My VideoChat Error: My Conclusion

I had been asleep with my door locked and my revolver on the little table next to the bed when I heard the door's lock rattle. I'm normally a fairly light sleeper so I was awake immediately as I reached for the weapon. The next thing I heard was Miguel begging me not to shoot him.

"What the fuck's going on, Miguel?"

"I came to get you out of here. Can you dress in the dark?"

"Yeah...I suppose, but why?" By then I was up and sliding my jeans over my boxers. A tee shirt and light jacket plus my socks and sneakers would finish what I needed.

"I've told you that I have a lot of friends. One of them phoned me last week to tell me that two guys--big, muscular with short dark hair were looking for a gringo that he thought looked a lot like you. Then I learned that they planned to take you tonight around two. One of the guys on the crew gave you up."

"You know they'll just keep looking until they find me. Maybe I should leave town." By then I was dressed and ready to go.

"No...after tonight they'll never look for you again. I'm not alone. I have eight guys from the crew here to deal with them--the two gringos and the former member of my crew. Don't worry about your stuff. They'll box and bag it once they have everything under control."

I followed Miguel out the door and we turned left which I thought was wrong until he told me we were going down the back stairs. On the way I heard several familiar voices telling me they had my back and not to worry. Miguel stopped at the top of the stairs to tell me that there were several turns before we reached the first floor. "Put your left hand on my shoulder and your right on the banister. We'll go slowly. I know you've never been on this staircase before." It took us more than five minutes to reach the kitchen.

A few seconds later we snuck silently out the back door. I could see two more men from the crew waiting in the shadows. "Don't worry, Miguel we're ready for them. Jose has his softball bat and the rest of us have about a foot of number eleven."

I remained silent until we were driving away. "What did he mean when he said, 'number eleven?'"

"Rebar, Juan; number eleven weighs a bit more than five pounds to the foot. Rebar is a great weapon for close places. Those guys are in for a big nasty surprise."

"Where are you taking me, Miguel?"

"To Ana's; you'll be safe there."

"I didn't think she liked me."

"I'll let her explain that to you when we get there. She has her own house up in the hills, but it's as safe as Fort Knox."

I sat silently as Miguel threaded his way into the hills, my eyes glued to the lights on the dashboard or occasionally on the road as we moved up from the flat plains. About twenty minutes after getting into the truck with Miguel he pulled up next to a small steel box on a post where he pressed a red button and waited for an oral query. "Miguel...butterfly," he said in reply which was obviously a code word of identification. The high gate, seemingly made of wrought iron opened a few seconds later and we drove through. I could see the gate close immediately in the truck's side mirror. We approached the house less than a minute later. There were two muscular guards dressed in tight tees and black slacks just outside the door. I was surprised to see Ana waiting for us on the porch

She was wringing her hands nervously as we approached and parked. Miguel and I climbed the steps as Ana greeted us, shaking hands with Miguel, but hugging me. "I'm so glad you're okay, Juan. I'm sure you have lots of questions and concerns, but they can wait until we are alone. I did have one idea I want to share with Miguel. Would you want the wallets and keys from the men sent to find you? I think you could send them to your bitch wife as a warning that you have powerful friends who will protect you."

I had to smile--my first since Miguel had awakened me almost an hour ago. "I had no idea that I had such friends until right now. What's going to happen to those guys? Won't the cops come looking for me once they're found?"

"That's something you will never have to worry about, Juan," Miguel said. "You've seen us drill a number of shafts for the concrete pillars. Do you recall how deep we went?"

"Umm...about thirty-two feet, I think." I might have continued if Ana hadn't come over to loop her arm through mine.

"That's right. We dug three today forty feet deep, and wider than the others. Your friends and the rat from your crew will be dumped in those shafts tonight and the shafts are scheduled to be filled first thing tomorrow morning. I think Ana's idea is a good one. We'll find a way to mail them about a thousand miles away just in case she and her fuck buddies have any more thoughts about finding you." He stepped away to place a phone call as Ana led me into the house.

"Do you have your pistol, Juan? Give it to me. You won't need it here." I unloaded it and she placed it on a table before leading me deeper into the house--to her bedroom.

"What's going on, Ana? I got the idea that you didn't like me at the party."

"That was business, Juan. This is personal. I had to check you out--find out what kind of person you were without getting personally involved. Miguel told my father about your problem. We had to decide whether or not to help you. If the answer was no you would have been terminated and disposed of that evening. You are everything Miguel said you were and more. I'm glad." She moved then into my arms, molding her tall slender body into mine for a kiss that she initiated, but one I reciprocated less than a second later. "Come, Juan--let's get undressed. First, a shower and then I want you to scratch an itch I've had since the party."

"Um...Ana, I don't know if that will work. It's small--too small."

"Who told you that, Juan? Your bitchy wife who wanted to control and enslave you? Why would you believe her? I went online when I heard that. The average is between 5.1 and 5.6 inches. How long are you?" By then she was pulling my tee over my head and pushing my jeans down my legs. She moved up to give me another smoldering kiss with her tongue actively exploring my mouth and throat. Breaking away suddenly, she asked, "Do I have to undress myself, Juan?" I smiled as my hands moved to her blouse and then her bra. My hands felt the weight of her breasts as her clothes fell to the floor. She moaned into my neck as my thumbs worried her nipples to rock-hardness. Her neatly trimmed pussy was covered with tiny droplets of her nectar, clearly visible in the gap between her shapely legs even in the dim light.

She must have enjoyed what I was doing because a second later I felt her bite and suck on my neck. I knew I'd have a wicked hickey in the morning. I was as hard as granite by the time we were naked. Ana had an incredible body--slender with a flat stomach and abdomen and a round muscular ass over legs that looked as though they went on forever. Her breasts were to die for--firm and high on her chest. Rather than lead me to the shower she reached onto the vanity for a twelve-inch rule I hadn't noticed before. "It's shorter on top so let me measure there." She continued just seconds later. "Just as I thought--six and a half long; that's well above average, Juan and I'll bet you're thicker than average, too. You should know that you can always find someone who is taller or stronger or faster so you can always find someone with a bigger cock. So what?" She was almost as tall as I was so she pulled my cock down to rub it into her slit which I noticed was now oozing love juice. She looked into my eyes and smiled as she led me into the hot shower.

>>>>>>

If the shower was incredible, then what happened when she led me to bed was heavenly. Ana waited not a second before coming to me and pulling me over her--between those impossibly long shapely legs. "Make love with me, Juan. Do it hard. That's what I need and I think it's exactly what you need, too."

I grabbed my dick in my right hand and rubbed it into her flooded slit. She was tight, much tighter than Emma, but I quickly determined that was from all of the extracurricular fucking Emma had done every day. I pushed forward slowly and it was clear that Ana loved every second of my entry. She moaned and leaned up to bite and suck the other side of my neck. Damn! She was giving me another hickey! I began to thrust once I was sure that I had bottomed out. I thought at the time that I had just felt her cervix press against my dick's head.

She began to move with me, meeting every thrust with one of her own. Before long we were moving like the parts of a fine timepiece--in perfect synchrony. I knew it wouldn't last. I hadn't had real sex in months and I rarely jerked off because I'd never found it very satisfying. Thankfully, Ana told me, "Cum in me, Juan. I want to feel your heat--your lust--inside me. Don't worry about me." That was all I needed. My cock felt that it had exploded as my balls emptied into her. I fell onto her totally drained. I lay there for several minutes before Ana spoke again.

"Tell me, Juan--how did you find the taste of semen? Miguel told me that you were forced to give lots of blowjobs and that you had to clean your wife several times."

"I guess you could say that I found it tolerable. I did those repulsive things to protect my wife and mother. I hated myself for doing it, but I couldn't see any way out until I learned that Emma was a big part of the scheme to enslave me."

"I only ask because there are times when I would like to be eaten after I've had a good fucking. I wouldn't force you to do it, but it is something I really love." She didn't have to say another word. I moved down her body now covered in a sheet of sexual sweat and applied my mouth and tongue to her thighs, labia, and tunnel before taking her large swollen clit between my teeth. Her reaction was immediate and forceful as her legs wrapped themselves tightly around my head until her orgasm had ebbed.

"Another," I asked as I raised my head from her cunt.

"I think you'd kill me if you did. C'mon up here and let's go to sleep." I was on my back with Ana draped over my body when she spoke again. "You really are an incredible lover, Juan." Then she kissed me, snuggled in closer and fell asleep. I was right behind her.

>>>>>>

Ana's father came to visit the following afternoon, arriving less than an hour after all of my possessions from the boarding house had been delivered. Ana helped me to put them into one of the dressers in her room then led me out to the veranda to meet with her father, Sr. Tomas Oliva.

"Juan, Miguel has told me that you will need a new identity. I think I can help you, but I don't have all the answers yet. Hopefully, I will have them soon--the sooner the better, I think."

"How long would this take? Where would I live?"

"I estimate no longer than six months and I suspect that my daughter would extend the courtesies of her home to you during that period. I can see that she has left her marks on you." He was laughing as he placed his hand on my bruised neck.

Sr. Oliva left then to go home. I turned then to Ana. "Ana, I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality. Six months is a long time."

Ana's eyes turned to steel. "Men! I often wonder if you have evolved past the Cro-Magnon stage. You'll be here because I want you, you fool. Now, let's go upstairs and you can give me an advance on your rent...first with your tongue and then with your excellent cock." I was still half in shock when she pulled me up from the chair and led me up to her room and her bed--our bed for the next six months, at least.

>>>>>>

The following morning Ana's father returned. I had been initially concerned at his reaction to my sharing a bed with his daughter, but Ana merely laughed. "My father knows that any union between us was initiated by me. You are too much of a gentleman and he knows that. You would be sleeping in the guest room for a month or more if I had to wait for you to push things between us. Fortunately, I am willing to take the lead when necessary." She sounded stern, but she smiled then leaned over to kiss me. It was long and sweet and loaded with her active and demanding tongue. Fortunately, she omitted biting my neck. Two hickeys were just about my limit.

We were in the living room seated on the couch when Sr. Oliva walked in. After hugging Ana, he asked how I was doing. "You had a close call the other night, Juan."

"Yes, I will always owe Miguel and the others a huge debt of gratitude."

"I want to speak with you about your new identity. It can be done, but the Department of Homeland Security has made the task much more difficult. A few years ago, we could have found a birth certificate and the rest would have been automatic. Now we need an entire background--years of employment history. It is difficult, but not impossible.

"Also, I would arrange for a plastic surgeon to see you to make some minor modifications to your head and face. I anticipate that the work could come to almost $30,000. Can you afford that?"

"I can. I have a safe deposit box in the Bank of South Texas near Sra. Mendoza's boarding house. Will it be safe for me to go there?"

"Yes, those men have been eliminated. Their bodies will never be found--not in our lifetimes, anyway. Miguel will stop by tomorrow evening with their wallets. Write a letter to your wife and I will make arrangements for it to be mailed a long way from here. I own a big trucking company and I can get one of the drivers to mail it for me, maybe from Colorado or Montana."

"I was thinking of sending it to our attorney with instructions to deliver a sealed envelope to my wife. I assume that she's living in the same house, but who knows?"

"That is an excellent idea, Juan. If you can get the money by tomorrow, I will arrange for the surgeon to see you the next day."

"If Ana can drive me, I can get it this afternoon." We agreed and Sr. Oliva phoned the surgeon for an appointment tomorrow afternoon. He left and I offered to take Ana out for lunch. We ate al fresco at a Mexican restaurant--what a surprise! She suggested some things she thought I'd be able to handle. It was a real Mexican restaurant with real Mexican spices. Even the "mild" was as much as I could handle. After lunch she drove to the bank where I was able to access my box. It was back in the safe as soon as I had the $30,000 and another grand for "incidental expenses."

The doctor came to us at one the following afternoon. He made several suggestions after checking my face and bone structure, describing them with the help of a laptop computer. I could see some subtle Mexican touches, but I wondered about my fair skin and blue eyes. "They're staying just as they are, silly! Daddy's people have found an identity for you--Juan Miguel Dalton, an Irish father and a Mexican mother. Even better they owned a small farm in west Texas that went bankrupt less than a year ago."

"Won't the real Juan Miguel object or cause some kind of trouble?"

"No, because he's buried in the family cemetery on the farm; he died when he was an infant in a measles epidemic. The entire family is buried there now. Working on a family farm gives you a reason why you never had a social security card and had no formal salary or wages." The surgeon scheduled me for the surgery in his office two days later using local anesthesia only.

>>>>>>

The surgery went well--at least that's what the doctor told me. All I knew was that my entire head hurt like hell and it was covered with bandages. Ana drove me home, stopping only at a nearby pharmacy for pain medication and an antibiotic. She undressed me then put me to bed, promising to wake me in four hours for another pain killer.

She took excellent care of me, but the following day she told me that I had to write the letter to my bitch wife. I sat at the desk with Ana by my side as I wrote:

"Dear evil slut cunt,

"Didn't I tell you not to look for me? What part of that was so hard to understand? I have made some powerful friends where I am living now and they have "disposed" of your two searchers in a way that they will never be found. Too bad, because I see from the wallet photos that one of them was married with two children. I hope the wife will be compensated appropriately. That's the least you should do to reimburse her for your terrible judgment.

"I haven't forgotten about any of you. Now that I have a new identity you should be extra careful because one of these days.... Shaun"

"So that's your real name. Shaun--I like it."

"No...that's the old me. I'm Juan now and I like my new life a lot better."

She gave me a coy smile as she asked, "Maybe you just like the sex better?"

"I won't lie; it's like a hundred times better than it was, but that's not all. I liked the men I worked with and I even liked the work better than what I was doing. I like the honesty and that you accept me for who and what I am and I especially like you."

"Just like?"

"Okay...more than like...a whole lot more than like. I'm learning to love you. You're tough and hard, but you're also loving and caring. And, most of all--I think--you're a person who gives of herself." I sealed the envelope and wrote instructions to my former attorney, telling him that the enclosed envelope was to be given to Emma and only Emma. The large envelope and the note and wallets were sealed in a small cardboard box and addressed. The return address was only one word--Shaun.

When that was done Ana gave the box to one of the servants who took it to Sr. Oliva's office. I learned later that it was to be mailed from Illinois--someplace south of Chicago.

"I just thought--I should try to contact my mother. I have a burner phone I can use. The number has the same area code as where we used to live. Ana got the phone for me then sat with me as I placed the call. I wasn't at all surprised when it went to voice mail. Hi, Sis--It's Uncle Chuck calling to let you know that I'm okay. Some of the people on the flash drive tried to find me, but I have some very powerful friends where I am now and they resolved the problem for me. I'll try to phone you again tomorrow at the same time. I love you. Bye for now."

I explained to Ana about the Uncle Chuck reference. "I told my mom not to open any packages or letters from me. Anything really from me would be labeled from 'Uncle Chuck.' He was her older brother and he passed away about three years ago, but only she and I know about it. He worked for the federal government in one of those secret operations. I didn't want her to open some DVD's of my sordid activities." Ana held me then--no kissing and certainly no sex--but I could feel her love for me just as I hoped she could feel mine.

>>>>>>

Once my face had healed, I was able to take the exams for a driver's license. I had expected some questions about my age, but there were none. First, I took the written exam for my learner's permit then a month later I passed my driver's test using Ana's Lexus for the road test. Now I was ready for the next part of my recovery. I enrolled in a school that specialized in training long-haul truck drivers. It was my hope that one of my journeys would take me close enough to get some closure with my former spouse and her co-conspirators.

My explanation was no surprise to Ana. Not only did she approve, but she resolved to help me and there was nothing I said or did that would dissuade her. She took me shopping for a new pistol and once I had the permit, she took me to a shooting range to practice. "That's just in case of an emergency, Juan, not that you'd use your own pistol for your revenge. We'll take cold unregistered guns, but they will be the same model Glocks."

"We'll?"

"Damn right; you'll need backup and you're looking at it. Lots of trucker wives travel with their husbands. I have arranged for some special training for you, too."