1. No More Februarys


    Date: 8/18/2024, Categories: Loving Wives, Author: bySelfTherapy 

    No More Februarys

A fantasy becomes a nightmare

Here we go, my first Literotica story, and my first creative writing in four decades. I hope at least some of the feedback helps me do better next time.

This is yet another ending for George Anderson's "February Sucks". I think what I have is reasonably original. If not, apologies to whoever I'm channeling; I'm pretty sure I haven't read your story but I'd like to. A deep bow and hat off to George and to the multiple great authors who've already entertained and upset us with variations on his gut-wrenching original. I tried to make this as close to a stand-alone story as possible while still clearly picking up George's characters and story. Consider everything up to the point were Jim leaves the club unchanged.

This is definitely not a RAAC, and not really a BTB, although Linda doesn't like the ending. There is no sex. I don't want to give away my ending, but be warned: I've had a dark February myself. Not as black as Jim's, but I definitely had some mental poison to drain and I put it here. If the ending triggers someone I apologize in advance. Be safe and go hug someone who needs a friend.

ooooooooooooo

The gray Toyota pulled up to the gate of a large house on a cul-de-sac near the back of an expensive new housing development. The sun had risen over an hour ago, but it still felt early on this first day of March, cold but not nearly as bad as a couple of weeks earlier. And no snow for a nice change.

About ...
    ... a minute later a woman in a blue dress walked out of the house; someone closed the door behind her. It was not a dress someone would choose on a weekend morning; it was a party dress and the woman was obviously headed home after a one night stand. Another "Ride of Glory" for Uber. Sigh. The driver hated she spent so many weekend mornings bringing people home from their hookups. How could these people just give their bodies away? She longed for her husband, not the sex although it was very good, but the peace and security of knowing they were together forever, fighting for a better world: she against a system that seemed to want kids turned into corporate drones, he against the low-lifes spreading drugs and violence to older kids who hadn't grown up.

But weekend mornings were better than driving the late evenings, and as a teacher she couldn't drive on weekdays except during summer. The other drivers were calm and sober, and the passengers were usually quiet. She liked quiet, it made this second job to support her son less stressful. After burying her husband fifty years too soon, she needed the money and definitely didn't need any more stress.

The woman got in, mumbled in response to the driver's good morning, confirmed the destination and sat back looking tired and maybe a bit worried. There wasn't any glow, the driver noted, evidently the night had fallen short of expectations.

All was silent in the car as it backed out into the street and wound its way out of the ...
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