The Road to Hell

Just a little flash story that came to me while I was doing some research. Very little sex.

*****

I felt fear clutch at my heart when I saw his car in the driveway. What the hell was he doing here? He'd made it pretty plain over the last few months he wanted nothing to do with me. The last time he told me if I didn't stop he would make me. I laughed at him. That might have been a mistake.

It was a little more difficult than I thought to find him, in fact, it took the detective three weeks. The look in his face was priceless when I walked in to the bar he'd started to frequent, with two big guys from the agency with me. The last time we'd talked had been pretty heated, the terms 'low life slut' and 'backstabbing cunt' seemed to be his favorites. I'd been pretty embarrassed, as it had been in one of the better places I frequented, and he was pretty loud. I didn't go there anymore.

Why couldn't he see that I was just trying to help him? Yes, his wife had cheated. Yes, I felt guilty about it, since I kept her entertained with the details of the affairs I was having, even encouraged her to have her first, telling her what a rush it was. And she enjoyed every minute of it. So much so, she was on her third lover when he caught her. Jesus, it was just sex. She wasn't going to leave him, none of them were permanent, none of them were a threat to him. She'd been doing it for a year and he'd never known.

I mean, come on, look at me. I couldn't even remember the number of lovers I'd had since I'd married my third husband. Despite the fun I had with younger guys who had bigger equipment, better stamina, and a good bit more imagination, I always went home to him, always gave him as much as he wanted. I loved making love to my husband. He was kind, gentle, and did anything I asked him to do. The only times I turned him down was when I had just been pounded and was way too loose, but I always gave him a blowjob to make up for it, and I gave very, very good blowjobs. Years of practice, I guess.

"Look, Todd, I know you don't like me very much right now, but..."

That was all I got out before I was wearing the draft he'd been drinking. My guards started to move but I waved them back. I asked the bartender for a towel, and he eyed me coolly before handing me one. I hoped it was clean, this place was one cut above a dive.

"Can we try again? I need to tell you..."

"What you need to do is get your cheating ass the fuck away from me! What part of that don't you understand? I want nothing to do with you ever again. It's your fault I lost my wife. Not completely, you didn't spread her legs for her, but you did practically everything else."

People were starting to stare. I tried to get him to a table, but he sat right where he was.

"I'm sorry! All right? I know I filled her head full of ideas she shouldn't have had. Why do you think I'm trying so hard to get you guys back together? I feel horrible over this."

I did, really. They were so much in love, at least when I met them. The playing should never have changed that, at least as long as he didn't know about it. She was devastated, wanting him back, and pretty pissed at me. I promised her I'd fix it.

"YOU FEEL HORRIBLE? FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HORRIBLE FEELS LIKE, BUT I PROMISE YOU THIS. KEEP FUCKING WITH ME AND YOU'LL FIND OUT HOW HORRIBLE REALLY FEELS. NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

I started to answer when the bartender cut in. "Ma'am? You need to leave. You need to leave right now! I can't have you coming in here and disturbing my customers. And please, the next time you need a drink, don't stop here."

I was amazed. He was throwing me out of this dump. Really?

"Now see here..."

He punched some numbers into the phone he was holding. "Yeah, this is Joe, over at The Hole. I got a woman in here, belligerent, disturbing my patrons, and she's refusing to leave. No, I don't think she's drunk. You guys know I usually handle things like this myself, but it's a woman and she looks like the type that likes to sue people, so I'd appreciate your help.."

It must have been a slow night, because the cops were there in two minutes. The female asked me quietly to leave, and when I balked she took hold of my arm.

"Here's your choices. You can walk out of here, and we'll let you leave. You fight me. I'll cuff you, arrest you, and haul your ass off to jail, let you post bond, and it all becomes a matter of public record. You need to decide right now."

I really couldn't afford publicity or explain what I was doing here to hubby, so I left.

"This isn't over," I hissed at him as they led me outside.

"Oh yes it is. I've reached my limit. Push me again, and I'll push back hard."

"Do you hear that? Officer, he just threatened me."

"I may or may not have heard something. Did you Darrel?"

The big cop looked at her. He wasn't grinning. "Maybe, ask her if she wants to file a report."

I couldn't do that, so I declined. By then we were outside. "Ma'am, go home. I don't know the circumstances, but he doesn't want anything to do with you. My advice is to leave him alone. Oh, and you've been barred from the property. Come back, and we WILL arrest you. Now you have a good night, somewhere else."

Goddammit! What was the use of having money when it did you no good? This was definitely not over.

I tried again, even told the guys with me to hold him so I could present my case. One stumbled reaching for him, I think, and Todd kicked the other one in the balls. Needless to say there was no intelligent conversation that night. The only thing he said was I'd finally pushed too far, it was all on me now. He left before I could ask him what he meant.

Todd pretty much disappeared after that, quitting his job, moving, and leaving no forwarding address. The detectives hit a stone wall when they talked to his family and friends. Each told a different story. He was out of the country. He was right down the street. He was in Texas, Canada, Maine, Mexico. Most just asked who wanted to know and told them to piss off. And now, here he was, in my driveway.

Fear clutched at my heart as I entered the house.

"Honey, do we have guests?" I called out, hoping to find a tranquil scene.

"We're out here on the patio." I walked out, admiring the view. I'd had him put a lot of money in to it. The patio sloped down to a hot tub and a pool that looked like it was about to fall off the hill, and cascaded into another pool twelve feet below. I had fond memories of that waterfall, at least three of my lovers had fucked me underneath it, on a little ledge I had built in. Good thing hubby travels a lot. It was also a good thing I'd fucked the head of the company handling our security, wiring in a cutout switch that only I knew about. Flipped, it played a loop showing empty rooms and landscape. Couldn't be too careful, now could I?

Todd had been the one who had spoken. He was holding some ice to a large bruise on my husband's cheek and eye, which had swelled shut. His shirt was almost torn off, and quite bloody.

"Hi there, Marge. Remember me telling you the last time you tired to interfere with my life that there would be repercussions? Well, you didn't listen. Here's the deal. From now on, every time you mess with me, I'm going to kick the ass of someone close to you, and then tell them why I did it. Harold here is a lot tougher than I gave him credit for, all that gym time certainly paid off. Knew how to box, too. Who would have guessed."

He let go of the ice pack, patting Harold on the shoulder. "Don't feel bad, Harold. When I was young they didn't have MMA like they do now. They had what they called 'Tough Man' competitions. You put up an entry fee, and the last man standing won. We fought back then for peanuts, usually a grand or two was all you got. Still, I was good enough to pay for my education and have a little left over to start my life. And you're not the only one who likes to keep in shape. So even if I am fifty, I can still mix it up when I have to. I'm sincere when I say I'm sorry you got dragged in to this."

"Now, Marge, you have two brothers, right? And I believe your dad is still around. Must be close to seventy by now, I'd guess. So he'll be last. And the more you press, the harder I'll hit. Have we reached an understanding here?"

"Goddamn you! You can't come in to my home, assault my husband and threaten my family and think you can get away with it! I'm calling the cops. Now!"

My threat didn't seem to scare him.

"Why don't you do that very thing? If Harold doesn't mind, I'll get us a couple of beers while you call. Who knows when I'll get to have another. Go on now, call. I won't try to justify what I did, but I will explain why and what caused it when I go to trial, and then it'll be a matter of public record. After all, they say confession is good for the soul. Go on, then, call. And just so you know, as soon as I get out I'll start again, and I'll be a lot less inclined to be gentle."

I couldn't call and he damn well knew it. If I did, the whole sordid mess would come out. One of his wife's lovers was an old one of mine, and two of them were married. I learned from my first two divorces, you'll throw anyone under the bus to save yourself. And Harold was starting to give me funny looks. I dropped the phone.

"All right, you bastard. Walk out of here right now, and it's over. You'll never see or hear from me again, I swear. NOW LEAVE!"

"All right. You don't have to yell. You know none of this would have been necessary if you had just left me alone. Harold, I apologize, and it was good to meet you, under the circumstances. You're a pretty tough old bird when it comes down to it. If you ever need a friend in low places, look me up. send a message through the bartender at The Hole, and I'll get in touch with you as soon as I can. Marge, walk me out."

I could see the look in my husbands' eye as I went back into the house. I'd have to be in full spin mode when I came back, Good thing I had a degree in Public Relations, not that I'd had to use those skills in years.

We walked out to his truck. I'd be glad to get that heap of junk out of my drive. He reached in and handed me three manila folders, each stuffed full.

"You should have left me alone, Marge. Give this to Kristy. Tell her it's fair, and if she fights it I'll name all her lovers and have them testify. This is North Carolina, and we still have alienation of affection laws. I won't get anything, but it'll embarrass the shit out of them, especially the married ones."

"These," he said, "are yours. I had to take a draft on my retirement, but it was worth it. There are dates, photos, names, and places. Damn, Marge, you are one arrogant bitch. All this didn't slow you down at all. Nice tits, by the way, even if they are store bought. Here's the deal. You go in, right now, right this very minute, and confess to Harold. You don't have to go into detail because he'd dump your ass for sure, just tell him you cheated and beg him to forgive you. If you don't, and I'll know, believe me, I'll send another copy of this to Harold at his office. This is the price you pay for fucking up a good marriage. In a way, I hope Harold forgives you and you turn into a real wife. He deserves it."

I just stood in the driveway forever, watching his tail lights fade, before locking the folders in my car, and going back inside, to confess my sins and hope he'd forgive me.

...

He didn't, of course, and the prenuptial he made me sign kicked in. In the end, he was more generous than he had to be, giving me two hundred grand and my brand new sixty thousand dollar car.

I moved in with Kristy, for survival more than anything else. I had to put up with the bitch crying every night for six months. Todd was kind to her, more than she said she deserved. She got the house, worth about four fifty, her two year old car, and a lump sum she would never discuss with me.

We didn't actually like each other anymore, but it was better(and a hell of a lot cheaper)than living alone. I sold my expensive car and bought a small Ford, to build up my stake. I had no intention of going to work, this was my war chest, to tide me over until I found husband number four.

I finally talked Kristy into joining a country club with me, a proven hunting ground. She had little interest in lounging around the pool, and took up golf, becoming quite good at it. I couldn't understand for the life of me, I'd be laying at the pool in as little as I could get away with without being completely slutty, and the guys who chatted me up would completely ignore me when she came off the course in those cut little golf outfits. For some reason she always wore the skirt type shorts, and she had great legs. It made her look a lot younger than her age of forty-five.

I hooked up with about every single(and a few of the married)guys close to my age there. They'd wine me, dine me, we'd end up at their place or a hotel where they'd fuck me, but after two or three dates, they'd move on.

Close to a year later, my funds were getting low and I was no closer to a new husband than I was then. I'd pretty much gone through all the eligible men at the club. Maybe it was time to move memberships.

Then I got a series of shocks. Kristy had finally recovered from losing Todd, and had been dating the club pro. I knew it had gotten serious when she started keeping his two kids while he worked. God, I hated kids. They learned pretty early to avoid me, especially on the weekends. She stopped me on my way out one night and asked for a minute to talk.

"Marge, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to move out. You don't have to be in any rush, take a month or so. Brad and I have decided to live together, to see if it can go farther. I love him, and I adore his kids. He loves me too, but before I committed, I told him the whole story about how I'd lost Todd. It shook him so bad we didn't see each other for three weeks. You had to have heard me crying during that time."

"It took a lot, but one night over dinner he told me he thought I was worth the risk. I'd die before I hurt another man like I hurt Todd, and he knows your part in my downfall, so you have to go. And Marge, don't expect any phone calls or nights out after you leave, he made it pretty clear that if he was in my life you weren't. I wouldn't worry, Marge. You're like a cat, you'll always land on your feet. A month Marge."

Stupid, stupid girl. he probably made sixty a year, tops, and he had two brats. What was she thinking?

I started getting desperate, so I widen my parameters. I'd just got done fucking a sixty year old, He was bald, fat, and wasn't worth a damn in bed, but he had redeeming qualities. He was reputed to be worth around ten mil.

I let the poor smuck rest a while, didn't want to kill the golden goose, after all, then went down on him. It took me twenty minutes to get his pathetic little wienie up. In between slurps and bouts of deep throat, I made my sales pitch.

"You know, Roger(slurp), I'm really attracted to you(gobble), I've always been a sucker(slurp, slurp) for a powerful, handsome man. You know, if I shared this condo with you, this world class mouth(gobble, gobble, gobble)would be available twenty-four seven, as well as the rest of me."

I paused, raising up to slide his cock up and down my breasts, then went back down, sucking like mad. He grabbed my hair, which I hated, and started face fucking me. His cock was so small he didn't even gag me, though I faked it. Soon a tiny trickle came out as he moaned, and I made a big production of swallowing, acting like it was almost too much for me. He patted me on the head like a dog and went to sleep instantly.

I got up in disgust, brushed my teeth and gargled, and settled in next to him, spooning and making sure his hand was on my tits.

After a morning blow job, I asked him if he'd considered my offer. He laughed.

"Shit no. You're a fine piece of ass, Marge, for your age, but I got two twenty year old girls in different apartments now, just waiting for me to call. And to be honest, you're a little long in the tooth, and you've had so much work done I'm afraid to let you stand to close to open flames."

I was furious, grabbing up my clothes while he laughed. "I'm sure the others at the club don't share such a low opinion of me."

He laughed louder. "As a matter of fact, Marge, they do. Did it not occur to you that when you showed up out of the blue that we didn't check you out? You're a three time loser, baby, and nobody wants a loser. We even made a game of it, there's a grease board on the wall of the men's locker room. We've been keeping score, and the only ones you haven't fucked are the ones that turned you down cold or the hired help, and I hear we may have to change that. Your trainer, really? He can't be over twenty-five. Did you ever wonder why no one would do you bareback? We were all scared to. I hate to be the one to tell you, but he wives have started viewing you as a threat now that you've gone through all the bachelors. If I were you, I'd leave before you got thrown out, so you can join somewhere else."

I was beyond shocked and humiliated. I was destroyed. Then I pulled myself together. I was still hot, damn it! I could still get a man! True, it was time to set the sights a little lower, maybe a nice guy in middle management, with a decent house. Yes, that would be just the thing.

I resigned, from the club, scraping just enough money to join one of the lower tiered ones, after I was turned down by my first two choices. It was kind of out in the sticks, but that just upped my chances.

Two weeks later I went in to clean out my locker. The parking lot was so crowded I barely found a place to park, there must be a big event today.

Then I saw a woman, early forties, kinda plain but dressed nicely, get out of a minivan with two early teen kids. They were carrying a wedding gown while she hovered. A wedding then. I stopped, remembering all three of mine, bug expensive affairs. I'd loved every one.

She'd been inside about twenty minutes when I heard the music start. I couldn't help it, I stood at the door to watch, as did a few others from the club. There was whispered conversation while we waited for the service to begin.

"Yeah, he's a member, has been for years, but I've never seen him."

"He's a nice old guy. I heard his exwife was a cheating bitch, she got caught, and he threw her out."

"I heard he's like mega rich, and the bride didn't have a dime. She even has a couple of kids, a boy twelve and a girl thirteen. They think he hung the moon, call him Dad and everything. Hear he's never had kids, and dotes on these. He even redid his pool for them, taking a waterfall down and putting a slide in. Boy, they're going to have it made."

The music started, drowning us out. The bride actually looked good with her dress and hair, her makeup perfect. We couldn't see the groom because they're backs had been turned. My heart jumped into my throat. Harold! And standing beside him was that bastard Todd.

I didn't even remember doing it. The next thing I knew the security guys had me down as I screamed profanities about how bad I was going to fuck everybody in the wedding party up. The bride was standing over me, a shocked look on her face. Harold rushed to her, cuddled her, and looked down. His eyes widened, and suddenly he started laughing, roaring. He called Todd over and whispered in the bride's ear while he approached, Soon they were laughing, and others, infected by their obvious glee, joined in. The laughter was the last thing I heard as they threw me in the squad car.

I was arrested for trespassing, assault, attempted assault, disorderly conduct, they wanted to charge me for alcohol, I'd had a few martinis for old times sake at the bar, but I only blew a .06. I was processed and bail was set at twenty five grand. Shit, I didn't have that kind of money. I just barely had enough to pay the ten per cent to a bondsman. I called Kristy with my one call they allowed me.