Linda's Legacy - Sex Stories

Linda's Legacy

... the time, and we barely saw the sun. I bought this dress to go out for Valentines' day that year, but our plans had to be canceled. We ended up staying in with the two of you, and Jim never saw the dress. To make things worse, it was a leap year, so we had an extra day of that dreadful month.

"At the time, I was friends with a group of women and their husbands. I don't even remember all their names, now. As couples, we were all polite and jovial, but when it was just us girls, well, you never saw such a scheming, cackling, backstabbing coven of shrews. We were always going on about what sluts we'd be whenever the right stud came along. One girl, Dee, made a habit of stepping out on her husband and then bragging about it to the rest of us. Another one of us was making plans to have an affair with a co-worker and we all conspired to help her. Thankfully, her man wised up and it never got that far. I never actually did any of that, until the day I did.

"There was a local sports hero who liked to go out to bars and clubs where he'd prey upon married women, snatching them away from their husbands. I think that humiliating the men was the part he enjoyed the most. He'd take the ladies back to his hotel suite and give them the fucking of their lives, trying to ruin them for all other men forever. He was a real hunk, he was big and strong and rich and famous and powerful, so he could get away with it, over and over again. His hunting grounds were a kind of an open secret for ...

... women who wanted to be 'chosen.' I have no idea how many marriages he destroyed, but it was more than a few. He'd made a game of it.

"One of those places was a dinner-dance hall that had an arrangement with the hotel. Our little crew of cheaters and wannabes decided we'd take our men there on the last day of February, leap night, to reconnect with our spouses and each other. You and Tommy were staying overnight with the Porters and we all had hotel rooms. What our husbands didn't understand was that showing up there with our men was like buying raffle tickets. Marc LaValliere would be taking one lucky lady away for the evening and making her his whore. That was why the night out was so exciting for us girls."

My eyes went to the screen. Marc LaValliere. The commentator on the left. His name was in a graphic under his chest.

"Yes, that's him. Or, as you came to know him, that's 'Mommy's Asshole Boyfriend.'"

The bottom fell out of my reality and I was instantly dizzy and sick.

"Asshole."

"You remember?"

"Not really. Something about spending the night at Nana and Pe-pop's. And dad was... gone for a while. You were really sad."

"You were six years old. We did what we could to protect you. I wouldn't expect you to remember any of this. Your father vanished for weeks. I only saw him once in all that time. We met with a marriage counselor, a 'neutral third party,' so that I wouldn't 'manipulate' him or try to get him 'back under control,' as he put it. He was ...