Dont Ask 1

This is a little different from what I normally submit. I had trouble deciding what category to put it in. Romance, nope. Loving wives, nope. Romance, definitely nope. That leaves non consent since she did not choose to end up however she ended up.

This should appease the "burn the bitch" crowd.

There is no sex in the story; it is only referred to in passing.

Be thoughtful. Be kind. Enjoy, or not; you decide.

*

My name is Steve. I am now married to the most beautiful woman in the world. Just ask her she will certainly confirm it is true. This one is a keeper.

I work construction; we build bridges and other large structures. I work out of town most of the time. While I own my home I rarely get to spend much time there. That is until the last job the company sent me to. I now work in town at the office, with only an occasional day or 2 out of town. Now the wife comes with me.

Most of our jobs we worked 10 hours a day for 5 days. At the new one we worked 4 days of the week for 12 hours. I got to come home for 3 days and then go back. My previous wife got too used to my schedule of being out of town and forgot about the change. Well, maybe I forgot to tell her, I don't remember. Damn my memory.

The first weekend I came home I found her in bed with the neighbor. I just waited quietly in the yard until he had to run home, the biggest gulf club from his bag did the trick. He was out on the first stroke and hurting real bad after 5 minutes. He left the garage door open so he could sneak back in without making any noise. It made things easy for me to get the club.

His wife was the first suspect. Hell, she was with her lover at the time. She could not admit to that; now, could she. There was still no way to pin it on her. I wore gloves so there were no prints on the club, except his. No one even looked at me, I was 3 states away. Wasn't I?

I came home as she expected the next evening. After my wife told me about someone beating the neighbor almost to death I, sort of, found his missing wallet and custom lighter under my side of the bed. He actually forgot to take his superman underwear, which was there too. She tried to talk her way out of it by admitting it was a one time thing and would never happen again. I had been suspicious about things for a while and had a motion activated monitoring system installed 4 weeks before; while we were on vacation. Every evening they were at it, until the memory was full. You just can't find a large enough storage device to record a full week of sex, believe me I tried.

The house was mine before we married; I never put her name on the title. I paid cash for the materials, and designed and built it about 10 years back. No way was she going to get it. I changed the locks and moved all her stuff to her parents' place. Then I filed for divorce. Money, cards and vehicles had always been separate.

She was going to fight it until I sent her 21 hours or more of them in my bed. This was from a 2 week period. I was going to show it to her family, the police and everyone else who wanted to see it. I offered a movie night for all her friends; with beer and popcorn. She could be the guest of honor.

She whimpered and left complaining all the while that she still loved me. That is her cross to bear. Or is that bear to cross?

This brings me to the current situation 3 years later.

I have a camper that I use when I am away on distant jobs. There is also a camera setup in it. Too many times while I was back home for a bit, some smartass would break in and clean me out. I was determined to get the next one.

I parked it behind my garage since I was not using it lately. There is an easy pull in and out and just off the alley. I always leave the truck attached so I do not need to fiddle with it when I get the urge to go away for a while. I have another that I drive for working.

I keep a current registration for the state parks on the truck so it is as simple as going into the campgrounds, registering for a site and parking the rig. I always try to stay at the parks when I am working, if one is nearby.

I was engaged to another beautiful woman; Shelly watched the house when I was away. We were set to be married in the 2 weeks. She had paid for everything; it promised to be the event of the century in our town.

Let me tell you about Shelly. She was about 115 pounds, had a c cup chest. Her hair is almost pure platinum, naturally. The body was to die for and when she spoke you would think honey was pouring forth from her mouth. In short she was a wet dream. Mmmm....

Oh, yeah; the problem. Sorry to ramble there.

My problem is that someone was not very careful when they moved my camper the last time. The last time, how do I know it was more than once? I keep a mileage log in the truck. The tanks were full, just as I always keep them. However, the mileage was up by 300 miles from the last time I took it anywhere. I called the state park I go to and was told I had been there the last week and 3 weeks before for 2 nights each time. I think I would remember that.

It is 75 miles each way to the campground, which is 150 per trip. If there were 2 trips then that would add up to 300 miles.

Shelly was all over me the evening I came home the next weekend. I complained about a pulled hamstring and begged off for the night. The next morning while I did my chores she went to the store. While she was gone I changed out the memory on my security in the truck.

I checked to see what was on it while I was out of town the next week. I saw Shelly and her old boyfriend Tom in all their glory partying in my camper. They made the mistake of planning their next adventure while in the camper; it was for the next week.

That weekend I called and told her I was needed at the site and would get a 4 day weekend the following week. I was assigned to work alone at an area where we did pre-assembly of parts. I worked extra hours all week so my work was ahead. The area was in a no cell phone area and the work site was already overloaded with parts. I was told to keep doing my job and not ship anything for a week and a half; at least.

I actually drove into town and parked my truck 4 blocks over from the house at a friend's house. He was out of town for his yearly 2 weeks in the reserves. There was no wife so no one would see the truck there. Just to be careful I put it inside the garage.

In the wee hours of the morning I snuck over to get into the bed of my camping truck. It is a 1 ton pickup with a fiberglass topper on the back. There is an area in the front of the bed where I have a tarp over some tools I keep there. The windows are tinted so you can not see in too well.

(For those who want to complain about the change from past to present tense, I still have the truck and camper, so present is ok here.)

Shelly did not see me when she came out to the truck that morning. Tom approached from the north end of the alley. They both climbed into my truck and proceeded to head for the campground. I had concealed a wireless microphone in the passenger compartment that fed into a recorder in the back with me.

I listened as they talked. This week was to be their last fling for a while before Shelly and I got married. The words "for a while" really had my blood boiling. I was going to have to revamp my plans; I was not feeling charitable.

They pulled into the site they had reserved and parked the rig. No sooner than they were parked they headed toward the camper. Tom had to help her lift the bar that keeps the screen door from swinging open in traffic. This is not a regular camper screen door; the original was lost somewhere on a highway in west Texas many years ago. With all the break-ins to my camper I decided to install an armor-plated door. It is solid steel. It sits where the screen should be, so I call it the screen door. No bugs will be coming in through that door.

They had not bothered to put the jacks in place. They just parked the truck and ran to the camper. She left her purse up front and didn't even lock the doors. I gave them 10 minutes to get started and when the camper started to rock slightly I snuck out of the back of the truck and quietly secured the bar over the door to keep it from opening. I quickly started the truck and slowly left the campground. I guess it took a while for the 2 lovebirds to realize the camper was being driven somewhere. They had been rocking the camper more than the driving did. There was no way to get out at that point, who would want to get out at 45 mph even if the door opened.

I confirmed most of their activities on the recordings after I brought the camper home.

When they finally realized the camper was moving they got up to look and see what was happening. Most of the windows were covered in a film to keep the bad guys from looking in. The film made it difficult to see out easily. They were not happy campers at this point.

Before they discussed getting back together after we were married I was willing to just throw her ass out and beat the shit out of him. Now I had a different destination in mind. About 1/3 of the way home was a little gas station, liquor store, bait shop. Oh hell, you know what I mean, out in the country a little store that accommodated almost everyone for almost anything, mostly the tourists. This one was run by the nastiest looking bunch you ever saw. If you look up redneck in the dictionary their picture would be there. Mom was the smallest of the lot. She was upwards of 350, at a startling 4 foot 8. The father was long gone. He was some sort of Hispanic fellow. The 6 boys were the dirtiest, scruffiest, nastiest bunch you would ever lay your eyes on. Those boys were all over 6 foot 6 and just huge.

The oldest had a habit of calling out "Que possum!" to customers as they arrived. Over the years the boys kinda took a shine to me. I made it a point to stop in when I went by.

The last time I was in the oldest boy whispered to me that if I ever got tired of my babe they would be glad to help me out with her. Any way as I pulled into their lot they watched. It was almost dark by the time I got there.

From a dark corner of the porch I heard it "Que possum? Why you no stop the last 2 times you went up?"

I climbed out of the truck and stretched my legs. "Remember the last time I was here?"

"Yeah, we didn't mean no harm with the comment."

I walked over to him and spoke quietly. "I know that. I was not driving on the last 2 trips, someone else was. You still want the woman?"

I could have pushed him over with a feather.

"She is yours if ya want her. You just need to do me a favor."

"Whatcha want?"

"There might be 2 people in the camper, might not be. One of them might be her. The other one might be her lover. I didn't look when I closed it up and stole it."

He looked at me really strange.

"I am going into the store for dinner; if they are gone when I come back out I will never know if they were there or not." I smiled at him.

"I don't care what you do with him. Her you can keep as long as you want. I never want to see her again."

I could see the spit running down out of his mouth through the dark black beard and drip slowly across his belly to the ground.

I paid for my fuel, turned to go into the store and had a wonderful supper. When I came back out the truck was exactly as I left it, except for a cooler containing 2 cases of my favorite cold beer in the cab on the floor. I saw no one.

The ride home was quiet and relaxing.

When I got home I changed the memory on the recorder again, made sure there were no signs of Shelly and Tom in the camper and locked it up. I walked over to get my truck and headed back to the job site.

When I returned home that weekend there were dozens of messages on the answering machine and no sign of Shelly. Most of the calls were for her. I returned any calls that left a number and promised she would call back. Next I called her mother; no one had heard from her for 4 days.

I called the state police to report a missing person. When asked how long I only said I did not know. I explained how I work out of town and returned to find her gone and many messages on the machine. No one had seen or heard from her all week.

The police listened to the messages and took a report. They said to let them know if she showed up. By the end of the next week she had not shown up so the wedding was canceled.

Six months later I took a week off to go fishing. I stopped in to fill my gas tanks as always; when I came back out there was a cooler with 2 cases of cold beer in the front seat of the truck. I saw the boys parade a pregnant, naked platinum blond in front of the barn door.

Now every time I pull in we greet each other with "Que Possum." and my reply "Que pussy." Over the last 5 years there have been more and more children at the store when I stop in. A few have platinum blond hair. Each time there is always a cooler filled with my favorite cold beer and the boys walk an increasingly fatter and fatter, usually pregnant, naked platinum blond past the barn door.

I married the boss' daughter last year. She loves to camp and fish, she noticed the blond and thinks it is cute how they love to show her off.

Oh, about Tom; I have no idea. There is a swamp down the road a piece.

I never ask and they never tell.