Robert Haydon Jones
and Amy Souza

Amy Souza
Inspiration piece

Me and Mary Lou
By Robert Haydon Jones

I want to tell you how Mary Lou and I got together but I warn you this story is all about sexual addiction and then the inevitable consequences over the decades.

When I met Mary Lou, I was just about all finished with my marriage to Emily. I had married her because she was pregnant with my child. Emily was three years ahead of me at our college in Ohio. She was a handsome, blonde woman who lived a couple of towns up the line from me in shoreline Connecticut.

On the first vacation back, Emily’s father met our train in New York State and dropped me off at my home. I liked her father. He was a cheery, attractive man. He worked in advertising. He wore a beautiful, expensive, sports jacket.

I was seven years older than Emily. I had gone straight from high school to the Marines. I had served two hitches, mostly overseas. I had been a highly successful recon sniper. But I had been very badly wounded when one of my buddies had an accidental discharge. They worked very hard at fixing me but they just couldn’t do it. They gave me full disability and another, really big deal, medal.

So, I rested a few months and then I went off to college. You wouldn’t know it just to look at me, but I was a monster. I had been a great sniper. I had killed at least 322 men over five years. It was very difficult, very dangerous work. I excelled at it. Then, suddenly, I couldn’t do it anymore.

I had just met Emily on the bus to the train station in Ohio. It turned out we were near neighbors in Connecticut. She offered me a ride home and I was glad to get it. We sat together on the train and we had s splendid conversation as we moved East. I liked Emily. She was very blonde and very attractive. I thought about fucking her sixteen ways to Sunday. I knew exactly what to do to ruin her forever. And ever.

By the time summer vacation ended, I had gotten Emily pregnant. We got married in a Catholic Church in Emily’s hometown. Then we headed back out to the college. We moved into brand new housing they had just built for vets with family like me.

Our son was born right on schedule. I hate to admit it, but our second son was born just eleven months later. The fact is I never did get around to breaking in Emily the way I intended. She was too damn busy taking care of our infant children. In fact, she moved back to Connecticut and delivered our second son there.

I did well in college. I finished up in two years and went on to work in New York as a copywriter. In no time, I was making serious money. The problem was that Emily was now a homemaker. I liked Emily but I needed more than a saint with me in the bed.

Fortunately, my job had me traveling a lot. In those days, I spent a lot of time on the West Coast. Before long, I had a bungalow in Santa Monica and the agency also paid for a pleasant studio apartment off Third Avenue in Manhattan.

Both of my residences were “staffed” by beautiful women. But I never worked weekends. I was almost always home. As I said, I liked Emily. She was a terrific mother. Before long, I was making really serious money. Ten years out I lived in a beautiful home with a fabulous pool and grounds. I had a million dollars in savings.

The problem was my relationship with Emily had withered. She was very unhappy. So was Yours Truly. I got along fine with my sons — but the awful truth is that I yearned for Mondays like a regular person yearns for Fridays.

Then one Monday morning, I shared a seat on the train to Manhattan with Mary Lou. That really is the end of the story. Mary Lou was married with three children. A year later, I left my wife and family. Two years later, I married Mary Lou.


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