Anthea s baby 1
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The Wrong ManChapter 2 free porn video
Some of the readers of part I felt my character was too harsh. Other people called him sick. To those folks I have to ask, how is a man supposed to act when catching his "loving" wife being unfaithful, learning of her long term betrayal, while being taunted by her lover?
The divorce with Kelly was over in six months. Now, eight months later, I pondered if I should have let her see my pain. If for no other reason than to let her see how her actions destroyed my life. I realized that I had lost control on the night I caught her. I didn't feel good about that. I guess I was a bit insane at the time.
Since then, I tried not to allow myself to grieve the death of our relationship. I needed to keep the anguish at bay. Never the less, I was continually depressed. My sub conscious mind kept asking questions for which there was no answer.
For the first six months after our separation she tried to call me a number of times. If she left a message, I erased it. If I answered and I heard her voice, I hung up. It was a matter of self defense. I knew, despite everything, that I still loved her. She knew how to get to me and I didn't want that. My dignity, pride and self respect depended on my staying strong. I couldn't let her hurt me again. The less angry I became, the more vulnerable I felt. My love for her had not died, but I could not be with her. After the divorce was final, she gave up and stopped calling.
What was she going to say? I love you, it was just sex, honey, I'm a nympho manic, he drugged me and forced himself on me four years in a row ... I didn't want to hear it.
She signed the papers and didn't show up at the final hearing. It was just as well. I didn't want or need to see her again. It was impossible to tell if her absence indicated her pain and acceptance that our marriage was over or she just didn't give a damn. I used to think that I understood her. After what I had witnessed, anything was possible.
Flash backs of her defeated and sad face the last time I saw her were etched into my brain. Oddly, that image grew more powerful with time, while the picture of her and her lover began to fade. Even thought I knew that our love was a lie, I still missed her. God help me, but I could never trust her again.
There would be no way to know if she ever really loved me. Was she a slut when I married her? Was I just a pawn in some secret master plan? I couldn't understand how she felt it was ok to make me a cuckold. If she loved me, how could she show me such disrespect? The questions made me feel inadequate and confused. I didn't think that I could ever trust another woman. I needed to do something, but I didn't know what to do to shake her out of my life.
My so called revenge against her was a matter of wishful thinking. It depended on her having loved me as much as I loved her. She could have been screwing her brains out as soon as I turned the corner. I didn't want to be the only one hurting. The reality hit me that I never really knew her. I had been in love with an illusion. Could it all have been smoke and mirrors? The questions were driving me crazy.
The death of our marriage occurred without warning. Like a flash of lightening and a clash of thunder, my life as I knew it was over in one night. When the story got out as to what I did that night, some of our friends saw me as a heartless villain, others felt I should have found ways to have punished and humiliated her more than I did. None of that mattered anymore. I was no longer enraged, just lost. I didn't want to dwell on the past, and I had no plan for the future.
I received five hundred thousand dollars in hush money from the president of the company with the understanding that I would keep the name of the company and his nephew out of the courts and newspapers. He even tried to give me Jim's vice president position. There was no way that I could stay there. I couldn't bear the looks of my, one time, colleagues. Their faces said it all. Some of them pitied me; others saw me as stupid or weak for "allowing" my wife to cheat on me for so long. To the people I had known for so long, I was a victim or an idiot. Just about everyone knew what was going on with Kelly and Jim, except me...
With the hundred grand I received from Jim to keep me from suing him for alienation of affection, my share of the equity in the house, and my share of our investments, I decided I didn't need to look for work any time soon. I started drinking everyday to fill the lonely hours and empty space in my life.
While drinking my troubles away one night, I had a conversation with the bar tender at my favorite watering hole. His name is Fred. He's in his fifties and has grey hair and a face that had seen a lot of bad road. Fred was a straight shooter, that's why I always liked him. His eyes reflected years of acquired wisdom. He's the kind of guy you wanted on your side in a bar fight. He'd heard it all and done it all. He didn't have to say it. I just knew.
I had brought Kelly to the place a number of times. It was close to home and we both liked it there. The food was good and the music was jumping. After 8:00 pm they had dancing. The last time Kelly and I were here, we danced as if tomorrow would never come. We only danced with each other and starred in each other's eyes lovingly. Why didn't I see the betrayal in her eyes? I don't know, maybe I didn't want to. Then, we went home and made some wild love. We'll never dance again, except in my mind. I scanned every woman who entered the room. I guess I was looking for Kelly, while at the same time dreading seeing her.
"Jake, I've never known you to be a heavy drinker. I'm worried about you, brother. You're working on your third scotch and you haven't been here fifteen minutes. I hope you don't mind me butting into your business, but you look like a man who has a lot on his mind. It's slow tonight ... I've been tending bar long enough to learn how to listen if you want to talk about it."
I was happy to finally let it out. There had been too many conversations in my own head. Fred listened as I told him my story. He said nothing for a long time.
"Your ex was in here a couple of weeks ago, Jake. She was beautiful as usual and she didn't look like she was grieving to me. She kept looking around, the same as you've been doing. She could have been looking for you. She probably does love you in her own fucked up way. Don't even try to make sense of it. She came in with an older guy who acted and spoke as if he was some kind of royalty. You could see he had some money and was used to getting his way. She didn't look happy. Then again, she didn't look unhappy either. The deal is, you're crying in your beer and suffering alone and she's dancing."
A new image of my ex flashed in my head. I could see her, smell her perfume, and hear her laugh. It was far away from the sobbing wretch that I left, but the sexy manipulating force of nature she was. Well, so much for my revenge. I wondered if she had felt any of the torment and loss that had plagued me since the night we parted. I said nothing as I hung my head, lost in my thoughts. The grief that I had been trying to repress rushed over me. I was powerless to stop it. I was glad Fred was there. I felt ... I felt an overwhelming sense of mourning for what was dead and gone. Fred understood what was happening to me.
"Now, what I'm about to say may sound a bit hard, but you have got to suck it up, Jake. Your situation has changed and you have to change with it. That's all you need to know. Grow up ... Get your body back in shape, move on. On your feet, soldier ... March or die ... The answers to your problems are not in a bottle. You're stuck, and if you don't watch out, you could be there forever, hiding in a bottle. You're close to losing respect for yourself. If you let that happen, you have only yourself to blame. The first thing you need to do is go get laid, then go get laid again. You're too good a man to let the bullshit get you down. Find yourself a real nasty slut. Then fuck her until you pass out. Clear you head and get on with your life." Fred said, sounding like a combination of friend, counselor and a little touch of drill sergeant. My weakness was embarrassing.
I followed Fred's advice. I stopped drinking, started working out and screwed every female would cooperate. It wasn't love and I couldn't remember most of their names. The recreational sex helped me reacquire my self esteem. We didn't make love, we fucked. They became the life preservers that kept me from drowning. I needed more than that. I needed to feel loved.
As I felt better and my confidence grew, the more female attention I seemed to attract. It came to me that I was not the cause of Kelly's behavior. If anything, I should have addressed her self centered manipulating ways a long time ago. Whatever demons drove her were not of my making. When I realized that, my depression began to lift. I needed to get out of town, away from her. I didn't need to see or hear anything that reminded me of her. I bought a motorcycle, sold or gave away my possessions and headed south.
I hit the road with no map or destination. It didn't matter what road I was on. They all went somewhere. Sitting on the bike I was free. It had been a few years since I had ridden. Before I left the state, I was one with the bike and the road. I was no longer a white collar drone or a drunk. I felt like a modern day cowboy. The bike was my horse ... beautiful, powerful yet fragile, and would kill you if the rider didn't stay in control. I was a biker and the road in front of me was more important than what was behind. I was in control of my life. The bike did as I instructed it to do. My safety was my responsibility. These thoughts became integrated into my life philosophy.
As I rode, I could smell the rhythms of life around me, feel slight temperature variations as the hills and valleys rose and fell while the scenery blurred by. It was good to be alive. I found myself thinking that I hoped there were motorcycles in heaven ... dying wouldn't be so bad.
I was in the moment. What happened yesterday or what would happen tomorrow were no longer an issue. Every mile brought me closer and closer to a feeling of peace. The blasts of wind and the roar of the big v twin engine became music to my soul. I rode through many little towns with funny names, met some interesting real people and ate a lot of greasy food. Some of the roads were good, some were bad. That's life I guess. Then, I turned west.
Just outside of Tulsa Oklahoma, I passed a woman desperately trying to get me to stop. I waited for her on the side of the road until she caught up to me. I couldn't imagine why she was alone in the middle of nowhere. She was average height, blond and very pretty. The woman was crying and looked like somebody had been smacking her around.
"Please, help me..." she said in tears. Even in her disarray, she was a good looking. Her green eyes drew me in like pools of warm water.
"Sure, how can I help you?" I asked, not sure of what I was getting myself into, turning off the bike.
"I need a ride to Tulsa. My ex boyfriend is on his way to my house. He said he's going to kill my mother and my daughter. Do you have a cell phone?" she asked frantically.
I wanted to ask her what the hell was going on. Her desperate state of urgency didn't allow for questions. There would time later to get to the bottom of it. I gave her my phone and she called the police. She seemed a little less stressed after she spoke to them.
"You don't know me and you've been more than kind, but could I ask you to give me a ride to my house. I'll show you where to go. I pray to God that maniac doesn't get there before the police, please hurry."
Before I could answer, she was on the back of the bike holding me tight. We sped up the road. I used all of my skills to get her to her child and mother. I think I broke every traffic law on the books. It felt good to have her arms around me. It felt good to be needed ... I didn't even know her name. I wasn't sure what was going to happen when we arrived. If this guy had a gun, we'd both be screwed if we ran into him.
When we arrived at her house, the police were already there. They were putting the hand cuffs on a man who was resisting arrest. Dawn jumped off the bike and ran toward the house.
He saw her and started shouting. "I'll get you, bitch ... You'll see. They can't keep me locked up forever. You'll see." He was still ranting as they drove away.
"Mama, are you and Rachael ok? I was so worried." She said, hugging her mother. Just then a cute little eight year old girl appeared.
"Mommy you're home! Jack was here. He said he was going to kill us. Why does he want to hurt me and grandma? Why Mommy?"
I stood behind her feeling a bit award. At that moment, both the mother and grandma realized I was standing there.
"Please forgive me," Dawn said. "I don't even know your name."
"Jake, Jake Grey." I said, extending my hand to Dawn.
"This is my mother, June, and this is," she said putting her arm around the little girl, "my little angel, Rachael. My name is Dawn ... Mama, Mr. Grey was nice enough to take me here after Jack slapped me and left me on the side of the road. I was so worried ... he's crazy. When I told him I didn't want anything else to do with him, I thought he was going to kill me."
"I'm very glad to meet you ladies and especially you, Rachael," I said smiling down on the little girl. "I'm glad that I could be of some help. Please, call me Jake. Mr. Grey is my father's name," I said smiling. "I'm sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances. I'm glad they got that guy before he hurt somebody. He acted like a real mental case." She didn't have a chance to answer.
Rachael chimed in, "Could you take me for a ride on your motorcycle, please ... I like motorcycles." She looked at her mother expectantly.
She had completely forgotten the drama her mother's ex boyfriend had caused and had no idea of the seriousness of the threat against them.
"We'll see, Rachael. If it's ok with your mommy, it's ok with me."
June extended her hand. As I shook hands she said, "We thank you Mr. Grey, I mean Jake. Would you like to stay for dinner? I guess we owe you some kind of explanation in exchange for your kindness."
"I'd love to stay for dinner, June. I haven't had a home cooked meal in a long, long time."
"Well, I hope you're hungry. Mama always cooks too much." Dawn said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Are you married?" asked Rachael.
"No, no I'm not. Why, do you want to marry me?" I said, kneeling down so I could see her eye to eye.
"I'm too little," she said thoughtfully. But, you could marry mommy."
We all smiled at her innocence, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Rachael! We just met, Jake, he doesn't even know us." Dawn said, in a way only a mother could.
"I know, but he has a motorcycle and I like him."
"Well, now that we have that straightened out, let's eat," said June.
I had just met these people. Never the less, I was feeling as if I was talking to family. Their sincerity and warmth, as well as their trouble, tapped into my protective instincts. There were good vibrations in this family.
I wanted more information about Jack. He appeared to be dangerously out of control. And I was seriously concerned for their safety. It didn't hurt that Dawn was a real beauty and little Rachael was irresistible. I resolved that as long as I was around, no harm would come to Dawn or her family. Suddenly, my life had a purpose.
Vera
- 06.02.2023
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