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Message-ID: <43283asstr$1057705803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Shattered_Mind@nospam.hotmail.com (Naive)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 8 Jul 2003 20:06:29 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Consequences (M/F, cheat, flash, caution)
Date: Tue,  8 Jul 2003 19:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

----------------------------
(c) 2003 copyright by SJTJ (a.k.a. Naive)
Copyright information: This story is the sole property of SJTJ (a.k.a. Naive). 
No one has the right to alter, distribute, or sell this story with out my 
written permission. I do hear by give the right to give or display this story 
to anyone who wants it as long as it's free of charge. Changes and follow-up 
stories should have my permission. Any grammatical or spelling changes are 
permissible as long as it does not alter the concept.
----------------------------
This story is intended for mature audiences. You must be 18 or older to read 
this story. This story contains adult situations and sexual content. If 
subject matter of this type offends please DO NOT read any further. Thank you.
----------------------------

************
Consequences
By Naive(c) <shattered_mind@nospam.hotmail.com>
************


        When the door burst open, Frank was hanging onto the doorframe one eye 
swollen shut. Angela didn't know what to think. She got up to rush to him but 
he said, "Don't! Just sit back down, I don't want you touching me!" Angela's 
heart started pounding in her breast, and she thought, 'he can't know'. But 
that look in his eye made her think that he just might.

        She watched him carefully as he staggered to the large recliner 
opposite her, and fell into it. Perched on the edge of her seat, she wanted to 
run, to get away, to keep that eye, burning with anger and despair, from 
focusing on her. But finally it did, piercing her, holding her there.

        "I went down to the bar to have a drink," he gave a little half smile 
that came no where near his eyes, "you know the place, Rooks, that little 
sports bar on Fifth and Vine. It was a rough day, so I thought I could use 
something to pick me up." His smile fell away. He raised a shaking hand 
towards his face, noticed the bloody knuckles and torn skin, and placed it 
back on the armrest. "Bill was there, talking to a friend of his. I was going 
to go over and say hi, but then I heard what he was talking about. So I just 
sat there and listened. Do you know what he was talking about?"

        "No..." Angela's voice shook.

        Franks arm flung out and smashed the picture of them, on their wedding 
day, to the floor. He leaned forward over the table between them and snarled, 
"He was talking about fucking you!" It was too much, Angela got to her feet, 
she had to get a way. Frank was up a second after her, but he was faster: 
blocking her path. "Sit down!" he yelled. Pointing at the chair, blood 
dripping from a cut the picture glass had torn across the back of his hand, he 
said again, "Sit down."

        Angela was scared. She'd never seen Frank like this. A moment of 
indecision went through her before she sat down again. Frank didn't sit; he 
just stood there for a second then started pacing. Blood dripped from his 
hand, but he was oblivious to it. Each drop stained the white carpet as he 
passed over it, ground in mercilessly by his constant tread. 

        "You know I thought that he was just talking about some conquest of 
his, one of the hundreds, until he mentioned that birthmark. Yea, not many 
women with a birthmark like that I'm sure. But I gave you the benefit of the 
doubt. It could have been anyone he was talking about." When Angela looked up 
she found that he was staring her right in the eye. "Then he mentioned fucking 
her in the kitchen. Said her husband was away on business. He had her buck 
naked and all sweaty, slammed up against the fridge. Said he was ramming her 
good." Angela could here the gritting of his teeth as he spoke. "'Screaming my 
name', he said, 'The bitch wanted all I could give her and more.' Said she 
didn't even want to stop when a crystal vase shattered on the floor." He 
started pacing again. "I remember when I got home from that business trip to 
Vancouver, I asked you what happened to the vase I bought you for our third 
anniversary; you said the cat had knocked it off the fridge and it smashed. 
The fucking cat!" Frank smashed his hand into the plaster wall, denting it, 
blood running down from the imprint of his fist. Angela couldn't look at him, 
she knew what she had done. She regretted doing it from the day it happened. 
But she was lonely and he was gone. It had just happened. She still loved 
Frank and only him.

        She looked up when she heard his sob wrench free. He was leaning his 
head against the wall. He seemed deflated, empty, leaning there. She wanted to 
rush to him, to hold him, but she couldn't move from her spot on the couch. 
"He said, 'She was a great fuck. I'm sure that next time Frank's out of town 
we'll be at it again.' How could you? I've never even looked at another woman. 
I loved you with all my heart."

        A pain clenched around her heart like a fist preparing to rip it free. 
Loved, she thought, he couldn't mean they were over; he couldn't! "Frank ... 
Frank, please!" She pleaded. Tears running down her face. "I didn't mean for 
it to happen. It just did. I don't love him."

        "And you fucking don't love me either!" Frank said pushing away from 
the wall as he staggered for the door.

        "I do love you!" She screamed after him. "Frank, please, I do love 
you!" But he just disappeared out the door, like he'd never heard her, 
slamming it shut behind him. Angela curled up and in on herself, as she cried, 
for how long she didn't know. After pulling herself together she got up and 
tried to clean up the blood and glass scattered over the floor.

        Hours passed as Angela waited up for him, hoping he would come back 
tonight. Midnight passed. Then two, then three am. She was sitting in the 
kitchen thinking about how she was going to fix this, how she'd make 
everything alright, when the knock on the door came. She rushed to it hoping 
it was Frank, but a panic was rising in her. When she opened the door and 
found a police officer standing there she wasn't sure what to think.

        "Mrs. Wright?" The officer asked in an official sounding voice. When 
she nodded he continued. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, but I have some bad 
news. Your husbands been killed in a car crash. He seems to have been drinking 
and hit a light pole. He didn't have his seatbelt on. I'm sorry." Angela's 
legs folded under her no longer able to support her weight. The officer rushed 
forward helping her up and over onto the couch. "I'm really very sorry ma'am." 
The officer said. "Do you need me to call anyone for you?" She shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" She nodded. "Well, we'll need you to come down to the morgue 
sometime tomorrow to identify the body. Again, I'm sorry." If he said anything 
else or did anything before he left Angela didn't notice.

        One mistake, one night of passion had destroyed her life. Curling up 
on the couch she cried like she'd never done before, until sleep finally 
overcame her.

Naive
-------------------------------------------
  ~ A child of five would understand this.
    Send someone to fetch a child of five. 
    -- Groucho Marx (1895-1977) ~
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       http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/naive/www/
-------------------------------------------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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