<span>Jesse’s mind now wandered back to an affair that he had with


    an older woman in Jamestown, NY. An affair that almost got him killed. After


    his father died, Jesse fell into a severe depression. His mother, his teachers,


    and his pastor all tried everything they could to help him, but his heart and


    spirit were broken. He started drinking heavily with his friends and teammates


    from high school. He had a fight with his longtime girlfriend over his


    drinking, and they broke up. His grades fell into the cellar, along with his


    morals. He started going out with the easy, sleazy girls in school that would


    give him instant gratification, and his performance on the playing field faded


    along with his scholarship dreams. Just before graduation on his eighteenth


    birthday, his downward spiral hit rock bottom. Drinking with some of his


    football teammates, he crashed on a friend’s couch. He had known Paul Jackson


    for only one year. His family had moved to Jamestown for Warren, Pennsylvania,


    only twenty miles away. Paul was an outstanding fullback with great speed,


    large, powerful legs, and a broad upper body; he could easily tear through the


    opponent’s line.


    <span>In the middle of the night, he woke up with Paul’s mother,


    Becky, whispering in his ear. Mr. Jackson was away on a construction site


    eighty miles away. She was wearing a sheer nightgown that revealed her


    voluptuous body in the soft light of the full moon coming through the large


    front window. Becky was an attractive woman of medium height, short brunette


    hair, large full breasts, and a sex drive that matched. Jesse had never seen


    her like this before. But it wouldn’t be his last time.


    <span>“Jesse, I’m going to give you a little birthday present that


    I promise you won’t forget.”


    <span>After that night, they saw each other for most of the summer


    until that one fateful day. Becky worked at a beauty salon in Jamestown, and


    her husband was a General contractor. Paul began working for his father


    full-time after he graduated, leaving Becky home alone on many days and nights.


    The Jackson home backed up to some heavy woods, and they had no neighbors for a


    hundred yards in any direction. Jesse would park his old Ford Mustang just off


    a dirt road a quarter mile behind the Jackson home in case Mr. Jackson came


    home unexpectedly. They could always hear Mr. Jackson coming home because his


    work truck badly needed a muffler. This gave Jesse ample time to scoot out the


    back door and into the woods. However, not this day, Mr. Jackson replaced his


    muffler with a new one. Walking in the back door, he went through the house


    looking for his wife, and that’s when he heard them. Becky was a very vocal


    lover, and Mr. Jackson immediately knew she had company. Mr. Jackson quietly


    found and loaded his Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum revolver and made his way to


    the master bedroom, where he found the door partially open. All he could make


    out was a chest of drawers. He slowly opened the door with his foot until he


    could see the bed. He could now see his wife facing away from him, straddling


    someone on HIS bed. He became enraged, and his hands started shaking from the


    adrenaline that was being injected into his now-broken heart. Finally, he


    couldn’t take it any longer and burst through the door.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    <span> “You fuckin whore, I’m


    gonna kill you,” Jackson yelled out through quivering lips.


    <span>Jesse was literally screwed. He was pinned down with no place


    to run or hide. But although Mr. Jackson was only a few feet from his cheating


    wife, the first shot blew out the headboard post just to the right side of her


    head. Jackson’s hands were shaking so severely that it was a miracle that he


    held onto the big gun at all. Terrified, Jesse shoved Becky off to one side


    just as the second shot just missed her again and struck the headboard just


    inches over his head. The noise from the roar of the .357 in the small room was


    not only deafening, it was terrifying. Becky was screaming and pleading for her


    husband to stop, but he refused to hear her pleas. The third shot was pointed


    right at Jesse’s head when Jackson pulled the trigger. Luckily for Jesse, it


    didn’t go off. In his haste to load the revolver, his hands were shaking so


    badly that he dropped one shell onto the floor, thinking he had loaded them all


    into the cylinders. Jesse wasn’t waiting around for the next shot. He flew off


    the bed and dove through an open window and through the screen at what seemed


    to be the speed of light. Now, Mr. Jackson turned his entire attention to the


    fleeing man. The fourth shot blasted out a chunk of the window frame just as


    Jesse passed through it. The last slug clipped his right ear as it flew by with


    the sound of a mad hornet, then cut a two-inch sapling in half twenty feet


    further into the woods.


    <span>Thankfully, no more shots were fired that day. Mr. and Mrs.


    Jackson would later divorce, and Paul no longer talked to Jesse. Jesse joined


    the army two weeks later. Thinking back, Jesse laughed at the vision of himself


    running through the woods, naked as the day he came into the world. It gave him


    new insight into the term used in Vietnam; "every swingin'' dick."