Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
After leaving the restaurant, he drove out to one of the old stripper pits that he always fished before his accident. Once there, he reclined the seat back and relaxed.
He couldn't understand, Trish had never denied him affection. She was always telling him how much she loved him, kissing him and holding his hand. Except for the lack of sexual contact, which he believed was from her phobia and was sure that that long ago infection had changed something inside of her. She acted like a normal, everyday housewife.
"How could she keep this hidden. . . for twenty years?" he said out loud, "I just don't understand how she could have pulled it off, wouldn't my kids have seen or heard something? Or someone else. .? Didn't Roger's parents wonder where the hell he was at night, I know he still lived at home. . . Shit! they probably just figured he was out getting high."
Over the next three hours or so, Martin tried to form a plan as to what he was going to do. He realized that he was going to have to control his emotions around Trish, he couldn't let her know what he'd found out. He was also going to have to find Amanda (Swanson) Hunsaker, and find out how this all got started. Then he was going to have to find out the paternity of his sons, and finally, plan an escape, he couldn't possibly stay with a woman that had cheated on him for twenty years. . . could he?
Martin arrived home around five PM, and Trish was beside herself with worry, he'd been gone for five hours. She wrapped her arms around him and told him to never do that to her again.
"I'm sorry, it was so peaceful out there, and I leaned the seat back to just relax for a while. . . and I just fell asleep," said Martin.
"You had me worried sick, I was so scared that something had happened to you. . . I don't ever want to lose you Martin," Trish cried.
"I think maybe you already have," he thought.
They made slow, passionate love again that night, Martin was struggling to control his emotions. He loved this woman so much, how was he ever going to leave her, but every time he thought about her being with Roger, it enraged him.
The next morning, Martin was up early, he was going to try and contact Amanda. He remembered now that she had married Michael Hunsaker, her on again, off again boyfriend from high school. He tried the phone book with no luck, so he turned to the computer. Martin remembered that he had heard on the radio a while back that Michael had been arrested for a DUI.
Martin sat down at the computer and booted it up, then after the internet loaded, he called up the website for the Radio station that he'd heard the report on. He searched through the local news stories for the last couple of weeks, and there on the third page was a photo of who he was pretty sure was Michael, he had to look at the name under the picture to make sure though.
"Jesus Christ, what in the hell happened to him, he looks like he's eighty years old!" Martin said outloud.
Michael Hunsaker, 49 of 204 W 9th street, was arrested Tuesday Morning at the intersection of 4th and Clover streets on an outstanding warrant and a preliminary count of driving under the influence of alcohol. He was booked into the. . .
There it was. . . Martin jotted the address down on a scrap of paper, putting it in his pocket, and decided that he was going to pay Amanda a visit sometime in the near future. That was, if she was still living with Michael.
The opportunity came sooner than he expected, at about 10 AM, Trish's mom called and wanted her to go grocery shopping after lunch. As Trish was preparing to leave to go pick up her mother, Martin told her that he was going to take his fishing rods out to the lake he was at the day before and give it a shot.
"I thought you said it made your back hurt," said Trish.
"Yeah, but it won't hurt to try, I've got to do something, this sitting around is getting on my nerves."
Martin loaded his fishing gear into the car, and as soon as Trish was gone, headed for W 9th street. Ten minutes later, he was at the address that he'd found on the internet. The house had definitely seen better days, it was located in a neighborhood that was known for trouble, a lot of crackheads and drug dealers lived close by this. He couldn't help but wonder if Martin and Joshua used to hang out around here a lot.
He walked up onto the porch and knocked. A very thin and scraggly looking woman with long, stringy grey hair answered the door.
To be continued. . .
