Author's Note: I rarely write about things from the male POV. It is very difficult for me to write this way. But after a conversation I have been having with someone, I thought I might give it a try in this new genre. Based on feedback, if any, I can either continue the storyline or move back into what I do best. with that, The Author hopes you enjoy the tale, noting that, in all conversations between men and women, something gets lost in translation.
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I couldn’t believe how hot that was, my wife was talking dirty to me while we were making love. It got us both so worked up that we both climaxed together and had I not been wearing a condom, I very likely might have gotten her pregnant. I lay atop her, smiling a goofy smile as we kissed, lovingly, while we exchanged caresses. I could see it in her eyes, the look of sated lust, but more. A deep, soul-embracing love. The same love I had for her; I was sure. My cock was softening as it was finished draining into her, my semen dutifully contained, or so I hoped. We were getting ready to start making a baby in about six months, but her doctor took her off birth control recently, necessitating my needing to use a rubber until we were ready. It was a conservative approach, but at the same time, it also would give us the best chances for conception when the time came. We were just waiting to see when we could move into a bigger house so we could begin our ******, and the only thing holding us back was interest rates. They were currently sky-high. Thank you, idiots in Washington.
I rolled from her, onto my back, and she snuggled into my armpit, her soft voice letting out a small, kitten-like purr. It was what she did when she was very happy, relaxed, and content.
“Oh, wow, that was intense, Wen. Where did that come from?”
‘Wen’ was short for Wendy, my wife’s name.
“What? You mean my fantasies?” my wife countered.
“Yeah. You know, I wasn’t even sure you have fantasies. I don’t get to hear much of them. You keep them more secret than what’s in Fort Knox!”
She giggled softly.
“My Love,” she began “I have them. But some may not be to your liking. I worry about your ego. I mean, men are so fragile!”
Her small burst of laughter made me blush. She wasn’t wrong. My ego was just as fragile as the next guy’s, and the few times she had openly remarked about a guy she found particularly attractive did give me pangs of jealousy. But when we got home, I would make up for it by trying to pound her through the bedframe. The results for her were decidedly mixed but for me? Yeah, I got mine.
“So, what other fantasies do you have?”
“Well…” she began by softly trailing a perfectly manicured nail along my chest and through my chest hairs. I didn’t have a forest there, but it wasn’t smooth, either.
“I’ve liked to be the damsel in distress. You know, like in the movies? Like the lady in King Kong? Helpless to the villain’s evil plans?”
“You mean you like to be tied up? Hell, I can do that!”
She snorted and poked my chest, giving me a small ‘Ow’.
“No, Silly. I mean, like truly helpless, where you aren’t around. Where I don’t know who will rescue me, or even if I will be rescued in time.”
“You mean like in the old movies where the heroine is tied to the railroad tracks? Sweetheart, that is more than just dangerous, that is suicidal!”
She smacked my chest.
“Wow, you can be so thick at times. I just mean it is like I am in some form of danger. But that can be in many forms. I dunno, it is hard to describe. Like if there is a troublemaker in our midst and I can’t get help. Like the perils of Pauline kind of stuff, or suffering that fate worse than death.”
I shook my head. “You do like a wild ride, don’t you?”
“Well, yah! I married you, did I?”
That got a kiss. A deep, long, passionate, loving kiss. The kind where we both moaned softly. The kind that made us both come up for air. The kind that left both our hearts racing.
Snuggled back into place, she tapped my chest again, softly.
“Honey? That reminds me. I need some advice on something.”
I shifted my head to try and see her nestled in on me, but it was an empty gesture, my neck wasn’t a telescope.
“Ok, so what’s up?”
Her fingernail continued to draw along my chest. It felt good, every time.
“We have this guy at work, he’s been with us almost a year now, and he just got promoted. He’s my opposite but on the sales side.”
I understood this. My wife worked in a technical field. She was a mechanical engineer, with a Master’s degree. Me? I was in middle management at another company.
“Go on.” I encouraged her.
“Well, ever since he has been with us, he’s been a bit of an ass. He keeps bothering us girls every time he is in the office. It’s not just like he wants us to recognize him for being who he is, but he also thinks he is God’s gift to women.”
“Is he bothering you?”
It was something I could understand. I knew I had married up in the looks department. My wife was five-foot-six in her bare feet and had great curves. Her butt was part of her weekly workout routine, and her chest? Well, let’s just say I am a boob-man, and I love her D-cups. All told I would guess her figure measured at a 34D-28-36. Add in her long auburn hair, and yeah, she was a stunner. In particular, my stunner.
“A bit. I mean, sometimes he just won’t leave, despite my ignoring him, or trying to. I know he keeps trying to look down my top, or up my skirt.”
I pursed my lips for a moment. I had to figure out the right delay to pause, so I could give it serious consideration. Too short, and she would think I was dismissing her claims. Too long, and she would think I wasn’t paying attention.
“Have you tried HR?”
“No. I mean, even if I did, all he would do is have to take the mandatory hour class and he’d be right back to annoying us.”
At least I had timed the pause right.
“So, what do you think you want to do, then?”
“Honestly? I want to crush his ego. Hard.” She growled.
Her growls sounded more like an angry kitten, and I loved to listen to them. I would sometimes intentionally piss her off, just so I could hear them.
“Alright, this oughta’ be interesting. How do you plan on doing that?”
“Well, Alexa went on a date with him, and they went to a carnival. There, they went to play games, and when it came to the softball toss and the basketball shooting thing, she kicked his black butt. She said he kept bragging about how good he was, he and didn’t even come close to hitting anything!” She ended with a giggle.
“So?”
“So, Alexa played softball and basketball in high school and went to college on a softball scholarship. She is lethal at these games. She is popular at the company picnics when it comes to game time. Anyway, when they went to try that shooting gun thing, where did you hit targets and stuff? She outdid him again. He didn’t know she was a Marine. She says he hasn’t bothered her since.”
That made her giggle, and I laughed out loud at that one. Imagine some smooth-talker who had never even played at recess trying to out-shoot a Marine? I could understand how it crushed his ego. It had to be like playing ‘Whack-a-mole’ with a sledgehammer.
“Ok, Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble here, but you aren’t exactly a star athlete. I was the one playing tight end while you were cheerleading. Wait, his black butt? He’s a black guy?”
She giggled at my belated revelation. Maybe she had a point about my not listening completely.
“Yeah, he is. And not just a little black, he’s very dark-skinned. Shaves his head, and even wears his shirts unbuttoned a little so he can show off his chest hair. So, yeah, he’s black. So what? And yes, I know. It’s your tight end that made me want to date you!”
I chuckled as she giggled some more. I also had to let the race thing go. If she didn’t care, neither did I. I had some very capable black people working for me and was grooming a young black woman for promotion. She had the potential to go far in my company.
“OK, so what’s your plan? How are you going to crush his ego so badly? Put him under a faulty bridge you design?”
“Oh, of course not, Silly. I want to let him take me out on a date!”
“Excuse me, Love of my Life? You want to try that one again?”
“I… want… to… let… him… take… me... out… on… a… date.” She made sure her words were enunciated.
“Okay, you are going to have to explain this one to me like I am five. So far, the answer is not only no, but Hell no!”
“Here me out. It’s pretty simple. I don’t even like the guy. Remember how I brushed off that guy you used to work with last Christmas? I can do that again, pretty easily. So, I want to do it. I want to set his ego up so high that when it gets crushed, it’ll make him lose his will to live. I’m going to dress up prettily for him, make all of the efforts to be arm candy, and then leave him high, dry, and so embarrassed that a blind man could see him blushing.”
I grunted. “Wow. You are motivated to hurt him, aren’t you?”
“Well, yah! I want to not only get him out of my office, but everyone else’s too. I’d rather push him off our floor, and let somebody else deal with him.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take this to HR?”
“Honey, it has already been tried. He did the training and behaved for less than a week. Truth is, I think he just can’t help it. That arrogance isn’t an act, it is who he is, and the only way to fix it is to crush it.”
She smashed her open palms together and rotated them like she might squash a bug. I had to give her credit, her confidence in this was rather inspiring. She had a plan, even if I didn’t like it. She was also motivated, and she had the will to do it.
“Alright. I’ll say yes. But if it goes wrong, you go straight to your HR, got it?”
“Yes, Honey, alright. Deal.”
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A couple of nights later, she came home from work, all smiles.
“Had a good day, did you?”
“Ohhh yeah. Operation Bug on a Windshield is underway!”
“So when is it?”
“This Friday night. I’m gonna take comp-time and get ready for him, and then break his spirit.”
“I hope you are meeting him somewhere. I sure as Hell am not going to play some sort of wimp husband in this little charade of yours if you’re being picked up here.”
“Not at all, Honey.” She kissed my cheek.
“He doesn’t have the comp-time I do, so he has to work. I’m going to meet him at the office, and we’ll go from there.”
“Where is he taking you?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Dinner for sure, and then a show, I think?” She shrugged.
“You better be sending me texts to keep me posted.” It was my time to growl, and mine wasn’t nearly as pleasant as hers.
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Fridays are our hybrid work days, so I stayed home as well. True to her word, on Friday she slept in, and then went to her hair stylist and got a mani-pedi as well. Her nails looked amazing, and I wanted a back scratch from them! I also wanted to feel her scratching my back while I was on top of her, but she kept pushing me away.
“Down, boy. Down! You’ll get your turn later.”
We had a late lunch and chatted, me more nervously than her, and she looked at the clock.
“Time to get ready for my date!”
She was rubbing it in, as my voice let out a big groan of disappointment. In truth, it was more than a little tinged with jealousy. I was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable with her plan.
She giggled as she shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. She knew my other favorite tactic. Attack when she was cornered in the shower! Oh, well.
When she came out, she looked sparkling clean and smelled delicious. I also noticed she had trimmed her pubic hair, to give her a flat landing strip that pointed to her clit.
“Ummm, you are going to crush his ego, right?” my voice asked with uncertainty.
“Yes, Robby, don’t worry. I did this for you in case you get lost later.”
Again, came her giggling as she went to apply her makeup. Smokey eyes, a darker blush, and the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen. They drew attention to needing to be kissed!
So, I sat on the bed and watched her getting ready. She took great pains to get it all right. I doubt she went into this much trouble on our wedding day. She dug into her lingerie drawer and poked about, pulling out different pairs of panty and garter sets, then searching for the right color stockings. She was doing this right. I just wished it was for me. I was starting to get jealous again. When I tried to approach her from behind, since she was still naked, I was granted a small treat when she delved her hand into my shorts and grasped my cock and balls. At first, I thought I was going to get a gift of release until she gave me a warning squeeze. That made me throw up my hands in concession. She had won.
So, sitting back down on the corner of the bed, I watched her as she softly hummed to herself, while I took in the glory that was my wife. I loved her so very much, the thought of all this was beginning to hurt. She drew on sheer white stockings, and then her lacey white garter belt and satin thong. It took me a moment to realize that they were what she wore under her wedding dress when she walked down the aisle to me. The same wedding lingerie that I so delicately removed with my teeth in the honeymoon suite, and the same lingerie she was stuck with when her suitcase was lost on our honeymoon.
Next, she went to her side of the closet and bent at the waist to look for shoes. Black sets were tossed aside, her blood-red ‘fuck-me’ stilettos were set carefully nearby, and her white strappy sandals were evaluated before being tossed with the black ones. Then she climbed to her tiptoes to reach the shelf and pulled out the box. The box that held her pure white patent leather stilettos. The very same heels she wore to our wedding. Pulling them out, she looked them over and then nodded. She had made her selection. Then it came time for the dress.
She pulled out the new dress I bought her for our next anniversary, which was soon. Blood red, with a halter top and a short circle skirt, the dress screamed sex appeal. She shook her head and put it back. Thank goodness! Then came her long black satin gown, slit to her hip. It got an instant rejection. More relief. Some sundresses were instantly rejected, a few dresses she usually wore to work were similarly put back, and then she delved deeper into the closet, and pulled it out. It was the white satin dress she wore at our wedding rehearsal, and on the day after our wedding. She also wore it a few more times on our honeymoon, due to her missing suitcase.
The dress had a very 1950s flair to it, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a built-in bra. The waist was slimming, and the skirt had a high-waisted circle skirt, hemmed above her knees. It was a very pretty, feminine, and to me, extremely sexy dress, especially when we reached our hotel on our honeymoon. We had just exited the taxi and the on-shore breeze blew her skirt up, and let everyone see her lingerie, the same set I was looking at the minute before. She squealed, but I found it arousing as hell, and I could not wait to throw her onto the bed and ravish her. Just like I wanted to do now, but she wouldn’t let me. I had to sigh at the memory.
“Relax, Honey, you’ll get your just rewards with me when I get back. Remember, this is me getting ready for war, not for play. Play is what I get when I get back, too!”
She gave me that killer smile that melted my heart, and I could see it in her eyes. She meant it. So shortly later, with some touching up of her makeup, packing her white satin clutch to match her outfit, and the world’s briefest, softest, barely-felt kiss, she dashed out, and the last I saw her before her ‘date’ was her driving down the street.
The first few hours were bearable. She texted me that they had left for dinner, in his car, and she even managed to sneak a quick photo of him. I was not comfortable with what I saw. He was, indeed, handsome, tall, well-dressed, and looked like a solidly built man. I imagined he could have any woman he wanted, or anything, for that matter. I was having doubts now, that my wife could resist his charming appearance. Even if he was an arrogant asshole.
I made a quick dinner of microwaved leftovers and watched the baseball game, only half-concentrating on it. The rest of my brain was becoming filled with worry. I was also getting horny, thinking of how my night was going to end when my wife rushed back to my arms, and into our bed. I was growing so wanting that I debated about jerking off, to allow me some immediate relief, and to build up stamina for later. But I held off. I had a beer, along with a mindless action movie filled with too many stunts and explosions and not nearly enough plot. It took me another beer to tolerate that movie, as well. My phone pinged, with a simple thumbs-up emoji from her. Things were going well. That was around 9 PM. OK, so they were done with dinner or should be, so I imagined she should be deflating his ego about now. Or maybe she had already shredded his manhood and was on her way home? I found a show I liked and had another beer, and the next thing I knew, I heard her car chirp as she locked it with her remote. She was home!
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I had dozed off on the couch, in my t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with three dead soldiers in front of me. As I rose to greet her, the door burst open, and she looked at me.
“Don’t say a fucking word!” she ordered as she stormed right past me and upstairs to our bedroom.
Still coming to full consciousness, I had to glance at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning! What the Hell?
I raced after her, my mind becoming alive with so many questions.
“Wait! You are just now getting home? Why? What happened?”
I heard the shower running as I reached our bedroom. I stopped inside the door, as she was in the middle of taking her dress off, and what I saw stopped me cold.
She looked like she had never gotten ready for the date. Her hair was a mess, tousled and probably tangled, and her makeup looked like she had smeared a sponge over her face, and that was when I first noticed it. The bruising. She had a deep purplish-red mark on her neck, below her ear, and as she turned, I saw another one on the other side, near her clavicle. As she pulled her dress up over her head, I saw the markings on her inner thighs, her crotch, and her breasts. I then belatedly realized she had no panties on, either.
“Wendy, what the Hell happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
Her voice had a different tone, a more sinister snarl. This wasn’t the growl of an angry cute kitten. This was the dark menacing voice of a lioness who was beyond pissed. I tried to press her, but she stepped in the shower and began to peel off her lingerie, washing it out as she then began to clean herself, too. I did notice she spent extra effort on trying to wash off her vaginal area. I had this sense of foreboding. Her plan must’ve gone very badly. Very, very bad.
Not knowing what else to do, I went to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. She didn’t drink it often, but there were times she would enjoy the comfort it gave her. I was carrying it up the stairs when the shower turned off. She emerged just after I entered, setting the tea on her side of the bed’s nightstand. A towel wrapped around her head, and just folding a towel around her body, she gave me a weak smile and then went for the tea. Wordlessly, she took a sip, and then a second, before daintily setting it down at her vanity as she began her nightly ablutions to go to bed. At the ripe hour of five in the morning.
“Want to talk about it now?”
“Not really.”
“Honey, this isn’t fair to me. I can see something happened. I love you, and I know we can fix whatever it is. So please… just tell me?”
Setting down the towel from her hair, she picked up her brush and began to smooth it out.
“Alright. But first, you have to promise me you won’t yell at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. It should have worked. My plan really should have worked.”
It was then I started to notice her eyes. They were beginning to brim with tears. I took her in my arms and just held her as she began to cry. In her honor, she did try to tell me, but all I heard was a tearful voice as her chest was wracked with sobs, while her face was buried on my shoulder. It took her about fifteen minutes before she could face me.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I need that again, in human words.” I ended with a genuine smile. Anything to lighten the mood.
She looked at me again, her eyes bloodshot.
“I had him right where I wanted him. Thinking he was going to get lucky. That he was going to get this marvelous piece of ass he lusted for. That was when I texted you the thumbs-up.”
I simply nodded.
“He was being a perfect gentleman so far. Minding his p’s and q’s, and with impeccable manners. I could just as well have been with you, so far. He kept reminding me of you in his gestures. He never was rude or crude at dinner or even while we went dancing.”
“Dancing? I didn’t know you were going dancing.”
“Neither did I.” She grunted. “But on the dance floor, he was being suave. A gentleman, to be sure, but I began to get the hints of his wants. The lingering touching, the gyrations that grew in intensity, and the fact he loved to spin me. I swear my skirt spent more time at my waist than it did at my knees.”
She shook her head.
“That is when I felt the booze begin to kick in. I know he didn’t ply me with a bunch of alcohol, as I only had three, but he must’ve had them made extra stiff or something. I mean, I remember everything, but I just became more relaxed with him. I was feeling good with him. That was when he asked me if I wanted to leave.”
She shook her head as I stood there, spellbound, though I felt the stirrings of an erection growing in my pajamas. It was like listening to a damsel in distress story, knowing what was coming and I could do nothing about it. Like my wife was living out her deepest and most intimate secret. Her fantasy was coming to life, and I was powerless to rescue her.
“For some reason, I said yes. I still don’t know why. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t. But I did.”
“And?”
“And so back in his car, he was driving, and he started to feel me up. At first, it was just an accidental brush against my thigh, and then more. I tried to keep removing it, but it was like he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. So, I gave up and let him feel my thigh and the satin of my dress. He kept sliding his hand up and down, my dress was sliding smoothly on my stockings, and I have to admit, it felt good. Oddly, though, I had no clue where we were going, and I didn’t think it was important to know. I remember we pulled into a parking structure and stopped on the top level. He was a gentleman as he opened the car door for me, and as I stepped out, the windy breeze caught my dress again. It had been happening most of the night, only this time I wasn’t ready for it, and he got a good look at everything. As I was trying to put my skirt back under control, that was when he did it.”
“He did what?” My heart was racing at this point, as was my boner.
“He kissed me. Long, hard, and deep. His tongue was in my mouth as I had squealed about my dress, and he was then all hands and lips. He was licking my tongue, my gums, my teeth, everything. It was like a surprise attack, and I didn’t see it coming. To be honest, he is a damn good kisser.” She paused.
“But that didn’t mean I was going to sleep with him!” she added. “I recovered myself and reached back to try and slap him. I was aiming for the side of his face, just above his jaw, and I was going to remove his head from his neck. That I show hard I wanted to hit him.”
She pursed her lips and then shook her head, her voice now softly subdued.
“That is when it happened.”
“Honey, what happened? Tell me?” I was growing alarmed.
“That was when he ***** me.”
“What?” It was now my turn to growl, like an angry lion. “Where the fuck can I find him?”
Shaking her head, she tried to dissuade me.
“Robby... look, I love you… but please... don’t even try to take some sort of revenge. I know you were an all-star in high school and were in excellent shape, but that was almost ten years ago. Believe me, I love you just the way you are, but physically, you are no match for him. Believe me, I know.”
“You saw him naked?”
She just nodded.
“But not at first. Right there on the trunk of his car, he was manhandling me like I was nothing. He has an easy six inches on me, and that is with my heels. He had me on the deck lid and was reaching under my dress, pulling at my panties as I was trying to fight my dress, and him. I resorted to begging him to stop, but he never hesitated. In the end, he had, or actually, still has, my panties.”
At the moment, I had no idea what to do. I had a warrior’s heart, with a rookie’s mind, and a raging hard-on to get rid of.
“He then hefted me over his shoulder and simply carried me to his place, like I didn’t even matter!”
One thing I loved was her great ability to be descriptive. I could imagine just about anything she explained to me easily. Only right now, I was hating the fact she had such excellent communication skills.
“I cried out for help, but I don’t think anyone either had the time to help me or cared to. Before I knew it, was in his apartment, bouncing on his bed. That was when I knew I was sunk. I was wearing a satin dress, on a satin comforter, with satin bedding. Plus, the only movement I could make was with my heels, and I kept getting a heel caught in my skirt. As I tried to escape, I couldn’t get anywhere, while he was kicking off his shoes and then diving under my dress. I tried to push him away, but he was covered by the skirt and so I had to try and endure him. I kept begging him to stop, even thrashing my legs, but he just adjusted himself to cradle my thighs with his shoulders, bending me so my vagina was at his lips. I felt his finger slide inside me, and between his massaging my G-spot and teasing my clit with his tongue, he made me climax, twice!”
Okay, so now I knew I wasn’t going to go kill this guy right now. I was too riveted to the spot by my wife’s words. I had to adjust my penis and came away with a wet spot on my underwear. I was leaking pre-cum from her travails.
“And?”
“And that was when he stripped naked, and I got to look at him all. And I do mean all, Honey, this is why I don’t want you to go after him. He’s bigger than you in every way.”
“What do you mean, ‘every way’?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it.
“Robby, my Love, he is taller than you and works out. He isn’t a body-builder type, but he is well-muscled. I could see his abs, and he had a six-pack. You lost yours when we graduated high school.”
“That’s because you are a fantastic cook and started feeding me.”
It was a long-running joke between us. It did make her smile a little.
“Thank you, Honey, but I know you are hungry for more than food right now. So please let me finish?”
I simply nodded.
“Alright, so as I lay there, trying to regain my senses, he simply climbed on top of me, lifted my arms over my head, and used his tie to bind my wrists to his headboard. After he had me helpless, he then began to slap my lips with his cock. He told me to suck it, but by then, I had recovered enough and refused. He had kissed me by surprise, but that was the last time he was going to get into my mouth! So, that is when he lifted the skirt. He didn’t try and take my clothes off, no show of decorum or propriety. He was just a predator, and he was taking what he could. He already had my panties, and I know between the orgasms and everything, I was certainly wet enough for him. He knelt between my thighs and kept them apart, while he exercised his cock, waving it at me to see it. He told me that I was going to get fucked by the biggest cock I had ever seen.”
She started blushing.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but he was right. He is bigger than you in the sex department, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you make love to me, but he has you beat by a few inches, and he sure knows how to use it.”
She hesitated, looking up at me, her gaze hoping for some form of reassurance, or even acceptance of what happened. I realized I couldn’t be mad at her for all this. I could, and would, be pissed as Hell at the situation, and at this guy, whom I belatedly realized I didn’t even have a name for, other than arrogant black ******. But I couldn’t be mad at her.
“Alright… go on.”
“So, he got all hard, and then he grabbed my ankles and stuck them on his shoulders, while he then began to put his cock inside me. He didn’t just ram it in, thank heavens, but he took the time to make me feel him. He used his cock to slide my labia open and tease my clit by slapping it with his cock some more, and as I started to be defeated, he then lined up and pushed into me. I writhed under him, crying out because it hurt, at first, but he took some pity on me and made sure I was feeling him until he gained access to my vagina. He then began to force-feed himself into me, which made my back arch and I twisted and writhed under him, but it was too late. Once he was in, which took him several thrusts, I felt him even beyond what I thought I could.”
By now, I was so hard I could have used my dick as a hammer, but I had to let her continue.
“Once he began to thrust in me, I was done for. I couldn’t do anything. He shifted his arms, and made my knees fall over his elbows as he curled his knees up under my hips, and cradled my body in his, making me feel every fraction of him as he fucked me. It took me a minute or so to remember that I was not on the pill, and so I begged him to pull out, and not to make me get pregnant with his child, but that just seemed to spur him on. He then began to control me with his cock, using his thrusts and his pelvis to grind against my pearl and to make my voice cry out. That is when he was able to kiss me again. He was lewd about it, and between his cock in me and his tongue, I gave in. I had no more fight left in me and I surrendered to him.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, Honey, I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t do it. I thought I was stronger than him, but I am just not. He destroyed me and took what he wanted. I am so sorry, Robby. I love you!”
Her face buried in my chest some more as she cried, and I did the only human thing I could, which was to hug her and soothe her. I love my wife, and at that moment, I still wasn’t angry with her. I couldn’t be. I kissed her hair and held her, trying to shush away her tears. All the while I had this almost painful erection. I was going to need relief soon, or I was just going to climax myself by listening to her!
“Are you ready, Sweetheart?” I finally asked.
She sniffled back some runaway snot.
“Yeah, I’m sorry…” she wiped away some tears and continued.
“So, he and I had sex. I won’t call it making love, because I don’t love him, but we had sex. Yes, that also means we kissed. Heavily and passionately. He gave me two more orgasms, which just was wearing me out. But he had me for everything I had in me to give” She hesitated. “That includes my womb. He climaxed and came in me, and after he had cum inside me, he stayed on top of me, lifted my legs back to his shoulders, and used his fingers on my clit to make me orgasm again.”
I had to take a deep breath. This truly was the ultimate damsel in distress defeated fantasy she lived out. It was making me wonder if she didn’t fight him off all that hard.
“That explains all of your hickeys and bruises.”
She took a deep breath.
“Yeah, he got pretty rough with me every time.”
“Every time? What do you mean?”
“Honey, after he was done, he rested and left me tied up. He was touching me, and kissing me, and when he was ready, he had me again. Somewhere in the second time, he released my arms, and yeah…I responded to him more passionately. I even fell asleep in his arms after the third time. I only awoke when he was spreading my legs for the last time. After that, he took me to the office and let me come home. He fucked me, and I fucked him back, however, you want to put it, but my plan failed miserably. He turned me into his bitch last night.”
More tears came as her disappointment with herself became evident. She hadn’t just let me down; she had let herself down. I didn’t know women could make so many tears. But finally, she yawned, and I noticed that the sun was coming up.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you in bed. We need to sleep, and maybe I can try and reclaim my wife?” I asked rather hopefully. My hard-on was aching.
She wordlessly headed to the bed, dropping her remaining towel on the floor before she climbed under our sheets, naked. I hopped around to the other side, diving in, pulling down my pajamas and jockeys. Pulling my manhood out, I began to make my moves on her, but she turned over.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but I can’t. I have a date with him tomorrow night.”
----------------------
I couldn’t believe how hot that was, my wife was talking dirty to me while we were making love. It got us both so worked up that we both climaxed together and had I not been wearing a condom, I very likely might have gotten her pregnant. I lay atop her, smiling a goofy smile as we kissed, lovingly, while we exchanged caresses. I could see it in her eyes, the look of sated lust, but more. A deep, soul-embracing love. The same love I had for her; I was sure. My cock was softening as it was finished draining into her, my semen dutifully contained, or so I hoped. We were getting ready to start making a baby in about six months, but her doctor took her off birth control recently, necessitating my needing to use a rubber until we were ready. It was a conservative approach, but at the same time, it also would give us the best chances for conception when the time came. We were just waiting to see when we could move into a bigger house so we could begin our ******, and the only thing holding us back was interest rates. They were currently sky-high. Thank you, idiots in Washington.
I rolled from her, onto my back, and she snuggled into my armpit, her soft voice letting out a small, kitten-like purr. It was what she did when she was very happy, relaxed, and content.
“Oh, wow, that was intense, Wen. Where did that come from?”
‘Wen’ was short for Wendy, my wife’s name.
“What? You mean my fantasies?” my wife countered.
“Yeah. You know, I wasn’t even sure you have fantasies. I don’t get to hear much of them. You keep them more secret than what’s in Fort Knox!”
She giggled softly.
“My Love,” she began “I have them. But some may not be to your liking. I worry about your ego. I mean, men are so fragile!”
Her small burst of laughter made me blush. She wasn’t wrong. My ego was just as fragile as the next guy’s, and the few times she had openly remarked about a guy she found particularly attractive did give me pangs of jealousy. But when we got home, I would make up for it by trying to pound her through the bedframe. The results for her were decidedly mixed but for me? Yeah, I got mine.
“So, what other fantasies do you have?”
“Well…” she began by softly trailing a perfectly manicured nail along my chest and through my chest hairs. I didn’t have a forest there, but it wasn’t smooth, either.
“I’ve liked to be the damsel in distress. You know, like in the movies? Like the lady in King Kong? Helpless to the villain’s evil plans?”
“You mean you like to be tied up? Hell, I can do that!”
She snorted and poked my chest, giving me a small ‘Ow’.
“No, Silly. I mean, like truly helpless, where you aren’t around. Where I don’t know who will rescue me, or even if I will be rescued in time.”
“You mean like in the old movies where the heroine is tied to the railroad tracks? Sweetheart, that is more than just dangerous, that is suicidal!”
She smacked my chest.
“Wow, you can be so thick at times. I just mean it is like I am in some form of danger. But that can be in many forms. I dunno, it is hard to describe. Like if there is a troublemaker in our midst and I can’t get help. Like the perils of Pauline kind of stuff, or suffering that fate worse than death.”
I shook my head. “You do like a wild ride, don’t you?”
“Well, yah! I married you, did I?”
That got a kiss. A deep, long, passionate, loving kiss. The kind where we both moaned softly. The kind that made us both come up for air. The kind that left both our hearts racing.
Snuggled back into place, she tapped my chest again, softly.
“Honey? That reminds me. I need some advice on something.”
I shifted my head to try and see her nestled in on me, but it was an empty gesture, my neck wasn’t a telescope.
“Ok, so what’s up?”
Her fingernail continued to draw along my chest. It felt good, every time.
“We have this guy at work, he’s been with us almost a year now, and he just got promoted. He’s my opposite but on the sales side.”
I understood this. My wife worked in a technical field. She was a mechanical engineer, with a Master’s degree. Me? I was in middle management at another company.
“Go on.” I encouraged her.
“Well, ever since he has been with us, he’s been a bit of an ass. He keeps bothering us girls every time he is in the office. It’s not just like he wants us to recognize him for being who he is, but he also thinks he is God’s gift to women.”
“Is he bothering you?”
It was something I could understand. I knew I had married up in the looks department. My wife was five-foot-six in her bare feet and had great curves. Her butt was part of her weekly workout routine, and her chest? Well, let’s just say I am a boob-man, and I love her D-cups. All told I would guess her figure measured at a 34D-28-36. Add in her long auburn hair, and yeah, she was a stunner. In particular, my stunner.
“A bit. I mean, sometimes he just won’t leave, despite my ignoring him, or trying to. I know he keeps trying to look down my top, or up my skirt.”
I pursed my lips for a moment. I had to figure out the right delay to pause, so I could give it serious consideration. Too short, and she would think I was dismissing her claims. Too long, and she would think I wasn’t paying attention.
“Have you tried HR?”
“No. I mean, even if I did, all he would do is have to take the mandatory hour class and he’d be right back to annoying us.”
At least I had timed the pause right.
“So, what do you think you want to do, then?”
“Honestly? I want to crush his ego. Hard.” She growled.
Her growls sounded more like an angry kitten, and I loved to listen to them. I would sometimes intentionally piss her off, just so I could hear them.
“Alright, this oughta’ be interesting. How do you plan on doing that?”
“Well, Alexa went on a date with him, and they went to a carnival. There, they went to play games, and when it came to the softball toss and the basketball shooting thing, she kicked his black butt. She said he kept bragging about how good he was, he and didn’t even come close to hitting anything!” She ended with a giggle.
“So?”
“So, Alexa played softball and basketball in high school and went to college on a softball scholarship. She is lethal at these games. She is popular at the company picnics when it comes to game time. Anyway, when they went to try that shooting gun thing, where did you hit targets and stuff? She outdid him again. He didn’t know she was a Marine. She says he hasn’t bothered her since.”
That made her giggle, and I laughed out loud at that one. Imagine some smooth-talker who had never even played at recess trying to out-shoot a Marine? I could understand how it crushed his ego. It had to be like playing ‘Whack-a-mole’ with a sledgehammer.
“Ok, Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble here, but you aren’t exactly a star athlete. I was the one playing tight end while you were cheerleading. Wait, his black butt? He’s a black guy?”
She giggled at my belated revelation. Maybe she had a point about my not listening completely.
“Yeah, he is. And not just a little black, he’s very dark-skinned. Shaves his head, and even wears his shirts unbuttoned a little so he can show off his chest hair. So, yeah, he’s black. So what? And yes, I know. It’s your tight end that made me want to date you!”
I chuckled as she giggled some more. I also had to let the race thing go. If she didn’t care, neither did I. I had some very capable black people working for me and was grooming a young black woman for promotion. She had the potential to go far in my company.
“OK, so what’s your plan? How are you going to crush his ego so badly? Put him under a faulty bridge you design?”
“Oh, of course not, Silly. I want to let him take me out on a date!”
“Excuse me, Love of my Life? You want to try that one again?”
“I… want… to… let… him… take… me... out… on… a… date.” She made sure her words were enunciated.
“Okay, you are going to have to explain this one to me like I am five. So far, the answer is not only no, but Hell no!”
“Here me out. It’s pretty simple. I don’t even like the guy. Remember how I brushed off that guy you used to work with last Christmas? I can do that again, pretty easily. So, I want to do it. I want to set his ego up so high that when it gets crushed, it’ll make him lose his will to live. I’m going to dress up prettily for him, make all of the efforts to be arm candy, and then leave him high, dry, and so embarrassed that a blind man could see him blushing.”
I grunted. “Wow. You are motivated to hurt him, aren’t you?”
“Well, yah! I want to not only get him out of my office, but everyone else’s too. I’d rather push him off our floor, and let somebody else deal with him.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take this to HR?”
“Honey, it has already been tried. He did the training and behaved for less than a week. Truth is, I think he just can’t help it. That arrogance isn’t an act, it is who he is, and the only way to fix it is to crush it.”
She smashed her open palms together and rotated them like she might squash a bug. I had to give her credit, her confidence in this was rather inspiring. She had a plan, even if I didn’t like it. She was also motivated, and she had the will to do it.
“Alright. I’ll say yes. But if it goes wrong, you go straight to your HR, got it?”
“Yes, Honey, alright. Deal.”
------------------
A couple of nights later, she came home from work, all smiles.
“Had a good day, did you?”
“Ohhh yeah. Operation Bug on a Windshield is underway!”
“So when is it?”
“This Friday night. I’m gonna take comp-time and get ready for him, and then break his spirit.”
“I hope you are meeting him somewhere. I sure as Hell am not going to play some sort of wimp husband in this little charade of yours if you’re being picked up here.”
“Not at all, Honey.” She kissed my cheek.
“He doesn’t have the comp-time I do, so he has to work. I’m going to meet him at the office, and we’ll go from there.”
“Where is he taking you?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Dinner for sure, and then a show, I think?” She shrugged.
“You better be sending me texts to keep me posted.” It was my time to growl, and mine wasn’t nearly as pleasant as hers.
-------------
Fridays are our hybrid work days, so I stayed home as well. True to her word, on Friday she slept in, and then went to her hair stylist and got a mani-pedi as well. Her nails looked amazing, and I wanted a back scratch from them! I also wanted to feel her scratching my back while I was on top of her, but she kept pushing me away.
“Down, boy. Down! You’ll get your turn later.”
We had a late lunch and chatted, me more nervously than her, and she looked at the clock.
“Time to get ready for my date!”
She was rubbing it in, as my voice let out a big groan of disappointment. In truth, it was more than a little tinged with jealousy. I was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable with her plan.
She giggled as she shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. She knew my other favorite tactic. Attack when she was cornered in the shower! Oh, well.
When she came out, she looked sparkling clean and smelled delicious. I also noticed she had trimmed her pubic hair, to give her a flat landing strip that pointed to her clit.
“Ummm, you are going to crush his ego, right?” my voice asked with uncertainty.
“Yes, Robby, don’t worry. I did this for you in case you get lost later.”
Again, came her giggling as she went to apply her makeup. Smokey eyes, a darker blush, and the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen. They drew attention to needing to be kissed!
So, I sat on the bed and watched her getting ready. She took great pains to get it all right. I doubt she went into this much trouble on our wedding day. She dug into her lingerie drawer and poked about, pulling out different pairs of panty and garter sets, then searching for the right color stockings. She was doing this right. I just wished it was for me. I was starting to get jealous again. When I tried to approach her from behind, since she was still naked, I was granted a small treat when she delved her hand into my shorts and grasped my cock and balls. At first, I thought I was going to get a gift of release until she gave me a warning squeeze. That made me throw up my hands in concession. She had won.
So, sitting back down on the corner of the bed, I watched her as she softly hummed to herself, while I took in the glory that was my wife. I loved her so very much, the thought of all this was beginning to hurt. She drew on sheer white stockings, and then her lacey white garter belt and satin thong. It took me a moment to realize that they were what she wore under her wedding dress when she walked down the aisle to me. The same wedding lingerie that I so delicately removed with my teeth in the honeymoon suite, and the same lingerie she was stuck with when her suitcase was lost on our honeymoon.
Next, she went to her side of the closet and bent at the waist to look for shoes. Black sets were tossed aside, her blood-red ‘fuck-me’ stilettos were set carefully nearby, and her white strappy sandals were evaluated before being tossed with the black ones. Then she climbed to her tiptoes to reach the shelf and pulled out the box. The box that held her pure white patent leather stilettos. The very same heels she wore to our wedding. Pulling them out, she looked them over and then nodded. She had made her selection. Then it came time for the dress.
She pulled out the new dress I bought her for our next anniversary, which was soon. Blood red, with a halter top and a short circle skirt, the dress screamed sex appeal. She shook her head and put it back. Thank goodness! Then came her long black satin gown, slit to her hip. It got an instant rejection. More relief. Some sundresses were instantly rejected, a few dresses she usually wore to work were similarly put back, and then she delved deeper into the closet, and pulled it out. It was the white satin dress she wore at our wedding rehearsal, and on the day after our wedding. She also wore it a few more times on our honeymoon, due to her missing suitcase.
The dress had a very 1950s flair to it, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a built-in bra. The waist was slimming, and the skirt had a high-waisted circle skirt, hemmed above her knees. It was a very pretty, feminine, and to me, extremely sexy dress, especially when we reached our hotel on our honeymoon. We had just exited the taxi and the on-shore breeze blew her skirt up, and let everyone see her lingerie, the same set I was looking at the minute before. She squealed, but I found it arousing as hell, and I could not wait to throw her onto the bed and ravish her. Just like I wanted to do now, but she wouldn’t let me. I had to sigh at the memory.
“Relax, Honey, you’ll get your just rewards with me when I get back. Remember, this is me getting ready for war, not for play. Play is what I get when I get back, too!”
She gave me that killer smile that melted my heart, and I could see it in her eyes. She meant it. So shortly later, with some touching up of her makeup, packing her white satin clutch to match her outfit, and the world’s briefest, softest, barely-felt kiss, she dashed out, and the last I saw her before her ‘date’ was her driving down the street.
The first few hours were bearable. She texted me that they had left for dinner, in his car, and she even managed to sneak a quick photo of him. I was not comfortable with what I saw. He was, indeed, handsome, tall, well-dressed, and looked like a solidly built man. I imagined he could have any woman he wanted, or anything, for that matter. I was having doubts now, that my wife could resist his charming appearance. Even if he was an arrogant asshole.
I made a quick dinner of microwaved leftovers and watched the baseball game, only half-concentrating on it. The rest of my brain was becoming filled with worry. I was also getting horny, thinking of how my night was going to end when my wife rushed back to my arms, and into our bed. I was growing so wanting that I debated about jerking off, to allow me some immediate relief, and to build up stamina for later. But I held off. I had a beer, along with a mindless action movie filled with too many stunts and explosions and not nearly enough plot. It took me another beer to tolerate that movie, as well. My phone pinged, with a simple thumbs-up emoji from her. Things were going well. That was around 9 PM. OK, so they were done with dinner or should be, so I imagined she should be deflating his ego about now. Or maybe she had already shredded his manhood and was on her way home? I found a show I liked and had another beer, and the next thing I knew, I heard her car chirp as she locked it with her remote. She was home!
----------------
I had dozed off on the couch, in my t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with three dead soldiers in front of me. As I rose to greet her, the door burst open, and she looked at me.
“Don’t say a fucking word!” she ordered as she stormed right past me and upstairs to our bedroom.
Still coming to full consciousness, I had to glance at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning! What the Hell?
I raced after her, my mind becoming alive with so many questions.
“Wait! You are just now getting home? Why? What happened?”
I heard the shower running as I reached our bedroom. I stopped inside the door, as she was in the middle of taking her dress off, and what I saw stopped me cold.
She looked like she had never gotten ready for the date. Her hair was a mess, tousled and probably tangled, and her makeup looked like she had smeared a sponge over her face, and that was when I first noticed it. The bruising. She had a deep purplish-red mark on her neck, below her ear, and as she turned, I saw another one on the other side, near her clavicle. As she pulled her dress up over her head, I saw the markings on her inner thighs, her crotch, and her breasts. I then belatedly realized she had no panties on, either.
“Wendy, what the Hell happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
Her voice had a different tone, a more sinister snarl. This wasn’t the growl of an angry cute kitten. This was the dark menacing voice of a lioness who was beyond pissed. I tried to press her, but she stepped in the shower and began to peel off her lingerie, washing it out as she then began to clean herself, too. I did notice she spent extra effort on trying to wash off her vaginal area. I had this sense of foreboding. Her plan must’ve gone very badly. Very, very bad.
Not knowing what else to do, I went to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. She didn’t drink it often, but there were times she would enjoy the comfort it gave her. I was carrying it up the stairs when the shower turned off. She emerged just after I entered, setting the tea on her side of the bed’s nightstand. A towel wrapped around her head, and just folding a towel around her body, she gave me a weak smile and then went for the tea. Wordlessly, she took a sip, and then a second, before daintily setting it down at her vanity as she began her nightly ablutions to go to bed. At the ripe hour of five in the morning.
“Want to talk about it now?”
“Not really.”
“Honey, this isn’t fair to me. I can see something happened. I love you, and I know we can fix whatever it is. So please… just tell me?”
Setting down the towel from her hair, she picked up her brush and began to smooth it out.
“Alright. But first, you have to promise me you won’t yell at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. It should have worked. My plan really should have worked.”
It was then I started to notice her eyes. They were beginning to brim with tears. I took her in my arms and just held her as she began to cry. In her honor, she did try to tell me, but all I heard was a tearful voice as her chest was wracked with sobs, while her face was buried on my shoulder. It took her about fifteen minutes before she could face me.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I need that again, in human words.” I ended with a genuine smile. Anything to lighten the mood.
She looked at me again, her eyes bloodshot.
“I had him right where I wanted him. Thinking he was going to get lucky. That he was going to get this marvelous piece of ass he lusted for. That was when I texted you the thumbs-up.”
I simply nodded.
“He was being a perfect gentleman so far. Minding his p’s and q’s, and with impeccable manners. I could just as well have been with you, so far. He kept reminding me of you in his gestures. He never was rude or crude at dinner or even while we went dancing.”
“Dancing? I didn’t know you were going dancing.”
“Neither did I.” She grunted. “But on the dance floor, he was being suave. A gentleman, to be sure, but I began to get the hints of his wants. The lingering touching, the gyrations that grew in intensity, and the fact he loved to spin me. I swear my skirt spent more time at my waist than it did at my knees.”
She shook her head.
“That is when I felt the booze begin to kick in. I know he didn’t ply me with a bunch of alcohol, as I only had three, but he must’ve had them made extra stiff or something. I mean, I remember everything, but I just became more relaxed with him. I was feeling good with him. That was when he asked me if I wanted to leave.”
She shook her head as I stood there, spellbound, though I felt the stirrings of an erection growing in my pajamas. It was like listening to a damsel in distress story, knowing what was coming and I could do nothing about it. Like my wife was living out her deepest and most intimate secret. Her fantasy was coming to life, and I was powerless to rescue her.
“For some reason, I said yes. I still don’t know why. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t. But I did.”
“And?”
“And so back in his car, he was driving, and he started to feel me up. At first, it was just an accidental brush against my thigh, and then more. I tried to keep removing it, but it was like he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. So, I gave up and let him feel my thigh and the satin of my dress. He kept sliding his hand up and down, my dress was sliding smoothly on my stockings, and I have to admit, it felt good. Oddly, though, I had no clue where we were going, and I didn’t think it was important to know. I remember we pulled into a parking structure and stopped on the top level. He was a gentleman as he opened the car door for me, and as I stepped out, the windy breeze caught my dress again. It had been happening most of the night, only this time I wasn’t ready for it, and he got a good look at everything. As I was trying to put my skirt back under control, that was when he did it.”
“He did what?” My heart was racing at this point, as was my boner.
“He kissed me. Long, hard, and deep. His tongue was in my mouth as I had squealed about my dress, and he was then all hands and lips. He was licking my tongue, my gums, my teeth, everything. It was like a surprise attack, and I didn’t see it coming. To be honest, he is a damn good kisser.” She paused.
“But that didn’t mean I was going to sleep with him!” she added. “I recovered myself and reached back to try and slap him. I was aiming for the side of his face, just above his jaw, and I was going to remove his head from his neck. That I show hard I wanted to hit him.”
She pursed her lips and then shook her head, her voice now softly subdued.
“That is when it happened.”
“Honey, what happened? Tell me?” I was growing alarmed.
“That was when he ***** me.”
“What?” It was now my turn to growl, like an angry lion. “Where the fuck can I find him?”
Shaking her head, she tried to dissuade me.
“Robby... look, I love you… but please... don’t even try to take some sort of revenge. I know you were an all-star in high school and were in excellent shape, but that was almost ten years ago. Believe me, I love you just the way you are, but physically, you are no match for him. Believe me, I know.”
“You saw him naked?”
She just nodded.
“But not at first. Right there on the trunk of his car, he was manhandling me like I was nothing. He has an easy six inches on me, and that is with my heels. He had me on the deck lid and was reaching under my dress, pulling at my panties as I was trying to fight my dress, and him. I resorted to begging him to stop, but he never hesitated. In the end, he had, or actually, still has, my panties.”
At the moment, I had no idea what to do. I had a warrior’s heart, with a rookie’s mind, and a raging hard-on to get rid of.
“He then hefted me over his shoulder and simply carried me to his place, like I didn’t even matter!”
One thing I loved was her great ability to be descriptive. I could imagine just about anything she explained to me easily. Only right now, I was hating the fact she had such excellent communication skills.
“I cried out for help, but I don’t think anyone either had the time to help me or cared to. Before I knew it, was in his apartment, bouncing on his bed. That was when I knew I was sunk. I was wearing a satin dress, on a satin comforter, with satin bedding. Plus, the only movement I could make was with my heels, and I kept getting a heel caught in my skirt. As I tried to escape, I couldn’t get anywhere, while he was kicking off his shoes and then diving under my dress. I tried to push him away, but he was covered by the skirt and so I had to try and endure him. I kept begging him to stop, even thrashing my legs, but he just adjusted himself to cradle my thighs with his shoulders, bending me so my vagina was at his lips. I felt his finger slide inside me, and between his massaging my G-spot and teasing my clit with his tongue, he made me climax, twice!”
Okay, so now I knew I wasn’t going to go kill this guy right now. I was too riveted to the spot by my wife’s words. I had to adjust my penis and came away with a wet spot on my underwear. I was leaking pre-cum from her travails.
“And?”
“And that was when he stripped naked, and I got to look at him all. And I do mean all, Honey, this is why I don’t want you to go after him. He’s bigger than you in every way.”
“What do you mean, ‘every way’?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it.
“Robby, my Love, he is taller than you and works out. He isn’t a body-builder type, but he is well-muscled. I could see his abs, and he had a six-pack. You lost yours when we graduated high school.”
“That’s because you are a fantastic cook and started feeding me.”
It was a long-running joke between us. It did make her smile a little.
“Thank you, Honey, but I know you are hungry for more than food right now. So please let me finish?”
I simply nodded.
“Alright, so as I lay there, trying to regain my senses, he simply climbed on top of me, lifted my arms over my head, and used his tie to bind my wrists to his headboard. After he had me helpless, he then began to slap my lips with his cock. He told me to suck it, but by then, I had recovered enough and refused. He had kissed me by surprise, but that was the last time he was going to get into my mouth! So, that is when he lifted the skirt. He didn’t try and take my clothes off, no show of decorum or propriety. He was just a predator, and he was taking what he could. He already had my panties, and I know between the orgasms and everything, I was certainly wet enough for him. He knelt between my thighs and kept them apart, while he exercised his cock, waving it at me to see it. He told me that I was going to get fucked by the biggest cock I had ever seen.”
She started blushing.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but he was right. He is bigger than you in the sex department, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you make love to me, but he has you beat by a few inches, and he sure knows how to use it.”
She hesitated, looking up at me, her gaze hoping for some form of reassurance, or even acceptance of what happened. I realized I couldn’t be mad at her for all this. I could, and would, be pissed as Hell at the situation, and at this guy, whom I belatedly realized I didn’t even have a name for, other than arrogant black ******. But I couldn’t be mad at her.
“Alright… go on.”
“So, he got all hard, and then he grabbed my ankles and stuck them on his shoulders, while he then began to put his cock inside me. He didn’t just ram it in, thank heavens, but he took the time to make me feel him. He used his cock to slide my labia open and tease my clit by slapping it with his cock some more, and as I started to be defeated, he then lined up and pushed into me. I writhed under him, crying out because it hurt, at first, but he took some pity on me and made sure I was feeling him until he gained access to my vagina. He then began to force-feed himself into me, which made my back arch and I twisted and writhed under him, but it was too late. Once he was in, which took him several thrusts, I felt him even beyond what I thought I could.”
By now, I was so hard I could have used my dick as a hammer, but I had to let her continue.
“Once he began to thrust in me, I was done for. I couldn’t do anything. He shifted his arms, and made my knees fall over his elbows as he curled his knees up under my hips, and cradled my body in his, making me feel every fraction of him as he fucked me. It took me a minute or so to remember that I was not on the pill, and so I begged him to pull out, and not to make me get pregnant with his child, but that just seemed to spur him on. He then began to control me with his cock, using his thrusts and his pelvis to grind against my pearl and to make my voice cry out. That is when he was able to kiss me again. He was lewd about it, and between his cock in me and his tongue, I gave in. I had no more fight left in me and I surrendered to him.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, Honey, I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t do it. I thought I was stronger than him, but I am just not. He destroyed me and took what he wanted. I am so sorry, Robby. I love you!”
Her face buried in my chest some more as she cried, and I did the only human thing I could, which was to hug her and soothe her. I love my wife, and at that moment, I still wasn’t angry with her. I couldn’t be. I kissed her hair and held her, trying to shush away her tears. All the while I had this almost painful erection. I was going to need relief soon, or I was just going to climax myself by listening to her!
“Are you ready, Sweetheart?” I finally asked.
She sniffled back some runaway snot.
“Yeah, I’m sorry…” she wiped away some tears and continued.
“So, he and I had sex. I won’t call it making love, because I don’t love him, but we had sex. Yes, that also means we kissed. Heavily and passionately. He gave me two more orgasms, which just was wearing me out. But he had me for everything I had in me to give” She hesitated. “That includes my womb. He climaxed and came in me, and after he had cum inside me, he stayed on top of me, lifted my legs back to his shoulders, and used his fingers on my clit to make me orgasm again.”
I had to take a deep breath. This truly was the ultimate damsel in distress defeated fantasy she lived out. It was making me wonder if she didn’t fight him off all that hard.
“That explains all of your hickeys and bruises.”
She took a deep breath.
“Yeah, he got pretty rough with me every time.”
“Every time? What do you mean?”
“Honey, after he was done, he rested and left me tied up. He was touching me, and kissing me, and when he was ready, he had me again. Somewhere in the second time, he released my arms, and yeah…I responded to him more passionately. I even fell asleep in his arms after the third time. I only awoke when he was spreading my legs for the last time. After that, he took me to the office and let me come home. He fucked me, and I fucked him back, however, you want to put it, but my plan failed miserably. He turned me into his bitch last night.”
More tears came as her disappointment with herself became evident. She hadn’t just let me down; she had let herself down. I didn’t know women could make so many tears. But finally, she yawned, and I noticed that the sun was coming up.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you in bed. We need to sleep, and maybe I can try and reclaim my wife?” I asked rather hopefully. My hard-on was aching.
She wordlessly headed to the bed, dropping her remaining towel on the floor before she climbed under our sheets, naked. I hopped around to the other side, diving in, pulling down my pajamas and jockeys. Pulling my manhood out, I began to make my moves on her, but she turned over.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but I can’t. I have a date with him tomorrow night.”
My Wife's Dating Troubles- Ch. 2
Author’s Note: When I received the positive feedback after posting the first chapter, I must admit I was surprised. In my mind, I don’t think the story was very good, mainly because I couldn’t identify with it, I guess. However, having received nothing but positive reinforcement, I thought I would give it another chance, and see what happens.
Please note that this chapter is a re-post as an added chapter to the original chapter, in keeping with website policies. Chapter 3 will follow immediately.
So here is Chapter 2. What will befall Robby, Wendy and the unknown black lover dating the formerly-loyal white wife?
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The next day, or shall I say, later that day, I was up far earlier than Wendy was. I had a good six or so hours before my wife arrived back home, and I certainly had not had the exercise she had throughout the night. The truth of the matter was that I was having a hard time thinking about anything other than my wife being forced into sex with her black co-worker. Then she found herself submitting to her basest desires and submitted to him and had what could only be termed consensual sex. She denied that she made love to him, admitting only that he fucked her, and she fucked him back with equal fervor. There were a lot of confusing thoughts in my head.
What happened? She admitted he felt her up publicly and then tied her down onto his bed and ravished her fully. He held her captive through the second encounter that same night, where she caved in and gave herself to him as he took her. Her descriptions failed to do it justice in my mind’s eye, and I could envision her lewdly kissing the man as well as begging him to make her climax, as he filled her with his potent black seed. I knew neither of them used birth control, either. This was particularly troubling. If he had successfully planted his child in her, what would we do? What would she do? My mind was all set for abortion. The math was simple. No wife of mine was going to bear the child of a man who ***** her. But then she gave herself to him. What did that mean? Was it ****? Was it not, but more of a forced seduction, no different than plying a woman with too much alcohol and letting nature take over?
I knew she had fantasies. Those damsel in distress things where she was ultimately forced to suffer that fate worse than death. It got her off, and only made it hotter to her when someone she despised defeated her. She liked it when the villain won! That brought back a memory of when we had been dating for about four months and had become monogamous to each other. We had gone to a Halloween party and I dressed as Batman and she as my partner in crime, Batgirl. I had to admit she looked stunning in her figure-fitting costume. Her full breasts and bubble ass did wonders, and the cape and cowl added just the right amount of mystery. Of course, people knew who we were, as we had entered together.
But as time went on and we socialized both together and apart, I realized at one point it had been too long since I had last seen Wendy, and so I went looking for her. I looked into every room, and even found a couple having sex. Whether they were related or not, I still don’t know, and frankly, I didn’t care then, or now. My focus was on my then-serious girlfriend. I had begun to look outside and checked first to see if she might be at our car down the street, but no dice, and she wasn’t nearby, either. So, making my way back, I heard the undeniable sounds of a man and a woman. It actually sounded like they had an audience. I hurriedly made my way to where I thought they were, brushing aside a couple of people who wanted to talk, and exited the house into the backyard. It took me a second to get my bearings until I heard them off to my right. Making a bee-line, that was when I found them. There were maybe a dozen people there, most just watching as two feet were on the ground, with the two in the air instantly recognizable. I bulldozed my way through, and had to stop, shocked at what I saw.
Wendy was on the ground, flat on her back, with her legs in the air, and her arms held over her head by two guys, one a pirate and the other a very poorly costumed skeleton. A third man was between her legs, laying on her and humping her for all he was worth, with his hands holding her knees bent over his arms as he lay atop her. With his costume below his ass, I knew he had to be fucking her, and I took that moment to blow my lid and grab the guy, giving him an elbow in the face and then a solid kick at his shin. He cried out, and the two others suddenly looked up to see a very angry Batman standing there, with fists tight and advancing with a death-stare in his eyes. They took discretion as the better part of valor and scrambled away from me, and managed to leave before I caught up with them. That was when I got to see Wendy sprawled on the ground, her cape carefully laid out under her, and her costume still covering her fully. I reached down and grabbed her by both wrists and positively yanked her to her heeled boots and glared at her.
“What the actual fuck is going on? Were they trying to **** you?”
My voice was full of fury and anger, and I didn’t notice that the others had slipped away quietly.
Wendy looked down, and she took a ragged, deep breath.
“Sorta’.”
“What do you mean, ‘sorta’? There are no half-measures here. It is like getting a circumcision. Either go all the way or fucking forget it!”
She finally looked up to me and met my eyes. I could see some sadness, and even some fear. She had never seen me raging-angry before, but this was the right time to be angry. I just didn’t know who to be angry at, yet.
“Look… Robby… It started as…” She winced a little. “Would you please release me? You’re hurting my wrists.”
I was so angry I had lost track of what I was doing. Releasing my grasp on her wrists, I took my own deep breaths to calm down.
“Alright... tell me what happened.”
She took her own deep breath and re-started her explanation.
“It started out as just a conversation. Me, and maybe four other guys, and girls kept coming and going. I stepped outside because the costume was making me hot. I just wanted to cool off before going back inside.”
She paused, to see how I was taking this, and so far, my expression was neutral, I didn’t have enough to go on, yet.
“So, we were talking, and guys were complimenting me on my costume, and feeling my cape and all that, I think it is because secretly guys like satin, but they don’t want to admit it. Like it is too girly or something. Anyways, so the talk went from costumes to the party and to sex. Guys wanted to know how attached I am to you, and were we getting married and all that, and were we doing it. They also wanted to know how good you are.”
She paused, blushing. The back of my mind was both curious and frightened of what she told them. Did she think I was a bad lover? We had made love a number of times, but she never really said anything, other than to smile as we both gasped for air after. I do know for certain that she had orgasmed, one way or the other, but not always with my manhood in her.
“I told them I loved having sex with you and that we would explore more of it as we got closer together. I think that is what opened the door to the fantasies.”
“This ought to be good. Go on.” My voice had a hint of sarcasm to it.
I had hopes of learning more about my hope-to-be future wife, if we survived this pitfall.
“So, they were talking about how they hated having to be all prim and proper, and a couple of guys were claiming how good they are, and how I would never forget them, you know, the usual stupid-guy crap. Then they got to talking about how hot it would be to see Batgirl defeated instead of always being rescued at the last minute. I agreed with them and the next thing I know, I was flat on my back and being treated like Batgirl was going to finally become a victim to a supervillain, like The Joker or someone. That’s when things truly got out of hand. I was okay with them holding my hands down, but when the one guy, I think his name is Brett? Anyways, so he hopped on top of me and started humping at me with his clothes on. I thought I still had this under control, and so I wasn’t screaming or anything, but I was playing into it, struggling, moaning, and grunting. I have to admit, it was making me hot. That is when things got out of hand.”
I looked at her, and then looked around. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and the party had quieted down. I think after the incident, a lot of people had fled.
“So, what happened? I want to hear every detail.”
Part of me was getting really aroused, as I had always found Batgirl to be hot as a little kid, and I had planned on finding a way to have her myself tonight. But now, I wasn’t so sure.
“So, I think I said something first, or they did, well one of them anyways, and I was begging them not to **** me. That was when Brett began to pull down his costume and was humping me for real. He was trying to find the Velcro opening at the crotch, so he could actually put his dick in me, when you showed up. If you had been two more minutes, I think I would have been done for.”
She leaned in and wrapped her arms around my waist as she laid her head on my chest. She started to sob a little.
“Robby, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I never want to hurt you. I know you are furious, and I get that. But please don’t leave me?”
Okay, she pulled out the waterworks, and that was the tool of my undoing. I wrapped her in my arms and held her. Not long after, we had made our way home and she was out of her costume so fast I think there was a sonic boom. So much for a bit of fetish sex.
--------------------
I was stirred from my reverie by her voice as she came down the stairs, nude and displaying her bruised body in all of its glory.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m okay, maybe a little stiff. But I need to know. Are you okay?”
What she was really asking was if we were okay. It took me a second to take stock, realizing I did have an erection in my pajama bottoms, thinking of the Batgirl scene.
“Yeah, we’re okay. But come Monday, if you aren’t going to HR, you best understand that I am.”
She nodded to me.
“I know. I promise, I’ll handle it. I feel pretty awful about what happened.”
“What, that he ***** you?”
She pursed her lips.
“Yeah, a little. But what is bothering me so much is how good he was. I’m so sorry, Honey, but when he was born, they broke the mold on how to fuck a woman. Because he sure conquered me.”
With her words, what little hardness I had in my dick evaporated instantly.
“So why are you going back to him tonight?”
“Because, in the middle of everything, I was so desperate to orgasm that he made me agree to it. To promise him I would meet him. You know how you have teased me so much that I gave in and let you buy the new tool set you wanted. Well, he did that to me. With my hands tied, and his cock in me, and destroying my will, I gave in. I had nothing left to beat him with.” She then hesitated.
“Besides, it is the only way I can get my panties back.”
I sat there, looking at her for several moments. It was then I realized what was going on. Intentionally or not, her words revealed she was living out her deepest, darkest fantasy. The one I could not give her. Batgirl was being defeated and defiled. She was finally suffering her fate worse than death and getting off on it. So, it was simple for her to agree to more. It gave her more of her fantasy. Yet I had no response to it, nothing I could offer her, to save her, simply because she did not want to be saved.
“You hungry?”
“Yes, please?”
So, I went about making her something to eat, and we sat down, silently, as she ate, and contemplated our immediate future.
After another short nap, this time with her snuggled up to me on the couch as I watched the game on TV, she stirred and realized she needed to get ready. She emerged from the blanket covering us as she rose and padded her nude body upstairs. In short order I heard the shower running. I decided the best thing to do this time was not to watch her get dressed. I needed more of this torture like I needed a nail gun in my scrotum. She came down about ninety minutes later, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
She was the opposite of last night. She had her hair up, heavier and darker makeup with blood-red glossy lipstick and smokey-eyes. Her dress was that black satin halter number, with a high waisted, flared skirt and the hemline came down to maybe two inches below her ass. I had seen the dress once before, perhaps last year, but I could never talk her into wearing it. But the amount of cleavage and side-boob it revealed was bordering on scandalous. Her legs were bare and smooth, and while she didn’t show me, I had little doubt she wasn’t wearing panties. The 4-inch black-patent leather stilettos she wore completed the ensemble. I was getting an erection just looking at her. I could not let out a whistle as I was almost drooling.
I rose to collect her in my arms, to hug her, but with a sneaky plan to just throw her down and have her myself, but she used her dainty hand’s blood-red and sharp nails to stop me cold. Her clutching grasp when she reached inside my pajama bottoms and grabbed my nuts in a no-nonsense grip.
“Down, boy.” Her tone was serious. “I know you want me, and I promise when this is all over with, I will do right by you. But like I would do for you, I have to look my best. Even if I know it will be dangerous. Just trust me, that no matter what, I am coming home to you, because I love you!”
My plan thwarted, I simply shared that I loved her too, and she then gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and released my scrotum. She then grabbed her small purse and was out the door, leaving me home alone to fret and worry, and deal with the humiliation she was heaping on me by doing this for another man, even denying me her bare vagina. She was giving it to him and letting him cum in her without anything to hinder nature. I had some more serious misgivings, now. She was going to get laid tonight. I, on the other hand, was just going to risk friction burns.
That night took forever. In my head, all I could envision was my Wendy in the arms of another man, a total stranger who was evidently quite skilled as a lover, and was having unprotected sex with my wife, with nothing to hinder the biological results. The scene behind my eyes was getting more and more detailed, to the very sperm that the black man was ejaculating into my wife, and his seeds swimming upstream to attack her white woman’s egg, and defeat its natural defenses, until her egg was fertilized, and was nestling into her uterus, and begin making nature’s greatest gift, a child. Except it wasn’t my child. That part was both erotic and yet terrifying. I found myself getting relief from my friend Rosey and her five compatriots. A total of three times. That was a record for me. Between the relaxation each episode gave, and the more booze I started drinking, I drifted off to an uneasy sleep. I expected her late, maybe even one or two in the morning.
The next time I saw her was just before noon the next day.
I had texted her when I woke up, but never received a reply. Then I texted her again several more times. Finally unable to cope, I called her, but her phone just went to voice mail. Despite everything I had to contact her, I just faced a blank wall. I sat there stewing, frustrated and at a loss when the sound of her car announced her return, and I peeked out of the window to see her make the ultimate walk of shame up to our front door. I was seething by now, and I didn’t bother to even unlock it for her. When she came in, she saw me scowling with a total-warfare frown.
“Honey. I can’t even explain. I did get my panties back…” she paused to filch them out of her small purse and drop them at my feet. “But I am in trouble.”
I stood there for a moment, looking at her as she looked at me. For someone in trouble, it didn’t look very troubling. In fact, she looked like she had just spent the night doing battle with an octopus who used its suction cups to mark every area I could see. Her neck, her chest, her breasts, and even inside her thighs all had marks and bruises. Even more so than the night before. Her perfectly made French swirl was completely undone, and her normally brushed hair liked like she had been in a wind tunnel. There was nothing left of her lipstick, and the rest of her makeup looked awful. She also smelled. The scent of sweat, faded perfume and semen was clouding all over her.
“In ways you can’t even imagine.” was my own stark and cold reply.
She didn’t try and respond to that, but she moved past me, giving me plenty of space as she then went to take a shower. While I waited, I went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. The first was gone while she was still showering, and the second was half-way drained when she came out to the kitchen, wearing just her terrycloth robe and slippers. I just watched her and said nothing as she hesitated, and then went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. Without speaking, she placed them between us and filled each with a shot of reposado. Lifting her glass, she toasted me and downed her shot like a pro. Then then did the same to a second. All the while, I just looked at her, my face frozen.
I was holding back a mix of emotions. Relief that my wife was finally safe at home, anguish that my wife had betrayed me and betrayed our marriage again, frustration at her apparent lack of willingness to end this, and anger at being treated as a second-class citizen in all of this. I was her fucking husband, for Christ’s sake! My shot sat there as I continued to drain my beer. All the while, my eyes looked at her. She may have gotten the very fuck of her life, while fulfilling whatever fantasies her black lover had, yet at the same time she was denying mine right to my face. The only way it could become more humiliating is if she had done it to me in front of him! Or done it to him, right in front of me? Whatever it was, I was so furious, I couldn’t even think straight!
“Alright. Go ahead. Yell at me, scream at me, curse me if you want. Hell, if you want to slap me around, it’s okay, I guess. I deserve it. I deserve your anger. I have hurt you in more ways than I think I can count. I can only beg you not to leave me. But I can’t blame you if you do.”
Her words had broken the ice, and unfortunately, I was not fully in control of my fury.
“First of all, you ALWAYS fucking answer my call! I don’t care what the fuck is going on in your life, when I call, you answer. I have been sitting here scared, angry, insulted and fucking hurt of the fact you would not take my call, and you never once thought I was important enough to be graced with your presence! I don’t know who in the fuck you think I am, but we pledged our lives to each other, and we promised each other we would never ignore the other, and here you have done that to me! For all fucking night!”
I had risen to my feet, and my hands were curled into fists as I towered over her. I think this is when she realized the gravity of her actions. Not just last night, but even the first night, when she thought she was big enough to break his ego. She was actually cowering in her chair, and her fingers were trembling as she reached out and downed a third shot. She would have to stop, or she would be shit-faced and stupid before I finished venting. She made the effort to try and pour herself another shot, but I reached out and took the bottle from her.
“You will goddamn hear me out, you cheating bitch, and you will fix this and find a way to make me happy. Me. Your fucking husband, remember? The man you swore an oath to? The man you told he held your heart in his hands, and he told you the same damned thing, only you have managed to squeeze the fucking life out of it? How the fuck could you do this to me? How could you treat me like this?”
My rant went on, probably for a good ten minutes of one-way ass-chewing. Yet she never looked away, she never tried to whine her way out of it. She took it like an adult, to the point she sat there looking up to me and started to cry. Her tears leaked from her eyes, and her lip started to quiver, but she was doing her best to take my verbal barrage. But her spine never faltered. Not with me, at any rate. But I never bothered to think of how her spine had snapped to his will. Her black lover’s potential for dominance. But it obviously had, for her body displayed ample evidence of it.
“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.” Her tears were running freely now. “You are right, right to yell at me and right about everything. I am in over my head, and I can’t get out. I don’t know what to do!”
She said some more words, which at this point were largely unintelligible. Her chest was heaving as her body was wracked with sobs, and I was left feeling a mixture of anger, and yet sadness, not to mention a little guilt. My mind was also working on the options. Do I kick her ass out and file for divorce? Do I find a way to reconcile with her? Do I solve her problem for her? Do I let her continue to try and solve it for herself, regardless of the consequences? Do I just let her continue with this affair and let her turn me into a cuckold against my will? None of these options sounded very appealing. Because at the end of the day, I was still the one with all of the emotional injuries, jealousies, humiliations and insults, not to mention being left without a wife to love, honor and cherish me. Not to mention my own sexual desires and fantasies were still un-served. OK, that was going to be part of a solution, perhaps. She would be fulfilling every one of my sexual fantasies I could think of. As I considered all of this, her tears started to dry up.
“First of all, you will tell me everything, and answer every question I have, completely and without any exclusion or omission. Fail me even once and you will be finding a new place to live within an hour.” My voice was menacing, not requesting.
She simply nodded.
“Alright, you will first of all write down his name and contact information. I want to know everything there is to know about this asshole, including his DNA sequence. I am no longer fucking around. It is time for him to find out.”
She took the notepad and pen I slid to her and began writing. She then went to her phone and brought it back, documenting all of his contact details. When she was done, I took the paper and used my phone to snap a picture of it. Then I slid it back to her.
“Now. You will be going to your HR department first thing tomorrow morning. You will not go to your desk, you will not go pee. You will definitely not give whatever his name is… let’s see here…” I looked at the note pad, “uhh, Du’shaun… You will not give him a warning. While you are doing this, I will be attending to this matter in my preferred method. On Tuesday, he will be served with a lawsuit, and he will be charged with ****** you. Officers will go hunt his black ass down, and lock him up, where the rest of the world is safe from predators like him. Once he is safely prohibited from any more contact with him, you and I will determine our next steps. One of them will be to a doctor, to see about your getting an abortion, or whatever it is we need to make sure you are not having his baby.”
I sat back, to evaluate how she was taking this bit of direction. At the moment, I was not treating her as my wife, but as a junior employee who had mis-stepped badly. I wanted to make sure I had her full and un-divided attention and focus. Eying her, she sat there, and I could see from the look in her eyes and the look on her face she understood I was very, very angry, and incredibly disappointed in her. She had played her imaginary game and been defeated, only now with very real consequences. She nodded softly.
“I understand, and I promise to do everything you said. I won’t screw this up. I already know I screwed up badly, and I don’t want to make this any worse.”
I nodded.
“Fine. Now, tell me everything that happened, in order. No dancing around, just tell me the facts.”
She nodded and then rose, going to the refrigerator and bringing out two sodas, one for her, and one for me. She even took the extra step to open it for me. It wasn’t a big thing, in itself, but it was an act of contrition and courtesy. She was trying to show me she understood her place in our marriage right now.
“So. I met Du’ Shaun at a nightclub. He had a booth for us, and so we ate some finger food and chatted a bit. It was then that I told him I needed my panties back, and that it wasn’t an option. After I told him that, he then said he wanted another pair in exchange, and I told him he could have the panties I was wearing, but he would have to take them. He had dangled my panties out in front of me on the table, for everyone to see. From the laughter and comments, I know several people were looking. But I wasn’t about to let him think I was removing my panties for him, anymore”
I looked at her like it was a statement that wouldn’t make any sense no matter how she explained it.
“Umm, that is how guys think, Wendy. I know I sure don’t. If a girl showed up without underwear, I know she wanting to get laid. She also probably isn’t very choosy about who does it.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, so I learned. I mean, when I did it with you, I knew I loved you and wanted you to get the message. I just wasn’t thinking straight. Getting my panties back meant everything, because I knew how upset you were when I came home without them. But he reached the same conclusion you just did when he reached under my dress and felt me up.” She ended with a soft snort.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just the way he was surprised. He tried not to show it, but his hand suddenly lost any sense of grace, and he started pawing at my crotch and then my hips to verify what his fingers were telling him. For a long moment, he went from being that suave ladies’ man to a teenager on his first date. I was actually starting to laugh when he shut me down by taking his finger and starting to probe my vagina. That made me gasp, and my fingers were suddenly gripping the table out of sheer pleasure. I don’t know why, but his humiliating me like that in such a public setting was turning me on, and I was already well-ready for him. Well, him or any man, actually.”
I looked at her, while feeling my own erection beginning to grow. I was confused in my own way. I wanted my wife to be my woman, yet listening to her describe how she was defiled was also pretty arousing, and in my mind’s eye, I could see my damsel in distress faltering.
“Alright. Go on.”
“So he continued to tease me with his finger, until I was nearly ready to explode. That was when he leaned over and kissed me. Not the sweet kind of gentlemanly kiss, but the deep, passionate kiss like he was devouring me. I couldn’t help it, Robby, honest, but that was when I was done for. He threw some money on the table and damn-near dragged me out of the place, even making me forget my purse. While we were waiting for the valet, I realized I had forgotten my purse, so I hurried back inside to get it, only I couldn’t find it right away. I looked on both sides of the booth, and I was getting frustrated, until I realized I had to look on the floor. So, I put one knee on the bench and bent over, knowing I would be giving at least someone a good look up my dress as I fumbled around, but my fingers finally found it and as I rose, I got a smattering of applause from a few guys. It was so embarrassing!”
I let out an involuntary snort. That is what embarrassed her? Showing her pussy to the room? Not getting finger-fucked in front of these very same people?
“What?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
“Anyways, so I made it out to the car, and stood with Du'Shuan and let him grope me under my skirt while we waited. I could feel people looking at us as they went by, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to make him stop.”
“Saying ‘no’ might have helped.” I grunted.
She nodded, looking chagrined.
“I know. I’m sorry.” After a short pause, she continued. “Are you really sure you want to hear this?”
For reasons I don’t understand, my cock was getting rock-solid, but I kept my voice even. Hard-on or not, I was still upset.
“Yes. I told you. This is all or nothing for you. Deal with it.”
She gulped nervously, and I could see her eyes starting to well up a little. The magnitude of the trouble she was in with me was still dawning on her.
“Alright. So, he drove us downtown, and once we parked, we headed into the Excelsior, and to the rooftop club. Once we got there, he managed to get us a spot on the rails, and he made me hold onto the railing with both hands and told me not to let go. He made me stand there alone while he went to get us drinks, all the while it was pretty windy up there, and my skirt was blowing all around. I heard some guys snickering, and two guys offered me money to go to their room with them, like I was some sort of high-dollar prostitute. As we talked, one of them stood on each side and began feeling my ass! I was confused as to how to respond, politely or with the frustration I felt, but decided I should best be polite because I didn’t want to create a commotion, and so I told them no with a smile. They were trying to negotiate with me when Du’Shaun returned. He asked them what they were doing, and they told him they wanted to hire his whore!”
My mind’s eye could imagine her, and it had been one of my own fantasies to see her like this. So, I was growing more interested, and at the same time, hurt more.
“And?”
“And so, he joked with them, and told them I could be theirs for a grand each for one hour, and they both agreed! I was so shocked I couldn’t even speak! But they both started to try and collect me, and try to take me with them, and that was when Du’Shaun made it clear he was joking and that I was his for the night. They had some more serious discussion, as both guys seemed to really want to get laid, and I was terrified that Du’Shaun was really going to pimp me out. The money was up to $2500 for the hour, and I was so shocked that I couldn’t even speak. He was even playing up the pimp-role a little, asking what room it was and so on. It was all I could do to just look out over the city and try and maintain some sort of dignity.”
She was growing exasperated as she spoke. It seemed he had really upset her at that point. Wendy may have had fantasies, but selling herself wasn’t one of them. Taking a drink of her soda, she then continued, as I adjusted myself in my pants. My erection was raging.
“I finally wound up with just him behind me, and his pelvis pressing at my butt as he gave me tiny little thrusts, while his hands reached around and were reaching inside my dress to grope my boobs, or reach under my skirt, all the while people were around us. I looked back over my shoulder at him, and before I could say a word, he was kissing me again, which was only adding to making me so horny. Every time I began to get louder, he would kiss me to keep my voice quiet. Pretty soon, we were just making out. Between the drinks and the teasing, I was just about ready to explode, and he was just keeping me right at the very peak, without finishing me off. All the while, my hands were still holding onto the railing. Every time I tried to pull my hands off, he put them back on there. We stayed like that for maybe forty-five minutes. It was pure torture!”
“Sounds like it.” Was my non-committal response.
“He finally decided enough was enough and he then led me to the elevator, where we were going to a room he had already reserved. Once we got to the floor, he showed me to the end of the hall, and at his door, he pushed me against it and he then pulled my hips back and he didn’t even bother with any niceties. He just fucked me right there and then! In plain sight of anyone! Thank heavens nobody came along, but by then it was pushing past midnight. It was one position we had never been in, and his legs are longer, so once he had finally gotten his cock inside me, he lifted me by my hips and held me up, my feet just dangling there as he fucked me, making me helpless all over again. I tried to protest, to kick my legs, even, but it just wasn’t working. He might have well as tied me up like that. Or even ***** me on the rooftop. I was just as helpless. But this time, he couldn’t keep me quiet, and as I screamed with my orgasm, he damn-near shoved me through the door before somebody came out to see what the problem was.”
I had to take a deep breath here, as my cock was screaming at me as well, for the images her descriptions were creating were now creating a small wetness in my underwear. I fervently hoped the spot could not be seen by my wife.
“So, then what?”
She shrugged.
“Much as you might imagine, he threw me on the bed and got on me again, only like before, he did his bed to nail me to the bed. Like before, he not only shot his load in me, but he also held my legs up and fingered my clit until I orgasmed again.”
She shook her head.
“I swear, it was like he was doing everything in his power to get me pregnant.”
“Oh, you think so?” My voice was rather irritated by this ‘startling revelation’ of hers.
She shook her head again.
“I know. I know. I am so sorry, Honey. So, to finish your original question, he made love to me three more times that night. I didn’t get to sleep until around 6:00 AM. That is why I couldn’t respond to you. I was either in his clutches, or asleep. I wasn’t ignoring you. I just couldn’t physically answer you. I’m sorry!”
I sat back and looked at her for along moment, and then took a deep swig of my soda as I looked out the window.
“So, what about us? Where do we go from here?”
There was silence in the response.
“Wendy? I asked you a question.”
“I know. I’m afraid to answer it. Because in none of these answers do I feel that great. I know I hurt you, and I feel terrible. I feel guilty, I feel ashamed, and I feel just awful all around. I’m afraid. I am afraid of what you will decide, and I am afraid for what may happen.”
“And what do you see might happen?”
“Well, the very best case is I don’t get pregnant, you forgive me, and I make it up to you.”
I gave a half shrug. Again, I was very non-committal, though I have to admit, she was being pretty open from what I could tell.
“The second is I get pregnant, have an abortion, and we reconcile. The third is I get pregnant, and keep the baby, and things get ugly between us. Everything from here on down is just not good, and it is just breaking my heart. I so fucked up, Robby. I am so sorry!”
Again, came the tears. I had the impression that if there was a way to capture women’s tears, we could end a world-drought in about a week.
“Aright. Just know this, starting right here and now. You are done with him, right here, right now, and you have to do some serious ass-kissing. My ass, to be specific. You are now going to be the picture-perfect wife I want. What I want, how I want, and the rest. You will be my arm-candy, even if we are just going to the store. You will do everything in your power to please me. Once we know if you are pregnant or not, then we’ll see what happens next. So, get ready, because you are going to spend all day and night taking my cock. One way or another.”
She paused, and then she nodded, but asked something in a meek voice.
“May I ask this one kindness from you?”
“What is it?”
“I... I just can’t risk you getting me pregnant. If you ejaculate inside me, I won’t be able to have an abortion, because I refuse to terminate your child. That is just too important to me. I’ll give you the best blow-jobs known to humans, and you can have my butt. But please, I am asking you, leave my vagina alone?”
I had to sit there for a long moment and contemplate it. I didn’t like it, but she had a point.
“Alright. Go get ready. I’ve been waiting all weekend.”
That was how we spent the rest of the day, until Monday came around….
Please note that this chapter is a re-post as an added chapter to the original chapter, in keeping with website policies. Chapter 3 will follow immediately.
So here is Chapter 2. What will befall Robby, Wendy and the unknown black lover dating the formerly-loyal white wife?
-----------------------------
The next day, or shall I say, later that day, I was up far earlier than Wendy was. I had a good six or so hours before my wife arrived back home, and I certainly had not had the exercise she had throughout the night. The truth of the matter was that I was having a hard time thinking about anything other than my wife being forced into sex with her black co-worker. Then she found herself submitting to her basest desires and submitted to him and had what could only be termed consensual sex. She denied that she made love to him, admitting only that he fucked her, and she fucked him back with equal fervor. There were a lot of confusing thoughts in my head.
What happened? She admitted he felt her up publicly and then tied her down onto his bed and ravished her fully. He held her captive through the second encounter that same night, where she caved in and gave herself to him as he took her. Her descriptions failed to do it justice in my mind’s eye, and I could envision her lewdly kissing the man as well as begging him to make her climax, as he filled her with his potent black seed. I knew neither of them used birth control, either. This was particularly troubling. If he had successfully planted his child in her, what would we do? What would she do? My mind was all set for abortion. The math was simple. No wife of mine was going to bear the child of a man who ***** her. But then she gave herself to him. What did that mean? Was it ****? Was it not, but more of a forced seduction, no different than plying a woman with too much alcohol and letting nature take over?
I knew she had fantasies. Those damsel in distress things where she was ultimately forced to suffer that fate worse than death. It got her off, and only made it hotter to her when someone she despised defeated her. She liked it when the villain won! That brought back a memory of when we had been dating for about four months and had become monogamous to each other. We had gone to a Halloween party and I dressed as Batman and she as my partner in crime, Batgirl. I had to admit she looked stunning in her figure-fitting costume. Her full breasts and bubble ass did wonders, and the cape and cowl added just the right amount of mystery. Of course, people knew who we were, as we had entered together.
But as time went on and we socialized both together and apart, I realized at one point it had been too long since I had last seen Wendy, and so I went looking for her. I looked into every room, and even found a couple having sex. Whether they were related or not, I still don’t know, and frankly, I didn’t care then, or now. My focus was on my then-serious girlfriend. I had begun to look outside and checked first to see if she might be at our car down the street, but no dice, and she wasn’t nearby, either. So, making my way back, I heard the undeniable sounds of a man and a woman. It actually sounded like they had an audience. I hurriedly made my way to where I thought they were, brushing aside a couple of people who wanted to talk, and exited the house into the backyard. It took me a second to get my bearings until I heard them off to my right. Making a bee-line, that was when I found them. There were maybe a dozen people there, most just watching as two feet were on the ground, with the two in the air instantly recognizable. I bulldozed my way through, and had to stop, shocked at what I saw.
Wendy was on the ground, flat on her back, with her legs in the air, and her arms held over her head by two guys, one a pirate and the other a very poorly costumed skeleton. A third man was between her legs, laying on her and humping her for all he was worth, with his hands holding her knees bent over his arms as he lay atop her. With his costume below his ass, I knew he had to be fucking her, and I took that moment to blow my lid and grab the guy, giving him an elbow in the face and then a solid kick at his shin. He cried out, and the two others suddenly looked up to see a very angry Batman standing there, with fists tight and advancing with a death-stare in his eyes. They took discretion as the better part of valor and scrambled away from me, and managed to leave before I caught up with them. That was when I got to see Wendy sprawled on the ground, her cape carefully laid out under her, and her costume still covering her fully. I reached down and grabbed her by both wrists and positively yanked her to her heeled boots and glared at her.
“What the actual fuck is going on? Were they trying to **** you?”
My voice was full of fury and anger, and I didn’t notice that the others had slipped away quietly.
Wendy looked down, and she took a ragged, deep breath.
“Sorta’.”
“What do you mean, ‘sorta’? There are no half-measures here. It is like getting a circumcision. Either go all the way or fucking forget it!”
She finally looked up to me and met my eyes. I could see some sadness, and even some fear. She had never seen me raging-angry before, but this was the right time to be angry. I just didn’t know who to be angry at, yet.
“Look… Robby… It started as…” She winced a little. “Would you please release me? You’re hurting my wrists.”
I was so angry I had lost track of what I was doing. Releasing my grasp on her wrists, I took my own deep breaths to calm down.
“Alright... tell me what happened.”
She took her own deep breath and re-started her explanation.
“It started out as just a conversation. Me, and maybe four other guys, and girls kept coming and going. I stepped outside because the costume was making me hot. I just wanted to cool off before going back inside.”
She paused, to see how I was taking this, and so far, my expression was neutral, I didn’t have enough to go on, yet.
“So, we were talking, and guys were complimenting me on my costume, and feeling my cape and all that, I think it is because secretly guys like satin, but they don’t want to admit it. Like it is too girly or something. Anyways, so the talk went from costumes to the party and to sex. Guys wanted to know how attached I am to you, and were we getting married and all that, and were we doing it. They also wanted to know how good you are.”
She paused, blushing. The back of my mind was both curious and frightened of what she told them. Did she think I was a bad lover? We had made love a number of times, but she never really said anything, other than to smile as we both gasped for air after. I do know for certain that she had orgasmed, one way or the other, but not always with my manhood in her.
“I told them I loved having sex with you and that we would explore more of it as we got closer together. I think that is what opened the door to the fantasies.”
“This ought to be good. Go on.” My voice had a hint of sarcasm to it.
I had hopes of learning more about my hope-to-be future wife, if we survived this pitfall.
“So, they were talking about how they hated having to be all prim and proper, and a couple of guys were claiming how good they are, and how I would never forget them, you know, the usual stupid-guy crap. Then they got to talking about how hot it would be to see Batgirl defeated instead of always being rescued at the last minute. I agreed with them and the next thing I know, I was flat on my back and being treated like Batgirl was going to finally become a victim to a supervillain, like The Joker or someone. That’s when things truly got out of hand. I was okay with them holding my hands down, but when the one guy, I think his name is Brett? Anyways, so he hopped on top of me and started humping at me with his clothes on. I thought I still had this under control, and so I wasn’t screaming or anything, but I was playing into it, struggling, moaning, and grunting. I have to admit, it was making me hot. That is when things got out of hand.”
I looked at her, and then looked around. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and the party had quieted down. I think after the incident, a lot of people had fled.
“So, what happened? I want to hear every detail.”
Part of me was getting really aroused, as I had always found Batgirl to be hot as a little kid, and I had planned on finding a way to have her myself tonight. But now, I wasn’t so sure.
“So, I think I said something first, or they did, well one of them anyways, and I was begging them not to **** me. That was when Brett began to pull down his costume and was humping me for real. He was trying to find the Velcro opening at the crotch, so he could actually put his dick in me, when you showed up. If you had been two more minutes, I think I would have been done for.”
She leaned in and wrapped her arms around my waist as she laid her head on my chest. She started to sob a little.
“Robby, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I never want to hurt you. I know you are furious, and I get that. But please don’t leave me?”
Okay, she pulled out the waterworks, and that was the tool of my undoing. I wrapped her in my arms and held her. Not long after, we had made our way home and she was out of her costume so fast I think there was a sonic boom. So much for a bit of fetish sex.
--------------------
I was stirred from my reverie by her voice as she came down the stairs, nude and displaying her bruised body in all of its glory.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m okay, maybe a little stiff. But I need to know. Are you okay?”
What she was really asking was if we were okay. It took me a second to take stock, realizing I did have an erection in my pajama bottoms, thinking of the Batgirl scene.
“Yeah, we’re okay. But come Monday, if you aren’t going to HR, you best understand that I am.”
She nodded to me.
“I know. I promise, I’ll handle it. I feel pretty awful about what happened.”
“What, that he ***** you?”
She pursed her lips.
“Yeah, a little. But what is bothering me so much is how good he was. I’m so sorry, Honey, but when he was born, they broke the mold on how to fuck a woman. Because he sure conquered me.”
With her words, what little hardness I had in my dick evaporated instantly.
“So why are you going back to him tonight?”
“Because, in the middle of everything, I was so desperate to orgasm that he made me agree to it. To promise him I would meet him. You know how you have teased me so much that I gave in and let you buy the new tool set you wanted. Well, he did that to me. With my hands tied, and his cock in me, and destroying my will, I gave in. I had nothing left to beat him with.” She then hesitated.
“Besides, it is the only way I can get my panties back.”
I sat there, looking at her for several moments. It was then I realized what was going on. Intentionally or not, her words revealed she was living out her deepest, darkest fantasy. The one I could not give her. Batgirl was being defeated and defiled. She was finally suffering her fate worse than death and getting off on it. So, it was simple for her to agree to more. It gave her more of her fantasy. Yet I had no response to it, nothing I could offer her, to save her, simply because she did not want to be saved.
“You hungry?”
“Yes, please?”
So, I went about making her something to eat, and we sat down, silently, as she ate, and contemplated our immediate future.
After another short nap, this time with her snuggled up to me on the couch as I watched the game on TV, she stirred and realized she needed to get ready. She emerged from the blanket covering us as she rose and padded her nude body upstairs. In short order I heard the shower running. I decided the best thing to do this time was not to watch her get dressed. I needed more of this torture like I needed a nail gun in my scrotum. She came down about ninety minutes later, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
She was the opposite of last night. She had her hair up, heavier and darker makeup with blood-red glossy lipstick and smokey-eyes. Her dress was that black satin halter number, with a high waisted, flared skirt and the hemline came down to maybe two inches below her ass. I had seen the dress once before, perhaps last year, but I could never talk her into wearing it. But the amount of cleavage and side-boob it revealed was bordering on scandalous. Her legs were bare and smooth, and while she didn’t show me, I had little doubt she wasn’t wearing panties. The 4-inch black-patent leather stilettos she wore completed the ensemble. I was getting an erection just looking at her. I could not let out a whistle as I was almost drooling.
I rose to collect her in my arms, to hug her, but with a sneaky plan to just throw her down and have her myself, but she used her dainty hand’s blood-red and sharp nails to stop me cold. Her clutching grasp when she reached inside my pajama bottoms and grabbed my nuts in a no-nonsense grip.
“Down, boy.” Her tone was serious. “I know you want me, and I promise when this is all over with, I will do right by you. But like I would do for you, I have to look my best. Even if I know it will be dangerous. Just trust me, that no matter what, I am coming home to you, because I love you!”
My plan thwarted, I simply shared that I loved her too, and she then gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and released my scrotum. She then grabbed her small purse and was out the door, leaving me home alone to fret and worry, and deal with the humiliation she was heaping on me by doing this for another man, even denying me her bare vagina. She was giving it to him and letting him cum in her without anything to hinder nature. I had some more serious misgivings, now. She was going to get laid tonight. I, on the other hand, was just going to risk friction burns.
That night took forever. In my head, all I could envision was my Wendy in the arms of another man, a total stranger who was evidently quite skilled as a lover, and was having unprotected sex with my wife, with nothing to hinder the biological results. The scene behind my eyes was getting more and more detailed, to the very sperm that the black man was ejaculating into my wife, and his seeds swimming upstream to attack her white woman’s egg, and defeat its natural defenses, until her egg was fertilized, and was nestling into her uterus, and begin making nature’s greatest gift, a child. Except it wasn’t my child. That part was both erotic and yet terrifying. I found myself getting relief from my friend Rosey and her five compatriots. A total of three times. That was a record for me. Between the relaxation each episode gave, and the more booze I started drinking, I drifted off to an uneasy sleep. I expected her late, maybe even one or two in the morning.
The next time I saw her was just before noon the next day.
I had texted her when I woke up, but never received a reply. Then I texted her again several more times. Finally unable to cope, I called her, but her phone just went to voice mail. Despite everything I had to contact her, I just faced a blank wall. I sat there stewing, frustrated and at a loss when the sound of her car announced her return, and I peeked out of the window to see her make the ultimate walk of shame up to our front door. I was seething by now, and I didn’t bother to even unlock it for her. When she came in, she saw me scowling with a total-warfare frown.
“Honey. I can’t even explain. I did get my panties back…” she paused to filch them out of her small purse and drop them at my feet. “But I am in trouble.”
I stood there for a moment, looking at her as she looked at me. For someone in trouble, it didn’t look very troubling. In fact, she looked like she had just spent the night doing battle with an octopus who used its suction cups to mark every area I could see. Her neck, her chest, her breasts, and even inside her thighs all had marks and bruises. Even more so than the night before. Her perfectly made French swirl was completely undone, and her normally brushed hair liked like she had been in a wind tunnel. There was nothing left of her lipstick, and the rest of her makeup looked awful. She also smelled. The scent of sweat, faded perfume and semen was clouding all over her.
“In ways you can’t even imagine.” was my own stark and cold reply.
She didn’t try and respond to that, but she moved past me, giving me plenty of space as she then went to take a shower. While I waited, I went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. The first was gone while she was still showering, and the second was half-way drained when she came out to the kitchen, wearing just her terrycloth robe and slippers. I just watched her and said nothing as she hesitated, and then went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. Without speaking, she placed them between us and filled each with a shot of reposado. Lifting her glass, she toasted me and downed her shot like a pro. Then then did the same to a second. All the while, I just looked at her, my face frozen.
I was holding back a mix of emotions. Relief that my wife was finally safe at home, anguish that my wife had betrayed me and betrayed our marriage again, frustration at her apparent lack of willingness to end this, and anger at being treated as a second-class citizen in all of this. I was her fucking husband, for Christ’s sake! My shot sat there as I continued to drain my beer. All the while, my eyes looked at her. She may have gotten the very fuck of her life, while fulfilling whatever fantasies her black lover had, yet at the same time she was denying mine right to my face. The only way it could become more humiliating is if she had done it to me in front of him! Or done it to him, right in front of me? Whatever it was, I was so furious, I couldn’t even think straight!
“Alright. Go ahead. Yell at me, scream at me, curse me if you want. Hell, if you want to slap me around, it’s okay, I guess. I deserve it. I deserve your anger. I have hurt you in more ways than I think I can count. I can only beg you not to leave me. But I can’t blame you if you do.”
Her words had broken the ice, and unfortunately, I was not fully in control of my fury.
“First of all, you ALWAYS fucking answer my call! I don’t care what the fuck is going on in your life, when I call, you answer. I have been sitting here scared, angry, insulted and fucking hurt of the fact you would not take my call, and you never once thought I was important enough to be graced with your presence! I don’t know who in the fuck you think I am, but we pledged our lives to each other, and we promised each other we would never ignore the other, and here you have done that to me! For all fucking night!”
I had risen to my feet, and my hands were curled into fists as I towered over her. I think this is when she realized the gravity of her actions. Not just last night, but even the first night, when she thought she was big enough to break his ego. She was actually cowering in her chair, and her fingers were trembling as she reached out and downed a third shot. She would have to stop, or she would be shit-faced and stupid before I finished venting. She made the effort to try and pour herself another shot, but I reached out and took the bottle from her.
“You will goddamn hear me out, you cheating bitch, and you will fix this and find a way to make me happy. Me. Your fucking husband, remember? The man you swore an oath to? The man you told he held your heart in his hands, and he told you the same damned thing, only you have managed to squeeze the fucking life out of it? How the fuck could you do this to me? How could you treat me like this?”
My rant went on, probably for a good ten minutes of one-way ass-chewing. Yet she never looked away, she never tried to whine her way out of it. She took it like an adult, to the point she sat there looking up to me and started to cry. Her tears leaked from her eyes, and her lip started to quiver, but she was doing her best to take my verbal barrage. But her spine never faltered. Not with me, at any rate. But I never bothered to think of how her spine had snapped to his will. Her black lover’s potential for dominance. But it obviously had, for her body displayed ample evidence of it.
“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.” Her tears were running freely now. “You are right, right to yell at me and right about everything. I am in over my head, and I can’t get out. I don’t know what to do!”
She said some more words, which at this point were largely unintelligible. Her chest was heaving as her body was wracked with sobs, and I was left feeling a mixture of anger, and yet sadness, not to mention a little guilt. My mind was also working on the options. Do I kick her ass out and file for divorce? Do I find a way to reconcile with her? Do I solve her problem for her? Do I let her continue to try and solve it for herself, regardless of the consequences? Do I just let her continue with this affair and let her turn me into a cuckold against my will? None of these options sounded very appealing. Because at the end of the day, I was still the one with all of the emotional injuries, jealousies, humiliations and insults, not to mention being left without a wife to love, honor and cherish me. Not to mention my own sexual desires and fantasies were still un-served. OK, that was going to be part of a solution, perhaps. She would be fulfilling every one of my sexual fantasies I could think of. As I considered all of this, her tears started to dry up.
“First of all, you will tell me everything, and answer every question I have, completely and without any exclusion or omission. Fail me even once and you will be finding a new place to live within an hour.” My voice was menacing, not requesting.
She simply nodded.
“Alright, you will first of all write down his name and contact information. I want to know everything there is to know about this asshole, including his DNA sequence. I am no longer fucking around. It is time for him to find out.”
She took the notepad and pen I slid to her and began writing. She then went to her phone and brought it back, documenting all of his contact details. When she was done, I took the paper and used my phone to snap a picture of it. Then I slid it back to her.
“Now. You will be going to your HR department first thing tomorrow morning. You will not go to your desk, you will not go pee. You will definitely not give whatever his name is… let’s see here…” I looked at the note pad, “uhh, Du’shaun… You will not give him a warning. While you are doing this, I will be attending to this matter in my preferred method. On Tuesday, he will be served with a lawsuit, and he will be charged with ****** you. Officers will go hunt his black ass down, and lock him up, where the rest of the world is safe from predators like him. Once he is safely prohibited from any more contact with him, you and I will determine our next steps. One of them will be to a doctor, to see about your getting an abortion, or whatever it is we need to make sure you are not having his baby.”
I sat back, to evaluate how she was taking this bit of direction. At the moment, I was not treating her as my wife, but as a junior employee who had mis-stepped badly. I wanted to make sure I had her full and un-divided attention and focus. Eying her, she sat there, and I could see from the look in her eyes and the look on her face she understood I was very, very angry, and incredibly disappointed in her. She had played her imaginary game and been defeated, only now with very real consequences. She nodded softly.
“I understand, and I promise to do everything you said. I won’t screw this up. I already know I screwed up badly, and I don’t want to make this any worse.”
I nodded.
“Fine. Now, tell me everything that happened, in order. No dancing around, just tell me the facts.”
She nodded and then rose, going to the refrigerator and bringing out two sodas, one for her, and one for me. She even took the extra step to open it for me. It wasn’t a big thing, in itself, but it was an act of contrition and courtesy. She was trying to show me she understood her place in our marriage right now.
“So. I met Du’ Shaun at a nightclub. He had a booth for us, and so we ate some finger food and chatted a bit. It was then that I told him I needed my panties back, and that it wasn’t an option. After I told him that, he then said he wanted another pair in exchange, and I told him he could have the panties I was wearing, but he would have to take them. He had dangled my panties out in front of me on the table, for everyone to see. From the laughter and comments, I know several people were looking. But I wasn’t about to let him think I was removing my panties for him, anymore”
I looked at her like it was a statement that wouldn’t make any sense no matter how she explained it.
“Umm, that is how guys think, Wendy. I know I sure don’t. If a girl showed up without underwear, I know she wanting to get laid. She also probably isn’t very choosy about who does it.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, so I learned. I mean, when I did it with you, I knew I loved you and wanted you to get the message. I just wasn’t thinking straight. Getting my panties back meant everything, because I knew how upset you were when I came home without them. But he reached the same conclusion you just did when he reached under my dress and felt me up.” She ended with a soft snort.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, just the way he was surprised. He tried not to show it, but his hand suddenly lost any sense of grace, and he started pawing at my crotch and then my hips to verify what his fingers were telling him. For a long moment, he went from being that suave ladies’ man to a teenager on his first date. I was actually starting to laugh when he shut me down by taking his finger and starting to probe my vagina. That made me gasp, and my fingers were suddenly gripping the table out of sheer pleasure. I don’t know why, but his humiliating me like that in such a public setting was turning me on, and I was already well-ready for him. Well, him or any man, actually.”
I looked at her, while feeling my own erection beginning to grow. I was confused in my own way. I wanted my wife to be my woman, yet listening to her describe how she was defiled was also pretty arousing, and in my mind’s eye, I could see my damsel in distress faltering.
“Alright. Go on.”
“So he continued to tease me with his finger, until I was nearly ready to explode. That was when he leaned over and kissed me. Not the sweet kind of gentlemanly kiss, but the deep, passionate kiss like he was devouring me. I couldn’t help it, Robby, honest, but that was when I was done for. He threw some money on the table and damn-near dragged me out of the place, even making me forget my purse. While we were waiting for the valet, I realized I had forgotten my purse, so I hurried back inside to get it, only I couldn’t find it right away. I looked on both sides of the booth, and I was getting frustrated, until I realized I had to look on the floor. So, I put one knee on the bench and bent over, knowing I would be giving at least someone a good look up my dress as I fumbled around, but my fingers finally found it and as I rose, I got a smattering of applause from a few guys. It was so embarrassing!”
I let out an involuntary snort. That is what embarrassed her? Showing her pussy to the room? Not getting finger-fucked in front of these very same people?
“What?”
“Nothing. Go on.”
“Anyways, so I made it out to the car, and stood with Du'Shuan and let him grope me under my skirt while we waited. I could feel people looking at us as they went by, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to make him stop.”
“Saying ‘no’ might have helped.” I grunted.
She nodded, looking chagrined.
“I know. I’m sorry.” After a short pause, she continued. “Are you really sure you want to hear this?”
For reasons I don’t understand, my cock was getting rock-solid, but I kept my voice even. Hard-on or not, I was still upset.
“Yes. I told you. This is all or nothing for you. Deal with it.”
She gulped nervously, and I could see her eyes starting to well up a little. The magnitude of the trouble she was in with me was still dawning on her.
“Alright. So, he drove us downtown, and once we parked, we headed into the Excelsior, and to the rooftop club. Once we got there, he managed to get us a spot on the rails, and he made me hold onto the railing with both hands and told me not to let go. He made me stand there alone while he went to get us drinks, all the while it was pretty windy up there, and my skirt was blowing all around. I heard some guys snickering, and two guys offered me money to go to their room with them, like I was some sort of high-dollar prostitute. As we talked, one of them stood on each side and began feeling my ass! I was confused as to how to respond, politely or with the frustration I felt, but decided I should best be polite because I didn’t want to create a commotion, and so I told them no with a smile. They were trying to negotiate with me when Du’Shaun returned. He asked them what they were doing, and they told him they wanted to hire his whore!”
My mind’s eye could imagine her, and it had been one of my own fantasies to see her like this. So, I was growing more interested, and at the same time, hurt more.
“And?”
“And so, he joked with them, and told them I could be theirs for a grand each for one hour, and they both agreed! I was so shocked I couldn’t even speak! But they both started to try and collect me, and try to take me with them, and that was when Du’Shaun made it clear he was joking and that I was his for the night. They had some more serious discussion, as both guys seemed to really want to get laid, and I was terrified that Du’Shaun was really going to pimp me out. The money was up to $2500 for the hour, and I was so shocked that I couldn’t even speak. He was even playing up the pimp-role a little, asking what room it was and so on. It was all I could do to just look out over the city and try and maintain some sort of dignity.”
She was growing exasperated as she spoke. It seemed he had really upset her at that point. Wendy may have had fantasies, but selling herself wasn’t one of them. Taking a drink of her soda, she then continued, as I adjusted myself in my pants. My erection was raging.
“I finally wound up with just him behind me, and his pelvis pressing at my butt as he gave me tiny little thrusts, while his hands reached around and were reaching inside my dress to grope my boobs, or reach under my skirt, all the while people were around us. I looked back over my shoulder at him, and before I could say a word, he was kissing me again, which was only adding to making me so horny. Every time I began to get louder, he would kiss me to keep my voice quiet. Pretty soon, we were just making out. Between the drinks and the teasing, I was just about ready to explode, and he was just keeping me right at the very peak, without finishing me off. All the while, my hands were still holding onto the railing. Every time I tried to pull my hands off, he put them back on there. We stayed like that for maybe forty-five minutes. It was pure torture!”
“Sounds like it.” Was my non-committal response.
“He finally decided enough was enough and he then led me to the elevator, where we were going to a room he had already reserved. Once we got to the floor, he showed me to the end of the hall, and at his door, he pushed me against it and he then pulled my hips back and he didn’t even bother with any niceties. He just fucked me right there and then! In plain sight of anyone! Thank heavens nobody came along, but by then it was pushing past midnight. It was one position we had never been in, and his legs are longer, so once he had finally gotten his cock inside me, he lifted me by my hips and held me up, my feet just dangling there as he fucked me, making me helpless all over again. I tried to protest, to kick my legs, even, but it just wasn’t working. He might have well as tied me up like that. Or even ***** me on the rooftop. I was just as helpless. But this time, he couldn’t keep me quiet, and as I screamed with my orgasm, he damn-near shoved me through the door before somebody came out to see what the problem was.”
I had to take a deep breath here, as my cock was screaming at me as well, for the images her descriptions were creating were now creating a small wetness in my underwear. I fervently hoped the spot could not be seen by my wife.
“So, then what?”
She shrugged.
“Much as you might imagine, he threw me on the bed and got on me again, only like before, he did his bed to nail me to the bed. Like before, he not only shot his load in me, but he also held my legs up and fingered my clit until I orgasmed again.”
She shook her head.
“I swear, it was like he was doing everything in his power to get me pregnant.”
“Oh, you think so?” My voice was rather irritated by this ‘startling revelation’ of hers.
She shook her head again.
“I know. I know. I am so sorry, Honey. So, to finish your original question, he made love to me three more times that night. I didn’t get to sleep until around 6:00 AM. That is why I couldn’t respond to you. I was either in his clutches, or asleep. I wasn’t ignoring you. I just couldn’t physically answer you. I’m sorry!”
I sat back and looked at her for along moment, and then took a deep swig of my soda as I looked out the window.
“So, what about us? Where do we go from here?”
There was silence in the response.
“Wendy? I asked you a question.”
“I know. I’m afraid to answer it. Because in none of these answers do I feel that great. I know I hurt you, and I feel terrible. I feel guilty, I feel ashamed, and I feel just awful all around. I’m afraid. I am afraid of what you will decide, and I am afraid for what may happen.”
“And what do you see might happen?”
“Well, the very best case is I don’t get pregnant, you forgive me, and I make it up to you.”
I gave a half shrug. Again, I was very non-committal, though I have to admit, she was being pretty open from what I could tell.
“The second is I get pregnant, have an abortion, and we reconcile. The third is I get pregnant, and keep the baby, and things get ugly between us. Everything from here on down is just not good, and it is just breaking my heart. I so fucked up, Robby. I am so sorry!”
Again, came the tears. I had the impression that if there was a way to capture women’s tears, we could end a world-drought in about a week.
“Aright. Just know this, starting right here and now. You are done with him, right here, right now, and you have to do some serious ass-kissing. My ass, to be specific. You are now going to be the picture-perfect wife I want. What I want, how I want, and the rest. You will be my arm-candy, even if we are just going to the store. You will do everything in your power to please me. Once we know if you are pregnant or not, then we’ll see what happens next. So, get ready, because you are going to spend all day and night taking my cock. One way or another.”
She paused, and then she nodded, but asked something in a meek voice.
“May I ask this one kindness from you?”
“What is it?”
“I... I just can’t risk you getting me pregnant. If you ejaculate inside me, I won’t be able to have an abortion, because I refuse to terminate your child. That is just too important to me. I’ll give you the best blow-jobs known to humans, and you can have my butt. But please, I am asking you, leave my vagina alone?”
I had to sit there for a long moment and contemplate it. I didn’t like it, but she had a point.
“Alright. Go get ready. I’ve been waiting all weekend.”
That was how we spent the rest of the day, until Monday came around….
My Wife's Dating Troubles- Ch. 3
My Wife’s Dating Troubles- Ch. 3
Author’s Note: I wanted to say thanks to my readers for all the positive feedback. This series will probably be my last one in this genre of male point-of-view stories for a while. I don’t know why, but every chapter just becomes so tedious to write! I suppose it is because I can’t identify with the main character, like I can with my female characters, such as in “The Neighbor” series.
Regardless, I am going to finish this series to the end, even if it takes more work from me. Fair warning, there is not a lot of sex in this one, just storyline progress and development.
So, for now, the saga continues, and Robby learns more, but so does Wendy.
---------------
Monday morning came, and Wendy was up and out of the shower before my alarm even sounded. My dreams have been a mix of comfort and confusion. I was gaining comfort because my wife had suddenly come to her senses and was giving me every single sexual pleasure I wanted, and we had agreed to. I knew her vagina was forbidden to me, for now, until she knew if she was pregnant or not. But in the meantime, she was making up for lost time by draining my cock with her tongue, and sucking down every drop, and I even was able to mount her and take her ass, a territory once forbidden to not only me, but every other man. I could tell she didn’t get much from it, but I sure did, and I nutted in her in only a short time. I also didn’t give a shit about how much pleasure she got from it. She had been getting off from that asshole black lover she had been ‘victimized’ by.
Her fantasies, or fetish, or whatever you wanted to call it, about her being the damsel in distress who actually suffers that fate worse than death, were still in her mind, I could tell. They seemed to be taking over her sexual desires. She was finding being a victim replacing true, loving relationships as her primary sexual relief. Especially when I was fucking her in the ass. I don’t know if she intended it or not, but I could hear her soft moans and whimpering about begging for help and her muted cries for rescue. Her soft voice was seeming to beg me not to cum in her and make her pregnant, either. Too bad. I knew she couldn’t even come close to pregnancy this route, but if it helped her get through the pain of my reaming her ass with my 5-inch cock, so be it. They were her fantasies, not mine. But taking her ass was special.
I had managed to slide her into our bedroom, and slowly disrobe her as we stood next to our marital bed. My lips softly kissed hers, something which she only hesitatingly returned, at first. It was odd, but I was going to enjoy this time with her. My fingers slowly undid the satin sash of her short satin robe, the white one she had worn on our wedding night. The one that had covered the stunning lingerie she had worn for me, but most recently had worn for the black man she said had ***** her. I was beginning to doubt that. As the silky material fell open, the size of her breasts made her robe slide open even more, the soft material caressing her nipples as the garment fell open, the sides dangling from her shoulders and held apart by the sides of her breasts as I paused to take in her sheer physical beauty. I was pleased to find she had omitted the same panties she had worn on our wedding night and had gone to extreme measures to retrieve from her black ****** turned lover.
She had started to let her pubic hair grow back, maintaining a slender tuft that formed a triangle aimed at her womanhood. With one arm wrapped behind her, I lowered my lips to her closest nipple and began to suckle on it, while nibbling carefully with my teeth. I felt her body shift and her head fall back on her neck as she had to breathe in air through her teeth. As her nipples rose in arousal, I knew that I had her in my clutches. I wasn’t going to **** my wife, but I was going to enjoy myself at her expense.
I switched nipples and let my free hand drop to her pubic hair, trailing through it until I found her hot button and began to encircle it with small, rapid rotations, using care not to pummel it, but more surround it, letting her feel the sides of my finger all around her clit as it emerged from the protective cape covering it. It did not take long and soon her hands were roving along my body and in my hair, her voice starting to purr.
“Ohhh… yesss… Robby… yesss….” She moaned softly.
Her hips were starting to undulate as I lowered my face to her crotch, my knees placed to force her feet apart. I had managed to get her to wear her red fuck-me heels, a treat for me in being able to envision her as my own personal porn starlet. Besides, they made her hips rotate just so, and give her ass an extra-tantalizing tilt. They just made her look more fuckable. I loved it when she wore heels!
I blew softly on her pubic hair as my finger began to ever so lightly caress her labia, teasing her folds with the gentlest of caresses along their length, from front to back on one side and then back to front on the other.
“Ohhh... nooo... nooo... please…don’t do this to meeee… don’t make me…” her soft voice moaned.
She had slipped into her fantasy land, where I must be some evil villain, her Dastardly Do-Wrong who was going to violate her and rip her maidenhood from her imagined-virtuous body.
I began to feel her wetness as her love-lubrication was starting to flow. I continued several more loops of this teasing, before I lowered my face to her clit and flicked my tongue at it a few times, before lowering my lips to it and suckling like a baby. Using my tongue to tease the end of her pearl, the suction caused her to much enjoyment that she didn’t even feel my finger begin to enter her. But one sensation brought my invasion straight to the forefront.
Once my finger had opened her gently, I curled my finger and began to slowly, and ever so softly, tease her sweet spot, that bundle to nerves all women had, yet most men seemed to be unable to find with both hands and a map. Keeping my tongue on her clit and my finger massaging her G-spot, it took me only a few minutes to make her detonate and explode she did!
Her hands had managed to slither down her body to my head and she was both controlling my movements, or attempting to, and running her fingers through my hair, and massaging my scalp. But when she climaxed, her fingers grew into tiny fists, which were holding onto my hair, and pulling at it, as she drew rigid and her back arched. Her head lurched back as she screamed in wild pleasure, writhing and shuddering violently as wave after wave of sexual release devoured her.
Without knowing it, she had yanked me to my feet, to keep my hair from being ripped out, and I went with her as I managed to use my body to push her back, landing heavily on the bed, with both of us bouncing. It was then she released my hair, and I had a moment to rub my scalp as she was still recovering from her orgasm, her body still shivering with the occasional shocks of her body getting additional waves of well-pleasured release.
“Ohhh... that was so tremendously hot!”
Her words ended with a lewd, hotly devouring kiss where she was literally throwing her lips and her tongue into it, offering herself to be consumed by her evil lover, or in this case, me.
I let the kiss naturally die out and gave her a few quick ones to follow and then reached between her legs and used my arm to leverage her onto her stomach, climbing between her legs and using my knees to widen them apart. I kept ushering them wider and wider, until she had to look back at me and ask.
“Robby, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, Wen, nothing at all…”
My hands began to rub her backside, rubbing and then groping her butt cheeks, using firm, full palms and fingers to get some sensory pleasure of just consuming what I was about to devour. I let my fingers rub down the crack of her ass, to her dark flower, and circled it, causing her butt to flex, and she giggled softly. But when my finger softly pressed on the sphinctered closure, she gasped, and she tried to look back at me.
“Robby, no. Don’t you dare! We talked about this, remember?”
I used my free hand to reach across her and pull out the drawer on my bed table drawing out a small bottle of lube. I had bought it from when I was jerking off so many times while she went to get ***** by that black asshole that my dick was sore, so to ease the pain I started using lube. I drizzled some of it on her butt crack and started to massage it around her anal area, which cause her to gasp, and then purse her lips. She was a smart woman. She knew what was coming. Mainly me, inside her. She even tried to wriggle out from under me, but I held her trapped by yanking on her hair and pulling her head back until she yelped. I pressed more firmly, and she gasped, and then winced, her voice softly uttering a grunt of discomfort, while I kept the pressure up. Finally, her anus surrendered, and I was able to penetrate her, which made her grunt more, and begin to beg.
“Please… seriously... Honey, I am begging you. Don’t do this to me? I don’t deserve this. It is so humiliating! Please? Don’t!”
Her begging only served to turn me on, actually, as here she was, finally my own damsel in distress, only she was going to suffer that same fate worse than death. I kept the pressure on, drizzling more lube where I needed it, along with onto my growing cock. A few comforting strokes was all it took to get my cock ready, and I withdrew my finger, which gave her some relief until I placed my body over hers. I aimed my throbbing shaft at her dark button, and began to lower my body, letting gravity do the work. There was no way I was going to soften, not now. I had managed a few of the little blue pills from my doctor, for those days I was just too tired, but needed to perform anyway. So, I was rock solid and ready, and she tried to squirm under me again, to escape, but I had her trapped by her hair, with her knees wider than wide, and her backside vulnerable. It was then I began to feel her yield to me, as I heard her first soft moaning words, begging for rescue. Begging to be saved from the clutches of her evil, vile villain.
At the smell of coffee, I made my way into the kitchen to find Wendy already dressed. She was dressed to kill. Not in the sexy way, though she did look hot as Hell, but she was wearing an outfit she called a going to war suit. A long pencil skirt made of black leather, with black, back-seamed stockings and 4-inch stilettos that were topped off by a shiny Champagne satin blouse and a matching leather bolero jacket. With her hair up and with medium-sized hoop earrings and professional makeup, she looked competent, skilled, and even displaying a hint of dominance. With a whip or whatever, she might make a lesser man drop to all fours in front of her. She offered me a steaming cup of coffee and held up her own in toast.
“Okay, Honey, today starts my doing it your way. First to drop my stuff off, go pee and then direct to HR. I figure by noon I will have an idea what is going to happen.”
She looked at the clock and smiled nervously.
“I can’t help but be nervous.” She added, then after a brief hesitation she added. “I am going to swing by the pharmacy on my way home, too. I am not late, yet. But I will be soon, so I want to be able to tell if I got knocked up or not.”
“You know, we never really talked about this. What if you are? How are we going to handle it? Will you be able to get an abortion?”
I was trying to set an expectation, here. I was not about to be told I am having to raise some other asshole’s child.
She pursed her lips and shrugged softly.
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s complicated, and I don’t know what Du’Shaun will say. I don’t know what the rules are on this.”
“What does he get to say about any of this? If he ***** you, and you say he did, and he got you pregnant, then he is either going to give us what we want, or I am going to call the police and charge him with being a sexual predator, or whatever bullshit politically correct term they use nowadays.”
She set down her coffee and reached up to me, placing her slender, perfectly manicured fingers on my shoulders.
“Honey, relax. One thing at a time. We’ll figure this all out. I can’t predict the future any more than you can. Right now, I have to do one of the most unpleasant things I know of. Having to admit to some stranger the intimate details of my sex life. So please, wish me luck. Once I am done, I’ll call you.”
She ended her words with a soft kiss to my lips and a weak smile, her eyes belying the nervousness she felt. She walked out the front door with my own weak smile in acknowledgement, as well as my lecherous gaze at her ass in that skirt. I thought I could detect the subtle signs of her wearing a garter belt with her stockings. But no panty-lines, so she was definitely wearing a thong, if she was wearing any panties at all.
Shaking my head, I went to get my own day going and went to the office.
At my desk, I found time moving slower than molasses in February. I could swear I heard every tick of the dial clock on my desk, which was strange, since my clock was electronic. I suffered through a conference call that could have been handled with a memo and read memos that could have been handled with a text message, or better yet simply thrown out. My mood was souring, and my administrative assistant was picking up on my vibes. She brought me in a fresh cup of coffee and a donut, and then wisely shut my office door. It was her way of telling me to keep my attitude to myself. Smart woman.
When my cell phone did ring, I might have well been sitting on an electric chair. I nearly blasted from my seat as I heard the personalized ringtone for my wife, a short few bars of “My Girl” by The Temptations.
“Hey... talk to me.” I greeted her with some relief.
“Hi, Honey. Well, it is done. I did it exactly as you said, and they spent over two hours grilling me on every detail. The whys and the whats and the hows. They even tried to suggest that I tried to seduce him, instead of trying to get him to leave me alone. To leave all of us girls alone. Even my reminding them of his previous violations didn’t hold much sway. They kept cross-checking my information, and my words, and one of them wanted to get really detailed about the things Du’Shaun did to me. It was like he was getting me to give him his own personal porn recital. They even wanted me to describe his cock, and how did I know how big ten inches was, how did I recognize his foreskin, was I sure I understood what circumcision was, even why wasn’t I on the pill! I swear, they were getting pretty damned personal with my sex life!”
I heard her take a deep breath and calm herself down.
“Honey, they even wanted to know about our sex life. How often did we have sex, was I satisfied with your love-making, did we ever roleplay, even down to what brand of condom did you wear! Fuck, they even wanted to know how often you masturbated! I mean, what the actual fuck?”
She was starting to escalate again. She was making it obvious that she had been through a rough experience with them.
“So where did it end up, Wendy? What directions did they give?”
“Well, I was told to see our physician, to get tested for any STDs, as well as to get a pregnancy test. They said that if I am indeed pregnant, then he or even they can insist on a paternity test. If the child is yours, then this is pretty much going to dry up and blow away. But if the child is his, then they would have to consider stronger actions.”
“But I couldn’t possibly have gotten you pregnant, yet. I’ve been wearing a rubber for months.”
“I know that, Honey, and I tried to tell them that, but they said accidents can still happen and they want proof.”
I grunted at that.
“Wen, what they want to have is evidence to cover their asses because their guy may have fucked up badly, and they would be on the hook for it. I suppose it is time we started looking for representation. I’ll have Amanda start looking.” I didn’t need to add that Amanda was my Administrative Assistant who wisely closed my office door. I was going to have her find an attorney who liked to eat people for fun.
“Good idea, Sweetheart. I am going to head out and go home. They told me to stay at home until I heard from them. Right now, I am on paid leave, but to expect to be called every day to ensure I am at home. I guess they have had people try to scam them and get free vacations by claiming fake stories. So, I am on a staycation of sorts. I’ll see you when you get home, Honey. I love you.”
She clicked off and I went to my door and asked for Amanda to come in.
“Amanda, it is time to break things and hurt people. Check with Thomas in Legal to see who is good at that sort of thing. Probably in liability or personal injury. Oh, and be sure to tell him it is for me, and it’s personal, not company related. I don’t want his ass getting so tight about the company that he can’t think straight.”
It was time for Robby to wage war, and my day got considerably brighter.
--------------------
When I got home, I was surprised to find dinner nearly ready, and Wendy wearing a comfy set of pajamas and slippers. When she heard me enter, she came to greet me and smiled, giving me a kiss and then told me to hurry and change, because dinner would be ready. We were having chicken parmigiana, which I always enjoyed. Once we were seated and beginning to eat, I had to ask.
“So how was your day, Dear?”
She laughed a little at that.
“Well, for someone on administrative leave, I spent most of the day on the phone. It seems I have set off a bit of an explosion. It seems three or four other girls came forward just in my department, one of them being Maureen, who is also married, and definitely pregnant. She has to do the paternity test because the rumor is she doesn’t know who the father is, and it could be Du’Shaun. But the real big deal is that it could be Mr. William’s child as well. He is Du’Shaun’s boss. The shit is really hitting the fan on the sales side. It seems those guys have been bedding every pair of boobs walking, and evidently, they have some sort of list or something.”
“A list? Of what?”
“Of girls to screw. Along with a ranking. The word is that this list has points on it for each girl they managed to get in bed, or on the desk, or whatever. Jill said I am number 4 on the list, but I think some of it is more political. Mrs. Thomas is highest, but she is the CEO’s wife, and she’s about fifty.”
I frowned thoughtfully. “Well… I’m not sure if I should be flattered or angry.”
“Yeah, welcome to the club. What’s even more annoying is that these guys gave it even more thought. They have a scoring multiplier based on where it happens. For example. I am ranked number four, so I have an inverse multiplier of 25, to equal 100 points, times that of the location score of where it happens. So, if I am bedded in my office, I am worth 250 points. But if I am with one of the sales guys on the main conference table during a video conference, I am worth something like 12 billion points.”
I sat back in my chair as I chewed my very delicious dinner and had to think about this. It was almost like an organized crime racket.
“So, what happens now? What are they doing to the men?”
“I don’t know.” Wendy shrugged. “But it isn’t going to be good. Two guys immediately submitted their resignations. Du’Shaun was summoned to HR as well, though I hear an attorney was also in the room.”
“Yeah, that figures. Covering their ass. Didn’t you say he was popular with the company or something?” I snorted.
“Yep. He’s going to come out of this squeaky clean, somehow, just you watch. What worries me is what he will say about me. How badly is my reputation going to get hurt.”
I shook my head and reached out to rub her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about that, Wen. If need be, just resign. We can afford to live on my salary for a good while until you figure out your next steps. What’s more important is the calendar and nature. We still need to discuss that.”
My wife looked at me, and then shook her head.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She began carefully. “I’m not sure I can get an abortion. It isn’t about you, and it certainly isn’t about Du’Shaun. But it’s about my conscience. I don’t know if I can do it. I’m sorry.”
Tears began to leak from her eyes at that point. Wisdom, which comes from making mistakes, told me not to press her when she was crying. The outcomes were never good. So, I just rubbed her back as best I could and let the subject drop for the moment. Who knew? It might all be for nothing anyway. I hoped…
----------------------
The next few days were pretty much the same thing, only I could tell That my wife was getting bored. Watching television wasn’t very mentally stimulating, or even upsetting, given the propaganda being vomited on the so-called “news” and other programing. She kept getting her daily phone calls, until that Friday, when I came home early from work. Wendy was being the very best girl and wife she could be, and she needed to get out, but she hadn’t gotten her phone call. It was approaching four o’clock, and Happy Hour, and I wanted to take her out to dinner, and have some quality time with her. So, I told her screw it, let’s go.
She threw on a Sundress and sandals, and brushed her hair, and then we left. Shortly after, we were seated int eh bar area of a restaurant, munching snacks and nursing margaritas when her phone rang. The look on her face was blushing and embarrassed.
“Look, I’m sorry. I waited and waited, but my husband said it was time to leave…”
She then paused while she listened.
“Yes, I know... Yes… Yes… Okay… Yes, I know the-…”
I was getting annoyed myself now. I snatched the phone from her hand, an angry stare in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, who is this bothering my wife?”
The voice on the other end was a rather supercilious and rather self-important woman.
“I am Dawn, the HR director’s executive administrative assistant, I’ll have you know. You have no…”
“I don’t give a flying fuck who the Hell you think you are, but right now you are inches from death by my fist pulling your vagina through your mouth. If you ever treat my wife like that again, I will personally come down there and kick your ass so hard you have to walk on all fours. You got that, Bitch?”
She was suddenly stammering.
“Sir... you do not have the right to…”
“Bitch, I will call you whatever I feel like. My name is Robert, and I am Wendy’s husband. She is here with me, and my insistence as her husband. I have taken my wife out on a date, as I am legally entitled to. So, you can inform your boss that unless he wants to be named in a lawsuit for workplace harassment, loss of consortium and whatever else I can think of, you best quit while you are behind. While you are at it, you can also change your goddamn attitude. If you ever speak to me like that again, I will personally come to your desk, take the leg of your chair, and break it off in your ass! Is there any part of this you do not understand?”
With that, I simply disconnected the call and handed her phone back, grousing how she was too stupid to live and muttering how grateful that fucking cunt should be to still be breathing.
“Jeez, Honey… I think you just got me fired.” Wendy expressed in astonishment.
I gave a thoughtful frown and shook my head.
“Nah. Amanda did a great job and found us great counsel. Once I explained the situation to her, she got a little irate at Du’Shaun and your company as well. She gave me a bunch of magic words to say, and on Monday I will let her know about this call you just received. You’re Teflon right now. Nothing is going to stick to you. Especially Tuesday, when she and I go over there.”
-------------------
Tuesday never happened.
Wendy called me at work and asked if I could come home at lunch. So, walking in just before, I saw her seated with three people, two men and a woman. The men were the Vice-President of the entire company, the Human Resources Director, and the woman was an IT manager. After shaking hands, my comment was simple.
“Why are you people in my house?” Direct, to the point, and setting the tone that the man of the house and King of His castle was not amused.
“Sir…” It was the VP speaking. “I wanted to be the first to apologize for the things that have happened. Obviously, we have not been taking some of our responsibilities as seriously as we should have, and that includes how we treat our employees…”
“And their families…” the HR Director butted in.
I could not help but smile at that. Evidently some Executive Administrative Assistant had gotten not only butt-hurt at my diatribe, but also gotten her ass reamed by whomever she told, presumably this guy. They were in serious damage-control mode now. I could recognize it, because I have been involved with screw-ups in my own company.
The rest of the discussion went pretty much as I expected. Apologies, and so on, but with one surprise, which explained the IT woman. The company issued Wendy a laptop and all of the credentialing she needed to begin working again. Their logic was that the projects she was working on needed her, and since they were paying her anyway, she might as well get something accomplished.
When they left, I turned to my wife, and smiled.
“I told you. Teflon, babe. Teflon…”
To be continued.
Author’s Note: I wanted to say thanks to my readers for all the positive feedback. This series will probably be my last one in this genre of male point-of-view stories for a while. I don’t know why, but every chapter just becomes so tedious to write! I suppose it is because I can’t identify with the main character, like I can with my female characters, such as in “The Neighbor” series.
Regardless, I am going to finish this series to the end, even if it takes more work from me. Fair warning, there is not a lot of sex in this one, just storyline progress and development.
So, for now, the saga continues, and Robby learns more, but so does Wendy.
---------------
Monday morning came, and Wendy was up and out of the shower before my alarm even sounded. My dreams have been a mix of comfort and confusion. I was gaining comfort because my wife had suddenly come to her senses and was giving me every single sexual pleasure I wanted, and we had agreed to. I knew her vagina was forbidden to me, for now, until she knew if she was pregnant or not. But in the meantime, she was making up for lost time by draining my cock with her tongue, and sucking down every drop, and I even was able to mount her and take her ass, a territory once forbidden to not only me, but every other man. I could tell she didn’t get much from it, but I sure did, and I nutted in her in only a short time. I also didn’t give a shit about how much pleasure she got from it. She had been getting off from that asshole black lover she had been ‘victimized’ by.
Her fantasies, or fetish, or whatever you wanted to call it, about her being the damsel in distress who actually suffers that fate worse than death, were still in her mind, I could tell. They seemed to be taking over her sexual desires. She was finding being a victim replacing true, loving relationships as her primary sexual relief. Especially when I was fucking her in the ass. I don’t know if she intended it or not, but I could hear her soft moans and whimpering about begging for help and her muted cries for rescue. Her soft voice was seeming to beg me not to cum in her and make her pregnant, either. Too bad. I knew she couldn’t even come close to pregnancy this route, but if it helped her get through the pain of my reaming her ass with my 5-inch cock, so be it. They were her fantasies, not mine. But taking her ass was special.
I had managed to slide her into our bedroom, and slowly disrobe her as we stood next to our marital bed. My lips softly kissed hers, something which she only hesitatingly returned, at first. It was odd, but I was going to enjoy this time with her. My fingers slowly undid the satin sash of her short satin robe, the white one she had worn on our wedding night. The one that had covered the stunning lingerie she had worn for me, but most recently had worn for the black man she said had ***** her. I was beginning to doubt that. As the silky material fell open, the size of her breasts made her robe slide open even more, the soft material caressing her nipples as the garment fell open, the sides dangling from her shoulders and held apart by the sides of her breasts as I paused to take in her sheer physical beauty. I was pleased to find she had omitted the same panties she had worn on our wedding night and had gone to extreme measures to retrieve from her black ****** turned lover.
She had started to let her pubic hair grow back, maintaining a slender tuft that formed a triangle aimed at her womanhood. With one arm wrapped behind her, I lowered my lips to her closest nipple and began to suckle on it, while nibbling carefully with my teeth. I felt her body shift and her head fall back on her neck as she had to breathe in air through her teeth. As her nipples rose in arousal, I knew that I had her in my clutches. I wasn’t going to **** my wife, but I was going to enjoy myself at her expense.
I switched nipples and let my free hand drop to her pubic hair, trailing through it until I found her hot button and began to encircle it with small, rapid rotations, using care not to pummel it, but more surround it, letting her feel the sides of my finger all around her clit as it emerged from the protective cape covering it. It did not take long and soon her hands were roving along my body and in my hair, her voice starting to purr.
“Ohhh… yesss… Robby… yesss….” She moaned softly.
Her hips were starting to undulate as I lowered my face to her crotch, my knees placed to force her feet apart. I had managed to get her to wear her red fuck-me heels, a treat for me in being able to envision her as my own personal porn starlet. Besides, they made her hips rotate just so, and give her ass an extra-tantalizing tilt. They just made her look more fuckable. I loved it when she wore heels!
I blew softly on her pubic hair as my finger began to ever so lightly caress her labia, teasing her folds with the gentlest of caresses along their length, from front to back on one side and then back to front on the other.
“Ohhh... nooo... nooo... please…don’t do this to meeee… don’t make me…” her soft voice moaned.
She had slipped into her fantasy land, where I must be some evil villain, her Dastardly Do-Wrong who was going to violate her and rip her maidenhood from her imagined-virtuous body.
I began to feel her wetness as her love-lubrication was starting to flow. I continued several more loops of this teasing, before I lowered my face to her clit and flicked my tongue at it a few times, before lowering my lips to it and suckling like a baby. Using my tongue to tease the end of her pearl, the suction caused her to much enjoyment that she didn’t even feel my finger begin to enter her. But one sensation brought my invasion straight to the forefront.
Once my finger had opened her gently, I curled my finger and began to slowly, and ever so softly, tease her sweet spot, that bundle to nerves all women had, yet most men seemed to be unable to find with both hands and a map. Keeping my tongue on her clit and my finger massaging her G-spot, it took me only a few minutes to make her detonate and explode she did!
Her hands had managed to slither down her body to my head and she was both controlling my movements, or attempting to, and running her fingers through my hair, and massaging my scalp. But when she climaxed, her fingers grew into tiny fists, which were holding onto my hair, and pulling at it, as she drew rigid and her back arched. Her head lurched back as she screamed in wild pleasure, writhing and shuddering violently as wave after wave of sexual release devoured her.
Without knowing it, she had yanked me to my feet, to keep my hair from being ripped out, and I went with her as I managed to use my body to push her back, landing heavily on the bed, with both of us bouncing. It was then she released my hair, and I had a moment to rub my scalp as she was still recovering from her orgasm, her body still shivering with the occasional shocks of her body getting additional waves of well-pleasured release.
“Ohhh... that was so tremendously hot!”
Her words ended with a lewd, hotly devouring kiss where she was literally throwing her lips and her tongue into it, offering herself to be consumed by her evil lover, or in this case, me.
I let the kiss naturally die out and gave her a few quick ones to follow and then reached between her legs and used my arm to leverage her onto her stomach, climbing between her legs and using my knees to widen them apart. I kept ushering them wider and wider, until she had to look back at me and ask.
“Robby, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, Wen, nothing at all…”
My hands began to rub her backside, rubbing and then groping her butt cheeks, using firm, full palms and fingers to get some sensory pleasure of just consuming what I was about to devour. I let my fingers rub down the crack of her ass, to her dark flower, and circled it, causing her butt to flex, and she giggled softly. But when my finger softly pressed on the sphinctered closure, she gasped, and she tried to look back at me.
“Robby, no. Don’t you dare! We talked about this, remember?”
I used my free hand to reach across her and pull out the drawer on my bed table drawing out a small bottle of lube. I had bought it from when I was jerking off so many times while she went to get ***** by that black asshole that my dick was sore, so to ease the pain I started using lube. I drizzled some of it on her butt crack and started to massage it around her anal area, which cause her to gasp, and then purse her lips. She was a smart woman. She knew what was coming. Mainly me, inside her. She even tried to wriggle out from under me, but I held her trapped by yanking on her hair and pulling her head back until she yelped. I pressed more firmly, and she gasped, and then winced, her voice softly uttering a grunt of discomfort, while I kept the pressure up. Finally, her anus surrendered, and I was able to penetrate her, which made her grunt more, and begin to beg.
“Please… seriously... Honey, I am begging you. Don’t do this to me? I don’t deserve this. It is so humiliating! Please? Don’t!”
Her begging only served to turn me on, actually, as here she was, finally my own damsel in distress, only she was going to suffer that same fate worse than death. I kept the pressure on, drizzling more lube where I needed it, along with onto my growing cock. A few comforting strokes was all it took to get my cock ready, and I withdrew my finger, which gave her some relief until I placed my body over hers. I aimed my throbbing shaft at her dark button, and began to lower my body, letting gravity do the work. There was no way I was going to soften, not now. I had managed a few of the little blue pills from my doctor, for those days I was just too tired, but needed to perform anyway. So, I was rock solid and ready, and she tried to squirm under me again, to escape, but I had her trapped by her hair, with her knees wider than wide, and her backside vulnerable. It was then I began to feel her yield to me, as I heard her first soft moaning words, begging for rescue. Begging to be saved from the clutches of her evil, vile villain.
At the smell of coffee, I made my way into the kitchen to find Wendy already dressed. She was dressed to kill. Not in the sexy way, though she did look hot as Hell, but she was wearing an outfit she called a going to war suit. A long pencil skirt made of black leather, with black, back-seamed stockings and 4-inch stilettos that were topped off by a shiny Champagne satin blouse and a matching leather bolero jacket. With her hair up and with medium-sized hoop earrings and professional makeup, she looked competent, skilled, and even displaying a hint of dominance. With a whip or whatever, she might make a lesser man drop to all fours in front of her. She offered me a steaming cup of coffee and held up her own in toast.
“Okay, Honey, today starts my doing it your way. First to drop my stuff off, go pee and then direct to HR. I figure by noon I will have an idea what is going to happen.”
She looked at the clock and smiled nervously.
“I can’t help but be nervous.” She added, then after a brief hesitation she added. “I am going to swing by the pharmacy on my way home, too. I am not late, yet. But I will be soon, so I want to be able to tell if I got knocked up or not.”
“You know, we never really talked about this. What if you are? How are we going to handle it? Will you be able to get an abortion?”
I was trying to set an expectation, here. I was not about to be told I am having to raise some other asshole’s child.
She pursed her lips and shrugged softly.
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s complicated, and I don’t know what Du’Shaun will say. I don’t know what the rules are on this.”
“What does he get to say about any of this? If he ***** you, and you say he did, and he got you pregnant, then he is either going to give us what we want, or I am going to call the police and charge him with being a sexual predator, or whatever bullshit politically correct term they use nowadays.”
She set down her coffee and reached up to me, placing her slender, perfectly manicured fingers on my shoulders.
“Honey, relax. One thing at a time. We’ll figure this all out. I can’t predict the future any more than you can. Right now, I have to do one of the most unpleasant things I know of. Having to admit to some stranger the intimate details of my sex life. So please, wish me luck. Once I am done, I’ll call you.”
She ended her words with a soft kiss to my lips and a weak smile, her eyes belying the nervousness she felt. She walked out the front door with my own weak smile in acknowledgement, as well as my lecherous gaze at her ass in that skirt. I thought I could detect the subtle signs of her wearing a garter belt with her stockings. But no panty-lines, so she was definitely wearing a thong, if she was wearing any panties at all.
Shaking my head, I went to get my own day going and went to the office.
At my desk, I found time moving slower than molasses in February. I could swear I heard every tick of the dial clock on my desk, which was strange, since my clock was electronic. I suffered through a conference call that could have been handled with a memo and read memos that could have been handled with a text message, or better yet simply thrown out. My mood was souring, and my administrative assistant was picking up on my vibes. She brought me in a fresh cup of coffee and a donut, and then wisely shut my office door. It was her way of telling me to keep my attitude to myself. Smart woman.
When my cell phone did ring, I might have well been sitting on an electric chair. I nearly blasted from my seat as I heard the personalized ringtone for my wife, a short few bars of “My Girl” by The Temptations.
“Hey... talk to me.” I greeted her with some relief.
“Hi, Honey. Well, it is done. I did it exactly as you said, and they spent over two hours grilling me on every detail. The whys and the whats and the hows. They even tried to suggest that I tried to seduce him, instead of trying to get him to leave me alone. To leave all of us girls alone. Even my reminding them of his previous violations didn’t hold much sway. They kept cross-checking my information, and my words, and one of them wanted to get really detailed about the things Du’Shaun did to me. It was like he was getting me to give him his own personal porn recital. They even wanted me to describe his cock, and how did I know how big ten inches was, how did I recognize his foreskin, was I sure I understood what circumcision was, even why wasn’t I on the pill! I swear, they were getting pretty damned personal with my sex life!”
I heard her take a deep breath and calm herself down.
“Honey, they even wanted to know about our sex life. How often did we have sex, was I satisfied with your love-making, did we ever roleplay, even down to what brand of condom did you wear! Fuck, they even wanted to know how often you masturbated! I mean, what the actual fuck?”
She was starting to escalate again. She was making it obvious that she had been through a rough experience with them.
“So where did it end up, Wendy? What directions did they give?”
“Well, I was told to see our physician, to get tested for any STDs, as well as to get a pregnancy test. They said that if I am indeed pregnant, then he or even they can insist on a paternity test. If the child is yours, then this is pretty much going to dry up and blow away. But if the child is his, then they would have to consider stronger actions.”
“But I couldn’t possibly have gotten you pregnant, yet. I’ve been wearing a rubber for months.”
“I know that, Honey, and I tried to tell them that, but they said accidents can still happen and they want proof.”
I grunted at that.
“Wen, what they want to have is evidence to cover their asses because their guy may have fucked up badly, and they would be on the hook for it. I suppose it is time we started looking for representation. I’ll have Amanda start looking.” I didn’t need to add that Amanda was my Administrative Assistant who wisely closed my office door. I was going to have her find an attorney who liked to eat people for fun.
“Good idea, Sweetheart. I am going to head out and go home. They told me to stay at home until I heard from them. Right now, I am on paid leave, but to expect to be called every day to ensure I am at home. I guess they have had people try to scam them and get free vacations by claiming fake stories. So, I am on a staycation of sorts. I’ll see you when you get home, Honey. I love you.”
She clicked off and I went to my door and asked for Amanda to come in.
“Amanda, it is time to break things and hurt people. Check with Thomas in Legal to see who is good at that sort of thing. Probably in liability or personal injury. Oh, and be sure to tell him it is for me, and it’s personal, not company related. I don’t want his ass getting so tight about the company that he can’t think straight.”
It was time for Robby to wage war, and my day got considerably brighter.
--------------------
When I got home, I was surprised to find dinner nearly ready, and Wendy wearing a comfy set of pajamas and slippers. When she heard me enter, she came to greet me and smiled, giving me a kiss and then told me to hurry and change, because dinner would be ready. We were having chicken parmigiana, which I always enjoyed. Once we were seated and beginning to eat, I had to ask.
“So how was your day, Dear?”
She laughed a little at that.
“Well, for someone on administrative leave, I spent most of the day on the phone. It seems I have set off a bit of an explosion. It seems three or four other girls came forward just in my department, one of them being Maureen, who is also married, and definitely pregnant. She has to do the paternity test because the rumor is she doesn’t know who the father is, and it could be Du’Shaun. But the real big deal is that it could be Mr. William’s child as well. He is Du’Shaun’s boss. The shit is really hitting the fan on the sales side. It seems those guys have been bedding every pair of boobs walking, and evidently, they have some sort of list or something.”
“A list? Of what?”
“Of girls to screw. Along with a ranking. The word is that this list has points on it for each girl they managed to get in bed, or on the desk, or whatever. Jill said I am number 4 on the list, but I think some of it is more political. Mrs. Thomas is highest, but she is the CEO’s wife, and she’s about fifty.”
I frowned thoughtfully. “Well… I’m not sure if I should be flattered or angry.”
“Yeah, welcome to the club. What’s even more annoying is that these guys gave it even more thought. They have a scoring multiplier based on where it happens. For example. I am ranked number four, so I have an inverse multiplier of 25, to equal 100 points, times that of the location score of where it happens. So, if I am bedded in my office, I am worth 250 points. But if I am with one of the sales guys on the main conference table during a video conference, I am worth something like 12 billion points.”
I sat back in my chair as I chewed my very delicious dinner and had to think about this. It was almost like an organized crime racket.
“So, what happens now? What are they doing to the men?”
“I don’t know.” Wendy shrugged. “But it isn’t going to be good. Two guys immediately submitted their resignations. Du’Shaun was summoned to HR as well, though I hear an attorney was also in the room.”
“Yeah, that figures. Covering their ass. Didn’t you say he was popular with the company or something?” I snorted.
“Yep. He’s going to come out of this squeaky clean, somehow, just you watch. What worries me is what he will say about me. How badly is my reputation going to get hurt.”
I shook my head and reached out to rub her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about that, Wen. If need be, just resign. We can afford to live on my salary for a good while until you figure out your next steps. What’s more important is the calendar and nature. We still need to discuss that.”
My wife looked at me, and then shook her head.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She began carefully. “I’m not sure I can get an abortion. It isn’t about you, and it certainly isn’t about Du’Shaun. But it’s about my conscience. I don’t know if I can do it. I’m sorry.”
Tears began to leak from her eyes at that point. Wisdom, which comes from making mistakes, told me not to press her when she was crying. The outcomes were never good. So, I just rubbed her back as best I could and let the subject drop for the moment. Who knew? It might all be for nothing anyway. I hoped…
----------------------
The next few days were pretty much the same thing, only I could tell That my wife was getting bored. Watching television wasn’t very mentally stimulating, or even upsetting, given the propaganda being vomited on the so-called “news” and other programing. She kept getting her daily phone calls, until that Friday, when I came home early from work. Wendy was being the very best girl and wife she could be, and she needed to get out, but she hadn’t gotten her phone call. It was approaching four o’clock, and Happy Hour, and I wanted to take her out to dinner, and have some quality time with her. So, I told her screw it, let’s go.
She threw on a Sundress and sandals, and brushed her hair, and then we left. Shortly after, we were seated int eh bar area of a restaurant, munching snacks and nursing margaritas when her phone rang. The look on her face was blushing and embarrassed.
“Look, I’m sorry. I waited and waited, but my husband said it was time to leave…”
She then paused while she listened.
“Yes, I know... Yes… Yes… Okay… Yes, I know the-…”
I was getting annoyed myself now. I snatched the phone from her hand, an angry stare in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, who is this bothering my wife?”
The voice on the other end was a rather supercilious and rather self-important woman.
“I am Dawn, the HR director’s executive administrative assistant, I’ll have you know. You have no…”
“I don’t give a flying fuck who the Hell you think you are, but right now you are inches from death by my fist pulling your vagina through your mouth. If you ever treat my wife like that again, I will personally come down there and kick your ass so hard you have to walk on all fours. You got that, Bitch?”
She was suddenly stammering.
“Sir... you do not have the right to…”
“Bitch, I will call you whatever I feel like. My name is Robert, and I am Wendy’s husband. She is here with me, and my insistence as her husband. I have taken my wife out on a date, as I am legally entitled to. So, you can inform your boss that unless he wants to be named in a lawsuit for workplace harassment, loss of consortium and whatever else I can think of, you best quit while you are behind. While you are at it, you can also change your goddamn attitude. If you ever speak to me like that again, I will personally come to your desk, take the leg of your chair, and break it off in your ass! Is there any part of this you do not understand?”
With that, I simply disconnected the call and handed her phone back, grousing how she was too stupid to live and muttering how grateful that fucking cunt should be to still be breathing.
“Jeez, Honey… I think you just got me fired.” Wendy expressed in astonishment.
I gave a thoughtful frown and shook my head.
“Nah. Amanda did a great job and found us great counsel. Once I explained the situation to her, she got a little irate at Du’Shaun and your company as well. She gave me a bunch of magic words to say, and on Monday I will let her know about this call you just received. You’re Teflon right now. Nothing is going to stick to you. Especially Tuesday, when she and I go over there.”
-------------------
Tuesday never happened.
Wendy called me at work and asked if I could come home at lunch. So, walking in just before, I saw her seated with three people, two men and a woman. The men were the Vice-President of the entire company, the Human Resources Director, and the woman was an IT manager. After shaking hands, my comment was simple.
“Why are you people in my house?” Direct, to the point, and setting the tone that the man of the house and King of His castle was not amused.
“Sir…” It was the VP speaking. “I wanted to be the first to apologize for the things that have happened. Obviously, we have not been taking some of our responsibilities as seriously as we should have, and that includes how we treat our employees…”
“And their families…” the HR Director butted in.
I could not help but smile at that. Evidently some Executive Administrative Assistant had gotten not only butt-hurt at my diatribe, but also gotten her ass reamed by whomever she told, presumably this guy. They were in serious damage-control mode now. I could recognize it, because I have been involved with screw-ups in my own company.
The rest of the discussion went pretty much as I expected. Apologies, and so on, but with one surprise, which explained the IT woman. The company issued Wendy a laptop and all of the credentialing she needed to begin working again. Their logic was that the projects she was working on needed her, and since they were paying her anyway, she might as well get something accomplished.
When they left, I turned to my wife, and smiled.
“I told you. Teflon, babe. Teflon…”
To be continued.
My Wife's Dating Troubles- Ch. 4, The Finale`
Author’s Note:
This has been an interesting foray into writing in this viewpoint. It also ended in a completely different manner than the original concept. I wanted to thank all my readers for their input and kind suggestions. Suffice it to say that it may be a while before I write in this viewpoint again, but it has been a good exercise.
I am grateful for your support!
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When I came home from work, I found Wendy’s laptop in the kitchen, on and set for emails, yet I couldn’t find her. Looking around, I finally located her upstairs, going through her closet. Her drawers were already gone through, evidently, as there were a couple of small piles of clothing and her one open drawer was suddenly immaculately arranged. My wife had always liked a well-kept house, but this was a little more than I would expect.
“Hey... I’m home!”
She pulled her head from the closet, holding a few garments on hangers. She smiled and came to me and gave me a delicious kiss and then looked about.
Hi, Honey! Yeah... don’t ask. I am still getting bored, as I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I can only process so many emails in a day. Right now, things are pretty caught up at work. My team is stuck waiting on a contract negotiation that Du’Shaun and his guys are working on.”
“Wait... Du’Shaun is still at work?”
She lay the clothes she had out on the bed reached for me, and wrapped me in her arms.
“Don’t sweat it. I am getting paid and so is he. Only I am not doing all the daily crap he has to. I am finally realizing this is more of a vacation. Though I am still getting my daily call on the landline.” She then grunted. “Miss High and Mighty got a new attitude issued to her because she wasn’t her Wicked Witch old self. I talked to my trainee, and she said that she has been suitably disciplined. She doesn’t even try and assert her self-rightful place in the break room anymore. She just stays at her desk. Couldn’t happen to a nicer person, if you ask me.”
“So, what exactly are you doing?”
“Oh, so far, just catching up on e-mails and reviewing my docs for final submission. That and a lot of calcs to make sure I didn’t screw up the harmonics on a new bridge we are in the latter stages on.”
I raised my hand.
“Sorry, I asked the wrong question. What are you doing here in the bedroom, with all of your clothes?”
She looked over and blushed a little.
“Oh, that. Well… I figured since I had time, and it has been something that has been bugging me, I thought I would go through everything and see what still fit and what I could give to a donation station. Maybe help someone less fortunate?”
“Ah, a good idea. Do you want a fashion critic?”
She grinned.
“Hardly. You’ve seen every one of these outfits. It is just a ‘does it fit or not’ idea. I am even going to put on my wedding dress. It takes up a lot of room, and I’ll check it, and if everything is good, I’ll get it cleaned and boxed. If not? Well, you and I will discuss it. I have mixed feelings since you took my flower in it.”
She smiled and blushed as she ended. I wasn’t naïve, I knew she had been with another man before me or men. Plus, that first time we made love in a shed behind her parent’s house. Not that she was overly kinky that I knew of, but she wasn’t a virgin, though, on our wedding night, she asked me to treat her like my virgin bride. It was a nice little gift she gave me to make our wedding night more memorable.
“Don’t worry, Honey, we’ll figure it out. I’m gonna change and let’s grab dinner?”
-------------------
The next day I had a meeting scheduled with our attorney, so I left work early and was on my way to meet at her office when she had her assistant contact me to cancel. It seemed she was stuck in court on another trial. No big deal. It allowed me to go home, put my feet up and relax. Who knew, maybe I could even get some quality time with Wendy!
I walked in the door heard some heavy steps upstairs, and furrowed my brows. I heard her voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. So, I went upstairs and found her in our bedroom, but I was shocked into an immobile silence. My eyes simply had to be lying to me!
My beautiful wife was looking resplendent in her wedding gown, complete with satin opera gloves and veil! I was fairly sure she had put on makeup. But the real shocker was that she wasn’t alone. She was being manhandled by a large black guy, and from her description, it had to be Du’Shaun. I was so dumbfounded I didn’t know what to do. He was very literally the last person I ever expected to see in my house, let alone my bedroom. I saw Wendy’s hand being held down on the dresser by his very dark, nearly black fingers, and his free hand was pulling at her wedding ring!
“No! Dammit! Don’t do this! This is my wedding ring! You can’t do this! Stop it!”
Her ring, the one I swore my oath to as she allowed me to place it on her finger, was slid from her gloved third finger, and he dropped it aside, and then pulled another from the dresser and began to force it on in its place.
“Bitch, I am taking you for my wife, and I don’t give a shit who you love. You are mine, now!”
His fingers had little difficulty sliding it in place, as I guess it was a bit too big, but it sparkled brightly over her extended finger.
“No! Du’Shaun! No! I am not your wife!”
Her words were cut off as he simply hefted her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, our bed, and as she bounced on it, coming to a stop in the middle, he clambered aboard and began to lift the satin and petticoat layers until her legs and pelvis were exposed to him. From my angle, I also got a decent look, and she was again wearing her bridal lingerie, only without her panties.
“Du’Shuan! Stop it!” She tried to push him off as he moved into position to mount her as if she were some prize and plunder.
It was then I noticed his cock. It was hard as a rock and pushing twice as thick as mine, and at least three inches bigger. I also got to look at the first uncircumcised penis I had ever seen. But what I couldn’t help but also notice was the small spurts of what must be pre-cum. I couldn’t get a great look at his balls, but from what I did see, he had to have extra-large eggs down there.
“I put my ring on your finger, and now I am about to consummate our marriage. I am going to make you mine, and if you get pregnant, then I am legally entitled by my country to take you home with me to Cameroon. You will become my bride and live with me and my ****** as I put many of my babies in you!”
It was then I heard her cry out, my eyes diverted to what I could see of her face between the fluff of the dress and her bridal veil covering her. She looked like she was in real anguish, but somehow, in my mind, I doubted this was even remotely real. But through it all, I could not bring myself to move. I was standing here, watching my fate worse than death soap opera with all of the attendant drama, yet I could do nothing. Neither of them notices me, but in a dark grey shirt and black pants, I wouldn’t stand out anyway.
Her back arched as she felt his cock begin to open her, and then his hips adjusted and as she lifted her arms to try and fight him off, I could not help but see the new ring on her finger. Bright, shiny, and perhaps twice the size of the diamond I gave her for our engagement, which was a ring interwoven with her wedding band. She cried out repeatedly, in time with his thrusts, as he was forcing her to take every fraction of an inch of his manhood into her until she was impaled by his black spear. He held her by the wrists and pulled them over her head as he lay atop her, and then started to cycle his hips up and down, moving his cock inside my wife’s married pussy.
The motions made her begin to mew in time with his prowess, and he soon was playing her soft voice like a fine musical instrument, making her mewl, whine, whimper, moan, and cry out in the throes of passion as he made love to her. He kissed her through her veils, and then used a hand to lift the veil from her face and lewdly kissed her, his tongue darting in and out of her lips repeatedly. It was a kiss she did not try and hinder, and her tongue began caressing his. Leaving her arms over her head, she had signaled to him, and unknowingly to me, that she was a goner. She was his. At least for this time in her life, he had conquered his damsel in distress.
I didn’t need to see any more of this. I turned and quietly made my way out and drove to the nearest bar and proceeded to get hammered.
----------------
I don’t know how I got home. I don’t know how long it had been, because it was now dark. I don’t remember much after hitting the bar and the bottle, with four quick shots of Kentucky whiskey, but I remember stumbling upstairs. The lights were off, and as I entered the bedroom, I heard Wendy crying. I clicked the light on, and she looked at me, and I looked at her. She was a mess, with evidence of sex everywhere, and her makeup destroyed, though her veil was no longer in her hair. Her wedding gown was in disarray, to put it mildly, and she had tear streaks down her face. I could smell the mix of her scent and his cum in the room. He had taken her more than once, from the look of things.
She simply looked up at me and then held up a slender plastic stick to me in her gloved hand, the one still wearing his ring on her third finger.
“Honey. I’m pregnant.”
I threw up on the carpet.
-------------------------
I woke up on the couch, with a migraine that would derail a freight train. Somehow, I was covered with a blanket and my shoes were off. Otherwise, I had slept in my clothes. Very gingerly, I sat up, keeping my eyes closed because the very thought of opening them hurt. I heard footsteps approach, and they stopped in front of me. In a soft, quiet, soothing voice, Wendy spoke gently.
“Here… take these. They will help.”
She placed three tablets in my hand, which I slowly popped into my mouth, and then felt a bottle of water placed in my fingers to swig them down with. I wound up draining the bottle, despite Wendy asking me to slow down and take it easy.
“What time is it?”
“Quarter to ten, Honey.”
Her words almost bolted me upright, before her hands on me put me back down.
“Relax, Honey, I called in sick for you. You are in no shape to walk, let alone drive or go to work. You look awful.”
“Thanks. That is how I feel.”
I heard the sounds of my wife sitting on the coffee table in front of me. Her hand held mine.
“Honey. I learned you saw us yesterday. Will you talk about it with me? It wasn’t like it looked.”
I dared to open one eye and didn’t die from it, so I opened the other.
“What the fuck was he doing in our house?”
“It wasn’t me; I promise. I was in the middle of going through my clothes like I told you. I had my dress on and was just fitting on my veil. I was nostalgic for our wedding day, so I decided to do myself up for you. I had planned on taking some selfies and texting them to you hoping you would come home early. Then I remembered you were meeting with the lawyer, so I gave up on that and was just about to get changed when the doorbell rang.”
“And you just answered the door, just like that?”
She shrugged.
“Well… yeah. It would take me an easy twenty minutes to get undressed, and so I just put on my heels and went to the door. I nearly broke my neck coming down the stairs, though. I’m glad I hadn’t put on my bridal cape yet.”
I remembered that garment. It was pure white satin inside and out, with a hood to protect her hair. It was huge, too. It completely enveloped her, and I only saw it on her in her bridal photos taken before our ceremony. She hadn’t worn it since, that I was aware of.
“So, what happened?”
“Well, it was him. He was a bit angry, as I guess the shit hit the fan on him after we had our meeting with the vice president the other day. He was yelling and everything, and so to keep the disturbance quiet I brought him inside. He was royally pissed because they were either going to transfer him or fire him, they weren’t sure yet, but he was suspended, without pay until they sorted it all out. Frankly, I think he just needed someone to be mad at. So, he wanted to blame me for his troubles.”
“Wait, so he was blaming you for his ****** you, to begin with?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Then he realized what I was wearing and I tried to explain to him why, but he was more interested in hurting me, so that is when he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder and carried me upstairs. He threw me on the bed, and as I got off, he had gotten naked and then attacked me again. He slapped me across the face and then he grabbed my hand and was tearing my wedding ring off, and he then forced another one on my finger, trying to tell me he was going to make me his wife.”
“Yeah. I saw that part.”
I think I could not have shocked her more if I had struck her myself.
“You saw? How much?”
“I saw him take your ring off, and then from then on until he was fucking you. I noticed you didn’t fight him very much.” There was some acid in my voice.
“Honey. I love you, and I didn’t give myself to him. You have to believe me. He ***** me, just like the other times. But like the other times, he also has a way with him. Or with me. I can’t stop him, once he gets started. It is like he just takes over and uses his cock in me like a weapon. He just makes me feel things that you can’t, and nobody else ever has, either. It is just something about him. I don’t know.”
She started to weep some tears, and I could hear a hurt in her voice. I realized, belatedly, that she was feeling worse, while I, on the other hand, was beginning to feel better. But now I was at a crossroads. I was now hurt, and yet she was hurt. But I could not undo the damage, because I had not caused it. I also believed her story. It made sense, after what I had witnessed. The man was well-built, and his cock certainly made a mockery of mine. He had an almost crushing masculinity about him, and when he managed to get her in bed the first time, his cock took control of her from there. I didn’t like it, but it was where things stood.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked.
“Well... I don’t know exactly. I feel I have to tell him I am pregnant. He deserves to know. If he has some way to prevent me from having an abortion, then we need to get our attorney to get child support from him. But that is a double-edged sword. If he pays child support, then he also gets visitation rights. He may already get them without it. Which means for the next 18 years, he will be a part of our lives. I imagine he would also be wanting to screw me every chance he got.”
I simply grunted. Her logical mind was, as usual, impeccable in her thought processes. The problem was I could not force her to get an abortion. It was her decision and only her decision.
“What about the Plan B pill?”
“Won’t work, honey. I would have needed to take that after every time he had sex with me.” She shook her head. “Frankly, I wasn’t thinking that part through. I was still in shock after what happened. Though it is too late, of course.”
“Is there any chance at all that the test is wrong?”
She shook her head.
“I wish. I took three of them, all from different manufacturers. I got the same result each time. Based on the timetable I came up with, I got pregnant that very first night, or certainly on that second night.”
“No shit, Wendy.”
“Sorry, Honey. Please… I understand you are hurt and in shock. But please look at it from my perspective. I am the one that is having a baby. Or not having a baby. I don’t know. And you know how much I don’t like an ‘I don’t know’. One way or another, my life is now truly fucked. If I have the baby, I will become the mother of his child and will see him for the next eighteen years, whether I want to or not. I can’t move, I can’t take a transfer, I can’t even take a vacation! I am legally required to have his permission to travel with the baby. That doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface about you. I mean, I feel so bad that I got you involved in the first place. I know I should have just listened to you and done it your way from the beginning. I screwed this up. I thought I could handle him, and instead, he handled me.”
I sat there, listening. I could see the pain in her eyes. She was truly in a bad position. I could see things from her perspective, now that she had laid them out for me.
“What about this Cameroon thing?”
“Oh. You heard that?” She shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t know that, either. I just know I can’t find my wedding ring. I think you left, based on what you are saying, after the first time.”
I shook my head and let it fall to the side. “The first time? Again?”
She looked sheepish and even ashamed.
“Yeah. After he was done the first time, he just rolled off and lay next to me, and I was stuck to him since he was lying on my dress. He started to tease me again, and made me orgasm, all the while teasing me with what he was going to do. He boasted he was going to take me from you and make me go to his ******, as you heard. I don’t want to go.” Her voice started to crack, and then the tears came.
I let her fall forward onto my shoulder and we hugged as she cried, my tears forming, too. Her crying turned into ugly crying, and I only had my dress shirt for her to use, but I let her use it to wipe her nose, blow her nose, or whatever she needed. Her chest was heaving and her body was wracked with the heavy expression of sadness and fear. The shirt had been expensive, costing almost fifty dollars, but right then, it was cheap in comparison to what we were facing. There was no doubt her emotions were real. The damsel in distress was in real trouble, now, and I could do nothing to save her.
--------------------------
You gotta’ love attorneys. They are full of magic words, but they are expensive ones. I had two principal problems. Abortion and Emigration. Would my wife be able to get one, and would she be required to go to Cameroon? The answer to both was ‘it depends’. Yeah, no shit, like I couldn’t have figured that one out by myself. It would all depend on a meeting with Du’Shaun. It would be a meeting I would attend, along with our lawyer. That would be next week.
In the meantime, I had to go back to work, though I wasn’t getting much done, and Amanda was keeping my door closed most of the time. Every day Wendy had to stay home and try and focus on her work, as well as deal with her health and her fate. But the biggest problem became between us.
“Honey? What’s wrong? I used to have to brace myself. Are you okay?”
We were laying in our marital bed, the same bed Du’Shaun ***** my wife in repeatedly, I later learned. With fresh sheets, mattress pad, and pillows, there was no lingering scent of him, but the memory and my mind’s eye were getting in the way.
I had just given up trying to make love with my wife for the fifth day in a row. Despite her being ready, willing, and wanting, I could not get an erection to save my life. She even took to wearing fancy lingerie for me, and yet I could do nothing. At best, if was less soft, and all I could focus on was how small I was compared to her baby-daddy. The black man who ***** his baby into my wife.
“I’m sorry. It is just an image I can’t get out of my head.”
“What’s that?”
“How much bigger he is than I am, and how you reacted to him compared to how you have been with me.”
“Robby, you are my husband, and I love you. I don’t love him. Hell, I don’t even want him. I want you. I wish that first night had never happened. But when he fucks me, it is just that, fucking. When it is you and me, it is making love, the most precious thing I can enjoy. You make my heart soar! When everything is right, we’ll be fine, I promise.” She ended with a kiss and then snuggled in.
--------------------------
The meeting finally came and we were all in attendance. Myself in a full business suit, Wendy in her go-to-war ladies’ suit, and our attorney. Du’Shaun, and what I could only call his entourage, showed up late, leaving us waiting, and he had the unmitigated gall to kiss my wife in front of all of us!
“How’s the mother of my child and new wife doing?” he asked as he took a seat.
I had never been a big believer in the need for guns, but suddenly, I would have gleefully shot him in the head. My wife and the attorney both placed their hands on my forearms to keep me quiet as I just shot a death stare at him. Wendy just looked uncomfortable for the whole time.
Our attorney stated our position, that we wanted an abortion, and never to see him again. Seemed simple enough. But that isn’t what we got. His legal team, as of three lawyers and a para-legal produced sheaves of papers, all nicely bound, and forwarded them to us. Their demands were quite the opposite. They wanted a full-term delivery of the baby and full-parental rights, they wanted Wendy in Cameroon so they could ensure she did not try and leave, and worst of all, where they were concerned, they would settle for a two-state marriage. She was my wife here, and his wife in Cameroon, with legal proceedings to follow in Cameroon to settle the marriage problem. I damn near exploded.
What was most telling, however, was that Wendy was still wearing his ring, a detail I had stopped paying attention to. I had assumed when I left for work the next day, that she would continue looking for her wedding ring. She may have, but I never followed up on it. Instead, she took his ring and wound some string around the bottom to tighten it up so it stayed on more securely. When their lawyers brought that up, my eyes and that of my lawyer snapped to her finger, and sure as shit, there it was. They took that as our true position, or hers at least, that she wished to be married to Du’Shaun and live as his wife, with all of the attending duties and obligations thereof, etc.
The rest of the story was pretty short and to the point. I lost, and I suppose so did Wendy. I lost my wife, and she lost her freedom. She left for Cameroon just over six weeks later. I tried to visit her but was turned away in Cameroon. Two months later, I was served with divorce papers. I kept it amicable. Pretty much a 50/50 split on assets, though we each kept our retirements. I heard she had a healthy black child, a boy. She got a settlement from her company and voluntarily resigned in good standing. I got to move into an apartment and try and put my life back together while she was getting officially married to the man who ***** her. My last information was she now had three black babies, two boys, and a girl. She hasn’t been back to the country, since.
“So that’s my story, and given everything, are you still willing to continue dating me?”
I was asking this of the buxom brunette I had met on a dating app. This was our third date. Would she give me a fourth?
This has been an interesting foray into writing in this viewpoint. It also ended in a completely different manner than the original concept. I wanted to thank all my readers for their input and kind suggestions. Suffice it to say that it may be a while before I write in this viewpoint again, but it has been a good exercise.
I am grateful for your support!
--------------------------
When I came home from work, I found Wendy’s laptop in the kitchen, on and set for emails, yet I couldn’t find her. Looking around, I finally located her upstairs, going through her closet. Her drawers were already gone through, evidently, as there were a couple of small piles of clothing and her one open drawer was suddenly immaculately arranged. My wife had always liked a well-kept house, but this was a little more than I would expect.
“Hey... I’m home!”
She pulled her head from the closet, holding a few garments on hangers. She smiled and came to me and gave me a delicious kiss and then looked about.
Hi, Honey! Yeah... don’t ask. I am still getting bored, as I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I can only process so many emails in a day. Right now, things are pretty caught up at work. My team is stuck waiting on a contract negotiation that Du’Shaun and his guys are working on.”
“Wait... Du’Shaun is still at work?”
She lay the clothes she had out on the bed reached for me, and wrapped me in her arms.
“Don’t sweat it. I am getting paid and so is he. Only I am not doing all the daily crap he has to. I am finally realizing this is more of a vacation. Though I am still getting my daily call on the landline.” She then grunted. “Miss High and Mighty got a new attitude issued to her because she wasn’t her Wicked Witch old self. I talked to my trainee, and she said that she has been suitably disciplined. She doesn’t even try and assert her self-rightful place in the break room anymore. She just stays at her desk. Couldn’t happen to a nicer person, if you ask me.”
“So, what exactly are you doing?”
“Oh, so far, just catching up on e-mails and reviewing my docs for final submission. That and a lot of calcs to make sure I didn’t screw up the harmonics on a new bridge we are in the latter stages on.”
I raised my hand.
“Sorry, I asked the wrong question. What are you doing here in the bedroom, with all of your clothes?”
She looked over and blushed a little.
“Oh, that. Well… I figured since I had time, and it has been something that has been bugging me, I thought I would go through everything and see what still fit and what I could give to a donation station. Maybe help someone less fortunate?”
“Ah, a good idea. Do you want a fashion critic?”
She grinned.
“Hardly. You’ve seen every one of these outfits. It is just a ‘does it fit or not’ idea. I am even going to put on my wedding dress. It takes up a lot of room, and I’ll check it, and if everything is good, I’ll get it cleaned and boxed. If not? Well, you and I will discuss it. I have mixed feelings since you took my flower in it.”
She smiled and blushed as she ended. I wasn’t naïve, I knew she had been with another man before me or men. Plus, that first time we made love in a shed behind her parent’s house. Not that she was overly kinky that I knew of, but she wasn’t a virgin, though, on our wedding night, she asked me to treat her like my virgin bride. It was a nice little gift she gave me to make our wedding night more memorable.
“Don’t worry, Honey, we’ll figure it out. I’m gonna change and let’s grab dinner?”
-------------------
The next day I had a meeting scheduled with our attorney, so I left work early and was on my way to meet at her office when she had her assistant contact me to cancel. It seemed she was stuck in court on another trial. No big deal. It allowed me to go home, put my feet up and relax. Who knew, maybe I could even get some quality time with Wendy!
I walked in the door heard some heavy steps upstairs, and furrowed my brows. I heard her voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. So, I went upstairs and found her in our bedroom, but I was shocked into an immobile silence. My eyes simply had to be lying to me!
My beautiful wife was looking resplendent in her wedding gown, complete with satin opera gloves and veil! I was fairly sure she had put on makeup. But the real shocker was that she wasn’t alone. She was being manhandled by a large black guy, and from her description, it had to be Du’Shaun. I was so dumbfounded I didn’t know what to do. He was very literally the last person I ever expected to see in my house, let alone my bedroom. I saw Wendy’s hand being held down on the dresser by his very dark, nearly black fingers, and his free hand was pulling at her wedding ring!
“No! Dammit! Don’t do this! This is my wedding ring! You can’t do this! Stop it!”
Her ring, the one I swore my oath to as she allowed me to place it on her finger, was slid from her gloved third finger, and he dropped it aside, and then pulled another from the dresser and began to force it on in its place.
“Bitch, I am taking you for my wife, and I don’t give a shit who you love. You are mine, now!”
His fingers had little difficulty sliding it in place, as I guess it was a bit too big, but it sparkled brightly over her extended finger.
“No! Du’Shaun! No! I am not your wife!”
Her words were cut off as he simply hefted her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, our bed, and as she bounced on it, coming to a stop in the middle, he clambered aboard and began to lift the satin and petticoat layers until her legs and pelvis were exposed to him. From my angle, I also got a decent look, and she was again wearing her bridal lingerie, only without her panties.
“Du’Shuan! Stop it!” She tried to push him off as he moved into position to mount her as if she were some prize and plunder.
It was then I noticed his cock. It was hard as a rock and pushing twice as thick as mine, and at least three inches bigger. I also got to look at the first uncircumcised penis I had ever seen. But what I couldn’t help but also notice was the small spurts of what must be pre-cum. I couldn’t get a great look at his balls, but from what I did see, he had to have extra-large eggs down there.
“I put my ring on your finger, and now I am about to consummate our marriage. I am going to make you mine, and if you get pregnant, then I am legally entitled by my country to take you home with me to Cameroon. You will become my bride and live with me and my ****** as I put many of my babies in you!”
It was then I heard her cry out, my eyes diverted to what I could see of her face between the fluff of the dress and her bridal veil covering her. She looked like she was in real anguish, but somehow, in my mind, I doubted this was even remotely real. But through it all, I could not bring myself to move. I was standing here, watching my fate worse than death soap opera with all of the attendant drama, yet I could do nothing. Neither of them notices me, but in a dark grey shirt and black pants, I wouldn’t stand out anyway.
Her back arched as she felt his cock begin to open her, and then his hips adjusted and as she lifted her arms to try and fight him off, I could not help but see the new ring on her finger. Bright, shiny, and perhaps twice the size of the diamond I gave her for our engagement, which was a ring interwoven with her wedding band. She cried out repeatedly, in time with his thrusts, as he was forcing her to take every fraction of an inch of his manhood into her until she was impaled by his black spear. He held her by the wrists and pulled them over her head as he lay atop her, and then started to cycle his hips up and down, moving his cock inside my wife’s married pussy.
The motions made her begin to mew in time with his prowess, and he soon was playing her soft voice like a fine musical instrument, making her mewl, whine, whimper, moan, and cry out in the throes of passion as he made love to her. He kissed her through her veils, and then used a hand to lift the veil from her face and lewdly kissed her, his tongue darting in and out of her lips repeatedly. It was a kiss she did not try and hinder, and her tongue began caressing his. Leaving her arms over her head, she had signaled to him, and unknowingly to me, that she was a goner. She was his. At least for this time in her life, he had conquered his damsel in distress.
I didn’t need to see any more of this. I turned and quietly made my way out and drove to the nearest bar and proceeded to get hammered.
----------------
I don’t know how I got home. I don’t know how long it had been, because it was now dark. I don’t remember much after hitting the bar and the bottle, with four quick shots of Kentucky whiskey, but I remember stumbling upstairs. The lights were off, and as I entered the bedroom, I heard Wendy crying. I clicked the light on, and she looked at me, and I looked at her. She was a mess, with evidence of sex everywhere, and her makeup destroyed, though her veil was no longer in her hair. Her wedding gown was in disarray, to put it mildly, and she had tear streaks down her face. I could smell the mix of her scent and his cum in the room. He had taken her more than once, from the look of things.
She simply looked up at me and then held up a slender plastic stick to me in her gloved hand, the one still wearing his ring on her third finger.
“Honey. I’m pregnant.”
I threw up on the carpet.
-------------------------
I woke up on the couch, with a migraine that would derail a freight train. Somehow, I was covered with a blanket and my shoes were off. Otherwise, I had slept in my clothes. Very gingerly, I sat up, keeping my eyes closed because the very thought of opening them hurt. I heard footsteps approach, and they stopped in front of me. In a soft, quiet, soothing voice, Wendy spoke gently.
“Here… take these. They will help.”
She placed three tablets in my hand, which I slowly popped into my mouth, and then felt a bottle of water placed in my fingers to swig them down with. I wound up draining the bottle, despite Wendy asking me to slow down and take it easy.
“What time is it?”
“Quarter to ten, Honey.”
Her words almost bolted me upright, before her hands on me put me back down.
“Relax, Honey, I called in sick for you. You are in no shape to walk, let alone drive or go to work. You look awful.”
“Thanks. That is how I feel.”
I heard the sounds of my wife sitting on the coffee table in front of me. Her hand held mine.
“Honey. I learned you saw us yesterday. Will you talk about it with me? It wasn’t like it looked.”
I dared to open one eye and didn’t die from it, so I opened the other.
“What the fuck was he doing in our house?”
“It wasn’t me; I promise. I was in the middle of going through my clothes like I told you. I had my dress on and was just fitting on my veil. I was nostalgic for our wedding day, so I decided to do myself up for you. I had planned on taking some selfies and texting them to you hoping you would come home early. Then I remembered you were meeting with the lawyer, so I gave up on that and was just about to get changed when the doorbell rang.”
“And you just answered the door, just like that?”
She shrugged.
“Well… yeah. It would take me an easy twenty minutes to get undressed, and so I just put on my heels and went to the door. I nearly broke my neck coming down the stairs, though. I’m glad I hadn’t put on my bridal cape yet.”
I remembered that garment. It was pure white satin inside and out, with a hood to protect her hair. It was huge, too. It completely enveloped her, and I only saw it on her in her bridal photos taken before our ceremony. She hadn’t worn it since, that I was aware of.
“So, what happened?”
“Well, it was him. He was a bit angry, as I guess the shit hit the fan on him after we had our meeting with the vice president the other day. He was yelling and everything, and so to keep the disturbance quiet I brought him inside. He was royally pissed because they were either going to transfer him or fire him, they weren’t sure yet, but he was suspended, without pay until they sorted it all out. Frankly, I think he just needed someone to be mad at. So, he wanted to blame me for his troubles.”
“Wait, so he was blaming you for his ****** you, to begin with?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Then he realized what I was wearing and I tried to explain to him why, but he was more interested in hurting me, so that is when he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder and carried me upstairs. He threw me on the bed, and as I got off, he had gotten naked and then attacked me again. He slapped me across the face and then he grabbed my hand and was tearing my wedding ring off, and he then forced another one on my finger, trying to tell me he was going to make me his wife.”
“Yeah. I saw that part.”
I think I could not have shocked her more if I had struck her myself.
“You saw? How much?”
“I saw him take your ring off, and then from then on until he was fucking you. I noticed you didn’t fight him very much.” There was some acid in my voice.
“Honey. I love you, and I didn’t give myself to him. You have to believe me. He ***** me, just like the other times. But like the other times, he also has a way with him. Or with me. I can’t stop him, once he gets started. It is like he just takes over and uses his cock in me like a weapon. He just makes me feel things that you can’t, and nobody else ever has, either. It is just something about him. I don’t know.”
She started to weep some tears, and I could hear a hurt in her voice. I realized, belatedly, that she was feeling worse, while I, on the other hand, was beginning to feel better. But now I was at a crossroads. I was now hurt, and yet she was hurt. But I could not undo the damage, because I had not caused it. I also believed her story. It made sense, after what I had witnessed. The man was well-built, and his cock certainly made a mockery of mine. He had an almost crushing masculinity about him, and when he managed to get her in bed the first time, his cock took control of her from there. I didn’t like it, but it was where things stood.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked.
“Well... I don’t know exactly. I feel I have to tell him I am pregnant. He deserves to know. If he has some way to prevent me from having an abortion, then we need to get our attorney to get child support from him. But that is a double-edged sword. If he pays child support, then he also gets visitation rights. He may already get them without it. Which means for the next 18 years, he will be a part of our lives. I imagine he would also be wanting to screw me every chance he got.”
I simply grunted. Her logical mind was, as usual, impeccable in her thought processes. The problem was I could not force her to get an abortion. It was her decision and only her decision.
“What about the Plan B pill?”
“Won’t work, honey. I would have needed to take that after every time he had sex with me.” She shook her head. “Frankly, I wasn’t thinking that part through. I was still in shock after what happened. Though it is too late, of course.”
“Is there any chance at all that the test is wrong?”
She shook her head.
“I wish. I took three of them, all from different manufacturers. I got the same result each time. Based on the timetable I came up with, I got pregnant that very first night, or certainly on that second night.”
“No shit, Wendy.”
“Sorry, Honey. Please… I understand you are hurt and in shock. But please look at it from my perspective. I am the one that is having a baby. Or not having a baby. I don’t know. And you know how much I don’t like an ‘I don’t know’. One way or another, my life is now truly fucked. If I have the baby, I will become the mother of his child and will see him for the next eighteen years, whether I want to or not. I can’t move, I can’t take a transfer, I can’t even take a vacation! I am legally required to have his permission to travel with the baby. That doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface about you. I mean, I feel so bad that I got you involved in the first place. I know I should have just listened to you and done it your way from the beginning. I screwed this up. I thought I could handle him, and instead, he handled me.”
I sat there, listening. I could see the pain in her eyes. She was truly in a bad position. I could see things from her perspective, now that she had laid them out for me.
“What about this Cameroon thing?”
“Oh. You heard that?” She shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t know that, either. I just know I can’t find my wedding ring. I think you left, based on what you are saying, after the first time.”
I shook my head and let it fall to the side. “The first time? Again?”
She looked sheepish and even ashamed.
“Yeah. After he was done the first time, he just rolled off and lay next to me, and I was stuck to him since he was lying on my dress. He started to tease me again, and made me orgasm, all the while teasing me with what he was going to do. He boasted he was going to take me from you and make me go to his ******, as you heard. I don’t want to go.” Her voice started to crack, and then the tears came.
I let her fall forward onto my shoulder and we hugged as she cried, my tears forming, too. Her crying turned into ugly crying, and I only had my dress shirt for her to use, but I let her use it to wipe her nose, blow her nose, or whatever she needed. Her chest was heaving and her body was wracked with the heavy expression of sadness and fear. The shirt had been expensive, costing almost fifty dollars, but right then, it was cheap in comparison to what we were facing. There was no doubt her emotions were real. The damsel in distress was in real trouble, now, and I could do nothing to save her.
--------------------------
You gotta’ love attorneys. They are full of magic words, but they are expensive ones. I had two principal problems. Abortion and Emigration. Would my wife be able to get one, and would she be required to go to Cameroon? The answer to both was ‘it depends’. Yeah, no shit, like I couldn’t have figured that one out by myself. It would all depend on a meeting with Du’Shaun. It would be a meeting I would attend, along with our lawyer. That would be next week.
In the meantime, I had to go back to work, though I wasn’t getting much done, and Amanda was keeping my door closed most of the time. Every day Wendy had to stay home and try and focus on her work, as well as deal with her health and her fate. But the biggest problem became between us.
“Honey? What’s wrong? I used to have to brace myself. Are you okay?”
We were laying in our marital bed, the same bed Du’Shaun ***** my wife in repeatedly, I later learned. With fresh sheets, mattress pad, and pillows, there was no lingering scent of him, but the memory and my mind’s eye were getting in the way.
I had just given up trying to make love with my wife for the fifth day in a row. Despite her being ready, willing, and wanting, I could not get an erection to save my life. She even took to wearing fancy lingerie for me, and yet I could do nothing. At best, if was less soft, and all I could focus on was how small I was compared to her baby-daddy. The black man who ***** his baby into my wife.
“I’m sorry. It is just an image I can’t get out of my head.”
“What’s that?”
“How much bigger he is than I am, and how you reacted to him compared to how you have been with me.”
“Robby, you are my husband, and I love you. I don’t love him. Hell, I don’t even want him. I want you. I wish that first night had never happened. But when he fucks me, it is just that, fucking. When it is you and me, it is making love, the most precious thing I can enjoy. You make my heart soar! When everything is right, we’ll be fine, I promise.” She ended with a kiss and then snuggled in.
--------------------------
The meeting finally came and we were all in attendance. Myself in a full business suit, Wendy in her go-to-war ladies’ suit, and our attorney. Du’Shaun, and what I could only call his entourage, showed up late, leaving us waiting, and he had the unmitigated gall to kiss my wife in front of all of us!
“How’s the mother of my child and new wife doing?” he asked as he took a seat.
I had never been a big believer in the need for guns, but suddenly, I would have gleefully shot him in the head. My wife and the attorney both placed their hands on my forearms to keep me quiet as I just shot a death stare at him. Wendy just looked uncomfortable for the whole time.
Our attorney stated our position, that we wanted an abortion, and never to see him again. Seemed simple enough. But that isn’t what we got. His legal team, as of three lawyers and a para-legal produced sheaves of papers, all nicely bound, and forwarded them to us. Their demands were quite the opposite. They wanted a full-term delivery of the baby and full-parental rights, they wanted Wendy in Cameroon so they could ensure she did not try and leave, and worst of all, where they were concerned, they would settle for a two-state marriage. She was my wife here, and his wife in Cameroon, with legal proceedings to follow in Cameroon to settle the marriage problem. I damn near exploded.
What was most telling, however, was that Wendy was still wearing his ring, a detail I had stopped paying attention to. I had assumed when I left for work the next day, that she would continue looking for her wedding ring. She may have, but I never followed up on it. Instead, she took his ring and wound some string around the bottom to tighten it up so it stayed on more securely. When their lawyers brought that up, my eyes and that of my lawyer snapped to her finger, and sure as shit, there it was. They took that as our true position, or hers at least, that she wished to be married to Du’Shaun and live as his wife, with all of the attending duties and obligations thereof, etc.
The rest of the story was pretty short and to the point. I lost, and I suppose so did Wendy. I lost my wife, and she lost her freedom. She left for Cameroon just over six weeks later. I tried to visit her but was turned away in Cameroon. Two months later, I was served with divorce papers. I kept it amicable. Pretty much a 50/50 split on assets, though we each kept our retirements. I heard she had a healthy black child, a boy. She got a settlement from her company and voluntarily resigned in good standing. I got to move into an apartment and try and put my life back together while she was getting officially married to the man who ***** her. My last information was she now had three black babies, two boys, and a girl. She hasn’t been back to the country, since.
“So that’s my story, and given everything, are you still willing to continue dating me?”
I was asking this of the buxom brunette I had met on a dating app. This was our third date. Would she give me a fourth?
