No

There is no sex in this story. This is a work of pure fiction. It isn't real.

I am not a lawyer, and I am sure that there are a lot of legal mistakes in here. If you are one of those legal eagles that enjoy pointing out legal mistakes, fuck off. Yes, there are undoubtedly parts that require the temporary suspension of belief. Chill out and just enjoy the story.

I despise the divorce laws in this country. The man always gets screwed regardless. I just wanted to write something where the faithful husband stood up for himself and told the court to FUCK OFF!

"I am awarding Wanda Nielson use of the house until the children graduate from high school. Mr. Nielson will continue to make all mortgage and utility payments on the house. She will also receive half the value of the business her husband owns. Ms. Nielson will keep her vehicle, and Mr. Nielson will continue the payments for said vehicle. I am also awarding Mrs. Nielson 60% of all assets, including all bank accounts, investments, and retirement accounts.

"Furthermore, I am awarding primary custody of the children to Mrs. Nielson. Visitation will follow the standard protocols of Mr. Nielson having two consecutive weeks during the summer and every other weekend. Child support will be $750 per month, per child, for a total of $1,500 per month. Since Mrs. Nielson has not worked outside of the home for the last 5-years, I am also adding maintenance for Mrs. Nielson in the amount of $2,000 per month. The divorce will be final in 90-days unless Mr. Nielson revokes the petition."

With that, the 'Honorable' Judge Marie Matthews banged her gavel to end the proceedings. She was just beginning to stand when I uttered the single word that led to changes that would dominate the next several months of my life.

"NO!"

Judge Matthews froze in mid stance. Her head swiveled so fast to look at me that I'm surprised her neck didn't snap off. She had a look of disbelief on her face that was quite startling. It was as if she simply couldn't believe that someone had the audacity to state that word in her presence. Slowly, she reversed her movements and came back to rest in her chair. As she was moving, her features changed from shock to abject fury. Once she had regained her former position, the frosty glare she aimed at me would easily have frozen water on the surface of the sun. To say that she was pissed would be a massive understatement.

"Excuse me?" She challenged.

"I'm not sure what is difficult to understand. Are confused with the 'N' or the 'O'? If that word is so difficult for you to understand, I would gladly give you a definition of it." I replied. I'm not stupid; I know full well what is about to happen. The thing is, I really don't care. I had actually planned for this. The next few minutes were going to be extremely enjoyable for me.

"I will give you one minute to apologize, or I will cite you for Contempt of Court."

"Well, at least you will have given one correct ruling today, then. I have nothing but contempt for this railroad you are running here." I spoke. My lawyer was whispering harshly in my ear as he began fumbling through his briefcase. I wondered if he was searching for something to gag me with.

"In that case, let's see how much contempt you have after spending 30-days in jail." She sneered as she banged her gavel again.

"Wow. I didn't realize that we had been transported to Australia. We must have been though, because of all the kangaroos in here." My lawyer was really becoming distracting as he was almost yelling at me to shut up and trying to put his hand over my mouth.

"60-days! Care to try for more?"

"You know, your dishonor, I truly believe that if you got laid every once in a while, you wouldn't be such a bitch. That being said, why don't you take this," I held up my right hand with the middle finger extended. "and shove it up your dried-up cunt, while this," extending my left hand similarly to my right, "goes up your constipated asshole. Then you can ride them to an orgasm that might actually make you less of the man-hating psychotic cunt you are. The way I see it, you are in more dire need of a cock than any woman in history."

HO. LEE. FUK. I really thought that someone would be calling 911 about that time. I figure one of two things were about to happen; either she was about to have a stroke, or her head was going to explode. I was actually surprised that the smoke coming out of her ears wasn't visible. I didn't think that it was even possible for someone's face to turn that shade of red. Death rays were being shot into me from her eyes. Yes, Virginia, she was P.I.S.S.E.D!!!!!

"90-days!" I swear, her voice was actually satanic.

Fortunately for my lawyer, that's when the bailiffs took hold of me. He had such a woeful look on his face that I felt sorry for him. Everyone in the courtroom was shocked when I simply couldn't hold it in any longer and began laughing hysterically. That probably explains the visits by the psychologists I had in lock-up over the next couple of weeks. The letter from my lawyer's law firm the next day stating that they were dropping me as a client was not a surprise.

So, you are probably wondering what all that was about. Perhaps a little background is in order. My name is Michael Nielson. I'm currently 31-years old. I was born to a very nice middle-class couple in the Heartland of America. I was raised on traditional values where there was a strong sense of right and wrong. You respected those that deserved respect. You didn't cheat. When you gave your word, it meant something. Work hard, be generous with what you have, and live up to your values. 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' Of course, most people never think about the flip side to that. 'Do unto others as they have done unto you.' The Christian thing to do is to 'Turn the other cheek'. Unfortunately, I have never been good at that.

I've always had what has been described as an extreme stubborn streak. Combine that with my sense of justice....... Well, it sometimes got kind of ugly. When I made up my mind that someone had done me wrong and set a course of action to deal with it, nothing could dissuade me from my path.

There was one time in high school when I was going out with Cheryl Haskins. We had been going out for a couple of months by this time. We had an argument about something that I don't even remember what it was about. Anyway, words were said and we 'broke up'. I put that in quotes because it was kind of understood that it was only temporary, and we would apologize to each other a couple of days later and get back together. It wasn't the first time that it happened. We would just use the weekend to cool off and make-up on Monday. Unfortunately, I happened to be walking past the theater Saturday evening and saw my cousin Harold escorting Cheryl into the theater. Two things here; Harold and I were more like brothers than cousins. We were the same age and had been practically inseparable for as long as I can remember. His family lived on the same block as me, and we grew up together. Second, I knew that he also liked Cheryl.

He knew that we had broken up, but he also knew that we would probably get back together after the weekend. Buddies simply don't do that to each other. From that moment on, he was dead to me. When Cheryl tried to talk to me on Monday, I simply refused to even acknowledge her presence. At church on Sunday, Harold came up to me and tried to talk. I simply stared at him without saying a word. When he finished talking, I simply turned around and walked away. His family came over for Sunday dinner. I ignored him. He tried to play video games with me, I simply stopped playing and went to my room. Our parents tried several times to get me to talk to him, but I refused every time. Even a year later after I actually stole his girlfriend from him, I still refused to have anything to do with him. Oh, I did kick his ass when he confronted me about stealing his girlfriend, but that was it. He sent me an invitation to his wedding years later. I ignored it. When I married Wanda, every member of my extended family got an invitation -- except him.

OK, so I'm a bit of an asshole and hold a grudge. The thing is, when someone does me wrong, I don't forgive unless it was an honest mistake. What Harold and Cheryl did was done on purpose. Right now, a lot of you are thinking that I'm an asshole. If that's the case, let me piss off you snowflakes a bit more. I firmly believe that you shouldn't do the crime if you can't do the time. If you are stupid and fuck-up, you should fully suffer the consequences of your actions. If you drive drunk and get caught, expect to lose your license for a while, pay higher insurance, and perform community service or whatever else is involved. If your job depends on you driving, you lose your job. I call that a Stupid Tax. If a girl CHOSES to spread her legs without protection and ends up pregnant at 18-years old, her Stupid Tax is being called 'Mommy' for the next 18-years. If a guy CHOSES to bump bellies with his prom date and knocks her up, he should be required to man up and take care of the kid he was half responsible for creating. Choices have consequences. It's called Personal Responsibility. I refuse to have to pay for someone else's idiocy.

So, I worked hard through high school and got pretty good grades. I got some nice scholarships and went to college. I did OK with the ladies and still kept my grades up. I was always on the better-looking side, and I worked to maintain my health. Yeah, I had gotten into more than my fair share of fights in high school because of my personal beliefs. I won more than I lost. Still, I was in good physical shape, and it seemed that the women found me attractive enough. I graduated with an economics degree and an accounting minor. I went on to get my MBA, then got a decent job at a large company making really good money. Being single with not a lot of bills to pay, I began playing the stock market. I found I kind of had a knack for that and made out rather well.

I had been working for a few months when I met Wanda at a party. We hit it off well, and I asked her out on a date. She accepted, and it went from there. I have to say, she was beautiful. I kind of laugh at that. Seriously, how many guys ever say that their girlfriend is butt-ugly? Sure, she may be ugly to someone else, but to them, she is beautiful. Anyway, I can say that Wanda is beautiful because she always attracts stares whenever we are out, and every one of my friends has commented on how they will try to move in if we ever break up. Even some of my lesbian friends have commented on trying to turn her if she becomes available.

I eventually asked, she accepted, and we got married. I should probably mention that Wanda did go to college. I like to joke that she went for her Mrs. degree. She didn't get that, but she did graduate with a degree in Art History, which qualified her for her job as a barista at Starbucks. For those who are confused, an Mrs. degree signifies a girl that goes to college so she can put off adulting for a few years and graduate with a husband to take care of them for the rest of their lives. Yes, I'm an arrogant prick. Fuck off.

So, we settled into marital bliss. She quit her job a week before the wedding and settled into becoming Suzie Homemaker. Our sex life was great, and we bought a nice three- bedroom house. I was doing well at my job, as well as raking in some nice money playing the stock market. We weren't really living extravagantly, so we were able to put aside quite a bit of cash. All my bonuses went into our investments, along with maxing out my Roth contributions. I had a goal of retiring before I was 40 and enjoying the hell out of life. I was damn good at what I did, and my employer rewarded me with hefty bonuses and promotions. I was on the fast-track up the corporate ladder.

A few years after our marriage, I came home from work one Friday evening to find Wanda dressed to the nines. She had a huge smile on her face as well.

"Hurry up and get showered and changed. We're going out to celebrate tonight -- DADDY."

HOLY SHIT! Did she just say what I thought she said? I was shocked. We had been trying for a few months now, so it wasn't like this just came out of the blue. Still, it was a surprise when she said that it finally happened. I took her in my arms and swung her around as I planted kisses all over her face. Figuring that we would be muting our celebrations because of her pregnancy and then the baby for a while, we lit up the town that night.

The next several months consisted of joyous times and preparing for the new life that we were bringing into the world. We got another shock a couple months later -- TWINS! There were two little girls in there. I couldn't wait until I could start spoiling them and having two little 'Daddy's Girls' wrapping me around their fingers. I was on top of the world.

The day finally came. We rushed to the hospital, and our two little girls were born a few hours later. They were beautiful, healthy, and had all their fingers and toes. Being twins, they had to stay in the hospital a couple days longer than normal, but everything turned out fine. When we took them home, both families were there to greet us. Everyone was happy. I noticed my mom staring at them almost constantly. I think she was so happy because I finally gave her the grandchildren she had been wanting.

So, life had changed for us. I decided that working for the big company was keeping me away from my family too much. I had a shit-pot full of money available, so I decided to form my own company. I was doing pretty well investing and playing the market, so I decided to get the necessary licenses and open my own investment firm. I had already been helping a few of my friends and relatives, so I talked to them about becoming official clients. That started things moving. Once I opened, I had several former co-workers move their portfolios over to me as well. Withing a year, I had a decent client list, and several of them were discussing with their friends about moving over to me as well.

When you're on top of the world, the only direction you can go is down. It was the girl's second birthday party. We turned it into a full-on production. Sure, they would never remember it, but it was a celebration. They would be able to watch the videos when they were older and enjoy it then. All the family from both sides were there. We were all having a phenomenal time -- until....

I was just about to come out of the bedroom after using the ensuite bathroom. The hall bathroom had been in use. Just before I was about to get to the door, I heard my mom talking to her sister in the hallway.

"I just can't figure out where those blue eyes came from." Mom said.

"Have you asked Michael about it?" My aunt asked.

"Oh God, no. I can't even imagine what would happen if he found out that they weren't his. He's so happy, that would probably kill him."

I couldn't listen to the rest. I quietly retraced my steps back to the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I had to think. They had to be mine. Surely someone in our families had blue eyes. My eyes were kind of a mud brown. Wanda's were more hazel. I thought. I went through a mental picture of everyone on all my relatives. The only one I could think of that didn't have brown eyes was my cousin Mary. Her eyes were green, but that came from her father's side, and he wasn't a blood relative. I then began thinking about Wanda's family. I couldn't think of anyone on her side with blue eyes.

After a while, I figured that I needed to calm dawn and rejoin the festivities before I was missed for too long. I somehow managed to fight down my feelings, put on a happy face and return to the party. It was hell for the rest of the day. I did manage to act like everyone expected, but I was mentally making some plans on what I was going to do later. Eventually things died down, and everyone left. Putting the girls to bed that night, I examined their features closely. Several features I could see from Wanda. Others, I didn't recognize. I found none that I could definitely say were from me.

The next day, I was on my computer while Wanda took a nap with the girls. I ordered a few supplies to be delivered to my office. I used a company credit card so Wanda wouldn't see the invoice. I also did some research on local PI firms. The suspicion that Wanda had cheated on me almost three years ago was becoming overpowering. If she did cheat on me then, was she still cheating on me? I needed proof if she was.

A few days later, the items I ordered arrived. I had also met with and hired a company called Pro Investigations. I gave them all of the info on Wanda's cell phone, tablet, and laptop that they needed to hack in. I had also began making some financial moves as well. If she wasn't cheating and the girls actually were mine, these moves wouldn't really make any difference; however, if what I thought was true, it would make all that money out of her reach. I'll be damned if I was going to pay for her to slut around, and I damned sure wasn't going to pay for someone else's kids. Sure, the girls are innocent victims here, but so am I. She wants to fuck around and get knocked up by someone else? Let them pay for it. Nothing was set yet, but I was just waiting on the proof.

It was two weeks later. I got the letter at the office. I had closed and locked my door before opening it. I cried for an hour when I found out that they were not mine. Deep down, I had already known that, but I had been hoping that I was wrong. My PI met with me the next day and gave me all the proof he had gotten. Her personal trainer at the gym was blonde haired and blue eyed. She was still seeing him a couple days a week. She even took the girls to his apartment with her so he could interact with his daughters. Yeah, the audio confirmed that they both knew who the real sperm donor was.

I had an appointment with a divorce lawyer the next afternoon. I'm not stupid. I already figured that the law was going to tie me to a table and rape my ass without the benefit of lube. He gave me his advice, and I soundly rejected it. He explained how the law worked. I explained how I worked. He told me that it wasn't about being fair, it was about taking care of the kids. I agreed, she and her lover could take care of the kids without me or my money. I gave him my requirements and left. I think he was beginning to think that he probably should have rejected me as a client then. Little did he know.

I had told him to prepare the documents but hold them until I called and let him know I was ready to file. I may have given him the mistaken impression that I was going to try and work things out. OK, OK, I fucking lied through my teeth about that.

It took two months. Everything was completed, and she hadn't even gotten the slightest whiff of a problem. Thank God for that Drama class I took as my art elective during my Junior year. I had finally gotten to the point where I had (at least on paper) zero net income and zero assets, well, except the house and a beat-up Chevy pickup. The house still had a heavy mortgage on it. We had refinanced and took out the equity for some upgrades, so selling it probably wouldn't even cover the brokerage fees. My Lexus was actually owned by the company, not me personally. I had about $10,000 in cash hidden away to live on for the next couple of months.

Wanda was really surprised when my cousin Howard and his wife Cheryl showed up that weekend. I explained that Howard and Cheryl had come to see me in my office a couple weeks ago. After some serious discussions, they acknowledged that what they had done was wrong. They sincerely apologized, and I decided that it was time to let things go.