Cara B

I'm Alexander Raymond Coffman, and I'm 33. I own and operate a very successful jewelry store in a medium-sized Midwestern city.

My dad, Brandon Raymond Coffman, was the founder of this store, located in a prime location near the downtown area with plenty of parking in a covered structure. There was no fee if a person had their parking card validated by any of the sales and/or service businesses in that area. This was a great feature during the brutally hot and humid summer months and the freezing cold winter months that experienced heavy rain, hail, and snow.

My mother, Diana, essentially left me when I was ten. She was an RN and wanted to work as a traveling nurse across the country. Each assignment was a minimum of 13 weeks, with extensions when needed or wanted.

My parents' marriage was never strong from the beginning. Dad had already suspected that Mom was cheating on him when she often had these "business seminars" that took her all over the Midwest, including Chicago, St. Louis, and Nashville.

Dad gave her the ultimatum: either find a local job or the marriage is over. He reminded her of her responsibility as a mother also and that the extended leave was not healthy for a mother and son relationship.

I was listening to this conversation from the kitchen while they sat in the living room and argued.

"Hey Brandon, it wasn't my idea to have that kid. You wanted him."

"Dammit Diana, he can hear you I'm sure. What kind of mother says that about her kid?"

"Hey, I love him, but the money from traveling is crazy. I'd be doing it for all of us, not just myself."

"We have enough money from the store," Dad argued. 'You wouldn't even have to work, but you put in all the time to get your degree and certifications that it would be wrong to ask you to give it up. I just want you at home with your family. I don't think I'm being unreasonable at all."

"I'm going to travel," Mom said resolutely. "Do what you have to do."

"And Alex?"

"When I get back in town I'll get together, and we can spend some time shopping and visiting. He's not being abandoned."

"You just want to play the field. There's no way you will go 13 weeks without getting laid. I know better."

"Hey, you can do the same, mister. Find you a piece of ass and go for it. That's fair."

"No, it's not fair," argued Dad. "I'm married to you. I don't want to cheat on my wife no matter what she does. However, we won't be married any longer and you can bet your ass that you won't get shit out of this. I'm keeping the house, the business, and all its assets. If you don't like it, get a lawyer."

Mom never fought anything in the divorce. I think she wanted out so badly that she didn't care.

From then on, I didn't have a real mother. Yes, she'd stop by when she came back to town. She thought that she could buy my affection. She learned quickly that I didn't want her gifts. I needed time and she was too busy being selfish to give a damn about me.

Our house was a very nice one in a gated community with nearly any amenity you can imagine. Although we didn't have a pool in our backyard, we did have a sizable hot tub that I learned to enjoy, especially on the cooler fall and winter evenings.

Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a large kitchen and living room, and a den that also served as Dad's office.

I did well at school, but it was in the jewelry store at a young age that I realized that I wanted to work for my dad after high school.

I began working as an employee when I was 16. However, after school, the city bus would drop me off near the store and I'd use the break room to do my homework. When I finished, I'd hang around the sales floor and learn as much as I could about the business. At a very early age I learned how to determine the value of various rings, bracelets, necklaces, and broaches.

Later, after high school, I also learned how to resize rings. By the time I had graduated, I was a fully trained jewelry salesman. Still, Dad wanted me to go to college and take a few important business classes. He had already agreed to give me a small percentage of the ownership if I fulfilled the three classes that he believed would help me in the future.

That was a fair deal. Three classes. Three units each. I became a part-owner of Coffman Jewelers. It was only 20%, but for me, it was the start of a lifetime dream of having my own business, although at only 20%.

At 22, I married April Bryson. I met her when I was 18 and we took a class together.

She was short but built quite well. Her blonde hair and large boobs were an immediate attention-getter. She was pretty, smart, and had an amazing sense of humor with a quick wit.

For the first three years, it was a great marriage. She eventually wanted to start a family, but she wanted to become more financially stable first.

That should have been my first clue. I was already financially stable. I had already bought a home in preparation for having a wife and family.

She then began to behave erratically. She was a receptionist at a cola distribution center and had befriended a guy named Skylar that was a forklift operator.

She began spending more time away from home. Although she was always a very willing sex partner, when she'd come home after an extended absence, she was as horny as hell and couldn't get enough cock.

I finally learned through a customer that I knew also knew something about Skylar. He was a ringleader for a group of people that eschewed material belongings and believed in the concept of free love.

I certainly didn't want any children from her. I immediately got an appointment with a urologist and got a vasectomy. I had already seen the struggles of a single dad with my own dad. I didn't want history to repeat itself.

Also, it seemed that although Dad and I were successful in business, we were failures at choosing women. I had no desire to marry again. Any sex in the future would be simply friends with benefits.

April finally admitted that she hung out with Skylar and his friends, both male and female. She eventually admitted that she had enjoyed sex with him and some of his male friends.

She invited me to join them. She was convinced that I'd enjoy some of the ladies in the group. She was surprised when I told her that she was a sick slut. In her mind, she was doing me a favor by letting me screw her female friends. I knew that our marriage was doomed.

I tried to change her mind, but one morning when I got up, she had left for good. A note was left on our fridge saying that she, Skylar, and 9 others were leaving for Colorado to live at his cousin's home.

They both left their jobs without notice. Getting a divorce was difficult because she couldn't be located. She took her purse but left her credit cards behind.

My attorney hired a private investigator. He got as many names as possible of the group of 11 that left abruptly. It took over a month, but she was in southwest Colorado, just miles from the Utah border. It was a large house located more than 5 miles from any other town or residence.

They had completely gone off the grid. No phones, internet, or any of the basic amenities that most of us enjoy daily. She signed the documents without any argument.

To this day, I've never seen or heard from her. In fact, I'm not sure she's still alive. Yes, I'm curious about her well-being. A man can't love a woman without carrying a certain amount of concern for her. Still, there will be a cold day in hell before I'd even entertain any chance of being with her again.

Dad insisted that I move back in with him. I was 26 at the time with a large home. Dad thought like both a businessman and a father. It made no sense to continue paying a mortgage on a large house with only one occupant.

He didn't have a mortgage on his home, and it just made sense to move back into my old bedroom with the bathroom across the hall. That freed up a lot of money to invest elsewhere.

That arrangement worked well until he got involved with a woman named Carrie.

Carrie was only 30 years old and Dad was 50. Strangely enough, he first met her at the store when she was 20 and she and her fiancé were shopping for an engagement and wedding band set.

He took time to get to know her and her fiancé, Albert. As a typical young couple, they didn't have a lot of money to spend on rings. Dad knew that.

The markup on jewelry is one of the biggest in any industry. The set they wanted was 1200 dollars. Dad offered it for 1000. They got the financing and happily made the purchase.

Not only that, but he kept the rings to be sized, and they came back in the next day to pick them up. During that time, Dad had purchased a 100-dollar gift card from a large department store and handed it to them. It was a wedding gift for them.

Carrie remembered his kindness years later when her husband left her abruptly. She took her wedding band to Dad to sell on consignment.

Dad remembered her well. I had never met her because I was still in high school and only worked late afternoon hours.

Dad had pity on her. He bought it back from her on the spot at a price much higher than she would have usually received.

They began talking about their failed marriages. She couldn't believe that a mother could essentially leave her 10-year-old son behind. Again, when she came in, I wasn't there.

Dad invited her to dinner. It wasn't hard to see what he liked in her, at least physically.

She was tall, thin, and attractive lady with short raven-colored hair. Although she wasn't large busted, the size was perfectly in proportion to the rest of her lean build.

It wasn't until later that Dad explained that she was much more mature than her 30 years. He also knew that some were calling her a gold digger.

Carrie had a great job working in pharmaceutical sales. Her job did involve some travel but never was more than an overnight stay between sales calls to pharmacies, hospitals, and doctor's offices.

She had become much more financially independent since he first met her 10 years earlier. Between her lucrative job and other unexpected financial windfalls, she was very well off.

She explained her job to me. She didn't need dad's money. She had her own apartment. I listened and pretended to believe her.

I was still suspicious. I could understand that even a man of 50 could be lured by her appearance. It made more sense for a man like me, 27 at the time, to make a play for her.

It was harder to understand why a woman that was 30 would be interested in a man of 50. Why not someone closer to her own age?

Dad was determined. He asked me to join him down at City Hall to act as a witness to their marriage.

I didn't want to, but there was no way I could refuse his request. The man had given so much to me over the years. He had to be both father and mother to me.

For some reason, Carrie never seemed to care much for me. She wasn't necessarily rude, but she was always distant. I finally quit trying to be friends and simply lived there in my room, which was on the far opposite end of the house. At least I wouldn't have to listen to any noises coming from their room.

This continued for several months. It wasn't so bad since I seldom had a need to interact with her so much. I saw Dad at the store several hours each day except for Sundays which Dad had always insisted that the store close so that all the employees could spend their day with their families, whether it be a day of worship or a day of leisure.

Sundays was always my golf day, weather permitting. Some days, I also went to the driving range and practiced on my game. My best friends from high school, Zach and Pete would meet me at 7am, get a small breakfast at the clubhouse, and practice our swings at the range before our 8:30am tee time.

The three of us had been members of this club for many years, each of us joining when we were 22 years old. Our tee times were always the same. Some days, inclement weather would shorten our day. Cold weather wasn't a problem as long as the course was not too wet.

On the days when we couldn't golf, we'd hang out and Zach's house where his wife would treat us to some fresh bread and plenty of drinks. In our case, drinks usually meant a soda or iced tea. Neither of us were heavy drinkers. In fact, Pete abstained from it completely.

At home, I became tired of the Carrie treatment. Dad seemed oblivious to it. When made aware, he simply stated that we were adults and deal with it.

Finally, Dad insisted that the three of us meet in the dining room area and have a family meeting. I wasn't sure what good it would do, but as I mentioned earlier, it was hard to turn him down. He wasn't too demanding, so I agreed.

He had a large binder and a couple of folders on the table. I wasn't sure why they were there, but I waited for him to explain.

"Alex, before Carrie and I were married, she insisted on signing a prenuptial agreement. She knew that she was being portrayed by others, probably you as well, as a gold digger, an opportunist.

Against my better judgment, I agreed."

Dad handed me the agreement that was in one of the folders. I read it carefully. It was obvious that this was Carrie's idea.

"Now, since that time, I decided to make a change. This is news to Carrie, but I'm confident that it's fair to her.

Upon my passing, you will still have my two sizable life insurance policies, my savings, checking, as well as my stocks and bonds."

He looked at Carrie.

"Carrie, simply put, this house is yours upon my passing. I know what you said, but I thought this was fair. Alex, Carrie has been a great wife to me. She truly loves me and proves it daily, and I'm not just talking about the bedroom. That's only a small part of our bonding.

"Alex, if you're still here at that time, I expect you to stay. That's written in the will. It may be legally transferred to Carrie, but the conditions are that you stay as long as you need, even if she remarries. However, she is free to sell it if she wishes."

I wasn't sure what to say. Carrie was silent for several seconds as well.

"I'm okay Dad," I managed to say, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I knew what Dad's worth was. I knew that I'd be in financially very good condition even without the house.

I did begin to see Carrie in a different light. I saw her face when Dad mentioned that the house would be hers. She almost looked angry. She honestly didn't expect what was happening.

"Honey, that prenup was my way of letting you know that I loved you, the man, not the money. Even before I met you, I was doing very well financially. This isn't necessary."

"I know, Carrie," Dad answered. "I tried to come up with something that would be fair to both of you. Alex will be taken care of very well. You'll have a very nice home that has no mortgage. Alex will still have a home with no expenses except food and utilities. Alex is free to move out if he wishes, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Alex, save every penny you can while you're here. If you remarry, then I'm sure you'll leave, but until then, stay. If I drop dead tomorrow, this will and trust will be in effect as of last Friday."

Things improved only slightly with Carrie since that meeting. She still didn't make much of an effort to get to know me and any effort I made towards that end was not reciprocated. I had no intention of remarrying. If I had a girlfriend for the bedroom, I'd either bring her to my room or go to her place.

There were a few. Allison, aka Allie was the longest-term girlfriend I had. We lasted eight months until she insisted that we should get married.

I was always up front and honest to all my dates that I had no desire to marry again. Allie knew it but thought that she had given me enough time to change my mind. When I mentioned a prenuptial agreement like Carrie had signed, she got angry and our relationship ended right then.

Even Carrie showed a little disappointment in her. Surprisingly, she told me to stick to my guns and that any woman that truly loved me like she loved my dad would have no problem with it.

I thought that I had finally broken that thick layer of ice between us, but I was mistaken. It didn't take long before she was back to her distant self.

Five years later, something happened that shook my world.

Dad was in his office on a Monday morning while I went to St. Louis to a market display of some new various wedding bands and broaches.

On my way home, Dad was walking away from his office and into the hallway that led to the sales floor. Suddenly, he grasped his chest and fell.

Jake, our closing manager, ran to assist him while a customer called 911. It was too late. By the time they tried to revive him and get him to the hospital, he was pronouncing DOA. At 55 young years of age, my dad, the one that had taught me so much and had essentially raised me like a single parent, was gone.

I was 32 at the time without parents. I hadn't heard from my mother in over two years. I had no idea what her phone number was since she had it changed. I knew she lived in a suburb of St. Louis after she got a manager's job at a huge hospital there. I didn't realize that she had gone back on the road as a traveler again.

Carrie was distraught, but she shunned any efforts on my part to talk to her. Her parent's weren't able to drive long distances so they only offered comfort via phone conversations. She only had a few friends she could depend on for on-site comfort.

I took care of the funeral arrangements. I rented a large banquet room and per Dad's wishes, made his memorial service a large feast of chicken and brisket. This was even mentioned in his will.

By November last year, it had been four months since his untimely passing. Not much had changed between me and Carrie. Essentially, we were only roommates sharing a very large split wing house with each of us occupying opposite ends of the house.

I had found a website where various women would flirt, tease, and sometimes even remove their clothes online. Guys (and some girls) would buy "tokens" and the girls would perform various actions for them. The big money for the girls was when they went "private" and got very naughty.

I didn't get to spend much time there, but one night there was a girl named CaraB. She had long blonde hair and wore very dark wrap-around sunglasses.

She was very talkative online and would occasionally give a peek at her tits.

Although they weren't that big, she had the sexiest nipples of any girl I'd ever seen.

They easily protruded over a half inch from her areolas. They were rock hard. Nearly every man, including myself, complimented her on her sexy breasts.

She got to know me. I was known as The Love Ranger. My dad was a Lone Ranger fan, so I adopted an alternate to it.

The Love Ranger and CaraB became good online friends, although I never took her private. I could easily have afforded it, but I needed to stay anonymous. My face was too well-known locally to be seen by anyone, even CaraB. Oddly enough, I never realized that she never did cam to cam shows. Although the site allowed it, she opted to remain as the lone cam performer.

What if she was a local girl? What if she had been a customer in my store? I couldn't take that chance.

For four weeks, I could catch her online after 8pm at least twice a week. I had to share my time with others and sometimes, the screen would go blank when someone took her private.

Still, it was great way to get me sexually excited, and I'd often masturbate if her breasts were on full display for a few minutes. Guys would buy tokens to watch her play with her nipples or put ice on them to make them even harder. That would get me off every time.

One night, CaraB got a little careless with her camera as she adjusted it. The camera turned toward her bathroom for about a half minute while she changed clothes.