By Daniel Quentin Steele © 2011
Author's note: Let me start with a warning to readers. This is not a complete story. It's a fragment. If you want a complete story, don't start this one. I decided to post this because I felt some readers might be curious about how the story of the Donnallys – Paul and Paula – detailed in the next to last published chapter of WWWM began. If any readers are curious, I think this opening to their story will give a more complete and well rounded picture of this couple, before their marriage went completely to hell. This takes place about a month or so before they come into contact with Bill Maitland and the Jacksonville court system.
PAUL – Tuesday afternoon. September 2005
It used to be that bad news came at night. People dying, serious accidents, husbands leaving wives or vice versa.
Paul Donnally remembered the old saying that nobody ever received good news at night later when he thought about that afternoon as he pulled into the circular driveway of their Mandarin home. It was a rambling three bedroom Spanish style single story home that had once been big enough for Paula and their son and daughter.
It had been just big enough for all of them before Ben and Patricia had grown up and graduated high school and gone off to college, Ben to the University of Florida where he was due to graduate with a Masters in Business Administration the next July and Patricia to FSU in Tallhassee where she was working toward a Masters in Education with emphasis on handicapped children.
Now it was too large and Paula and he had talked a few times about looking for a condominium, maybe at Jacksonville or St. Augustine Beach, that would be easier to maintain and more comfortable for empty-nesters.
It was especially large now that Paula was gone for a week to a real estate seminar in Miami. She had flown out on Sunday and even now on Tuesday it seemed entirely too long for Paul's taste. He could almost hear his 40-year-old wife when he sat on the couch watching television or reading a book, could smell the perfume that she sometimes wore to bed for hot sex. It had been a long time. They were on the downside of 40, he was about to celbrate his 42th birthday and the sex drive yielded to age, but he still remembered.
He was getting ready to slide out of the car when the T-Mobile cellphone he carried in his shirt pocket beeped the message that he had a message waiting. He wondered if it was Paula. It was early for her to call. She had told him this would be one of the busy seminars, every day chock full of meeting with other real estate types, lectures about how to survive in the world of falling house prices, and in the evenings she'd probably be wining and dining or being wined and dined by other agents while they tried to pick each other's brains for good contacts and sales prospects.
Paul had sighed when she told him the news. He'd been through it before. Since entering real estate on a whim in her early 30s, it had become a second religion. She ate and drank real estate and ARM mortages and all the esoterica of residential home sales. But she made a good living at it, which neatly supplemented his respectable salary as the Public Relations Manager for Duval University, a very expensive and prestigious private four year college tucked away in the port and insurance city of Jacksonville, Florida.
So he didn't expect to hear much from her, but if she had a break or a few minutes, sometimes she called him, as she said, just to remind herself what he sounded like.
He punched in the top button to access the call and waited a few seconds while scratchy static screeched out at him. There were background noises that might have been a radio or stereo playing some sort of Latin ballad or Salsa type and then through the bouncy music he began to make out words, or at least sounds.
"Ooooooooooohhhh God....that,....so good....more....deeper....uh...please....you like that Baby.....oh yes yes yes.....where....you want ...in my pussy baby...in my pussy..."
Interspersed between the words were the wet sounds of flesh colliding with flesh and Paul knew it had to be the sound of a cock entering a very wet pussy.
What the hell? Since when did they broadcast porno over telephone lines?
"ooohhhhh...yes....no...don't tease me....fuck me baby...fuuuuuuucccckkk me...." and there was a shrill feminine scream of pleasure.
As he sat there, his mouth open in amazement, he realized what had happened. It had happened before.
Sometimes a number would be entered inadvertently, by something as simple as somebody rolling over a cell phone and accidentally hitting the transmit button. He smiled, wondering what passionate couple was unaware that their frenzied fucking was going out of the electronic medium to provide a cheap thrill to a stranger sitting in his car and listening to it all.
He knew he should have shut it off, but there was an irrisistable voyeuristic impulse to listen a little longer.
There was a long drawn out sigh and then silence for moment, then the sound of movement on a bed and a little later a wet sucking sound that could never be mistaken for anything else.
"Oh, my god, Paula, nobody does it better...nobody...you know..i think you could suck the chrome of a trailer hitch with those lips...flattery will get you another hot cum, baby...just get it big and hard for me and let go...I want to drink all of you.."
For a few seconds Paul thought he might have had a sudden attack of vertigo as the world seemed to circle around his head.....What were the odds? A woman with the same name as his wife was sucking another man's cock...how the hell could that happen....
He thought of the look on his Paula's face when he told on her return about listening to another Paula give as strange man a great blow job. There would have been a time when they would get so hot talking about it that they would drag each other up to the bedroom if the kids were out. Their sex was still good and she gave the best blowjobs in the western world, but sometimes it almost felt like – she was doing it to pay him back for being away from him on long trips. A small sensation of pain ran through his insides as he realized it had been a long, long time since she had been carried away with the kind of wild, spontaneous passion he heard over the phone.
"do this for Paul?"
Paul's attention suddenly returned to the voices. Had he heard the name Paul?
"yes, but not like I do it for you...he's (slurp) happy with my 'B' game. ....he's (SLURP) not like you baby..."
"...suck it all in,baby, down to my balls, that;'s the way...jesus, I can see it bulging out of your throat,,,.how do you do that?"
"...practic,e baby, practice (laughter)"
...and you love practicing on that 10 incher don't you"
"...oh yes....was it hard to get used to sucking a big one? at first... Paul's is kind of...dinky compared to yours. I doubt he's more than 6 – 6 and a half inches and he doen'tt know what to do wth it anyway..next to you he's very vanilla - just stick it in, pump till I cum and then he gives me his load..."
