Was It Fate Or Stupidity free porn video

I had to work a double shift last night, working through the night because someone called in sick.

Our software firm deals with customers from all over the world, so we need people online twenty-four hours a day, to avoid losing business.

The boss knew I was beat when he arrived at work and saw me. “Go on home, Jeff,” he advised.

He had been pleasant towards me for several months now, which was unusual, and made me wonder what I had done to deserve it. 

With a weary smile, I answered him, “Good idea, thank you.”

It was early Friday morning, so I was glad to leave and head home to begin my weekend with much-needed sleep.  It was almost sunrise and I idly thought about how I would spend the next couple days as I walked to the parking lot.

My boss had parked his overpriced Denali right next to my car and, as I drew closer to the vehicles, I noticed a figure crouching between them, but nearer to the Denali.

My eyes were telling me that the person was covered in rags, but I had been up for over twenty-four hours and my eyes were very tired. I thought that they might be playing tricks on me, so I rubbed them and tried to focus. No change. There was certainly a person dressed in rags between the cars.

“Good morning,” I greeted them from a respectable distance.

A very dirty unkempt face turned towards me, and the owner jumped up in alarm.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just trying to get warm.”

It was a female voice and I wondered why she would be out in the parking lot. I held up my hands, palms out in a friendly, non-threatening gesture, and told her, “It’s ok, you’re not in trouble. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you ok, is there something I can do for you?”

“No, no. I’m leaving. I won’t bother you,” she said and started to walk away.

“Hey,” I said. “You wanna warm up in my car, and I could buy you a hot breakfast?”

She stopped moving away, turned, and angrily said, “Fuck you, asshole.”

This took me aback. Then I thought about it for a moment and realized what she must be thinking.

“No, no. I wasn’t wanting anything like that. I just got off work and I’m going to get some breakfast. Now if you are hungry, I would be willing to buy you something. No strings attached.”

I was holding my hands up when I said that, trying to set her at ease.

I think the fact that it was a cold September morning and she wanted to get warm, caused her to reconsider. She seemed to decide that I wasn’t an immediate threat.

“Where?”

“There is a Denny’s not far up the street.”

It took her a moment or two, before she accepted. “Ok.”

We got into my Rogue, which was as cold inside as the early morning was outside, because it had been sitting there all night. I started the engine.

The trip was quiet, and the car only started to get warm as we pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

We got out and walked inside looking forward to some warmth and sustenance. After favoring us with a disapproving look, the hostess led us to a booth, dropping the menus on the table then walking off without a word. I became immediately offended.

The waitress came over, and she also gave us a disapproving look, before taking our orders.

There was a long permeating silence as we studied each other.

She looked old, but I knew that her dirty face and ragged hair would make her look older than she was.

Her hair, though unkept didn’t seem brittle, unlike some of the drug addicts I’d had the misfortune to meet.

Though she seemed shy and pensive, she wasn’t jumpy or jittery at all. She didn’t appear to have been drinking, and I had a very good nose and didn’t smell any alcohol on her. The only disturbing thing about her was that she couldn’t seem to look me in the eyes. 

 After the waitress brought us our drinks, still with a condescending attitude, I broke the silence with the raggedy woman.

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me Connie,” she said in an offhand way that suggested it wasn’t her name at all.

So, then I asked, “Ok, Connie, where are you staying?”

“Here and there.”

“Anywhere special?”

“No,” she answered.

I was getting the impression that she really didn’t want to answer any more questions, so I backed off and waited in silence for our order.

We ate a nice breakfast which, thankfully, was a vast improvement on the customer service.

After paying, making it a point to DEFINITELY short the waitress on her tip, we walked out to the car.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Connie said as she started walking off.

“Connie!” I called to her.

She stopped and turned around.

“I can put you up for a time, No strings. Just a place to hang and sleep. It is warm and there is food.”

I watched her as she looked at me, trying to figure my motivation.

“Really, no strings, and you’ll have your own room.”

“What would your wife say?”

I dropped my gaze and had to take a deep breath as my chest tightened and my throat started to close. “I no longer have one of those.”

She stood staring for a while, and I was about to withdraw my invitation, when she simply said, “Ok.”

I nodded, then we climbed, into the now warm car, and headed to my lonely home.

~~~

We arrived, and I pulled up to my garage door as it began to open.

“Nice place,” she complimented as I stopped the car.

We got out and walked through the garage then through the connecting door into the house.

I took Connie on a quick tour, pointing out the spare room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the location of the towels, soap, washcloths and so on.

I asked if she wanted a change of clothes, as hers were rags.

“You have women’s clothing lying around?” she asked incredulously.  

I nodded without saying anything and walked to the master bedroom.

She started to follow me, but I stopped her from entering.

I pulled some of my wife’s clothing off the hangers, selecting a combination of dresses, skirts, blouses, and even some jeans.  Then I went to her dresser drawers and pulled out some underwear. I carried the armload of garments out of the room as Connie watched from the doorway.

Her eyes were questioning as she accepted some of the clothing but like her, I wasn’t ready to talk about my life to a stranger right then, and maybe never would be.

I sat the rest of the items on the end of the guest bed and told her I was exhausted and needed some sleep. Then I told her I would get up around two in the afternoon.

From there I went to my bed. I got in and, immediately, thoughts of Connie were replaced with memories of my beautiful wife and happy life that I had lost. I wept, as I did most days before falling asleep.

~~~

I don’t know what I expected to find when I awoke. I’d been sleeping soundly and almost anything could have happened. I could have woken to a house that had been ransacked, with furniture stolen or damaged, pots and pans strewn about, and everything of value gone. It didn’t really matter to me, because the most valuable part of my life was already gone, and she wasn’t coming back.  

Instead, as I woke and as I was becoming aware of my surroundings, I heard the soft sounds of music from somewhere nearby.

After getting dressed, I made my way to the front room. Connie was sitting on the sofa smiling to herself while listening to my stereo. That astounded me because I had bought it from Best Buy and hooked it up, but I was never able to get it to work. I was at my wit's end and had even thought about throwing it away, although it cost me a small fortune.

Now, Connie, had it working and was happily listening to it like it was no trouble at all.

When she noticed me come into the room, her smile faded, and she seemed to shrink back into the sofa.
“Good … well, I guess … afternoon?” I greeted her.

She didn’t reply, just nodded.

Connie looked as if she had showered and was now wearing one of my wife’s shirts, and a pair of shorts, in place of her raggedy clothing. She looked much fresher, and younger too. The expression on her face suggested that she was thinking about running. 

As I took in her appearance, I could tell that she didn’t belong on the streets, and dressed as she was in my wife’s clothes, my mind saw my wife Breana smiling back at me.

The vision disturbed me, and I shook my head a little then closed my eyes and reopened them. Breana’s image had faded, and Connie sat there, unaware. Relieved that what I thought was a hallucination had gone, I smiled and asked, “How was your day?”

“Uh, well. It was ok. I cleaned your kitchen for you,” she replied.

I smiled appreciatively. “You did much more than that. I have never been able to get that stereo to work. What did you do?”

“Nothing, just set it to play,” she answered.

I looked down and chuckled, shaking my head at the same time. I had never really had the energy to learn the system enough to get it to work.

“Thank you, Connie. Well, it’s Friday and I need to work on the yard.”

“I could fix you something to eat?” she said, more a question than a statement.

“Sure,” I said, not really understanding why I was placing my trust in this homeless woman. 

Connie jumped up and went to the kitchen. My gaze followed her, and I saw the kitchen for the first time that morning. I simply stared in amazement. My kitchen was clean. It had never been cleaner.

“Do you want breakfast, or would you rather have lunch?” she asked.

“Lunch please - just a sandwich would be fine.”

“No problem,” she said and turned around to fix my meal.

As I wandered off to my home office, I heard pots and pans clanging around and wondered what sort of sandwich she was making me!

I picked up my notebook computer and checked my email account. Spam, a lot of spam, as usual. Thank goodness my account had a spam button, although it couldn’t stop everything. There were a few legitimate emails which I would answer that afternoon after completing the weekend chores. Then it occurred to me that if I got them done today, I could have all of Saturday off. What a treat!

As I reveled in my joy of having a whole day off, with NO expectations, I continued to hear noises from the kitchen. There was the sound of food frying and more clanging and banging. It reminded me of happier times when Breana would be busy in the kitchen.

My chest began to feel tight, my throat felt constricted, and my tears started again. I cussed myself for being so damned emotional. I reached for a paper towel, blew my nose, dried my eyes, and tried not to scream out the anguish I felt at losing my mate.

I knew my neighbors would have heard my howls of sorrow over the past months. Some would be wondering what my problem was, but those who knew me best would understand.

Connie brought me a cup of coffee and a plate with a grilled ham and cheese sandwich on it. I stared at the plate, trying to control my emotions, and tried to smile.

I really appreciated the meal as it would provide some warmth, and fuel to burn, while I cleaned up the yard in the cold conditions. I kept smiling as I raised my head, noticing that she was looking at me apprehensively, wondering if I approved.

“This is really nice, thank you,” I said, trying to convey my appreciation.

She smiled a little then and left to clean up the kitchen.

The sandwich was great although, as I ate, I kept thinking about my wife. I willed myself to push aside the painful memories that kept trying to surface. I wasn’t successful.

I kept my head lowered so Connie wouldn’t notice my pain if she looked in from the kitchen. It also worked in reverse because I couldn’t see her.

After finishing my meal, I composed myself.

“Connie?” I called out.

She entered my office carrying a cup of coffee for herself. I pointed to a chair, and she sat.

“Is there somewhere you need to be? Or something you need to do?” I asked.

She shook her head.

I nodded. “Do you work? Do you have a job?”

“What are you getting at?” she wanted to know.

I was surprised. “Well … what was your last job?”

“You know the man who owns the Denali you found me by? He paid me to fuck him. That was my last job!”

That was much more information than I wanted, but I wasn’t surprised that my boss was fucking around on his wife.

“I didn’t mean that type of work.”

“That’s all I’m good for now,” she replied angrily.

“I know better than that,” I insisted.

“You’ve already demonstrated that you are hard-working and capable. You won’t have to do that anymore - unless you really want to,” I finished firmly.

It was then I realized that I had just implicitly offered room and board to a homeless woman in exchange for her housekeeping services. I noticed that Connie was dressed in one of my wife’s very pretty house dresses. Breana always looked beautiful in that dress and, as I stared at the woman sitting across from me, I could see my wife looking back at me with pride in her eyes.

Breana had always been proud of me for some reason that I didn’t understand. She loved to tell me how lucky she was to have found me, but I knew that I was the lucky one.

With my reminiscing, I realized too late that my tears had come again. I looked away and reached for another paper towel. I dried my tears and blew my nose again. After I composed myself, I realized that Breana’s image was now smiling at me. Smiling with pride. Previously I had envisioned her looking worried, almost paralyzed with fear, but this time was different. I wondered what had happened.

 CHAPTER TWO:

My chores in the yard involved clearing broken tree limbs and re-cultivating dried-out flower beds. It was much harder to deal with the flower beds than I thought, as I had planted them for Breana the first of spring. Of course, that was before the disaster that turned my dream life into a nightmare.

I had to concede that the yard looked a lot better, but it was sad without the flowers. The housing authority that had snuck into my neighborhood, behind my back, better not say a fucking word now. 

After the gardening, I went into the garage and pulled out a ladder and my caulk gun. Then I caulked around each of the house windows, using latex caulk as advised by the home store salesman.

After that task, I fetched my long ladder and started cleaning the gutters. A while later I regretted starting the chore because it was slow methodical work. However, keeping busy also kept me from thinking about losing my lovely wife Breana. But not for long.

It seemed that I just couldn’t stop the pain tormenting my soul.

I was very tired when I finally finished for the day, but I realized that it wasn’t a physical tiredness. After all, I had slept until after noon, so I didn’t feel physically drained and exhausted. Most of my fatigue was due to battling the demons of my painful memories.

I wasn’t thinking about Connie when I went back inside the house and walked into the kitchen looking for something to drink. Connie startled me by leaping up from the sofa.

In my mind, I could plainly see Breana jumping up off the sofa, not Connie.

I began to regret bringing Connie home but what stopped me from asking her to leave was the look I saw on Breana’s face. Yes, I saw Breana not Connie. Again. And her expression was stern. After ten years I could read her like a book and knew what she was thinking with just a glance. I knew that Breana didn’t want me to throw Connie out.

I caught my breath and tried to smile at Connie. Not very convincingly.

“I think I need to take a shower. While I’m doing that, why don’t you put on something nice, and I will take you to supper.”

I could see Connie thinking, but then she just nodded and went to her room to change. The house dress Connie was wearing was nice, but Breana had far better clothes to wear outside the home.

~~~

I took her to Frenier’s Landing because I felt like oysters and they had just come into season, even though the water temperature was still a little high. It had been a long four months without oysters and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.

Connie dressed in a stylish, yet conservative, evening dress. It looked good on her, and for some reason, I didn’t get a mental image of Breana when Connie modeled the choice of clothing.

I hurried to the master bedroom closet, retrieved the handbag, shoes and jewelry that I’d purchased to accent that specific dress, then took them to Connie.

“You want me to get all made up like your wife or something?!” she accused.

That verbal slap in the face made me realize what my actions must look like to Connie.

“Oh god no. I am so sorry,” I said and hurriedly took the things back to my room. I made a mental note to throw them in the garbage later, as I came back out.

“I am sorry for insinuating such a thing, really I am,” I said, pleading forgiveness.

After my faux pas, I didn’t quite know what to say, so I simply walked out through the garage to the car, and thankfully, Connie followed and climbed into the passenger seat. Somewhat relieved, I used the remote to close the garage door while reversing down the driveway, then headed for the restaurant.

Once there, we were shown to a well-situated table by a very friendly hostess. Then a personable waitress appeared to take our orders. I couldn’t help mentally comparing this experience with the Friday morning breakfast debacle.

Connie ordered a stuffed flounder, while I ordered three dozen oysters; two dozen on the half shell and a dozen charbroiled.

When the waitress brought the half shell oysters, she put a dozen in front of me and the remainder in front of Connie.

I chortled and smiled; Connie looked flustered and apparently didn’t know what to do with them.

“If you want to try some, go ahead,” I offered.

“Ah … ok,” she replied hesitantly.

Noting her embarrassment, I quickly grabbed my oyster fork, speared an oyster, dipped it in cocktail sauce, then put it in my mouth.

Connie watched me eat that oyster, quickly followed by two more, before she took her fork and tried for herself. She imitated my actions, popped the oyster in her mouth, and chewed.   

Green would be a fair description of her ensuing complexion, as she chewed and tried to swallow her oyster. Then she put a napkin to her mouth and surreptitiously removed the offending mollusk.

I couldn’t help chuckling a little, while trying not to be rude.

“It’s ok. It took a while for me to get used to them. Now I can’t get enough,” I reassured her.                             

“You mentioned that you’ve been waiting for four months to eat them?”

“Yea … a very long four months.”

“If you ask me, I could wait another fourteen years.”

This time we both laughed. Then guilt overwhelmed me as I recalled that the last occasion, I had laughed that way was with Breana, but that was before…

I didn’t want to think about it, so I sucked down the pain followed by the rest of my oysters.

When Connie’s meal arrived, she nearly had a stroke when she saw the size of the flounder.

“Yea, they really do it right here,” I explained.

After our meal, I drove back to the house, walked in and grabbed a beer. I was still feeling guilty and hoped that an alcohol hit would dull the pain. 

We went into the living quarters, and I asked Connie how to turn on the stereo. She pressed a button and turned a knob and … voila! … like magic, the stereo started pumping out music. We started by listening to some soft country-and-western music. I was safe from memories of the past since Breana and I would always dance to older classic rock.

We had the volume low with the intention of talking to each other, but neither of us knew what to say.

As I watched, Connie started to flag, I suggested she should turn in, and escorted her to the guestroom. Then I went to my room and hit the hay myself.  

For the second day in a row, I had a homeless woman, someone I barely knew, sleeping under my roof. Looking back, perhaps I was hoping she would steal everything and, in doing so, remove all physical reminders of Breana – something that I had been unable to do.

I laid on my pillow and again felt the sorrow and sense of loss before falling asleep.

~~~

“Wake up sleepy head, someone needs you,” the Breana of my dreams demanded.

“Get up, you have work to do.”

I woke. The emotions I’d experienced in my dreams were still with me, my pillow wet from tears.

‘Why would Breana wake me?’ I wondered.

Then I heard something from the next room. A moan. It sounded like the anguish of a lost soul. I could certainly relate to that!

Then I heard it again. Connie! I knew it was her. I quietly rose and made my way to her room.

The door was cracked open, so I was able to look inside without disturbing her.

She was crying. I could tell she was trying to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t. I knew what that felt like. I entered the room and, as gently as possible, crawled up beside her. I worked my right arm under her neck and then put my left arm over her, and gently pulled her against me. I could feel her tense when I touched her, but she didn’t pull away. I wanted to let her know that she was safe now.

She worked her way against me, and I was glad that my cock didn’t respond inappropriately for the situation.

Her sobs changed. They seemed different – not as deep or as frequent - but they didn’t stop altogether. Then, finally, I knew she was asleep from her regular and deep breathing. I fell asleep not long after.

We woke together, still embracing, apparently not having moved for several hours. I could sense that she was awake as I began to untangle from her. I was sporting a morning wood as usual, and I hoped that was not what woke her. I climbed out of bed first and she followed.

I was relieved to see that she hadn’t slept naked, but probably due to our mutual embarrassment, we exchanged no words while we were in her room.

I walked out and jumped in the shower to have a quick wash and properly wake myself up.

After drying and dressing, I came into the dining room to see Connie fixing breakfast. She was moving around the kitchen confidently as if she had lived in the house all her life. She was wearing a long nightshirt of Breana’s which looked ok on her, I suppose. Unlike the previous day, there were no visions of Breana.

I didn’t know what I felt … disappointment that I hadn’t visualized my dead wife … or relief that the sad memories might have begun to heal.

Saturday:

Connie sat two plates full of grits for breakfast on the table. One plateful each. I was glad that I was hungry and that I don’t mind grits, or breakfast would have been over rather quickly.

We sat and ate together. I could see the hint of a smile on Connie’s face this morning. I liked that. Finally, she looked down. “Thank you for last night,” she said.

I wondered for a moment whether I should confess that Breana had told me to comfort her. But I wasn’t stupid enough to share that little gem.

“No problem. Us broken people need to stick together.”

She nodded without looking at me, as the silence permeated throughout our broken home.

“Connie…” I said softly, “…are you going to stay here for a while?”

Without looking at me she replied, “If I may.”

“OK. Good. I need to go shopping today…” I continued quietly, unwilling to disturb the calm any more than necessary. “…can you help me with a list, or even come with me to the store?”

“Both,” she answered softly.

I nodded.

Breakfast cleanup was a breeze with two people working together. Then I got dressed and waited for Connie.

When she came out of her bedroom, I was amazed at how nice she looked in another of my wife’s dresses. Again, I saw only Connie, not Breana, … and I wondered why.

We went shopping and both pushed a basket. I followed Connie around the store. She was very particular with each item she chose. Especially the produce and dairy products.

When it came to the meat section, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and ordered several cuts directly from the butcher. My only input was to order some one-inch thick, rib-eye steaks, and twenty pounds of short ribs. 

When Connie questioned my choice, I replied that I liked to grill a couple times per week. And I loved smoked ribs.

She shook her head and, I suspected, immediately thought about side items for the barbeque. My guess was confirmed when we backtracked to pick up some baked beans and corn on the cob. She also made sure we had large potatoes for baking.

~~~

Later that night, after dinner, I walked into the living room. Connie was listening to music, and I thought that it was both nice and different than watching television all the time. But, as I looked at Connie dressed in one of my wife’s evening gowns, I saw Breana again.

“Hold me,” she mouthed to me. Then she nodded and mouthed again, “Hold me.”

I blinked and it was Connie sitting there, not Breana. I sat next to Connie and reached over like I used to do to Breana, before pulling her to me, laying her against my chest, and wrapping her in my arms.

I could smell her then. She didn’t smell like Breana, but she smelled good to me. My arm was again across the center of her breasts and holding the side of her stomach. Though it wasn’t sexual, it was VERY intimate.

I partially expected Connie to shy away from this type of attention, but she just laid her head back on my chest and snuggled into my embrace.

After a while, she started to fall asleep, so I rose and scooped her up into my arms. An easy enough task since she wasn’t a big woman. I carried her into the guestroom and laid her on the bed. I stood hoping that Breana would appear to give me directions, but nothing happened. I just saw Connie roll over and settle into a peaceful slumber.

I started to leave the room but felt compelled to stop. It was like a mental stop sign, but was it conscious or subconscious? I suspected that it was Bree inside my head, directing me.

‘I’m learning Bree’, I very quietly spoke to Breana, then I turned and gently climbed onto Connie’s bed, arranging myself like the night before.

Sunday:

Again, I woke with Connie in my arms. She was still asleep and softly snoring. My morning wood was pressing against her ass. I was embarrassed, and wanted to move, but was worried about disturbing her. Besides, it felt rather good.

Morality won the mental battle and I backed away from her. As I stood, I turned to look at her, and Connie was looking back up at me. She mouthed a ‘thank you’.

After breakfast I was wondering how to fill some time before church. There wasn’t much left to do, with all Connie’s help around the house.

I made sure the steaks were thawed and ready to be grilled, while Connie started making some baked beans.

I told her that we wouldn’t be eating till after twelve, because I was going to church. She shook her head in acknowledgement.

Connie didn’t go to church with me that Sunday. I went by myself and listened to some sort of sermon that I just couldn’t get my troubled mind around. My thoughts were filled with Breana telling me that I should be home with Connie, but I couldn’t understand why.

After church I promised Connie a great steak. She liked hers cooked medium and I think that I managed to achieve that. After eating lunch, we sat on the sofa and listened to more music.

Connie changed the station to gospel music. I enjoyed most of it, and enjoyed sitting on the sofa next to Connie even more.

I did have to use the bathroom a couple of times, as I was drinking a lot of tea.

Finally, Connie leaned into me and laid her head on my shoulders. I held her close and before long she fell asleep.

This time I carried her towards the master bedroom, Breana’s and my room, but as I got to the door, I just couldn’t take her inside. So, we spent another night in the guestroom. 

Monday:

I woke and climbed out of bed, while Connie remained asleep. I don’t know why but I kissed her cheek as I left the room, and then cussed myself for doing it.

I went to work and, as usual, my boss was extremely kind to me. He gave me my choice of assignments, so I took a couple of easy jobs, followed by a more difficult task to keep my mind from dwelling on the problems in my life.

I was totally focused and didn’t even realize I had worked through lunch. By the end of the day, I had completed all my tasks and Jim complimented my work ethic. I was confused because he had never done that before.

I went home and found Connie in the same dress she was wearing that morning. This time, when I looked at Connie, I envisioned Breana looking at me with concern on her face and a smile on her lips. She seemed to mouth the words ‘Get ready, get ready’ before her image vanished and I was looking at Connie.

I heard the doorbell just a few moments later. 

Connie started for the door, but I stopped her before she opened it. I looked through a window and saw the detective in charge of my wife’s case standing on the doorstep. I quietly told Connie NOT to open the door unless she was sure he had a warrant. I sat on my bed listening to the ringing of the doorbell and knocking on the front door for what seemed like ages.

Connie joined me as I hid in my room. It helped to have her there. She embraced me, as I had done for her the last few nights, making me feel safe and protected.

I could feel my tremors subside as she continued to embrace me. Tremors I hadn’t realized that I had. I felt disgusted with myself, a grown man, leaning on a woman like that, and a homeless woman at that. But I didn’t refuse her comfort because, in truth, I was terrified.

It seemed like at least an hour before the knocking and ringing stopped, and another thirty minutes before we heard their car leave.

Connie went outside and fetched the note they had left stuck on the front door.

It simply said, “Call us, we have the results of our investigation.”

I mumbled to myself, “That means they have arrest warrants too.”

I was surprised that they left at all.

That night we had a light meal and afterwards we watched a movie, rather than listening to music, using the surround sound that Connie had gotten to work. After the movie, I took her to her bed, and again we laid together. The difference this time was that I laid on my back, and Connie laid her head on my chest. Soon we slipped into a blissful slumber.

Tuesday:

Tuesday was another working day for me. Jim was nice as hell. It was beginning to freak me out. I took on two difficult jobs believing, firstly, it would keep my mind occupied and, secondly, it would prevent me from schmoozing two days in a row.

When I arrived home after work, one look at Connie wearing my wife’s house dress told me that something was wrong. Once again, I saw a vision of Breana, and this time she was mouthing ‘Don’t be mad. Don’t be mad.’ Over, and over again.

I looked away from Breana and, when I looked back, I could see Connie and knew from her expression that something was wrong.

“What is it?” I asked.

She was choking back tears, as she started to explain, “I didn’t want to, but … but … but … that note … the note the cops left yesterday…” she kept looking down. “It kept showing up. I kept putting it away, and it just kept showing up. I even threw it in the trash once, and a few minutes later it was back on the dining table! I don’t know what it was. But it just kept happening.”

I crossed the room and took her in my arms. There was no way a note could mysteriously move about a room, of course, but then I smelled Breana’s beautiful perfume. Paloma Picasso. It consumed my senses. Then I became angry. How dare this homeless bitch wear my wife’s perfume!! But then, just like that, the smell was gone, and I calmed down. 

“I called the police,” she announced while I held her.

“The detectives came back. They said that they wanted to give you this file.”

She turned and waived her hand towards the dining room table.

“It is a very well-detailed investigation. It shows that your wife killed herself because she was pressured into it.”  

“I know!!” I said stepping away from her. “They were trying to pin me with conspiracy to aid her to commit suicide. I think they wanted to charge me with manslaughter.”  

“According to the report,” she interrupted my rant. “It wasn’t you who pressured her into it.”

I looked at her.

“Then who was pressuring her?” I asked, somewhat confused.

She took me to the dining room and waved her hand over all the photos and documents she had organized on the table. Then she pointed to witness statements from some of the company’s employees and several other people.

I read the investigation summary. It concluded that: He was blackmailing her for sex. He was threating her with ‘my!’ termination and destruction. He forced her to have sex with him. And now I knew who he was. He was my boss. Jim Johnson. He was the reason my wife, Breana, killed herself. He was the reason she was dead. 

FOUR STAGES OF GRIEF:

I went into a rage. “That son of a bitch, that no good son of a bitch!!” I swore, pacing back and forth.

Connie was trying to calm me down. She grabbed my shirt trying to hold me in place. Trying to stop me from doing something stupid.

All I could see was red. I wanted to rip his head off and shit down his throat.

“Stop, stop!” she demanded, screaming.

But I just kept on.

“A weapon. I need a weapon,” I said under my breath.

“NO!!” Connie screamed.

That got my attention and I looked at her, but I couldn’t understand what she wanted, and I wasn’t going to stop long enough to figure it out. She knew that. She knew that I wouldn’t stop until I got my revenge. The cops probably knew it too, which is why they came in force to deliver the report.

“You don’t want to kill him!!” she said, but her voice had changed. Instead of concerned pleading, she was speaking in a vengeful tone.

“No, I know what you want to do to him.” She was speaking normally, rationally.

“I know exactly what you want to do.”

She had sparked my curiosity. I looked at her. I was willing to listen. I was willing to hear her idea.

“First you’re going to fuck him senseless. Then you’re going to destroy him. Then you’re going to fuck him again and again. You’re going to drive that cock of yours down every hole he has. You’re going to fuck up his life like he’s fucked up yours.”

Well, that shocked me, to say the least. I don’t know why, but I heard her out. I understood her point of view, but it was disturbing. I had never fucked a man, and to be honest, never had even the slightest desire to do it, but right then, I felt something come over me, as if I was possessed.

Connie took my hands, and I let her guide them to her breasts, over my wife’s dress.

“Come on!” she demanded in a forceful tone. “Come ON! Rip it off me, rip it off, be a man. Do to him what he wanted to do to your wife!”

I couldn’t see Connie, and yet I did see Connie. It didn’t make sense, but I had the top of her dress in my hands. I gripped it and pulled.

“Harder. Come on, man up and rip it off him!”

That keyed me, and I ripped the dress to shreds.

“That’s it, get him naked. You’re going to fuck him, so come on and fuck him!”

I kept tearing the dress until there was nothing left. Then I went for her bra and made quick work of destroying it too. She was naked except for her panties, and I hesitated briefly, wondering what I was doing.

But then she slapped me and urged me on.

“Come on, are you going to fuck me or not!!” she demanded.

I grabbed her and tossed her on the table. I shoved her back on all the papers, photos, and documents. Then I reached for her panties and ripped them off her.

“Come on stud. Fuck me. Fuck me good!”

I shoved down my pants and lined up my impossibly hard cock with her cunt.

“Fuck me, fuck me now!!” she ordered.

I rammed it into her, right up to the hilt.

“Yea, yea that’s it. Fuck him good!”

I took about a dozen strokes before I reached for her and picked her up off the table, bringing her to me, but not letting my cock leave her cunt. She wrapped her legs around my waist.

I continued to fuck her as I walked her into her room. I threw myself, with her underneath, onto the bed and continued to fuck her.

“Yea, E, O, yea… fuck me. Fuck me, Fuck Jimmy-Boy!!” she kept calling out.

I pulled out and forcibly rolled her over. I brought her ass to the edge of the bed and mounted her from behind. I wasn’t gentle, and I pounded into her cunt with abandon.

I could hear her calling out, but I really didn’t know what she was saying. Then my cock erupted inside her.

With the force of the orgasm, coupled with the adrenalin loss, and all the emotions that had built up… I collapsed on top of her, totally spent, without enough energy to roll off.

She took my weight, even with her face pressed into the mattress.

Then I completely lost it. I began to wail. My cries were loud and uncontrollable.

“My wife is gone. And that bastard, Jim, killed her!”

CHAPTER:

I was sitting on the love seat in my front room drinking a cup of coffee that Connie had made for me. She walked into the room holding a small jar of something. She held it up for me to see.

“Here, the next time you fuck Jimmy Boy, you can fuck him in the ass.”

I was truly all fucked out, but I loved her attitude. Not to mention, she had just saved me from going to prison for murder. I knew that in the state of mind I was in, I would have killed Jimmy-Boy. I would have beaten him to a pulp and taken a knife and slit his throat. I was so glad she stopped me.

I smiled at her quip and patted the seat next to me.

She sat down and then I kissed her. It was a soft kiss that lingered just a little, and was very sensual, but nothing too sexual.

Then I asked, “Let me see them.”

She looked at me, knowing what I wanted to see, but not really wanting to show me.

“They are fine,” she tried to assure me.

I nodded and asked again, “Let me see, please.”

She was very hesitant but nodded with resignation.

I opened her blouse and saw what I’d feared. I’d marked her lovely breasts with several black and blue bruises. I could almost make out one of my handprints.

“God, I am so sorry for this,” I said, begging her forgiveness. 

“I’m not. I see them as badges of honor. I am proud to wear them.”

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her to me. I held her in the embrace for quite a while, reveling in the feel of having a woman in my arms again.

“I never thought I would hold a woman again after I lost Breana,” I started.

She kept quiet but I could tell she was listening.

“She was everything to me. We met in high school, and she encouraged me to go on to college. I would never have gone if not for her encouragement.”

“I got into computer support and excelled at it.”

I stopped, wondering if she even wanted to hear my story.

“Go on,” she urged. 

“Are you sure?”

“I just got my ass kicked because of this woman. Yes, I’m sure. I want to know more about her,” Connie replied.

I chuckled then said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just continue.”

“Ok, then … She and I were together for the four years I went to college. I got a job at J and J Support Systems. They seemed to love me.”

I had to take a break to get my thoughts together.

“Did the investigation say how long he had been having sex with her?” I asked.

“No, the report said that he was trying, but didn’t know if he had succeeded.”

She paused, then elaborated. “He had blackmailed other employees’ wives too. Several came forward to report what he had been doing to them. Some of their husbands even knew he was fucking their wives.”

“I want to bury that bastard.”

“The detective gave me the numbers for three lawyers who specialize in civil litigation. He thought you might like to sue the bastard after he’s been prosecuted in criminal court. The first lawyer likes to go for a quick settlement. The second lawyer would take a while but wouldn’t play nice. The third lawyer is the most expensive and would take a scorched earth approach, but would take a while to get it done,” Connie explained.

“Tomorrow I am going to start to scorch the earth,” I said determinedly. “I have a 401K that I am fully vested in. I have a lot of money in a brokerage fund, and I still have my wife’s insurance.”

I sat resolutely. That bastard would pay dearly for what he did to my wife. 

As we sat, I thought about the wonderful woman who had saved my life. Well, saved me from going to jail anyway - when a question popped into my head.

“Why? Why did you do that Connie?” I looked at her, totally puzzled.

“You know I might have hurt you, in fact, I did hurt you. You insisted on stopping me from going after him… Why?”

Connie looked at me, and I could see tears building in her eyes. I hugged her, and gently held Connie’s head against my chest to comfort her, while I waited patiently for her to speak, which she finally did.

“I was married to a wonderful man,” she spoke softly.

“He was a wonderful provider, lover, protector. Everything.” She took a breath. “But he was fifteen years my senior and, as he aged, his body slowly deteriorated. I guess most people’s bodies do that.” She breathed for a few seconds. “He had a beer belly, and his arms lost all their tone. He was an accountant and worked far too hard to work out regularly.”

She got up, “I’m thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

She went to get something to drink and handed me another beer, before sitting across from me. It was almost like an old-fashioned stare-down, but I knew she was just collecting her thoughts. I wondered if she was worried that I would disapprove and kick her out of my house. I was about to tell her that there was nothing she could say that would cause me to do that, when she opened her mouth to speak again.    

“I cheated on my husband,” she announced. “With a much younger guy. He was in far better shape, more energetic … even a bit more handsome.”

“The first time we did it he had seduced me. My husband was out of town for a week. He took me to his house, and we were all over each other like horny teenagers. I couldn’t stop myself. I stayed there for almost that entire week. I couldn’t say NO to him.”

“He fucked every hole I have several times a day.” She chuckled ruefully. “He even fucked me while I was talking to my husband on the phone.” She shook her head. “He wanted to control me, I guess. He loved the fact that I was married, and he kept asking me to tell him how much better he was than my husband. But after a while, I got sick of that game and told him I wouldn’t criticize my husband anymore. That annoyed him. I’d ruined his fun, so he threw me out of his house.”

“I went back home to prepare for my husband’s return. He wasn’t due back for another two days, but he was already there. He said he had come home to surprise me. He knew all about my lover. He told me that he had to go out, and that I should wait for him. He promised that we would talk more when he got back.”

She was quite restless, and I could tell she was nervous and upset.

“I waited for two days before the police knocked on my door… they told me that my husband had been killed by my lover … on his front porch.”

Tears dripped from her eyes and down her cheeks.

“My stepson … well … Ralph had my stepson as his beneficiary. He was supposed to take care of me with his insurance and all. But after he found out about my affair, he cut me off and I became homeless. So, I am without means or money.”

 “We all make mistakes don’t we,” I said.

She ignored my statement and finished, “That’s why I stopped you. You had the same look that Ralph had on his face when he left to confront my lover.”

“I was going to find him and kill him, if the truth be known,” I agreed.

She looked up at me, seemingly to judge whether I still felt that way.

“What you did definitely saved me from going to prison. Or I may have underestimated him, and he could have gotten the better of me.”

I thought for a few moments.

“Yea, I would say you may have saved a life today.”

Connie smiled, and I noticed for the first time that she had a pretty smile. Then I saw the blouse she was wearing. It was one of Breana’s, and I could see Breana’s smile as well.

“Thank you,” I said to Connie. Then I mouthed ‘thank you’ to Breana.

Breana’s smile brightened, but Connie’s smile faded, and she looked confused.

Suddenly I was full of energy. I stood and picked up Connie. She was astounded that I had the strength to scoop her up and hold her to my body.

I felt her wrap her legs around me and hold me so I could never get away. I took her to the master bedroom this time and tossed her on the bed. Then I gently laid beside her and began to make love to her.

I kissed her mouth, her neck, and her breasts, which were very firm and full. I kissed her belly, then her legs, and then I kissed her center. I used my tongue to pleasure her till she screamed. Then I continued. I mounted her missionary and fucked in and out of her until I came deep inside her.
 

EPILOGUE:
 

Well, that was ten years ago.

Everyone should know that Jimmy-boy got exactly what he deserved. The cops commended me for going to work that week after their investigation was complete. It gave him a false sense of security.

They arrested him just a few hours after he was served with the class-action suit brought by me in conjunction with many other employees whose lives he had ruined.

He had amassed a fortune worth 60 million dollars that my lawyers and myself destroyed, in memory of Breana. Jimmy-boy was sentenced to serve seven years in prison for manslaughter.

I seethed as I watched him escorted out of the courtroom.

His company, and all his private holdings, were seized and brought forth to settle the class-action lawsuit. I received a huge windfall, because I had suffered the most at Jimmy’s hands, however, everyone else did quite well too. Especially my lawyer.   

Even though I miss Breana like a man misses breathing, she doesn’t appear to me as often anymore. Connie only has one of my wife’s dresses left and promised me that she would never throw it away. It hangs in the corner of our bedroom, on a permanent hanger. Sometimes after Connie and I make love, and she is resting her head on my chest, I can still see my Breana in that dress standing in the corner. She always has that expression of pride on her face.

Our three children are growing up strong and smart. Connie is a fabulous mother of our twin girls, Breana and Raphine, and boy, Jeffery junior. And I know that Breana watches over us.

Thank you,

Lee