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?”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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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?”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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