Virginia Plain

"Honey don't be like that," Jane, my wife of four years, said as she did her makeup.

I had just told her I wanted to stay home and let her go to her sister's house by herself.

Her sister hated me.

Her sister looked down on me.

Her sister belittled me.

I hadn't done anything wrong; it was simply that I was blue-collar, and in Ginny's eyes, I wasn't good enough for one of the Keller sisters. The self-proclaimed princesses of Sycamore, Illinois.

It wasn't as if they came from money. They grew up in a working-class family's home too. Their father was an electrician, and their mother worked part-time as a bartender.

I was an elevator repairman.

Ginny had married up. Much up, in fact. Her husband Brian was ten years older and a successful lawyer. He was also the Junior Senator from the Land of Lincoln.

I met Jane when I worked on the elevator in which she got stuck in her building. We fell in love and were married within a year. She always said it was my rugged charm that made her fall in love with me. I always told her it was my big dick that she loved. She never denied that.

I complained, "Jane, you know she hates me and will go out of her way to get digs in and take shots at me."

Jane shrugged, "She's not that bad. Besides, we haven't seen the headstone yet."

Inwardly, I groaned. Her parents died six months earlier in a boating accident. Brian made a big deal out of spending an obscene amount of money on their extravagant grave marker.

"Can't we just visit the cemetery and stay in a hotel?"

My wife looked at my reflection in the mirror and said flatly, "No."

I sighed dramatically for effect and grabbed our luggage. We were going for the weekend, yet still had several bags.

She met me in the garage where I finished a cigar while I waited.

"Must you smoke in here, Viv?" She complained for the umpteenth time.

"You won't let me smoke in the house."

It was the same excuse I always gave when I smoked in the garage.

"Whatever," she harrumphed and got into the passenger side of the Porsche SUV she had to have.

While I made good money repairing elevators, she made great money working for a public relations firm. She was building a reputation as a woman who could turn any shitty situation into gold for her clients. It didn't hurt that she was smoking hot and used her feminine charms to build a client base of the rich and famous.

We lived in the far west suburbs of Chicago and her sister lived in the far north suburbs on the lakefront. It took an hour to get there as we hit no traffic, and the ride was silent.

*****

"Jane!" Ginny shrieked as she opened the door to their large home.

The sisters hugged in the doorway and left me standing behind Jane holding our three bags.

They exchanged small talk for a few minutes and I dropped the bags on the marble floor and kicked off my dress boots.

"Take those to the guest room, Vivian," Ginny said with a sneer. I hated that she always used my full name.

Yeah, it's more commonly a woman's name, but my parents named me after my dad's favorite guitar player. They were probably stoned when they did it. My folks were potheads.

I picked up the bags and ignored the fact that Ginny didn't bother to say hello to me. I saw Brian using the phone in his den on my way to our usual bedroom. It was typical for him to ignore me as well, that is unless he was bragging about something or showing off to my wife. I was surprised he wasn't in Washington, but I didn't care either way.

I closed the door, set the bags on the bed, and took a seat on the chair in the corner. I opened my phone and began to read Kalimaxos' newest ebook.

Two hours later, Jane walked into the room and said, "We're going out to dinner. Get dressed."

I looked at the slacks I was wearing, and asked, "What do you want me to wear?"

She looked at me and shrugged, "Put on a dress shirt."

"I didn't bring anything except polo shirts."

She groaned, "Oh, well. You're going to look like a hillbilly."

She turned and left the room.

I looked in the mirror and thought I looked good. I was wearing one of the eighty-dollar Nike golf shirts she bought for me with a two-hundred-dollar pair of slacks. If I'd had my way, I'd have been wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Jane wouldn't stand for that.

My thick black hair was styled short, my full beard was freshly trimmed and had sharp lines, and my shirt was even tucked in. If I looked like a hillbilly, I was a damn well-dressed one.

*****

Ginny drove us to the opulent steakhouse in her new Mercedes, and I didn't bother to ask why Brian wasn't with us. They didn't speak to me on the way anyway.

The restaurant was packed and many people were waiting for tables, but the Senator's wife was ushered in without a reservation.

They lavished us with attention, and Ginny made a big deal out of ordering a bottle of Cristal for us. I got a glare from my wife when I ordered a scotch on the rocks.

"What kind would you like, Sir?" The waiter asked.

"Johnny Black," I answered.

Ginny groaned and said, "Good Lord, get him Blue Label neat."

"No," I argued. "I'll have the Black on the rocks. Make it a double."

The waiter winked and walked away. He must have known how much of a bitch Ginny was.

Jane kicked me under the table, and I ignored her as I perused the menu.

I was halfway through my drink when the seafood tower appetizer they ordered without asking me arrived. When I saw Brian approach the table, I downed it and ordered a second.

"Oh, waiter!" I called out. "Could I also get some stuffed mushrooms, please? Thanks."

Brian sat and said, "Sorry I'm late. I was talking with President Brown."

I smiled, "What's that asshole up to today?"

"Vivian!" My wife shrieked, and I didn't care.

Brian frowned, "If you must know, he's doing well and is planning a trip to Chicago soon."

"Wonderful!" Ginny grinned. "Will we be able to see him?"

"We're working out those details. He will definitely have me on stage with him when he gives his speech at a new manufacturing plant."

"Wonderful!" Ginny clapped. "That will be great for your national reach."

Brian smiled and nodded before stuffing crab meat into his mouth.

The rest of dinner was uneventful, and I wasn't included in any of the conversations. Once I'd finished my steak, I excused myself to use the restroom. No one noticed.

An hour later, I was sitting in the bar watching a basketball game when Jane walked up.

"We've been looking all over for you."

I laughed.

"Oh, yeah? You couldn't have looked too hard. When did you notice I was gone?"

"We're leaving," she huffed and stormed away.

I took my time finishing my drink and paid my tab. The women were none too pleased when I finally got back to the car.

*****

Later, in their guest room, Jane said, "If you wouldn't have abandoned us, you'd have heard Brian offer me a job on his staff."

I looked at Jane as I undressed and shrugged. She was plenty buzzed and couldn't take her eyes off me as I slid down my slacks.

"He wants me to handle his media relations and then be his campaign manager when he runs for re-election in a couple of years."

"Lovely," I said and slid my boxer briefs to the floor.

She licked her lips when she saw my freed dangling cock.

"Honey, I know I usually don't want to do it in my sister's home, but..."

I laughed and slid into bed.

"What's so funny?" She whined.

"You're drunk."

She rolled her eyes and slid her dress off. I wasn't surprised she was nude beneath her dress. She couldn't have unsightly lines you know.

She slid under the covers and took my flaccid shaft in her hand.

"Come on, Viv, baby. You can be the strong fireman rescuing the lonely woman."

I rolled over and turned out the lamp. I asked, "Why do I have to pretend to be someone else? I tell you what. I'll be the fireman, but you have to be Taylor Swift."

She huffed, "I'll be whomever you want. Just give me that fat..."

I rolled her over onto her stomach and knelt between her legs. She moaned as I pulled her hips up into me and slapped her ass.

"Oh, Viv!"

I took my semi-hard shaft and slapped her butt with it until I was hard. It didn't take long, her ass was amazing, and I loved fucking her doggy style.

"Yeah, baby," she whispered as I eased into her wetness. I was angry with her for the way she and her sister treated me earlier, so I decided to be quick and rough.

She loved it.

She was so loud as I pounded into her, I thought she'd wake the neighbors. There was no way Brian and Ginny didn't hear as I slapped into her soft flesh.

After a few minutes, I drove into her harder as I pulled her long blonde curly hair.

"Fuck yes!" She screamed. "Harder, you bastard. Fuck me harder!"

How could I not comply? I knew she was seconds away from cumming, and so was I.

Her tight walls squeezed me as I thrust in and out, faster, and harder.

I released my first spurt into her and grunted when I pulled out and shot my ropes across her butt and back, making sure to pull her back so I could get some in her hair.

It was petty, but she hated it, and I needed to needle her a bit.

She collapsed forward into the pillow with a content smile on her lips. I shook my head and walked out into the hall to clean up in the bathroom next door.

I hadn't realized I forgot to put on pants, as I was used to sleeping naked at home until I saw Ginny in the hallway.

She looked at my swinging, semi-hard dick and gasped. I ignored her and closed the bathroom door.

*****

I woke at six the next morning and saw she was in the same position. Her hair had dried cum in it, and it was still on her back and butt. She looked rode hard and put away wet. She was still hot.

I dressed in mesh shorts and a tank top. I intended to wear that outfit as pajamas, but I had never put them on.

I'll admit the tank top was tight fitting and showed off all the hard work my weightlifting had done, and the mesh shorts did nothing to hide my long flaccid member. It would be quite the show for Ginny and Brian.

When I walked toward the kitchen, I was surprised to find Ginny and Brian arguing.

Ginny said, "Don't be stupid. You're the rising star of the party. If your greed..."

"Relax, babe. That's what your sister is for. I need her to make sure the skeletons stay in the closet and if they don't, she'll put a costume over them and convince everyone they're clowns."

"We'll, I still say it's still stupid. I..."

The floor creaked and she must've heard me around the corner.

"The coffee's on the counter, Vivian," she growled and walked away. I made it a point to check out her ass which wiggled nicely under her silk robe. Brian wasn't happy I did.

He looked at my crotch and said, "Do you know what they say about guys with big dicks?"

I waited for his punchline and poured some coffee.

He stood and smirked, "Only other guys know what it's like to fuck their wives in the ass."

He chuckled as he left the kitchen. Admittedly, in the past, I had concerns about Jane cheating on me. I was never able to prove anything and dropped the idea. Senator Asshole brought back all those feelings.

I hated what I became around Ginny and Brian. I wasn't an asshole by nature, but they brought out the worst in me.

It happened every time I saw them. Granted, I rarely saw Brian. I suspected I was too low on the social meter for him to waste a shit on, and it was Ginny who drove the animosity.

"What are you wearing?" Jane shrieked as she entered the kitchen. "You really are a God damned hillbilly."

I shook my head and started searching cabinets for cereal.

A few minutes later, Ginny walked into the pantry where I wasn't finding anything.

"Get dressed, we're going out for breakfast before we go to the cemetery."

I turned and she was gone. I saw a bottle of cognac on the shelf next to the door and had to talk myself out of drinking it.

*****

"I'm so glad you're coming on board, Jane. If all goes well, you might end up my chief of staff when I'm President."

I almost choked on my veggie omelet. We never discussed her accepting the job.

"I'm excited, Brian. You're going to do great things."

Ginny beamed, and I took a drink and a deep breath to calm down.

"What's the job pay?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter, Vivian," my wife said. She pissed me off by using my whole name. She never did that, until the previous night, and it was then I knew I'd lost her to the dark side.

"It matters to me. It matters to the bank holding our mortgage. It matters to the bank holding the note on your Porsche."

"Look, Viv," Brian said. "Sure, it's a pay cut, but it's government work for the people of this fine State of Illinois. She will live in my townhouse in Washington when we're there, so you won't have to worry about that. All of her expenses will be paid by my staff allowance or campaign funds, so there are no travel costs to worry about. You'll be fine from what she tells me of your...uh, situation."

"My situation, huh? Exactly when did these conversations take place?" I asked.

I noticed Ginny look up when I said that. Perhaps she realized it wasn't a surprise job offer the night before. It was almost funny, watching the wheels turn in Ginny's mind.

Ever the politician, he dodged the question.

"I think two weeks from tomorrow should be your first day, Jane," he smiled. "I'll need to have you in Washington as soon as possible."

I didn't like what he implied by 'have you,' and I could tell Ginny wasn't pleased either. At least my misery had company.

*****

For the next two weeks, we fought incessantly. I wasn't happy being ambushed with her new job and I was more not happy with the fact that she'd be living with him in Washington DC for most of the year.

Six months after she left, I'd only seen her once.

During that time, President Brown survived an assassination attempt and resigned in scandal, and Brian was fast-tracked as the front-runner for his party's Presidential nomination. Instead of running a campaign in a couple of years for the senate, Jane was immediately installed as his campaign manager for president.

Jane missed my birthday, and our anniversary, spent her birthday with Brian and Ginny in Washington, and for all intents and purposes was gone from our marriage.

The final straw for me was when she stopped putting money into our joint account. Her excuse was that she had to keep her money separate in case the campaign was audited, but I didn't buy it. I had to dip into our savings so I could make our mortgage payment on the monstrosity she had to have.

I had divorce papers served to her on the day Brian accepted the party's nomination at the national convention. I hadn't been invited, but that didn't matter. We were living separate lives, and I wanted to move on.

I didn't think she cared as she never bothered to call me, that is until my lawyer went after her financials.

Suddenly, she tried to stop the divorce. I wouldn't take her calls, so Brian started calling me, begging me to stop the divorce on her behalf.

He offered me a million dollars to stay married. His biggest mistake was leaving that offer on my voicemail. I gave it to Fox News. I always liked how Harris Faulkner and Sandra Smith's legs were always encased in shimmery stockings.

It turned out that a Presidential candidate trying to buy off the husband of his campaign manager was big news for a couple of days. Rush Limbaugh called them the "drive by media" for a reason and they certainly proved that point with my news.

Originally, I thought he just didn't want bad press, but no other reporters ever called me or showed up on my doorstep. Our divorce wasn't news anymore, and I was willing to bet no one knew Jane was married.

After months of legal wrangling and court hearings, the judge ordered my wife to provide records of all her earnings and asset accounts.

Feces struck the rotating blades after that.

It turned out Brian and Jane were doing some kind of funny business with campaign funds. For some reason, there were ten million dollars of campaign money sitting in one of Jane's accounts.

I could never figure out how they thought they would be able to get away with it, but they tried to claim it was a lump sum income payment to run the campaign. The problem with that was she didn't report it as income on her tax return.

Long story short, that opened a can of worms, and they started looking deeper into Brian's campaign money going back to his prior campaigns.

He apparently bought everything with campaign money. The houses, the cars, the boat, everything.

When all was said and done, he lost the election and got indicted for over fifty different counts of fraud, mail fraud, and false filings and statements. It turned out he didn't trust anyone except his family to manage a larger coffer of campaign funds and not report him for his shenanigans. Which is how Jane ended up working for him.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out that instead of just paying fines, he and Jane were looking at jail time.

One of his former staffers rolled on him and took a deal from the feds to testify. Brian and Jane had no choice but to take plea deals and both went to federal prison. Brian for ten years, Jane for three.

It was bad luck for them that the Department of Justice was run by a man loyal to the President, who wasn't happy when Brian beat her out for the party's nomination.

Regardless of what happened to them, at the end of the day, my marriage was over, and I had to move on.

*****

A year went by and I sold the house and moved to a less expensive suburb. I still drove my truck and still worked on elevators; surprising to me, I was in a good place after it all went down.

Then, that asshole Murphy showed up with his law in the form of Ginny at my doorstep.

"What do you want, Virginia?" I groaned.

"May I please come in, Viv?"

"It's Viv now, huh? No sneer either. What do you want?"

"Please?"

She was crying. I sighed and motioned her in. I noticed a rusted older Toyota in my driveway.

"May I have some water, please?" she asked.

"No," I gruffly answered and sat on my recliner.

Before she got to why she darkened my doorstep, she started sobbing.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my legs. I wasn't interested in her issues, and I wasn't going to console the bitch.

I watched her, and for the first time since I'd known her, she wasn't wearing any makeup. Her designer clothes were also missing, and in their place was a pair of leggings and a scoop-necked t-shirt.

"I divorced the bastard," she blurted after calming herself.

"So?"

"They were having an affair."

I laughed, "No shit? I figured as much but could never prove it."

She looked at me oddly, "I wondered if you knew."

"No, but I suspected. There was too much I was kept in the dark about, and your ex made a comment or two that gave me pause."

She nodded, and I sighed, longing to get her out of my house.

"I lost everything," she whispered, hanging her head.

"And?"

She lifted her head and said, "I'm homeless."

"And?"

She begged, "I...hoped...I mean, you're my last hope. I've been living in my car for a week since the sheriff told me to leave my home."

"For fuck's sake, Ginny. You expect me to help you after shitting on me since the day we met?"

"No," she said through tears. "I know I don't deserve your help, but I don't really have a choice. It's taken me a week to build up the courage to ask."

I looked at her more closely and shook my head. She looked dirty. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and it looked unclean and gross.

"When was the last time you had a shower?"

"The day I left my house. I've been washing in fast food restaurant bathrooms."