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The Cuckold’s Tale:

A Harsh Lesson


Andrea Martin


Copyright 2018 Andrea Martin

Smashwords Edition


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I hear footsteps. Creaking stairs. Low voices. I close my eyes and pull the covers up over my face and pretend to be asleep.

The bedroom door opens, spilling a thin bar of light across the floor. My mom looks in through the gap, making sure I’m asleep, making sure I’m safe, and closes the door again. My heart beats like I’m running a marathon. I hear her turn to my day and say, ‘Danny’s asleep.’

This is it, I think. It’s almost time.

I lay perfectly still in my dark bedroom, hidden under the covers, for what feels like an eternity. Through the walls, I can hear the muffled sounds of my parents getting ready for bed. Dull movement. Footsteps. Whispered voices. The muted click of the bedroom light being flicked off. Then the bed springs compressing as my mom and dad settle in for the night.

An eternity passes in total silence. I don’t move. I hardly dare to breathe. My heart leaps into my throat every time the wind sighs past the open window. Any moment, I expect the door to suddenly burst open and my dad to charge in, yelling, What the hell do you think you’re doing, Danny?

But nothing happens. The darkness of the night continues to deepen. The wind continues to sigh. I continue to hide in my bed, waiting for the right moment to put my long-awaited plan into motion.

After a long, agonizing wait, I finally hear the sound I’ve been waiting for. The low, rhythmic rumble of my dad’s deep, slow, throaty snoring from the other room. It’s finally time.

I press the button on my watch and the face bursts into bright, overwhelming life. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, blinded by the dials, then slowly open the lids again.

It’s two minutes to midnight. Two minutes until I am officially eighteen.

Two minutes until I am a man at last.

Her voice echoes through my mind once again. Her happy, delightful, sensuous voice, saying, I think I’m a little old for you. Maybe when you’re eighteen, huh?

Well, Ellie, I am almost eighteen. I am finally old enough for you. I waited.

And tonight I’m coming for you.


****


I slip out of bed, moving slowly, silently, channeling my inner ninja to keep my footsteps quiet and still my racing heart. I move effortlessly through the room, despite the deep, dense darkness of the night. Before I slipped into bed, I dressed in my clothes again to make this part easier. I didn’t want to risk my parents hearing the rustle of my shirt or jeans and asking me what I was doing getting dressed again at midnight.

This night has been years in the making. I’ve planned every tiny little detail. I’ve prepared myself mentally for this night every day since I first met Ellie. Every day since she first laughed her beautiful laugh and touched me on the cheek and told me that I needed to be older. Sweet, beautiful Ellie. The girl I’ve been dreaming about every night for five long years.

I’m not dreaming anymore. Tonight I’m gonna make it come true.

I crouch down and slide my hand under the bed. My fingers seize the torch I hid there three weeks ago in preparation for this night. The batteries are fresh and the torch works. I know because I tested it. I’ve left nothing to chance in this plan.

My fingers find the little rubber button on the smooth metal shaft. I press it. The torch explodes into life, brighter than the sun itself in the gloom of my bedroom. I aim it down at the floor, casting a perfect silver circle of light on the carpet. My heart hammers my ribs as though trying to punch through and escape my chest. What is this I’m feeling? Is it nerves? Is it fear? Adrenaline? Tension? Or the knowledge that a good kid like me never sneaks out of his parent’s home in the middle of the night? Maybe it’s all of the above.

I use the pool of light to find my way across the room, to my closed door. I pause, ears pricked, listening for the continued sounds of snoring. I hear them. My dad’s deep, rumbling snores. My mom is a quiet sleeper. She usually falls asleep listening to music because of dad’s incessant noisemaking. Even if she is awake, she won’t hear me now.

I glance at my watch. One minute to midnight. One minute until I’m old enough for the woman I love.

Time to go.

My fingers grasp the door handle. I feel a nervous tremble and force myself to pause and breathe, no matter how hard it is. My mind screams at me to GO-GO-GO, but I ignore it and focus on staying calm. My inner ninja senses stillness. I imagine a drop of water falling into an endless pool, sending black and silver ripples across the surface. It helps me settle.

Then I slowly turn the door handle. The freshly-cleaned lock silently disengages. I pull the door open a fraction, terrified that I will see the shape of my mom or dad standing in the dark hallway, waiting for me.

But, of course, they don’t. Nobody is there. Nobody knows about my plan tonight. Nobody knows what I’ve been intending to do the moment I turned eighteen. I’ve kept this secret deep in my heart for the past five years, carefully studying and nurturing and developing it Not even my best friends know. Part of my plan involves showing up tomorrow and introducing them all to Ellie.

Hey, fellas, I’ll say, gesturing to the beautiful woman on my arm. This is Ellie, the love of my life, the woman I’m gonna marry someday.

And my friends will all be so jealous! I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces tomorrow when they come to hang out for my birthday and realize I brought a date. Not just any date, though! I brought the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, intelligent woman in the world.

I never told them of my plans because I know what my friends are like. We spend all our time hanging out together, shooting the shit, trash talking, and roasting each other. If I told any of them about my feelings for Ellie, they would have torn me apart every single second of every single day. They would have talked about nothing else for the last five years. No, I couldn’t tell them about Ellie or about my plan to finally confess my feelings. I had to keep my cards close to my chest with this one.

I creep out into the dark hallway, keeping the torch pointed at the floor, away from the closed door of my mom and dad’s room just in case they can see any light shining on the carpet. The house is dark and silent, just as it should be at midnight in early fall. My dad’s slow, repetitive wheezes fill the silence – deep, long inhales and throaty exhales.

Perfect.

I close the door behind me and creep along the hallway. A floorboard creaks and I freeze, terror flooding my veins, heart almost stopping dead.

But nothing happens. My parents are fast asleep. My dad’s snoring continues. I hear no sound, no movement, not even a whisper of complaint. The world keeps turning, heedless of my midnight mission.

I press on, stepping carefully, avoiding the squeaky floorboards and the creaky areas, until I reach the top of the stairs. I’ve had five years to plan this descent. I know exactly how to get down this flight of stairs without making a sound.

Taking a deep breath – and imaging a drop of water falling into a pool again – I place my feet at the edges of the steps, to the extreme left and right of each stair. It’s the center of the stairs that will squeak and groan under pressure. The edges are much stronger, no matter how old and rickety the house.

I descend quickly and carefully, taking the stairs one at a time, picking out my next footfall with the torch. With each movement, my heart rate increases. I keep moving, forcing myself not to pause or slow down. My inner ninja is swift and true.

Finally, I reach the bottom of the stairs. I take a moment to pause and breathe. Ellie’s face swims before my eyes in the darkness.

Hurry, Danny, she says. You’re eighteen now. We can be together.

I grin like a madman at the thought. Finally. Me and Ellie. Together. The way I’ve been dreaming about for the last five years. My every waking thought, my every romantic dream, my every erotic fantasy – it’s all been focused on her. Maybe it’s crazy for a teenager to feel this way about a girl, but with Ellie, I knew it the moment I first saw her. She was the one for me. No matter how long I had to wait, I was gonna do it. I was gonna prove my love to her. No other girl has ever mattered to me like she has. None of the girls at school could hold a candle to my sweet, wonderful Ellie. She was everything.

I walk through the dark house, moving a little quicker now, feeling my confidence slowly building. My inner ninja keeps me quick and quiet. The torch helps me find a path through the house, but I don’t really need it. I know the location of every piece of furniture, every bump and groove, every rug and lamp. The torch is purely to make sure I don’t trip over something unexpected and ruin the whole plan.

Everything goes smoothly as I creep through the house to the back door. I slip my bike key from the hook and unlock the door. Nobody stirs. I can’t hear my dad’s slow, steady breathing from down here. And nobody can hear the soft click as the key turns in the lock and I gently pull the back door open.

The night air is chilly. A gentle breeze brushes my hair and nips at my exposed arms. It doesn’t matter. My love for Ellie will keep me warm, no matter how cold it is. The sky is clear. A crescent moon hangs in the black canvas of the night, backed by a gallery of sparkling stars. It’s the perfect night. I had been worried that it would rain and spoil the moment, but this is perfect. A clear and starlit sky is the ideal backdrop to a confession of love. I can’t imagine anything better.

I ease the back door closed and unlock my bike and lift it out of the rack, over my dad’s bike. So far, so good. My plan has worked perfectly so far. Now, all I need to do is head over to Ellie’s place and win her heart. Easier said than done, right?

Maybe when you’re eighteen, huh? Ellie says, surfacing from the depths of my memory, a touch of humor in her voice.

I picture Ellie’s face when I show up at her door. Her beautiful, beaming smile. Her sparkling eyes. Her soft cheeks. Her dark, sweeping hair, always tied back in a ponytail. The vision gives me strength. I can do this. I can do this.

For you, Ellie, I’ll do anything.

I push my bike around to the front of my house and glance up at my parent’s window. It’s dark, the drapes pulled shut. The whole house is quiet and still, like a computer powered down for the night. Nobody knows I’m out here. Nobody knows how long I’ve imagined this moment, running over all the possibilities and doubts and worries in my mind. Now it’s done, and it was easier than I dared to imagine.

I swing a leg over my bike and begin to pedal toward my goal.

Toward Ellie, my former babysitter.

The girl I love.


****


The first time I met Ellie, I thought an angel had walked into my house.

She was twenty, but looked like she was still in high school. Her beautiful, brilliant blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. She wore her ruler-straight dark hair in a ponytail. Her soft, full lips were parted in a delighted smile, revealing perfect white teeth. Her skin was pristine china white. Her body was every bit as perfect and flawless as her face – stunningly perky small breasts that seemed to defy gravity; long, toned legs that seemed to stretch up to heaven; and an ass that could turn the Pope into a sinner. In short, Ellie was the ultimate girl. And she was my babysitter! It was like God Himself had thrown me a touchdown pass.

Before she walked into the living room, I was in the middle of a heated argument with my dad about why I didn’t need a babysitter. I was thirteen; I could look after myself; how was I gonna throw a party while they went to dinner?

Then Ellie walked into my life and everything changed. She wore a plain shirt and a simple skirt that almost reached her knees, giving her the appearance of a mousey librarian. She introduced herself and gave me a kiss on the cheek. As her lips touched my skin, I felt my soul take flight. This perfect, beautiful girl was going to spend the next few hours hanging out with me. It was almost too good to be true.

I nearly shoved my parents out the front door so Ellie and I could be alone. I was thirteen at the time, and my only plans for the night involved videogames and internet porn. Suddenly this girl was in my house – standing in my living room! – and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Nothing else mattered but being with her. It didn’t matter that she was seven years older than me. It didn’t matter that I was still in high school. I was totally head-over-heels in love with this girl.

When my parents finally reversed out of the drive, Ellie turned to me with that wonderful, heart-warming smile and asked, ‘So, what do you want to do tonight?’

My young teenage mind went into overdrive with all the possibilities.

We ended up spending that first night sitting next to each other on the couch, watching some crappy cable comedy. I don’t remember anything about it. I spent the whole night watching her.


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