I did It for My Husband	Back to E	Back to main page

Collected by Djian
updated nov 13 - 2009

Another story by Vulgus
Vulgus Collection

Comments? Criticism? Email vulgus@hotmail.com
itdidforhusband_9Story codes: M/f, D/s, IR, bnd, Humil, coer, exhib, wimp, beast, ws.

To that small group of disturbed people who have enjoyed my
previous efforts and encouraged me, thank you.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

I Did It for My Husband
by Vulgus

Chapter 10


But how? I didn't have any idea how to end it. I've never contemplated suicide before. Some of the methods I was aware of were easy to rule out. I didn't have any kind of drugs I could take and I didn't have money to buy them with.

I didn't think I could slit my wrists. I'm still the girl that is afraid of needles. There is no way I could slice myself open. Besides, the sight of blood makes me ill.

I don't have a gun and I've never fired one. But I can't see myself shooting myself. It is so violent!

I was interrupted by Gary hollering at me to come out and make his supper. I shut off the water and dried off quickly. I went out to the kitchen and made supper. I think that Gary thought I was still dazed by what happened to me.

I was just preoccupied.

I ate a few bites. But I wasn't hungry. My body hurt too much for me to have an appetite. Jimmie came in after Gary finished eating. I made a plate for him and then I cleaned up the kitchen while he ate.

It was almost ten o'clock before Jimmie finished eating and I put the last of the dishes away. Gary took me to bed. Thankfully he wasn't interested in anything too athletic.

I watched him undress. He placed a large pile of cash on the dresser. He saw me looking at it and smiled. He said, "I think you and me are going to start a new business. This is what your friends gave me for those two movies they ordered. I'm going to have to look into selling them in porn shops or on the internet. I can see where I could make a lot of money out of this.

Gary stretched out on his back and demanded a blowjob. I obeyed instantly. Even now that I knew it was almost over I was too afraid of him to refuse. After he came in my mouth he rolled over and covered up. I told him I had to go to the bathroom.

I went across the hall and peed. I brushed my teeth and as I was staring at myself in the mirror I suddenly knew what I was going to do. I went back into the bedroom. Jimmie was in his usual place, curled up on the floor in the corner. He had been kept pretty busy today and I guess they tired him out. He was already asleep.

I got into bed with Gary. He didn't even turn over. I listened to him breathing evenly until he began to snore quietly. That was what I was waiting for. I gave him a few more minutes, just to be on the safe side. When I was certain that both of them were sleeping soundly I got up as quietly as I possibly could. I grabbed the cash from the dresser and went out to the kitchen.

I listened for a moment. There were no sounds from the bedroom. I quietly opened the garage door and went to the boxes that contained all of our belonging. I dug out a decent dress, some underwear and a pair of comfortable shoes. I put everything on but the shoes and went back into the kitchen. I picked up the money and tiptoed to the front door. Jimmie's keys were hanging on a peg there, as was my purse.

I took my purse and Jimmie's keys and quietly opened the front door. I slipped my shoes on and ran across to our old house. Jimmie's car was still in the driveway. It hadn't been started in almost a week. But it has always been reliable and I was sure that it would.

I got in and was just about to start the car when I thought of something. Most of our belongings were still in boxes stacked in the back bedroom. It was silly. It didn't matter now. But the only thing I owned that meant anything to me now was the box with the six books by R. Wayne Phillips. Gary would just throw them away now. I couldn't stand the thought of those books ending up in the trash. They had meant too much to me.

I got out of the car and quietly went into our old house. I didn't turn the lights on. I stood inside the front door for a moment while the events of this afternoon ran through my mind like a horrible movie.

I finally shook myself and tiptoed to the back bedroom as if someone might hear me. I grabbed the box with my books and took it out to the car. All the time I knew it was silly. I wasn't ever going to read them again. I didn't have time. But I couldn't leave them here. It was as if I had to save the only thing left in my life to which I had an emotional attachment.

The car started up right away when I turned the key and I backed out and drove slowly down the street.

I spent more time looking in the rearview mirror than I did looking out the windshield. But it was late and there wasn't much traffic on our street at night.

I drove to a gas station near the Interstate and filled up the gas tank. I counted the money I had stolen. Well, I suppose that technically I had stolen it. I felt like I had earned it.

Gary must not have been charging very much for those DVDs. There was only twelve hundred dollars. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough. In retrospect I suppose that it was more than my lousy life was worth.

I wasn't planning on starting a new life. It wasn't my intention to find a place to start over. My life was over now so I didn't need a lot of money. I just wanted to get far away from here before I died. I didn't want it to end here. I'm not even sure why. But for some reason it was important to me. I needed to get away from this town and these people before I died.

I planned to drive all night. I didn't want there to be any chance of Gary finding me if he came after me. But I was just too tired. I had been through too much. I drove until three in the morning and then pulled off and got a room in a cheap motel.

I was a little nervous. I've never gone into a motel and rented a room before. But I had to wake the clerk up in order to register and he was so groggy that he hardly looked at me. He was a little bit put out that I paid in cash. He apparently didn't get many customers that don't have credit cards. But he finally just shrugged and handed me the key.

I undressed, went to the bathroom and then fell into bed at about three-thirty. I was asleep in seconds. Now that I knew it was over, that I wouldn't suffer any longer, I was much more relaxed.

I had some strange dreams that night. But at least they didn't include rape and degradation. It was the best night of sleep I have gotten in a very long time.

I didn't sleep very well even before Gary took control of my life. There has always been the stress of poverty in my life. I was raised by a single mom who normally had to work at two jobs to make ends meet. A lot of her jobs were temporary and in later years her illness made it hard for her to hold a job.

I had to constantly struggle for enough money to live on after the state put my mother in a nursing home. I was close enough to eighteen by the time she finally had to be committed that I never had to go into the foster care system. But the little bit of public assistance I qualified for just barely allowed me to eat one good meal a day and keep the lights turned on.

There was a brief respite when I married Jimmie. He started out making pretty good money. Our lives seemed to be nearly perfect ... until he stole a fucking five dollar stapler!

Then the money problems started again. And then there was Gary.

I awoke at nine that morning more rested than I have been in a very long time. I took a long, hot shower without worrying about how many people would rape me today or how many people would see me naked or grope my vulnerable body while I stood helplessly and tried to act like it was fine with me.

I no longer had to worry about the content of Sheryl's website or about the party that Gary had planned for me this weekend with the bikers. I could relax and look for a nice place to die.

I checked out of my room and got directions to a small diner nearby. I bought a road atlas and ordered a cup of coffee and a bagel. I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while I studied the large map of all fifty states in the front of the atlas.

I knew where I was going as soon as I looked at the map. I have always wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge at night. I could drive across the country at a leisurely pace, stop for a nice meal in the evening and spend the night in a nice motel. If it took me five or even six days to cross the country I would still have money in my pocket when I reached the bridge. I would climb up on the railing, close my eyes, and it would all be over in less than a minute.

I was almost looking forward to it!

It did take me six days. I took my time and stopped when I got tired. I stopped at a small shopping center and bought enough clothes to allow me a fresh outfit every day. I bought an overnight bag and some toiletries. I found it amusing that I would never again be doing laundry.

I avoided driving through any large cities around rush hour. I have never driven in a large city and they scare me.

I stayed in the nicest motels I could find and ate some wonderful meals on the trip. It was my first real vacation. I didn't do any sightseeing. I was tempted a couple of times. But even though the trip was turning out to be quite pleasant, I was, after all, on my way to my death. There was only one thing I really wanted to see.

I had studied the atlas and I planned my arrival so that I could drive across the Golden Gate Bridge late in the evening. I had located an observation area on the map that looked like it provided a good place to get a last look at the bridge.

It was a confusing drive for a small town girl. But I really wanted to see the bridge from a distance when it was all lit up at night. That was why I drove across the country instead of driving head on into a bridge abutment at top speed and ending it all that first day.

I came in from the north on I-80, took I-780 and then I-580 to Highway 1. I drove through the outskirts of Sausalito to the Golden Gate National Recreation Area until I came to a place called Golden Gate Bridge Vista Point.

I parked there with the intention of enjoying the view for a little while. Then I would drive across the bridge and park as close as I could on the San Francisco side. I would leave the car there and walk back to a likely place on the bridge and end it all.

I was exhausted when I finally arrived. Even late at night it had been a hectic drive. But it was worth it. The view was breathtaking. There were quite a few cars already there when I arrived. I parked as far from everyone else as I could. I got out and sat on the hood of Jimmie's car and stared at the bridge for so long that I lost all track of time.

I realized that even now, even now that I was here and about to end my life, I still wasn't afraid. My miserable life was almost at an end and I was happy about that.

I stared at the bridge for so long that time kind of got away from me. I wasn't even aware that the area I was parked in had all but emptied out. I wasn't aware when someone drove in and parked nearby. Well, I was aware of someone parking nearby. But I didn't pay them any mind. The newcomers didn't bother me. I continued to stare at what I had come to think of as my salvation.

It was probably ten minutes after the car pulled up and parked several spaces away from me that a hand holding a bottle of beer appeared in front of my face.

I was startled, but not scared. I smiled and said, "No thanks."

A calm, self assured, gentle masculine voice said, "Go ahead, you look like you could use a drink."

I finally turned to see who was offering me a beer. At first I only saw his eyes. They drew my gaze and were so compelling that at first I couldn't stop staring. It was several second before I widened my view and took in the man.

I found myself reaching out and taking the proffered beer without making the conscious decision to change my mind. And yet once I had it in my hand I felt grateful. I really was kind of thirsty. It had been a long day. A cold beer would be nice.

I smiled and thanked him.

He just smiled.

He didn't talk. He didn't try to hit on me. He didn't say or do any of the foolish things that so many guys do when they see a girl and they want to meet her. He just turned and leaned against the fender of my car and stared at the bridge with me.

When he turned away I suppressed a shiver. Christ he is handsome! If only I'd met him before Gary destroyed me!

The funny thing was he looked strangely familiar. I knew that I didn't know him. But I couldn't think of who in my life he reminded me. It didn't really matter though.

We sipped our beers in silence and somehow it started to feel nice to have someone nearby as my life was about to end. Even if it was a stranger. We slowly sipped our beers and when they were gone he took the empty bottle from me and went to his car for two more.

We were half way through the second beer when he finally spoke again. He didn't turn to look at me. In his strong, quiet voice that sent chills down my spine he said, "They have made it nearly impossible to jump now, unless you are an athlete. You won't be able to just climb over the railing and let go."

HE KNEW!!

I think I gasped when he spoke. But I didn't say anything.

After a short pause he said, "I first saw the bridge from here six years ago. I came here to see it before I jumped. It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

He turned to look at my shocked face. I found myself nodding.

He glanced down at my beer. Satisfied that I still had half a beer remaining he turned back to the bridge and continued to stare down at it with me in silence.

He didn't speak again. We slowly finished our drinks and he went to his car for refills.

I'm not sure where I got the nerve. I heard myself asking, "What happened? Did the fence stop you?"

He shook his head. There was a long pause and then he said, "I was parked where I'm parked now, sitting on my hood and staring at the bridge. I was actually looking forward to it. I looked out at the bridge and it comforted me. The pain was about to end. And there suddenly appeared before my eyes a hand holding a cold beer.

A man handed me a beer and then just leaned up against my car and we drank together in silence for a long time. He knew why I was here. He knew because that was why he had first come here several years earlier."

"Did he talk you out of it?" I asked.

He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully for a moment and said, "No. He just kept me company. He stood there and handed me a cold beer every now and then until I felt like talking. I think it made a difference that he understood what I was feeling. He never said any of the stupid things that people say to a person that wants to make the pain stop, forever.

We talked for a long time. Then he took me for a ride across the bridge. Have you been on it yet?"

I shook my head.

He glanced at me for a moment. I got the feeling he was trying to figure me out. But he didn't ask me anything. He said, "It isn't quite as romantic when you are on it. The view is better from up here. There is also a good view from the other side, down in the park."

I asked, "Do you come here often? Or is that none of my business?"

He shook his head and said, "This is the first time I've been back since that night. That was six years ago tonight. I came here to ... I'm not actually sure why I came to be honest. I felt that I had to. I had to make peace with the past and I had to do it here.

As soon as I saw you sitting there I knew you didn't just come here for the view. I can't say how I knew. But in an instant I knew why you had come.

I live in Nevada now. I have a little place on Lake Tahoe. I have a new life, or at least a running start at one. I have finally put the past behind me."

I knew what he was trying to do. He thought that if he could get me to talk about my problems he could do for me what that man did for him six years ago. He didn't understand that I was already dead. I have already been destroyed.

He reached out and took my empty beer bottle from my hands. I looked up and saw him looking knowingly into my eyes again.

God! I love his eyes!

He smiled and said, "I know what you are thinking. I'll bet you a beer that I was just as fucked up as you are. I was going to jump off that bridge to be with my fiancé. She was killed on the way to our wedding. I could not be consoled. My life was over."

I felt the tears well up as he told me why he came here to die. It was a horrible tragedy. I don't know if you could compare the things that drove us to this overlook, to that bridge. But I knew that he couldn't understand what had happened to me. I doubt if any man could.

He went to his car and returned with two more beers. I smiled and said, "Thank you. But if you keep doing this, neither one of us will be able to drive away. I'm not much of a drinker."

He smiled in return and said, "I've spent the night in worse places."

We were silent again for several minutes. I was determined that I was not going to tell him why I was here. It wasn't the kind of story you share with someone. It was an entirely different kind of tragedy than the one that had brought him to this place. How do you tell a man, a handsome, caring, kind man, that you have been destroyed? How does a woman tell someone that she has just spent most of a week being raped almost constantly? What expression would I see on his face if I told him that I had allowed myself to be gangbanged by at least fifty men? Would he still stand here and drink beer with me if he knew that I had been fucked by two large mutts, not once but twice? I don't think so. I would see the disgust on his face that I felt for myself. I didn't want to see that.

So I couldn't believe it when I heard myself begin to tell him what had happened to me since early childhood when my father left my mother and me alone.

He stood there and stared at the bridge with me and he listened in silence as I told him my entire, miserable life story. I left out the nasty details of course. That shortened the story considerably. But I told him everything. Then I waited for him to turn so that I could see the disgust on his face.

I was shocked when he finally straightened up and turned to face me. His eyes were moist and the look of sympathy on his face was almost overwhelming. He reached out and took my hand and said, "I imagine that the last thing you need right now is some strange man touching you. But I feel an irresistible urge to take you in my arms and try to comfort you."

It came as a surprise to me. But at that moment I was shocked to realize that I would love to have his arms around me, holding me and comforting me. I didn't understand it myself. I didn't even know his name!

I looked into his eyes and whispered, "How could you even stand to touch me?! They destroyed me. I can't stand myself. I'll never be clean again."

He must have seen the need in me. He put his beer down and he took mine from my hand. He lifted me off the hood of the car as if I was weightless and his strong arms held me so gently. And somehow I felt so safe there.

My brain was spinning out of control. Thoughts bounced around in my head like ricocheting bullets. How could any decent man even stand to touch me? How could I feel what I'm feeling about any man at this strange moment? How could I enjoy being held like this after what I've been through? For only a fleeting moment I wondered if maybe I could go on after all. But then I realized that I could never live down the things that I have done or had done to me.

That was when the flood gates opened and I lost control. I held him as if my life depended on it and I cried like a scared little girl.

He didn't say anything stupid. He didn't say everything was going to be alright. He didn't say anything trite or condescending. He seemed to know just what not to say.

He held me long after I stopped crying. It felt good. I didn't want him to let go. I felt safe for the first time. I had never gotten this feeling with Jimmie. I can't remember ever feeling this way before! Or at least, I can't remember feeling like this since the day my father left us. Life with Jimmie had been fun at first. But he was never my protector. He never made me feel as safe as I felt in the arms of this perfect stranger.

It was hard to understand. I knew nothing about this man. He could be a serial killer. But I knew that he wasn't. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

I finally whispered, "Thank you. I guess I needed that."

He squeezed me gently and then relaxed his hold. I leaned back and saw the large wet spot on his shirt where my tears had soaked in. I groaned and said, "I'm sorry."

He chuckled and said, "I'm not. You felt nice in my arms."

I looked up and was surprised to see that he looked slightly uncomfortable. He grinned sheepishly and said, "I haven't held a woman in my arms since..."

I was so caught up in my own tragedy that his had slipped my mind! I gasped and exclaimed, "I'm sorry! I didn't ... I don't want ... oh god! I'm so sorry!"

He shook his head and said, "It's alright. I told you, it felt nice. I was afraid that after what you've been through you would be uncomfortable."

I blushed and admitted, "I haven't felt that safe since I was a little girl. There is something about you that is ... comfortable. I feel like I can trust you. I like the way you hold me.

Oh shit! That sounds awful! You must think I'm..."

He laughed and said, "I think you are very sweet. I'm not sure how I feel about being called comfortable. I don't think anyone has ever called me that before."

We looked at each other for a long moment before he said, "There's something we seem to have overlooked. I just realized that I don't know your name. My name is Ross, by the way."

I liked that. Ross. The name fit him. He looked like a Ross. I backed up a step, held out my hand and said, "Hello, Ross. My name is Kendra. It's a pleasure meeting you."

We shook hands and then he lifted me back up onto the hood of my car and set me down effortlessly. After that we talked and we listened. We talked about our lives and our feelings. We talked about books and movies. I told him all about my favorite author and the fact that the only thing I took with me when I left to come here was his six books. He seemed to find that amusing. And we talked about hopes and dreams. Well, he did. I didn't have any hopes or dreams.

And suddenly we were watching the sun come up! I never expected to see the sun come up again!

We watched it until it cleared the horizon. But we didn't watch it like you normally watch a sunrise. We didn't look to the east. We watched the light as it began to shine on the bridge and the bay and the buildings of San Francisco.

It was breathtaking. And when the light show was over, Ross said, "I know a great place in town for breakfast. Since you're here you might as well let me show you around."

I didn't even have to think about it. I took my purse from my car and locked it. I started to follow Ross to his car when a thought struck me. I came to a sudden stop. When he turned to see why I had stopped I asked, "Where do you suppose that a person intending to jump off the bridge would park?"

I saw the concern on his face. I smiled and said, "I don't know if they will bother to try to find me. But if the police call Jimmie and tell him they found my car near the bridge it will give them a reason to stop looking sooner. It's my husband's car. I don't even like to drive."

He laughed and said, "Get in and follow me."

I followed him across the bridge and through some narrow, deserted residential streets back to the waterfront park on the San Francisco side. After removing the small box of books in the back seat and my overnight bag I put the keys under the seat and locked the car. I didn't really care what happened to it now.

Ross put my box and my overnight bag in his trunk. He saw the rueful look on my face and knew what I was thinking. I had nowhere to go. He smiled and said, "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

I got in his car. He even held the door for me. I don't know much about cars. The car he was driving looked like nothing more than a large sedan to me. But from the moment I was half way inside I knew that I had never been in a car like this before. The look, the feel, the smell, this was not a car that belonged to someone from my social strata. This was pure luxury.

He closed the door and went around to the driver's side. He buckled up and started it and I asked, "What kind of car is this? It's beautiful!"

He seemed uncomfortable with the question. He stared straight ahead and answered, "It's a British car. I have a friend who owns the dealership. He gave me a good deal."

"A Jaguar?" I asked.

He replied, "No. It's a Bentley Mulsanne."

I nodded as if that meant something to me and said, "It's very beautiful."

We drove through the city with Ross pointing out things along the way that he thought I might find interesting. He finally pulled up in front of a hotel and parked.

He turned to me and sounded slightly nervous when he said, "Don't panic. It isn't what you probably think. I'm staying here. I thought we'd leave the car here and walk a block to the cable car. You can't visit San Francisco and not ride the cable cars."

I smiled wryly and said, "I didn't think you were going to try to get me to go to your room. I can't imagine any man wanting me now."

The doorman was holding my door open. I turned and started to get out when Ross grabbed my arm and pulled me back around to face him. He looked furious!

Before I could ask him what was wrong he hissed, "Don't you ever say that again! Don't you ever think a horrible thing like that! You are beautiful and desirable and any man in his right mind would want you."

I shook my head sadly and said, "No. Not after they hear what happened to me. Not any man I know."

Before I had time to react his hand went behind my head and he pulled me close. He was kissing me passionately before I had a clue what he was going to do.

I struggled for a moment. But I didn't want to. My struggles were weak and short lived. I had just spent one of the most pleasant evenings of my life with this man. I wanted him to kiss me. I didn't understand why he would want damaged goods like me. But it felt so nice to be back in his arms again.

This handsome, charming, sensitive yet strong young man had gone a long ways towards healing me. I wasn't there yet. But I no longer contemplated ending my life. And he had done it more by listening and caring than anything else.

So I didn't mind at all when he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

We kissed for a very long time before he looked down at me to see how I felt about it. He saw the tears in my eyes. But he saw my smile and he knew they were tears of happiness. I didn't understand him. I know that I have never met another man like him. But I felt my heart growing and pounding loudly in my chest and I saw sunshine all around me. This was a new life. My old life was over. My life began at sunrise this morning.

I buried my face against his neck and sighed loudly. Through my tears I managed to say, "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you. You are definitely not normal. You aren't like any man I've ever met. But if you can stand to kiss a girl like me I'm not ever letting go of you."

He squeezed me tight and said, "If you ever say 'a girl like me' again in that tone of voice I will spank you right then and there."

I laughed and asked, "Is that a promise?"

He whispered, "I promise. Now get the hell out of my car. Let's go get breakfast!"

I sat up and the doorman opened my door again. I got out and smiled at him. I shrugged and said, "Sorry."

He smiled sweetly and shook his head. He said, "Never apologize for being in love!"

In love?! No, that can't be. Infatuated maybe. Certainly grateful. But love is something that grows with time. Love is something you work at. Isn't it?

Ross came around the car and tossed his keys to the doorman. He looked at him sternly and growled, "Remember what I told you. No faster than five miles an hour!"

The door man stood there, obviously falsely accused of abusing the car. Then he smiled and said, "That reminds me, my girl friend loves your car. You wouldn't believe the things she does to me in the back seat of that car!"

Ross laughed and said, "Just don't have a heart attack you old fart!"

As we walked away I said, "I believe him. That is the sexiest car I've ever ridden in."

Ross chuckled and reached out for my hand. I can't recall Jimmie holding my hand since we said 'I do' two years ago. I'm trying not to keep comparing Ross to Jimmie. It isn't that Ross doesn't come out ahead every time. It's just that I don't want to keep thinking about that son of a bitch and what he put me through ... or allowed others to put me through.

We had an amusing ride on the cable car. We enjoyed an amazing breakfast. And we talked as if we had known each other for years. At times I almost forgot how and why I ended up in San Francisco. I didn't even notice how tired I was!

After breakfast he invited me back to his hotel. He assured me that he would get me my own room. The funny thing is that a week and a half ago, before I met Gary, I would have been upset if a man invited me to his hotel. Now, even though I understood that he was trying to treat me with kid gloves after hearing what I had been through, I didn't want my own room!

We were walking back toward the cable car turn-about to catch a car back to the hotel. He was holding my hand and I knew how he felt about me. I didn't understand it. But I think perhaps we had a special bond because of the way we met and the things we have been through.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled him around to face me. I moved closer and put my arms around him. Looking up into his handsome face I said, "I don't want my own room."

He looked at me for a moment and I saw the concern in his eyes. But then he smiled. He understood. He leaned down and kissed me gently. Then we continued on towards the cable car. We had reached an understanding. All without him ever saying a word. It was as if there was a strange but wonderful telepathic connection we shared.

We rode back to the place where we jumped on the cable car a couple of hours ago with his arm around my shoulders and my head resting on his. I had to keep fighting back tears of happiness. I felt giddy! I have never felt giddy before in my life!

We walked the block to his hotel. The smiling doorman held the door for us. As we entered, Ross growled, "You better not be leaving stains in those seats, Jerry!"

I laughed and then I felt a warm glow when the doorman responded as if he was totally serious, "Don't worry, Ross. We always use a towel."

I thought it said something special about Ross that he and the doorman addressed each other by their first names. I was willing to bet that the doorman didn't call anyone else at this posh hotel by their first name or joke about using their cars for love nests.

And then we stepped inside. Posh had been an understatement! This place was a palace! Everyone else we saw was wearing an obviously expensive suit or a dress that cost more than most people earned in six months.

The huge, elegant main room looked like some wealthy Arab potentate's palace. There were overstuffed chairs and settees everywhere I looked, all done in silk or leather. I got the feeling that I didn't belong here. I just knew that someone would walk up to me at any moment, look down at me sternly and ask me to leave.

Ross had my hand in his. He walked as casually as if he owned the place. He led me to the elevator and the elevator operator took us to the top floor without even asking. He smiled at us and said hello to Ross.

Ross wished him a good morning and introduced us. I blushed. Here I was going to the room of a man I had just met. And yet I couldn't help being impressed once more that Ross would take the time to treat the little old black man operating the elevator, Oscar, like an old friend.

Oscar even chided Ross for staying out all night and worrying people at the hotel. Ross promised that if he was going to stay out all night again he would warn someone.

When the doors opened and we stepped out we were standing in a marble foyer. There were only two doors opening off of the foyer. Ross opened one and we stepped into a huge, richly decorated suite with its own private patio that looked out over the city. I had never even imagined anything like this existed!

He showed me around and asked me if I wanted a drink. I shook my head and asked if he minded if I took a shower. He smiled and joked, "Would you like someone to scrub your back?"

I returned his smile and answered, "Yes, very much."

Only I wasn't joking.

That look of concern returned to his face. I moved closer and put my arms around him again. I hugged him, holding my body pressed tight to his and said, "I know that you are worried that this is all too much and it is happening much too fast for a girl that has been through what I have. But there is something special about you. If it was any other man in the world I wouldn't be in this room with you right now. I know in my heart that you are the man I was meant to be with. I only regret that I am coming to you like this. I wish I wasn't damaged before I found you. But maybe that needed to happen, too. Maybe those things had to happen to me. I don't know.

I just know that this is right. I'm not the woman that I was a week and a half ago. I don't understand why a wonderful man like you would want to be with a woman like me. It goes against everything I know about people, about men.

It may be that in the greater scheme of things I needed to go through what I did before I came here to be with you. I don't believe in the existence of god. But I believe we were meant to be together. I have been through a lot lately. But I have never let a man take me to his hotel before. Maybe I'm a better person now because of what happened to me. I must admit that you probably wouldn't have liked me if you had met me two weeks ago. I was an uptight, narrow minded little twit.

I'm still a twit. But I'm not nearly as uptight and narrow minded now."

He gazed lovingly into my eyes until I finished speaking. Then he asked, "I'm sorry. Did you just say that you wanted me to wash your back?"

I hugged him as hard as I could. Then I stepped back and led him to the bedroom. I turned to face him and asked, "Are you sure about this? After everything I told you, are you sure about this?"

He smiled and said, "If you think you are ready, I have no reservations. I'm only worried that it's too soon, that it will stir up unpleasant memories that haven't had a chance to scab over yet."

I started unbuttoning my blouse. As I undressed in front of him I said, "I think I need this. I think I need to be with you to cleanse my soul. Whether that's true or not, I have never met a man that I found so desirable. I want you, Ross. I've never said that to a man before. I've never felt the way I feel now about anyone else. I don't want to scare you. But from about our second beer together I have known you were special. I want you and I need you very much."

He stepped closer and took over the job of undressing me. He slowly unbuttoned my blouse and removed it. As he did he looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm not special. But I feel the same way about you. I have not been with a woman since my fiancé was killed. I have never wanted anyone else before now. I feel it, too. There is something about us, about the two of us together that is right.

But I worry that you have too high an opinion of me, that you expect too much of me. I'm just a man. I am not special."

I was amazed at how natural I felt as he undressed me. I didn't feel the least bit self conscious as he gazed down at my body from time to time and I saw how much he wanted me. It sent chills of pleasure shooting through me.

HE WANTS ME!

While he reached around behind me and slowly unbuttoned my skirt, I reached up and cupped his cheeks. Our eyes met again and I said, "You are special. I'm dying to tell you that I love you, even though I know that you cannot fall in love in sixteen hours and even though I know that men are terrified when a woman says that to them.

You are special in so many ways. I love the way you treat people. We have talked since yesterday evening and I know that I know more about you than I do about the man I went to school with for thirteen years and have been married to for two years. I love everything I have learned about you. You are caring and compassionate and smart and handsome. You are the best listener I've ever met."

My skirt fell to the floor at my feet and I kicked it away. While he began to fumble with the catch on my bra I started unbuttoning his shirt.

He managed to release my bra but he held it in place over my breasts. He smiled down at me and said, "You are right about some things. I feel the connection, too. Now that I have met you I think that the reason I have never been able to get close to anyone since my fiancé was killed is that I was supposed to wait for you. I'm an atheist, too. I don't believe in fate or preordination. But this feels like it was meant to be. And before I uncover those breasts and I lose the ability to speak, I want you to know that I am pretty certain that I love you."

I grinned and reached up to pull my bra away, exposing my breasts to his appreciative eyes. It was such a relief when I saw the look of love in his eyes. I may never understand it. I still can't believe that a man would want me after what I went through. And he knows about all of it. But he does. He wants me. He loves me. I see it in his eyes. I feel it in his touch as his gentle hands close over my sensitive breasts.

My eyes close and I sigh. Our lips meet again and I know that everything is alright now. And it is always going to be.

We stood there, holding each other desperately and kissing for a very long time before we finished undressing. We couldn't seem to separate. We both needed to hold onto each other. It was as if we were afraid that if we let go it wouldn't be real. But it was real. It is real.

We finally separated, reluctantly. He bent down and slid my panties off, pausing to kiss the lips of my sex before straightening up. I watched his face and I saw the love and the desire and I wanted him so much. But even better than that, I saw that he wanted me.

I undressed him with a lot less restraint than he showed when removing my clothing. I all but tore his clothes off. And as I pushed his jockeys down his strong legs I paused to kiss his incredibly hard and throbbing cock and then take the entire seven inches into my mouth in one smooth stroke.

He gasped and shuddered and I knew that after six years of abstinence I could have brought him to an orgasm in only seconds. It was obvious that he was only a heartbeat away.

I looked up and saw the concern in his eyes. My first intention was to tease him a little longer. I was going to make him wait until after our shower. But I couldn't wait. I didn't want to now. I wanted to taste him. And I wanted him to know that it was okay. He was still afraid for me. He needed to know that I wanted this, too.

So I reached up and cupped his large, heavy balls in my hand and teased them with my fingertips while I worked my tongue and my lips up and down his beautiful cock. In less than a minute I felt him shudder and his cock throbbed violently. He groaned and whispered, "Kendra! I'm going to..."

He tried to pull away but I wouldn't let him. I wrapped my free arm around his body. I got a grip on his firm butt and refused to release him as my mouth filled with his hot cum as fast as I could swallow it.

I moaned in ecstasy when I tasted his cum. It was delicious! Well, to be honest, it had almost no flavor at all. It totally lacked that bitter, bleachy taste I had gotten so used to in the five days I spent as a sex slave to Gary and ... well, damned near every other man in two small towns.

After I swallowed the last of his cum I held his still hard cock in my mouth lovingly until his eyes opened. He looked down at me and when I saw the look in his eyes I almost had my own orgasm. He loves me!

It was several long, very pleasant moments before I finally finished removing his underwear. He stepped out of them and helped me to my feet. Then he did something that surprised me. He kissed me!

I have sucked a lot of cocks in the last couple of weeks. No man has ever kissed me after I did it. Not even Jimmie!

He guided me into the bathroom and we took a long, loving, sensuous shower together. We dried off with a couple of the thickest, most luxurious towels that I have ever seen. Then he picked me up and carried me to his huge bed.

I think that we were both too tired to make love after the night we spent together in the park. But neither one of us wanted to wait. He put me down gently and lay down beside me. We kissed lovingly and his hands began to explore my body, quickly driving me out of my mind.

I was so relieved. After what I had been through I was afraid I would never feel like this again. I loved his touch! It drove me right out of my mind!

And when he began kissing his way down my body it got even better. Jimmie would never eat my pussy, not until Gary made him do it. Gary did it once. It felt nice. But that nice feeling was tainted by the hate I felt for him.

This was nothing like that. This wonderful man was doing it because he enjoyed doing it and because he enjoyed pleasing me for the sake of pleasing me. It was obvious. And once I got past the notion that a slut like me shouldn't allow a good man like Ross to put his lips anywhere near that part of her body and I started to relax and let go I entered the real heaven, heaven on earth. It was the most erotic experience of my life!

I must have enjoyed a dozen orgasms before Ross finally kissed his way back up my body. He smiled down at me and I saw his feelings for me on his face. I reached down and guided him into me and then I held onto him for dear life as he made love to me like no man has ever made love to me before.

We had both been uncomfortable using the word. It was too soon. But this was love. I felt it. I felt it welling up in my heart unlike I had ever experienced it before. And I saw it in his face and felt it in his gentle touch. We had a strange and unusual bond, forged in a park where I had gone to contemplate my imminent death. By coincidence it was the same place he had gone for that same purpose six years earlier.

It wasn't necessarily that we had both chosen to die in the same manner and the same place that brought us together. That was just the coincidence. What brought us together was the understanding that developed between us, two injured souls, as we talked away the night and held back the darkness with growing trust and affection. It was the sunrise I never expected to see, shared with a man who understood what his time spent letting me talk out my fucked up life meant to me. He understood because someone had gotten him through the night in the same way just six years earlier.

Afterwards, after the most amazing lovemaking of my life, we lay together quietly. He held me in his arms and kissed my neck and shoulders and I cried quietly. I cried because I was so grateful. And I cried because I was so happy I had no other way to express it. He understood.

I slept until after midnight. When I awoke he was still there, still holding me. The hotel's kitchen was closed. But he had ordered sandwiches and a pot of coffee before they shut down. We ate on his patio overlooking the city.

We talked a little about nothing much. But later, as we cuddled up in a lounge chair to be close and to ward off the chilly night air he began to tell me about himself and about the man who saved his life. I already knew about the tragedy that brought him to that park where we met. He told me about the man who handed him a cold beer and listened while he talked through the pain.

That man had become like a father to him. He took him in and made a place for him in his home while he recovered from the trauma. He taught him how to be a strong and a good man. And when the man died last year, Ross inherited his rather substantial estate.

But by the time his savior, his stand-in father, his mentor passed away, Ross had become wealthy in his own right. It was then I learned that Ross's last name was Phillips. His name was Ross Phillips! He wrote under the name R. Wayne Phillips! He is my favorite author!

My favorite author had just made love to me and was holding me in his arms!! It took a minute for that to sink in and let me turn my attention back to what he was saying.

Ross went to the overlook last night, on the anniversary of his meeting with his mentor in that park overlooking the bridge, to be close to him and to thank him and to make peace with his past once and for all.

Ross smiled and said, "When I saw you sitting on the hood of your car I knew immediately why you were there. I had the strangest feeling that now the circle was complete."

He was embarrassed when he saw the look in my eyes. I was about to embarrass him some more.

I smiled and said, "That box I put in your trunk at the bridge. It contains the only thing I own that has any meaning for me. It contains your books. I've read every book you have ever written at least once. You always make me laugh and cry and you always make me think. That last is a huge accomplishment as you have no doubt discovered. And every time I get to the end of the story I am sad because it's over."

Epilogue

We went back to bed for a few hours before the sun came up. Then we talked it over and decided to call and let Jimmie know where his car could be found if he wanted it. The only way to do that was to call Gary's shop.

Once Ross pointed out that I had nothing to fear from them and that I would need to know where Jimmie could be reached so that I could get divorced I wasn't so uncomfortable about talking to them.

Ross offered to make the call. But I thought it was better that I do it. There should be no question in anyone's mind that I was putting what they had done to me behind me and getting on with my life.

Gary answered the phone. When he realized it was me he started yelling. I gave him about ten seconds to blow off steam and then I said, "Shut the fuck up!"

And he did! I could almost see the surprised look on his face.

I told him to tell Jimmie where his car was and to expect to be receiving divorce papers in the mail soon.

Gary demanded that I return the money I stole from him and I had a response for that, too. "You raped me, you son of a bitch! I earned that money, not you. If you bring it up again we can go ahead and let the courts decide who did what to whom."

When he didn't respond I confirmed that Jimmie was still living in his house and hung up.

We spent the rest of the day replacing my wardrobe. I tried to restrain Ross. He spent a small fortune on me and I felt very guilty about taking from him that way. But there was no denying the pleasure he was having as we went from one expensive shop to another and he dressed me in the most beautiful and stylish clothing I have ever seen.

The next day we drove across the state to his "little place on Lake Tahoe." It was a huge mansion sitting right on the lake. We were greeted at the door by his housekeeper who was obviously shocked to see me. It wasn't long before Sara, his housekeeper, was like a sister to me. I soon learned from her that Ross had never before brought a woman home. When he told me he had been celibate since the death of his fiancé he had not been exaggerating.

It was only three months before we were married. I was nervous about how that would look to Ross's many friends. But they seemed to realize that we belonged together. I never once encountered any of his friends or acquaintances who didn't seem happy that the two of us had found each other.

Sometimes, when I think back, it is like those things that happened to me happened to someone else. I remember each indignity still, each painful rape, each humiliating day. And still I ponder the question of why I allowed myself to be used that way.

I have gone back and looked at the website. It's still there. Sheryl seems to have collected every photograph or video that was ever taken of me and posted them. I told Ross about the site and offered to let him visit the site.

He took me into his arms and said, "I don't need to see pictures of you being raped and degraded. And besides, I enjoy the pictures I take that show you in just that beautiful smile."

>> vulgus

Back to E Collection :::::|::::: Back to main page