Midnight phone call confession. This is a true story that happened to me a week ago. I was asleep when my phone began to ring. Whoever it was was being persistent as it continued ringing, even as I groaned irritably, until eventually I did. I didn't recognize the number calling me, and I was further upset when I saw the time, one seventeen a m. My voice sounded groggy when I took the call. Hullo this Jason Boffint. I didn't recognize the voice either and tried to clear my head to
know what he was calling about. Yeah, speaking, I mumbled, who's this, I've got your wife? I stopped what you heard me? White boy? I said that I've got your bitch here with me. My head was finally clearing. I say up on the bed and fumbled in the dark until I found the bedside lamps, which and flooded the room with light. I was the sole occupant of the bed and ought to be lying beside me, except she wasn't.
She hadn't returned home since eight o'clock p AM. I usually don't inquire where she goes because I know i'll likely not get a reasonable answer. It wasn't the first time she's done this, but I've never received a call like this one before. What the fuck are you talking about? I said, My voice was now devoid of sleep. Who are you and how did you get my number? How about you shut up and listen? The voice snapped, and I fell quiet. Your wife's name is Anna, the man continued.
I know where you live, white boy. I know what you do for a living, and even the car you drive. I even know what time you go to bed. What what I want you to do is drive to my pad right now and pick up your bitch. She can't make it home on her own, and I ain't wasting cab money on her ass. I was stunned beyond words and felt tongue tied for several seconds while I searched my head for a response. What have you done with my wife? The voice replied with a grating laugh. I've
been fucking her. What the fuck do you think, white boy? You coming by or what? Yeah? I flung the covers off my body and swung my legs off the bed. Yeah, I'm coming over. I still don't know who you are or where you live. You don't need to know me white boy. I'll text you my address, see you when you get here. The line went dead. I stood up from the bed, but made no move at all. I
scratched my head instead. As I pieced together the conversation I just had with the mystery collar, it sounded more like a call from a would be kidnapper holding Anna hostage. Somehow the bloke had had his fill and wanted to return her without seeking any weird demands. Yeah, this was fucking weird, all right, but there was only one thing to do about it. There came a pinging noise in my phone, and I looked and sat a text message. True to his word, the mystery man had sent his
address using true caller ID. I acquired the name of the mystery caller, Marshall Stevens. Never heard of him ever. The question know was how the fuck did Anna find him? And where? But that was for later. I grabbed my T shirt and went to the bathroom to wash my face after wearing it. Minutes later, I'd worn my jeans and jacket, grabbed my car keys, got into my car,
and then drove off into the night. The mystery caller, Marshall Stevens, lived in a housing apartment complex off Fontaine Boulevard, near the city's Civic Center. I had driven past this neighborhood several times when heading to my favorite home depot shop. But that's all I've done, driven by and never stopped. It wasn't the sort of neighborhood i'd like to find myself visiting. How Anna came to know someone residing here
was beyond me. But that was Anna. When it comes to knowing people, especially guys to fuck, she had an uncanny talent on how to find them. I parked my car and got out. I adjusted my shirt under my jacket before heading towards the designated building. It was a cold night, and I was shivering under my clothes. I was missing my bed, including the sleep I had been enjoying before this. I couldn't wait to get done here and return home. I found the apartment door and knocked.
Who is it? A voice asked, my name is Jason, and I'm here for my wife. I said a pause, then a lock turned and the door opened. The black man was thick, set, his frame nearly filled the doorway. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his pants were loose. He glared at me like I was nothing to him but an insect. You are the bitch's husband, Yes, I already told you that, are you, Marshal Nah So your Anna's cuck boy. The huge fellow grinned at me, then cocked a thumb over his shoulder and said, Marshal's in
the bedroom, fucking your bitch. Come on, bring your ass in here. I entered the apartment. The man shut the door, then led the way towards the bedroom. He introduced himself as Erin. From where I stood, I could hear the sex noise happening in there, including the squeaking noise of the bed. Anna was whimpering and hollering Marshal's name, begging him to fuck her harder. The sound of their bodies clashing made me WinCE. I stopped a foot from the
bedroom door as I was frightened to venture further. Mark laughed as he made past me and went inside the room. From where I stood, I could make out Marshal's frame past the doorway as he held Anna's legs while pounding her hard. His grunts melded with her cries, though hers were louder. The bed shook and squeaked with each thunderclap of their body. Marshal's groans were vivid to my ear. Drums, oh oough, fuck, yah, Whose pussy is this, bitch? Go on,
tell me whose fucking pussy is this? Yours all? It's all yours. This is Marshal's pussy, right, bitch, Yes, Anna screamed amid her moans. I'll fuck me, Marshal, fuck my fucking pussy. This is your pussy. Damn fucking right, it's mine, bitch. Marshal grunted as he went on firing into my wife. I swallowed my pride and decided to peek inside the room. Aside from Anna's legs and arms, I could barely make
her out as Marshal's bulk covered her. Aaron stood near the top of the bed, thrusting his cock into her mouth while Marshal kept on with his fucking. He exploded inside her eventually, and then Aaron came and took his place. I went and sat in the living room to wait it out, as it seemed they were far from done. The time was two eleven a m I was unaware of when I dozed off. Next thing I knew someone was tapping my arm and I came awake and saw
it was Anna. She was wearing a pair of leggings and a T shirt, which she had worn before leaving the house. Jason, Honey, let's get going, she said. She sounded tired, which I wasn't surprised by the sex I had witnessed her having. I came to my feet and looked at her. You're not wearing your bra, I observed, it's in my hand bag. She said, Can we go now? I'm fucking beat. Yeah. Sure. I took her arm and led her towards the door. Marshal stood by the bedroom
doorway in his pair of boxers. You both take care now, he said, I'll holler at you later. Babe, yea later, Anna replied, before following me out of the apartment. I held her by her waist as we then made it out of the building. My car was where I had left it. I was grateful for that. I helped Anna into the passenger seat and then came around, got behind the wheel, and started the car. The neighborhood looked sinister
as I drove for home. We said nothing during the drive, not even when we got home and I helped her inside the house. I assisted her out of her leggings. Like with her bra she wasn't wearing her panties either. Then washed her down in the bathroom, I helped her into her nightgown, and then we went to bed. The time was three twenty four a m. Dawn came and I got up and prepared for work, while Anna remained asleep. I left her there and carried my tool box with
me to the car and then drove off. I reminded myself to get to the bottom of whom Marshal Stephen was and how she had met him.