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M/F, F/F & just about everything else
Dear Aimee,
Hi! My name is Vicky and I'm a really big fan of your work, and
your website. I loved your live show last night, but am writing
in regards to the man who was in it at the end. I may be crazy,
but was that Jeremy (my last name)? I didn't get a real good view,
but it sure looked like him. You see, he and I were once engaged.
I know you're a busy gal with your career and all, but if you
could write back and just let me know, I would appreciate it.
Jeremy and I were real close, and I regret the fact that we're
no longer together.
Please respond! -Vicky :)
As I sat against the headboard of the bed, with the wall lamp
turned on above me, I re-read the printed copy of Victoria's e-mail
to Amy for perhaps the millionth time.
While everyone else on the island was fast asleep at this unholy
hour (3:30am), I could not even close my eyes. It was a very strange
time to go through all the many thoughts and emotions concerning
my former fiancee - ones which I thought were suppressed and tucked
away long ago.
But that is what I found myself doing at this current moment.
This was the time to sort through everything, and try to make
sense of it all.
Of course, this whole episode started a few days ago when Amy
received an e-mail from Victoria, my former fiancee, in regards
to the webcast which recently emanated from here. I was filming
Amy and Lindsay having a sexual encounter, and the images were
broadcast live over the pornstar's website.
To sum it up, Amy eventually pulled me into the picture as Lindsay
took the video camera from me, and she literally accosted me upon
the bed. I was unwilling and not very cooperative - after all,
I did not want millions of people (strangers) to see what I looked
like without any pants on.
Amy and I would later make up and mend whatever (if any) differences
we had concerning the situation. But I'm not here to discuss that
with any of you readers, as it has been detailed heavily in prior
chapters.
The only point I wish to explore now involves the e-mail that
Amy received the day following her special webcast.
"Jeremy and I were real close, and I regret the fact that
we're no longer together." That was perhaps my favorite sentence
from the message, and it made me smile in a most begrudging way.
Victoria - or perhaps Vicky as she called herself in the letter
- wishes we were still together?
This coming from the woman who left me standing at the altar some
eight years ago... embarrassed and humiliated, in front of my
own family? It was a mistake on her part? Something she wishes
she could take back, and make right?
Just the mere thought burns me up inside. With anger.
* * *
The time was 1993, and I was young, with a fertile mind. As a
19-year-old living just outside of Los Angeles, my days were full
of all sorts of activities. If I wasn't at the beach, swimming
or surfing, I was usually working at it. Back when I had an actual
job - before I stumbled onto all my money - I made a living polishing
and repairing boats.
But at the center of my personal universe was Victoria, a wondrously
beautiful 19-year-old who shared the very same hobbies and interests
that I did. We met a year earlier while on the beach, and it was
love at first sight. Her and I hit it off together really well,
and soon we were dating each other on a steady basis.
Victoria and I did all sorts of things together. We loved to take
drives through Topanga Canyon and Malibu, all the while wishing
that one day, both of us could have enough money to live in such
a scenic, picturesque area.
Like me, Victoria was into Astronomy and the wonders of outer
space. So, another one of our favorite places was Mount Wilson
- the world-famous observatory located east of Los Angeles. Yet
another was the Queen Mary, an old-time luxury liner which was
forever docked in Long Beach Harbor. Victoria and I went to Shoreline
Village, a quaint shopping area, as often as we could. It was
a wonderful place to do a little browsing, or just take a walk
in the outdoor sun while snacking on an ice cream cone.
Basically, we did everything together. Almost.
It only took six months, but I asked Victoria to be my bride,
and marry me. She accepted, and the ceremony would be set for
another six months down the road. Our wedding date was scheduled
to be on the one-year anniversary that Victoria and I first met
each other.
As a caring and rather intense person, I was sky-high. I thought
Victoria was the woman I would devote the rest of my life to,
and settle down with. Her and I would start a family together,
and raise our children up to be outstanding adults. I knew there
would be ups and downs, but we would weather whatever storms and
make it through... TOGETHER.
That all changed on what was supposed to be, at the time, the
greatest day of my life.
* * *
As I look back on it, I still find what happened very hard to
believe. It seemed like a bad dream, or a really awful movie script.
I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
There I was, standing side by side with Victoria, as we faced
the minister while he recited the wedding speech. 300 of my closest
friends and family members were in the chapel with us, all happy
and glowing, waiting for my defining moment in life to come.
Victoria looked more beautiful that day than I had ever seen her
before. She was wearing an expensive wedding gown, and had an
angelic glow about her. I was glad the ceremony was being videotaped,
because I wanted to re-live this moment over and over again. Without
a doubt, this was going to be the greatest day of my entire life!
All went like clockwork until the minister asked Victoria if she
took me to be her lawfully wedded husband. There was a hesitation
on her part, which made me think something was perhaps physically
wrong with her. Was she holding back a cough? Did Victoria have
something stuck in her throat?
When I looked into her eyes, I noticed that Victoria was suddenly
crying. Sounds and voices were heard behind me as she then ripped
off her engagement band, and pressed it into my shoulder. "I
can't marry you!" my fiancee exclaimed in a rage, still sobbing.
"Because I love someone else!"
I really rather not go into any great detail of the embarrassment
and humiliation that I felt with those words. Never mind the fact
that all of my family was present, including my 95-year-old great
grandmother, who would pass away weeks later. I also had a group
of high school friends at the wedding, all of which had flown
3,000 miles to be a part of my glorious, spectacular day.
I had seen something similar to this in the movies, but never
thought it actually happened for real - especially to me. My fiancee
could not marry me, because she loved someone else? That was embarrassing
enough... but wait, it gets worse. Much worse, in fact.
"Who?" I said to her at the altar, shocked and completely
dumbfounded. "Who do you love more?"
"MINDY!" Victoria cried, pointing at her best friend
as an absolute hush fell over the packed audience. I watched in
silence (and horror) as Victoria ran over to Mindy and embraced
her, before both ladies exited the chapel and ran off into the
night together.
Everyone in the building watched the two ladies leave, but then
turned and looked squarely at me. My fiancee had left me standing
at the altar... for another woman. I had absolutely no idea that
her and Mindy were intimate at all, but learned when everyone
else in the chapel did, too.
All those faces, those eyes... staring blankly at me.
It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life.
* * *
I can kind of understand if Victoria decided to keep her true
relationship with Mindy a secret from me, but found it too difficult
to hide anymore when presented with making a sacred vow. Victoria
did love me, but apparently she loved Mindy a bit more. I can
understand that. I didn't then, but I can now. That much, I'm
fine with.
Eight years later, my animosity toward Victoria is mostly centered
around the simple fact that after she bolted from our ceremony,
I never saw her again.
I never got an explanation for all the horrible things that happened
to me that day. Since both of us were seconds away from marriage,
I think I was at least owed that much.
I talked to Victoria twice on the telephone that day, and she
said our relationship was over. She wanted nothing to do with
me ever again. I wanted to know why she left me for Mindy, but
she simply refused to tell me.
I tried going over to her house next, but her father immediately
threatened me with a harassment suit if I ever tried to approach
Victoria again. Being young and naive at the time, that was the
white flag for me. It was over.
Because I never got an explanation, despite the fact I now understood
why she left me, I've never forgiven Victoria for that fateful
day. And, I never will.
* * *
"Jeremy and I were real close, and I regret the fact that
we're no longer together."
Another begrudging smile appeared on my face as I read that sentence
from the e-mail yet again. As I sat up in bed in this, the wee
hours of the morning, I took a deep breath and sighed. The simple
piece of paper which I held in my hand had brought back all these
horrible memories... ones which took me five years to fight, and
finally get over.
Naturally, I contemplated suicide for awhile. It wasn't such a
bad thing, though. Anyone who has went through such a traumatic
experience would entertain those thoughts... it was the natural
thing to do. I got past the idea, which was good. But the pain
and the humiliation lasted a long time.
Victoria changed the way I look at people, and that still affects
me today. I find it very hard to trust anyone, and in many cases,
I think people are out to get me.
Perhaps this is a reason why after I came into my private fortune,
I bought an island in the middle of nowhere. Five years ago, I
figured, no one could hurt me as long as I am on this island.
I didn't want or need companionship at the time. I was too afraid
of being hurt and humiliated again.
I just wanted to be left alone.
I used to be a very trusting and easy-going person. Not much got
me down... and I always had a smile or good word for everyone
in my path. I was about the easiest person that you could ever
make friends with.
Victoria changed that, though. If I couldn't trust her, I couldn't
trust anyone. That was my thought process for everything. I couldn't
even trust my own family.
I was in such a terrible and fragile state, and was at absolute
rock bottom for the first year on the island. My best (and only)
therapy to get through this difficult time was the simple fact
that here on the island, I was alone.
No one could hurt me any further than I already was. No one would
even have the opportunity to do so, because I had shielded myself
from the rest of the civilized world. I had suddenly become a
guarded individual, all because of what one woman had done to
me.
* * *
Slowly but surely, my mind and heart started to heal. After the
mansion (or palace, as I called it then) was built here on the
island, I finally began to realize that living in such a solitary
state was not good for my pysche.
I used to be a very friendly and happy person. Why let one person
strip that away from me? Why let one person, despite the extreme
humiliation she caused me, dictate the way I spend the rest of
my life? I hated Victoria for what she had done to me. I shouldn't
allow her to cause anymore problems for me, but she was. Because
of her, I was alone.
My first foray back into society, I actually stayed on the island.
Being a 23-year-old (at the time) who hadn't experienced the joy
of sex in four years, I compensated for that with the help of
X-rated movies. For a long time, the movies were all I had. My
collection kept growing, and soon the number of video cassettes
had exceeded 500.
After a few months had gone by, I decided to try my hand at something
real. Victoria was still on my mind and holding me back in several
ways, but I was determined to break free from those chains.
I left the island behind for three months, and got an apartment
in Malibu. I had dreamed of one day living there and with my money,
I now had the opportunity.
My sole purpose for venturing back into society was to find myself
a real girlfriend, and perhaps a future wife. All I ever wanted
in life was to get married, and start a family. That wasn't too
much to ask for... was it?
The problem I had while living in Malibu was not a lack of women,
or dating opportunities. It seemed as if, even though I was finally
leading an active social lifestyle again, all these women wanted
me... just for my money.
I couldn't find a woman, at least in my eyes, who truly cared
about me. They were too blinded by the thought of marrying themselves
into a billion dollars. Proof of that is during just three months
in Malibu, two women asked me to marry them. I finally got fed
up with the situation, and headed back home - to the island.
And what, in many ways, had become my newfound Hell.
After another year of wrestling with the thought of my former
fiancee and what she had done to me, I was finally able to conquer
it. All of a sudden, I woke up one day and told myself that THIS
WAS IT. IT WAS OVER. I had missed out on the most prime five years
of my life (ages 19 to 24), but I was not going to let Victoria
drag me down ever again.
Back to the United States I went, and this time, with a plan.
Instead of living like a King, I would live like a pauper. I found
a run-down apartment in Oregon, and took a low-paying job at a
horse stable. I would pursue my share of women here, but not let
them know I was a rich man until I felt the time was right. I
wanted someone to care about me as a person - and not as a dollar
sign.
After a few failed relationships, I thought I hit it big with
a young woman named Tiffany. Her and I dated for a long time,
while I slaved away for low money at the horse stable as I lived
in an old, beat-down apartment.
I thought Tiffany truly cared about me, and she did. But when
I let her in on my financial secret, things changed.
At first, I was happy to buy Tiffany a new car. I loved seeing
the look on her face as she went on shopping sprees, at my expense.
Finally my money was being put to good use.
Then, however, I thought Tiffany started to get a swelled head.
She expected me to buy things for her and if I didn't, she got
angry with me. I let her push me around for awhile, but then put
my foot down and realized that Tiffany was no different from those
women I had known in Malibu.
Our relationship was over, but the worst part about it was at
one time, Tiffany really did care about me. The mere possibility
of fame and fortune, however, had blinded her... and made her
into a bad person. Could I ever find a woman who would care about
me as a person?
So... back to the island I went.
* * *
Not for long, though. While visiting the mainland, I met a young
woman by the name of Christina. At the time, she was 18, and I
was 25. Christina was vastly different than all of the other women
I had previously been in contact with because she too, had a lot
of money. Not nearly a fraction of what I did, of course, but
she had more than most normal people accumulate throughout 40
years of hard work and labor.
Christina and I dated for awhile, but both of us found we were
more friends than lovers. The sex between us was great but it
really had no emotional meaning. For whatever reason it was, I
could not bring myself to truly love her.
Despite that, however, Christina was the first person in a long
time that I felt I could actually trust. She was a sounding board
for me, and a good one at that. Christina helped me sort through
my many feelings and emotions, and really made me into a better
person in the process.
* * *
A good year after commuting back-and-forth between the island
and her New York home and family, Christina came up with an idea.
Instead of looking at my money as a total hindrance when dealing
with other women, I should use it to my advantage. All of the
following was her idea...
Advertise throughout all of the United States and Canada, on college
campuses and in health clubs, that any woman who would be interested
in spending ten weeks on an island paradise should write to the
address provided for more information. Those selected were guaranteed
$50,000 for their time, while a chosen one would receive $500,000.
The only two requirements, the advertisement said, were that each
woman be single and bi-sexual.
Christina was bi-sexual, of course, so that really was her own
requirement.
The additional information really was a long and very thorough
questionnaire/application, along with some photos of the island
and what it had to offer. Christina was a technical wiz when it
came to computers, and she developed a program for me which would
easily process all of those applications and give me a list of
the 500 women who were the best match, in terms of compatibility,
for my tastes.
From those 500 women, 351 of them replied when they were asked
to send in photographs and a three paragraph summary of themselves.
From that, Christina and I narrowed the list down to 50. After
we conducted in-depth telephone interviews with those 50, the
list was cut again - to 20.
From those 20, I selected the original group of six ladies who
came to the island - Gianna, Pamela, Amy, Trish, Torrie and Lindsay.
Lisa, of course, would later replace Gianna. And the current newcomers
- Devon, Stephanie and Cassidy - were members of that exclusive
"20 club", as well.
It was also Christina's idea to install hidden cameras everywhere
on the island, so I could watch the ladies interact with each
other in their private moments. The sole intent of bringing these
woman to the island was to hopefully find me a woman I could one
day settle down with. The cameras would provide me further insight
into their true identities, as well as things they said about
me.
The cameras' original intent was to help answer me the question
of whether or not any of these women were right for me. I utilized
them for that in the summer, but as things turned out, they were
mostly used for sexual voyeurism.
Aside from the fact that the girls were curious how they could
attain $500,000 instead of $50,000 - which, by the way, I attributed
to human nature - they were not all that concerned about my money.
I can thank Christina for that, because of the computer program
she had created which processed all of those questionnaires and
found a group of women who were compatible with what I wanted
in life. None of these women could even be considered as gold-diggers.
I didn't want a woman like that in my life and thanks to the computer
program, none of these ladies were like that.
During the summer, I had such a wonderful time with all of the
girls that I decided to scrap the $50,000 / $500,000 payout scale.
I just decided everyone, except for Lindsay and Pamela - since
they stayed with me - would get checks for $1.5 million. They
all deserved it.
For the first time since seconds before Victoria and I were set
to be married, I was happy in life. That is what the summer did
for me. In fact, the whole ten week period made me happier than
I had ever been before. I loved all of the girls, and thought
of them as absolute angels.
* * *
"Jeremy and I were real close, and I regret the fact that
we're no longer together." As I sat up in bed at this early
hour, I smiled begrudingly once more while reading that line from
Victoria's e-mail to Amy. She regrets the fact, huh?
I still had not answered Amy's question from the other night,
when she asked if she should reply to Victoria and tell her that
yes, that man she saw was me - her ex-fiance. I was giving the
idea (and ramifications) of that a little bit of thought in my
mind - but not much.
Did I want to let Victoria back into my life? I loved her with
all of my heart at one point - really, not too long ago. She had
been my entire universe; my reason for living. Her message to
Amy certainly did sound sincere.
What if, during all those years I spent in Hell because of how
she humiliated me, Victoria was in Hell, too?
What if she sat home each day for years and pined like I did,
wondering where things between us went wrong?
What if she wishes she could go back in time, and marry me...
instead of publicly dumping me like that?
I hadn't seen Victoria in eight years, but I knew she was still
beautiful. She was a goddess back then, and I'm sure she is a
goddess still today. Victoria was also bi-sexual. I bet she would
fit in real well on the island...
Regardless of that, Victoria had still put me through five years
of absolute Hell. Whether she felt that way or not herself, I
had to think about my feelings for a change. Still, however, I
am a very forgiving person...
So what should I tell Amy to do? Should she reply and say yes
- that was me? Or that no - it wasn't me?
Victoria was supposed to be my bride. Her and I were supposed
to have children, and grow old together. She hurt me really bad,
but now perhaps wanted to get back together. Or, at the very least...
maybe apologize.
I had to deal with all these bad memories and thoughts which were
swirling throughout my head. What in the world should I tell Amy?
Did Victoria deserve a second chance?
* * *
For the first time all morning, the smile on my face was not
forced, or meant in a begrudging way. It was totally pure, and
genuine. The simple reason for that is because I was currently
looking down at my true wife, Pamela, as she peacefully slept
away upon the bed beside me.
I smiled again while reaching down and gently stroking Pamela's
face with my hand. I knew that here was a woman who would never
humiliate me, or stab me in the back. Pamela was too good - too
special - of a person to do that.
She was my wife, and I loved her with all of my heart.
Looking down at Pamela as she continued to sleep away... the answer
to this whole situation was suddenly so clear.
I re-read Victoria's e-mail message one more time before crumpling
it up into my hands, and tossing it toward the nearby waste-paper
basket. "He shoots... he scores!" I breathed quietly,
another smile on my face, as the ball of paper landed directly
inside the basket.
My next move was to turn the lamp off above my head, and lay down
on the bed next to my adoring wife. Very gently - not wanting
to wake her - I placed both hands upon her face before offering
her lips a shadow of a kiss. I smiled as she stirred about (but
did not wake), before then placing my thumbs upon her lips and
stroking them tenderly.
"I love you, Pamela," I whispered, kissing her on the
cheek. "All of the other girls here are great, but you're
my one true reason for living."
I kissed her again and added, "Even if I wanted Victoria
back in my life - which, by the way, I DON'T - it would not be
fair to do to you. You're NOT in competition with anyone, and
I never want you to feel that way."
"Besides, for the first time in my life, I can honestly say
- and truly believe - that Victoria does not deserve me anymore."
I kissed my wife's neck and continued, "Even more than that,
she sure as hell does not deserve you, Pamela." My senses
flared as I added, "You're much too good to have someone
like that in your life, sweetheart."
I paused before finally concluding, my voice cracking, "I
love you, Pamela. I love you with all of my heart. I don't need
Victoria in my life as long as I have you. I really don't need
any of the other girls in my life, either... as long as I have
you. You're my reason for living."
"Victoria? Amy can tell her no, it wasn't me."
I smiled in the aftermath of my words, placing my lips upon Pamela's
neck and nuzzling her there. At this single moment in time, I
loved my wife more than I ever had before.
<<<- End of Part 8 ->>>
Find every chapter of this story updated and archived at:
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/HighlanderJM/
Reader feedback (HighlanderJM@hotmail.com) is appreciated!
---> Chat with me for free on MSN Messenger : HighlanderJM
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} else {
print ("Give feedback and discus this story!");
}
function db_connect ()
{
global $username, $password, $database;
$link = @mysql_pconnect("localhost", $username, $password);
if ($link && mysql_select_db($database)) return($link);
return(FALSE);
}
?>
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