Eavesdropping

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One man's story after hearing more than he wanted.
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radk
radk
1,353 Followers

To the reader:

I'm trying something a little different here and according to my editor it came out pretty good. That's one person's opinion. Let me know what you think. But I do hope you enjoy it. If not, oh well.

There isn't any sex in here so that's why I'm submitting it under Non-erotic. It does contain a cheating spouse but that isn't the heart of the story, it's just the catalyst. Well, you'll see.

Thanks to jo for editing. Any errors you find are mine and not because of poor editing.

© Copyright February 2013, by the author.

********

His story is just like that of a thousand other men with screwed up lives, sad, and lacking a happy ending. His old life ended and his new life began: A new life so completely different from the first that nobody could have ever imagined it.

His name is Phil, not Phillip, Phil. At one time he was married, had kids, a good job, and all the other trappings of an average suburban family man. Now, he doesn't. His job is gone; he just walked away without saying anything. His wife doesn't know where he is, and that's the way he wants it. But the most troublesome part was that he walked away from his two little babies. "I hope I didn't screw up their lives like I did my own," he lamented over a bottle of cheap wine. The last time he saw his house was years ago and it was still standing, but he couldn't will himself to go in. He turned and walked away with the intention of going somewhere he could drink himself to death. He got the idea from an old Nicholas Cage movie. "If I've got nothing to live for anymore then drinking myself to death is as good a way to go as any. Besides, I don't have the guts to put a gun in my mouth."

You see Phil is one of the many homeless men we pass on the streets every day: Nameless inhabitants of alleyways and abandoned cars and cardboard boxes out by the dumpster. We see them and avert our eyes because they pollute our streets and sidewalks. We purposely ignore them because with just a little turn of bad luck we could be in their shoes. Phil thought the same thing at one time, in his previous life. Now he doesn't think about too much of anything, except where he's going to get something to eat or his next bottle of wine.

Phil's life was as normal as normal could be, then he did something to screw it all up, he let his curiosity get the better of him. Snooping into things he didn't understand cost him everything and it all started with his wife Cheryl.

Phil and Cheryl have known each other since high school. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known; tall, slender, wavy brown hair, all the right stuff in all the right places, and way more intelligent than him. Oh Phil's no dummy. He earned a college degree like everyone else but Cheryl breezed through college and now just seemed to absorb every bit of information from the world around her. "A beautiful woman with a magnificent mind is just about the sexiest combination on the planet," Phil told his friends on occasion. The one thing that his wife has that is not attractive, at least in Phil's way of thinking is a stubborn streak. Once she got something in her mind it would take the finger of God poking her in the backside to get her to change. It's only happened once and Phil had to live through hell for three weeks until she calmed down. Even with her stubborn streak he's loved her since their first date.

They also have two daughters, Kim and Sam. They lived in a nice neighborhood and did all the neighborly stuff that good neighbors do. They had parties and barbecues and were always going out with friends and associates from work. They went to movies and the theater and never once missed any of their daughter's school events. They were your boringly average, archetypal people down the street. One of the things that Cheryl carried over from her college days was membership in a small group of friends from her sorority that Phil affectionately called the 'Gang of Seven.' All seven women were members of the same sorority Tau Kappa Alpha (TKA) and have remained close friends over the years. Once a month they all got together at one of their houses and had a party. Men weren't invited. Phil always thought that they sat around comparing husbands and talking trash about them but no one really knew for sure. Cheryl would only smile when he brought up the subject, never saying a word about what they did or talked about. He did know that they would drink a dozen bottles of wine in the night. Phil's even had to drive one or two of the gang home afterwards. It all seemed innocent enough and the husbands thought it was a good way for them to have a 'guy's night out' at the same time.

This party is where Phil's life took a left hand turn.

The Gang of Seven planned to meet at Phil and Cheryl's house one Saturday night and as usual Cheryl not-so-gently hinted for Phil to make himself scarce. After helping set out the food and drinks, lots of drinks, he kissed her tenderly and told her to behave herself. He got that 'yeah, right' look as he walked down the street to meet up with his friend Jerry. They had planned to go play pool and have a few drinks, you know, do guy stuff, but when he got to Jerry's house his wife told him that he had been called to work for some emergency. She looked a little pissed and since Phil didn't want to overstay his welcome, he just left and went back home. The gang was starting to arrive and since he wasn't welcome he knew he couldn't go back in the house. Instead he went around back and into the basement. His basement was his man cave. It wasn't finished, just bare concrete floor and cinderblock walls, but he had built a huge workbench in the middle of the room and had every imaginable tool covering one wall. Oh, there was also a washer and drier down there too so maybe it wasn't totally his place.

Phil enjoyed one particular hobby since he was a boy and that was target shooting. His Dad turned him onto guns when he bought his first .22 caliber rifle for his eleventh birthday. His Dad taught him everything about safety and maintenance and even signed him up for his first competitive match. Over the years he's fired competitively and won a number of trophies. His Dad also taught him how to reload his own ammunition. His Dad also insisted on buying brass shells so they could be reloaded after a day at the range. Some of their best father-son talks occurred when they would sit in the garage and reload all the shells. Believe it or not, it's a lot cheaper to gather up your spent brass to reload than to leave money sitting on the ground by using aluminum or steel shells. So he turned on the overhead light and gathered up the supplies to start reloading the bucket full of 9 millimeter shells he used in the last match.

Overhead he could hear the gang stomping around and laughing as they ate and talked. The little devil in him, actually Cheryl always called it the little smart-ass in him, wondered what they were talking about. He could hear bits and pieces of what they said through the floor but he wanted to hear everything. He looked around to see if he could figure out a better way to hear. As he looked up he saw one of the heat registers in the duct above and remembered when he cut it in. The house was build with heat on the upper floor only and he wanted a little bit of heat for the times he was in the basement working, so he added a little register to the existing duct work overhead. It just so happened that there was another register in the floor above exactly over the one he had cut in. He knew that if he opened up the one over his head he would be able to hear everything that went on in the living room. With a sly little smile he stood on a box and opened it. He could see the light from above and the voices came in so clear he felt like he was right in the room with them. His smile got wider and wider as he sat and did his work.

The members of the Gang of Seven were a diverse lot. They all went to the same college and pledged the same sorority but their personalities and their post-college lives were vastly different. Cheryl was a working mother with two kids, a dog, and a handsome husband (her words) who loved her to death. She's worked off and on since graduating, mostly off after the kids were born, but now she worked full-time again working for a real estate management group. She also seemed to act as the social coordinator for the Gang's monthly parties.

Cheryl's roommate for her two years at TKA was Beth. The best word that describes Beth is slut: A beautiful slut, but a slut nonetheless. She's twice divorced. She said they cheated on her but everyone suspects it was the other way around. She never seemed to be without a boyfriend, sometimes two or three at a time, some married, some a whole lot younger. The one thing they all had in common was money. If they had money to spend on her then she would spread for them.

JoAnne was the jock of the group: All-American Soccer player and rowed for the 8-woman crew. She was also someone you wouldn't want to piss off. She married the local television weatherman and had her first child last year. Having a baby didn't hurt her figure one bit. She's still tall and muscular with magnificent legs and the tightest ass anyone's ever seen. She's also a fitness instructor at the local gym. Sometimes at six in the morning you would see her out on the lake in her single scull doing her morning laps.

Lillie was the intellectual member and looked every bit the part: Short bob haircut, dark glasses, hardly any makeup, and the most dull, drab attire outside of Goodwill. She's the only one who continued her education and got her PhD and now is a high level manager for an insurance company. Dull is the best word to describe Lillie but when you talked to her you could sense a smoldering sensuality behind her intellectual mask. There must have been something there because her husband constantly had a smile on his face and they did have one child.

Sue was the only full-time mom of the bunch. When she stood up straight her blond locks barely reached the five foot mark. When soaking wet she was maybe a hundred pounds. Her high pitched soprano voice sounded almost child-like but with five children of her own she's anything but child-like. Everybody says she's 'cute as a button,' and for as true as that is she's also the most down to earth and genuinely lady-like woman in the bunch. She's a person anyone, man or woman, would like to have as a friend.

Maureen was a difficult woman to describe. She was a large, imposing woman but with a kind and gentle heart. She's not fat or anything like that, it's just that she's almost six feet tall and as strong as any man. Maybe it had something to do with twenty plus years of Judo. In college she was know as 'The Enforcer.' Now all the kids in her first grade class just call her Ms. Maureen. Her two daughters are going to be just like her when they grow up. And you can't call her husband anything but 'sir'. He's a state police officer and towers over Maureen. She's very likable and it would be a good idea to call either her or her husband should you ever get into a sticky situation.

The final member of the Gang of Seven was April. April always seemed to blend into the background whenever she was with the others. She seemed shy at first glance but once she warmed up to you she turned on her wit and charm and the fascinating woman inside came out with a bang. She was almost as pretty as Beth and Cheryl physically but just hearing to her husky voice and watching her eyes bore deep into your soul made her by far the most sensual of the group. And the fact that she has the most voluptuous body of the bunch made her an absolute delight to be around. Men melt whenever she looks at them.

Oh, and at one time the Gang of Seven used to be the Gang of Eight but one member, Stephanie, succumbed to breast cancer three years ago. Cheryl said that at each gathering they drink a toast to Stephanie and remind each other to do their monthly breast self exams.

For the first hour the conversation was about families and work and household stuff. They ate and drank and laughed about the stupid things their kids and husbands did. There was no mention of anybody's sex life. That was a relief because deep down inside Phil always felt a little insecure around some of the husbands. They were ex-jocks, or big shot lawyers, or successful businessmen. Phil designed software. He was glad that Cheryl and the Gang weren't engaging in a comparison of penis sizes: Again, another of those areas where he was hopelessly average. The next hour turned to gossip. The drinks were obviously doing their jobs because there were occasional explosions of raucous laughter and a whole lot more colorful words most of which would make a sailor blush. He did learn that the little old lady across the street had a boyfriend that liked to walk around the house in the nude. He also learned that one of the Gang of Seven might be getting married again. Beth, the only divorced woman of the group who had eaten up and spit out two husbands, announced that she met a very wealthy divorced banker from out of town and they were heating up the sheets on a regular basis. "It's only a matter of time before he becomes so dependant on my pussy that he has to marry me." Then she started into a chorus of 'Money Makes the World go Round," from the movie Cabaret. Beth is such a slut.

He listened and learned about his daughter's elementary school teacher, the Episcopal minister from over on Grove Street, the blond that moved in next door to Lillie, and how the man behind the meat counter down at the Food Lion tenderized his meat. That one earned the loudest of the raucous laughter. There were lots of oohs and aahs when they talked about the new FedEx delivery man, even an "I'd let him handle my packages" from Cheryl. Phil made a note to ask Cheryl about Mr. FedEx hunk.

It was well into the third hour, and he had long finished reloading the dozen boxes of shells, and was just sitting back listening to the bullshit from the living room when Beth brought out a game. He has known these women for years so he knew everyone's voice pretty well. He just sat back envisioning the goings on up above.

"It's a game called Girls Night Out," Beth said somewhat slurring her words. "It's a bit like Truth or Dare but more truth than dare. There's a box of cards and we pick one from the box and answer it, after reading the question out loud of course. We have to be completely honest with our answer and if the others don't believe the answer then the person with the question has to chug down a shot of whatever they're drinking, unless they can prove it somehow. There are some cards with a symbol on the top corner that means we all answer it, but in that case we write down the answers and throw them in a bowl. One of us pulls them out one at a time and reads them. We all have to guess who belongs to which answer and if we can't guess then we all take another drink, all except for the owner of the answer."

"What's the fun in that?" JoAnne answered also sounding a bit slurred.

"All the questions are sexually oriented," Beth said before breaking out in laughter.

"ALL RIGHT!" the entire gang screamed. I could hear hands slapping and people rearranging the room.

"I think we're going to need more wine for this," Cheryl announced. "I'll open two more bottles and get some crackers."

"Forget the crackers," Lillie announced. "Just bring the wine and a couple of your special smokes."

"Okay," Cheryl answered back. "Light a couple candles and I'll be right back."

Phil had forgotten about that. Way back in her sorority days Cheryl used to smoke a lot of weed. He smoked too but only occasionally at parties and the like. Ever since they've been married they've abstained from the illegal stuff, keeping up appearances in the neighborhood and all. Hell, he didn't even know that she had any. He made another mental note to find her stash and talk to her about it.

Everyone was back in the living room and seated quietly drinking or lighting up. It only took a few minutes before the telltale aroma of the herbs floated down to the basement. Phil leaned back in his chair and let the college memories flow back in.

"Okay, is everybody ready?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, go ahead, I've nothing to hide," Maureen laughed.

"Okay then, you're first," Beth said.

"Oh my God!" Maureen screeched. "I can't answer this."

"Go on, you said you didn't have anything to hide," Sue warbled.

"Okay, here goes," Maureen started reading. "Do you spit or swallow?"

Everybody laughed and clapped and taunted her. "Go ahead, answer." Cheryl mocked.

"I, uh, I, swallow," Maureen said sheepishly. "There, are you happy?"

There was more laughter and a lot of random teasing. Again Phil smiled listening to the revelations from above making another mental note of to smile whenever he saw Maureen. His eavesdropping was turning out to be a lot of fun.

"Your turn April," Beth said.

"Oh, God, this is so embarrassing, "April mumbled. "Here's the question. Have you ever kissed another woman?"

"Yeah, babe, answer that one," Beth challenged.

"Yes I have, but I'm not going to go into details," April replied with a sound of resolve in her voice.

"It was Lorissa Alberson in our senior year after that big party over at Delta house," Sue announced to everyone. "You and Lorissa spent the entire evening swapping spit and fumbling under each other's clothes before disappearing upstairs for the night. A couple of us snuck up later and listened at your door. We heard you two moaning and giggling. You bet you kissed another woman."

"You bitch!" April spit at her. "You weren't supposed to say anything about that."

The gang broke into riotous laughter, all at April's expense. There was the sound of glasses clinking and a bigger cloud of smoke poured through the register. It took a while for everyone to come back down to earth.

"Okay, Sue, you're next," Beth said.

Sue cleared her throat and started reading. "Who gave you the strongest orgasm? If it was your current partner describe what he did to get you there. Well that one's easy; it was Leon Parkman back in college. You guys remember him, the wide receiver on the football team."

"The tall black guy?" Maureen asked.

"Yep, that's him. He had the fattest cock I've ever seen. It wasn't just long but it was as big around as my wrist. When he pounded that thing into me I just hung on for dear life and had orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. I passed out before he finished a couple times just from the sheer ecstasy of it all. Man, he was something."

"Something better than Arnie?" Beth asked.

"Well, don't get me wrong, Arnie's good and all that but he's no Leon Parkman. If Arnie could do what Leon did I wouldn't be here with you right now. I'd be on my back under Arnie holding on for dear life and screaming my head off."

"Okay, another mental note about Arnie," Phil thought. "Not all that good in the sack. I'm feeling better already."

"Okay, it's your turn Lillie," Beth said.

"Let's see," Lillie mumbled. "This one has the little 'all play' symbol. So I guess I read the question and everyone writes down their answer and throw it in, what, how about eating the last chip there JoAnne and hand me that bowl. Okay, here's the question. Since you've been born, how many different men have you sex with?"

Phil smiled because he knew Cheryl's answer. They met in high school and haven't been apart since. They went through high school and college and married just after graduating. He got her cherry and she got his. Phil had been with no one else and he knew that neither had Cheryl.

"Okay is everybody in?" Lillie asked. "Now I'll read the answers. "The first one says 'hundreds'. That's easy, Beth. She's the biggest slut in the group."

radk
radk
1,353 Followers