Chapter 3

It wasn’t just any old porn- It was Jamie’s friends from cheer-leading. They were completely naked and standing in what looked like a BDSM setting, with cages and whips in the background. The pictures were glossy and semi-professional but had no context – just a collection of poses and tits standing or crawling in front of sex toys and bondage gear.

"What the fuck is this?" Jamie asked out loud. The question sounding so wrong coming from her mouth.

Her mom and dad were shocked to hear their perfect little angel cuss. She hadn't done that around them before, but then the situation really did warrant the question.

With some prodding, Bill admitted he and some friends had put up a Craigslist ad for some models to do photos.

"With what money?" his wife demanded. He wasn't working, so the answer was obvious.

Rather than answer the question, Bill simply responded "Well ... well, if we could sell them, we’d have made our money back."

"How can you sell porn on the internet, Bill? Do you have a website? These are high school girls anyway, Bill ... what were you thinking?" His wife's tone was whatever the opposite word for supportive is.

At that point, from the other side of the room came, "Who buys porn anyway? Girls put that shit on their Facebook ... haha ... I seen Dad's pics on Cathy Griffin's Facebook, she was so proud of her boobies, haha ... stuck-up priss" Chris offered flippantly.

"What?" Even Bill wanted to know how Chris knew about his dabbling in porn.

Chris casually explained, as if it was something completely normal, that he’d always known where his dad keeps the porn on his computer. "The folder marked 'Not Porn'." Chris pointed out his dad had categorized porn by all topics and subjects, public exposure, to double penetration and everything in between. He’d obviously spent a lot of time categorizing what must be about 3 gigs worth of premium images and videos.

"You did this while you were supposed to be looking for a job?" Wendy asked her husband, with her hands on her hips. Her tone was seething, the veins in her lovely neck starting to throb.

Bill laughed in a way that didn't seem to get the gravity of what was being asked, as if it was a silly mistake, and said "Yeah, I know it sounds bad, but look: me and Chris here will do extra stuff around here, like you want..."

"Oh fuck no ... Divorce!! I’m taking the house, the car ... and Chris, you can get your stuff and get the fuck out too ... you can live with your dad, he gets custody of your fat ass ... I promise, I won't contest it ... you two deserve each other ... you sick fuckers." Wendy didn't cuss either, but this had brought it out of her. She even lit up a cigarette IN the house; considering how fit she was, it surprised everyone that she even had them. No one said a word about it, though.

She was so angry that there was just silence. It hung there, heavy and awkward.

Bill didn’t try to argue, debate, or stall. He just quietly started to pack his stuff, and even Chris got his. They were loading up Bill's truck with luggage when Bill came back in and started unhooking the family computer.

"Where are you going with that?" Wendy asked.

"Um ... it's my computer..."

"No, nothing in this house is yours, you’re lucky I let you pack your bags without checking them. If anything you stuffed in that bag is more than clothes, I'll take it from you when you get served with the papers, Bill."

"Look, Chris and I have nowhere to go ... I haven't been to the ATM. Maybe we could just sleep on this, and cooler heads prevail in the morning?" Bill offered the olive branch. He didn't want his wife to check his bags; he had stuffed some important sports memorabilia from his glory days in high school under the clothes and sundry items he’d packed.

Wendy thought about it. "Bill ... those were Jamie's FRIENDS you were jacking off to in here ... we CAUGHT You doing it ... Both your daughter and I saw your dick out, while you satisfied yourself ... If it was anything else, maybe I could see it ... but who knows what else you did on those photo shoots ... what you paid for ... get the fuck out of here, I don't want to see you again until the court date!"

And that was that, there was nothing left to be said.