde hair that hung just past her shoulders. Average size fourteen...and yes, fourteen was the average size; no matter what lies the media and fashion industry perpetrated. Average thirty-six B/C cups. There was nothing particularly remarkable about Michelle. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe if she were prettier, thinner, smarter, richer. She stopped herself there. Nothing good ever came from going down that road. Months of Dialectal Behavioral Therapy had taught her to focus upon stopping the bad voices and changing the way she thought. It had gotten her this far. How far was this far anyway? This was her third date with Michael. The first had been coffee and then dinner in a nice restaurant in Santa Monica. What had supposed to be a quick meet and greet after work had turned into a six hour date that ended with a barefoot walk along the beach at midnight. She had almost been late for work the next day she was so tired. The next date had been a Saturday hike through the canyons. The man was in great shape even if he had to stop a couple of times when she got winded. Tonight he was making her dinner at his house in Long Beach. His house. The third date. The writing was on the wall as it were. The big one. But was she ready to have sex with someone new? She had not been with anyone except her husband in over twelve years. Even then it was not like she had extensive experience. She could count on one hand the number of lovers that she had had. In these days and ages that was unheard of, especially in Los Angeles. Was she ready for this step? She stared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her makeup was light but well-done. She liked the highlights that her hairdresser had added. They along with the new cut gave her hair a slight bounce and shine. She was no Farrah Fawcett but it was an improvement. Her red wrap around dress made the most of her curves. She had bought it from one of those catalogues for 'big' girls. Clothes that were designed to accentuate the positive assets of 'plus' size bodies, not just larger sizes of things meant for skinny ones. Overall she liked what she saw in the mirror. But was it enough? She debated the question as she walked up the sidewalk to his bungalow home only a couple of blocks from the Pacific Ocean. The area was upscale and his home showed a fastidiousness that was almost pathological. She chuckled as she thought about the book Mister Neat that she read to her kindergarten class sometimes. She could almost see this man on his hands and knees measuring and clipping each blade of grass individually. She tugged at the deep V neckline as she rang the bell. Was she ready for this? Was she really going to have sex with a man she had known only a couple of weeks? She was still pondering it when he opened the door. He was wearing khaki shorts and button up shirt that reminded her of Charlie Sheen in Two and a Half Men. She had never liked that show. His character was a bit too narcissistic for her taste, perhaps reminded her too much of her ex with his casual attitude towards women and cheating. She frowned. Was she repeating a pattern here? "Come in," he smiled but it came across almost like a snake-oil salesman or a financial advisor. Oh wait, he was a financial advisor. But what was he trying to sell her tonight? Dinner was nice, but Michelle had to wonder if he really made the exotic Thai food that he served. Or had he merely placed it on his finest china straight from a paper carton. Did it matter even? The conversation was stilted too. He talked on and on about himself. His interest. His career. His taste in music, comedy, movies. Even his backhanded compliment on her new dress was more about his preference in women's attire. Just when she had had enough and was about to make an excuse about being up early the next morning, he made his move. He reached across and took her glass of wine, placing it next to his on coasters on the table. He then took her hand and drew her into his arms for another kiss. It was their third, one for each date that they had had. This one was no better, no more exciting than the others had been. Once more Michelle thought about excusing herself. But it was Friday night, there was no school tomorrow. So that excuse was lame. Then he took her hand and pushed it down to the front of his shorts. For the first time since they had met, he truly had Michelle's interest. She would not have thought herself a size queen. In fact, her ex had been on the small size of normal. And none of her other lovers had come anywhere close to THIS. Curiosity got the better of her, killed the kitty as it were. She just had to know if it was real. She began to fumble with the zipper. His hand covered hers, "Not here." He kept her hand in his as he helped her stand and led her down the hallway with its walls covered in lithographs of seascapes, all numbered of course. She wanted to laugh when she saw that his king size had the duvet neatly pulled back to reveal pristine white sheets that looked like they had even been ironed. Who ironed sheets these days? She would bet that they were fresh too. This man probably changed them every day. Three little letters rang like bells in her head. O. C. D. He led her to the bed, "You may fold and put your clothes there," he pronounced pointing to a chair next to the bed as he began to unbutton his shirt. Michelle watched for a couple of moments as he divested himself of his shoes, lining them neatly under a matching chair closer to him. He hung the shirt from the back of the chair, lest folding it gave it cresses. Then it was the shorts. If Michelle did not want to see that thing for herself, she would have run laughing from this house of horrors. But he kept his tighty-whiteys firmly in place as he turned back to her. "Oh, did you want me to undress you?" he asked comically. She shook her as she tried to come to a final decision. Oh, what the hell? You only live once and despite the underwear she could see that that thing was very much real and bigger than she had thought even. There was a quarter size spot of wetness where the bulbous head rested just below his navel and it was growing by the minute. She untied the dress. She was tempted to just toss it on the floor but feared that might spoil whatever fun there was to be had. Instead she haphazardly folded it and placed it as instructed. She had chosen matching bra and panties in red as well. Of course, pantyhose would never do. So instead she wore stockings and a red garter belt. "Very tasteful," he nodded approvingly as he pushed his underwear aside and began to stroke the only thing that kept her in this place. If cocks could be works of art, this one was. It was not just the size, but the perfect proportion between head, shaft and balls. Michelle might not have had many lovers but her ex had done her the favor of introducing her to porn. This one belonged in the industry. She looked up at the odd expression on the man's face as he stroked his cock. She would swear he was about to come...and he had not even touched her. "On the bed," he commanded. Michelle knew that she had submissive tendencies so his strangled order actually excited her a bit. She climbed into the bed and reached out for him. He shook his head as he kept stroking his cock. "No, on your knees. In the center of the bed." She frowned a bit. Doggy was not one of her favorite positions. Its impersonal nature always left her cold. Probably because she had always felt like her husband had used her as just another hole. She wondered who he was fucking in his mind when all he saw was her upturned bottom. "Now," he said in a throaty voice. Oh well, maybe the size alone would make the sex better. It was worth it to find out. She climbed into the center of the bed as commanded. She saw him reach for something under the pillow and laughed as he pulled out a condom wrapper. She heard him curse softly as he rolled it on his erect penis. Then he was on her. Inside of her. Without any real foreplay. Only the one kiss in the living room. She had not even touched his cock. And it was inside of her? Well, part of it anyway. It was tight. It had been close to a year since she had had sex. If not for her occasional use of her toys, the thing would not have fit at all. She shifted a bit side to side. Willed her internal muscles to relax a bit. And more of it slipped inside. She sighed. Yeah, bigger might just be better. She closed her eyes and leaned forward on to her elbows. This faceless lover thing could be a two-way street, she thought as she blocked out the rest of the evening and enjoyed the sensations of her disembodied human dildo moving inside of her. Reaching places that no other man ever had. Sending new sensations of fullness and desire skittering along her spine to register in her addled brain. She moaned as she approached her orgasm. Then suddenly her toy was gone. Vanished. Disappeared. She was left hanging and frustrated. It was not a new feeling. Her ex had left her that way more than once. Then she felt that thing pressing against her anus. Her eyes went wide with shock. She wanted to scream. To protest. But she was frozen as she felt the head breach her tight back channel. She was not an anal virgin. It was another thing that she had tried with her ex to salvage her marriage. But this thing was almost twice the size of his. There was no way that it would fit inside of her. But even as she thought that, it slipped a bit further inside of her ass. Pain sliced through her. She screamed into those crisp sheets as she clutched them between her fingers until her knuckles where the same white. She forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly as he continued to assault her backside. He humped frantically at it. His breathing was labored as he moaned and groaned. Then it was over. With a mighty roar he collapsed forward. Michelle lay perfectly still for a long moment. Tears welled in her eyes. She was not certain that this could be considered rape legally. She had gone to this man's home of her own free will. Hell, she had chosen to walk down that hall way. She had climbed into his bed. But she had not intended that. She had not agreed to have anal sex with the largest cock that she had ever had. On the third date! She had been married seven years before she gave into her husband's pleas...as a special anniversary present no less. What the hell with this man thinking? Did he treat all women like this? Anger was bubbling inside of her as she felt him shift, heard his softening cock pop audibly from her battered asshole. The silent reverie in her mind was broken with a shrill scream. "Oh my god! You got shit on my penis." She rolled over and looked at the man as he stared in complete aplomb at his shriveling cock. The condom was covered in her bodily excrement. And he was right. It had not reached all the way to the base when unrolled and a good two inches of skin was stained with deep brown chunks. The man just stared at the mess. His hands hung limply at his side as his face froze in distaste. She could not help herself. She broke out into laughter. "What are you laughing at?" he asked holding his hands out to the side. She noticed a bit of brown on a couple of fingers for the first time. "You'll get IT on my sheets!" he yelled as he raced to the bathroom. Michelle heard water running then. "Damned shrink!" she heard him curse as she looked around for something to clean herself with. "Loosen up. Live out your fantasies, he says." Those words were followed by a string of expletives. "And look, what do I get? Covered in shit. I'll have to burn those sheets." Michelle chuckled with mirth as the man continued from the other room, "A new mattress. I may have to buy a new mattress." Except for the soreness in her bottom that slowed her search for something appropriate to clean herself with, Michelle was enjoying this show. Then a devilish thought came to her. *** Her own counselor stared at her as she finished telling the story. The man had an odd, almost pained expression on his face. "So what did you do? How did you process this trauma?" She laughed at him too. "Trauma? I think it was more traumatic for the asshole than it was for me. Especially when I gave up looking for something 'appropriate' to clean myself with." "What do you mean?" the man stammered as he blushed. "I figured that after what happened there was no need for me to be polite. So I used it to write 'Shit happens' on his wall. Then I cleaned my hands and ass with his shirt on the back of chair and left," she boasted proudly. The man blanched at her words. Or perhaps it was the broad smile on her face. But ever the professional, "How did that make you feel?" "Justified. Free. Alive." She smiled. "Oh and Doc, I won't need to be paying your outrageous fees anymore. I can handle my own shit from now on," she laughed as she threw a check at the man and walked from his office into the bright sunshine of a new day.