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LOVING WIVES

February Sucks In 750 787 Words

February Sucks In 750 787 Words

by trytstyn
5 min read
4.2 (29600 views)
adultfiction

Standard disclaimer: if you want to complain about the hackneyed unbelievable drivel I write, lack of character development, or inflated breast sizes, be my guest.

Just know I won't care.

I sometimes enjoy reading the commentators that criticize my writing but if you're going to, remember, I already called it drivel. If you can't top that don't bother. Why people insist on displaying their own stupidity for the world to see always baffles me. Let's see the plot sucks, the characters aren't believable, I write like I didn't graduate high school (I didn't by the way), I barely know a noun from a verb, etc. Read at your own risk.

We all know the brilliant February Sucks story and the many, many, takes that have been on different endings. Here's mine, not as good as most of the others, and a lot less detailed. I wanted to keep it short close to 750 words

All the rights to this drivel, such as it is, are reserved to me and any resemblance to any other real or fictional character is purely delusion on the readers part.

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February sucks. Mine started with a bang and ended with a crash. I know that's backwards but the whole month was fucked up. Maybe you have heard of me. My name is Marc LaValliere and I used to be the starting tight end for the Smashers. Yeah that Marc LaValliere. At one point I was on top of the world and now nothing. And it all happened in February.

We had made it about two blocks when the phone rang. It was one of my guys calling. I was wondering how the husband had made it past them anyway.

"Hey dog what's up" I asked him. I had it on speaker. It was Herschel that spoke. Yup his dad had named him after Herschel Walker, but he wasn't no running back. He was built like a lineman but never made it past college ball. Him and Tiny were my backup. Tiny was another one not good enough for pro ball but even bigger than Herschel.

"Marc where you at man? Did you lay a finger on that bitch?"

"Not yet but I plan to fuck her really good. So how did that little man get past you? You never let them go by before?"

"Marc, man, listen to me. Turn the fuck around right now and get her back here right fucking now. And don't lay so much as one God damn finger on her. Her husband is waiting out front he said he would give you ten minutes then he's leaving."

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"I plan to keep her a lot longer than ten minutes" I told him, "Tell him if he's a good boy I will send her home in the morning with a smile and a stretched-out pussy."

"Man, I said get the fuck back here now. She's Jimmy Ciprioni's wife for fucks sake."

The name didn't mean nothing to me off hand. I looked at the girl beside me "your husband's Jimmy Ciprioni? What does he do?"

"He's a banker" she replied.

"So why would I care" I asked? She just smiled and shrugged. I forgot we were on speaker.

"Because he's Vinnie Ciprioni's younger brother, that's why. You just went and publicly dissed the Ciprioni family" Herschel barked at me. "I'm out of this one man. You getting laid ain't worth me getting killed. Tiny wouldn't even stick around long enough to call you."

Vinnie Ciprioni's name I knew. Vinnie's company had a finger in the concessions at the stadium. His construction company built the stadium, and he provided the concrete. He had his fingers in all the drugs, the gambling, the girls, unions, loan sharking, and just about everything else that went on in this city. OK we weren't as big as New York or Chicago but in this city Vinnie was more powerful than any of those five families they like to talk about. And I had just publicly dissed his younger brother.

I was back five minutes later. She pointed out his car to me, a black Lincoln town car. It was idling and there was someone in the front seat. I pulled up behind him, got out, and walked over to the window. He put it about halfway down.

"Hey man" I said "I didn't know who she was. I didn't lay a finger on her. I'm sorry man no disrespect was intended".

He was a funny little man, he looked like a soft little banker, but the look he gave me was like I was a bug, and he was a can of Raid. I know we players like to talk and dis and psych each other put but this little mans eyes were cold like ice.

"Take the trade" he said.

"What trade? What you mean man?"

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"They want to trade you to the Cougars. Take it" he said.

"The fucking cougars? They won one game last year. Why would I want to go to a losing team like that. And I was just signed why would they trade me"?

He just looked at me again. Those ice-cold eyes.

"Take the trade"

I had a no trade clause for the first three years of my contract.

The next day the team offered me a trade. Screw that no one was chasing me out, even Jimmy fucking Ciprioni. Let them do their worst.

Next weekend I was back at the restaurant looking for another wife to seduce. For some reason Tiny and Herchel weren't with me. The hit and run driver in the parking lot broke my leg, his second pass went over both of them. My career was over before it began but at least I had my signing bonus. Until my accountant skipped town with it.

Fucking Ciprioni's

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Give a man a fish and it will feed him for a day

Teach him how to fish and it will feed him for life

Slap it across his face and he will leave you the fuck alone

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