52 comments/ 107063 views/ 30 favorites The Road to Hell By: Huedogg2 It amazes me that so many men would take back some bitch after she dumped them to trade up and it didn't work out. In so many stories, writers have characters who will stay in bad marriages for years for their kids sake while their own lives suck. Just so you know: it's just a fucking story. * There is a saying that, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." I believe it's true. I have always tried to do what is right. I have always lived by the Golden Rule: treat people how you want to be treated. Those are my words to live by, so I have tried my best to live that way. So why is living a good life so fucking hard? I have never messed anyone over; I never say a mean word to anyone. If they're wrong, I present the facts to them in a pleasant way. When I'm wrong, I admit I'm wrong. In other words, when I'm presented with a problem I take the high road. I was just living my life, oblivious to any warning signs, when it happened; it was a life changing event. I had just came home from a two day conference in Texas when I was blindsided by my wife. Casey (the aforementioned 'wife') and our kids were sitting around the kitchen table. They were laughing and joking around. When I asked, "What's so funny?" the mood changed. Casey didn't ask, she told me: "Billy, why don't you take a seat." I sat down and she waved a set of papers around in my face. "Billy, take these and read them. I'm not asking for anything but the house. There are also adoption paper in there. I want Jeff to adopt the kids. I know you'll want the best for them, so just sign it and we'll move on," Casey informed me, cool as a cucumber. My wife of twelve years had just presented me with the paperwork for a divorce, and adoption forms for my three kids! My son Devin looked at me with this little smirk on his face. Devin was ten years old. Joy, my daughter, didn't even bother to look at me. She was nine and was too busy listening to her Ipod to feel anything about losing her father. Patrick, my seven-year-old, was the only one who had anything to say. "Daddy, Jeff has a big house and we like him," Patrick explained, as if that would somehow make everything 'all better.' I just sat there looking at Casey and the kids as if they were fucking crazy. Maybe it's PMS or early menopause, I thought. Maybe this bitch is bipolar. Maybe she's high or drunk? Nah — I don't smell any alcohol on her breath. So where is this divorce shit coming from? Casey finally dropped the papers on the counter, and handed me a check for half of the money in our bank accounts. "Kids, take your dad's bags to his truck," demanded Casey. Un-fucking-believable! They had packed my bags before I got home and then laid in wait before they moved in for the kill. "Casey, do you think I'm going someplace?" I asked with a slightly menacing tone. "You're moving out Bill, haven't you been listening?" replied Casey. "Casey, this is my family's house. My parents told me I could live here long before we got married. I don't recall your name being on anything tied to this house. I don't know what has happened to make you want a divorce, but you're never going to take my parent's house. You can leave, but I'm staying in this house!" I shouted. Casey rolled her eye's and realizing that she couldn't win that one, changed her orders and yelled at the kids to pack their bags. They would have to change their plans and go to Jeff's house. "Casey, who in the fuck is Jeff?" I finally had the chance to ask. "Billy, you're a fucking moron; Jeff is the man who has been fucking the shit out of me while your dumb ass is at work," said Casey. Casey wasn't guilty or remorseful; she showed nothing but disrespect and contempt for me. I looked at my kids for their support. My daughter just told her brothers to hurry up. "Dad," said my daughter, "Jeff can give us a better life. Besides Mom loves him and so do we." My sons nodded their heads in agreement. I stood up and walked to the door and opened it. They all headed towards Casey's car. "Casey, don't fucking touch that car. I pay for it and it's in my name. Fuck you and your brats; call your asshole and tell him to pick all you sorry fuckers up." Casey and the kids looked back at me and all of them — the kids as well as Casey — flipped me the bird. I was beyond pissed; I had worked my ass off for this family and they dump me for some asshole with money? I did what any normal man would do, I got stinking drunk. I ended up passed out face down on the laundry room floor. For the first time in my life, I hated somebody. I hated this 'Jeff' guy with a passion. But more than him, I hated my family. I realized that it wasn't all him; my so-called family had chosen to betray me. Once I had sobered up the next morning, I cleaned myself up and went online and found a lawyer. I made a appointment for the next day at noon. They love him so much, I figured, I'll give them what they asked for. My attorney looked over the agreement and told me to sign it before Casey changed her mind. I signed it and my lawyer sent it back. Casey didn't even ask for child support. In the blink of an eye, with the stroke of a pen, I no longer had a wife or kids. My family threw me away like some day-old bread. So much for staying together until the kids leave or dreams of growing old together. Six months later the divorce became final. Everything changes with time and so did I. I threw myself into my work. I went back to college and got my Masters degree, then a PhD. I was now Dr. William Capps, Ph.D, CPA. I know most people find accounting to be boring but then again, so was my life. Somehow accounting was just my style. I decided to open up my own office. It was a boutique operation that provided personalized attention to high-net-worth clients. My client base started to grow by word-of-mouth. By the end of my second year in practice, I was building a very nice nest egg. I also met a nice woman named Pattie. Pattie was everything I looked for in a woman. She was a hard worker, liked the same things I did, and was a home body. Pattie was a little taller than Casey, but she had curves in all the right places. By the end of the fourth year, my firm had grown to the point where we needed more space. Rather than continuing to rent space from someone else, I bought a five story office building. Pattie and I liked our new building so much, we got married on the fourth floor! It was a small yet festive event. I must have enjoyed myself a little too much because a few months later Pattie turned up pregnant. I would have loved a little more 'alone' time with my wife, but you have to roll with the punches. My life had really been looking up over the last six or so years. Needless to say, it was a surprise — no, a shock — when I was served with child support papers. Casey was asking for $3,000.00 a month and $432,000 in back child support. I started laughing; I hadn't seen or heard from them in seven years, and the first thing they want is money. I gave the papers to my attorney. He looked at them, and when he finished laughing, he picked up the phone and called Casey's attorney. Casey, it seems, was broke and alone; she had heard through the grapevine that I had become a very successful (read: financially well off) business owner. To her great disappointment, she had also found out that I had remarried, and that my wife and I had a child and another on the way. Casey's husband Jeff didn't mind screwing Casey, buy he was less enthusiastic about 'the family life', and one day he simply disappeared. A week later Casey was served with divorce papers. Jeff refused to pay child support. He found a way to get the adoptions declared void. He convinced a judge that he was coerced into signing them by Casey. Jeff told the judge that Casey gave him an ultimatum: sign the adoption forms or lose everything; so he signed them. With their divorce final and all of the money gone, it seems that I was Casey's next option. Casey's approach was to get my parent's involved. Casey had stayed in touch with my parents ever since she left me. My parents wanted to be part of Casey's kids lives. They never told me anything about their staying in contact. Casey played the part of the broken wife who had made a stupid mistake. My parents ate it up, hook, line and sinker. They sided with her on all accounts. My dad was the first one to come see me. He talked to me about forgiveness and doing the right thing. How if it we're him, he would try and find away to put the family back together. Somewhere in all of his ranting I pointed out that I had remarried and had my own family. I tried to remind him how Casey and the kids had left me. My father told me to man up and fix my marriage to Casey. "Pattie will be fine, she can start over. You'll just have to take care of the kids and pay your child support." I looked at my dad like he was crazy. For the first time in my life I lost respect for him. I asked him to leave. My mom was next; she came in with both guns blazing. If I didn't take Casey back, then I could move out of the house and they would give it to Casey. I couldn't believe that these were my parents. My firm was doing great, so I went out and bought my own house. It was a week after my parent's rant that I received an eviction notice giving me thirty days to move out. I didn't mind because the sale on my new house was closing the next day. Amazingly, when you pay cash, people will bend over backwards to get things done. My parent came to the house the next week only to find it empty. Casey and her kids moved in the next day. It's been two years since then, and I haven't spoken to my parents, Casey or her kids during that time. Pattie and I have four kids and our firm is doing great. This year I won the businessman of the year for our area. There was a really nice picture of me and my family in the paper. I accepted the award with pride and gave most of the credit to Pattie. "Without my wife Pattie," I told the audience, "there would be no award for me; my wife is my rock!" While I was giving my speech, in walked my parents with Casey. Casey walked right up to the stage and called me a deadbeat dad. She told everyone that I ran out on my kids and her. Casey claimed that it was Pattie who ruined our marriage! I think my attorney must have prepared for this. Somehow he had an inkling that Casey was going to use this occasion to strike at me while getting her phony story some publicity. He aimed a remote at a projector located at the side of the hall. Private investigators can be really resourceful at getting the dirt on scumbags. And the technology they use! It's amazing. What started showing on the blank wall was a film of Casey and her attorney talking in the parking lot outside his office about getting the adoption papers that I'd signed revoked. She was telling her lawyer that if he got the court to void them, that the fucking she had given him that afternoon wouldn't even compare to what he would get when they were thrown out. They also discussed how to arrange for Pattie to be drugged and raped. How they would send me the video to show me that Pattie was cheating on me, and then Casey would come in and put my heart back together. She also told him how she manipulated my parents to be her puppets or they wouldn't get to see the grandkids. When the short video finshed, Casey's attorney tried to quietly leave out a side door. He was stopped by the Chief of Police. It seems that a few judges in the audience took a little interest in the tape. I looked at my parents, then I walked over to my wife and kids, helped them with their coats and left. Outside I kissed Pattie and we headed for the car. Just as I finish putting the kids in the car, my parents called my name. I got in my car without looking back and drove away. I didn't see them again until I was called to court to testify against Casey and her lawyer. I gave my testimony and headed out of the court room. My father was waiting outside. "Billy, I can't begin to tell how sorry your mother and I are, but please son, give us a chance to try and make this up. You have three kids who miss you and are hurting. We have four grandkids we have never met. Son, you have to find in your heart to forgive us and put this family back together!" I just looked and turned away; then I stopped and told him I would think about it. Casey was given three months jail time and four years probation. Her attorney was disbarred for conspirasy to commit fraud against the court and me. The Department of Child Welfare informed me that the kids would be sent to foster care if my parents or I didn't take them. I told my parents to take them. My dad told me I would have to forgive them all some day. My dad asked if wanting to be part of the grandkids lives was so bad. "We're old son, we were going to miss most of their lives. You just gave up and moved on. What about us Billy? Are you so heartless that you can't see she made a mistake?" asked my father. "No," I explained, "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be in their lives. But Casey didn't make a mistake. Casey was a cold-hearted bitch who got what she deserved; as for the kids, they chose him. "You used to tell me that there are some things in life that can't be forgiven, remember that? You also told the me that the road to hell was paved with good intentions; then you turned your back on me. "The thing is, Casey lied, cheated and turned the kids against me. And after all that, you still sided with her against me. Now you want me to acted if nothing has changed. You're old enough to know you made the wrong choice and now you have to live with the consequences." That was ten years ago. Casey never learned her lesson. She got married again and she tried two-timing her husband the way she had done to me. That didn't turn out so well. He caught Casey with her lover and killed them both. Her husband tied them to the bed they were in, poured gas on them, lit a match and walked out. Casey had to be identified through dental records. My kids with Casey are grown and living as they were raised. Devin and Patrick are in prison. As for Joy — well, before anything bad happened, she came to our house and begged to be part of our family. Pattie insisted that Joy had been misled by her mother, and we should take her in and help her to lead a moral and productive life. My parent did get to meet my kids before they died. They left everything to my judgement, but asked me to make a fair allocation of their assets to all seven of their grandchildren in my will. As for Pattie and me, we'll be empty nesters soon and I'll love every minute of having my wife back all for myself. For some of you Billy is an asshole for not fighting to keep his family or because he just walked away. Some things aren't worth fighting over. The Road to Hell Thanks to everyone who read my first story, and especially those who offered constructive criticism. This one just came to me. As before, some things in this story are unrealistic, so don't bother reading if you can't suspend disbelief. I warn those of you who like the "burn the bitch" mentality to stop reading now. Likewise, those who get off on unfaithful wives sleeping around, probably won't like this one either. One reader said my last story worked fine as a "Sunday School Lesson", but had no place on an erotic story site. That guy probably shouldn't read this one either. So, to the seven people on the planet I haven't ruled out yet, enjoy! Thanks to Mikothebaby for editing and suggestions. The Road to Hell by TheEndBegins Every parent's worst nightmare is that something horrible will happen to their child. This nightmare became reality for my wife and I when we discovered our 14-year old daughter had been diagnosed with leukemia. Cancer's a bitch, even to fully grown adults, but to deal with it at such a young age is especially horrific. The doctors told us that they could fight it with drugs, chemo and radiation therapy, but it would mean she was staying full-time in the hospital until she was well, and it would be terribly expensive. Also, there was no guarantee it would be effective. I always wondered why doctors mention the cost of treatment to parents of sick children. Are there really parents out there who would say "Gee, little Billy could die without the operation, but I kind of had my eye on that beach condo. Guess we'd better go tell him goodbye"? Any parent worth a damn would move heaven and earth to save their child. Which is really what this story is all about. My wife Sarah and I had been together since high school. She was head cheerleader, I was a semi-decent baseball player. Not the big-man-on-campus, but not a loser either. But for some reason, she only had eyes for me. Nowadays, she's the phrase "MILF" personified. Blonde, curvy, stacked, she turns heads and pops tents anywhere she goes. She's extremely friendly, smart, and the most caring woman I know. I've always considered myself the most fortunate man on earth that she chose to marry me. Early in our marriage, we were blessed with Emily, the light of our life, and we spoiled her the best we could. She was every bit the sweetheart her mother was. Unfortunately, Sarah had complications following the delivery, and we could not have more kids. Sarah was depressed for a while, but was grateful that we at least had Emily. After all that, you could imagine how devastated we were to learn Emily had cancer. Naturally, we pulled out all the stops to make sure Em had the best medical care possible. But medical care is expensive, at least it is here. More than once, I joked to Sarah that after Em comes home, we're moving to Canada so we never have this problem again. But we pinched pennies and cut corners any which way we could. We stopped eating out entirely, cut off cable service, and I worked overtime every bit I could. I work at a padding factory. We make those little mats you see in high school gymnasiums that say "Home of the Tigers" or other such bullshit, among other things. I'm sure you find it shocking that there are still manufacturing jobs in the US. Take a minute to get over your surprise, and read on. One day, a couple of months into this nightmare, Sarah told me she'd been asked by her boss to help out hosting potential clients her marketing firm was trying to sign. This meant some night and weekend hours, which further meant overtime pay and possibly bonuses if these clients were signed. Naturally, this would be extremely helpful. So she went off to schmooze with the stuffed suits and I continued pumping out school spirit in cheap plastic form. This went on for a while, until one evening, my boss asked the people on our shift to stay late. Apparently, a local college needed a rush order, and the boss offered not only overtime pay, but to buy dinner at a local steakhouse for us as well. Of course I took him up on it. I called Sarah to let her know I would be home late, and she let me know she would also be working that evening. I hung up, went back to work, and around 10:00 that evening, we went to the restaurant to celebrate the end of a long-ass day. After getting our drinks ordered, I felt nature call, so I went to the john. I sat down in the stall, and I heard a couple of people walk in, who sounded like they'd had a bit too much to drink. "Man, that Shelly was a total wildcat in the sack. I can't believe how into it she was." "I know what you mean. Sarah was fantastic. I've never had a better blowjob in my life. I'm ready to sign that damn contract already. " "I know what you mean. They're definitely getting our business. But let's see what they offer tomorrow. I'd like to tap Sarah myself. I've always had a thing for blonde MILFs. Then, we can give Parker the good news." "I like the way you think, Steve." With that, they left. I sat there, with my pants around my ankles and my heart even lower. Sarah had a co-worker named Shelly, a divorcee who was caught cheating on her husband with his best friend. And his other best friend. At the same time. Furthermore, her boss was named Alan Parker. No way was this a coincidence. Sarah was acting as the office whore to win contracts. I lost my appetite, thanked my boss and headed home in a daze. My daughter was dying, my wife was cheating on me, and I just lost my appetite when there was a free steak dinner for me. What a lousy day this turned out to be. I got home, showered, and changed for bed. I tried, but couldn't sleep. Sarah arrived home a little past midnight, showered, and got into bed. She leaned over to kiss me goodnight, and I couldn't help myself. "I hoped you used mouthwash. I know what you've been using that for tonight." Even in the darkened room, I could see her face pale. Then her eyes fell. "I'm so sorry, honey" she said. "I'm only doing it for the bonus money. Parker offers $5,000 a weekend if we win the contract. You know how far that would go for Emily's hospital bills? I know it's awful and I hate doing it, but we need that money." I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to get away from her. So I got up, grabbed my pillow, and went to sleep on the couch in the living room, with Sarah crying for me to come back. As I lay my head down and tried to fall asleep, several thoughts kept running through my mind. Why had she chosen this way to make money? Was this the first time? Was there any future for us as a family? And last, but certainly not least, was she really doing this for the money, or was that just an excuse for her to justify her slutty desires? Needless to say, sleep was not great that night. I woke early and started fixing breakfast. Sarah came down, looking even worse than I did. She grabbed a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table opposite me. She looked up at me with hollow eyes and in a raspy voice asked if we could talk. "What do we need to talk about? You've been cheating on me, whoring out your body for your boss. I don't see how talking about it is going to make things better." She didn't back down. "I know I've done something horrible, but I promise, it's only for Emily's sake. You and she mean the world to me, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for the two of you." "Except keep your legs closed," I bitterly responded. Sarah flinched at that, but then continued on. "We need the money to pay her hospital bills. If I knew another way to get that kind of money without robbing a bank, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I hate doing this, and now hate it even more because it's coming between us, but please believe I love you with every fiber of my being, and when it's over I swear on my parents' grave I will do every single thing in my power to make it up to you, but for now it has to be this way." "I can't accept that, and I won't accept an adulterous wife. Do you already know what you want in the settlement? You'd better start thinking about it." That statement brought out the deer-in-headlights look, and she jumped up from the table. "Settlement? Divorce? No, please, honey, we can't divorce." "Give me one good reason not to." "Fine," she responded, "Here's two. One, I love you completely. Two, a divorce will not only cause Emily pain, it will eat up thousands of dollars that could be better spent on her chemotherapy." Damn. She may be a cheating slut, but she does have a good point. Lawyers, court costs, trying to sell the house in this market and finding a new place to live, divorce costs a pretty penny. And now, even though my pride wanted to get away from the woman that had cuckolded me, my macho side conceded that practicality was the way to go here. I'd just have to live with the horns on my head until my daughter was healthy enough to come home, or until the cancer finally won. So began several months of a cold war of sorts between us. I tried to avoid her at all costs at home, only making conversation when absolutely necessary. She, on the other hand, went out of her way to welcome me home, fixed my meals, did the laundry, everything she could to show she cared about me, but gave me my space. She never failed to say "I love you" when she saw me. She even moved out of our bedroom and began sleeping on the couch, saying she hurt our marriage, and she's the one who deserves to leave our bed. I didn't argue with her on that. The one exception to the frosty relationship at home was when we visited Em in the hospital. We always put on a brave, happy face when we went, and acted like we were still a happy couple. Emily was weak from the treatment, and we didn't see a need to give her more to be upset about. We'd deal with the divorce when she came home. Meanwhile, I decided to get a head start on that front. I couldn't spend my money, but research was free. I asked divorced people at work about lawyers they recommended, and what to do to avoid getting taken to the cleaners. My boss, divorced himself, said the only way to be really sure was to get evidence of her cheating. He loaned me several items he used in his divorce, including phone taps, a hidden recorder, a tracking bug to be put on her car, and a couple of hidden cameras that could be hidden around the house. The next time Sarah had to "host" my boss and I installed all this stuff, and I could start collecting the evidence I needed. A couple of weeks after I turned my home into J. Edgar Hoover's dream house, we got some great news! Emily was in remission, and would soon be able to come home, cancer-free! Never mind the divorce, I was just ecstatic that my daughter would live! I was so happy I even forgot about the cheating, and my wife and I hugged and danced around the house in celebration. When we calmed down, I remembered why we had been so distant lately, and my mood came down a bit. Sarah asked if we could start working on putting "us" back together, now that Emily would live. I told her I didn't think we could. I couldn't live with what she was doing, that I couldn't take the place of her myriad of mover and shaker lovers, that it would be better for us to separate, as we both wanted different things out of life now. "That's a bunch of bullshit!" She vehemently responded. "I want the same thing I always did, for the two of us to grow old, together, and see our daughter live a long and happy life. You're right that you can't take the place of the men I've slept with. You're a much better man, on every conceivable level, that all of them are combined. You're kind, considerate, hard-working, and selfless. And you're a much better lover than any of those empty suits. I haven't had an orgasm since the last time you and I did it. I have to fantasize about you to get wet enough for them to fuck me without it hurting. And I don't give two shits about the money. Every penny of what I got from them went to St. Andrew's hospital, and as soon as our daughter is sleeping upstairs in her own bedroom again I will never go back to work there, nor will I even look at another man. Please, honey, we've been given a second chance with our daughter, give us a second chance too. I promise, you will never regret it if you do." I figured she'd try this again, and I sighed. The news of Emily's recovery, and the months Sarah and I had coexisted had mellowed out my initial anger, but I still couldn't see us putting it back together. I told her that, as well. She slumped her shoulders, turned, and walked away, tears streaming down her face. It hurt. Even throughout all she did, I had to admit deep down, I still loved her, but I just couldn't get over her cheating. About a month later, we took Emily home, along with a clean bill of health. That night, for propriety's sake, Sarah moved back into the master bedroom with me. Sarah tried once again to talk me into reconciling, saying she had her next, and final bonus check coming, and since the hospital bills were already paid, she wanted to use it for marriage counseling for the two of us. She swore that if I went to counseling with her and still wanted the divorce, she would not contest any settlement I proposed. Still, I refused, and for something different, Sarah didn't start crying. She instead looked angry and determined. I guess she figured on fighting the divorce, trying to take me for whatever she could, just like my friends at work told me their ex-wives had done to them. Turns out, I was wrong on that one. Completely wrong. I came home from work the next day to see Sarah already there, with a sad, depressed look on her face. She looked up at me with teary eyes, and handed me a grocery bag full of DVDs, and an envelope. I asked what they were, and she stunned me yet again with her actions. "The envelope is the money from my last bonus. The disks are video recordings of the parties where I hosted. You can clearly see me having intercourse with other men, as well as the men talking about how they will gladly sign with our company for that type of 'entertainment.' In that bag, you have enough money to pay for the divorce, as well as enough evidence to win any settlement you want against me, even enough evidence to put me in jail for prostitution, not to mention enough to win a civil suit against my former employer. I really hope you'll use the money to find a counselor for us, so we can be a family again, but if a divorce will make you happy, I want you to have it. I love you enough to let you go if you don't want me anymore." She was out and out sobbing at this point, but continued on. "But first you should talk to Emily. I told her what I had done, and why we are splitting up. She's really upset, and she needs her daddy right now." And with that, she turned and fled the room, still crying her heart out. I was gobsmacked (Author's note: I always wanted an opportunity to use that word. Thanks, Sarah!). I thought I wanted to be free of her, and was securing evidence to ensure that freedom, and she just handed it to me. And enough to put her in prison? I've heard of people trying to be magnanimous in divorce settlements, but this was way past that point. I was planning on taking her down, and not only had she willingly put her head on the metaphorical chopping block, she handed me the ax as well. She might have actually meant what she was saying about hating her job, and only doing it for the money. Just then it hit me. The recorder! It was still inside her purse! If she was being honest, it would provide the truth. I went to her purse, removed the recorder, and pocketed it. Before I could listen, I needed to console my daughter. I went up to her room, and heard her crying. Knocking gently, I entered the room and sat on the bed with her, where she was face down, still sobbing. She turned to me, and with the most hopeless look I had ever seen said, "It's all my fault. If I hadn't gotten sick, mom would never have done those things, and you would still be happy together. I'm so sorry, Daddy." And then the crying resumed. "Honey, it's not your fault. You mom made the choice, she knew what she was doing, and she knew the risks. She is responsible for her own actions. You can't be blamed because she did something bad. " What she said next changed my whole perspective of the situation. "Would she have made that same choice if I hadn't been sick?" Talk about a sucker-punch. I had to admit, I doubted that she would. For the first time since I came home from the steakhouse, I thought maybe my wife really did love me and only wanted the means to save Emily's life. But the recorder held the last bit of evidence. I kissed my daughter goodnight, told her I'd talk to her in the morning, and left her to get some sleep. I went down to the basement to listen to the recording. It was illuminating, to say the least. "Hello, Sarah" said Mr. Parker, Sarah's boss/pimp. "How are you today?" "Fantastic, Alan. Emily's home from the hospital, and the doctors say she'll make a full recovery. She'll need full-time assistance for a while, so I'm going to have to resign my position here, immediately." "That's a rather sudden and rash decision, Sarah. You're a valuable asset here. I understand that your daughter takes precedence, but at least stay on as a hostess on weekends. You've been a great help here in securing the new clients. I know you enjoy the money, not to mention the 'fringe' benefits." "You assume too much. Every cent of that money went to the hospital, and the 'fringe' benefits were more like 'cringe' benefits to me. I hated every second of it. Not one single man I fucked in the past year came anywhere close to satisfying me. Including you, I'm sorry to say. " "But-but-but, you said I was great! You said you loved it, and you wished your husband was as good as I am!" "I told you what you wanted to hear, and what you needed to hear to keep me in those parties and keep the bonus checks coming. You were a useful pawn to me, but now I've gotten what I wanted, and you're no longer of any use to me. So, we're done." "That's what you think, you little slut. Did you know that I recorded all those little parties? If you don't keep working for us, I might have to show your family. What do you think about that, you whore?" "I'd say you're a day late and a dollar short, needle dick. I found those cameras before the very first party I hosted. I set up the hotel rooms, you moron! Of course I knew about them. What YOU don't know is that I changed the routing address the recordings went to, to my own personal laptop. You haven't watched any of the videos, otherwise you would have caught it by now. Furthermore, I've got recordings of your phone conversations with those new clients, admitting your role in setting up these parties. You don't have shit on me, moron, but I've got your balls in a vice, and if you give me any shit, I'll happily burn your little empire to the ground. Metaphorically speaking, of course." A few seconds of silence, as both Alan Parker and I were stunned at the revelation. Finally, Parker spoke up again. "What do you want?" "Two things. One, you leave me and my family alone from here on out. Secondly, if I need a new job and they call you for a recommendation, you will give me the most glowing review possible. If you blackball me, I'll bury you. That good enough for you, pencil-prick?" "Fine. Now leave, and don't come back, you cunt." "Gladly." Then the tape stopped. I was stunned. The woman I heard on the tape was cold, calculating, and played the player like a damn fiddle. Quite the contrast from the pleading, remorseful woman I had lived with for the last year. I thought about everything she had done since this happened with that thought in mind. She could have lied about the cheating, hidden it better. As smart as she clearly was, and ruthless as she could apparently be, she had been nothing but open and honest with me, begging and pleading, finally offering me what I thought I wanted most, a divorce completely on my terms, even revenge if I wanted it. It could only mean one thing: She was working an angle with her boss. She was not working one with me. She really wanted me to forgive her, and wanted to continue our marriage. Because she loved me. I turned around and saw her on the stairs, eyes open, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She clearly had heard some, if not all, of the tape. The Road to Hell "OK" I said, "we'll try counseling." She ran over to me, fell to her knees and hugged my legs as hard as she could, crying and saying "Thank you", "I love you", "I'm sorry", and "I'll do anything to make it up to you" over and over again. Epilogue: One year later, our family is stronger than ever. Counseling did a world of good for us, and we're as strong as we ever were. As beautiful as she is, Sarah still gets hit on constantly, but she firmly and completely refuses all comers. Emily is still cancer-free, is back in regular school, and has even started dating. Sarah got another job, this time as a receptionist in a law firm, one run by a militant feminist who specializes in sexual harassment cases. I'm pretty sure that I don't have to worry about her having to sleep with clients there. I'm also sure her boss hates me because I have a penis, but what can you do? The future is bright for all three of us, and that was all we wanted. As a wise man once said, Life goes on. The Road to Hell Just a little flash story that came to me while I was doing some research. Very little sex. ***** I felt fear clutch at my heart when I saw his car in the driveway. What the hell was he doing here? He'd made it pretty plain over the last few months he wanted nothing to do with me. The last time he told me if I didn't stop he would make me. I laughed at him. That might have been a mistake. It was a little more difficult than I thought to find him, in fact, it took the detective three weeks. The look in his face was priceless when I walked in to the bar he'd started to frequent, with two big guys from the agency with me. The last time we'd talked had been pretty heated, the terms 'low life slut' and 'backstabbing cunt' seemed to be his favorites. I'd been pretty embarrassed, as it had been in one of the better places I frequented, and he was pretty loud. I didn't go there anymore. Why couldn't he see that I was just trying to help him? Yes, his wife had cheated. Yes, I felt guilty about it, since I kept her entertained with the details of the affairs I was having, even encouraged her to have her first, telling her what a rush it was. And she enjoyed every minute of it. So much so, she was on her third lover when he caught her. Jesus, it was just sex. She wasn't going to leave him, none of them were permanent, none of them were a threat to him. She'd been doing it for a year and he'd never known. I mean, come on, look at me. I couldn't even remember the number of lovers I'd had since I'd married my third husband. Despite the fun I had with younger guys who had bigger equipment, better stamina, and a good bit more imagination, I always went home to him, always gave him as much as he wanted. I loved making love to my husband. He was kind, gentle, and did anything I asked him to do. The only times I turned him down was when I had just been pounded and was way too loose, but I always gave him a blowjob to make up for it, and I gave very, very good blowjobs. Years of practice, I guess. "Look, Todd, I know you don't like me very much right now, but..." That was all I got out before I was wearing the draft he'd been drinking. My guards started to move but I waved them back. I asked the bartender for a towel, and he eyed me coolly before handing me one. I hoped it was clean, this place was one cut above a dive. "Can we try again? I need to tell you..." "What you need to do is get your cheating ass the fuck away from me! What part of that don't you understand? I want nothing to do with you ever again. It's your fault I lost my wife. Not completely, you didn't spread her legs for her, but you did practically everything else." People were starting to stare. I tried to get him to a table, but he sat right where he was. "I'm sorry! All right? I know I filled her head full of ideas she shouldn't have had. Why do you think I'm trying so hard to get you guys back together? I feel horrible over this." I did, really. They were so much in love, at least when I met them. The playing should never have changed that, at least as long as he didn't know about it. She was devastated, wanting him back, and pretty pissed at me. I promised her I'd fix it. "YOU FEEL HORRIBLE? FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HORRIBLE FEELS LIKE, BUT I PROMISE YOU THIS. KEEP FUCKING WITH ME AND YOU'LL FIND OUT HOW HORRIBLE REALLY FEELS. NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" I started to answer when the bartender cut in. "Ma'am? You need to leave. You need to leave right now! I can't have you coming in here and disturbing my customers. And please, the next time you need a drink, don't stop here." I was amazed. He was throwing me out of this dump. Really? "Now see here..." He punched some numbers into the phone he was holding. "Yeah, this is Joe, over at The Hole. I got a woman in here, belligerent, disturbing my patrons, and she's refusing to leave. No, I don't think she's drunk. You guys know I usually handle things like this myself, but it's a woman and she looks like the type that likes to sue people, so I'd appreciate your help.." It must have been a slow night, because the cops were there in two minutes. The female asked me quietly to leave, and when I balked she took hold of my arm. "Here's your choices. You can walk out of here, and we'll let you leave. You fight me. I'll cuff you, arrest you, and haul your ass off to jail, let you post bond, and it all becomes a matter of public record. You need to decide right now." I really couldn't afford publicity or explain what I was doing here to hubby, so I left. "This isn't over," I hissed at him as they led me outside. "Oh yes it is. I've reached my limit. Push me again, and I'll push back hard." "Do you hear that? Officer, he just threatened me." "I may or may not have heard something. Did you Darrel?" The big cop looked at her. He wasn't grinning. "Maybe, ask her if she wants to file a report." I couldn't do that, so I declined. By then we were outside. "Ma'am, go home. I don't know the circumstances, but he doesn't want anything to do with you. My advice is to leave him alone. Oh, and you've been barred from the property. Come back, and we WILL arrest you. Now you have a good night, somewhere else." Goddammit! What was the use of having money when it did you no good? This was definitely not over. I tried again, even told the guys with me to hold him so I could present my case. One stumbled reaching for him, I think, and Todd kicked the other one in the balls. Needless to say there was no intelligent conversation that night. The only thing he said was I'd finally pushed too far, it was all on me now. He left before I could ask him what he meant. Todd pretty much disappeared after that, quitting his job, moving, and leaving no forwarding address. The detectives hit a stone wall when they talked to his family and friends. Each told a different story. He was out of the country. He was right down the street. He was in Texas, Canada, Maine, Mexico. Most just asked who wanted to know and told them to piss off. And now, here he was, in my driveway. Fear clutched at my heart as I entered the house. "Honey, do we have guests?" I called out, hoping to find a tranquil scene. "We're out here on the patio." I walked out, admiring the view. I'd had him put a lot of money in to it. The patio sloped down to a hot tub and a pool that looked like it was about to fall off the hill, and cascaded into another pool twelve feet below. I had fond memories of that waterfall, at least three of my lovers had fucked me underneath it, on a little ledge I had built in. Good thing hubby travels a lot. It was also a good thing I'd fucked the head of the company handling our security, wiring in a cutout switch that only I knew about. Flipped, it played a loop showing empty rooms and landscape. Couldn't be too careful, now could I? Todd had been the one who had spoken. He was holding some ice to a large bruise on my husband's cheek and eye, which had swelled shut. His shirt was almost torn off, and quite bloody. "Hi there, Marge. Remember me telling you the last time you tired to interfere with my life that there would be repercussions? Well, you didn't listen. Here's the deal. From now on, every time you mess with me, I'm going to kick the ass of someone close to you, and then tell them why I did it. Harold here is a lot tougher than I gave him credit for, all that gym time certainly paid off. Knew how to box, too. Who would have guessed." He let go of the ice pack, patting Harold on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad, Harold. When I was young they didn't have MMA like they do now. They had what they called 'Tough Man' competitions. You put up an entry fee, and the last man standing won. We fought back then for peanuts, usually a grand or two was all you got. Still, I was good enough to pay for my education and have a little left over to start my life. And you're not the only one who likes to keep in shape. So even if I am fifty, I can still mix it up when I have to. I'm sincere when I say I'm sorry you got dragged in to this." "Now, Marge, you have two brothers, right? And I believe your dad is still around. Must be close to seventy by now, I'd guess. So he'll be last. And the more you press, the harder I'll hit. Have we reached an understanding here?" "Goddamn you! You can't come in to my home, assault my husband and threaten my family and think you can get away with it! I'm calling the cops. Now!" My threat didn't seem to scare him. "Why don't you do that very thing? If Harold doesn't mind, I'll get us a couple of beers while you call. Who knows when I'll get to have another. Go on now, call. I won't try to justify what I did, but I will explain why and what caused it when I go to trial, and then it'll be a matter of public record. After all, they say confession is good for the soul. Go on, then, call. And just so you know, as soon as I get out I'll start again, and I'll be a lot less inclined to be gentle." I couldn't call and he damn well knew it. If I did, the whole sordid mess would come out. One of his wife's lovers was an old one of mine, and two of them were married. I learned from my first two divorces, you'll throw anyone under the bus to save yourself. And Harold was starting to give me funny looks. I dropped the phone. "All right, you bastard. Walk out of here right now, and it's over. You'll never see or hear from me again, I swear. NOW LEAVE!" "All right. You don't have to yell. You know none of this would have been necessary if you had just left me alone. Harold, I apologize, and it was good to meet you, under the circumstances. You're a pretty tough old bird when it comes down to it. If you ever need a friend in low places, look me up. send a message through the bartender at The Hole, and I'll get in touch with you as soon as I can. Marge, walk me out." I could see the look in my husbands' eye as I went back into the house. I'd have to be in full spin mode when I came back, Good thing I had a degree in Public Relations, not that I'd had to use those skills in years. We walked out to his truck. I'd be glad to get that heap of junk out of my drive. He reached in and handed me three manila folders, each stuffed full. "You should have left me alone, Marge. Give this to Kristy. Tell her it's fair, and if she fights it I'll name all her lovers and have them testify. This is North Carolina, and we still have alienation of affection laws. I won't get anything, but it'll embarrass the shit out of them, especially the married ones." "These," he said, "are yours. I had to take a draft on my retirement, but it was worth it. There are dates, photos, names, and places. Damn, Marge, you are one arrogant bitch. All this didn't slow you down at all. Nice tits, by the way, even if they are store bought. Here's the deal. You go in, right now, right this very minute, and confess to Harold. You don't have to go into detail because he'd dump your ass for sure, just tell him you cheated and beg him to forgive you. If you don't, and I'll know, believe me, I'll send another copy of this to Harold at his office. This is the price you pay for fucking up a good marriage. In a way, I hope Harold forgives you and you turn into a real wife. He deserves it." I just stood in the driveway forever, watching his tail lights fade, before locking the folders in my car, and going back inside, to confess my sins and hope he'd forgive me. ... He didn't, of course, and the prenuptial he made me sign kicked in. In the end, he was more generous than he had to be, giving me two hundred grand and my brand new sixty thousand dollar car. I moved in with Kristy, for survival more than anything else. I had to put up with the bitch crying every night for six months. Todd was kind to her, more than she said she deserved. She got the house, worth about four fifty, her two year old car, and a lump sum she would never discuss with me. We didn't actually like each other anymore, but it was better(and a hell of a lot cheaper)than living alone. I sold my expensive car and bought a small Ford, to build up my stake. I had no intention of going to work, this was my war chest, to tide me over until I found husband number four. I finally talked Kristy into joining a country club with me, a proven hunting ground. She had little interest in lounging around the pool, and took up golf, becoming quite good at it. I couldn't understand for the life of me, I'd be laying at the pool in as little as I could get away with without being completely slutty, and the guys who chatted me up would completely ignore me when she came off the course in those cut little golf outfits. For some reason she always wore the skirt type shorts, and she had great legs. It made her look a lot younger than her age of forty-five. I hooked up with about every single(and a few of the married)guys close to my age there. They'd wine me, dine me, we'd end up at their place or a hotel where they'd fuck me, but after two or three dates, they'd move on. Close to a year later, my funds were getting low and I was no closer to a new husband than I was then. I'd pretty much gone through all the eligible men at the club. Maybe it was time to move memberships. Then I got a series of shocks. Kristy had finally recovered from losing Todd, and had been dating the club pro. I knew it had gotten serious when she started keeping his two kids while he worked. God, I hated kids. They learned pretty early to avoid me, especially on the weekends. She stopped me on my way out one night and asked for a minute to talk. "Marge, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to move out. You don't have to be in any rush, take a month or so. Brad and I have decided to live together, to see if it can go farther. I love him, and I adore his kids. He loves me too, but before I committed, I told him the whole story about how I'd lost Todd. It shook him so bad we didn't see each other for three weeks. You had to have heard me crying during that time." "It took a lot, but one night over dinner he told me he thought I was worth the risk. I'd die before I hurt another man like I hurt Todd, and he knows your part in my downfall, so you have to go. And Marge, don't expect any phone calls or nights out after you leave, he made it pretty clear that if he was in my life you weren't. I wouldn't worry, Marge. You're like a cat, you'll always land on your feet. A month Marge." Stupid, stupid girl. he probably made sixty a year, tops, and he had two brats. What was she thinking? I started getting desperate, so I widen my parameters. I'd just got done fucking a sixty year old, He was bald, fat, and wasn't worth a damn in bed, but he had redeeming qualities. He was reputed to be worth around ten mil. I let the poor smuck rest a while, didn't want to kill the golden goose, after all, then went down on him. It took me twenty minutes to get his pathetic little wienie up. In between slurps and bouts of deep throat, I made my sales pitch. "You know, Roger(slurp), I'm really attracted to you(gobble), I've always been a sucker(slurp, slurp) for a powerful, handsome man. You know, if I shared this condo with you, this world class mouth(gobble, gobble, gobble)would be available twenty-four seven, as well as the rest of me." I paused, raising up to slide his cock up and down my breasts, then went back down, sucking like mad. He grabbed my hair, which I hated, and started face fucking me. His cock was so small he didn't even gag me, though I faked it. Soon a tiny trickle came out as he moaned, and I made a big production of swallowing, acting like it was almost too much for me. He patted me on the head like a dog and went to sleep instantly. I got up in disgust, brushed my teeth and gargled, and settled in next to him, spooning and making sure his hand was on my tits. After a morning blow job, I asked him if he'd considered my offer. He laughed. "Shit no. You're a fine piece of ass, Marge, for your age, but I got two twenty year old girls in different apartments now, just waiting for me to call. And to be honest, you're a little long in the tooth, and you've had so much work done I'm afraid to let you stand to close to open flames." I was furious, grabbing up my clothes while he laughed. "I'm sure the others at the club don't share such a low opinion of me." He laughed louder. "As a matter of fact, Marge, they do. Did it not occur to you that when you showed up out of the blue that we didn't check you out? You're a three time loser, baby, and nobody wants a loser. We even made a game of it, there's a grease board on the wall of the men's locker room. We've been keeping score, and the only ones you haven't fucked are the ones that turned you down cold or the hired help, and I hear we may have to change that. Your trainer, really? He can't be over twenty-five. Did you ever wonder why no one would do you bareback? We were all scared to. I hate to be the one to tell you, but he wives have started viewing you as a threat now that you've gone through all the bachelors. If I were you, I'd leave before you got thrown out, so you can join somewhere else." I was beyond shocked and humiliated. I was destroyed. Then I pulled myself together. I was still hot, damn it! I could still get a man! True, it was time to set the sights a little lower, maybe a nice guy in middle management, with a decent house. Yes, that would be just the thing. I resigned, from the club, scraping just enough money to join one of the lower tiered ones, after I was turned down by my first two choices. It was kind of out in the sticks, but that just upped my chances. Two weeks later I went in to clean out my locker. The parking lot was so crowded I barely found a place to park, there must be a big event today. Then I saw a woman, early forties, kinda plain but dressed nicely, get out of a minivan with two early teen kids. They were carrying a wedding gown while she hovered. A wedding then. I stopped, remembering all three of mine, bug expensive affairs. I'd loved every one. She'd been inside about twenty minutes when I heard the music start. I couldn't help it, I stood at the door to watch, as did a few others from the club. There was whispered conversation while we waited for the service to begin. "Yeah, he's a member, has been for years, but I've never seen him." "He's a nice old guy. I heard his exwife was a cheating bitch, she got caught, and he threw her out." "I heard he's like mega rich, and the bride didn't have a dime. She even has a couple of kids, a boy twelve and a girl thirteen. They think he hung the moon, call him Dad and everything. Hear he's never had kids, and dotes on these. He even redid his pool for them, taking a waterfall down and putting a slide in. Boy, they're going to have it made." The music started, drowning us out. The bride actually looked good with her dress and hair, her makeup perfect. We couldn't see the groom because they're backs had been turned. My heart jumped into my throat. Harold! And standing beside him was that bastard Todd. I didn't even remember doing it. The next thing I knew the security guys had me down as I screamed profanities about how bad I was going to fuck everybody in the wedding party up. The bride was standing over me, a shocked look on her face. Harold rushed to her, cuddled her, and looked down. His eyes widened, and suddenly he started laughing, roaring. He called Todd over and whispered in the bride's ear while he approached, Soon they were laughing, and others, infected by their obvious glee, joined in. The laughter was the last thing I heard as they threw me in the squad car. I was arrested for trespassing, assault, attempted assault, disorderly conduct, they wanted to charge me for alcohol, I'd had a few martinis for old times sake at the bar, but I only blew a .06. I was processed and bail was set at twenty five grand. Shit, I didn't have that kind of money. I just barely had enough to pay the ten per cent to a bondsman. I called Kristy with my one call they allowed me. The Road to Hell She didn't come until the next day. I started bitching about everything, but she shut me down. "Be quiet! You're lucky I'm here at all. You have no idea how heart wrenching it was to come off the course and see my ex and yours standing there." "It was pretty awkward, let me tell you. I finally found out why they were there, and what had happened. Todd was actually kind to me, and I felt embarrassed when my fiancee came up. He just smiled a sad smile and congratulated us. Then he introduced me to a really petite redhead. She and her four year old daughter had been living with him for six months. It broke my heart when a little mineature version of her came running up, calling him daddy and giggling when he lifted her up. " "We all had a drink at the bar, and buried the past. We wished each other well, and we both meant it." "Yes, yes, that's all very heartwarming. I glad you had your Hallmark moment. You can tell me all the details, after you get me out of here." She flinched like I'd slapped her, then smiled. "Bad news, I'm afraid. After your little stunt yesterday Brad gave me a choice. You or him, and he expected a decision right then. I rented a storage building and we moved all your stuff into it last night. It was easy, you didn't have very much anyway. I left the key with the duty officer. It'll be in your personal possessions when you get them back. I'm sorry about the way things turned out for you Marge. My only advice to you is to please, try to learn from your mistakes. Goodbye, Marge." I was about to scream at her when I saw the matron looking at me, and I clammed up. Shit, shit, shit, what do I do now? ***** Well, there you go. A story of stupidity, arrogance, and deceit, repentance, second chances, and forgiveness. Kinda crowded for a page and a half. Thanks for reading. Comments welcomed, votes appreciated. Q