The Cruel Wife Returns
A New Start
I had no money, no job and nowhere to live. So I scrounged what I could get off of the streets. I was arrested twice for vagrancy but when the judge heard my tale, he let me off both times. And then one day a kind old woman saw me begging, wearing my tattered and dirty French Maid’s uniform and offered me a place to stay in exchange for me doing some of her housework for her. She even loaned me some of her dead husband’s clothes to wear. It was a joy to get out of those dirty clothes and into fresh and clean ones, but I have to tell you it felt strange to be in denim and flannel instead of satin and lace.
Mrs. Morris was a very kind soul. She did expect me to cook and clean in exchange for my meals and lodging but she was not demanding and in no way was she cruel. We spent many evenings after dinner sitting out on her back patio, sipping a glass of wine. She urged me to tell her my story and became so fascinated by it that she suggested that I begin writing it down, first as a diary and then as a book. Of course I changed the names, which probably did no good as everyone I had ever met had already seen my cuckold videos or had seen me in action as I waited on them while they were in bed with Ruth.
It took me a long time to finish the story and an even longer time finding someone willing to publish it. It started out small but soon it caught on and before I knew it I was making enough in royalties so that I could actually afford my own place to live. And that was just in time as one day when I went to serve Mrs. Morris her breakfast I found her still in her bed. She had passed peacefully in the night. So once again I was on my own.
I found a nice cozy little apartment not far from the downtown district. It was nice to be able to walk most places I needed to go, as my driver’s license had run out long ago and I did not have a vehicle to use to take the test to get it reinstated. And as my book continued to sell I found that if I needed to go some place beyond walking distance, I could afford to take a cab.
My biggest problem was loneliness. I had no friends and my family was not on speaking terms with me, so most nights it was just 100 channels of cable television and me.
So I started taking walks down to the local pub. I made friends easily enough until one of them would come across my videos that were still circulating on the Internet and then although I was in the middle of a crowded bar I was once again alone.
Fortunately, my publisher arranged a book tour and I was kept busy for the vast majority of my days autographing copies of my book in various bookstores and libraries. It was hard for me to believe that people actually wanted my signature on their book but those same people would shun me in a social setting.
During the course of these events, I did start to meet a few women who were willing to go out with me to dinner or for cocktails. It didn’t take long for me to discover that they were not really interested in my conversation but in what my money could buy for them. I had one bad experience after another and so I finally gave up.