My preamble. Today is a shitty day. Perfect to write a story of angst and gut wrenching emotions.
Enjoy, or don't.
I write because I want to trigger emotions real, imagined or in sympathy for my characters.
Comments welcome. I love constructive criticisms, and the anonymous hate mail. Those make me laugh. Especially the ones that can't spell or use proper grammar. I can't either but at least I try to entertain.
So it goes.
I think everyone knows the feeling. it's the vicious sucker gut punch that has you struggling to keep from puking and shitting yourself at the same time. Breathing is impossible and the world is slanted so bad standing is nearly impossible.
I felt it before when my parents got killed in a traffic accident. I needed friends to help keep me balanced and together.
I was alone this time. I still held the phone in my somewhat catatonic state.
Puzzle pieces started falling into place. One after another after another. I slid to the floor as the weight of realisation hit me.
Julie had told me she was heading out of state for a long overdue visit with Marjorie. Marjorie was a widowed former roommate from college days she would visit every year or two, and talk to endlessly on the phone or facebook.
What caused my conundrum was that Majorie had just phoned to catch up with Julie. When I had replied "I thought she was coming up to see you this weekend"
Marjorie's ability to cover was significantly lacking believability. "Oh, shit. Uh, That's, uh, That's why I'm calling. to see where she is. Do you know?"
My reply indicated I was more together than I felt. "Marge, It's Sunday morning. she was supposed to be there on Friday for supper."That got a response. "Fuck" she mumbled. "I'll call you back" she hastily exited the call.
That was the punch that winded me. Julie had lied. I had a text Friday with lots of heart emojis that she arrived safely and professing undying love.
The next puzzle piece to fall into place was when I thought about her telling me about this trip, I was not invited, due to a need to have some female time. Normally we both went to visit Marjorie. She hated the nickname Marge by the way. Julie planned alone time. Away from me, and with someone else.
The next piece to fit in place was Julie's clothing had begun to get a little more inciting about 6 months ago. Just after the spring break from her teaching. She was off for two weeks, I had to work. She spent the entire time shopping for nice flirty clothes and sexy underwear. I cursed myself for being love blind.
At the time I hadn't minded, I thought I was the recipient of the gift of my sexy Julie. I do remember some benefits, actually.
That was my next puzzle piece to click. The benefits included her trying to deep throat me, and for the first time ever, anal. I even remembered that for the first time she actually mentioned a threesome with another woman. Before she had commented on not having a lezzie bone in her body. Maybe two guys then, I countered. She laughed at that suggestion, shaking her head.
The next piece to drop into place was last summer. As a teacher she had a few commitments for her time. I worked, she played. She was working out at the gym, playing slowpitch, taking the kids on day hikes or going on hikes with friends.
Another piece fell in place. None of her regular girlfriends did any hiking. Who had she been going with?
Over the course of the summer I had noticed and we had discussions about me coming home to dinner with the kids and her hitting the door on her way out somewhere three or four times a week. Click, another piece.
"I just want to go out and have some fun, and you're too tired." she had replied many times.
Those discussions had hurt, but she was right. I worked my ass off every day building houses, offices, warehouses. I had to hustle and be the best or I would never make ends meet. Teachers don't make a lot and two kids and a mortgage are expensive.
The next piece slid into place as I wondered at our sex life. Since August it had almost disappeared. I thought it was me, but maybe it was her. I remember getting turned down a few times on a Saturday night when she got home.
I had an "Oh Fuuuuck" puzzle piece slide into place with a time she had come home tipsy and in a naughty mood. She had gone out on a Friday with some teachers to celebrate the new class year. She came home late, giggling, and flirting.
Her apology included a blow job, Climbing up and then mounting me on the couch and fucking me until I came in her. Then she cleaned me off with her mouth. I thought she was way wetter than I had ever known her to get. She never could stand the taste of cum, and thought tasting herself was gross. When I mentioned that on our way to bed, she distracted me with a round two.
The puzzle piece was rattling around, had I had sloppy seconds or thirds maybe?
I was just thinking I was glad I hadn't gone down on her as was out usual foreplay when the next piece hit and I lost my breakfast all over the floor.
A few weeks ago she had come home quite late from an intense workout. She had a muscle cramp in her leg. She'd had a few drinks after the workout with friends. I helped her relax with a massage that led to a blow job, then sixty nine, and then a serious round of her wanting me to pound her pussy into oblivion. I remembered she tasted different, was more bitter, salty but like day old popcorn and had put it down to sweat, but it had a different taste. I remembered she was apprehensive of me going down on her and then she was into how dirty a girl she was. I puked again.
My daughter came in to see me. "What's wrong Daddy?" Her brother came to check on me too.
"It's something I ate, It will be ok." I said, knowing it wasn't going to ever be ok again.
I cleaned up and changed clothes. I took the kids to a friend's house and gave a lame excuse. Monday was a holiday, so I said they'd get picked up around noon.
The next revelation was that I hadn't heard anything from Julie since Friday. She usually checked in once or twice. With Marge's slip up I expected Julie to get an urgent call. I expected some form of lame excuse for where she was.
Maybe that was a pre-curser for where she was at. If she was busted, she may as well fuck her brains out and enjoy the ride. Consequences be dammed.
The gut punch of life hit me when I looked at what my options were. I worked for an hourly wage, trying to pay down our debt and mortgage. There was our reserve in the bank. all four thousand of it. We had around $4000 in credit left on our shared credit card before it got maxed out.
Mothers get babies, even when they are sluts. Mothers got to keep the house typically and dad's had to help pay for dipping their wick and having kids. From a work friend's experience I knew that left him with next to nothing but his dignity in tatters.
Julie would get our house if she wanted it. I'd be stuck paying for some of the mortgage, child support and probably some alimony. I'd have to work even harder if I wanted any kind of life.
If I had no life now, what would I have then? I felt walls closing in on me. Suffocating me. I needed a drink.
I am not a drinker. I am a fumbling fool after four drinks. I had five. Some were doubles.
I dumped Julie's jewellery into a box. I tossed all her sexy underwear in the fireplace. Her sexy dresses went there too.
A word of advice. Clothing smells god awful when it burns. The residue sticks to everything and drips into nasty places. The smoke is black and discolours white walls above the fireplace and the ceiling. Then the smoke detectors go off. Don't do it.
