Just about the time when all is well on a very late Sunday evening and very early Monday morning… I come out of my skin when the telephone rings to a phone number that I do not recognize.
Strike two already. So I wait it out and screen the phone call only to hear on the other hand something or someone that I “think” is from the parts of my darkest past.
There was a lot of slurred words and I would blame either fatigue or alcohol for that but then I wonder still how they got my telephone number at home?
This woman was a part of my life back in the mid to late 1990’s that I would love to take that gizmo-thing from MEN IN BLACK and wipe my memory with.
She was probably at best the local Whore of Babylon. Or at least the small town that I had lived in at the time with less than 1,300 people living there. After a few years of living there and it being my forced entry into those first years of living on my own as an adult, there wasn’t a lot of stuff you could do without it being spread around like wildfire.
But there she was this evening, tonight, whatever. Kris had found me so to speak. I never picked up the telephone to talk to her.
The last that I knew what had happened to Kris was that she left her husband and all of her children behind to go be with a man. She had seven children in all. But to be fair there were two sets of twins. The oldest two and the youngest two. So the children were kinda wedged between sets of twins. None of them identical however.
I do not know if that is true or not as the person that had told me about her abandoning her family died shortly after I spoke to him due to a heart condition he’d always had but I never got the chance to ask him about it even though he spoke about it on a regular basis.
Anyways, Kris is within driving distance of my home. She stated nothing about her children, her husband that I knew that she had at the time or anything else. Just that she had heard that I was in the certain area and if that was true…. then she wanted to get together for old time’s sake.
This wouldn’t mean that she would stop by, sit down, talk about things and catch up. This meant that she would stop by, strip down, talk about what to do and then proceed to attempt why her pussy is made of pure gold.
It happened once before. Actually twice. And had the potential of being three times. But it was a dangerous situation for many reasons.
First off- seven children. The last time that I saw any of those children back in the 90’s the oldest set of twins were not quite teenagers. About 12 years old, and the youngest set of twins was 5 or 6, with three children in between. Kris actually had her first delivery of twins when she was 16 years of age.
Her husband was an alcoholic but I never saw it in plain sight. It would take for me to leave and go home and be away from the entire family before I would see signs of “okay, this is so very wrong.” He drank beer and tons of it. It didn’t matter what kind either. As long as it was in a can. Size didn’t matter.
Then one evening as I went home on purpose because I could hear both the kids talking bad behind my back and the parents just allowing it…. I locked the doors and ignored whomever it was that was knocking and banging on the windows at around 2:00 AM.
The following summer morning I went back to the house without any plans on staying there. Only to find out that Kris was at work. At a liquor store no less. Go figure. Enabling everything under the sun.
But her husband was not at home. Instead Kris’s stepfather was in the home and he was trying to get the kids away from the front door and back in the house before any of the family’s drama and business got leaked out.
The husband was in jail. Apparently he was so hammered that night that he came banging at 2:00 AM at my place that he returned home, woke up everyone in the house and threatened to kill his wife and her children if he didn’t get any more beer with a kitchen knife. Kris called the law.
I remember that he was gone for a good long time. And I somehow, some way ended up being like this live-in babysitter during that one summer month.
But having a reputation, she had brought in so many men into her bedroom as I laid on the couch watching late night television while all seven children were upstairs asleep. Whore of Babylon indeed.
There was ONE time that she begged me to stay with her because she was afraid and terrified that her husband might break out of the county jail and come to the house and do something to her. But that honestly was a bunch of crap. She simply didn’t find any guy to bring home with her. And I was there. And I was male.
But the “Hell No!” campaign would not last long at all as the husband was finally released from jail. But he had a restraining order against him for a short time. He was originally supposed to spend that first night out of jail at my apartment but he found a way to sneak back into the house and Kris LET him come back. After all this talk during that month of “It’s over. I’m done with his drunkenness. I’m tired of him being lazy and not working. I’m divorcing.”
The rest of the summer I lived in fear as I found myself living in their house like a summer home. Thankfully I never found myself having to cover for them or lie to the police about their family business. Eventually the restraining order died off and things were back to the way they were.
One afternoon, I left their house and never said why. They went into a panic as I peddled my adult three-wheeled bicycle off of their front yard and into the street, promising that I would return.
A very blustery day that I went to get my check and cash it. I bought a few essential things and then intended to deal with rent and bills later.
The Christmas before, they had given me a leather jacket that the husband couldn’t fit into.
I remember it so well that my life had hit rock bottom so hard with this family and I struggled to get back on my feet and away from them completely.
I was watching “Night Of The Living Dead” on late night television back when Joe Bob Briggs was hosting on the weeknights. And Kris’s husband came into the living room with the only thing illuminating the living room was the soft black and white glow of the television screen. He asked me to go into their bedroom and he said that he wanted to watch me fuck Kris to see if he would get excited. Kris for whatever reason told him that he would enjoy it.
After many times of saying “NO!” the pressure just wouldn’t stop. I crumbled and then it was on like Donkey Kong. But he wanted me to actually take a wash cloth and wash up around my junk. And he gave me a marijuana joint to “calm me” down.
By the time I did what they asked, it was going on close to 4:30 in the morning. And I was also told that I could not wear my leather jacket because I was NOT The Fonz. That I had to take it off. Not only that but he had so many rules of “DO NOT” do this or that. Do not kiss her do not make her go down on me, do not suck her tits. But the thing that stuck out was that I had to leave my jacket behind.
I knew that was a problem because my wallet was in the inside pocket. And I just knew something terrible was going to happen one way or another. Either he’d attack me physically while in the middle of it all or whatever. But it was him that was supposed to be watching in the dark.
I was right to be concerned as five minutes into this whole ordeal, just seconds after I penetrated Kris, the husband left the bedroom. Moments later, the stereo that I had brought into their house was BLARING music so loud that it was shaking the walls. Right then and there, I knew something was wrong because seven children were upstairs were supposed to be sleeping. But Kris kept me busy that I couldn’t exactly just stop and investigate what her husband was doing.
I still to this day cannot figure out whether or not they had planned this together or that he acted alone.
But at the end of it all I went back to the couch to sleep and I took that leather jacket as a blanket and crashed.
Upon being woke up at 7:00 AM in the morning by the youngest pair, I checked the pockets of the leather jacket. Only to find that ALL of my pockets were empty.
I would find my wallet on the counter in the kitchen, but it was absolutely empty. I had been robbed. Kris was my whore for the evening and very expensive indeed.
I explained that I was pissed to the husband to which he went upstairs to “talk to the children” about stealing and to find out who had my money. But of course, none of them had it. He did. So he came back downstairs saying that nobody had it. Still… the money was gone. So someone did.
I was done. I never went back over there again. Even though I was very well liked by the seven children. And Kris loved the company too that I gave. But all her husband wanted to do was drink beer, get drunk, and screw. He would tell me disgusting tales of how he would be sleeping in the nude and the oldest daughter would come sneaking into their bedroom and she would go down on him and he would “try to get her off” but would fail.
Again, keep in mind the stories coming from the mind of a drunk about a 12 year old little girl who was his stepdaughter.
I wanted to vomit and I told him to leave my home.
Suddenly they left town. Moved away. I had no idea where they all were. Come to find out that the husband was supposedly in rehab and that Kris was 30 miles away living closer to her family but driving the 30 miles back into the small little town as a cashier at a convenience store. Again she said that she was leaving him and again I never believed her to begin with. I just knew that he wasn’t around.
When she found out that I was still in town, she picked me up and took me to her place and again she was insisting on another night of passion, claiming that the one night she begged me to be with her in her bedroom that I would’ve been laid that night too.
For whatever reason she was soooooooooo adamant about having sex. But looking back all these years, she probably was addicted to it.
The following morning her children (who had spent the night at grandma’s) were brought back to their mother and had to get ready to go to school. Kris had to go back to work at the store and had planned to drop me off at home any ways. But one of the sons faked being sick and convinced Kris of it. So there was nothing more than that. But I would get hints and secrets and whispered conversations about how she was comparing me to her husband sexually. Apparently I was some Adonis in comparison in all ways.
But I never found anything mind blowing about it. In fact it frightened me to think about all of the men she may or may not have been with before she even looked at me. It scared me that her oldest daughter was growing up and already a D-cup at the age of 14 and on the same path of possibly getting pregnant at 16, the same as her mother with her.
Probably a year and a half later they all were back together…. the nine of them. The husband still with the family and still having these same “experiences” of the eldest daughter being naughty.
If she was doing this– how in the world was the mother not catching on to this if it was going on in the middle of the night while everyone was sleeping? The mother would wake up from the commotion. So how did Kris not intervene??
I shortly moved about an hour south and probably visited twice back to the same small town. The last time I had done so, Kris and her husband and her seven children were three hours away in another direction in another city.
But the story of Kris that had left her husband for another man and abandoning all seven children and leaving them all with that alcoholic which tends to make the brain think the worst things possible after hearing what I had come from his mouth. I think they were more fantasies he had rather than experiences that he couldn’t stop or control.
Now Kris is in the same area code, nearly twenty years later… and its scary as shit since there was no mention of any significant other or mention of her children. Nobody knows where they are at all.
Like I said, it was from darkest and lowest points in my life and I don’t need to go back to that kind of thing because nobody wins. Thankfully, I’m still clean to this day which could have been a disaster.
Not all pursuits of getting laid are worth it in life.