I knew Brooke's husband would get out of jail after the mandatory 24 hours, so we gathered everything she would need for a few days, and loaded it into her Lexus. I had to hand it to him; he made her a good living. Brooke didn't have to work, all she had to do was please him, be at his beck and call. She was what I call a trophy wife, someone to hang on his arm at parties. Did you ever see the movie "Enough", with Jennifer Lopez? That was the kind of life she had-none! Now, though, she had had enough, and had him by the balls. Maybe she couldn't prove adultery, but domestic violence would be easy.
I had persuaded Brooke to stay with my husband and me. We have no kids at home, and have three extra bedrooms that we never used, so there was plenty of room.
I called Jake from my cell phone and filled him in on what was going on. I left out the part about the sex. I didn't want to spring too much on him at once. A former cop himself, he understood my feelings about men hitting women. He was all for me helping Brooke, and volunteered to run out and pick up something for dinner.
"Nothing to heavy," I said. "We don't want to be too full for dessert."
He laughed, getting my message. "Never worry, I always have room for you!"
Now, Jake may be fifteen years my senior, but he has an insatiable sex drive. He would eat my pussy till I couldn't walk, if I would let him. Sometimes I would let him, but tonight I needed his cock. Maybe I was afraid of becoming a lesbian. If anyone could do that to me, Brooke could.
When we arrived at my house, Jake was nowhere to be seen. We went inside and got Brooke settled in.
"I'm afraid it's not what you are accustomed to," I began, apologetically, but was interrupted by Brooke.
"I'm not the 'society girl' you think I am. In fact, I grew up on a farm just across the state line. We weren't poor, but we were far from wealthy. Your home is nicer than any I had lived in before I met Jim. He was doing a construction project, and came into the café where I waited tables. He was so nice, handsome, and we began dating. Within a few months, we were married."
"That sounds so romantic," I said, waiting for her to say more. She wanted to talk, and I'm a good listener.
"Everything was fine, for a while. Then he began to change me. I was always comfortable in jeans and boots, but he wanted me to dress more elegantly. He started picking out my clothes, taking me to expensive shops, where these snooty bitches looked down their noses at me. He would tell them to dress me in the latest styles. It was like a fairy tale at first. Then, he started to criticize the way I talked, the way I walked, the way I ate. The only thing he didn't criticize was the way I fucked him. Then he starts screwing around. I thought it was going on, but to have him rub my face in it..."
She began to cry. "That was more than I could stand."
