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Subject: {ASSM} {GALAGO} Only Way Out (Maria Gonzales) 
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<1st attachment, "only.txt" begin>
If you are too young to read erotica, stop now or forever live
with the consequences.  If you are old enough to read erotica,
read on.  This story is copyrighted 1999 by Maria Gonzales.
Please email me, Maria1971@aol.com with any or all comploments,
cpmments or criticisms.
/~MariaGonzales/

The Only Way Out
By Maria Gonzales


     "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.  Ever. 
     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 worried 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
<1st attachment end>

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