THE CAR

It has been three weeks since I flew the coop. I spent three days in a hotel and then moved into my present location. Did I do the right thing? I had no other choice. I could have killed one of the dogs. I enter the apartment and there are no dogs barking. There is quiet and peace. Except for the ceaseless roiling in my mind, there is tranquility. And when I'm at the edge, I pop two milligrams of Xanax. One of the pleasures of this drug is its affect as you can feel it slowly traveling through your body calming your nerves and eliminating your anxiety. I know that I'm playing with fire, but a moment of peace is worth an uncertain future.

When I left the house, I lost my mind for several days. I was with four different prostitutes, but I couldn't ejaculate. I phoned a fellow I met through the internet four or five years ago. He specializes in blow jobs. He has a spectacular skill and he relieved me. I have been terribly careless with prostitutes in the past and I did my best to utilize some common sense. One is not actually a prostitute. She has two young daughters and a steady boyfriend whom she describes as totally out of his mind. She visited me twice and I briefly stuck it in her. She has a pretty face and big tits, but she has a flabby stomach and I can't achieve a deep connection with her physically. I did manage to ejaculate the second time masturbating and this was worth the $100 effort.

The other three were fulltime streetwalkers who have been working the corners for years. I had been with two of them in the past. My first act of unfaithfulness occurred with a skinny tattooed gal who couldn't have been more than 30. The hotel where they congregate charges $20 an hour. She charged $40. I couldn't excite myself. I asked her if for $25 could I stick it in her without a condom. She said yes. Since this was the first time I was battling the odds, it was just talk to coax a boner out of me. I don't know if it was paranoia, but I couldn't progress past the limp stage.

The other two were old battle axes. Forty dollars is the going rate, but I didn't want to pay the $20 hotel room. I was renting a car and convinced them to service me there. The first is slightly built but nearing 50. She would have been attractive in her youth, but she couldn't make me come. I suggested sticking it in her because I like to witness their reactions, but she issued a categorical no. The second is heaver with big tits. She placed a condom at the side of my mattress, but she became so hot that she excited me. I crawled on top and poked her, but I quickly withdrew. Paranoia still had me by the balls.

A day later I called my buddy and he sucked me dry, but between my weak moments and the fact venereal disease is can be transmitted orally I embarked on my pilgrimage to Matamoros for my one-two punch of zithromax and flagyl. They have helped me weather the worst of my libidinous repercussions. They cure patients of gonorrhea, chlamydia and trichomoniasis almost instantly. I'm counting on their potency. The next day after taking them I fucked Claudia. It has been ten days and she hasn't complained of a bad smell, itching or discharge. After my uncontrolled spree that accompanied by unbridled mind, I have only fucked Claudia.

Financially, this has been a turning point in my life. I have this endless dream about traveling and staying in Portugal for a long period of time. I have been sitting on $30,000, but I know that over the next two years that I'm not going anywhere. I have to see Michael through his last two high school years. I promised him a car when he received his permit. It wasn't a purchase I really wanted to make, but sitting here alone and thinking that I had abandoned both Claudia and Michael, I decided to invest in an automobile as an act of penance. I called an ex-student from 45 years ago from whom I've bought or my wives have bought several cars. I informed him I wanted a vehicle for Michael and I wasn't going to spend more than $20,000. He replied that he had the perfect selection for me. He picked me up in front of the apartments in a 2021 silver Venue, a subcompact SUV. I loved it immediately and I knew that Michael would be thrilled. I wrote out a check for $20,000, but there was a catch in this transaction.

I put the car in Claudia's name. It's her car. I don't need a car. More importantly, I don't want a car. By leaving it in her hands, I am not responsible for insurance, gas or repairs. I have made my contribution to the cause. When somebody gives you a $20,000 car with no questions asked, it can blind you to the piecemeal expenses that plague you for next five to ten years that in the long run will exceed my $20,000 investment. Claudia was overwhelmed by my sudden act of generosity, but my most important priority was surprising Michael. She drove the Venue back to her house and parked it in the garage. She and I drove to the school to collect him after football practice. When we pulled into the driveway, Claudia stopped as if she were preparing to open the stage curtains. The garage slowly ascended and I shouted, "What the hell! Who's here?"

"I don't believe," stuttered Michael. "I don't believe it. This can't be true. Is it really ours?"

"It's yours, baby. It's all paid and it's in your mother's name. You are the owners. Even if Daddy were to have one of his temper tantrums, he couldn't take it back. Hasn't Daddy always taken care of his baby boy?"

He exited the back seat and collapsed into my arms. "I've missed you so much. I've missed you so much. You didn't have to leave." 

"Everything is good," I responded with tears flowing from my eyes. I held him tight. I kissed his head and rubbed his back. It had been quite some time that we had been this intimate. Whenever I used to pick him up at day care, he would be outside playing. I would shout from the back door, "¿Donde está mi hijo bonito?" (Where is my beautiful son?) And he would come running with a huge smile and throw himself into my arms . Where is my beautiful son? He was in my arms once again sobbing like a baby he once was. Time is merciless, but I knew by complying with my promise to him he had forgiven me for the havoc I had caused within the family. I knew the true meaning on giving rather than receiving although the mercy I was receiving from him more than compensated for my giving.