She squirmed uncomfortably.
“But what did you do to me?” She rubbed her crotch. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I had sex with an entire football team.”
* * *
So that was how David dodged that bullet – and as he drove to work, he considered how lucky he was. He’d gone through the last night of this experience, and from here on it he could finally focus on what was important – him and Cassie.
That was, until she called him.
“David?” She still sounded pissed off; which he could hardly blame her for (if she knew the truth, he’d probably be sitting in a jail cell or a morgue right now.) “I need you to do something for me.”
“O-okay,” he nodded. “What?”
“I need you to do and see our doctor and…” She took a deep breath. “Have a fertility test.”
David nearly drove his car off the road.
“O-okay,” he replied blankly. “I can do that.” He paused. “But, why?”
He heard a deep breath on the other end of the line.
“Because I’ve been listening to these hypnosis tapes for so long, and because you had sex with me last night – even though you knew you weren’t supposed to!”
She paused.
“We’ve been trying for a baby for so long. I just need to know whether it’s my fault, or if there’s something wrong on your end.”
David nervously gulped.
“O-okay,” he promised. “I’ll go and see my doctor today.”
* * *
And he did.
David was an hour late to work that morning, because he went to masturbate into a little plastic cup and give it to his doctor.
As he stood in the little room, with porn magazines on the counter, he rubbed his cock to climax thinking of what he’d seen the night before; of his wife getting plowed by stranger after stranger.
It felt wrong, and awful – but it had his cock spewing in just seconds.
After he’d handed his little cup over to the nurse, he drove to work and ducked into his cubicle. He had one more thing bothering him – his penny stocks.
Logging into eTrade, he saw what had transpired since the day before yesterday – the stocks he’d invest in had gone up 25%.
This was mind-blowing, David realized. His account was worth nearly $20,000 now – all from a $500 investment just a week and a bit ago. He realized that if he could keep this up, he’d soon have enough money to make some really life-changing choices; and hopefully provide for Cassie in a way that would help him to forget the ordeal he’d put her through the last few weeks.
Chapter Seventeen
Weeks passed.
In that time, Cassie seemed to forgive David – but they still weren’t sleeping together.
“I have just a few more nights of my hypnosis tapes left,” she told him – and David had seen that her supply of pills matched her claim. Why she was taking the pills, he didn’t know – but at least the end of their sexless streak was coming to an end.
At work, things were starting to get crazy.
David continued to dabble in the stocks that he saw Phil, from Investor Relations, purchase. And the more money he had to invest, the more absurd the returns were. Twenty thousand dollars had become fifty. Then seventy five.
David realized that he was earning enough to pay off his mortgage. Perhaps even quit his job (although how would he get his stock tips then?)
* * *
It all came crashing down the next morning, though.
On his drive to work, David received a phone call him the doctor’s office.
“We’ve completed the semen analysis you requested,” the nurse explained. “The doctor’s confirmed that there’s zero sperm motility. We’d like you to come in to discuss it – and what options you and your wife might have regarding pregnancy.”
“O-options?” David stammered, steering with one hand.
“Yes,” the nurse explained. “In case I hadn’t made it clear – you’re functionally sterile.”
David’s mind reeled.
He and Cassie had been trying for a baby for so long, so it made sense. But during all that time, it had never occurred to him that he might be the problem.
Feeling woozy at the news, David turned his car around and headed home. He was calling in sick today.
Pulling into his driveway, David was surprised to see Cassie’s car parked too. What was his wife doing home?
As he climbed up the steps, his heart was in his throat. For a minute, David wondered if he was going to find his beloved in bed with somebody else; the ultimate cliché of the wife screaming: “I didn’t expect you home so soon!”
But instead, as David opened the back door, he found his wife fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table silently.
“W-what’s wrong?” David asked. Cassie didn’t even look up. She didn’t even ask him what he was doing home on a workday.
Instead, she just passed over a little pink, plastic stick.
David picked it up and stared at it, dumbfounded.
It was a pregnancy test. And, according to the big, smiley face on it, Cassie was pregnant.
“W-what?” David blinked.
Fuck, he thought, staring at the stick. Oh, fuck. He was done. He was dead. He was busted. The worst possible scenario had happened, and David’s world was about to come crashing down as a result of it.
As far as his wife knew, she and David had barely had sex in months; and as the doctor would no doubt tell her later, even if they had, it wouldn’t have made any difference.
David was infertile.
So the reason Cassie was sitting there, so silent and menacing, was because she wanted to know how she got pregnant.
And the answer to that question?
It must have been Brandon. Or Tyrone. Or one of the other men he’d let into their house, and let fuck his sleeping, oblivious wife.
Some big, black stranger had got her pregnant – and whatever he told her now, the truth would come out in nine months’ time. And then it would end in a divorce court if he was lucky, or a jail cell if he got what he deserved.
David took a deep breath and looked up at his beautiful wife. He opened his mouth to say something… But, instead, Cassie burst into tears.
“I’I’m sorry,” she wailed.
David blinked.
“You’re sorry?”
Cassie looked up, her eyes red and puffy.
“I’m so sorry, David,” she wailed. “We were careful, I swear. I really thought we were being careful.”
“I… Um…” David blinked. “I’m confused.”
Cassie looked at him like he was retarded.
“I’m having an affair, David,” she told him. “How else do you think I got pregnant? That one time two weeks ago? When I was asleep?” She shook her head. “I already called the doctor. I know you’re infertile.”
David gripped the table for support and his legs threatened to give way.
“Y-you… I mean…”
Cassie started crying again.
“It’s got to be his,” she explained. “I don’t understand how. We always used condoms.” She looked up and repeated: “We were careful, I swear.”
But David was still playing catch up.
“Wait,” he demanded. “What?”
Cassie wiped her nose on the back of her hand.
“I’m having an affair,” she repeated. “I’ve been having an affair for two months now.” She shook her head. “Why do you think I haven’t been sleeping with you?”
“T-the hypnosis tapes,” David blinked. “What about the hypnosis tapes?”
“Oh, David,” she shook her head. “I’m so sorry. That was just to keep you away.” She reached over and patted his hand. “It’s going to sound crazy, but I didn’t want to sleep with you while I was sleeping with him.” She blinked. “It seemed like cheating, somehow.”
David shook his head.
“Wait,” he demanded. “Let me make sur
e I’ve got this right. You’re having an affair?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “With Tony, from work.” David had no idea who Tony was. “I was trying to find the right time to tell you.” She picked up the pregnancy test. “I guess this is it.”
David blinked.
Cassie was pregnant.
And she was having an affair.
And she thought she was pregnant because of that affair – with whoever this “Tony” from her work was.
But the reality was starkly different.
Cassie was pregnant, almost certainly, from one of the big, black men who’d gangbanged her that night. Or from Brandon or Tyrone.
In any event, it meant that Cassie was in for the surprise of her life when her baby emerged in nine months’ time.
Her baby, David blinked.
It was meant to be their baby. They’d been trying for so long.
Hell, at this stage he’d even consider Tyrone, Brandon and the rest of those black strangers as sperm donors; ready to raise their child as his own.
But Cassie had different plans.
“So now you know I’m having an affair,” she told David coolly. “I think it’s best if you move out. Today.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next few weeks were a blur.
David found himself in a Holiday Inn Extended Stay, around the corner. He’d gone from happily married to living in a motel in the space of a single day.
And that day had stretched into weeks.
Cassie filed for divorce two days later. She emptied their bank accounts and cancelled their credit cards. In a preliminary court hearing, the judge ruled that David was still responsible for the mortgage and the utilities of the house he didn’t even live in anymore; and as a result he was virtually broke.
Or, at least, he would have been if not for the penny stock money.
Thanks to the tips Phil from Investor Relations had given him, David had enough money to get back on his feet with. Within a month, he was renting a shitty basement apartment and considering his options for the future.
It was a tough gig. David went from coming home to a kiss and a hug, to getting a non-committal shrug from his landlord. He went from a blissful cohabitation to the bachelor lifestyle in a scary amount of time (and David was lucky enough to survive being a bachelor the first time; let alone again.)
But the worst thing? It was losing Cassie.
His high-school sweetheart. The love of his life. A woman many had claimed was too good for him (and perhaps this proved they were right.)
A couple of weeks in, at one of the next court dates, David met “Tony” – the man Cassie had left him for. And for the first time in those weeks, he started to feel better.
“You need to pay me alimony,” Cassie was demanding, across the lawyer’s table. “I have to be able to provide for my baby.” She rubbed her belly, and then looked over at Tony, sitting next to her. “Our baby.”
But it wasn’t Tony’s baby, David knew. It was some black guy’s baby. And the fact that Tony was a handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed man meant that in seven or eight months’ time, when the baby was born, he’d have some very serious questions for Cassie that she wouldn’t be able to answer.
That in itself made David feel better.
He’d felt like a shit through this whole thing. He’d allowed terrible things to happen to Cassie, because he was weak and pathetic and not strong enough to say ‘no’ to forceful personalities like Brandon.
Through it all, he’d always felt like the bad guy; and how he’d betrayed Cassie. But today, when she was demanding more and more of his dwindling financial resources, David finally felt like she was about to actually get what she deserved.
And there was no little irony in that fact, David admitted to himself.
By all accounts, he was the only who deserved to be punished for what he’d done. Instead, he was going to go back into work and check on his penny stocks; a source of more money than he’d ever dreamed of, and entirely independent of his soon-to-be ex-wife’s control.
David had money, and he had a future. He might not have Cassie anymore; but to all intents and purposes he had everything else he could have asked for.
* * *
Or, at least, until that morning he went into work and found police waiting at his cubicle.
“Good morning, sir,” one of the officers unclicked his handcuffs. “We need to bring you down to the precinct to answer some questions.”
David looked up, across the open-plan office. To his horror, he suddenly saw Phil’s familiar face marching down the corridor; handcuffed, and flanked by the police.
“We have suspicion that you’re involved in illegal stock trading,” the officer continued. “Do you mind turning around?”
* * *
And that was how David found himself, eight months later, sitting in a jail cell.
The stocks Phil, from Investor Relations, had been dabbling in were fraudulent. As David was to discover soon, most penny stocks were.
Phil had the inside track on which stocks would explode, and knew when to get out of them while there were still suckers willing to pay inflated prices for them.
“And I would have gotten away with it, too,” he ended up saying on his day in court, “if some dipshit amateur hadn’t been making all the same purchases I was.”
That “dipshit amateur” David later realized, was him.
* * *
So it was from behind the prison walls that David learned of his former wife, Cassie, waddling down the aisle to marry her lover, Tony.
It was there he also learned of their abrupt divorce, not six weeks later, when ‘Tony’s’ baby emerged with chocolate skin and a full head of afro hair.
But despite that humiliation, Cassie had done well for herself; embracing the single mother lifestyle and ignoring the sneers from her married friends. She might have had no idea where or how her beautiful brown baby came from – but she loved him with all her heart and was a terrific mother.
Life for David, though, was not all reminisces.
Prison life was hard, sure. But what made it harder was something he was fairly sure would be labelled “karma”.
David found himself in an almost exclusively African-American cell-block – and, to make matters worse, many of the hulking black felons he shared space with knew somebody David knew on the outside.
Tyrone.
And when Tyrone had heard that David was locked up with his friends, he made sure to let them know a few things about the skinny white criminal. Not least of which was: “He sucks cock like a bitch.”
And, indeed, he did.
David’s penance, for what he had done to his beautiful wife, was a twisted version of the same.
For the majority of his two year sentence, he found himself on his knees or on his back; servicing a line-up of horny black strangers, just as he’d forced his oblivious wife to.
Fucked in the face and the ass day in and day out, David learned an important lesson: What goes around, comes around.
Or, in his case, cums around.
Karate Kisses
Chapter One
“Are you crazy?”
When Susie’s husband, Marcus, had his hands on his hips like that, it generally meant that she was in trouble. Which, for a cute and curvy little Italian housewife, meant that it was time to get defensively angry, to try and divert attention away from anything she might have done wrong.
“I was just trying to help out,” Susie growled back. “I’m offering to trade a few hours of work and we’ll get free fitness classes out of it if we do.” She sniffed angrily. “I thought you’d be happy that I was trying to save us some money.”
Marcus stood in the living room of their home, and the expression on his face didn’t change. In fact, if anything, his crisp British accent got colder and sharper when he spoke next.
“First off, darling,” he growled, as if ‘darling’ was a dirty word, “we haven’t had the time to take
fitness classes anyway. Sensei Desmond offered you free Zumba and Kickboxing classes for a month and you made it to, like, one of them.”
He took a deep breath.
“Secondly, it’s not as if we can’t afford them. Did you do the math?” He held up a schedule of classes. “If you volunteer to go and help out this many hours a week, you’ll be basically working for the equivalent of five dollars an hour.”
Susie said nothing.
“And, finally,” Marcus growled. “What exactly are you doing there?” He took a step forward and gazed down at his petite wife with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. “I mean, you were ‘volunteering’ to help out from 10pm to midnight last night.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Forgive me for saying that it looks a little suspicious.”
“How dare you,” Susie spat back. “There is nothing untoward about what I’m doing. As I told you, I’m just offering to clean the place up in return for free classes. Sensei Desmond just had a late class last night, and wanted somebody to clean up before 5am Zumba.” She shrugged. “And what’s the big deal? You go out with the guys late at night all the time.”
“First off, that’s not true,” said Marcus. “And secondly, it would be with the guys. You, alone in the karate school with a sweaty instructor?” He shook his head. “Looks mighty suspicious, Susie.”
“I don’t need to listen to this,” Susie snarled, before turning on her heel and storming out.
A moment later she was clambering into her car and zooming off towards the karate school. She’d show Marcus. She actually would attend one of those classes; and then maybe her suspicious husband would get off her back.
Not that he was really on her back, she admitted to herself, as she slowed for a red light. Marcus’s frustration seemed more like bemused curiosity than anger. I mean, jealousy wasn’t really part of his DNA – which was convenient, given their history – but it still annoyed Susie that he’d imply something that wasn’t actually happening.
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