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All You Need is Love

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Charlie discovers revenge doesn't work as planned.
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BillandKate
BillandKate
2,483 Followers

Foreword by the Authors

This Foreword has little to do with the story below; it's just us venting and you can go straight to the story.

We've been reading some of the comments made in the "Loving Wives" section and it occurred to us that many great authors have dropped out lately. There could be many reasons for this; but one reason might be due to the hateful and threatening comments made by (a small number, but mostly) anonymous commentators.

It's too bad if that's the case; some of these authors will be missed. Earlier this year, Kate and I wrote a "good-bye Literotica" letter after the comments became untenable; accusations of our misogyny and bigotry, even a couple death threats. We put our letter aside when we realized we would miss sharing our stories. We did take down the "Kate the Hotwife" series, which were just fantasies, because: first, Kate hated them (Kate's a good girl, which made the fantasies fun for me, not her); and second, because some readers couldn't distinguish between fantasy and reality (Were they that well written?) and the hate mail was awful.

There are a handful of authors we look forward to seeing when there's a new posting. We can't speak for them, but if they are like us, they write for their own pleasure and the positive feedback received. It's the only payment received on Literotica. Please don't take this Foreword as a plea for only positive comments; most of the criticism can be helpful in improving future works. But; take this as a request to please be a little less hateful/caustic in the criticism; and maybe a little less threatening. It's probably the only way the better authors will continue contributing here on Loving Wives.

Reading the comments made by a number of anonymous readers led us to write the story below. It's amusing to read how they would seek retribution on all parties if their spouse should ever betray them. We think the reality is quite different. As the protagonist's father states in our story, "revenge can be a tricky thing" and can carry consequences far beyond what one imagines.

********************************

All You Need Is Love

My name is Charles Kline and until the 16th of October, April 20th 2010 was the worse day of my life. April 20th is the day I came home early from a business trip and found my wife of six years, the mother of our five-year-old daughter, in bed with that asshole Trent Miller. I'll tell you what happened on October 16th a little bit later.

I can't say the discovery of her infidelity was a complete surprise; there were indications of Haley's displeasure, both with me and with our lifestyle. The recent recession had screwed with our personal finances. We purchased our home just before the crash, so we were up-side-down with the mortgage; owing more than the current value of the house. Haley wanted to walk away from the whole thing. I figured we could ride it out and eventually be OK.

The pisser was - this was the house Haley insisted "we just had to have" and we stretched ourselves to buy the four-bedroom mega-mansion. Now, she's complaining because so much of our income is going toward the mortgage payments.

Ever since Christmas, which disappointed Haley when her gift turned out to be less than anticipated, Haley has been a pain in the ass. Nothing I say or do seemed to please her. My only pleasure in life came from Tina, our daughter. Tina's eyes would light up when I opened the front door after a day at the office; a welcome response compared to the look of contempt on Haley's face.

I won't go into all the wrong reasons I married Haley Turner; it was a mistake from the start. She is a very beautiful woman, on the outside at least. Both of us were coming off failed relationships. Both of us were good looking, loved sex and knew how to please a partner. Both of us looked around, saw that all our respective friends were married, we wondered why we weren't and ended up at the altar. All lousy reasons to get married.

The marriage may have started out for all the wrong reasons; but I grew to love Haley and that love flourished after Tina was born. Many couples grow apart after the birth of their children, ours seemed to strengthen. It turned out Haley was either a great actress or schizoid; maybe both. Up until late last year, I thought we had a strong relationship and a great family. Stupid me.

I told Haley I would be coming home from my business trip on Thursday; but came home on Wednesday. Haley worked mornings and Tina was in school; which left Haley free in the afternoons and I took a chance. I drove up our street and saw the strange car in front; not exactly discreet on Haley's part; but we weren't friendly with any of our neighbors; more than half the street was empty since the housing bust.

I walked into the house, didn't need to be especially quiet with the noise coming out of the master bedroom. I stood and watched for a few seconds, long enough to get a few photos with my phone. I didn't get turned on, didn't get hard, didn't get especially angry, just felt an overwhelming sadness knowing my marriage was over. There was no way for us to get past the infidelity and total betrayal of trust. The question now, how fucked up my life would be when we divorced. As bad as our financial situation was, it would only get worse. I'd be a part-time father to my daughter, I'd never again hold or make love to the woman I'd grown to love.

Haley was riding on top of the guy who I recognized as Trent Miller, a co-worker of hers I met once. He saw me; but before he had time to move, I pulled Haley off him by her hair. He popped out of her cunt, his hard-on waving around before he covered himself with the top sheet. Haley turned to look at me and did the unexpected - she screamed at me.

"Get the fuck out of here, Charlie! What the fuck are you doing home today?"

I was stunned and reacted in the worse possible way. I pulled Haley by her hair until her face was right up to mine and screamed back.

"You fucking cunt! You have the nerve to ask me why I'm home a day early? You're fucking this asshole in my bed and you have the nerve to attack me?"

I didn't see Trent behind me. He grabbed his phone while this was going on and dialed 9-1-1. We were still screaming at each other when the cops arrived. Trent met them at the front door, he was still wrapped up in the sheet when they all came barging into the bedroom.

Based on the fact I pulled Haley's hair, nothing else; I was handcuffed and carted off to jail.

It took me a couple days to put together the money to make bail; in that time the little in our accounts was gone and Haley had disappeared with Tina. I came home to an empty house. When I returned to work on Monday there was a process server waiting in the lobby. Haley filed for divorce based on mental and physical cruelty.

I counter filed using adultery as a reason; not that it did any good; the courts did their thing - they gave custody to Haley, I had to pay alimony and child support. My credit rating dropped like a rock after we dumped the house. I still had my job; but my life was shit. If it wasn't for Tina, I'd have just left town. There was one bright spot, all charges of spousal assault were dropped.

Now, too many of my evenings were spent sitting on a bar stool at Johnnie's Tavern listening to a bunch of drunks tell me how they wouldn't let this happen to them. More than one claimed I was less than a man for allowing some guy to fuck and steal my wife. I changed bars after I heard a couple drunks say, "cuck, cuck" as I walked out one night.

I couldn't escape the feeling of disrespect. Co-workers, both men and women, either gave me a look of pity or contempt. I started to mull over some of the advice given by the drunks, my former 'friends' at Johnnie's. They were very generous with their fabrications of bravado; how they would get revenge; how I should seek retribution on the couple that put horns on my head and turned my life into this living hell.

One Sunday when I had Tina, we went to visit my parents. After dinner, Tina went into the den to watch TV while my mother and father sat with me at the table drinking coffee. I shocked my parents when I related my feelings of powerlessness and how I felt I needed to do something to reclaim my manhood.

Dad broke his silence. "Are you looking for revenge, Charlie?"

"I don't know, Dad. It just seems like I should do something."

"Revenge is a tricky thing, son. It seems like it will fill the hole; but it seldom does. It can also spiral out of control; you get your revenge on them, maybe their friends or family have to retaliate. Just ask any Chicago inner-city gangbanger how well the whole 'eye for an eye' thing is going."

Although I generally respect my Dad's approach to a problem; he'd think first, then talk or act - I just didn't want to play the part of a cuckold.

"Charlie; I'll be very disappointed in you if you carry out some vengeful act against them. I brought you up better than that. Just forget about it; violence rarely solves problems."

Despite my father's admonishments, it all came to a head one Saturday night. I was leaving my current watering hole when I saw Trent and Haley across the street walking out of one of the pricier restaurants in this part of town. While they waited for the valet to bring their car around, they engaged in a deep soul kiss. Haley wore a slinky little black dress and Trent took advantage of tight dress by cupping one of her ass cheeks with his hand. The car came around, a nice Lexus, and the couple jumped in. Just as it left the curb, I watched Haley's head drop down to Trent's lap.

I walked to my seven-year-old Chevy and sat for a minute. I was swearing out loud while pounding the steering wheel with my fists. I calmed down and turned the key; the beater I drove - the only car I could afford now that my finances were so hosed - barely sputtered before starting.

I thought I had it all planned out; I was so damn clever. I took my time and thought all my bases were covered. I approached Trent at night weeks later and before he knew it, I was bashing his ribs with the bat. I avoided his head; I didn't want to murder him, just severely cripple the man who made me a cuckold. I swung the bat a second time and broke his right leg. The third swing took out his right arm. He was now on the ground trying to cover himself; I was trying to get a shot at his groin. That's when someone shouted out from a nearby house.

"Stop - I already called the cops!"

I took off running; ditching the bat, the jacket and my mask in a dumpster three blocks away.

The next time I picked Tina up for my visitation, Haley came right out and asked if I was the one who attacked Trent. My plan was to let Haley sweat it out for a long time; she could just wait until I decided it was time for her turn. In response to her question, I just smirked, not admitting a thing; but not denying it either, just letting her sweat.

Of course, I was a prime suspect and the police questioned me more than once. I didn't have an alibi; just said I'd spent the evening alone in my apartment. No witnesses to say otherwise and the weapon was never recovered. Nothing but a motive to tie me to the crime; until...

One of the drunks that hung out at the Johnnie's got himself into a jam with the law. Trying to make a deal, he asked if the cops ever found who fucked up the guy with a baseball bat. The cops and DA gave the guy a deal and the drunk said he knew it was me. He claimed I bragged how I'd kill the guy with a bat. The drunk was lying of course, but that didn't seem to bother the cops or the DA.

I was charged with aggravated assault and attempted murder. Due to my current finances, I was assigned a public defender. The DA built most of the case against me based on circumstantial evidence and the perjured testimony of one drunk (he cleaned up nice for court, though). The jury found me innocent of attempted murder, but guilty of aggravated assault. The thing is; I couldn't really bitch too much; I had beat the crap out of Trent with that bat.

One thing did act in my favor. It was three months between the attack and the sentencing. Trent's two broken ribs, broken arm and leg were mended; Trent didn't look much like a victim when he appeared either at the trial or the sentencing. I think that's the only reason the judge sentenced me to the lower end of the guidelines. Still, I was given five years in a medium security prison.

So, what happened on October 16th that made it worse than the day I caught my wife fucking Trent? It's the day I gave my cell mate, Ronald 'Iron Ron' Young, a blow job.

I'm not bi-sexual and I've never had suppressed desires to be with a man; I simply had no choice in the matter. I have the missing teeth, broken nose and two black eyes to attest to my reluctance to enter into this jailhouse relationship. Ron and his gang of Aryans worked me over until I had little choice. Suck him off or die. Two positive things came out of this disaster: Ron doesn't share, therefore I'm off-limits to the other Aryans and now I'm protected from the non-Aryan gangs. A devil's bargain. I was also lucky Iron Ron thinks it's 'gay' to stick his dick in another man's asshole; he's happy with the blow-jobs.

What kind of sick culture condemns a man to this kind of sick punishment? I did the crime and understand the sentence of the court; at least five years imprisoned behind bars, a loss of freedom and the loss of everything that goes with it. But, why do we wink and even joke about the inhumane sexual assault of prisoners? What happened to 'an eye for an eye'? I didn't rape anyone; why should I be subjected to this sexual abuse in order to survive?

It's difficult getting information on the inside. After six long months and scores of letters, I received a visit from my mother. My father still wasn't speaking to me and my mother didn't come out of sympathy for my situation; she came to vent.

"Haley married Trent and they moved to Texas. They wouldn't allow your father and me to see Tina before they moved; they won't allow her to come to the phone when we tried to call Tina. My only grandchild and I can't see or talk to her. I called Haley's mother and pleaded with her; trying to plead to her sense of fairness; one grandmother to another. She had the nerve to laugh at me. I can't comprehend such cruelty."

"It runs in their family, mom. I never cheated on Haley, she cheated on me. All my letters to Tina have been returned unopened. I'm working with one of the jailhouse lawyers; maybe a judge will force Haley to allow me to communicate with my daughter."

My mother softened soon after that. She realized how much I was hurting and before the end of her visit, she began to show some love toward her only child. I didn't share the worse part of my incarceration and fortunately, she didn't ask. By the time she left, she promised to visit again.

I won't go into the details of those five years. I didn't rehabilitate, I didn't learn a new skill, I didn't come out a better man than when I went in. And except during one disastrous parole hearing, I learned to hide my emotions and what was in my heart, soul and mind.

During that first year as Iron Ron's cellmate, I spent every opportunity getting strong in the gym; taking my hate for Ron, Haley and Trent out on the weights. My six-one frame now held two-hundred and ten pounds of muscle. When Ron found a new playmate, Kevin Johansson arrived thirteen months after me, I was let go and now had to fend for myself.

The first time they came for me there were two of them. I got the shit kicked out of me; but those two ended up in the hospital. I ended up in 'special housing' for a month. The worse part? My first parole hearing was already scheduled for that month and wasn't rescheduled.

It took two more years before I met with the parole board. I answered their questions for twenty minutes before I lost it. Stupid me; I couldn't keep my mouth shut. After some self-righteous asshole asked why I never apologized for the abuse given to my ex-wife, I just blurted out all the venom in my soul.

"I was married to Haley for six years and never laid a hand on her. The only time I touched her in anger was when I pulled her hair to get her off his cock. She was fucking him in our bed! The only act of violence I committed before I came here was the stupid attack on her boyfriend. Because of that one stupid act, I was forced to suck cock to survive, I've been in a dozen fights to prevent being raped. Your system of 'justice' allowed her to falsely accuse me of abuse, take all our assets and make certain I couldn't hire a decent lawyer. Your system of 'justice' allows my bitch of an ex-wife to refuse me any contact with my daughter. And you've got the fucking nerve to ask why I haven't apologized for pulling her hair when I caught her fucking another guy in our bed? You people make me sick!"

Needless to say; I did the full five years. Five years of never hearing from my daughter; my suit to force Haley went nowhere. Five years of fighting for my life.

When I say no new skills were acquired, that's not exactly true, no new legitimate skills. I now knew how to use the Internet to fleece people of their money. I got a night job loading trucks at a local warehouse; it paid just above minimum wage, enough to stay off the streets. Days were spent on my new computer (using money saved during my years inside) developing my alter-ego, Amy Carson. Amy Carson was a widow who was intent on building a humane sanctuary for unwanted dogs and cats.

The "Save Our Furry Friends" website asked for monetary contributions. The tens of thousands email addresses collected over the past three years provided a mailing list of potential contributors. It didn't cost a cent to send out the first solicitation. The result was good; some cash came in, the checks and credit card information were sold to an off-shore criminal. After two months, I had twenty-one thousand dollars; more than enough for my first of two post-prison goals.

Candy Sweet sat on the bar stool looking like a vision. It was over six years since I last touched a woman. Over six years since anything other than my own hand touched my cock. Wanting the full experience, I went all out. I had the certificate from the clinic - I was clean - in my fist and seven hundred dollars in my pocket. I even dressed nice; slacks and a sport coat from the Goodwill store.

Candy turned and looked at me as I approached her. "Charlie?"

Her smile brightened the dark bar. The picture of her on the escort website wasn't airbrushed, she was just as beautiful in real life as her photo. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a cute nose and perfect teeth. She wore a sleeveless blouse that buttoned in the front; the top four buttons open to display a wonderful set of breasts held high. She wore a nice pair of slacks.

Why slacks instead of a skirt? Well, that was the reason I would be spending a night of bliss with such a beautiful escort for the obscenely low price of six-hundred-dollars, which included bare-back sex upon proof of a clean bill of health (plus tip - hence the seven-hundred dollars in my pocket). The slacks hid the fact that Candy had a prosthetic leg. It seems more than a few customers needed the whole deal and insisted on a discount when they saw her metal leg. I was more interested in what she had between her legs and although the prosthetic leg didn't make any difference to me; I was glad to save the extra couple hundred to bed such a beauty.

I asked the bartender for a shot of bourbon and sat next to Candy. She had some kind of drink in front of her already, something in a martini glass. I looked past her to see a guy on her right side giving me a dirty look. The last thing I needed was for this night to start out wrong.

BillandKate
BillandKate
2,483 Followers


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