The story so far:
Married White Female - November 20th by scryier
November 20th : 8:30 AM
Yesterday, when Anna took the kids to school, I called Frank Bayles. It was an impulsive call. I had no idea what I was going to say to him. I even thought of hanging up, but he picked up on the third ring.
“Bayles,” he said.
I wanted to hang up. I could feel my arm aching to move, straining to pull away from my ear and hit the off button.
“This is detective Bayles,” he said. “Is anyone there? Hello, hello.”
Hi. This is Mrs. Henderson.
“Henderson, Henderson.” He repeated the name a few more times and then he remembered. “Oh yes! Mrs. Henderson. How are you? How are the children coming along.”
I told him that the children were seeing a berievemant counsler, twice a week, That they cried at times. They were going through the motions at school, but I believed they would adjust. I thought they would be fine. Kids are like that. Kids are very resilient.
“Yes. They are,” he said. “And you. You called because?”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. I didn’t know why I called and then I knew why I called but I didn’t know if I could bring myself to say anything.
“Hello. Mrs Henderson?”
There’s nothing in the basement.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean, there is nothing in the basement. There’s alway something in the basement. There are pipes in the basement and water heaters and-”
We didn’t keep anything in the basement. We never go down there. We put a door lock on the door because we didn’t want the kids to go down there. We were afraid. We were afraid they would open the door, fall down the stairs and break-.
My words trailed off. My words died. One minute they were there and the next they were dead, gone but not forgotton.
“So what exactly are you telling me?”
I can’t think of any reason in the world why he would have gone upstairs for the key and then opened the door to go into the basement.
“Have you asked Anna?”
She said she was in the den watching TV.
“Is that what she told you?”
She told me she was in the den watching the news.
“Would you like me to come by?”
Yes. No. She’ll be back soon. I don’t want her to know I called.
“You don’t want Anna to know you called. Is there something you’re not telling me about Anna?”
I can’t talk anymore. She’ll be back soon. We can meet somewhere. I can call you again. I just don’t want her to know that I called, right now.
I hung up the phone.
I heard the car pull into the driveway. I shut down the computer and ran off to the bed. I was lying in the bed and she was downstairs and then she was upstairs at the foot of the bed. She was holding a pill bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
“You’ve been naughty,” she said coming around to the edge of the bed. She put the glass on the end table and pulled down the zipper of her jeans.
“I guess I have to push the pills down.”
She grabbed the back of my hair and pulled so hard, I screamed. She stuck the pill in my mouth and then her manhood. She pushed my head against her belly and pinched my nose. I was gasping. I felt like I was choking. I swallowed the pill and half of what followed before she let me go, saliva and cum spilling out of my mouth, my nose. I had no love for Anna, anymore. I had to get away from her. I had to get the kids away from her. She still held my hair bunched up in her hand.
“I love your phones,” she said. “You can always tell what calls come in and what calls go out, but I should think you know that. Didn’t you know that?”
There were tears in my eyes.
“You and I are going to be so happy together. You’ll see.”
She pulled back on my hair and forward and back and forward. My head nodding in grotesque fashion and then the pill started to bring the fog and the numbness and thank-god, the sleep. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to get as far away from her as I could and I could do that in my sleep. I could be with Rob again. He loves me. He visits me. I see him every night in my dreams.
'Married White Female - November 20th' statistics: (click to read)