Awakenings 3_(1)

AWAKENINGS 3
Well, here it is right after the holidays and I’m alone again while Stu is enjoying himself in London for three weeks. Like last year, I’d have to spend this New Year’s Eve alone again. I started writing this stuff for therapeutic reasons, a way to blow off steam for a while, but something makes me want to finish it now that I’ve gone this far. This may be my last story. I don’t know at this point. Can’t see any more happening to me that someone would want to read about. Also, can’t believe how my life has changed in such a short period. Thanks to Cleo (the lady who assisted me in writing these three episodes) for all her help. She has been able to capture my feelings almost exactly. Stu, my husband, is an asshole most of the time but he really doesn’t deserve this kind of shit. It is what it is, I guess. Okay, I’ll just get it all out in the open right up front. While he was gone, working his ass off for our livelihood, I was letting Randy fuck me. Well, actually . . . use me. Maybe not willingly, but . . . well, you’ll have to read Awakenings I and 2 to determine that for yourselves. I still feel terribly guilty about everything, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. Not at first anyway.

The first time I cheated on my husband, our neighbor Randy had doctored my food with some stuff he’d gotten overseas – and I just went sex-crazy for a while (Awakenings 1). Under its influence one night, he’d used me in every manner a man can use a woman – at least a dozen times – and because of the drug he’d administered without my knowledge, I’d loved every second of it. I’d slept only with my husband up to that point, and had been only vaguely aware any of those deviant sex acts existed. For me, sex had always been the vanilla variety. That night, Randy had abruptly introduced me to all the other flavors. For days afterward I’d thought about it, sometimes fanaticizing about the things he’d done to me, gradually becoming more and more sexually obsessed. Hot baths and a fast finger helped, but I was never able to replicate the same intensity I’d experienced that first night with Randy. The odd thing is, Randy doesn’t appeal to me in the least. I actually find him sort of disgusting.

With that said, I can now admit to myself that I must’ve somehow subconsciously orchestrated that second time with Randy, possibly wanting to relive the awesome experience just once more within my lifetime (Awakenings 2). That second encounter, Randy was more aware of how the drug worked, using only half the amount as the first time. The result was mind-blowing. Unlike the initial time when I’d felt spacey, disoriented and had blanked out off-and-on throughout the night, the second time, I was aware of everything he did to me. Otherwise, the results were identical – morals destroyed, nerve endings so sensitive they tingled, inhibitions totally absent, and a sexual appetite completely haywire to the point there was nothing I wouldn’t do – and I didn’t even know when I’d had enough. Anyway, you can call me a cheating wife – or a slut – and technically you’d be right, but life is not completely all black and white.

During this past holiday, Stu abruptly informed me he’d been told to travel to England the following day. I was devastated. I needed more time alone with him to make amends, help get those vivid images out of my mind – images of when I was bent over the back of my couch, Randy pounding his swollen meat into me – licking Randy’s cock, worshiping it – swallowing Randy’s thick sperm – well, you get the picture. I said I’d get it all out in the open, and I will. I don’t intend to spare myself in this, at all. As I also said, I spend a lot of time in hot baths, thinking about it. If the truth were known, I guess I really do want to try that Eastern Asia stuff called ‘love dust’ again, the stuff Randy bought, but I vowed I never would. The way I had reacted to it, scared me pretty bad. Additionally, I couldn’t believe I’d ever let someone like Randy touch me, allowing him to violate me so thoroughly. This was a guy who actually made me queasy when I looked at him. How could I have done it? He disgusts me! I hadn’t seen him since our . . . orgy. I’ll call it what it was. That was by design. I carefully avoid him each time I observe him passing through the courtyard. The same day of Stu’s departure however, we suddenly came face-to-face in the elevator. I suspect he’d been spying on me, waiting for Stu to leave on another business trip.

“Hi” he said, looking brash and confident.

I simply nodded, not replying.

“We have to talk,” he said.

I smiled much too sweetly, walking away. “Not today. Not ever. See ya.”

That night he called my cell phone. “How the hell did you get this number, Randy?” I half shouted.

“Don’t be mad, Katie. Please I have to tell you something.”

“Leave! Me! Alone!”

He sounded calm. “The information I have may affect your marriage. I must talk to you.”

A cold chill ran up my spine. I whispered, “You said you wouldn’t make trouble for me.”
“I didn’t. This is not about me. The police came by today asking for Tony. The Eastern guy I buy ‘dust’ from. He probably suspected something was up because he’d already left, gone back to Pakistan. The cops talked to all of us, and one of the cooks said they had apparently been following him because an officer went to his girlfriend’s house and questioned her too.”

I was shaking uncontrollably, unable to think straight, suddenly scared to death. Randy went on, “I have to go. I’m at work. Can I come by? We have to get our stories straight.”

“Come by? Fat chance!” I yelled into the phone.

“My condo then. I’ll be home by 3:30. Nothing will happen, trust me.”

“Trust you?” I laughed sarcastically, hanging up.

I cried all afternoon yesterday, looking for a way out. If Stu found out about this it would end our marriage. He was so straight-laced we only had sex in the missionary position. Well, maybe not that bad, but it would completely blow his mind to find out some of the stuff I’d let Randy do to me. Especially the anal sex. I’d never even let my husband near that, and I knew he really wanted to try it. He’d indicated he wanted to try oral too, but I wasn’t in for that either. In any event, it would certainly be over for us if he found out I’d done all those things with someone else, after denying him so often.

Okay, I’d go see Randy if I had to. I had no choice. I did have a choice about him ever touching me again though. I rang his doorbell yesterday afternoon at 3:30 sharp. He opened it wearing sweatpants and a tee-shirt that didn’t quite hide his flabby belly.