The Cruel Wife Returns
A New
Start
I had no money, no job and nowhere
to live. So I scrounged what I could get
off of the streets. I was arrested twice
for vagrancy but when the judge heard my tale, he let me off both times. And then one day a kind old woman saw me
begging, wearing my tattered and dirty French Maid's uniform and offered me a
place to stay in exchange for me doing some of her housework for her. She even loaned me some of her dead husband's
clothes to wear. It was a joy to get out
of those dirty clothes and into fresh and clean ones, but I have to tell you it
felt strange to be in denim and flannel instead of satin and lace.
Mrs. Morris was a very kind
soul. She did expect me to cook and
clean in exchange for my meals and lodging but she was not demanding and in no
way was she cruel. We spent many
evenings after dinner sitting out on her back patio, sipping a glass of
wine. She urged me to tell her my story
and became so fascinated by it that she suggested that I begin writing it down,
first as a diary and then as a book. Of
course I changed the names, which probably did no good as everyone I had ever
met had already seen my cuckold videos or had seen me in action as I waited on
them while they were in bed with Ruth.
It took me a long time to finish the
story and an even longer time finding someone willing to publish it. It started out small but soon it caught on
and before I knew it I was making enough in royalties so that I could actually
afford my own place to live. And that
was just in time as one day when I went to serve Mrs. Morris her breakfast I
found her still in her bed. She had
passed peacefully in the night. So once
again I was on my own.
I found a nice cozy little apartment
not far from the downtown district. It
was nice to be able to walk most places I needed to go, as my driver's license
had run out long ago and I did not have a vehicle to use to take the test to
get it reinstated. And as my book
continued to sell I found that if I needed to go some place beyond walking
distance, I could afford to take a cab.
My biggest problem was
loneliness. I had no friends and my
family was not on speaking terms with me, so most nights it was just 100
channels of cable television and me.
So I started taking walks down to
the local pub. I made friends easily
enough until one of them would come across my videos that were still
circulating on the Internet and then although I was in the middle of a crowded
bar I was once again alone.
Fortunately, my publisher arranged a book tour and I was kept busy for
the vast majority of my days autographing copies of my book in various
bookstores and libraries. It was hard
for me to believe that people actually wanted my signature on their book but
those same people would shun me in a social setting.
During the course of these events, I
did start to meet a few women who were willing to go out with me to dinner or
for cocktails. It didn't take long for
me to discover that they were not really interested in my conversation but in
what my money could buy for them. I had
one bad experience after another and so I finally gave up.
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