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Message-ID: <28730asstr$981213048@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Maria1971@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} RP Only Way Out - Maria Gonzales
Date: Sat,  3 Feb 2001 10:10:49 -0500
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<1st attachment, "ONLY_W~1.TXT" begin>

If you aren't 18, or 21 if you live in a backwards
place, then go away : )

This story is copyrighted by the writer formerly known
as Maria Gonzales, AKA M-Go. Copyright 2001. Send me an
E-mail at Maria1971@aol.com and/or visit my web site
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MariaGonzales/www

Only Way Out

by Maria Gonzales

Copyright 1999 - All Rights Reserved. Any use of this 
work without the author's written permission is 
strictly forbidden.

"I do."  I repeated the priest's words.

"I now pronounce you man and wife.  You may kiss the 
bride."

Jeff turned to me, and kissed me lightly on the lips.  
The crowd behind us started clapping, and we turned to 
them.  I looked at my mother, and tears were rolling 
down her cheeks as she smiled at me.  My father stood 
next to her; if it were anybody but him, I would have 
sworn that a tear was in his eye also.  We made our way 
down the aisle, approaching the doors to the outside of 
the church.  As we did, instead of getting brighter and 
growing larger, the doorway appeared to be getting 
smaller, and instead of daylight, it seemed as if we 
were walking toward darkness; a darkness that seemed to 
glow somehow.  As we stepped into the blackness, the 
clapping of the crowd disappeared, replaced by silence.  
I turned to look at my boyfriend, no, Jeff was my 
husband now, I had to remember that, and instead of 
seeing him in his tuxedo and smiling at me, I saw him 
unshaven, a crazy look in his eyes and the smell of 
whiskey on his breath.

I opened my mouth in terror, and saw his hand come to 
me, almost in slow motion.  His hand formed a fist, and 
was moving toward my face.  I tried to protect myself 
with my arms, but realized it would be too late.  As 
his fist approached, I closed my eyes and opened my 
mouth to scream . . .

****

I opened my eyes, and the image was gone.  I looked 
around my room, and in the darkness I could see the 
clock on my nightstand, 3:45 in the morning.  I stood, 
and now wide awake, stepped quietly toward the door.  
Not wanting to turn on the light -- I opened the door 
slowly, stubbing my toe.  Closing the door behind me, I 
groped for the light and flicked it on.

I took in the mess that was the living room.  Empty 
whiskey bottles were on the coffee table, along with 
some empty beer cans. The stereo was still on, some 
song that I used to know was softly coming through the 
speakers.  Jeff was sprawled out on the couch snoring, 
his unshaven face seemed like it belonged to a 
stranger, not my husband of three years.

I walked to the bathroom, turned on the light, and 
looked at myself in the mirror.  I ran my finger softly 
along the cut next to my eye.  As I moved my finger 
underneath my eye, I twinged, feeling a sharp pain 
where my skin had turned black from Jeff's fist.  Why 
was I still there?  Why haven't I packed what little I 
had, put Joshua into his car seat and left?  I didn't 
love Jeff anymore, not after what he had done to me 
over the past three months.  I loved the old Jeff with 
my entire heart,  but not the monster he had changed 
into.

Jeff used to be such a beautiful man.  He always made 
me feel like his princess, always telling me how 
gorgeous I was, helping me out around the house and 
always asking for my opinion on everything.  When I 
first met him, I was positive that I had found my 
knight, and he never did anything to make me think 
differently.  The first year of our marriage was 
perfect.  A handsome responsible man for a husband, and 
a new baby on the way  Everything changed when he lost 
his job.

I was eight months pregnant at the time, so his layoff 
couldn't have come at a worse time financially.  At the 
time, we thought it may even have been a blessing in 
disguise, Jeff could stay home for a couple of months 
and help me with the baby.  It turned out to be the 
worst thing that ever happened to us.

Josh was born, and Jeff helped me around the house and 
with the baby.  Soon, one month of unemployment turned 
into two, and we were using the last of our savings 
just to pay the rent.  Jeff was still unable to get a 
job, so I took the first job I could find, which was at 
the truck stop.

When Josh was five months old, that was when the 
unemployment checks stopped. Still unable to find a 
job, Jeff started drinking.  At first it was a couple 
of beers, then it reached the point that he was almost 
never sober.  One night, he made some remark about how 
I was probably turning tricks every night at the truck 
stop for extra tips.  I answered him with the first 
response that popped into my head, that if I was 
turning tricks, at least I was working and not sitting 
around the house all day getting drunk.  That was the 
first time he hit me.  He ran to me and apologized, but 
when I shook him off in anger, he pushed me down and 
hit me again.  After a few minutes, he stared at me for 
a few moments, then ran out the door and tore out of 
the driveway in his car.

When he returned the next morning, his shirt was 
stained with lipstick and it smelled like cheap 
perfume.  When I asked him about it, he just ignored 
me.  As I continued to ask him where he was, he stood 
and hit me again, telling me it was none of my 
business.  Then he announced that he was going to bed.  
I slept on the couch for the first time that evening, 
my eyes filled with tears at what had happened.

Since that day, whenever we were together, we argued or 
ignored each other. Thankfully, we weren't together 
very often.   I usually found other places for Josh and 
myself to go and other things to do than to be with 
Jeff.

I had told Jeff that I was going to leave him if he 
didn't find some help, I even brought home some 
information for him to look at, but that only made him 
more furious, his punches coming more often and with 
more venom.  He told me that if I ever left him, he 
would find me and kill me. If he couldn't have me, then 
nobody could.  I knew I had to find a way out, but I 
was scared.  Scared not only of Jeff and what he might 
do to me, but scared of raising Josh by myself.

I shut off the light, and returned to my bedroom.  I 
left the door open so I could look at Joshua sleeping 
in the crib.  What kind of life could he expect if I 
left Jeff; growing up without a father, with a mother 
who was always working.  I took a deep breath and the 
thought came to me.  What kind of life was Josh going 
to have if I stayed with Jeff?  How would Josh feel 
when he saw his parents yelling at each other, watching 
his father constantly hitting his mother in anger.

It was at this moment I realized I had to do something.  
Not for me, but for my baby.  I sat on the bed, and 
tried to think.  What could I do?  I didn't have enough 
money to go anywhere.  My parents had both died late 
last year, within months of each other. I didn't have 
any close friends who I trusted enough to help me out, 
and even if I did, this was my problem, not theirs.

Then I remembered Ricky.  He was a regular customer of 
mine at the truck stop. Every morning at four he would 
walk in and sit by himself in an empty booth. At first 
we just made small talk, but soon I found myself 
flirting with him, somehow attracted to the danger I 
saw in him.  One night last week, he told me, "Linda, 
if you ever need anything, anything at all, just ask 
me.  I can take care of any problems you might have."

I remembered smiling at him, and answering "...the only 
problem I need to have taken care of is my husband."  
Then I laughed and added, "What would it take to get 
rid of him?"

Ricky smiled at me with a wicked grin and answered, 
"For you Linda, just one night."

"One night of what?" I answered with a coquettish 
smile.

"Use your imagination."

I smiled at him and continued to the next table, not 
thinking anything of his comments, thinking they were 
just a flirtation.  I had heard some of the other 
waitresses talking about Ricky, about how he was 
connected and how dangerous he really was.  My boss 
even told me to stay away from him, that he was nothing 
but trouble.

I lay back on my bed, and tried to figure out if Ricky 
was serious with his offer, or if he was just flirting 
with me.  If he was serious, maybe he would help me.  I 
drifted off to sleep hearing his words in my head, 
"Just one night..."

****

The truck stop was practically empty when Ricky walked 
to his normal booth.  I went to his table and poured 
him a cup of coffee.  "Same as always?" I asked.

"Same as always, Linda.  But with a side of you."  he 
answered with a smile, saying the same thing he has 
told me every night. I smiled at him, scribbled his 
order on my pad and went to the kitchen.  I looked at 
my other tables -- all empty.  I noticed my boss 
sitting at the counter, and approached him, asking if I 
could take my break.

"Sure.  Why not.  Why don't you just get Ricky's order, 
and then go home. It's slow and Jessica will be in 
soon."

I punched myself out, grabbed Ricky's food and carried 
it to his table. Setting it in front of him, I sat down 
across from him.

"I get company tonight?" he asked.

"It's slow, so I got off early.  I have some time to 
kill, so I figured why not spend it with my favorite 
customer." My head was spinning, trying to figure out 
how I was going to find out how serious he was with his 
offer of help.

Ricky sipped his coffee, looked at me and said, "I 
wasn't born yesterday, Linda.  I know you aren't 
sitting with me blinded by my good looks."

I giggled and answered, "You should have some 
confidence.  You are far from being ugly.  And do I 
need a reason to sit down with you?"   I looked at the 
man across the table from me, his dark brown hair tied 
in a ponytail and his cold gray eyes being the only 
things that made him look any different from a normal 
nine to five businessman. He wasn't handsome, but he 
wasn't ugly either.

"No." he answered.  "But usually when a beautiful woman 
wants to talk with me, she has an ulterior motive.  And 
I'm not talking about seduction."

"How do you know I didn't sit with you to seduce you.  
If I unbuttoned this button on my blouse would that 
convince you?"  I asked as I moved my fingers to the 
top button of my blouse.

"It would be a start."

I shook my head back and forth with a smile, and opened 
the button.  The middle of my bra was now showing and 
if I moved he would see the cups of the bra.  "There.  
Convinced that I don't have an ulterior motive?" I 
asked.

He nodded his head and smiled at me.  "It's a start.  
Let me take a wild guess. Hubby's been neglecting part 
of his duties, and the friendly mysterious customer 
will be your first seduction."

I laughed at him, louder than I wanted.  When was the 
last time Jeff and I had made love?  It's been so long 
that I couldn't even remember. "It would be a start." I 
answered.

"See.  You not only want to seduce me, you want a favor 
in return.  I tell you what, Linda.  I like you.  So 
I'm going to give you a little advice.  Don't mess 
around with me unless you're serious."

The smile left my face, and I thought of my baby, I 
felt a twinge around my eye where it was still blue, 
covered in makeup hiding the mark.  "I am completely 
serious, Ricky."

He looked into my eyes -- deep into my eyes.  I wanted 
to turn away, but made myself return his glare.  "We 
can't talk here." he said, "Go out the door, and if you 
are really serious, meet me in half an hour, in the 
parking lot of the Seven-Eleven on the corner of First 
and Washington.  But, only if you are one hundred 
percent sure that this is what you want, and only if 
you are completely serious."

I looked into his eyes.  Without a word I stood and 
walked out the door.  Once in my car, I started the 
engine and drove away. Instead of turning right and 
driving home, I turned left, toward First street. 
Taking a left turn on First, I drove until I saw a 
Seven-Eleven.  I checked the cross street, making sure 
that I was at the right one and turned into the parking 
lot, parking my car under a streetlight.

In ten minutes, I saw a black Corvette pull into the 
parking lot.  I watched as it approached and parked 
next to me.  I looked over and saw Ricky at the wheel, 
motioning me to join him.  I got out, locked my car and 
sat next to him.

"You're sure about this?"  he asked.

"I'm here, ain't I?"

"Let's go for a little drive."  he answered.  He backed 
his car up, and pulled onto First Street.  He reached 
for the radio, and turned off the classical music that 
was playing and looked at me.  "I take it you 
understand what form your payment will be in.  One 
night."

"Yes.  I understand."

"I'm fucking crazy for doing this you know.  I'm a 
sucker for blondes with big tits."

I laughed but didn't answer.  I didn't know what to 
say.

"Tell me about your problem.  I hear through the 
grapevine that you have been having some... shall we 
say, marital problems."

"You could say it that way.  If you could call being 
married to a drunken, lazy slob whose idea of a good 
time is hitting me in the face."

"Fucking bastard.  Any man that lays a hand on a woman 
doesn't have any balls. Why don't you just leave him?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "It's not that easy, Ricky.  I 
don't have any money... no place to go.  And if I did 
leave him, he's jealous enough to come find me and kill 
me.  It's not like he has anything better to do with 
his time."

"He's told you that?"

"Whenever I tell him I'm leaving."

"He doesn't have the balls to do it."

"Maybe not, but what am I supposed to do?  Look over my 
shoulder wherever I go. Afraid that he'll be there?  I 
have a son to look out for."

"Understandable.  I take it you want Ricky to take care 
of your problem?"

I nodded.

"Does he have any life insurance?"

"A little, I guess.  Maybe five thousand."

"That's all.  Bums living on the street have more than 
that."

"Bums living on the street are worth more than he is." 
I answered.

He looked at me, then stared at the road, deep in 
thought.  After a few minutes he asked, "How exactly do 
you want me to take care of him?"

I looked at my ankles.  How did I want to take care of 
Jeff.  In the back of my mind, I knew that I wanted him 
dead, that it was my only way out.  Did I really want 
that?  Did I really need that on my conscience?

"I don't care.  I just want him out of my life."

"I understand that, Linda sweetie, but what do you want 
me to do?"

I knew what Ricky wanted from me.  He wanted me to tell 
him that I wanted Jeff dead.  I closed my eyes and 
leaned into the seat of the 'Vette.  Taking a deep 
breath and exhaling, I answered softly, "I want him 
dead."

"What, Linda?  I didn't hear you.  You have to speak a 
little louder sweetie."

I sat up, looked at Ricky and said with a conviction 
that even surprised me, "I said I want him dead.  I 
want you to kill the asshole."

"That's much better.  I can do that for you, no 
problem.  Just make sure that his insurance is paid up.  
But you do understand what I expect in return for 
payment, don't you?"

I looked back at my ankles, wondering how that run got 
there. "Yes.  One night... with you."

"I'm fucking crazy, did I tell you that already?"

I smiled and answered, "Yes.  You also said that you 
are a sucker for blondes with big tits."

Ricky laughed loudly, "To tell you the truth, I don't 
have any idea what we're supposed to do next.  I 
usually don't accept payment until the job's done, but 
I usually need some sort of deposit before I agree to 
do the job."  He paused for a second, smiled and added, 
"Tell you what, this is what we're gonna do. Take off 
your top for me, hell, take off everything, let me get 
a good look at you, to whet my appetite, so to speak."

I looked at him calmly and asked, "Now?  Here?"

"Sure.  Why not?"

I nodded my head and laughed, "If that's what you want 
for a down payment, I guess that's what I'll have to 
give you."

I looked down at my blouse and stared at a coffee 
stain.  With both hands, I unbuttoned the top button 
and worked my way down.  Once all of the buttons were 
open, I looked at him and slid the blouse off.

"I don't believe I'm doing this." I said as I 
unbuttoned the top of my skirt and pulled the zipper 
down.  I lifted myself up off the seat and pulled the 
skirt off, letting it fall to the floor.  I leaned 
forward, pulled the straps of my bra off my shoulder 
and pulled my arms through.  Pulling the cups down, I 
looked at Ricky as he glanced at me.  I felt the car 
slow as he pulled over into an empty parking lot.

I moved the hooks of the bra so they were in front and 
unclasped them.  I don't understand why I didn't feel 
nervous or embarrassed as I stripped for him, but I 
didn't.  In my mind I was stripping for him as payment 
for what I wanted him to do for me.

I pulled the bra off and tossed it on the floor.  Then 
I lifted my butt up again, and pulled my pantyhose and 
my panties off together. I tossed them onto the pile of 
clothes at my feet and turned to him.  "What do you 
think?"

He nodded his head, "Nice."

"As nice as you imagined?"

"Even nicer sweetie.  I see a lot of naked women for 
some reason, lots of strippers and hookers, you have 
something they don't."

I laughed and asked, "What?"

"I don't know.  Class, yeah that's it, class."

"Class?" I answered, "I'm taking off my clothes for you 
instead of handing you cash, and later I'll fuck you 
instead of paying you money.  How am I different than 
your typical stripper or whore?"

"It's not what you do, but how you do it.  I can't 
explain the difference, but there is one, trust me."

I smiled at him as he ran his eyes over my body.  I 
opened my legs slightly and raised my right leg higher, 
turning slightly in my seat.  "I take it you find me 
attractive then."

"Very.  The only problem is that I can't see you very 
good.  Get out and dance for me, in front of the car."

"What?"

He laughed and repeated himself, "You heard me, get 
out, I'll turn on the radio and watch you dance, let me 
get a good look at you."

"You're fucking crazy. It's freezing out there." I 
answered.

"I already told you that I'm crazy.  What can I say? I 
have a weakness for blondes with big tits."

I could only nod my head and giggle. I looked down at 
my naked body, then back at Ricky.  I thought about my 
baby, and I thought about Jeff.  Without any 
hesitation,  I opened the door. As I walked naked to 
the front of the car, the chill of the night hit me, 
and goose bumps filled my skin and my nipples hardened.  
But strangely, I was beginning to feel warmer.

The music started, some dance tune that was big now was 
blaring from the speakers. I tried to move my feet in 
rhythm with the music and look like I knew what I was 
doing dancing naked in a parking lot, on a chilly 
October morning. I couldn't see Ricky in the car, but I 
felt his eyes on me.  I turned and wiggled my ass 
toward him, and started to feel the rhythm of the 
music. Turning back to him, I could feel my boobs 
bounce wildly in the cold air and a kind of energy 
filled me.

Cupping my breasts with my hands, I shook my upper body 
and smiled.  Moving my hands down my the sides of my 
stomach and past my hips, I reached them toward the 
starry sky and turned, shaking my hips to the beat.  
With my butt to the 'Vette, I bent forward, opening my 
legs slightly.  The cool air hit the warm moistness 
between my legs and I felt myself relax.

I turned and faced Ricky again, pressing my breasts 
together with my arms.  I opened my legs wider, and ran 
my fingers along my slit.  Gently putting one finger of 
each hand partially inside my pussy, I spread my labia 
open, feeling the cool air inside me.

Suddenly, the music stopped and I heard Ricky, "Come on 
Linda.  It's getting late."

I smiled at him, and walked back to the car, the heat 
of my body radiating in the cool air.  As I got in the 
car and sat next to him, I looked at Ricky and without 
a word reached my hand between his legs.  Feeling his 
hard cock, I moved my head into his lap as he raised 
the steering wheel higher.  Wordlessly, I opened his 
jeans and pulled out his cock.  I opened my mouth and 
shoved it between my lips.  I moved my head up and 
down, up and down as fast as I could, sucking lightly 
on his cock.  I sucked harder, moving my head slower, 
and I could feel him squirm slightly.  I knew he was 
about to come, and wanted him to shoot in my mouth.

As he orgasmed with a loud groan, I swallowed his warm 
cum as quickly as I could, letting only a little spill 
out.  I sat up, smiled and licked my lips.

"That was a nice down payment." he sighed as he leaned 
into the drivers seat and closed his eyes.

"My pleasure, Ricky."

Ricky started the car and I started to pull on my 
clothes.  We drove in silence and as we arrived at the 
Seven-Eleven, I was just finishing buttoning my blouse.

He parked next to my car and said, "Just act normal, 
and something will happen soon.  Remember to act 
heartbroken when it does."

I got into my car and drove home.  I would be a few 
minutes late, but Jeff would be passed out on the couch 
by now.  All I had to do was feed Josh and try to calm 
myself down.

****

I was working at the truck stop when I found out about 
it.  Somebody had broken into our house in the middle 
of the night.  There had been a struggle and Jeff was 
shot three times.  By the time the police got there, he 
was already dead. Josh was still sleeping in the crib 
when they arrived.  When I pulled into the driveway, 
Josh was being held by a policewoman inside a cruiser, 
happily suckling on a bottle of formula.  I remembered 
to act mournful -- a part of me actually was sad, as I 
remembered the good times that Jeff and I had before he 
changed.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I identified his 
lifeless body for the police. They explained to me that 
I would need to sleep someplace else for the night, 
maybe two, as they searched the house for evidence.  I 
explained that I had no place to stay.  The officer in 
charge disappeared into his car, and in a few moments 
another officer drove me to a shelter for battered 
women.  The tears that were falling down my face were 
real, as I began to doubt if I had done the right 
thing.

As I entered the building, the tears still running down 
my face, I held Josh tightly as the officer explained 
the situation to the woman running the shelter.  She 
nodded her head and approached me.

"You've had a hard night, honey.  You need to get some 
rest.  Let me show the two of you to a room.  If you 
need anything, just dial zero on the telephone. Do you 
want somebody to take care of the baby for you?"

I told her that I wanted, no, needed Josh to be with 
me.  She gave me a warm friendly look as she told me to 
follow her.

As we walked through the shelter, I saw some women that 
had been beaten worse than I had been, their faces 
bruised and battered beyond belief.  There were 
children there also; one had bruises covering his 
entire face, and his arm was in a cast. He couldn't 
have been more than ten years old.  I asked if he had 
been beaten, and the lady explained to me that he had.  
His father was in jail at the moment, but they were 
afraid that he would be set free soon.  His mother was 
still in the hospital, and even though she had been 
through everything twice before, she kept returning to 
the bastard.

The boy smiled at me, and at that moment, I knew I had 
done the right thing. Nobody would ever do that to my 
son.  Nobody.  Never.

The woman left us in our room, and I sat on the bed, 
tears still falling, but felt a peace wash over me as 
Josh crawled around the room playing with a couple of 
small toys that I had stuffed into the diaper bag.

****

I stayed at the shelter for a few days, and the police 
finished their investigation, calling Jeff's death a 
homicide.  They figured that someone broke into the 
house, thinking nobody was home, to steal any valuables 
that we might have.  Jeff awoke and tried to fight them 
off. After a short struggle, Jeff was shot three times, 
dying almost instantly.  There wasn't any physical 
evidence of any use at the house, so they closed that 
part of the investigation.  I was free to return home.

I took Josh home that night, and the memory of Jeff as 
he was in the last few months overwhelmed me.  
Everything in the place reminded me of Jeff, not the 
man I fell in love with and married, but the Jeff that 
had hurt me.  I looked at the apartment, it was cleaner 
than it had been in months -- a slight smell of ammonia 
in the air.  I placed Josh in his crib and felt tears 
running down my face.  Josh looked at me with bright 
eyes, and spoke his first word, "Mamma." he said.

I laughed and picked him up, falling back onto the bed, 
holding him above me. We played for hours, just the two 
of us, Joshua finally falling asleep with a smile on 
his face.  I held him against me as I closed my eyes in 
exhaustion and drifted to sleep.

**** "I do." I repeated the Father's words.

I turned, knowing that Jeff was gone.  Instead of 
Jeff's face, I saw Josh's face smiling back at me.  I 
turned back to the clapping crowd, and saw my mother 
crying tears of joy.  My father was crying also and 
they motioned for me to come to them.  I did and I 
could feel their thoughts. They were happy for me and 
told me to take care of their grandson.

I looked toward the door of the church, and saw a 
bright white light that grew brighter with every 
second.  Soon the entire church was bathed in this 
intense bright glow, and I looked at Josh in my arms, 
seeing him smile back at me, "Mamma." I heard him say.

****

I returned to work in a few days, after finding a day 
care center for Josh.  I was woried about how I was 
going to pay for the day care, but the center had 
volunteered their services after the tragedy.

I was now working the morning shift, and the tips were 
much better, if only for the amount of customers I had.  
I was just getting used to working mornings, when Ricky 
walked in one day.  He sat at his usual table, and I 
approached him with a smile.

"Same as always?" I asked.

"You got it, sweetie.  With a side of you." he laughed.

"Just tell me when."

He motioned for me to come closer to him, and as I did, 
he whispered in my ear,"After I saw that dump you lived 
in, and that so called man that was your husband, I 
decided to do the job for free, for now, as a favor to 
my favorite waitress.  But some day, could be tomorrow, 
could be next week, could be in ten years.  I will 
expect some kind of payment."

I stood and laughed, "Any day Ricky. Any day Ricky."

I brought Ricky his food, and made my rounds.  When I 
looked back at Ricky's booth, he was gone.  I walked to 
the booth, and underneath a glass of water, I saw a 
plain white envelope with my name written on it.  I 
stuffed it into my apron and continued working.

When my shift was finally over, I walked to my car and 
turned on the engine. As it idled, I reached into my 
pocket and pulled out the envelope.  Looking inside, I 
saw a bunch of hundred dollar bills and a note.  I 
counted the bills, fifty of them, and read the note.

"If you ever need any more help.  Just ask.  I'll keep 
in touch.  R.  P.S. What can I say, I have a weakness 
for blondes with big tits."

I smiled, stuffing the envelope into my pocket and 
drove to the day care center to pick up Josh.  For the 
first time in months, I felt secure; everything would 
be better now.  I knew it would be hard raising Josh by 
myself, but I was positive that I had done the right 
thing.  It was the only way out for the two of us.

****

End

This story is a little dark.  I need to make a few 
important statements about it.

Number one, I am NOT a battered wife.  My husband is a 
very kind, loving and gentle man.  I do know some women 
who have husbands that beat them.  I tried to put 
myself in their shoes when I wrote this story.

Number two, I DO NOT condone what Linda did in this 
story.  Murder was not the only way out for her.  If 
any woman is being beaten by her husband, there are 
many places she can turn for help.  A quick search on 
any search engine will bring up many appropriate links.

Number three, if any men out there that read my stories 
also beat their wives -- Stop!  Any man that hits a 
woman or a child is something less than a man.

Number four, I promise that my next story will be a 
light and sexy romp.  I have a few stories in various 
stages of completion, and all of them are lighter than 
"Only Way Out" and "Partners."  I am trying to grow as 
a writer and try different things.  I realize that my 
lighter stories like "Every Girl Has Her Price" and "A 
Sexy Story" are the kinds of stories that most of you 
like.  Try to be patient with me as I grow and 
experiment as a writer.


<1st attachment end>


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