Dealing With JessieChapter 6 free porn video

It was summer, and the days marched on. Jessie didn’t resign, but she turned all the household finances, though none of her money, over to Gary. He took the department head’s job at the high school. He put his house up for sale, and, being in an upscale low property tax suburb it went quickly. He bought a new sofa bed, a clothing rack, and a small bureau for the cellar. There was a small bathroom with a shower and basin so he wouldn’t have to go upstairs for any of that. Jessie signed up for some writing classes at the local state college. Dorothy enrolled at the community college, then she and Melanie got jobs at the Walmart. Katy got a new boyfriend. Jessie was getting everything she wanted. He appeared to be clueless ... as usual, and then something else popped up.

Jessie continued to talk about quitting the firm. She even signed up for evening writing classes, and of course she had to be a bitch about everything. Milquetoast that he was Gary was downstairs doing everyone else’s laundry when she bounced in.

It was August, Jessie was wearing a white cotton blouse, collar opened at the top and a pair of light brown culottes. Her hair was back in barrettes, her legs were tanned and lean, no pantyhose, just knee high socks and white sneakers. She looked shorter, but then she wasn’t wearing heels, and she looked younger. He enjoyed the sight.

She danced over and did a tidy little pirouette. “Like what you see,” she asked?

He couldn’t help it, he smiled.

She smiled too, and then said, “Too bad, you’re not getting any.” She turned around and swished her ass at him.

He noticed she was wearing a necklace he’d bought her years ago, a thin gold chain with a heart shaped pendant. Inside the pendant was a picture of the two of them. She saw him looking at the necklace and stopped smiling. As he turned back to the wash he heard something metallic clink against the side of the washer. When he turned around he saw the necklace on the floor.

She wasn’t done, she got right behind him. He could smell her perfume; she pushed her chest up against his back. He could feel her hard firm little tots. She whispered, “Miss me don’t you.”

He didn’t turn around. He ignored her. He heard her storm back up the steps. It occurred to him; she’d been doing a lot of that lately, wearing provocative little girly outfits, filmy tailored blouses with several of the top buttons undone, and very tight and very short shorts or skirts. She was taunting him. She’d done it before.

He picked up the locket and necklace and went back to the wash, but not for long. Seconds later she was back down, “Where’s my necklace?”

Gary turned around and shrugged.

“Give me my necklace,” she demanded.

“No,” was his reply.

Jessie sidled up and got him turned around with his back to the washing machine. “I need my necklace,” she said.

“People in hell want ice water,” he answered.

No answer, serious as hell Jessie stepped between his legs; putting her hands on his ass cheeks she leaned up and pressed a kiss on his lips. He kissed her back. She found his penis, and from outside of his shorts she twisted and pulled as fast and as hard she could. Watching him writhe in pain as she grinned maliciously.

The pain was sharp and intense, but Gary quickly recovered and retaliated. He grabbed her wrists, twisted her hands behind her back, turned her around, and lifted her halfway atop the washer so that the base of her back was jammed painfully against the edge. With great speed he clamped his mouth on hers and savagely bit down on her lips. He stepped back and watched her crumple to the floor.

Grasping a painfully abused mouth, blood oozing from torn lips, she cursed, “You bastard. You ignorant stupid mother fucker!” Crying, crawling clumsily to her feet she clenched her hands in tiny fists and charged, “I’ll kill you for this. I’ll kill you you worthless bastard! I hate you!”

Gary grabbed her wrists again, and again wrapped her arms behind her back. He pulled her in close and kissed the top of her well tousled sweat moistened head. He whispered, “Shut up Jessie, just shut up.”

She wilted. He loosened his grip. Her arms went around his waist. Coughing and hiccoughing, head against his chest, she let him pet her. Between muted sobs she murmured, “My necklace.”

He whispered back, “Go upstairs. Go to the den. I’ll bring it to you there.”

Putting the base of her palms to her eyes to wipe her tears away she nodded, eyes cast downward she fled back up the stairs again. Gary finished putting the load in, and started up the steps, thinking about the past winter.

He remembered back in January and February when he was truly alone he had his places, restaurants and such. Gary liked Appleby’s and a seafood place called the Taylorsville Inn. On occasions when he wanted something special there was a more upscale place close to the city called the Fox Inn. Jessie knew his eating habits, and while he had G.P.S. access to her she had the same access regarding him. He knew she was watching; he’d seen her car near his new house. Once he saw her in her car across the street from his school. If she hated him so much, why she couldn’t leave him alone, and if she was so busy at work how did she find the time?

She kept doing the oddest things; things that didn’t make any sense. Several times he recalled coming out of school and he’d see her Mercedes parked just down the street. She’d watch him get in his Jeep, and drive away. One time he deliberately drove by where her car was parked; she squinched down low in her seat like he wouldn’t see her. How childish was that?

She knew Thursday nights were his usual nights out. He was always alone, but twice she showed up, and both times she had some young man, probably a lawyer, clinging to her arm. The guys always looked like someone out of G.Q. magazine, and she was always dressed to the nines. Jessie was a beautiful woman, but since December he never could quite figure her out.

Once he was at the Taylorsville Inn eating some fresh Haddock when she showed up with one of her young champions on her arm. He discreetly watched her as she scanned the restaurant. She smiled when she spotted him. She let her hero help her out of her coat and seat her. A waitress went over, they ordered, and Gary remembered somberly watching as they chatted. Jessie was really making a big deal out of her assignation. She kept touching her companion’s hands and leaning in close to his face. Before their meal arrived, but after their first drink she got up slowly and very sexually swiveled and swayed her way to his table. She got up close, leaned down, and placed her hands on the edge of his table in such a way he had to see the deep cut of her decollate. Her blond hair was short, parted perfectly, barely reaching her neck, a few strands played fondly down her forehead and over one eye. Her makeup was perfect; cherry red heart shaped lips, a hint of color on each cheek, her pale blue eye shadow made her eyes look even lovelier. She gave him a venomous smile and said, “I bet you miss this don’t you.”

He remembered feeling numb when she said, “Yes Jessie I do.”

She stood back up, all 5’6” of her; she straightened the front of her shimmery black dress, smoothing her hands over her breasts. She smiled again, turned and walked away. He stayed and finished his meal, but the light and fluffy Haddock might as well have been sand. She’d ruined his evening and ultimately his whole weekend.

She’d only done that one time. He guessed she felt like she didn’t need to after that. Yeah, it’d been a tough and lonely winter. He couldn’t say why, but he spent way too much time trying to understand where everything had gone so wrong. He’d always loved her. He always listened to her. He’d supported everything she did. He knew what despair was. If it hadn’t been for his girls he didn’t think he would have made it.

And now it was summer, he was back in her house, and she was trying to pull the same stunts again. “Not this time,” he said to himself. He could say it, but it still hurt. He felt like a fly trapped in a web. He crossed the living room and entered the den. She was there on his old lazy boy ... waiting.

Walking over, pointing to the loveseat he said, “Over there.” She complied, while he went to the desk drawer and retrieved a brush and comb he knew she kept there. He pulled her to the floor. He sat behind her, took out the barrettes, and started to brush out her hair, “I always liked your hair short. I’m glad you’re wearing it that way again. When it’s longer it looks stringy and makes your face look thin.”

She sighed. “You’re very pretty in the outfit you have on. The blouse looks nice on you, and the pants complement your tanned legs. You’ve always been a pretty girl; that was the first thing I noticed about you, that and the way you frowned.”

“Frowned,” she said.

“You always had a frown on your face. You scared most people off with it.”

She retorted, “I didn’t frown, maybe at you, but nobody else.”

“No,” he countered, “you frowned a lot, but your parents were frowners so I guess it was to be expected.”

“They frowned because they didn’t like you. I didn’t like you either. I still don’t,” she replied.

Gary chuckled, “I can see. You’re frowning now.” He put the brush down. Her nose was running so he reached back and got a Kleenex. As he handed her one he said, “Here blow your nose.” She took the Kleenex. He asked, “If you didn’t like me then why did you go out with me?” This was all old ground, but since the winter the answers had changed.

Pretending to be on her high horse she responded, “I went out with you because I felt sorry for you. You were so damned ugly, if I didn’t show some pity you would’ve ended up an old bachelor alone with no friends and no one to remember you when you died.”

He chuckled again, louder this time, “Gee, is that why Stephanie Madeira cried when I broke up with her?”

With a quick retort she said, “Stephanie Madeira was a whore. She liked to fuck, and you were the best she could get.”

“Who told you I fucked Stephanie Madeira,” he asked?

“She did.” She said, “She said you weren’t very good, but you were the only one around.”

Toying with the buttons on her blouse he went on, “What did you think. How did I compare with all your other lovers?”

Ignoring his question she touched his crotch, “Did I hurt you very much?”

Her blouse completely undone and open he found the clasp that held her bra on. “I think you killed it,” he answered.

She kept smoothing over his slowly growing penis, “No I don’t think so.” She pulled down his fly and reached in, “No, not dead yet.”

He had one hand on her right breast, leaning forward he started licking her left nipple, “Don’t know, he whispered, “Might need mouth to lips.”

Jessie got up to her knees and started pulling his khakis down when the door flew open. It was Katy, “Mom, where’s dad? He needs to ... oh.” She quickly retreated pulling the door closed.

Gary sighed, “Well that fixed that.”

Jessie was standing, trying to straighten her blouse, “Maybe not.” Seconds later he was inside her, she was half moaning half giggling. Minutes after that she was again standing with her hand out, “Necklace,” she scowled.

He reached for his pants, found the necklace and handed it to her. As she took it he pointed to his dick, “Aren’t you going to clean me off?”

She laughed scornfully, “Yeah right.”

He watched as she turned and walked out the door. Two hours later he was cleaning the pool. She was sunning when he saw her frowning at him. He smiled. She gave him the finger.

~~~V~~~

It was later in August when everyone noticed something new in Jessie’s behavior. She was in the den the first time; he was in the living room reading the morning paper. He heard her yelling, cussing, and gagging. She burst from the den and dashed for the hall bathroom. She slammed the door shut and starting throwing up. It could be heard all over the house.

Dorothy came downstairs, “What’s up. What’s wrong with mom?”

Gary put the paper down, “Sounds like she’s sick.”

“I don’t know why,” Dorothy said, “she hasn’t been anywhere, and she hasn’t eaten anything”

Jessie came out a few seconds later. She scowled at Dorothy and shot daggers at her husband. “You bastard,” she said.

He wondered what he’d done.

She retreated back into the bathroom and they heard her throwing up again.

Melanie had come downstairs and heard it too. She seemed to be counting, she said, “Eight, nine, ten weeks, sounds about right.”

“Right for what,” Gary asked?

Melanie laughed, “Dad, you couldn’t be that stupid.”

The look on Dorothy’s face changed from confusion to something else, she whispered, “Yeah.”

Melanie, still finishing off a good laugh said, “Yeah, like golly!”

Gary got up and made for the bathroom, “Jessie?”

Out she came, lathered like a rabid dog, “You son-of-a-bitch.” She scowled at Melanie and Dorothy, she stopped, smiled and walked back to the den and went in. A minute later she reappeared, purse and car keys in hand. Looking at no one she walked out the front door, found the nearest car, it happened to be Melanie’s, started it up, and was gone.

Dorothy looked at Melanie, “Better go wake up Katy. She’ll want to know.”

It dawned on Gary, his thirty-seven year old wife was pregnant. He looked at Dorothy, “What do you think we ought to do?”

She smiled; it was a kind of condescending grin, “Looks like you’ve already done it.” He could see her figuring things up in her head, “Gosh dad, you’re thirty-nine. You and mom will both be on social security when this one graduates.”

He sat back down and thought; this can’t be happening. He counted back, Dorothy’s party, Jessie’s failures at the firm, that night, the drugs, her demeanor. It went on; eighteen years back to Dorothy. She’d done it again! At thirty-seven!

Three hours later Jessie was back. She came in the kitchen where he was emptying the dishwasher; she sat down and said, “Now we can’t get a divorce.”

“No,” he asked, “Why not?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot, “You don’t expect me to work and raise a baby all by myself do you?”

He knew it was his, but he felt like being a bastard, “If I may be so bold, but how do I know it’s mine?”

Jessie went utterly, totally, and completely berserk. She jumped from her chair and grabbed an old black skillet they’d bought when they’d first married. She swung it at him as hard as she could. She would’ve killed him, but he was just quick enough to duck her deadly shot. He managed to grab the skillet with one hand and her arm with the other. Quickly he had her pressed tightly against his chest. She squirmed and wriggled mightily, but he managed to hold her.

Slowly she began to relax in his arms. He loosened his hold. Just as suddenly she lashed out again. She escaped his arms and ran for the far end of the kitchen and the door. He gave chase and caught her from behind. It wasn’t that easy. He got a good grip but she kept writhing and turning. They fell to the floor with a thud, him on top, her underneath. Again she slowly stopped, and again he let up a little.

Still underneath she tried to bite him. He held her off. With a guttural snarl she spat out, “I hate you. I’d kill you if I could.”

He gave up, if she wanted to kill him then let her do it. He got back on his haunches and pointed toward the kitchen shelf, “There’s a stack of knives right over there.”

She didn’t hesitate. She leapt up and went for the knives. She looked them over carefully, twice glancing back at him with malevolence. She picked the biggest one, turned and started toward him. Holding the knife with both hands, mouth turned in an angry frown, eyes ablaze with hatred she closed in.

He didn’t think she’d really do it, but it did occur to him she could do it any time anyway, might as well find out.

She stood over him; the knife was inches from his face, sweaty breasts heaving. He slipped off his T-shirt. Pointing to just below his sternum he said, “The best place would be right here; it would most likely be the most painful.”

She hefted the knife high over his head. He closed his eyes. Nothing happened. After several seconds he reopened his eyes. She was still there, knife in hand, “Aren’t you going to stop me?”

“No,” he said, “I give up. Do what you think you have to do.”

She hesitated; then she threw the knife in the sink and stalked out of the kitchen. A minute later he heard her car going down the driveway.

~~~V~~~

The incident with the knife happened on a Thursday morning. She didn’t come home until Sunday. When she did she acted like nothing happened. She came in carrying a box and announced, “I’ve been shopping. We gave all our baby supplies away when Katy got older. I bought all new stuff. It’ll be here tomorrow.”

The girls weren’t home; it was just the two of them. “Gary,” she said, “I think we need to talk. I mean I want to work this through.”

Incredulous, he asked, “You do?”

“Let’s go in the den,” she said.

He hadn’t seen her this calm since before the December gala. He wondered what was going on, “No den,” he said, “that’s your lair. Let’s find some other place.” He knew any conversations about anything would go nowhere, and at this late date it wouldn’t matter.

She said, “Downstairs is yours. We can’t go there.”

“The bedroom,” He suggested.

“No, not there either,” she said.

“Then where; how about Denny’s,” he asked?

“Let’s rent a room.” She said, “There’s a Hampton nearby.”

He nodded.

She said, “OK, I’ll drive.”

He replied, “No we’ll drive separately.”

When they got to the Hampton she stood back and let Gary get the room in his name. She had a small shopping bag with her. They took the elevator up to room 314. He hadn’t seen her this calm in months, and it gave him the creeps.

As soon as they got in the room she started to undress. Off came her pretty white blouse, lacy demibra, frothy mini-skirt, socks, tennis shoes, and white panties. Her hair was mussed giving her the look of a lost but still carefree late-for-the-party debutante. He got a good look at the woman he’d married, and presumably lost; she still looked beautiful, round ass, trimmed mons because of the pool. Her legs were thin and muscular, no sign of cellulite. Her breasts were like he remembered them, medium sized, taut with dark nipples. The smattering of crow’s feet around her eyes contrasted with her otherwise still perfect heart shaped face, but he saw them as the ‘loving lines’ of a mature woman whose life had once been filled with happiness.

She was still taunting, deliberately giving him a show. From the bag she’d brought a shimmery blue two piece pajama set. It was a delightful ensemble; thin straps held a loose fitting low–necked top that did little to hide her delightful breasts, while the bottom was a flirtatious lacy shorty pajama piece that subtly revealed her rear crease whereas a not so discreet the slit in front gave a vivacious view of her woman’s special place, a place he used to love to kiss. She might have been thirty-seven, but she’d taken good care of herself. It was no wonder men chased after her.

She crossed the room, climbed on the bed and wrapped herself in one of the pillows and opined, “You got me again.”

He hadn’t moved. Mesmerized he stood silently in the middle of the room. The last thing on his mind was having some kind of talk. He mumbled, “Yeah, I guess so, but it wasn’t totally my fault was it. The girls drugged us, at least me.”

Jessie was so calm. He kept wondering; when was the storm going to hit? She was too complacent; she had to be on something. She said, “They might have drugged you, but I wasn’t. I heard them making their plans so when Melanie showed up with the dessert I took a couple nibbles, but threw nearly all of it out. She hadn’t waited so she didn’t know that.”

He was somewhat surprised, “So you weren’t drugged when we were upstairs that night.”

She replied, “No.”

“Why’d you do it then,” he asked? I mean why did you sleep with me. Why did you go so far out of your way to make love to me?”

“I was horny,” she said.

“Horny,” he responded, “You had all those young lawyers. I saw you.” He could see she was getting fidgety.

She swiveled around sitting Indian fashion, “I hadn’t had sex since that evening of the retirement dinner. I needed it.”

Something wasn’t right, he asked, “You’re taking something aren’t you.” The look on her face revealed it. “What are you taking?”

“Anafranil,” she said, “And Lamictal.”

Only half surprised Gary exhaled and averred, “What? Say that again.”

Jessie answered, “I’ve been seeing a doctor, a Psychiatrist actually. He’s been giving me Anafranil and Lamictal.”

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“No I’m not,” she replied, “they’re supposed to help me control my urges.”

Considering the skillet and knives Gary was just a little nonplussed, he asked, “How long have you been taking these things?”

“A while,” she said.

“No, come on, how long,” he protested.

“A while, that’s all,” was her answer, she expounded slightly, “He says I have some disorders.”

“OK,” he asked “what kind of disorders?”

“I’d rather not say,” she replied.

Still stumped, he asked, “What about last Thursday?”

“The frying pan, she said, “at first it was like spontaneous combustion, but the rest I knew what I was doing.”

“You mean the knife,” he said.”

“I had that,” she said. Then she added, “He’s been using hypnosis too.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, “how does that work?”

“It’s too soon to know,” she said, “he records what I say while I’m under, and I get to hear it played back. It’s mostly about you, what I’ve said, how I feel, and it’s made me think about why I’ve said some of things I’ve said.”

Gary said, “So you’ve been going to counseling.”

“Not exactly,” she answered, “but it’s been twice a week since I started.”

Gary asked, “These medications. Will they hurt the fetus? I mean baby.”

She asserted, “The doctor doesn’t think so. He said the field research doesn’t show any indications of harming a fetus.”

His mind was back searching; there were things that needed to be explained, “You’re right. We do have a lot to talk about.”

She squelched a yawn, “Gary I’m tired. I know you have a lot of questions, but can’t we just rest for a while?”

There she was stretched out on top of that big bed in that sexy blue outfit, pretending to be tired, and asking him to come to bed? Like he was going to say no? He slipped out of his clothes while she pulled down the bedspread. He climbed in and lay down beside her. He wasn’t tired; she moved and stretched languidly beneath the soft material. Her breasts slid about; the dim light reflected their shape invitingly. Using just his fingertips he touched each nipple.

Yawning again, Jessie pleaded, “Gary I really am tired.” She curled up in his arms and went fast to sleep. She must have just eaten a mint; her breath smelled of it. He wanted badly to kiss her. Eventually he got to sleep too, but as he lay there trying to drift off a great many questions crossed his mind, perhaps the biggest; did he still love Jessie enough to stay with her? Anger feuded with old affection then with loyalty regarding his daughters. He didn’t have an answer.

When he woke up she was just coming out of the shower, hair wet, wearing a towel. She looked like that woman Leonardo DiCaprio married in “Wolf of Wall Street”. He sat up and stretched.

She said, “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

Damn, he thought, another missed opportunity? He shrugged, “Arby’s?”

She shook her head, “Let’s do the Taylorsville Inn. They have good seafood, and I haven’t had any in months.”

As he slipped on his slacks he asked, “You said you wanted to talk.”

She nodded, “After we eat.”

“OK, sounds good,” he said, but he kept thinking this was another game. She teased him with the pajamas, got him in bed, but nothing happened. It was another taunt, and she knew he’d play the sensitive wimp. Damned if she wasn’t right! Now she wants to go to a restaurant and talk. He decided, psychiatrist or not, she hadn’t changed, and neither had he, still the big dope.

He took his I-Phone and went to the bathroom, “Think I’ll call the girls so they won’t worry,” He closed the bathroom door so she wouldn’t hear. He pulled up Dorothy’s number and tapped it; it rang through loud and clear, well if someone liked Miranda Lambert’s singing anyway.

It wasn’t Dorothy but Melanie, “Where are you?”

“Where’s Dorothy,” he stopped and went on, “Never mind, we’re at the Hampton out on the Interstate. Your mom wants to eat and then talk.”

He thought he heard a sigh, then, “Don’t let her get to you dad. You know we love her, I mean we’re supposed to aren’t we, what being our mom and all, but Dorothy and I know it’s hopeless. Katy I’m not sure; she’d still pretty starry eyed hoping things will work out.”

“I’m fine,” he said, “I’ll call you back later.”

“We’ll be out at the pool,” he heard a faint giggle. “We’ve all got guys now.”

He said, “Be careful,” He was worried some idiot might try to put something in their sodas.

She laughed through the phone, “We know the routine dad. Nobody’s getting away with anything. They’re all too stupid to be clever. You know that.”

“Just the same I worry,” he said.

From the other side of the bathroom door Jessie yelled, “Are we going to not?”

Melanie must have heard her, “Don’t let the old bitch put anything in your drink either, OK.”

He scolded, “Don’t talk like that Melanie. She’s your mom.”

She laughed, “That wasn’t our fault.”

“OK,” he said, “call you later.” He opened the door. Jessie was right there.

“The brats OK,” she asked?

“They’re not brats Jessie. They’re our kids,” he answered.

She smirked, “They’ve got your number,” she swung her purse over her arm, “Come on. I’m starving.”

They got to the Taylorsville a few minutes later, and it figured, it was Monday and the place was closed. Jessie said, “OK, where now?”

He said, “Appleby’s?”

She shook her head, “No, you always get your way. Let’s try Gallo’s, it’s only a pizza joint, but it’s always open.”

So they went to Gallo’s, it was open and almost empty. Inside he ordered a small pan fired thin crust pizza with sausage, mushrooms, and onions, and a Pepsi. Jessie got the house salad with Romano dressing. She got a beer and bread sticks too.

While they waited she started, “Onions, so I’ll smell onions all night. And Pepsi. Even I got a beer. You haven’t changed.”

That’s the way, he thought, set the stage, put the opposition on the defensive. That used to work. He replied, “Have you talked to the girls lately?”

“About what,” she asked? “I know what they’re doing. Dorothy’s skipping a real college for community school. Melanie and Katy are fine.”

“That’s all,” He asked?

“What else is there,” she asked back.

He nonchalantly flicked his wrist and answered, “Oh nothing I guess. Dorothy and Melanie have jobs. Katy’s got a boyfriend.”

She bristled, “What was the flick of the hand for? You know something I don’t? Am I supposed to keep up with every trivial little thing? Where do they work anyway?”

“They work at Walmart.”

She flicked her hand, “That’s the best they can do? You couldn’t get them anything? Oh I forgot, you’re a school teacher.”

Gary played it bland, which was his usual, but he recognized the gamesmanship, always the complaint, never quite enough, and it was always his fault, “Walmart’s a good start. They’re acquiring three very valuable attributes from the experience.”

Jessie scoffed, “Oh, and what would they be?”

He smiled, “They’ll make a little money. If they borrow on it they’ll establish a credit, and best of all they’ll find out what they don’t want to do the rest of their lives.”

She looked off. There wasn’t anything she could’ve said. With a wistful half-smile she softly muttered, “I should’ve have gotten them in somewhere. They’d have met some real people and made a lot more money.”

He’d whipped in on that one; smiling he finished it off, “They’re working where their friends work, and they’re close to home. It’ll be a good experience for them.” He watched her bite her tongue, she so wanted to come back with something.

Finally something came out, “So says the great bard.” And then, “So how’s the house coming. You getting all your chores done?”

He grinned, “Yes Missus McGowan. I be doin dem chores real good.”

The food arrived and they started eating. She only picked at her salad. He noticed her eyeballing his pizza so he asked, “Want some?”

She scowled, “It wouldn’t put you out would it?”

He pushed his pizza across, “Trade you, a piece of pizza for a bite of your salad.”

She pushed her salad forward, “Try not to slobber all over it.”