Reunion: Aftermath
I would like to thank Tyler Blair for giving me permission to write this sequel to his story, "
Reunion.
" In that story, a cheating wife details the way she publicly humiliated and cuckolded her husband at a high school reunion. This short sequel is the husband's response.
I would also like to thank those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.
And now, the disclaimers:
For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper... In addition:
Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
...
I read the letter left on the kitchen table by my soon-to-be ex-wife, Julia, for the fifth time and shook my head. She left this letter for me the day after that fateful reunion where she publicly humiliated and cuckolded me with that son-of-a-bitch, Jules Connor.
I hadn't seen her very much since that reunion for a few reasons. First off, she decided she needed another couple of trysts with Connor, despite my warnings. Second, both of us work. But the most important reason is that for a bit more than a week, she's been in the hospital. She was taken there one day after she collapsed at work.
They did what they could, but were unable to figure out what was going on with her. I had seen her symptoms before and offered my suggestions to the hospital staff, but they dismissed my suggestions. I only work as a biomedical researcher, after all.
So they continued running tests and scratching their heads. By the time they figured out that Michael Conroy -- that's me, by the way -- was onto something, it was too late and there was too much damage to Julia's system. Her body was starting to shut down and there was nothing they could do except try to keep her comfortable.
On one hand, I hated to see what was happening to her, but on the other hand, I was glad she was out of the house. At least my nostrils wouldn't be constantly assaulted by the stench of her cheating. I picked up the letter Julie left me and scanned it one more time.
I needed to respond to her, and I needed to do it soon. It wasn't unusual for her to communicate with me with long, steamy letters, and I always enjoyed reading her missives. Her meticulous, flowery cursive writing was a joy to read and her letters always got me excited.
But this letter -- not so much. For starters, she had misread so many things that fateful night. That really didn't surprise me, though, given how it all happened. I grabbed another cup of coffee, sat down with pen and paper, and began writing:
Julia,
I have received and read your letter of December 1, and I must say I am very disappointed in you. For many reasons.
Let me start by saying I was happy and proud to call you my wife. After all, I was married to a gorgeous woman with a body that can only be described as a walking wet dream. Yes, you were a bit slutty that night, but to be honest, I was okay with it at the time. I loved looking at you, admiring your curves and yes, I admit I liked it when the rest of the world knew that you were my woman.
Better yet, I knew that I was the man who would take you home, undress you and make sweet love to you. I'll never forget what we had and shared for five wonderful years, two of those as husband and wife. In that time, you were the most loving, thoughtful, supportive, and yes, faithful, woman I had ever known in my entire life. You were my reason for existing.
I suppose I felt as though I had a right to be proud. A wonderful wife, a good home, a great job, accolades from my peers -- I had it all. And I simply wanted to show it off just a bit.
You are correct that Jules Connor was the biggest bully I had ever known, and yes, he taunted me mercilessly since the fourth grade. That's why I took up martial arts in my senior year of high school. I continued even through my time as a medic in the Army.
In fact, I could have wiped the floor with Jules, but unfortunately, several of his friends, a couple of whom happened to be local police officers, were there to ensure I didn't. Had he taken a swing at me, though, things might've ended a bit differently and we wouldn't be in this situation.
I saw how you reacted to his taunts and I noticed the way you flirted back. I also saw the way your skin began to flush as he put the moves on you. I watched the way the two of you danced and I knew something was wrong.
Before you walked out the door with him, I tried to change your mind. You claimed in your letter that I never said anything, but that's false and you know it. Perhaps you just chose to ignore me. The truth is, I warned you that if you went with him you would regret it for the rest of your life. You sneered at me as you told me in no uncertain terms that it was your body and you would do what you wanted.
Yes, you chose him over me that night. And to paraphrase an old movie, you chose... poorly. I'm sure you realize that now.
I wondered what could make you act the way you did that night. I had never seen such behavior from you before, and I wondered if maybe old Jules had managed to invent some kind of "slut ray" to use against you.
Before we left, I managed to get a couple of the glasses from which you drank. As you may recall, those glasses contained drinks Jules and his friends brought to you. I had them tested and guess what? They were laced with all kinds of drugs -- Ecstasy, you name it.
That's right, Jules and his buddies drugged you that night. And I suspect he drugged you the next time you met. But that's neither here nor there since the real damage was done the first time he ejaculated inside you. Let me explain.
You see, Jules and I served in the same unit in the Army after high school. Yes, he tried bullying me there as well, and even took a swing at me once, much to his regret. After I bounced his stupid face off the concrete sidewalk a couple times like a basketball, he left me alone for the most part, but we never really got along well.
Our unit was sent on a mission to deliver humanitarian aid to a third-world island nation that had been ravaged by a hurricane. As a medic, I was busy tending to the injured while Jules' unit drove supplies to various locations on the island.
One day, Jules reported to the infirmary complaining about pain in his groin, especially when he urinated. It didn't take a highly-trained medical degree to know he had picked up a sexually-transmitted disease. I took all the tests and cultures and gave him the usual treatment, which included a warning to abstain from sex.
The tests came back positive, but the doctor and I were both stunned to see that the STD he picked up was quite different from anything either of us had ever seen before. It was more aggressive and resistant to the usual treatment. Under the microscope, it looked very much like a standard strain of gonorrhea, but it was quite different.
Jules continued to suffer from several symptoms -- headache, fever, pain in the groin, discharge, delirium, joint pain, you name it. A lot like some of your symptoms. It wasn't very pretty. He nearly died a couple times. I stayed with him and did everything I could to ease his suffering. In fact, I saved his life. We prescribed everything possible to treat the symptoms.
Eventually, his symptoms passed. But subsequent tests showed the bacteria that caused the infection was still inside him -- it had just gone dormant. The doctor worked up a complex set of orders and directions and Jules was sent back to the States where he would be constantly monitored by the CDC. Before he was put on the transport to the aircraft that would take him away, however, he told me in no uncertain terms he would get back at me for ruining his military career.
In short, he blamed me for his poor judgment and his actions. I believe what he did to you that night and the subsequent nights were a result of that threat. I never heard about Jules after that. I finished my tour in the military, went to college where I met you, and the rest, as they say, is history.
So yes, I was stunned when I saw him at the reunion. I was even more stunned when I saw your reaction to him. Yes, I was heartbroken when I watched him fuck you the way he did. Worse yet, I was unable to do anything about it. His buddies, a couple of whom happened to be armed at the time, made sure of that.
There was a reason I didn't say anything or take any action while he had his way with you. You see, one of his buddies had the muzzle of a.38 caliber pistol jammed in my side out of everyone's view. You didn't know that at the time, though, did you? Something tells me you probably wouldn't have cared even if you did.
When you stumbled back into the venue, I couldn't help but see the evidence of what he had done -- it was running down your leg and matted in your hair. I'm sure you didn't realize it that night, but the first time he ejaculated inside you, he killed you. Your body just didn't know it at the time.
You claimed that you love me, but your actions that night told a different story. Did you notice that from that moment on, I never once touched you? Did it dawn on you that I always wore latex gloves when you were in the house? Did you ever wonder about that?
And do you remember I urged you to see a doctor immediately afterward? Do you remember me telling you that you needed to get tested when you started feeling poorly? Do you remember your reaction? You waved me off, saying it was just a UTI and would pass.
But it didn't pass, did it? In fact, your symptoms got worse with each passing day. Instead of getting tested and seeing a doctor as I suggested, you decided to visit Jules since, as you put it, I wouldn't perform my husbandly duties. I told you why I wouldn't touch your diseased body, but you just dismissed my concerns, laughing in my face.
I get the impression you're not laughing now, though, are you? Remember when you asked me if I was going to file for divorce? I told you at the time I wouldn't. You laughed and said it was because I was a beta wimp and a cuckold like Jules said. The truth is, I knew you wouldn't survive long enough to see any divorce become final.
