Charity Begins At Home

Charity was leaning over a desk, with her skirt around her waist and her panties down around her ankles. A big, dirty, guy was slamming his dick into her from behind."

I stopped, but only for a second to compose my thoughts. Hope didn't say anything. But she wrapped her arms more tightly around me, which only brought my dick even closer to the promised land. If we weren't both fully clothed, I would have been inside of her.

"Charity and I weren't prudish, Hope. We had what I had always considered a good sex life. We played with toys. We tried out new things and we even watched porn together. We liked porn. It gave us ideas for positions and generally, ramped us up from time to time.

But after seeing Charity bent over that desk, I never wanted to watch anyone else have sex again. It was surreal. There was this big, dirty guy. He smelled and he still had all of his clothes on. None of his clothes matched. He even had his coat and a hat on. He had gloves on and the fingers of the gloves had holes in them where you could see some of his fingers.

His pants were down around his ankles too. His underwear were so dirty they looked brown.

As big as he was, he hadn't been eating regularly, so his naked legs and hips had that gaunt almost skeletal look. You could see the muscles in his legs and thighs flexing every time he thrust into her.

Charity on the other hand, as I've told you hadn't missed many meals. She was fleshy, and while she wasn't obese, she was a bit over-weight. She was kind of flabby. I told you before that with me being so in love with her, I saw her, despite her flaws as being the sexiest woman alive ..."

"I remember, Honey," said Hope, urging me on.

"It's funny, because for most of my life, I've believed that old story about how you can't just stop loving someone. They always say that if you really love someone, you can't turn it off and on. I have wondered about those guys that marry a woman and then beat the shit out of her while claiming they love her. But I'm getting away from my point.

I guess I had always seen Charity through the guise of love. But standing there, holding that fucking cake in one hand, watching that guy fuck Charity ... I lost every iota of love I'd ever had for her.

It was like gutter porn. It was like watching a bum in an alley, fucking a flabby old homeless woman. She was no longer pretty, or sexy, or any of that. She was just an over the hill, out of shape old fat woman with too high an opinion of herself, getting railed by a guy who smelled like days old piss and mildew.

In the years since I split with Charity, I've read my share of those Internet stories about cheating wives. In all of those stories, the husband who catches his wife, or the wife who catches her husband, they always seem to have the presence of mind to whip out that iPhone and take photos or videos to use in their divorce.

I have an iPhone, Hope. But pulling it out was the farthest thing from my mind. The only things on my mind were confusion ... My brain simply wouldn't process what it saw. It kept trying to make synaptic connections to draw a logical conclusion that somehow made sense, but there were no connections to be made.

My brain kept telling me that Charity was my wife. I loved her and she loved me. Then my eyes showed me the scene before me. It was some big, dirty, smelly guy, fucking her. The two trains of thought didn't fit together. My mind couldn't come up with any reason for it. I was the only guy who was supposed to fuck Charity. I had already done it that morning. It made no sense. There were no synaptic connections to be made. Trying to make one would have probably damaged my mind. So to save itself it purged all unproven information.

I think I felt it snap. It was as if something in my brain literally tore as my mental circuit breaker kicked out. And what I lost wasn't the sight before me. My eyes told me that what I was watching was 100% real. It was irrefutable. So what I lost was the unproven information. What I lost was the belief that Charity loved me or ever had. I also lost my love for her. It happened, despite all conjecture, in an instant.

One second, I was standing there smiling at that fat bitch, holding that fucking cake, and floating on the wings of love in the rapidly fading afterglow of morning sex ... And a pico-second later, I was watching some bum fucking a bitch I couldn't stand.

Nature abhors a vacuum. And since my synapses couldn't form a connection, my brain needed to fill that space with something. It filled it with anger. All of that had taken only an instant to occur.

The guy plowing Charity looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Hey, asshole, close the door. It ain't your turn yet."

"I already had my turn with this whore," I spat, through clenched teeth. He must've sensed something in my tone. Because although he kept fucking her; he turned his head to look at me.

"That's a big assed cake," he gushed stupidly. "Can I get a piece of that?"

"Why not," I smirked. I took the clear plastic cover off of the cake. "You've already had a piece of my big assed wife."

I slammed the cake into his face so hard that it twisted his neck. He fell heavily onto the desk, knocking Charity down in the process. The guy, was much bigger than I am and probably under normal circumstances much stronger. But he hadn't been eating well. He was caught in a compromising situation. And his pants were down around his ankles.

In trying to get away from me, he knocked the shit out of Charity. She fell to the floor. But I was relentless, smashing the large heavy cake in his face. He couldn't breathe and he grabbed me. He was already falling over his pants and we hit the floor together. I landed on top of him, with my knee conveniently smashing his nuts. All of my one hundred and eighty five pounds, multiplied by the force of gravity, crushed his grapes like a hammer landing on an anvil.

His scream was like the way those women in the horror movies did it, only a hundred times louder. What happened afterwards is not something I'm proud of. It wasn't really a fight.

I don't even think that he was aware of all of the blows I rained down on him. He was too busy cradling his shattered nuts and screaming. And for my part, I wasn't in control of my mental faculties either. As I continued kicking the shit out of him, I was too busy cradling the image of my shattered marriage in my mind.

But his screaming did have an effect. It brought a lot of people from the floor below up to us. It took three men to pull me off of him. They quickly dragged me away from him. The last image I had as they pulled me out of the door was the woman I had spoken to before. She was in shock as she looked at Charity lying back on the floor with her skirt still around her waist. Her plump thighs were splayed open and everyone in the room could see that hairy fat pussy winking obscenely.

I guess I was lucky that the people who pulled me off of that bastard handled it the way they usually handled a fight between the people in the homeless shelter. They dragged me down the stairs and threw me off of the porch, telling me not to ever come back.

I had no intention of doing that. As you said, I didn't want to go home. I was sure that would be the first place Charity would go when she got her wits about her. Like most wounded animals I needed security and family around me, so I went to Lisa's place. While we watched football, they kept asking me where Charity was.

I think I held it together pretty well until she showed up. I talked to my daughter and daughter in law. I also watched the game, or most of it, with my son and son in law. The house was full of love until Charity ran into the house wailing and tried to hug me.

I pushed her away from me as hard as I could. Charity fell back over the sofa and landed in a heap on the floor. All of our children looked at me as if I had gone insane.

"Just stay the fuck away from me, Charity," I yelled. "Don't come back to the house. You can send Lisa over tomorrow, to get your clothes and anything else you need. Don't call me. Don't stop by."

As you said, they figured that all I needed was time to calm down. But then they didn't know what had happened between us. Neither did you. And apparently Charity never told any of you. She just let it go on with everyone thinking I was the bad guy and I had just thrown her out like garbage.

I guess no one ever noticed that there was no other woman. And no one ever bothered to ask about my side of things. So it just seemed to me that you had all made your choices and you all chose Charity over me."

"Are you insane?" asked Hope. "Honey, for my part, you were as angry as a bear. There were so many times that I called you and just didn't know what to say, so I hung up when you answered. My number is unlisted so it doesn't show anything on caller ID. I always called you on every holiday and your birthday. Even when you did answer the phone you sounded so angry, that I just figured it wasn't the right time. Last week was the first time you actually sounded human."

"And as for your kids," she said. "They're still reeling from seeing you push their mother over the couch and screaming at her. Charity has never given anyone a clue as to what really happened. I'm still reeling from it myself. How could she?

And she played the martyr role to the hilt. You should have been there a few months after the divorce, when she announced that since you were so upset about her volunteer work; that she was giving it up in an attempt to get you back."

"She tried to get Lisa to call you and tell you about it, but I'm sure you remember how that phone call went. As soon as Lisa mentioned her mother's name you hung up the phone. She never gave it up, did she? After they caught her slutting around on that Thanksgiving, they fired her and word got around until she couldn't volunteer anywhere. She played us all."

"We were also pretty upset about the fact that you insisted that the old house be sold. It tore Charity apart. She had gotten loans and even got all of us to help her buy you out. That house held so many memories for all of us. But I can see how even thinking about it must have tortured you. God ... We should have known better. We should have asked." Suddenly, she just stopped talking.

I felt the magnetism getting stronger then. And in the end, the magnetism won. Our lips met, tenderly in the nicest kiss I had ever experienced. There was no tongue, and while passionate, the kiss was very gentle. It was as if someone had just melted fresh strawberries over my lips and sprinkled them with something so sweet it defied description.

She tasted just the way I always thought she would. And when we pulled back, she sighed and genuinely blushed. Her cheeks were so rosy that they stood out against her milky skin.

"That was the best kiss ever," she gushed. She got up and started gathering her clothes.

"Hope, where are you going?" I asked. There was a note of frustration in my voice.

"Stop whining, Honey," she smirked. "After that kiss, dynamite couldn't blow us apart. Have a little faith. I already told you that Charity would hate it if you and I spoke to each other. She'd come unglued if she thought that you and I were together. The way she constantly talks about you, she and I could never be friends again."

"So where are you going?" I asked again.

"Since we're going to be alone for Thanksgiving, I have to go buy a turkey, the fixings for some side dishes and ... " she smiled at me. " ... some Lingerie!"

She flashed me that smirk again. I was beginning to realize that redheads have a very peculiar sense of humor. "Then," she continued. "I have to break up with my best friend!"

As she grabbed her coat and headed for the door, she caught me watching that ass jiggle as she moved. I saw that smirk again and she jiggled it just a bit more putting her coat on. "I think I'm going to need a key," she said. And then she was gone.

She came back a few hours later. A lot of her swagger was gone.

"I saw Charity," she said quietly. "I told her I had spoken to you. She was happy at first. She asked me when I could get the two of you together. She was so excited. We were at Lisa's house. She asked me how you were. She told me I was the best friend ever.

Then I told her that we had talked and that I knew why you divorced her. She told Lisa to leave, but Lisa stayed.

Charity told me that I didn't understand. She told me that you didn't understand and that she had never been given the chance to explain it to you. She said that you had your work and your car to make you feel fulfilled. And she had nothing.

Her work with the poor and the homeless had given her a purpose. But she wanted to give them something more than just a meal or a coat. She wanted to give them the motivation to get their lives back on track.

"Instead you gave them pussy," I told her.

"It didn't hurt anyone," she spat. "And it got them out there, going to interviews and trying to make something of themselves. No one got hurt."

"What about Gary?" I asked. "Are you going to tell me that walking in on you with some bum didn't turn him inside out? And then you let everyone think that he was just being selfish. He loved you more than anything else in the world. He only showed up at the shelter to help you. You even let his kids think this was entirely his fault."

"I'll make it all up to him, Hope," she said. "Now that you've gotten to him, I can talk to him. I can make him see how things are and we can all be happy again. "

"Mom, is any of this true?" asked Lisa. "Did you really do that? You cheated on Dad?"

"Lisa, stay out of this," spat Charity. "Go to your room!"

"Mom, I'm twenty four year old," said Lisa. "This IS my room. It's MY kitchen. In fact, it's my fuckin' house. Now answer the question."

"Look as soon as I talk to your father, this will all be fine," whined Charity. "Your father just over reacted. He beat a man nearly to death. He loves me too much and I ..."

"It's always about you isn't it mother," screamed Lisa. "My father missed the birth of his first grandchild because you needed to whore yourself out. How does he get that back?"

"Actually, he was there," I said. Lisa smiled.

"So when Hope gets me and your dad back together, he can talk to her and make up for lost time," Charity said.

"Actually that's not going to happen," I said. "He's suffered enough. And he's finally happy with someone else."

I guess my happiness must be showing. Lisa didn't react or notice anything but Charity did.

"It's you!" she screamed suddenly. "You are not taking my husband, you fucking bitch."

"And that's how I lost my best friend," she said. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close.

"Sorry," I said.

"You're gonna have to take her place," she whined. The next few days were sweet. I had taken the week of Thanksgiving off, and Hope doesn't work. We spent most of Monday and Tuesday, moving some of her stuff into my house. It all seemed to be coming together so quickly, but by the time you're our age, you have a sense of what's going to work and what isn't.

Our days were filled with learning more about each other, but truthfully we'd known each other for more than twenty years. We did most of our learning about each other at night. And we went to bed pretty early and stayed there pretty late.

We had a lot in common, including the fact that both of us, worked out zealously. She had her yoga classes, and her spin classes. I had my weights and my running.

Thursday morning came and we woke up. As usual we were wrapped in each other's arms.

"I know this is all moving really quickly," I said. "But I want you to know that I love you, Hope."

"I think it's moving along just fine," she smirked. "But I love you too. Now are you done molesting me, for a little while so I can cook us a turkey?"

"Hmm, I don't think I'll ever be done molesting you," I said.

It was the best Thanksgiving I remember. We did everything together, the way it was supposed to be. Neither one of us wanted to be anywhere else. I was happy where I was. And I had faith that Hope's Charity, began and stayed home.

Just before I checked the turkey, during a commercial in the Lions' Thanksgiving Day game against the Bears; someone knocked at my door. "Hope, get the door, Honey," I screamed.

"I'm busy," she yelled back.

I went into the living room. "You don't look busy to me," I said. Hope was sitting on the sofa waiting for me to return. She had managed to button her blouse back up which confused me.

"I have no idea why you closed your blouse up," I smirked. "I'm only going to unbutton it again so I can ..." Hope put her fingers over my lips to silence me.

"Why are you shushing me?" I smirked.

"Uhm, probably so your grandchild doesn't hear whatever you were getting ready to say," said a voice from behind me.

I turned to find my daughter, Lisa, standing behind me. In one hand she held the hand of her two year old daughter. The other held a dish of some sort.

"Hi Daddy," she gushed. "I just had to come and see you. You shouldn't be alone on Thanksgiving."

I held out my arms and she ran into them. I hugged her as tightly as I could and then dropped to my knees to hug my granddaughter.

Lisa and I talked as I played with Greta. Before long though, someone else knocked on the door. While Lisa and Greta hid in the bedroom, Hope went to the door. I looked up, hoping that whoever it was would leave quickly.

It was my son, Tony and my son in law, Steve, Lisa's husband.

"I heard from sis, what really happened with you and Mom, Dad," said Tony. "Steve and I thought that it was terrible for you to be here alone on the holiday. So we came over to watch the game with you."

"Holy shit!" said Steve. "Look at the size of that TV."

"Uh, Dad, so you have snacks or should we order Pizza," asked Tony.

"Wow, I guess me being here has a purpose after all," smirked Hope. She got up and both men noticed her.

"Oh, hi Aunt Hope," I guess you're like my step mom now," said Tony. "Do you have any snacks?"

Lisa picked that moment to come out of the bedroom.

"Steve, you're supposed to be going to the game," she hissed. "You're also supposed to be dieting. No snacks for you, Tubby."

"No snacks, Daddy," echoed Greta, giggling. She ran back over and took my hand.

At that moment someone knocked on the door again. "Holy Shit!" said Hope.

"It's like a train station in here. Oops, sorry Greta." she opened the door and in walked my daughter in law Kelly. She too was carrying a dish.

"At the game, huh Tony?" she said.

"What are you doing here, Honey Bun?" asked Tony.

"Well, I knew your Dad has always loved my macaroni and cheese with tomato and bacon. And since he was going to be alone on ..."

Hope just started laughing. With the pie that Lisa had brought. The mashed potatoes that Hope had already made and the macaroni and cheese that Kelly brought, all we needed was a vegetable dish of some sort. The three women put their heads together to work on that while my granddaughter Greta crawled into my lap.

"I wanna see Spongebob," she said. She had folded her arms across her chest and stuck her lip out, the same way a certain redhead always did. Tony, Steve and I looked at Hope. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel.

"Dad, no!" yelled Tony. "It's almost halftime. The Lions are actually winning. But they never win the Thanksgiving game. I know they're going to lose. I just want to see how they manage to fuck up this big of a lead."

"Relax," I said. I went and got my iPad.

"Dad you're brilliant," said Steve. "She can watch Spongebob on your iPad."

"Wanna watch SpongeBob on the big TV," giggled Greta.