Consequences of an Affair Pt. 07

Back years ago, I'd discarded the 'burner' phone I'd bought. I replaced the battery in my own phone and turned it back on. As expected, there were a lot of text and voice messages from Connie, my ex-wife.

But they weren't really what I expected, as time went by.

The first two calls were full of screaming hate, when my ex-wife Connie discovered the divorce applications that I'd filed. The divorce process had started when she was still in the air, flying into Mexico, to be with her lover. The divorce applications shattered her fantasies of returning to me—'in a year or so'—to resume our wedded life. She texted that, 'she hadn't given me permission,' and 'I was coming back in a year, you bastard.' There was nothing she could do about it, though, as she was completely embedded in her new life as Jorge Martinez's slut-mistress. She sent me to Hell, radical-feminist style, invoking severe physical damage to me and my cock.

Also as expected, there were follow-up calls and texts, bragging that she was with her lover and praising how much bigger, longer-lasting, thicker and better he was than me. These alternated with tearful pleas to come to Mexico and take her back. Connie continued this, on and off, for a couple of months.

Sigh!

But then the content of the calls and messages changed, as she related that Jorje had started to 'lend' her out to some 'special friends,' and that she liked—no, she LOVED—doing sex with them. One by one at first and then in 2's and 3's. Next, in bigger groups. In brief detail, each call or text, she described some of the increasingly kinky sex she was having and loving.

Gone were the self-serving Feminist rantings, rationalizations, justifications and excuses. In place was raw lust for as many cocks, pussies and sex-juice as she could get squirted and/or stuffed into her mouth, cunt and ass at any one day and/or night.

She became fluent in Mexican Spanish, both cultured-language and gutter-slut speak.

After a while, she reported the numbers of men and some women steadily increased, as they all fucked 'La Puta Americana'. Jorje revealed himself as a middle-manager in a drug cartel. Connie began taking cocaine. She reported getting pregnant twice and having abortions. She got treated for STDs.

Then, she bragged, using her American passport, she became a 'mule' for smuggling drugs across the border. She made close to a dozen trips and earned lots of money, always returning to fuck large numbers of men and women.

She described having an increasing number of 'blackouts,' during which she'd apparently perform sex with nearly anyone, anyplace, anytime. Young or old ... men or women. Often waking beside a complete stranger and immediately having more conscious sex with them.

Her last panicked call to my number was from a DEA center at the border, where she was caught and detained, for smuggling cocaine. She was—I later read—tried and convicted in a California court, pleading guilty and being sentenced to 3-5 years for drug smuggling.

I found out later, she'd managed to get her sentence changed from a medium- to a minimum-security women's facility by having kinky sex with the prosecutor, judge, multitudes of guards and female inmates plus the warden supervisor.

On being released early for good behavior and 'health issues,' she somehow found a chunk of money, spent a week at a spa, then ran for the border. She crossed into Tijuana as a middle-aged woman shopper, looking for bargains, and disappeared into the interior of Mexico.

About about a year ago, I got an international call from a hospital in Ciudad Juarez, across the border from El Paso, Texas. Connie had died in that Mexican hospital. Autopsy revealed the presence of malnutrition ... multiple, long-standing STDs ... plus 3 terminal conditions: a 3rd-stage syphilitic advanced brain degeneracy ... a stage 4 metastatic brain sarcoma ... and a diagnosis of advanced pneumonia, subsequent to active AIDS.

What caused her to 'devolve' from my former loving wife into 'La Puta Americana,' and what eventually killed her, take your pick.

My name and phone number was found, tattooed on her right arm. I was contacted, so I arranged to pay her outstanding debts to the Mexican health system (only moderate charges, not the money-gouging of the USA medical system) and took charge of her wasted body. I had her cremated. I flew back to San Diego, with the ashes of my ex-wife in a container.

Calling upon my wealth, I arranged for a 10-day cruise on the Eastern Caribbean Islands, as seen from a luxury suite on board a cruise ship, 'sailing' out of Galveston Island, Texas. Ling and Janice closed the office.

Once on board, we waited until the ship was in international waters, then—with the OK of the Captain and officers—gently scattered my former wife's cremains over the stern (back end) of the cruise ship, sinking the container at the last. Thus finally closing that chapter of my previous life.

We spent the rest of the cruise outraging the other passengers with our often loud antics and loving kindness expressed to each other, often physically and as often expressed as possible for 2 'Leased Wives' and one 'Leased Man'.

We renewed our Marital-Lease agreement to extend into perpetuity.

Which ends this tale.

—THE END—