REAL. My father was not a nice person. He was abusive, manipulative, and more. I'll leave it at that. This has a lot to do with the story.
Somehow, my father had contacted me after I had severed all contact with him. Somehow, my wife had encouraged me to accept my father's invitation to come visit so he could show off his new trophy wife. A trophy wife? I asked myself.
So the day comes, and we get a phone call. He's leaving the house and going to drive straight here. 1600 miles. Well... I hope that trophy wife of his keeps him awake because I've made that drive before, and it's a bitch.
Let me preface this by saying the internet wasn't prevalent. We still had an answering machine on the countertop. There were no cell phones. Payphones were the way to call while on the road.
We get a phone call, and my wife answers it. It's not my father--it's his new trophy wife. She's out of her mind. She's asking us to please help her. She has no idea what she's gotten herself into. My wife asks her what's going on, and they have a quick conversation, and then she hangs up.
I asked what was happening and was told that my dad's new wife, Cherry, was crying on the phone. My father is abusive, controlling, crazy even. He had been the sweetest thing since processed sugar the entire time they were "dating," which had been two weeks. As soon as the wedding was complete, he became the horror story I knew him to be.
I tell my wife we'll see what happens when they get here. According to Daddy Dearest, he'll be arriving at 10:30 p.m., which is good because I have to work at 4 a.m.
Over the next 12 hours, we get multiple phone calls. My dad told us where they were and how much further they had to go... and periodic quick calls from his wife, begging us to help her leave this horrible man.
Had I had a good relationship with my father, had I not been subjected to his abuse my entire life, I might have said she was crazy. I might have told my father what she said about him and what she thought. But, knowing just what kind of monster my father was, I wasn't doing any of that.
Eventually, the hour grows late. It's past midnight, and they still have not arrived. I have to go to sleep. I woke up at about 2:30 a.m. by my wife, who said I needed to come out and "handle" this. I have no idea what "this" is, but I go out to see my father pacing back and forth. A short Asian girl sits on the couch, wearing a white miniskirt and a bright white fur coat. I assume this is my 6-foot 4-inch tall father's trophy wife. She's maybe 4 feet tall. Maybe.
My father sees me and says, "You planned all this shit. This is what you want? You're trying to steal my wife? Fine. You can have her," and then he turns around and walks out. I'm stupefied. What?
My wife goes to the door and looks through the peephole. He's leaving. He's gone. That's it. I shake my head. He's not gone. He'll be back. He's probably going to drive somewhere, find a pay phone, and start calling, screaming, threatening, etc. If he comes back, he'll probably kick the door in. Grab her by the throat or hair and drag her out. His manic episodes are quite the entertainment. The stuff of legendary horror stories. My childhood.
I say I'm going back to sleep, and then I do. I'm out cold. 4 a.m. comes much quicker than I originally anticipated. I wake up, give my wife a kiss goodbye, and head to work. I see the bundle of fur on the couch with two little stocking-clad feet sticking out the end. I grab a blanket from the closet, drape it over her sleeping form, and head to work.
I get home much later. I work long hours, six days a week. When I got home, my wife told me that my dad dropped Cherry off and taken all her belongings. She had four suitcases in the trunk--everything she owned in life. We must get them back or go buy her new stuff. We don't have the money. My wife knows this, but she needs the basics.
My wife tells me she can stay with us as long as nobody else knows. This is because we're in a stringent area where rent is controlled by the number of people living in each unit. Well, I'm not telling anyone about her being here. My wife also tells me since we have everything like toothpaste and shampoo, there isn't much reason to go out and buy a duplicate of everything. She'll need a toothbrush. A single change of clothes for now. Some clean panties and things of that sort. I agree.
As the week progresses, Cherry settles in, getting very buddy-buddy with my wife. I play video games when I can, and my wife does, too. Cherry sits and watches and hangs out. Again, I don't have a lot of free time, but since Cherry is there, she does what we do because she has nobody else, knows nobody else, and has nothing else.
So, one day, after I get off work and come home, I play video games on the couch and have a nice relaxing time, and I end up falling asleep. Normally, my wife would wake me up and tell me to go to bed. But instead, she comes and puts a blanket over me.
I wake up to the feeling of the blanket being lifted and someone sliding under the covers, over my legs and waist. Now, my wife has been known to wake me up and give me head in the middle of the night if she's feeling particularly frisky. And in accordance, she pulls my underwear down, and I feel her mouth slide over my cock, and She begins giving me the best head I've had in a very long time. She's massaging my balls, sucking me into the back of her throat, and then coming up to gently slide her lips up and down over the sensitive band of skin under the head before deep-throating me again. I'm ready to cum when I push the covers back and attempt to pull her up my body. I don't want to cum in her mouth. I want to slide into her pussy and cum inside her.
She pushes my hands away and pulls the covers down tight. She deep-throats my cock, and that's it; I can't hold back. I'm cumming and cumming and cumming some more. She drains my balls completely, and then, without a word, she slides out from under the covers and walks away.
Come morning, I wake up and get ready for work. It's the weekend, so I don't work until about 9 a.m. My wife gets up, and she's walking around making breakfast and small talk. She asks me what time I came to bed... I say I didn't. She gives me a weird look. I point to the couch. "I fell asleep playing video games," I say. "You know this."
She says she knows this, but she assumed that when I woke up in the middle of the night, as I usually do, I would have come to bed...
Now, this is where I might be the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. Step-motherfucker? But I say, to my wife, while she's standing in the kitchen, that I loved her coming out and giving me a blow-job in the middle of the night. She turned a surprised look at me and then straight-faced told me she had done no such thing.
Well. If it wasn't her, then I must have been dreaming because there's no way that my father's wife, who has only been with us for about a week and a half, is going to come out and give me a blow-job for no reason. I mean, I've said six words to her in total. I don't even know her last name.
My wife calls Cherry out to the kitchen and asks her, point blank, if she came out of her room last night, got under the covers with me, and sucked my dick. She says no. Now, I think my wife is playing some sort of game here. A guilt game. She lives doing stupid shit like this, and I hate it. But she does. Cherry is adamant. She went to sleep and slept all night. Never got up. Never came out of her room. My wife says I must have had one heck of a dream because it wasn't her. Sure, it wasn't.
My wife is the type to set some shit up like this. Make it "seem" like it was Cherry doing the deed, to make me think it was, but when it was her. Again, years later, I know this. But back then, I didn't. I believe (now) my wife intended to try to get something to happen between Cherry and me so she could fantasize about it. The problem is that she did a much better job than anticipated.
When I get home from work that day, Cherry is "out taking a walk." I sit on the couch and begin playing video games, and my wife comes over and starts giving me a BJ while I'm playing, insisting that I keep playing the game and let her do her thing. I do as she says. I keep playing the game while she sucks me to three seconds from completion, and then she gets up and walks away. I grab her by the hand, insisting she come back and finish, but she gets mad at me. She tells me that my video games are more important than pleasing her, and she pulls out of my grasp and goes to the bedroom.
