Things My Mother Told Her

Hi folks. I have no idea what happened last week with the double posting. It was supposed to be another roughly four or five pager. This one is even shorter than last week and should be less than five pages, that is for all of you who actually bother to read the story. I'd like to thank as always mikothebaby for her usual editing prowess. SS06

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Like most guys, during my lifetime I've looked at some porn...okay, I've seen a lot of porn. But I've also been on the internet and read some of those divorce and cheating stories. I read them to help me deal with something I was going through at the time and to get a handle on how someone very close to me had to be feeling when he went through it.

I've always had my own opinions over the way the guys in the stories handled their wives and the guys they cheated with. And under no circumstances would anyone ever think that I'd be a cuck or a wimp. It is simply not in my nature. I always had a very strong opinion on exactly what I'd do in that situation, but I never thought I'd actually ever do it.

One reason is that most of us talk a lot of shit when we're not in that situation but when you're the person it happens to, everything you thought about, all of your tough assed bullshit goes out the window. When it's your heart that is being ripped still beating from your chest and not some fictional character's, everything is different.

Most of those stories start out with a guy coming home early to find a strange car in his driveway. In my case, I did come home early, but the car in my driveway was all too familiar to me.

Unlike those guys in the stories, I knew from halfway down the block that something was strange in the neighborhood. I parked my car a Mustang GT, three houses down the block and waved to my retired neighbor, Benson Dubois, whose house I parked in front of.

I walked down the block as quickly and as quietly as I could. I opened my front door as quietly as I could too. I heard the bed springs squeaking as soon as I got inside the house. My blood pressure must have shot up at least fifty points. But my brain was functioning clearly.

I knew that my wife was upstairs and I knew who she was upstairs with. I'd known the bastard since we were toddlers and we'd fought over Kathy until I finally just married her to end the competition.

On one hand, the news that Kathy was fucking the bastard was a shock to me. He and I had become good friends over the past twelve years since I married Kathy. There were a lot of guys who I thought at some time might've stabbed me in the back but he wasn't one of them. I guess I'd just learned the definition of frenemy.

On the other hand, it gave me the chance to do something I'd wanted to do for years. So I didn't go charging upstairs just yet. The man upstairs fucking my soon to be ex-wife was Josh Patterson. We'd grown up "three doors down" from each other and had known each other all our lives. He always thought of himself as some kind of Superman. We disagreed on everything and had always competed since the days of PAL football and little league baseball.

I liked action movies like every other red blooded American man (and all of the coolest women). He preferred French art films. Or at least he did on the surface. He was an asshole from the start. He was always the one on movie day in school who'd suggest some foreign film that none of us had ever heard of. It was only one of his attempts to prove his superiority over the rest of us. When we did see one of the movies he'd suggested, he was usually the one who didn't understand it. He'd also explain this by claiming that the version we'd seen was a remake and the original was far superior.

He loved European sedans and pretended to collect art. I love old school muscle cars and I drive new muscle. I may as well admit it to you now. I have an obsession with Mustangs. So as I crept silently back out my front door, I stopped off in my kitchen and grabbed a screwdriver, a hammer and a cup of sugar. I walked over to the BMW parked behind my Jeep.

With a relish I'd never have imagined, I plunged the screwdriver into the tires one after another. I smiled with glee hearing the air screaming out of the expensive rubber, protesting the invasion of its structural integrity. No one should ever treat a fine specimen of automobilia that way.

I looked around and made sure no one was looking. I thought I saw someone behind a tree but I couldn't be sure. I tried to open his gas tank door and found it was locked; screwdriver to the rescue. I pried the door open and removed the gas cap and pissed into his gas tank. Then I poured all of the sugar in after that.

I dropped the hammer on the ground. I figured I'd come back later for that. I crept back inside the house and quickly, but quietly moved up the stairs. I could hear Josh grunting and Kathy whining as I ascended the carpet covered stairs.

"You're not doing it right," she whined.

"But I'm doing it," he wheezed. "If you're so particular about what you want, just let Brian get you off when he gets home. Satisfying his wife is supposed to be HIS job. This is just for fun."

"Yeah, but so far you're the only one having fun," she snapped. "I think next time I'll pick someone else. I still don't know why you wanted to do this. You're supposed to be his friend."

"Brian and I have always competed for everything," he wheezed. It sounded like he was really out of breath. I knew from experience that it took a lot of stamina to get Kathy off. And it sounded like Josh needed to hit the gym more often.

"That bastard stole you away from me," he wheezed. "You were always my girl. He cheated and snatched you right out from my arms. Maybe we were friends on the surface, but I've been waiting for the right time to get back at that bastard and now I have. It feels really good. I feel really powerful; like a jungle animal. I'm the king of the jungle baby. Get down on your knees and suck my dick. When Brian comes home, I think you should just take a shower but don't clean up down there. Leave my stuff inside of you. Let that asshole have my sloppy seconds."

"Josh, your sperm is so thin and watery that it'll probably run out of me as soon as I stand up. And as for sucking your dick your highness, that won't happen until you get me off at least once. Are you out of practice or something?" asked Kathy. "Don't you and Pearl have sex regularly?"

"Even you can't spoil my mood Kathy," he said. "Nothing you can say affects me. I have stolen and fucked another man's woman. In the language of the jungle that only men understand, I have power over Brian now. Whenever we compete at anything, I'll have the edge, because I'll know deep down inside who is the better more virile man. I feel like a lion that just pounced on his defenseless prey."

"But you look more like a fly that just bounced off of a stinking turd," I said loud enough for them to hear. I'd been hiding behind the door taking video and snap shots with my iPhone. I intended to use the high def video and audio as my evidence in the divorce case. Unfortunately, Kathy didn't say anything incriminating that I could use against her. It wouldn't matter, I had what I needed. I carefully put my phone away and started moving towards the bed.

I immediately knew that there was something funny going on. I heard a mixture of screams and calming voices coming from the bed. Josh was screaming like a girl and Kathy was trying to calm me down. It really should have been the other way.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeee! Please don't hurt me! It was her fault, the evil bitch. She made me do it. She came after me. I'm a weak man Brian. I gave in to the sins of the flesh," screamed Josh, who towered over me and outweighed me by at least fifty pounds at two twenty five.

"Brian, calm down," said Kathy. "Honey this isn't what you think. If I wanted to cheat on you, I'd have picked something better than that."

"I am calm," I said as I punched Josh in the nose as hard as I could. His face turned bloody in an instant and he tried to hide under the covers next to Kathy. He fell off the bed on the other side and started trying to scramble to his feet, backing away from me.

"Josh, use your Karate," yelled Kathy as I advanced on him.

"Really Kath," I said. We'd both been forced to watch as Josh took a Karate class at the local YMCA along with his 6 year old son. Josh jumped into a stance with his fist held out and one leg behind the other like they did in his Karate class. His face took on a serious expression despite the blood flowing from his busted nose.

"Horse stance, now," I yelled just like his instructor did in class and laughably, Josh switched into a horse stance. The horse stance is ridiculous. You have both of your legs very far apart like you were riding a horse. Josh actually helped me. He did a little jump and came down lightly on the balls of his feet in a horse stance.

Imagine if you will, a two hundred twenty five pound man descending earthward propelled downwards by gravity. This man solidly impacts the rapidly rising foot of a man who weighs one hundred and seventy pounds, who's put everything he has into the kick. How many factors do we have here? Mass, Velocity, Gravity, Impact and Force. If you do the math...well fuck the math, when my foot hit Josh's nuts, he screamed so loud the guys on the international space station must've heard him.

Why does one man kick another man in the nuts, knowing how badly it would hurt? That's it exactly; because we know how hard it will hurt and we want the motherfucker to suffer. If someone calls you a name or pushes you, you don't kick them in the nuts. The nut kick is reserved for the worst scum of the universe. And at that moment, that was how I felt about Josh.

The kick must've been a good one. Not being a Karate guy, I'm no judge of kicks or kickness. But it felt solid and it got the desired response from my opponent. After that one long piercing scream, Josh dropped to his knees and then fell onto his face, writhing in pain and screaming, "My nuts. Oh God, my nuuuuuutzzz."

"Josh," I yelled to get his attention. He was still lying there on his side holding onto....well you know, right? Anyway he looked at me as he lay there vibrating, so I'm sure he understood me.

"You're right Josh," I said. "You're the better man. You took my woman away from me. I can't live with the shame so take the bitch with you. Get the fuck out of my house, now. Or I'll make the pain in your nuts seem like nothing."

He looked at me in confusion. But he was in too much pain to try to talk. He didn't have to though, because Kathy, clearly upset, leaped off the bed and tripped over Josh's still writhing body. Kathy is no sprite. Even at only five four to my five nine, she outweighs me by about twenty pounds. I truly believe that it was Kathy falling onto Josh that cracked his ribs and almost killed him.

"What are you talking about, Brian?" she asked. "This isn't the way this is supposed to go. We need to talk about this."

"You and Josh can talk about whatever the fuck you want," I said calmly. "But the only thing around here that needs to go is you."

"But...but...but," she began. Her eyes were rapidly filling with tears and her lips stuck out. Kathy is a reasonably attractive woman from the neck up. Until she starts crying that is. I think that's one of the reasons why throughout our twelve year marriage, I've constantly given in to her. She's ugly as hell when she cries.

"That was brilliant," I screamed. "You sounded just like a motorboat. Now but, but, but your ass out of my house."

"Brian, look at Josh," she said.

"I've seen that fat fucker too many times as it is," I said. But I turned to see what she was talking about. Josh was on the floor, turning blue. I ran over to him and started doing chest compressions.

"Move over," she said. "I weigh more than you do. I can do the compressions better. You breathe for him."

"Fuck you whore," I spat. "You fucked him, now you can blow him." As Kathy huffed away, I got an idea. I sat on Josh's chest and bounced up and down compressing it. In the meantime I called 911 on my iPhone. Once the call was over, I went back to doing the compressions the normal way. Before the ambulance got there, Josh regained consciousness. We...err...Kathy made him comfortable. I had a date with a hammer.

I went back outside and broke every pane of glass or plastic on that piece of Euro trash in my driveway. I stopped only to direct the paramedics inside the house and show them to where Josh was laid out.

"Holy fuck! He's a whale," said one of the EMTs. "Why is it that the fat fuckers always collapse upstairs," said his partner.

"Shit, he's already out of it. Let's just roll his fat ass down the stairs," said the first guy again. Then they looked at me as if they hadn't realized that I could hear them.

"Just joking sir," said the first guy again, throwing his words out from behind the shit eating grin he affected when he noticed me paying attention to their conversation.

"Oh my fucking back," said the second guy, as they lifted the back board with Josh on it.

"Why the fuck is this dude naked?" asked one.

"Fuck that," said the second guy. "Why are his nuts the size of softballs?"

"Why are you looking at his nuts?" countered the first guy again. "Are you switching teams?"

"Fuck you!" spat the first guy, almost dropping Josh in his anger.

"See, I knew you were a fruit," spat the second guy. "But it's okay. I'm open-minded. I can work with anyone; as long as they pull their weight."

"Shit, I only weigh a buck fifty nine. That fat chick's ass probably weighs more than me," said the first guy again. It was then that Kathy noticed that she was still naked.

As soon as the EMT's got Josh to the first floor they called us. "Is either of you going to ride to the hospital with him?" they asked.

"She'll meet you there," I said. "And I'll call his wife."

They got Josh into the ambulance and sped off with the siren blaring.

Kathy was looking at me timidly. "Get dressed and go to the hospital. Your lover probably needs you," I said.

"Brian, we need to talk about..." she began.

"Get your ass to the fucking hospital or wherever you're going," I spat. "After you're done checking on Josh, go stay with one of your friends. Don't come back here tonight, Kathy. I don't want to see or hear from you. I'm serious."

She got into her car and drove off after the ambulance. I went back outside with murder still left on my mind. When I got outside, I was disappointed. There was pretty much nothing left of the car to destroy. Benson and several of my other neighbors were all taking sledge hammers to it.

"I've always hated that motherfucker," smiled Benson, flashing me a grin. "I can't believe he has the balls to come sneaking around your place while you're not at home. They carried his ass out of here on a stretcher."

"Did he see any of you?" I asked.

"Yeah, but what was he going to do?" asked Clayton Endicott, another septuagenarian retiree. "Was he going to get off of that stretcher and get his ass beaten again?"

I just shrugged my shoulders and went back into the house. I called a locksmith and had him come right over and change all of the locks on my doors. I reprogrammed the garage remote and put my car back in the garage. I made myself a sandwich and started scrolling through ads on the internet to find myself a good lawyer.

Boy was I pissed to find out that it wasn't nearly as easy as they talk about in those fucking stories. I remembered those ads I've heard on the radio for ADAM. They're a divorce group that specializes in handling divorces for men. "Yessssssss," I hissed with an evil gleam in my eye. I was going to call ADAM and we were going to fuck that worthless whore. Me and ADAM would nail her cheating ass to the god damned wall. Fueled by my anger and righteous indignation, I called them. ADAM would feel my pain.

I knew that bonded by the spirit of fraternity and male bonding I would find solace with ADAM. After all they were men, they could understand this. I quickly found out the truth when a woman answered the phone. Then the bitch put me on hold. I think I ate twice and shaved before she picked the phone back up. Yep ADAM is a divorce association for men just like it says in their commercials...Rich men. There was no way, I could ever afford them. After listening to the guy talk, it felt like I was going to get fucked three times. Once, by Kathy and Josh, the second time by the court system and the third time by ADAM. And not being gay there was no way ADAM was fucking me. I quickly hung up the phone.

Besides, the guy I'd spoken to over the phone had already given me enough information to realize that no matter what I did, the cheapest way out of this would be to take Kathy's cheating ass back. Any other alternative would cost me more money than the cheating whore was worth.

I sat down on the couch and started to ponder my options. Realizing that Kath wasn't there, I put my feet up on her favorite couch. "Fuck her and this couch," I said out loud. Then I kicked one of her throw pillows onto the floor.

I didn't get much thinking done before I fell asleep. I woke up and looked at the clock and realized that I'd slept for nearly an hour. It was almost six p.m. I ran upstairs and changed into my running clothes and headed to the park to run.

When I got to the park, I noticed that one of the older guys who always ran at about the same time I did was in the park. I waved at him, the way I always did and he waved back but he seemed sad. And come to think of it I hadn't seen him in the park in over a week. While I ran, I thought about the divorce. Kathy should have realized that I was not the kind of person to have pulled this shit on. She knew my history and my family's.

I guess she just couldn't resist Josh. After all of those years, maybe she just never got over him. Maybe this was just her way of having her cake and eating it too. And I couldn't believe that Josh would do that either. Not that he was any great friend of mine. We became friends because we were the last men standing more than anything else. Everyone else we'd grown up with had moved away.

The reason that I thought it was stupid was because Josh was married too. And his wife was hot. Josh was married to Pearl Christian. I don't know how he talked her into marrying him, but that woman was the stuff that dreams were made of. She was slim, blond, and pretty and the sweetest woman ever made. Why he'd cheat on her with my pear shaped goofball of a wife was beyond me. But then I remembered that there was an article I'd read that said that most people always cheated downwards.

Josh cheated with a woman who was nowhere near as attractive as his wife. Hey, if the article was correct, it meant that I was better than Josh. I love the internet. After a couple of yucks, I got serious. I decided that maybe instead of taking the traditional path, I might have to go JPB on that bitch.

JPB is Just Plain Bob. He's one of my favorite writers and he has a knack for exposing the truth. One of the things that Bob has written about quite a lot is the fact that men can't trust the courts when it comes to getting a fair shake in a divorce. Nine times out of ten, the poor guy ends up in a tiny crappy apartment eating tuna for the rest of his life, even when he wasn't the person in the wrong. He ends up paying for his worthless wife, who usually ends up moving her lover into their house so he can support both of them. Shit, I'd kill them both first.

If this was a Just Plain Bob story, I'd have a hare-brained scheme that would end up with both of them being ridden out of town on a rail after being tarred and feathered by the whole town. I would also end up fucking Pearl and she'd fall in love with me. Unfortunately, this being reality, no one in town gave a fuck about what they'd done except me and maybe a few of my semi-senile neighbors who really just needed something to do after Jerry Springer went off.