Screaming for Vengence

She brought her book and I started going over some of the things she didn't understand from the chapter her class was working on. Unfortunately, she didn't have a good grasp of the previous material either so I decided that we should probably go back a couple of chapters and really work at improving her grasp of the basic concepts and then try to catch up to the class. She agreed and we set up a few study sessions during the week. I found myself really liking her for some reason. And I started to wonder how her deformity, whatever it was, affected her.

The next time we got together it was still at Starbucks and we worked for about three hours and she came out of her shell a bit. This went on for a few weeks and we became more and more comfortable with each other. I often found myself losing my train of thought or getting lost in her eyes when we talked. Finally one week, just before the weekend session on Thursday afternoon, I asked her if she'd like to come to my house. The days were getting steadily warmer and I told her we could do two sessions on Saturday afternoon before she had to go to work and she'd be more comfortable and she wouldn't have to wear her coat. She looked at me and smiled.

"I'd love to study at your home," she said. "I'm not sure about the coat. I wear my coat for my security and your protection."

"Shelly, I'd never stare at you or try to make you feel uncomfortable," I said. "Surely you know that by now. You can't help the way you were born. Deformities are nothing to laugh at, but they're also nothing to be ashamed of." She started laughing.

"Who told you I was deformed?" she asked.

"Samantha did," I said.

"Mr. Forrest, Samantha was being facetious. I'm not actually deformed depending on how you look at it. I guess I'm just fat."

"Then there's no problem," I said.

"Oh yeah, there's a problem," she said. "Look, do you have a computer?" she asked. I just looked at her strangely. "Google Mal Malloy," she said. "Take a look at the videos. I have the same problem. I'll call you tomorrow and we can figure out what we're doing Saturday." As she left the table she brushed my hand and I realized I had a problem. This woman couldn't have been much older than thirty. She was a child compared to me.

When I got home there were ten messages in my voice mail. They were all from Erica. We'd been divorced for nearly a year. I couldn't figure out why she wanted to talk all of a sudden. The phone rang and I expected it to be her. But luckily it was Samantha.

"Dad everything is fucked up and it's my fault. What are you going to do?" she asked me.

"Slow down Baby girl," I said. "What are you talking about?"

"Mom," she said. "Remember at the wedding when I made you say nice things to her? Well she's gone nuts. She's eating again and she went back and got her hair styled all over again to be more the way she thinks you like it. She thinks she's going to get you back and it's my fault. Then, Dad, I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I think Shelly likes you. I know she's way too young for you and she's deformed, but Dad, she's a really nice person. So do whatever you have to do to let her down easy. She has some self-esteem issues. And you don't even want to know what she does for a living."

I didn't want to make a mistake with Erica. I was glad that she was out of her depression, but there was no way I could ever see myself getting back with her. There was simply too much water under that bridge. On the other hand I was intrigued. What the hell would interest Shelly in me? Shelly's face was beautiful. Often when we were studying, while she worked on a problem I found myself staring at her. She had the most wonderful smile. Her lips were thick and I wondered what it would feel like to not only kiss them but to just chew on those lips.

I guess my life was always going to be feast or famine. For almost a year, I hadn't met or even spoken to any women except the ones I met on the route 66 road trip. Now there were two women interested in me; one that I didn't want and the other that I couldn't have.

While I thought about my problem, I turned on my computer. I went to Google and typed in the name that Shelly had mentioned. I got all kinds of results and a bunch of questions. I saw a lot of terms that I simply didn't understand. What the hell is a PAWG?

I looked at one of the videos. Apparently it was some kind of video blog about a woman trying to lose weight. The woman in the video was really cute. She looked a little bit like Shelly. I could tell that it wasn't her though. The hair was wrong. The facial features were wrong too. Was Shelly trying to tell me that she needed to lose weight? Was that the problem? If it was it wouldn't bother me in the least.

I'd started by watching some of the earlier videos in the series. But a few videos into the list my eyes nearly popped out of the sockets and my dick nearly ripped its way through my pants.

The only person who thought that woman was fat was herself. She was voluptuous to an astounding degree, but no man would ever call her fat. She had the most perfect hourglass figure ever. She had generous breasts and an extremely small waist that simply ballooned out to form the most incredible ass on the planet.

Apparently as her videos went on she spoke less and less about dieting and her weight loss as thousands of men started contacting her and asking to see the body that she wanted to lose. Her videos started more and more to be filled with scenes of her wearing less and less clothing. The less clothing she wore the more viewers she got.

Her videos of her just being a normal girl talking about losing weight, but the videos of her in a bikini or lingerie were more erotic than most porno videos that showed full nudity and penetrative sex.

I was in shock. I wasn't really thinking as I absent mindedly picked up the phone on its first ring.

"John, do you want to come over and have dinner with us and see your daughter and son in law and your grand kids? I'm going to cook a roast the way you like it with the carrots and potatoes," asked Erica.

I didn't know what to say. I guessed that I always told everyone that I wanted us to be comfortable. I didn't want the kids to have to pick and choose and feel awkward about having both of us over. So I said okay.

I drove over thinking it was going to be a relaxed family dinner. When I got there, Darren was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. We sat around talking for a few minutes and then Erica came down the stairs. She was dressed to the nines. She had on a brand new dress that showed a lot of leg. In the few weeks since the wedding she'd put on a few pounds. She wasn't back at her normal weight yet but she was looking healthier. Her hair was brushed and flowing freely again. She looked much better than she had at the wedding with the over-done make up and shellacked hair.

She smiled at me and came over to sit down right next to me. "The roast will be done in about twenty minutes," she said. "Sammie is upstairs trying to give your grandsons a bath."

She'd latched onto my arm and was just staring at me. Darren picked that moment to go and check on the wine for dinner. "We're having wine?" I asked.

That was the way the whole evening went. I was constantly finding myself alone with Erica smiling at me. The food was really good. When you've gotten used to someone cooking for you for most of your life and it's suddenly gone, you appreciate it even more.

That made me think about the last time the four of us had roast together. It was the time when Samantha had tried to kill us with her bone dry roast and Erica had caused our divorce by suggesting that we name our grandson after Randy.

After dinner Samantha got up to do the dishes. Darren decided to help her so Erica asked me if I wanted to go for a walk or out on the porch.

"If we were back in our house, we'd be out on our deck," she said. "That seems like a different lifetime but it's been barely a year."

"It does seem like it was a long time ago," I said.

"John, have you had sex since our divorce?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. "Lots of times."

"Oh," she said sadly. "I guess I deserve to have this happen to me."

"Have what happen to you?" I asked.

"I haven't had sex with anyone since the last time you and I did," she said. "I guess I haven't been trying to find anyone. So are you just messing around with a bunch of women...or?"

"Nope," I said. "I'm in a committed relationship." I smiled. She looked down at her feet. I thought for a second that she was going to cry.

"So who's the lucky lady?" she asked.

"It's not a lady," I smirked. She looked shocked.

"Who've you been having sex with," she asked.

"My hand Erica," I smirked. "What did you expect? We were married for a long time and I loved you like there was no tomorrow. I'm going to need time before I just jump up and start having sex with someone. It's going to take me some time to get over you. It's going to take some time to find someone to start making new memories with so I can block out the memories of our last few years together."

"Why do you need to block them out?" she asked. "They were great years John."

"They were great years for you, Erica," I said. "They were torture for me. You knew that I loved you more than anything else in the world. But all I knew was that you'd been lying to me for a long time. All I knew was that you had betrayed me in the worst way possible over and over again. You knew that I belonged to you. I knew that I had to share you with someone else occasionally and during those times he was obviously more important than I was."

"That's not how it was, John. It was never like that," she said. "You still don't see this the right way. There was never anyone else for me either. I loved you just as much as you loved me. I still do. I just fucked Randy a few times. Randy is dead John. There's no reason for us to even talk about him," she said.

"You're right," I said. "But if you know that why did you bring him up?"

"I didn't bring him up," she said. "I started out asking you if you were having sex with anyone and it turned into an argument, as usual. I just wanted to find out something. I wanted to ask you a question and the conversation just went the wrong way."

"Then let's talk about something else," I said. "Or maybe, it's still too soon. Maybe we shouldn't talk. Maybe we should just look at this like we had a great evening with our kids and call it a night. Maybe I'll see you again sometime in the future. This wasn't that bad. We made it through dinner before we started sniping at each other. That bodes well for the future."

She nodded her head but her face didn't seem to agree with it. Her eyes were narrow as if she was fighting to hold back her tears. "It's a beautiful night," I said changing the subject.

"Do you know what would make it better?" she asked quietly.

"A cold beer," I said.

"I was thinking more of having your hot dick in my warm pussy," she said. I started choking and had to take a few deep breaths.

"John, neither one of us is getting any younger. And more than that neither one of us is getting any. You said it yourself. It takes time to find someone to be with. So until you do, why can't we have sex with each other?" she asked.

"For one thing," I sputtered. "I'm supposed to be trying to get over you. If we were sleeping together, I'd probably never get over you."

"Who says you have to get over me?" she asked. "John, God damn it, I made a mistake. And I lost you for it. We are no longer married. I destroyed my family. I miss you so much at night that it hurts me. I go to sleep every night imagining you balls deep in some skank. Now I find out that you're wasting your efforts jacking off. I made you an offer. You can just come and pick me up, take me back to our house and fuck me. You can have me and then just drive me back home or keep me and have me for the whole night and bring me back in the morning. You could even keep me for a few days if you want."

I looked at her crazily.

"I can tell you like the idea," she said. "Because the boy scouts in your pants are pitching a tent."

"But..." I said.

"But nothing," she said. "You've already stuck it up my butt. You're the only one who ever has. And you can do it again." She moved over near me and started rubbing her hand up and down my pants covered crotch.

"I appreciate the offer, Erica," I said tensely. "But I'm not sure that given our situation, it's the right thing to do."

I backed away from her and headed for my car. "Tell the kids I said Goodnight," I said.

As I pulled away from the curb, my phone rang.

"The offer is always open," she said from the phone.

The next morning I went out for my normal run still wondering about the events of the previous evening. I had either done the dumbest thing possible or the smartest and I had no idea which. As I walked into the house and grabbed the towel that I left in the entry hall, I heard my phone ringing. It was only 10 a.m. I wondered who the hell would be calling me that early.

"Hi John, it's me Shelly," she said. "So uhm, are we still on?"

"Of course, Shelly," I said. After last night I'd almost forgotten.

"John, did you look at the website and videos I told you about?" she asked.

"Well yeah, some of them," I said. "I still don't understand what they had to do with math?"

"Well...what did you think?" she asked.

"I really don't know what you want me to think or what I'm supposed to be thinking about," I said.

"What did you get out of the videos?" she asked.

"Well there's this pretty young woman," I started. "I don't think she's as pretty as you are, but she was cute." I heard her sigh over the phone.

"She started out trying to lose weight. I think that woman have it really bad now-a-days because the internet and the media have all you women thinking that they're supposed to all be the same size and same shape. If you're not a size two or whatever, you're fat. That young woman has an incredible body. But all of her women friends probably convinced her that she needed to lose weight. She started posting her videos and found out that most men don't think she needs to at all."

"What did you think, John?" she asked.

"I think that what really matters is how a woman feels about herself and how the people she loves feels about her. Beauty comes from the inside," I said.

"John, did you like her body or not," she asked.

"It doesn't matter whether I like her body," I said. "What matters is that she be happy in her own skin. Anyway what does this have to do with Algebra?"

"Did you like it or not?" she asked.

"Why?" I asked.

"Did you like it or not?" she asked again, a bit more firm this time.

"I think she's probably the sexiest woman I've ever seen in my entire life," I said.

"In spite of her big fat ass and those thick thighs?" she asked.

"Nope," I said. "...Because of her big ass and those thick thighs. If I were younger, I'd love to have those thighs wrapped around me. And..." I began.

"I've already got your address," she said. "I'll be over at noon."

I don't know why but I was nervous. It was as if I sensed that something was about to change. I beat the steaks almost to a pulp as I prepared them for the grill. All kinds of things were running through my mind. I was thinking about my ex-wife's proposition. I was thinking about going away on another trip and I was thinking a lot about the videos that Shelly had wanted me to watch.

When Shelly arrived, clad in her familiar long bulky coat, I was almost relieved. I showed her through the house and told her to make herself comfortable. She smirked at me a little bit and shook her head. It was almost as if she was playing a secret joke one me and I'd be getting the punch-line soon.

I grabbed her book bag that she'd left by the door and lead her out onto the deck. "This is so beautiful," she said.

"Well the pool isn't big enough to swim laps in," I said. "It's more of a jump in and cool-off pool. And the hot tub is really only big enough for two people and they really have to know each other pretty well, because they're going to be very close together." She smiled at that.

"I love the deck though," I said. "We built it ourselves and made a lot of mistakes doing it. But it was fun learning. There isn't much furniture because we always thought of this not as a place to entertain but a place for US time."

"I'm sorry," she said. She came over and stood in front of me. She reached up very slowly as if I was an injured bird and she didn't want me to try to fly off. She wiped the corners of my eyes with both hands and they came away with traces of moisture. I hadn't realized that I'd cried a bit while thinking and talking about building and landscaping the yard. Even though I hadn't mentioned Erica's name, I guess the memories were still far more potent than I wanted to admit.

The contact between us was incredible. Her hands felt so soft and so warm. She did the strangest thing then. She wiped one of her hands off on her coat but she licked the fingers on the other. "Mmm, salty," she said.

"Sammie told me a little bit about your divorce. You must miss her something awful to still tear up after all of this time," she said. "It's really a good thing, especially from a guy. That just makes it incredible. And it makes you even more special." I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Can I ask you something that's a little bit personal?" she said. I nodded.

"Why is it that the two of you can't just get back together? I'm not trying to pry. But it just seems so silly. Sammie just told me that you were divorced. She also told me on several occasions that her mother is driving her crazy with schemes to get you back. I've never met her mother, but she seems insistent on it. And then I see that you really miss her too. It just doesn't seem to make sense. If the two of you love each other that much, why can't you..."

"She cheated on me," I said sharply. My voice hadn't gotten any louder but the venom in it carried just the same. "It wasn't a one-time thing, it went on for years. I've tried to get over it but I simply can't. The betrayal cut me too deeply. I had my revenge on him after a fashion. And I tried to put it behind us, but I simply found myself never able to trust Erica again. She never gave me any reason not to trust her, but I just couldn't get over it. She tried to justify it and minimize it and even apologize for it, but none of that made it any better. In the end I had to move on. Life is too short to spend it with someone you don't trust. And not being able to trust a person just eats away at a relationship. Erica is desperate to regain what we had. I'm desperate to move on to something better."

"Oh..." was all she said. I had the feeling that she understood what I was talking about far more than I expected.

"Well, at least you were fortunate enough to have someone who wanted to be with you long-term," she said. "You had someone to build a life with and you have Samantha and your grandkids. I envy you that so much."

"Oh God, Shelly," I said smiling. "You're beautiful. You could probably have all kinds of guys."

She started laughing then. I got up and put the steaks on. "How do you want your meat?" I asked.

She tilted her head and looked at me as if she'd taken the question totally differently from the way I'd meant it. "Do you like your steak rare or medium?" I asked, rephrasing the question.

"How do you like yours?" she asked.

"Well I'm a well done guy," I said.

"Then I'm a well done woman," she smiled. "Are you trying to get out of our conversation?"

"Sorry, I just don't like talking about the past and my ex. There's no possibility of going back there, but sometimes it's still painful talking about it or thinking about it," I said.