I had originally written The Race merely to try writing some erotica, I'm kind of new to that style of writing. It had been intended purely as a means to try flexing a little naughty writing muscle and see how and what I could write. Basically, just starting off small and simple. Which is why it ended the way it did, and was as short as it was. It wasn't meant to be a nuanced, original, or particularly in-depth read.
After submitting it, I was kind of happy with it, but thought that I could probably write a follow up. So here it is.
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Geoff Greenfield heard his phone go off, again. Absently he picked it up and accepted the call, but said nothing.
"Geoff, I'm..."
He ended the call.
A minute later, the phone started ringing once more. Again he silently answered.
"Geoff."
He ended the call.
How many had that been? Fifteen, Twenty? He'd lost count after ten.
This time, it was a text message that set his phone off. He glanced at it, to make sure it wasn't important, and grimaced when he saw that it was his wife, Mary, again. He ignored it like the others that she had sent, trying to justify, or apologise, he didn't know, he didn't care.
He'd also gotten some calls and text messages from a few of the other sluts, he treated them the same way.
He was busy getting his children ready for the day. They were young, they didn't understand what was about to happen to their previously sheltered little lives. Wouldn't understand for years to come, maybe they'd never understand, hell Geoff was nearing forty and he couldn't understand it either.
Another text message appeared, and he glanced at it once more.
Plane arrives at 4:15 pm.
He shook his head. Could she not understand what 'DON'T COME HOME' meant? Did one of the dicks she had in her face cause her brain damage? He shook his head again and muttered to himself.
What a stupid cunt.
Did she think he was going to pick her up from the airport? What a dumb bitch. But, he thought harder. If he didn't pick her up, she'd end up coming here in a taxi. And then he'd have to deal with her anyway, and in front of the kids. No, that wouldn't do.
His phone rang once more. And again he answered it.
"Please, Geoff..."
He disconnected. He wished at that moment that he'd been keeping a tally. He could have made a game out of it.
This time though, instead of putting the phone back down, he hit his speed dial #9.
It started ringing, he waited, he had time. Suddenly, the beeping of call waiting came across his line. He grimaced slightly and shook his head again at her audacity.
"Hello."
He heard his mother-in-law, Debbie, answer the phone. Good she wasn't out.
"Hi Debbie, Geoff here." He rarely called her, he had no need to call her, she was Mary's mother, and Mary spent at least thirty minutes a day on the phone to her. It was kind of weird that she spoke to her mother that much, given that they also saw each other at least once a week, and only lived about 30 minutes apart.
"Hi Geoff, is everything ok? Has Mary gotten home yet?" She had an edge to her voice now, as the call waiting beep stopped, which he was thankful for. It was clear that Debbie assumed something was wrong for him to be calling her. How right she was.
"No Debbie, she's not back, and that's what I want to talk to you about. Mary and I are going to be getting divorced, and she's not welcome here, not for the foreseeable future anyway."
He heard a sharp intake of breath. "What do you mean a divorce? Now just hold on there a minute."
"Debbie, shut the fuck up, ok. We're getting a divorce, and nothing is going to stop that. She just sent me a text a couple of minutes ago, saying that her plane lands at 4:15. I would suggest that you need to go and get her and take her back to your place. If you can come here before you head to Tulamarine, I'll have a couple suitcases of her clothes for you to take with you."
Debbie was stunned. She couldn't remember the last time someone had talked to her like that, least of all a family member. Sure Geoff could be a bit brash at times, but never like this. And the divorce he was talking about.
"What did you do?" she demanded.
"Me? Fuck you Debbie. Your daughter has been slutting around fucking god knows how many guys on this hen's do. So no, I didn't do anything."
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, before Debbie launched back in. "Bullshit Geoff, Mary wouldn't do that. She's respectable, not a tramp..." She didn't get any further as Geoff disconnected.
The phone started ringing again.
"Please Geoff, don't..."
He disconnected. What a dumb bitch she was turning out to be, how did he never notice it before.
He started thumbing through the photos and video he had gotten from the night before, until he found the one that he wanted. A short, nine second clip of Mary on all fours, a big guy fucking her from behind as she sucked and jerked two other guys, her face and tits already covered in cum. Around her a crowd was clearly visible, and the music and chanting of suck suck suck really drove home the depravity of the situation.
He attached the video and sent it to Debbie.
He received another text message, this time from the slut whose party weekend it was, Amanda, soon to be married to some guy that Geoff had only met once or twice. He seemed nice, but Geoff couldn't remember his name.
Geoff it was all fake dont do anything stupid
The stupid thing would be to believe that it was all fake. He laughed and then called Debbie back.
She answered in tears.
"Come here on the way to the airport, but don't, I repeat don't bring her back. She isn't welcome."
He heard a mumbled ok, and then he disconnected.
Right, now that was done, he'd have to go about telling all the other guys what had happened, in case their sluts were fucking around on them as well. He went to the fridge and took down the sheet with all the names and numbers of the husbands and boyfriends, that all of them had been given in case of an emergency.
This is Geoff Greenfield, Mary's soon to be ex-husband. I don't know if my wife was the only one fucking around on Amanda's party weekend, but you might want to find out what your girls were up to. Attached in the proof that some of your partners graciously sent me at 11pm last night.
It was a long winded text, but it explained what he needed.