Mortimer and Myrtle A Love Story
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Time To Pay (Chapter 1) free porn video
Time To Pay
By Anna Na Maus
This is the story of a philandering husband and his wife's revenge.
Chapter one sets the scene and introduces you to the main protagonists.
Michael, the philanderer and Jenny his poor, wronged wife.
Chapter One
I first met Michael when I was just eighteen years old. I was a first-
year student doing my BSc in Pharmacology at Bristol University. Michael
was doing a degree as well over at the University of the West of
England, the other University in Bristol. To some people in the city it
is still called the Old Polytechnic. Michael was doing a BSc in Computer
Science.
I can remember the night we met, even now. I was out with some girl
friends from the course, as all students do when they first arrive in
Bristol we were enjoying the delights of Whiteladies Road. We had
already sampled a couple of cocktail bars by the time we met these boys
in the Jersey Lily so I was feeling kind of happy. There was this one
guy that caught my eye, he wasn't the best looking in the group but he
had these eyes, these beautiful brown eyes that just drew me in. I guess
I had a lot to drink because my memories are only patchy but I remember
dancing at some point, outside some bar or another on the street, the
memory felt very romantic. I also remember a goodnight kiss that felt
absolutely amazing, and a decision not to call because we were at
different universities so it would be difficult. That didn't feel
amazing, even if it made sense at the time.
Of course, when something is meant to be, it just happens; and it did. I
bumped into Michael the following week, and the week after that. In
fact, it seemed that ever where I went Michael was either there or
turned up later and we always hooked up. I believed at the time that our
love was destined to be, I was so smitten and I convinced myself that he
was as well. For my birthday that November he had surprised me with a
trip on the Eurostar and a weekend in Paris. We had dinner on the train,
served in our seats not bought from a buffet car and there were roses
waiting in the hotel room. I knew Michael wasn't rich and that this must
have taken pretty much everything he had but that was Michael all over.
The only things he seemed to care about were his studies and me.
Whenever we were out with his friends, who only ever talked about
computers, Michael would make sure that I was involved as much as
possible. If the conversation got too complicated then he'd just ignore
his friends and talk to me. Either that or we'd sneak out and go up to
his bedroom, which was always my preferred choice. With my friends it
was completely different, no matter what drivel we talked about, he
always listened and somehow managed to join in. My Michael could talk
chick flicks, make-up, he was even there when Sally's boyfriend dumped
her and she cried for a week.
I remember our first summer. Rather than spend the whole twelve weeks
apart I invited Michael to come and spend the week with my family in
Norfolk. We weren't rich but we were fortunate enough to live in a large
house in a secluded location. The house was rented to us by a wonderful
couple, both in their sixties, who had read in the local papers about
the problems we were having with my sister and they offered us this
place as a way of escaping. I remember my Dad telling them we'd never be
able to afford the rent and Dominic, the owner, asked how much we paid
at the old place. When Dad told him, he asked if we could afford that,
Dad said 'just about' and Dominic said that that's how much the rent is.
Just like that. I'd never met anyone like him before. Ever.
Maybe I should explain about the issue we had with my sister. She wasn't
a problem, and none of the family had a problem either, it was just
idiot neighbours and locals. You see my sister used to be my brother,
but she didn't want to be a boy. Bill was four years older than me and I
idolised him, he was the best big brother in the world because he didn't
mind playing dollies with me. We'd sit for hours making up stories have
having the dolls play the characters. Every year he bought me a new
dolly for my birthday. He told our parents that he didn't want to be a
boy anymore when he twelve. Dad didn't take it very well at first, Dad
was a fireman and had wanted Bill to follow in his footsteps. Best thing
is, Bill did, just as Billie. Of course, Dad had accepted Billie long
before that happened, it only took a few weeks for him to come around to
the idea. I think when you love your kids it doesn't matter what they
are, you always love them and my Dad was brave enough to show his love
for Billie. Mum never had a problem with it from day one, she said that
Bill had always been a sweet boy and it explained a few things. She also
said that Gran had been convinced that Bill was going to be a girl all
the way through her pregnancy and was quite put out when he came out as
a boy. I always thought that it was a shame Gran died when I was three
years old and never got to find out that she was right.
So, at home it was all right, but when Billie started going out wearing
girls clothes people got really horrid. People that we'd always thought
of as friends were calling him a freak and saying that Mum and Dad were
bad parents. Even the school sent him home saying that he was
inappropriately dressed and he could only go back if he wore proper
trousers. Being eight at the time I didn't think that was fair because
the girls in my school were allowed to wear trousers so why shouldn't my
brother be allowed to wear a dress.
One night somebody painted 'child abuser' on my Dad's car bonnet and
somebody else through a brick through the house window. We moved to a
new house a couple of times to try and escape but the haters always
found us. Billie was getting very sad and I could tell Mum and Dad were
worried that he'd hurt himself. That was when Dominic and Lynne got in
touch and offered us this house. They owned a whole village, almost, and
were very strict on the type of people that they let live there so, for
the first time in ages we were able to relax a bit. Billie and I were
both home schooled at first but Mum eventually got me a place at a local
Primary School with a very nice Headmaster called Mr Edwards who knew
about Billie but never told anyone else. Billie never went back to
school but she did go to college when she was sixteen, by then it wasn't
so easy to tell that she had once been a boy.
The day Michael arrived at the house Billie and Dad were at the fire
station showing a school class around. Neither of them were full time
firemen, that sort of thing doesn't exist in the countryside much
anymore, but they were both given time off their normal jobs to carry
out their duties as fireman. Most of the time Dad worked in a factory
making vegetarian sausages and Billie was a barmaid, but fighting fires
was what they loved and what they should have been allowed to do all the
time. But, as I know only too well, life isn't like that.
Michael turned the charm on with Mum, possibly a bit too much but she
seemed to like him. He looked at the pictures in the living room,
laughing at the one of me sat in a big tin washbowl in the garden on a
summers day. He stopped when he came across a picture of Bill holding me
when I was a baby.
"Is that a cousin or something?" he asked. I had already told him that I
had a big sister, but I hadn't told him about her past.
"No that's my brother," I replied.
"You never mentioned a brother before." A look of concern came over his
face, "did something happen?"
"What? No, nothing like that anyway," I answered and then, without
thinking of the consequences I carried on, "I used to have a brother but
now I have a sister. Billie was Bill."
My boyfriend went quiet for a moment.
"Are you all right, Michael?" I asked suddenly realising that, although
Billie was perfectly normal to me she might not be to him. "Is there a
problem?"
"What? No." Michael tried to smile. "Nothing at all. I can't wait to
meet her."
By the time Dad and Billie had made it home Michael and I were unpacked
and sat in the front room with a cup of tea and a very talkative Mum.
Michael held back while I raced forward to hug my big sister and my dear
old Dad. I simply assumed that my boyfriend was a little nervous at
meeting Dad and wanted to give me a bit of space to get emotional. When
I introduced him, he was very polite to my sister but I did notice that
he didn't catch her eye. I wasn't worried, I just thought that he was a
little bit nervous at meeting his first gender fluid person. I was sure
that he'd come around, just like Dad did.
My first indication that things were not as perfect as I'd hoped came
half way through our second year in Bristol. I'd wanted us to share a
flat and be like a proper couple but Michael told me that he had agreed
to move in with some of the lads of his course so that they could work
together on projects. That wasn't my problem, it made sense academically
even if it spoiled my visions of a happy home. My problems began when a
friend insisted I went with her to a pub in Portishead, a place on the
outskirts of Bristol that I normally wouldn't visit because I didn't
have a car. But she did and I assumed that she wanted to get away from
something or someone so I agreed to go.
As we pulled up outside a Brewers Fayre with a big hotel attached to it
Marie, my friend, turned to me in the car looking very serious indeed.
"Jen, I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know how to tell you...so I
thought I should show you instead. Now I'm not so sure it's a good
idea."
"What do you mean?" I asked, clearly puzzled.
Marie took a deep breath. "Come on, we're here now. As I said, I'm
sorry."
With that Marie got out of the car and I followed, with trepidation.
We pushed open the door to the pub come restaurant and stepped inside.
The room, like all such rooms around the world was dimly lit and had a
constant buzz of noise from the customers, music and fruit machines
dotted around the walls. Marie was clearly looking for something
specific so I did the same, even though I didn't know what, or who, I
was supposed to be looking for. Not that I needed to know when I saw
him, my Michael in the arms of girl I'd never seen before. Marie must
have felt my body stiffen because she followed my gaze and grabbed my
arm when she saw where I was looking.
"I'm sorry, Jen," she said for the third time since we'd arrived, "come
on, let's get out of here." She tried to pull me away but I couldn't
move. It wasn't that I didn't want to leave, if I could have been
anywhere other than that bar at that moment I would have, but my legs
wouldn't move. I stood there, frozen to the spot, watching my boyfriend
snogging with another girl. I watched as his head turned, in slow motion
towards me, I watched as his eyes opened mid-kiss, something I never
knew he did, and I watched as his brain registered that I was standing
there, right in his line of vision. I saw the horror in his eyes as he
pushed the girl away and I regained my ability to move as he rose from
the seat and ran towards me.
"Don't you come near me," I spat as he got close and he actually
recoiled at the venom in my voice. "Don't you ever come near me, go back
to your new friend and I never want to see you again."
At that point my legs started moving, possibly on their accord, and I
turned around to walk out of the bar.
I wish I could tell you that I never saw Michael again and that I met a
wonderful man and had a happy life. But that wouldn't make for a very
good story. I did manage to keep him away from me for three weeks,
friends would answer the phone and turn him away from my door for me.
But when he started sending gifts and dedicating songs to me on the
radio I began to weaken. When a Mariachi band serenaded me under my
bedroom window, I caved and let him into the house, vindicating myself
by claiming I did it to shut the band up and save my neighbours. But the
upshot of it all was that Michael was back in my life, albeit with
promises he would never stray again. He did, obviously, two months later
in fact. I surprised him at home because he'd told me that him and his
roommates were working on a piece of software and wouldn't be able to
get out. I hadn't intended to stay but, knowing them as I did, I thought
it would be nice if I took them a few pizza's so they'd at least get
something to eat. When the door was opened by Phillip, one of the
roommates, I could see from his eyes that I was the last person he
wanted to see. Now I have to tell you that Phillip was a real sweetie
and exactly what you'd imagine a computer geek would look like. After an
initial, fruitless, attempt to stop me, the poor boy ran after me
apologising. Why do people always apologise when you are about to find
your boyfriend messing around on you? As I passed the living room I
glanced in but only two of the five computers were switched on and one
of those, I knew, was Phillip's.
"Is he in his room?" I shouted, already storming up the stairs to
Michael's first floor bedroom. Phillip trailed after, no longer trying
to stop me, just resigned to what was about to happen.
I didn't knock, simply barging the door open, piping hot pizza's still
in my hand.
"You son of a bitch," I shouted before, instinctively, hurling the food
at him and the blonde he was sharing his bed with. I guess I was lucky
that I didn't burn either of them but at that point I didn't care. I
just threw the pizza's barged past poor old Phillip and ran home, tears
streaming down my face.
I was lucky, back then, because I lived with the most wonderful group of
friends in a shared house in Redland. I'm also pretty sure that I tested
their patience, and our friendship, to breaking point over my student
years. They warned me, time and again, they told me not to give him
another chance. But did I listen? Well, I did, but Michael can be very
convincing and, once again he talked me around. It took longer than the
first time, but I still caved and I still believed him when he told me
it would never happen again.
By the end of my third year, and the end of Michael's course he had
cheated on me a further three times. I didn't learn my lesson though,
every time he did it he managed to convince me to take him back.
On the day of his graduation ceremony Michael pulled of the biggest con
of his life. He proposed and, despite everyone I knew telling me not to,
I accepted.
We were married in a small ceremony in the Church of St Michael back
home in Norfolk. Billie was my matron of honour and Dominic's
granddaughter my bridesmaid. Michael had a friend from university as his
best man but his family refused to attend. They did not approve of our
marriage either it seemed. After the wedding, we returned to Bristol so
that I could continue my studies and Michael took a job with a
burgeoning software house. Marriage seemed to bring my new husband to
his senses and there were no further dalliances, at least, none that I
knew of. I worked hard at my studies and he worked hard at his job so
that, by the time I graduated we were already in a relatively
comfortable position. Things immediately jumped to another level when I
landed a very prestigious job at the local Davenport's Pharmaceuticals
Laboratories. Davenport's were reputed to be the world leaders in the
field of gender reassignment, creating drugs and devices especially for
those wishing to correct mistakes of gender that nature made. Because of
my sister I had dreamt of landing a job with Davenport's and now it had
happened, my life was perfect.
To be continued...
If you can't wait the next chapter has already been published and is
free to read on my blog at
https://anna-namaus.wixsite.com/mysite/blog
Mara
- 10.05.2020
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