Psychiatrists tell us that anger and hate are destructive feelings that one needs to purge to be healthy emotionally. Maybe so, but how DO you purge righteous anger and hate? That was the question I needed to answer that years of therapy didn't help me with, but destiny did.
My name is Alan Easton. I was a fairly ordinary guy in the large High School I attended in a midsize city in the U. S. While I was told by many girls in High School that I was "real cute," and "very nice," I was shy. I didn't date all that much, although I did lose my virginity my junior year.
I was on the football team and while I had the size, strength and speed to be a starting linebacker I didn't have the dedication or the mean streak necessary, so I didn't play all that much. My football coach was miffed that he could never get the best out of me and constantly prodded "You're too easy going, Easton."
My grades were always decent, but as with football I wasn't that dedicated to my studies so I was no academic star. I did much better on standardized tests than my grades would predict, however. That only led to my teachers being perplexed as to why I didn't do better. "You're too lackadaisical," was a common refrain of my Physics teacher.
My mother had died before I got into my teens, but my older sister, Kerri, was a strong female influence, and my father was a great dad, so I had a good family life. Even though Kerri was only average size for a woman, if toughness was bulk she would be four hundred pounds – she wasn't, and isn't, intimidated by anything. My father had part ownership interest in, and worked as the service manager of, a car dealership so we were always in decent financial shape.
Like the majority of kids in my class I had planned to go to college after High School. However, my senior year my plans changed when Janet Hatfield either bedazzled me, or sunk her claws into me, depending upon how one viewed her.
Janet was the sexiest female in my High School class. While her dress and hairdo were normally slutty she had God-given looks that any male would drool over. While the rest of her family might correctly be described as "trailer trash," she had obviously risen above her surroundings and somehow managed to get decent clothes and talk without sounding like a hick or a moron. In fact though not academic she was highly intelligent, as well as manipulative, devious, and driven.
Although Janet had always been pleasant to me since I first knew her in seventh grade, I never considered her attainable, nor did I ever notice a romantic or sexual interest by her in me. That changed right after football ended my senior year when she became very attentive.
At first I was taken aback by her obvious pursuit of me, but being a red-blooded male my stiff cock whenever she was around caused me to ask her out. After a couple of double dates to the movies, and after attending a school dance and outing together, she really came on to me.
Janet had subtly inquired about my sister's and father's schedules, and when she found out that my sister was away at college and my father worked until 6:30, she invited herself over to my house after school one Wednesday. The ostensible reason was for me to help her with her math homework. In fact the only thing she wanted to study was anatomy.
While before that Wednesday I had had a make-out session with Janet where I got to feel her up, we hadn't done anything really serious. However, within fifteen minutes of after we got into my house we were both naked, I was lying on my back in the living room, and she was riding me like an award-winning cowgirl.
I found out that day what continued to be Janet's most outstanding quality – she could fuck! If fucking were translated into academic aptitude test scores she would be considered a genius.
I was stunned and overwhelmed when she mouthed my cock so diligently and powerfully that had it been a trailer hitch the chrome would have been sucked off. When she impaled her snug pussy on my impossibly hard cock just before I was about to cum in her mouth she immediately started bucking and twisting, while simultaneously undulating her pc muscles. After I almost passed out from the mammoth load I jettisoned into Janet, I was hers.
In addition to being an incomparable fucker she also had a high libido. After the first time we fucked almost every school day after that, as long as no one was home at my house. Also, we usually found a friend's house – or when the weather got nice a secluded outdoor area – to fuck at least once each weekend. She gave, and taught me how to give, great oral, and likely had memorized the kama sutra if the positions she contorted our bodies into were any indication.
The rest of the school year I was as happy as a pig in shit. My grades actually improved because my attitude on life improved. Even my father noticed, and complemented me on, my upbeat persona.
After Janet and I had fucked about two months she made it clear that she anticipated a long term commitment from me. Not ever shy about saying what she wanted, she expected us to get married after High School and to start a family a few years after that. Janet was obsessed with ultimately becoming a good mother. She wanted to put her dysfunctional family in the rear view mirror and give her kids the time, devotion, and love that she had always been missing.
My plans about going to college changed. Despite contrary advice from my sister Kerri, my father, and a number of my friends, I was determined to start a job right out of High School to support us. "You're thinking with your little head, not your big one," was a common refrain by my family and friends but since it was absolutely true it fell on deaf ears.
A month before the wedding my best friend said/asked: "How do you think she got so good at sex, and do you think she's going to be satisfied with just you once you're married? I heard that she got that two grand for your wedding by entertaining an entire bachelor party." Not only didn't his words cause me to think, it got him knocked on the ground after I punched him in the mouth. I had fallen in love with Janet, so I didn't believe anything bad about her, and nothing was going to change my mind.
Janet's trailer trash family obviously couldn't pay for the wedding, but with money that she and I got from part-time jobs, my dad's help, and the $2,000 "windfall" that my friend had mentioned that Janet allegedly got from some mysterious extended family member, we had a small but pleasant ceremony and unpretentious reception.
I thought that I had seen all that Janet had to offer before the honeymoon. Not even close. During our five day honeymoon she fucked me once just by squeezing and releasing her pussy; I did no stroking at all. She had me fuck her ass; we used a butt plug in her several times when I fucked her pussy; and she taught me the Sicilian Corkscrew.
I started work, at the car dealership my dad had part interest in, the day that we got back from our fuck-fest masquerading as a honeymoon, and Janet started working at a bank.
For two years things seemed to go well. Our sex life was certainly good, perhaps even better than our pre-honeymoon experiences. Janet seemed happy, but not content. She started making more and more comments about material things that she would love to have, but that our relatively meager salaries could not afford. She often questioned me about whether my father, who she considered to be wealthy because of his part ownership in the car dealership, could help us more.
I asked Janet about starting a family but she was adamant that until we were in an excellent financial situation she wasn't going to. She had every intention of quitting work and doting on her children full time when we had them.
We had been married almost two years when disaster struck me. My father died of a heart attack at work. I was working as a salesman in the used car lot when I heard the commotion in the service area. I arrived in time to see my father draw his last breath just before the paramedics arrived.
I was devastated. Since my mother died he was my rock. Kerri had just finished college a month before and was living at home while looking for a job. She took dad's death hard too, but she is a much stronger person than I am.
Janet was supportive during the lead up to the funeral and for a few days afterward. She didn't shed tears like Kerri and I did, but was at my side. Once the dust had settled, though, she started asking more and more about my dad's will and when it would be probated. That upset me and I told her so, but she still kept at it.
About two weeks after my father died Janet, Kerri, me, and an Aunt and Uncle from out of town, went to the reading of the will. I think that we were all surprised that dad's ownership in the dealership was only three percent, and that he had a second mortgage on the house. He obviously had used the mortgage money to purchase his interest in the dealership. Ultimately it meant that once his interest was sold to the majority owner, at a price we were not in a position to bargain over, and the mortgages on the house paid off, Kerri and I would each get on the order of $10,000.
Although Janet didn't say anything, I could tell that steam was rising from her ears. That ended her compassion and support. After that she was a different woman.
I tried my best to re-kindle our relationship, but Janet was cold and uncaring. Sex became infrequent and when we had it she douched immediately afterward, something she had never done before. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to get cut off completely. When we did have sex she was still the consummate fucker, always leaving me with a sore dick, blistered tongue, and warm feeling.
Three months after the reading of the will I came home to our rented apartment to find no Janet but a note above a stack of papers.
"Hey Alan:
I want to have kids but you can't support them the way I want. I'm moving on to greener pastures. I took more than half the money out of our pathetic bank account since I'm leaving you all the furniture. Don't try to contact me – call my attorney if you want anything. His name is on the divorce papers below this note.
Good luck, Janet."
Yeah, that was what was below the note. A stack of papers asking for a divorce based upon irreconcilable differences. I guess that meant that I wasn't the potential gravy train that she thought, and therefore expendable. I was just the first step out of her trailer trash life.
I tried to get in touch with her but her lawyer insisted that she had no interest in talking with me. I was heartbroken since I really had loved the bitch. How could I have not seen that she never loved me, though?
Fortunately, Kerri still lived in town and had a good job. Since I could no longer afford the apartment without Janet's income I sold the furniture and moved in with her for the short term.
Only Kerri kept me from being completely morose as I merely went through the motions of life for the next six weeks. Then I found out from some of my friends that Janet was now living with a wealthy real estate developer and was wearing maternity clothes. Now I was really pissed and called her lawyer again and demanded to see Janet.
"Actually, Mr. Easton, I was going to call you," Janet's attorney told me. "Janet is pregnant and will be amending her petition for divorce to request child support!"
