46 comments/ 65347 views/ 51 favorites Who Has It Worst? By: imhapless "Serendipity" is the only explanation for how four guys with cheating wives ended up in the same high-end bar in a suburb of Washington, D. C. in the same afternoon at the same time. Maybe some higher power was taking pity on them because they had lived primarily innocent lives and didn't deserve the shitty circumstances that they were mired in. Thirty year old Jack entered "The Gold Coast" at about 2:00 p. m. on a fateful Wednesday. Unable to concentrate on his job as a medical researcher for NIH, despite his normally teetotalling nature he had to do something and perhaps this bar could provide some solace. He planned on confronting Audrey, his wife of seven years and mother to their three year old daughter, that night about her infidelity. He dreaded the result because he could not envision a best-case scenario. Jack was sipping an aptly named, given his mood, Devil's Cut Jim Beam bourbon at the most remote table from the bar when he saw Tom enter about 2:20. Of course at that time he didn't know that was his name, but the forlorn look on Tom's face immediately caused Jack to muse "That guy looks as shitty as I feel," just before he took another sip. Thirty five year old Tom, a low level lawyer for the Federal Government mostly dealing with military procurement contracts, had moved out of his suburban home into a cheap hotel a few days ago after finding out first-hand about his wife Amy's activities. He couldn't stomach the way that he was being treated but couldn't afford to do much else if he wanted to see his darling six and eight year old daughters on a regular basis. Tom noticed that Jack was the only other person in the bar - not surprising considering the prices at The Gold Coast and the time of day. He sat at the second most remote table from the bar and was soon approached by Amber, the lone cocktail waitress working at the time. "What can I get for you sugar?" Amber asked. Seeing Tom's bloodshot eyes and hang dog look she said "Looks like you need something strong." "That obvious, huh?" Tom rhetorically replied. Amber compassionately nodded her head. "Two shots of anejo tequila, please," Tom sighed. Stan was obviously agitated when he walked in about quarter to three. By then Jack was on his third Jim Beam - two more than he had had the past six years - and Tom was on his second round of tequila shots. Twenty eight year old Stan nervously paced the establishment for a while before settling down at a table close to the bar, one that had a good view of the entrance. Stan had to be at least six feet six inches tall and two hundred forty pounds, a big strapping guy who looked like he either worked out with weights every day or had a job requiring intense manual labor. While not in blue collar work clothes he wasn't in a suit with discarded or loose tie like Jack and Tom, and his bulging biceps were clearly protruding from his short sleeve shirt. "A pitcher of PBR," he barked when Amber approached before she could offer a greeting. "Sorry, honey, but the owner of this place is kinda snobbish. We don't have that fine American brew, but we do have Heineken on tap. A pitcher of it will do the same thing as a pitcher of PBR, just cost you more," she smiled. "A pitcher of Dutch horse piss it is, then," Stan growled, rapping the fingers of his left hand on the table while tapping the ground with the boot on his right foot. It was about 3:00 p.m. when Will, a short, portly, well-dressed man in his early fifties, entered. He exposed the $200,000 Zenith Christopher Columbus watch on his wrist by moving back the sleeve of his monogramed silk shirt as he checked the time before sauntering up to the bar. He seemed to be as forlorn as Jack, Tom and Stan were. Rather than waiting for the barkeep to mosey over to him he lightly grabbed the passing Amber by the arm and said "Your rarest Glenfiddich, please," loud enough to be heard by the only other three patrons, none of whom had the slightest idea what he was ordering. "Obviously a man who knows his Scotch," she giggled. "That may cost you two hundred bucks," Amber replied with a smile, and then laughed and said "and don't forget the tip." "I wish my worry was money," Will sadly replied. While serendipity had brought the four cuckolds to the same location, nothing might have come of it had there not been a catalyst. That essential ingredient took the human form in the person of Amber. Amber was more sophisticated and older than your average cocktail waitress, but was as pleasant to look at as those ten years her junior, and she was all the more attractive because of her indomitable outgoing personality. After chatting up each of the four when she brought each round of drinks - as well as numerous times between rounds since the activity was so light this sunny Wednesday afternoon - she gleaned that each of her four customers had a common problem; wife trouble. None of them came right out and said that his wife was cheating, but having been around the block more than once, including having divorced a cheating husband, Amber surmised that that was the root cause. Why else would these four be in her bar on this fine day and time with the hang dog looks that they exhibited? When it was Tom's turn to get yet one more tequila Amber approached him with the drink but didn't put it on his table. "Say Tom; have you ever heard the expression that 'misery loves company?'" "I guess," he mumbled in response. "Well I've never seen two guys as miserable as you and Jack over there," she said pointing over toward Jack's table; "except for maybe Stan and Will," she continued, nodding her head in the direction of the bar. "I'm putting this drink on Jack's table; if you want it you need to go talk to him." Tom was about to protest - the last thing that he wanted was male companionship - but Amber was already halfway to Jack's table before anything came out of his mouth. When she placed Tom's tequila in front of Jack he was surprised, but by that time - having known her for a good ninety minutes - he liked Amber and just shrugged his shoulders when she gave him the explanation for her actions. Tom reluctantly ambled over to Jack's table, they introduced each other, and started up an awkward conversation. At first it was just a little uncomfortable chit-chat, but Jack - being further along in his quest to kill brain cells and less used to drinking than Tom - broke the ice. "Tom, when I first saw you walk in I said to myself, Jack, that dude looks as shitty as you feel. Do you think that we have the same problem?" Ten minutes later it didn't take much doing for Amber to convince Will to join the now freely conversing duo. Tom and Jack warmly greeted Will. They asked him what the hell "Glenfiddich" was, took a good look at his watch, and soon were talking to him as freely as they were to each other. It was a little harder for Amber to get Stan to join the motley trio. His dress and drink didn't mesh with theirs. She offered him a pitcher on the house if he'd go over and at least say hi to them; apparently that appealed to him because he was already sitting between Will and Tom when Amber brought him his complimentary pitcher of beer and a new frosted mug. By the time that it reached 4:45 p. m. and other customers started coming into the bar all four of the new acquaintances were near-drunk, if not sloshed. They had each opened up about the nature of their problems - a cheating wife - to the others and now were at that point that occurs during many male conversations; one-upmanship. They had a friendly argument about whose situation was the worst; and who had the most dastardly solution to his, or the others', problems. By then, for their own reasons, Will and Jack had to leave, and it was better for Stan if he did too. However, before they broke up Will floated an idea. "I think that we should each present our problem to a panel of objective strangers. Whoever is, hic... found to have the worst, hic... situation, the other three will help rectify it." Maybe not the best way to phrase it, but pretty good considering that he was drunk. "What do you mean by 'rectify?'" Jack, a little more sober than Will and Tom, skeptically asked. "I mean solve their problem. Look, the four of us have different abilities. Stan has brawn, Jack has guts and medical knowledge, Tom has legal ability and a typical devious lawyer's mind, and I have money. I'm willing to underwrite the entire experience so that we each get a fair hearing, and even if I don't win I'm willing to bankroll whatever we come up with to rectify the winner's situation." Sensing skepticism Will persevered. "What have we got to lose, dudes? Can things get any more depressing for us than they are now? At least we'll have the satisfaction of knowing that we're doing something." "He's right," Stan barked, smashing his big right paw on the table and almost cleaving it. "I'm in," Tom said snapping to a fully upright posture for the first time in days. "What the fuck DO we have to lose?" Jack chimed it. "What's the plan, Will?" "Tom, give me your card; I'll be calling you by tomorrow to have you do a little contract writing for the four of us. Jack and Stan I need your cell phone numbers too. I'll set up a meeting - shall we say 9:00 Saturday morning - at one of my offices to enter into a formal agreement, and discuss details. By then I'll have started work on getting a panel to evaluate our stories," Will excitedly uttered. "What do we do until then?" Jack asked. "Maintain the status quo the best that you can. You know your wives better than I do. I'm not saying that you have to act happy, but don't do anything drastic either - pretend that you're all Emmy-winning actors," Will replied. They all shook hands and got up to go, each reaching for his wallet. "To show you good faith - and because I'm so excited about this - let me pick up your tabs," Will said as he motioned Amber over, "and tip our darling little catalyst," he continued once she was in earshot. Will settled up and gave Amber a $400 tip, a hundred bucks per man. She also got a genuine hug from each member of the quartet. "It's good to see you boys walk out of here with fire in your eyes; or should I say 'stumble,'" she joked. Tom walked back to his shitty nearby hotel room while Jack and Stan took cabs home and Will was picked up by his limo; no one wanted a DUI to spoil their plans. ********************** The four co-conspirators met at one of Will's suburban offices, a new brick three story building with the name "Bronson Commercial Realty" emblazoned over the classy cut-glass entrance. "Who's 'Bronson?'" Stan naively asked. "Yours truly, William H. Bronson, Jr." Will replied with a smile. "I'm kind of vain, but this is the only one of the dozen businesses that I own that I named after myself," he grinned. After commiserating about how fucking hard the last few days had been, Will, Stan and Jack still interacting with their wives and Tom in his shitty hotel room with only a brief respite to see his girls, they quickly got down to business. Tom had drafted a contract according to Will's instructions and had it on a memory stick so that if necessary they could easily make changes using one of Will's computers. In the contract the four amigos agreed to make their own presentation to an objective panel about their situation. The situation that the panel picked as worst would receive all of their efforts to rectify. They would brainstorm ideas and vowed to implement what they finally decided upon unless it was blatantly illegal. Each agreed to take up to four full days off work, if necessary and the plan called for it, as well as to diligently pursue any tasks that they were assigned. "We're to have no electronic contact in the future except via these burner phones," Will said as he handed the phones out after everyone had read and signed the contract. "I've preprogrammed each of our burner phone numbers into each of these phones, and they are to ONLY be used to call each other. There are $200 worth of pre-paid minutes on each phone which should easily last us." "What about the panel to 'jury' our presentations?" Tom asked. "I have a principal of a polling firm due here any minute to discuss that," Will replied. Seconds later a bell rang. "Speak of the devil! I'll bet that's him now," Will chirped, hopping up from his chair and hustling to the front door. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Dr. Andrew Minton, a very respected pollster," Will said as he returned to the conference room followed by a tall distinguished looking man with a gray beard and wire-rimmed bifocals. "Please call me Andy," Dr. Minton replied. After introductions and hand-shakes Andy sat at the head of the table and asked "So what can my little polling organization do for you gentlemen?" Tom gave a basic explanation of what they were looking for and their situations. As Andy stroked his beard with a contemplative look on his face Jack asked "What type of panel do you recommend, Andy?" "I think that a panel of about twenty adult males - no women - all within the age range of twenty five to fifty should hear the presentations and then discuss them before taking a vote. If no one gets a majority on the first ballot they would eliminate the last place presentation and vote again until a majority is reached. I would suggest mostly married male panelists, but with a few single, and a few divorced, guys," Andy replied. "I think that we'd like an explanation of why they voted like they did, and what the vote was, too," Stan authoritatively said. The others shook their heads in agreement. "How soon can you arrange it, Andy?" Will asked. "Is Wednesday at ten p. m. at my office OK? You will each have twenty five minutes to make your presentation and answer questions. After lunch the panel will meet, discuss, vote, do a write up, and you should have your answer by three o'clock, four at the latest. Everyone was in agreement. Jack, Tom and Stan left while Will discussed financial terms with Andy. ************************ On Wednesday, Andy informed them that the panel included twenty one heterosexual men, fifteen married, four divorced, two single. The youngest was twenty four, the oldest forty seven. Andy had the members of the quartet draw cards from a deck to see what order they would present in. Each presenter would be alone in the room with the twenty one panel members and Andy while the other three watched through a one-way mirror in a viewing room. Each would have at least fifteen minutes of uninterrupted time to tell his story, and then would answer questions for ten-fifteen minutes more. The order turned out to be the same as the order in which they had entered The Gold Coast; Jack, Tom, Stan, and finally Will. "No names," Andy reminded them, "not yours, your wife's, or your kids if you have any. You are simply Presenter #s 1-4. Even though all panelists have signed confidentiality agreements I'd rather keep identifying information to a minimum." They all nodded in agreement. *************** "The last place that I want to be is here, laying my sole bare," Jack began his soliloquy, "but I'm at a loss for what to do and I need to do something. Thank you for listening. I'm Presenter No. 1." Jack then proceeded to tell about how he found out that, Audrey, his wife of seven years, had for a time period not pinned down, but likely since sometime after she recovered from the birth of their only child about three years ago, been regularly trolling for guys. Unless she had recently changed her M. O. she apparently had been going to one of the many local college campuses looking for guys and then hooking up with them for one afternoon stands, or in some instances two or three times. When colleges weren't in session he believed that she sometimes trolled male dominated conferences held in hotels or convention centers. He believed that she always made her fuck buddies wear a condom, but wasn't sure. He had only recently gotten proof and hadn't confronted her and was dreading doing so. "Have you noticed any decrease in the frequency or intensity of sex with her or any decrease in affection?" panelist #4 asked. "No - none at all, which is probably why I didn't ever suspect anything and would still be clueless if I hadn't stumbled upon her activities by accident," Jack replied. "You say that you think it started sometime after the birth of your child," panelist #19 said, "did your wife have some sort of metamorphosis after that?" "Actually, I guess you could say that she did. She has always had a high libido, but after our little girl was born for a few months her libido was depressed, I think primarily because she didn't like her own body. Then she started exercising intensely and taking yoga, and within a few more months was really proud of her body. At that time she started getting more sexually aggressive and until I found out about her cheating we were fucking at least five times a week, sometimes twice a session. The sex wasn't just frequent but fantastic..." Jack said before he started to lose it. He wiped his eyes, regained his composure, and said "Sorry," to the panelists. "How could she be so effective at picking up guys, especially younger ones?" panelist #6 naively asked. "She has a beautiful face, she's five feet nine inches tall, 135 pounds, a D cup chest, long blond hair, and sleek thighs that would make the average heterosexual guy cry," Jack wistfully replied. "Sorry I asked," #6 genuinely blurted out. "How frequently do you suspect she has engaged in dalliances?" panelist #14 quizzed. "Likely once every two weeks," Jack mumbled softy, and then had to repeat it more loudly when several panelists indicated that they hadn't heard him. "What is your present situation?" panelist #1 inquired. "I know that she senses that something is wrong. While I have had sex with her twice since I found out it's not the same. I've told her that I don't feel well, but she knows that's not the problem. I was going to confront her the night that I met Presenters 2-4 but we all decided to wait, and help each other," Jack responded, wiping his eyes once more. "She looks scared and seems to be walking on eggs around me while maintaining a façade of being upbeat." "Thank you Presenter #1," Andy said while looking at his watch. "That's twenty seven minutes. Please send in #2." Jack shuffled out of the panelists' chamber and returned to the observation room where Tom was already standing and ready to exit. They exchanged hugs and then Tom marched into the "jury" room. ***************** "Hi, I'm Presenter #2," Tom nervously began. Although he was an attorney he didn't do trial work and was uncomfortable in front of an audience. However his angst was overcome by his pain, anger, and resentment, so he persevered. Tom related how he had come home early from a business trip - classic situation, almost laughably cliché if it wasn't so tragic - to see a guy leaving his house around lunchtime. He hustled inside and ran up to the master bedroom. He heard his wife Amy chime "Forget something Jeremy, or do you want to make another sperm deposit?" "My name's not Jeremy," Tom told the panelists, unsuccessfully trying to smile at his gallows humor. He explained about how when he saw Amy laying naked on their marital bed with her legs apart and a creampie leaking from her pussy his wife was only slightly flustered. In response to him yelling "What the fuck is this!" she calmly replied "I'm sorry that you had to find out this way, Tom." His wife went on to explain to him that she had enjoyed an affair with a guy named Jeremy for over a year, and that she had every intention of continuing it. She said that she still had affection for Tom, but that he was going to have to accept the situation otherwise she would be withholding sex from him in the future. When he started talking about divorce she viciously informed him that she would take him to the cleaners and make sure that she got sole custody of their daughters - the lights of his life - and that he would end up with a miserable existence. "Once you tell me that you accept this situation I'll take you away for a weekend and fuck your brains out," were her last words before he stormed out of the house. Who Has It Worst? "Does anyone else know about her affair?" panelist #2 asked, almost afraid to delve into this mess any further. "I don't think so. I found out that this Jeremy guy is married too, and a co-worker of hers, so there is a real incentive for her to keep things quiet, and since I found out I've made subtle inquiries of her friends and family members and I don't get any vibes that anyone else knows," Tom solemnly replied. "What's your present situation?" Andy asked. "I left the house that day, called my girls that night, and haven't been back in the ten days since except to get some clothes and other things one day when my wife was at work, and to see my girls for a few hours each of Saturday and Sunday. I took them to a park and the zoo to get away from the house," Tom responded. "Have you had any discussions with your wife since you left?" panelist #21 asked. "She's called me twice. The first time she was pleasant, though unyielding. The second time - which was just yesterday - she told me to get my head out of my ass and get back home because the girls and her parents were asking too many questions, and that if I didn't get my act together and get with the program that she would be filing for divorce based upon abandonment," Tom answered trying his best not to make eye contact with any of the panelists. "Would divorce be so bad?" panelist #8, one of the single guys, guilelessly inquired. "She's the mother, the kids are young and female, and she would be vindictive and make every effort to get sole custody and turn the kids against me and deny me access. It would ruin my life," Tom responded, wiping away tears. "Thanks Presenter No. 2," Andy said softly with compassion in his voice. "Please send in No. 3." Tom exited with his head down, almost running into Stan who was just a few feet from the conference room door. "Sorry," Stan said, putting his strong hands on Tom's shoulders. "I couldn't take listening to you any more so I've been waiting here for the last ten or fifteen minutes." Tom nodded his head and returned to the viewing room while Stan barged into the panelists' room. ************** Stan made quite an impression on the panelists with his dramatic entrance and NFL lineman size. Seeing the shocked looks on their faces Stan started out with an apology. "Sorry about that brusque entrance," he said. "I'm kind of charged up by my situation and I've been fighting with myself to control my temper for several days and I'm starting to crack." "If your story is anything like the other two," Andy quipped, "we understand. Please go ahead Presenter No. 3." While not as articulate as Tom and Jack had been, but just as genuine, Stan related his situation. He had recently found out that his wife Joyce had been having an affair for a long time with a single guy that he was friendly with, if not good friends with. They had not really made any attempt to keep their relationship clandestine and what hurt Stan almost as much as the affair was that many people that they mutually knew, as well as her parents, brother and sister, knew about it but never told Stan. Because Stan was a freelance expert IT guy - that revelation shocked Jack, Tom and Will who were in the observation room, who had assumed that Stan was a tradesman or construction worker - his wife and lover never did it in his house because they knew that his house was wired with cameras and all sorts of sensitive electronic equipment. One of the bigger blows to Stan's ego was the fact that his wife had duped him into giving her cash on several occasions which she then used to rent motel rooms with her paramour. "Have you confronted her yet?" the always inquisitive panelist #1 queried. "No - and I have to tell you why. In the past I have had problems with anger management. I have received counselling for it and for the last few years have been able to successfully control it. However, I am angrier now than I have ever been in my life. I'm terrorized that when I confront my wife she will say something that will set me off and that I will kill her fuck-buddy - and maybe even her. I am a powerful man and if I hit someone even with what I consider to be a minor blow death could ensue, and then I'll spend the rest of my life in jail," Stan related, ending with a big sigh. "Do you have children?" panelist #1 continued. "Thankfully, no." "Has your sex life with your wife degenerated?" was yet another inquiry from panelist #1. Stan exhaled. "My information is that she has been having this affair for about six months. About that time her amorous inclinations did decrease. However, since I found out about this situation - about ten days ago - I have not been in any mood to have sex with her, yet she surprisingly initiated sex with me twice in that time. I treated her like the whore that she is when I fucked her those times - including three times in one of the sessions. That did not seem to adversely affect her enjoyment, although since it was out of character for me since then she has been cautious around me. I think that she can sense that I am trying to exercise self-control around her. I have a tendency to unconsciously clench my fists when seething, and I smashed one kitchen chair to smithereens and didn't provide a real explanation for it when she saw the vestiges of it." "Are you interested in reconciliation?" panelist #8 inquired. "I'm not sure. Probably not, but I might consider it if we have a complete break from everyone in our past. Since I'm the wronged party, though, and make more money than she does, I don't want to be paying alimony to her for cheating on me - especially in view of the public way that she's done it," Stan replied as his face started getting red. "Thank you, Presenter #3," Andy said. "Please send in Presenter #4. Stan summoned up all the self-control that he could muster as he exited the conference room. Talking about his problem to a room full of strangers agitated him more than he anticipated that it would. He was surprised when Will hugged him once he got into the viewing room, not only because of the act itself but because of the calming affect that it had on him. Jack and Tom both patted him on the shoulder too. **************** Will was always well-dressed. He was a clothes horse and could afford the most expensive duds available. Watching his three new friends make their heartfelt presentations, however, had caused him to sweat and for the veins on his neck to enlarge, tightening his collar. Therefore, totally out of character for him, he had not only removed his tie and opened his collar, but he had taken off his suit jacket. Unlike Stan and Tom, Will was used to making presentations to groups of people and having relaxed his attire his presentation was relaxed too. He was able to relate his tale with less passion than the first three presenters had exhibited. "My circumstances are the way that they are because of my family situation. I have several family members in public offices - I can't disclose which ones - and they constantly espouse Conservative Christian values. My wife is taking advantage of that situation," Will started out while pacing back and forth in front of the panelists. Will went on to tell the panelists in excruciating and embarrassing detail how his young wife is having affairs with two different guys and taunting him about it. The day that he went to the bar she had threatened to make him watch a guy, "almost as big as Presenter #3," fuck her "so that you can get some pointers." She has threatened him that she will refuse to attend important business and political events with him if he doesn't go along with her liaisons and watch if she demands it, and if he tries to divorce her and enforce the prenuptial agreement that she signed she'll allege that he made her fuck other guys while he watched because he's a pervert, and will do everything imaginable to embarrass his entire family. Her lovers will testify that Will asked them to do it and that she was reluctant. The panelists were pretty much in stunned silence when Will finished. Finally, prurient panelist #1 asked "Will her doing as she threatens actually hurt your family?" "I'm not willing to take the chance. The public is funny. They could eventually pity my family and that would help them - but it could ruin things for them too," Will hypothesized. "It would certainly ruin my relationship with my family; they didn't want me to marry her to begin with - they thought that she was a gold-digger and tramp, and unfortunately they were right." Andy looked around the room and not seeing anyone else interested in asking questions he said "Thank you Presenter #4. Please return to the viewing room and I'll meet with you shortly." Will left, after which Andy reiterated the instructions to the panelists as to what they were to do. "Meet back here in an hour and five minutes, at 1:00 p.m., and we will begin our discussions. Lunch is available on the other side of the movable divider in this room, or you can go out someplace, whichever you desire. Just be sure to be back here at 1:00." ************** When Andy walked into the viewing room he found four somber guys. "That sure was rough on you guys, wasn't it?" "It was as rough watching my new buddies as it was on me," Jack groaned. "You got that right, bro," Stan chimed in as Will and Tom nodded in agreement. "Are you guys interested in watching the deliberations, do you want to come back once a decision is reached, or do you want me to just call you with the results? What's your pleasure?" Andy asked. "I'm emotionally spent," Tom said. "I'd be ready to put a gun to my head if I had to watch the deliberations." "My feelings exactly," Stan agreed. "I'm not going to watch," Jack announced. "Tell you what," Will said. "If you guys trust me, why don't I stay until the deliberations are over - I don't know if I'm masochistic enough to watch, I'll decide that later - but I'll call each of you and tell you the results. Then when we next meet I'll give you the written comments from the panelists. How does that fly?" "I trust you implicitly, Will," Stan stated, standing up, walking over to Will, and giving him a big hug. "Me too," Jack said, following Stan's lead. "Ditto," Tom declared. After eating a yogurt for lunch, because he had no appetite, Will decided he would watch the deliberations. They were much quicker, but more painful, than he imagined. All of the panelists agreed that all four of the situations were really fucked up and unfair. They thought that Jack had the best opportunity to salvage his situation and that maybe Stan might find a way out too. However they considered Tom and Will's circumstances to be hopeless, Tom's worse because of his kids. Some thought that Will's concerns were overblown and that he could easily jettison the bitch. The panelists agreed that they were ready to vote after only about fifty minutes of discussion. They had a "winner" on the first ballot. Tom got eleven votes, Will six, Stan four, Jack none. They agreed that three of the panelists and Andy would write up the results and the other eighteen panelists went home - all between somber and distressed. The write-up took another half hour, and then Andy delivered it to Will. Will called his three comrades, relayed the news to them, and made arrangements to meet Saturday morning to plan how to extricate Tom from his miserable situation. Will was true to his word too; he put the might of his wealth behind the plan, and the other three were resolved to do anything that they could. Will had a divorce attorney at Branson Commercial Realty's conference room to explain all the nuances of "family" law in their State. The four conspirators peppered the expert with questions for two straight hours with inquiries about custody, alimony, enforcing a pre-nup, violence, protective orders, possession, comparative rights, filming, private investigators; everything having any possible relevance to their situations. When the divorce attorney left Will ordered in lunch and they started their discussions in earnest. Tom told them, after consideration of everything that had occurred, that he had no love or respect for Amy anymore. He considered divorce was inevitable - he just didn't want Amy to get sole custody of the kids. "You've set your sights too low," Jack stated. "I've got the germ of an idea on how you can get sole custody yourself, pay no alimony, and get child support from her." "I'm listening," Tom skeptically replied. After brainstorming for an hour all four were smiling. "We just may be able to pull this off," Stan grinned. "Fuck yeah!" Tom screamed, pumping his fist into the air. Tom called Amy, said that he was coming home the next morning although he would be sleeping in the guest bedroom, and left. Jack, Will, and Stan talked for a while longer then each got to work on their assignments. "We're not fucking around guys - this is war," Jack said as he shook both Will and Stan's hands when Jack and Stan left. *************** Friday, six days after the four amigos had made their plan, and after about twenty hours of work each by Stan and Jack, and thirty by Tom, as well as the expenditure of about $35,000 by Will and as his own time contribution, everything was in place. Amy was busy having a nooner with Jeremy in her marital bed when her six and eight year old daughters burst into the room. "Mommy, Mommy when are we going to...Eeeek!" the eight year old shrieked. "Why is that man hurting you, Mommy?" the six year old screamed. Sweating and chagrined, Jeremy and Amy scrambled to get their clothes on as the eight year old ran out of the room yelping and the six year old was frozen in place on her knees crying hysterically. A partially clothed Amy was trying to comfort the six year old while Jeremy got his ass out of there. As he scrambled to get out of the house Tom and Amy's part-time nanny, the woman who had brought the kids home from school, was waiting. With the frantic eight year old hiding behind her skirt she smacked him on the side of the head with a frying pan, knocking him into a mirror and cutting his head so that blood spurted all over the place. The nanny hit him twice more on his back before he stumbled out of the house, bruised and bleeding. The retired next door neighbor diligently wrote down his license plate number as Jeremy laid rubber leaving the cul-de-sac. The nanny had already called the cops before she smacked Jeremy the first time and the phone was still dangling off the receiver so that the 911 operator was recording all of the nearby sounds in the house. The cops were there within minutes and it took four of them to calm everyone down and try to make sense of the chaos. Tom was sitting calmly in his office when the police sergeant called. Tom expressed the requisite level of concern as he talked with her on the phone. After he hung up he cheerfully gushed to his secretary, "Elaine, I'll be gone the rest of the day on a family emergency. Tell anyone who calls that I'll reach them Monday," as he left his office. Things didn't go well for Amy - or Jeremy. At first Amy lied to the police. When Tom got home and played the video of the entire incident for the police Sargent and emailed it to her office at her request Amy had some "splainin" to do. Jeremy had already been identified by his license plate and was being questioned by police at the local hospital emergency room. A CSI team collected blood samples from the floor and wall near the broken mirror and confiscated the sheets from the bed in the master bedroom. Amy was taken in for questioning and read her rights. Since lying to the police was against state law - including obstruction of justice - and she was also charged with child endangerment - she was held in jail over the weekend since there was no magistrate available to grant bail. After Amy's parents bailed her out on Monday, she was met by a process server at her front door and served with divorce papers and a temporary restraining order requiring that she stay clear of her children, husband, and house until a hearing could be held. A deputy accompanied her into the house to get some clothing, personal items, and her car keys. By the time that Wednesday rolled around, Amy's attitude had undergone a 360 degree change. She called Tom, who was happy to talk to her. "I don't know how you did it, but you got me, Tom. You win. What do you want?" "Why Amy, honey; didn't you read the divorce papers. I want sole custody of the kids, child support, and you out of my life for good. I understand from Jeremy's wife that he'll soon be a free man so the two of you should get together and have a nice shitty life," Tom replied trying to sound as sarcastic as possible just before he hung up. Thursday, Will, Jack and Stan met at Bronson Commercial Realty and conferenced Tom in by phone. Tom's daughters were having a hard time and he was reluctant to leave them even with his parents, although his Mom was staying with him to help out in getting them to school, etc. "Guys, I don't know how to thank you. I mean, you all treated it just like it was your problem and performed beautifully," Tom gushed. "Hey, that was the deal, dude," Jack replied with a big smile. "It was an honor to help. And don't forget that we have one more arrow in our quiver. Amy will shit a brick when the police inform her that the blood that they drew from her at the police station tested positive for HIV." All four laughed. "When are you going to tell her that the HIV test is a fake?" Jack asked Tom. "I'll never tell her it's a fake, but will be sure to somehow see that she's tested again - after I get sole custody of the kids. I don't want to ruin her life like she has tried to ruin mine," Tom chuckled. "Amen," Stan laughed. "Those cameras and emails to the kids' school and the part-time nanny, and that pieced together phone message, all ostensibly from Amy's phone, were priceless, Stan - and here I thought that you were just a big dumb jock," Tom continued to gush. "Glad to ruin your stereotype, fella," Stan chortled. "And, to pay all those bucks, Will; WOW!" Tom said, his voice now starting to crack with emotion. "I'm a little distressed, though," Will replied, "on how easy it was for my associate to bribe someone at the police station to substitute the blood sample Jack got for us for Amy's. Well, even though that sucks we must have done something right to get the bonus of the part-time nanny knocking the shit out of that asshole Jeremy," Will chuckled. "Did you know that grandma was so fierce?" "Hell no," Tom replied. "But she's getting a raise plus I'm gonna make sure that I stay on her good side from now on." After the giddy quartet exchanged some more verbal back-slaps Tom got serious. "Listen, guys. I know that the deal was we would just handle the so-called 'winner's' problem; but that's not fair. I think that we can handle all of them, one at a time; and we have to act now - we can't wait until my divorce is Final. The bad ass attorney that Will got for me assures me that, given the circumstances, I'll get sole custody." "Do you have a plan, Tom?" Will asked. "Hell yeah, I do. It will take some physical pain on your part, Will, but it will end up with your wife in jail, one of her paramours disabled, and the other one willing to testify on your behalf. It does require Stan to do extra duty too - are you up for it big guy?" Tom replied. "I've had to take prescription drugs to calm myself down to keep from killing my wife and her friend," Stan responded with an edge to his voice. "I'd love to go off the drugs for a while and be able to vent my frustrations - that is assuming that you have a plan for me next, Tom." Who Has It Worst? "That I do, Stan my boy; that I do," Tom snickered. "My mind has been working overtime for the last week, and I have plans for Jack too." "OK, then," Stan bellowed. "Let's have it." "At Bronson Commercial Realty, Saturday morning, 8 a. m.," Tom related. "Gotcha," the other three remarked in unison. ****************** Will's wife Julie, at the age of twenty eight, twenty four years younger than he is, didn't realize that her Tuesday liaison with Frank, her #2 lover, in her alleged marital bed, was being filmed; with audio. Stan had seen to it that the cameras from Tom's house, which were no longer needed, were providing proof positive. Julie had apparently long since concluded that Will was a total wimp and that she had him by the gonads and could do anything with impunity. The cameras got a good view of her contorted face as she screamed when Frank jettisoned his cum grenades into her pulsating pussy. The audio also caught all of her post-coital bad-mouthing of Will and bragging about how she was sexually blackmailing him. When Stan viewed it to assess its quality he was disconcerted by the video for several reasons. Obviously Julie's blatant cheating was the most disconcerting feature. However, he was also unsettled by the effect viewing Julie had on him. "She is one plasma hot bitch," Stan mused as he ogled her sleek physique and large boobs, and marveled at her sexual intensity. Stan and Jack, in disguises, paid a visit to Frank on Wednesday. After Stan broke his nose they had a talk with him. "You will testify against that bitch, and you won't see her again," Stan barked. "Here's $10,000 in cash for your 'assistance' and you'll get another $10,000 when the situation is resolved, whether or not you are required to testify," Jack said as he handed over some of Will's dough. "But if you support that bitch or fuck her again, you're a dead man," Stan continued, hitting him in the solar plexus. "I got the message," Frank groaned while on his knees. Thursday, once Julie's #1 lover, big burly Justin, had gone up to her bedroom Will talked into the transmitter that Stan had provided to check with Jack that things were progressing as planned. Jack, hiding in the copious closet on the opposite side of the bed from the entrance to the master bedroom in Will's mansion, quietly indicated "Affirmative." "Now remember, Will," Stan cautioned, "when you hear the beep close your eyes and cover them with your arm." Will nervously nodded. Sensing the little man's apprehension Stan grabbed him by the shoulders and continued "You can do this, Will; it's going to work, and Jack and I have got your back." Will gave Stan a crooked smile. "I know that you do, Stan; I know you do." Will barged into his bedroom just before naked Julie and Justin were about to go at it. "Get the hell out of my house, asshole," Will yelled. "Are you talking to me, little man?" Justin barked. "Don't worry about him, honey," Julie laughed to Justin. "I'm glad he's here - I want him to watch and get some more pointers. After all I do have the duty to fuck my husband, occasionally." "I'll never watch you trample your marriage vows," Will whined. "I married you only for your money, little man, you have to know that by now. And if you don't do as I tell you, as I've instructed you before I'm going to tell everyone who will listen - including your conservative Christian relatives - that you're a pervert and made me fuck other men with you watching. Justin will back me up, won't you honey?" Julie snickered as she gave Justin a kiss. "You bet, babe," Justin responded, returning her kiss. "I want you out of my house, asshole. I own this house, not her, and you're trespassing," Will squealed. "Rough him up a little, honey," Julie said to Justin. "Don't kill him, but let the little man know not to mess with us." "I warn you that I will defend myself," Will barked, less than convincingly. "Oh you will, huh?" Justin said as he started slapping Will. Will tried to fight back but then Justin punched him in the nose. Fortunately Will, though prone, was not unconscious when he heard the "beep" and he immediately closed his eyes and covered them with his arm. Justin thought that he was trying to cover up so as not to get hit in the face again and started laughing while simultaneously threatening Will with great bodily harm when suddenly intense lights came on and blinded both Justin and Julie. When Stan pushed the button on his remote the cameras in the bedroom went off at the same time that the blinding lights went on. With protective eyewear on Stan quickly entered the bedroom, put one of his strong arms around the neck of the disoriented and naked Justin, and with all of his might slammed Justin's body over his knee. The loud "crack," and Justin's piercing scream, indicated that, as planned, Justin's back was broken. Stan looked over at the bed and saw that Jack had performed his duty, having bonked Julie on the head hard enough so that she was completely disoriented but not hard enough to knock her out. Once Stan saw that Jack had blindfolded Julie, Stan hit his remote again and the blinding lights went out. Stan helped the groggy Will to his feet. "You did great, dude. Sorry that I didn't hit the remote right after the slaps but before he punched you, but now it will be even more convincing." Removing his eye protection Jack jumped over by Will and with a concerned tone asked "Are you sure that you can handle the next part. It looks like Justin hit you pretty hard and that your nose is broken." "I want to follow the plan exactly, I don't care about the physical pain," Will groaned. "Did you bring the gun that Julie 'bought' with her personal credit card last week?" "Got it right here," Jack grinned, using his surgical-gloved right hand to pull a .25 caliber pistol from his back pocket. "Let's do this, then," Will said, closing his eyes and lifting his hands above his head. Jack went over to groggy, blind-folded Julie, and put the gun in her right hand while he held it too. Jack suddenly thought of something and said "She is right-handed, isn't she?" "No, left-handed," Will replied temporarily opening his eyes. When Stan had Will in position and Jack had the gun that he and Julie were holding in her left hand properly lined up Jack pulled the trigger. The single shot grazed the fat roll - Will wasn't much for working out - on Will's left side, and hit the wall behind him. "Ow, that hurts like a son-of-a-bitch," Will moaned. Jack took a look at Will's side while Stan held him up. "Looks like it was perfect - it will bleed and there will be blood on the bullet when they recover it from the wall, but there is no significant or permanent damage. It may even give you character when you strut around the pool in your Speedo," Jack chuckled. "Funny man," Will moaned. Jack checked on Justin and he had apparently passed out from pain. Julie was lying on the bed naked, the gun having dropped onto the floor, and though not comatose not really aware either. As Will was holding a washcloth to his side, and Jack started to remove the blinding lights, Will saw Stan staring at Julie's pussy and his pants tented. "Have you been getting any pussy, lately?" Will asked Stan. "No; while I was on my medicine I didn't have the desire to, especially with my whore of a wife," Stan replied. Just then he realized that he had been ogling Julie's pussy and noticed the condition of his crotch. "Oh, sorry, man," Stan moaned to Will, "I...shit, I'm sorry," as he turned to leave. Will grabbed Stan by his arm. "Listen, I don't have any interest in that bitch anymore - I'm divorcing her, and she's not likely to get any cock when serving her jail sentence, so why don't you fuck her. Just don't leave your DNA in her - condoms are in the top drawer of the nightstand." "You wouldn't mind?" flabbergasted Stan asked. "You'd be doing me a favor," Will smiled. "Jack and I can get the lights to the van. Just come downstairs when you're done and I'll call 911." Stan went over to the nightstand and found not only a condom but some lube and a thin vibrator. He dropped his pants, exposing his fist-thick seven and a half inch long cock. He went up behind the prone Julie, lubed up and fingered her asshole with one latex-gloved hand, and fingered her pussy with the other. Julie started moaning. Once Julie's truly exquisite pussy was dripping wet, Stan slowly inserted the thin vibrator into her lubricated asshole. She groaned - it sounded to Stan like a pleasure groan. Still blindfolded Julie seemed to be rallying a little. Stan planned on fucking her unconscious. Once the vibrator was fully inserted Stan lifted her crotch up off the bed and supported her with one arm. Then he buried his girthy cock into her slick pussy with one thrust, resulting in a noticeable flinch from Julie as well as a loud gasp. Julie's pussy felt wonderful as Stan started stroking in and out. Even with the condom on given how tight the fit of his cock in her cunt was, and how excited he was, and how despite her condition she was banging back, it was beyond great. He started getting really excited and pounded the shit out of her. Julie started shaking in orgasm, but Stan didn't stop - he just banged right through it. When he could feel his cock ready to explode Stan turned the vibrator in Julie's ass on high. She started convulsing in a second even more powerful orgasm as Stan filled his condom to almost the point of bursting. He turned off the vibrator just before he himself became senseless due to the power of his climax, and once he turned the vibrator off he noticed that Julie had in fact been rendered comatose. After a few more delicious minutes with his cock languishing in Julie's superb pussy Stan extracted himself, pulled out the vibrator, put the lube back in the drawer, and took his condom off. He put the condom and the vibrator in a plastic bag, then removed Julie's blindfold. Stan stumbled down the stairs with the bag and found Will and Jack at the bottom with big grins on their faces. "I hope that you fucked that slut as hard as it sounded," Will chuckled, despite the pain in his side and nose. "Best ever with a condom," Stan proudly proclaimed. Stan and Jack hustled out the back door of the house to the van parked remotely, and took off while Will called the cops. **************** As had been previously planned, the four amigos met at Bronson Commercial Realty again two days later. Will had a bandage over his broken nose and was favoring his left side, but was giddy with joy. "I guess that it worked out, huh?" Tom grinned. "Your plan was genius," Will laughed. "So tell us what happened after Stan and I left," Jack eagerly demanded. "The CSI team confirmed that the physical evidence matched my story that after I broke Justin's back - I have real street cred now," Will laughed. "That after I broke his back Julie pulled the gun she had purchased a few days before and shot me - the GSR on her dominant hand confirmed it. They believed that she got the bump on her head when despite being shot I charged her and her head hit the headboard of the bed - her blood and hair were just where Jack put them." "Did you show them the video?" Stan anxiously inquired. "Sure as hell did," Will smugly replied. "It supported my story completely, and I was able to convince them that Justin punching me into the wall knocked out the cameras. Justin is now in the hospital's criminal ward in a body cast, handcuffed to his bed. He's been charged with assault and criminal trespass and conspiracy to commit blackmail. Julie is in jail charged with attempted murder and conspiracy to commit blackmail, and has a $500,000 bond which for some reason no one has been anxious to post for her." After a good fifteen minutes of further expressions of unmitigated joy Tom got serious. "OK, guys; back to the real world. Stan, I have a completely scorched earth plan for you. Are you game, or do you want to soft pedal things?" "I want the biggest shit storm in the history of mankind," Stan bellowed, slamming his fist on the conference room tabletop, shaking almost the entire room. "Don't break my table, dude," Will laughed. "Sorry," Stan joked, "but I am through with my bitch wife Debbie and everyone who knows about her affair. In the last few weeks I've gotten many sly smiles and snickers behind my back, and I can't take it anymore. I will kill someone unless I get some really sweet revenge." Tom got a big, evil, shit-eating grin. "I think that what I have in mind might be too intense for you," he sneered. "Try me," Stan retorted. After Tom explained his plan Will and Jack curled up their noses. "Oh, gross," they moaned in unison. "Even I can't successfully do what you want with the emails and texts without getting caught, but I know a guy who lives on the fringes of the law who could - it will cost Will though," Stan said. "Money is not an issue; my expenditures implementing our little plans are the best money that I've ever spent in my life. Also, one of the facilities that I am a silent partner in and needs to be remodeled anyway is a perfect place to host Tom's proposed event," Will gleefully replied but then winced since too much activity hurt his side with the bullet wound. "Dudes; I don't mind smearing cum in pussies with a latex-gloved hand, but there is no way that I want to cause guys to ejaculate by sticking my fingers up their assholes and touching a membrane bordering their prostates," Jack said grimacing. "Out of town prostitutes will take care of that," Will chimed in, "only money is necessary because I'm not sticking my fingers up anyone's asshole either. Can you get enough nitrous oxide, though, Jack?" "No problem," Jack grinned, "but it will have to be mixed with a little desflurane to do what we want. That also is no problem." A week later Stan's wife Debbie, her brother, mother, father, and sister, as well as her fuck buddy Trent, Trent's sister and brother-in-law, and Trent's mother and father, were enjoying drinks in an ornate cozy little private lounge ostensibly to celebrate Trent's upcoming birthday. They didn't notice that the room that they were in had been sealed, or that suddenly Jack, in disguise and serving as the bartender, had left the room. When the nitrous oxide with desflurane had been flowing into the room for about five minutes, the guests started dropping, those who weighed the least first, and those who weighed more a little later. Once, by viewing the TV connected up to the closed circuit camera, Stan was able to determine that all the partygoers were anesthetized, his little army - all wearing gas masks - entered the room. An out of town latex-gloved prostitute worked with each of Stan, Tom and Jack - they allowed Will to take a pass since his nose was still bothering him and since his lounge was going to be destroyed. They stripped each of the guests, caused each guy to ejaculate by sticking a finger up his ass to press against the prostate, and then placed the ejaculate in one or more of the female's pussies and smeared some of the female's pussy excretions on the appropriate guy's dick. Debbie got ejaculate from both her father and brother in her pussy and they got her pussy juice on their dicks; her mother got ejaculate from her brother, and her sister got ejaculate from her father. Trent's mom and sister each got some of his ejaculate, Trent's mom got some of her son-in-law's ejaculate too, and Trent's sister got some from both Trent and her father in her pussy, with commensurate pussy juices spread on the appropriate cocks. Stan, Jack and Tom brought in mattresses which covered much of the floor while the prostitutes neatly piled up the guests' clothes in a corner, and then all six of them proceeded to bash most of the glass in the lounge and bust holes in the wallboard and rip the artwork. They put wallboard dust and glass on the hands and bodies of all of the guests, including bruising some of the guys' knuckles. Stan strategically placed two crumbled printed out emails at parts of the lounge where they would be sure to be found by authorities. The emails announced the third annual "Incest Party." Then Stan and Jack hooked up a powerful suction source to pull the nitrous oxide-desflurane mixture out of the room and the manager of the lounge who worked for Will called the cops to report vandalism and debauchery. After photographing each of the party-goers posed in oral sex positions, Stan, Jack, Tom, and the prostitutes took off leaving the manager to meet with the cops with Will to back him up if necessary. Most of the effects of the anesthetic had worn off by the time that the cops were directed to the lounge, and the guests were trying to find their clothes and cover up. When the first CSI there found one of the crumpled up Incest emails and showed it to the manager he went berserk and demanded that the "perverts" be prosecuted not only for vandalism but for their debauchery. The cum leaking out of pussies was readily visible, so the CSI's took and cataloged swabs of all of the female genitalia and all of the male cocks before they let them dress, and then carted all of the party-goers off to jail. "Somehow" the TV stations and newspapers in the Washington area got ahold of the story and the photographs appeared all over the Internet. The cops didn't believe that none of the party-goers had ever seen the emails and texts on their computers and phones about the "Incest party," all sent to and from Debbie's phone or computer. Nor did they believe that Debbie didn't really rent the lounge or the mattresses with her personal credit card. Even worse, the cops didn't buy their protestations that they didn't have sex with their relatives notwithstanding the DNA tests of the secretions in the pussies and on the cocks. To say that Debbie, Trent, and their relatives were mortified would be the understatement of the decade. The fact that all of them who had jobs lost them also didn't help their moods or financial situations, especially since they were all sued by the lounge for the damage that "they did," which amounted to $25,000. All except Debbie - the stupid bitch - plead guilty to vandalism and debauchery misdemeanors. They were fined $2500 each, required to contribute to paying off the damage to the lounge, and were placed on probation for two years and had to register as sex offenders. Idiot Debbie put the state to the expense of a trial despite the fact that, as the ringleader, she could have gotten the same plea deal as the others only with the addition of ninety days in jail and three years' probation instead of two. The jury didn't believe her, and since she was the one who apparently initiated the emails and texts, rented the lounge, and rented the mattresses, the prosecutor asked the jury to throw the book at her. She was fined $20,000 and sentenced to two years in jail and four years' probation after that, and had to register as a sex offender. Stan never even bothered to see Debbie again, despite a dozen attempts by Debbie to contact him while she was in jail or out on bail before her sentence. Stan's divorce came in immediately after the trial, while she was incarcerated, and she got essentially none from the marital assets except what she was able to hock to help pay her legal fees. Poor Trent. He had even more bad luck. When he was leaving the unemployment office one rainy day a large masked man mugged him and beat the shit out of him. He told the cops that it might be Stan, however Will and five of his employees swore that Stan was working as an IT consultant at Bronson Commercial Realty at the time of the mugging. ************** Shortly after Debbie and the other party-goers were arrested the four amigos met at Bronson Commercial Realty again. Stan was so grateful for the efforts of the people who he now considered his best friends ever that he started crying. Who Has It Worst? "Hey, pull it together big boy," Will joked. "If you fall down sobbing we won't be able to lift you back up to your feet." "That had to be the most disgusting event in history," Jack groaned, "but even more successful than we could have hoped for." The quartet didn't discuss the details of their successful endeavors helping Stan as much as they had the other two - mostly because of the repulsive details. Tom again initiated discussion of the next step. "OK; now we have to help Jack," he demanded. "Now my plan..." Jack interrupted him. "I have to stop you Tom and tell you what the present status is." "OK, shoot," Tom replied. "As you know it's been more than a month since we first met, and I wasn't a good enough actor to suppress my feelings. Audrey started getting real nervous around me especially since I was calling her and asking her where she was whenever I suspected that she might be trolling - or thinking of trolling. When I rejected sex with her for about the fifth time, with tears in her eyes she asked 'What's wrong, Jack?'" "I sarcastically responded, 'I don't know Audrey - you're supposed to be smart - you figure it out;" then I got up and went into the guest room. The next day she told me that she was going to see a shrink to work on her 'problem,' and begged me not to divorce her. When I told her 'You sure do need help you crazy fucking bitch,' she burst out crying." The other three sat spellbound. "I got a call later on that day that she had been admitted to a mental hospital. She's still there, and needs therapy. If her problem turns out to be some sort of mental illness I have to stick with her - I swore 'for better or for worse' when we got married, and our daughter needs her. Our daughter has been a basket case ever since Audrey has been in the hospital the last week," Jack solemnly continued. After a long grave pause Tom stood up, walked over to Jack and gave him a hug. "So what do you want us to do Jack?" Tom asked. "Nothing, right now. Just your moral support until I meet with the doctors next week," Jack replied, tears starting to form in his eyes. "What's your insurance like?" Will asked. "I don't know how much it will cover, but we do miss her income since she is on unpaid leave right now," Jack mumbled. Will buzzed for his administrative assistant and told her to have the director of Bronson Commercial Realty write Jack a check for $50,000. "I can't accept that," Jack complained. "You need to accept it," Stan said putting a big paw over Jack's hand. "If any of us could have legitimately salvaged our marriage we would have. You're the only one who has a chance; I'm not a rich man, but I'd be very happy to kick in $5,000 myself." "Me too," Tom chimed in. "You've got to take it," Will said; "please." *************** In the end, things did work out for the four amigos, although not exactly as how they could have predicted. Jack did stay married to Audrey. Her brain chemistry had been completely messed up by an interaction between changes to her body after her pregnancy and a drug that she had been wrongly prescribed by a doctor that has since lost his license because of his incompetence and his outstanding multi-million dollar malpractice judgments. While her condition was tough to diagnosis, once it was the treatment was fairly straightforward. Within three months she was back to her pre-pregnancy faithful self. They now also have a five year old boy, and they are very happy. Tom got sole custody of his daughters. Amy didn't handle her situation well. She never moved in with her former lover, Jeremy, and she was so pre-occupied with her situation including her HIV diagnosis, which she only found out was erroneous six months later, that she lost her job. She moved fifteen hundred miles away. She has only seen her daughters three times in the last three years, but does call about once a month. Tom tries to be polite when she does but if she ever starts whining about how sorry she is he cuts her off. After his divorce became final, Tom returned to The Gold Coast bar to thank Amber. Fortunately she still worked there. She and Tom really hit it off and now live together. She runs her own Internet business, set up by Stan (before he left town), and no longer works as a cocktail waitress. Neither one of them seems interested in getting married, but they are happy together, especially since Amber is the perfect compassionate surrogate mother and has filled the void left by Amy's absence. Both girls, even as teenagers, are well adjusted. After his divorce Will moved onto another young wife; this one isn't nearly as sexy as Julie. In fact, she's basically ordinary - but since she's devoted to Will he's happy. The bullet wound in his fat roll was the impetus for him to get on a regular exercise routine and improve his diet. He's lost thirty pounds and will now likely live longer and better. There were no adverse effects on his family since all fallout from the Julie situation was handled privately. Stan couldn't stop thinking about how awesome fucking Julie had been, or about how plasma hot she is. He started visiting her in jail. Surprisingly their personalities really clicked. When Stan tried to talk Will into dropping the charges against her and to get the DA not to prosecute Will told Stan that he was crazy. "I can tame that evil bitch," was Stan's reply, "I have more chemistry with her than any other woman I've ever met in my life." Working as an intermediary between Will, Julie and the DA - without ever disclosing his relationship with Will - Stan was able to broker a deal whereby Julie plead guilty to several misdemeanors and was sentenced to time served and placed on probation for ten years with some interesting conditions. The conditions included that she accepted only half of what she was entitled to under her pre-nup with Will in the divorce settlement, and that she agreed that if she ever publically said anything derogatory about Will or his family, or if she got married and cheated on her new husband, her probation would immediately be revoked and she would serve all ten years. Considering what he saved on the deal with Julie's prenup, Stan's financial help for all of the quartet's activities ended up costing him only a few thousand dollars. Stan and Julie married two months after their divorces were final, and with the blessing of her probation officer as long as she reported in by videoconferencing, moved two thousand miles away to start a new life together. To say that they are sexually compatible would be the understatement of the century. They have likely fucked more frequently, and more passionately, in the last seven years than any other couple in their new state. Anytime that they argue it turns into a fuck session - anytime that they have something to celebrate it turns into a fuck session - anytime that they are bored it turns into a fuck session - essentially everything turns into a fuck session. All four guys cherish the serendipity that brought them together in The Gold Coast bar - it changed their lives; for the better!