I Love The Smell Of Gunpowder In The Morning

The Loving Marriage of Christie & Jason McTavish

"Ach, gah ayem, uh what...'m sorry!?!" I stuttered in total disbelief.

My face must have been doing one of those comical 'Saaay! Whaaaat?' routines.

George pulled his beer can away from his mouth and repeated himself. I just gaped slack-jaw at him. My overloaded mind, suffering through cascade failure, desperately trying to translate the gibberish coming out from under his mustache.

There was a windy whistle through my ears as I heard "Whaa whaa, whaa Whaa whaa Whaawhaa wha."

Then he paused and looked at me expectantly as though he hadn't just uttered utter nonsense. My mouth must have gone up and down like a grumpy bass but no words would come out. Finally he sighed and slowly repeated himself, again.

"Jason..." Okay, my name. I understood that. "Have you and Christie..." Clearly my wife's name. "Have you two discussed joining our swinger's group? Kathy said she would talk to Christie about joining, to get her opinion."

See, right there! After the words "and Christie". Gibberish. Hecks! & Shucks! There it goes again..... "Whaa whaa, whaa Whaa whaa Whaawhaa wha."

I was now panicking that maybe I was having a stroke. Gollydammit! I'm too young to have to go to a nursing home and be fed babyfood with a plastic spoon.

Hmmm, maybe I would luck out and get me a big-titted darkie nurse who'd be willing to breastfeed me.

More likely, I'd wind up with some gay Filipino caretaker who'd insist on giving me a rectal exam twice a day. That rat bastard wants to make my pooperhole an insie when all my life I have faithfully cherished it as an outsie. He can dang well forget receiving a Christmas tip from me! Hah....them old Hawaiians sure had those darnblasted Filipino's pegged right! Trying to pop my anal cherry, would he!!

Now George was obviously getting exasperated with my sudden medical condition. The son-of-a-beeswax should be on his cell phone calling 911 for an emergency medivac and instead he's waiting expectantly for me to respond with some sort of coherent akweeeseunce, akwesonce, acqueesense.

Hey! Youse donna lick meye spulling? Wehl flatulate youseshelfs! Youd'n hall duh udder anonymousie fuggets woo whyne hagenst te righters on dis sight! An'a flieing figgaroa to hall de illiterated progroommers four spiltczech! Thus ist ME storie end aye'll missspell eny dam whey eye wont. Sew their!

I laid my fishing pole down inside our rented skiff before my shaking hands could drop it into the channel. Then I folded my arms over my knees and laid my head down while trying to remember how to inhale.

Oh, Thank The Lord! Finally I managed to swallow some air past the taste of bile in my throat.

My third wife Christie {I'm her fourth husband} and I, Jason McTavish, had retired last year, here to Flora City, Florida. I thought we were becoming good neighbors and maybe eventually good friends with George Saunders and his wife Kathy. We live a couple of houses apart on the same cul-de-sac off of Flowerscent Avenue by Florabundance Park. In the Floramora Village Association development.

Speaking of which, ain't there some sort of association regulation against group sex? Hockey Pucks! You shoulda seen all the blastdammit paperwork I had to get signed off on to be allowed to put a screen door on the front of our house.

It took two months, going through four applications before the last was deemed acceptable. In addition to having to attend three committee meetings to plead our case. Meanwhile tolerating monthly inspections before receiving final approval. And then, to top it all off, we were only permitted two specific choices in model and color of screen door. One of which is no longer manufactured!

I've seen less regulation at nuclear power plants!

"Jason. Earth to Jason..." I think this stranger/alien/pod-person, pretending to be my neighbor George, was finally losing patience with my stuporfication.

"Come on, buddy. You and Christie have had to at least discussed the subject of sex with other people at some time in your marriage. Jesus H! Neither one of you were virgins in this century!"

Obviously there has been a failure to communicate here. Christie and I had both suffered through excruciatingly painful histories of multiple infidelities by our former spouses.

Christie, with her bimbo deceased husband. And me, with both my slut ex-wives. May all their diseased sex organs decay and fall off! And poison the drinking water used by their rotten shyster rat-lawyers!!

This was one of the important subjects she and I had thoroughly discussed when it became apparent to the both of us that our friendship was becoming a relationship. We talked a lot for that year, fourteen months actually, before we got up the courage to marry one another. And we both verbiously decreed that as for sex outside our coupling, the answer is not no. The only correct answer is, HELL NO!!

I am certain that we have discussed this on numerous occasions with both George and Kathy and the rest of our new neighbors............

...........I could be positive that it is possible that we previously may have said something negative about this subject..............

...........I might be comfortable with asserting that we've probably mentioned our strong objections to the concept at least once or twice..............

................I assume?

I finally snapped.

"George..." I intoned in a baritone growl.

Where the heck did that come from? I've always sung tenor in my church choir.

I leaned forward to make dammit sure he could not only clearly hear me but read my snarling lips "George...If you...or any other...oversexed, overeager, overblown asswipe ever...EVER! Make a pass at Christie! Try to seduce MY wife!......"

I took a deep gulping breath, let it out with a slow whistle, then continued "Go out to the Sheriff's shooting range. Put yourself in front of the targets and practice dodging the bullets!"

George was leaning back, obviously stricken by the vehemence of my words. Or at least to avoid the spittle I was projecting. Every exclamation 'point' got a blink out of his astonished face.

"Cause if you ain't fast enough to evade those sorry ass klanner peckerwood inbreds hanging out there everyday guzzling 'shine and shooting up paper and butt-packing each other behind the outhouse."

I guess now in shock, his face got paler then white.

"Sure as the Fiery Pit!....NONE of YOU!........are fast enough!.............to outrun MY bullets!"

I kept my eyes locked on his, through a very quiet silence. Even the metaphorical falling pin was not heard from. Rhetorically speaking of course.

Finally, wide-eyed, he did a slight nod with his head.

So, I leaned back and deliberately turned my head aside while I picked up my rod and made sure the line wasn't tangled by the whirly-gig rig I was using. Then I made a nice cast across the mass of water-grass to where I knew there was a deep hole eroding into the embankment. I figured the fish would be hiding there from the high noon heat. Turned out to be a good choice, as in the next thirty minutes I pulled out two good size poppa bass. They each weighed in at about eight pounds, gutted and iced. Gonna get some mighty fine, lip smackin' eating off of those!

As I had discovered the hard way at the end of my second marriage, Divorce Courts refuse to enforce Pre-Nuptial agreements. That slut gold-digger got away with a lot more then she was ever justly entitled to. I thought my lawyers were good, turned out her's were better. To be sure, I now have a whole new set of lawyers on retainer. And this time, None of them are relatives!

Among the important subjects Christie and I were discussing included pre-nups. Actually Christie brought it up first. Her children had been rather insistent since she was bringing a substantially larger fortune to the table then I was. My ex-slut-wives, had each taken away a sizable chunk of my wealth and property. Her daughter and son were surprised but Christie wasn't, by how agreeable I was to protecting her estate. She had faith in my good intentions, as we had become closer, she understood my motivations a lot better then her adult children could.

And it was Christie who had researched and discovered about LIMPITs. A Lifetime Invested Marriage Partnership Insurance Trust. A binding contractual agreement for a respectable percentage of each spouse's estate, that penalizes failure of the marriage and severely penalizes proven adultery.

We each deposited, a half-million dollars, into an insured escrow trust account to be held by a major insurance firm. The Lifetime Invested Marriage Partnership Insurance Trust, would be our self-insurance against infidelity.

We each agreed to pay for half the cost of our house up front. Then, we would split in half monthly bills such as utilities, property maintenance, taxes, insurance, Association fees and assessments, groceries, cable and other miscellania. Each month, from our separate Savings Accounts, would be deposited an equal sum into our Joint Checking/Debit Card Account to cover these household expenses. Exceptions are personal expenses, such as our cellphones, our automobiles and personal insurance. Also, all our personal bank accounts, credit cards, retirement funds, investment portfolios, etc; are kept completely separate.

This may not seem very 'spousal' to you, but to us it was imperative too protect each of our families interests. We are adults and we deliberately sought to avoid getting emotional over our personal business affairs. We each keep what we keep and we each share what we share. Sorry if this does not agree with Your ideal of marriage. With Our trust issues, we firmly believe that this is working very well for us as a married couple.

Upon her passing, the remainder of Christie's wealth and personal property would be equally divided by her son and daughter, or in case of their prior demise their descendants. Plus, they are the beneficiary's of her insurance policies.

Upon my passing, the remainder of my fortune and personal property would be equally divided by my two nieces and a nephew and any other children my brother and sister may have or in case of their prior demise their descendants. Plus, they are the beneficiary's of my insurance policies.

If either partner dies while we are still married, the cash escrow bond in trust + interest/dividends earned portion of the LIMPIT is divided equally and returned to each estate for distribution as set by our wills.

The surviving spouse receives the deceased's interest in the house.

If Mr. & Mrs. McTavish should choose to divorce for irreconcilable differences. The two parties would only receive one half of the half-million dollars we had each deposited into the cash escrow bond in trust. The remaining half +all interest/dividends earned by the LIMPIT would be donated to charity. It is contractually obligated, that the house be vacated by both parties and sold. We would each only receive the return of what we each had invested in the house. Any deficit would be split equally between us. Any profit would be donated to charity. Thus encouraging compromise and conciliation and marital stability.

If irrefutable evidence {physical, such as but not limited to photos, video recordings, voice recordings, and/or DNA} of infidelity is proven against one of the spouses. The injured party receives the entire cash bond in trust + interest/dividends earned from the LIMPIT without any recompense for the other party.

In addition, the Injured Party will receive sole possession of the family home. The Offending Party is contractually required to move out, that is a signed, witnessed and notarized codicil to the deed. Except for possible, Court Ordered exceptions such as, requiring a division between the two parties of any, if any profit from a Court Mandated forced sale of their house.

In this case, due to tax laws that would penalize the receiver of a gift, the house is technically not part of the LIMPIT. The Injured Party may retain residency until death or permanently vacating the house, unless otherwise dictated by Court Order. Then the home is to be sold and whatever profit if any is to be divided equally unless otherwise set by Court Order.

Losing any part of the LIMPIT still retains all rights for the remainder to be awarded to the injured spouse as compensation for the other spouse committing proven infidelity.

My niece-in-law mischievously asked me. "What happens if Christie gets pissed enough at you to shoot you? Like she did her previous husband!"

I laughed and replied.

"Due to legal constraints we could not include that issue in either the Trust or the Deed. It would be considered against the public good, against public policy. Just remember, we each have our own personal fortune's, held separate and inviolate from the other.

If I was going to do anything with premeditation, that I thought would make Christie angry enough to shoot me. I intend, toot sweet, to be on the other side of the planet when I telephone her and try to explain. And then, on the off chance. Duck!"

Christie and her third husband Ned. Time after time, she had caught him screwing around with other women. The second to the last time she caught him in the dirty deed, he slapped her around and made it clear that as his wife, she was his property to abuse as he saw fit.

She brooded over the asshole adding injury to insult and determined she wasn't going to take any more of his steershit.

The other woman at that time had ran off back to her own husband, who had taken advantage of her drunken panic to have her committed to a psychiatric hospital so he could continue with his own sexual escapades. Unimpeded by the presence of an inconvenient wife.

The last time Christie caught Ned screwing another woman, for crying out loud, it was their housemaid! What a bad cliche. She threatened that she was going to take a lover just so she could get some of the affection and loving and safe sex that Ned was denying her.

He went all Neanderthal on her, shouting that she was his property and would have to shut the fuck up! And accept his manly philandering.

When she demanded a divorce, again he tried to hit her but this day he had made the classical blunder of bringing a fist to a cast iron skillet fight. The housemaid, frightened by the confrontation had grabbed Ned's cellphone off the nightstand and was fumbling trying to call 911. Instead, she accidentally videoed Ned attacking Christie and her cast iron retaliation upon his outrage at his wife's disrespect of his masculine privilege.

When Ned punched at her, she swung up the skillet and he shattered several knuckles of his right hand against the heavy cast iron. I gathered he'd been drinking heavily and failed to notice Christie was holding her chosen implement of chastisement behind her skirt.

Which she then proceeded to wheal it all over his sorry ass, literally. He was crouched down of the floor yelling, clutching his smashed hand, with his fat ass stuck up in the air. Christie got several good spanks in on his naked butt with the frying pan. For which of course she was arrested for spousal assault. The film the maid had inadvertently recorded of this event went viral on the internet, and is especially popular among women viewers.

Go figure.

Eventually the overworked judicial system let her off with a hefty fine, time served and a few hundred hours of community service.

A couple of months later at his lawyers office, as the divorce settlement was being worked out, Ned pulled a gun and attempted to shoot Christie. Precipitantly, he clumsily got off one shot into the bookcase behind her.

The half-dozen or so tall, masculine Attorney's-at-Law-Esq. pile-drived themselves under the table for cover to save their manly asses. An experienced Girl Scout, Christie had come prepared with a .32 Bulldog revolver in her large handbag. Turns out, she was a better shot then her swiftly expired husband.

With calm grace she stood her ground, as he fired again shredding another volume of Blackstone. With cool determination, she returned his fire and drilled him right between his beady little eyes.

As you can imagine, His attorneys were very upset that they no longer had a client to bill for their services to be rendered!

The Mortician was very upset that he never did get that astonished look off the decedent's face for the open casket viewing.

The coroner's jury declared her nonchargeable for committing self-defense.

Several churches chastised the Happy Widow for her lack of submission to her divinely appointed husband and the sanctity of wifely obedience as defined by never married, self-proclaimed celibate theologians. A thousand years ago........

They have forgotten the modern proverb "God made Man, Mr. Samuel Colt made Men Equal." That's Gospel!

Since the divorce was not finalized and his will and insurance, having never been updated, still listed Christie as sole beneficiary. She eventually wound up inheriting the late, unlamented decomposing's estate to add to what she had inherited from her own family. Whatever the lawyers didn't manage to hoover up first. Naturally.

She always said dividing the spousal inheritance she received from Ned's estate, by the years she had to endured with that infidelis. Was the equivalent to the interest earned from an uninsured savings account at a failed savings and loan.

The widow Christie was working as Regional Manager and my sister Marion, was her Assistant RM. They became good friends and socialized a lot. At this time I was rebuilding my businesses, gutted in my second divorce. What little free time I had, I devoted to spending with my sister and brother's families, as I had never fathered any children that I know of.

Considering the sluts I had been married too, I'd guess it was good fortune for the gene pool that neither bitch bred. Hooray! For low sperm count!

Christie and I found ourselves thrown together at numerous McTavish family get togethers. Christie began inviting me to her own family, the FitzRoy's get togethers with her adult children and grand-children. Slowly, timidly, we built a friendship into a relationship.

Affection developed into love. Together, we were able to overcome the lingering pains of our former marriages. We became a true partnership.

With the LIMPIT, we may not have a conventional marriage but the constant threat of giving away a half-million dollars plus interest and dividends earned. Is a great encouragement for us to focus on our relationship and our partnership. And, if we fail, with an amicable parting, no one will be able to say we did not give this marriage our total effort! Simultaneously, benefiting some great charities.

Huh, I wonder? Would they be praying for us? For our marital success, or.........?

Today, while George and I were off pestering fish. Kathy Saunders came over to try to convince my wife to convince me that we should join their swingers club.

Christie got out the scrapbook she had put together, of news-clippings, police reports, photos, legal transcripts, etc; about the end of her previous marriage.

Making it perfectly clear, that my wife would react with precipitous violence to any attempt, by any other woman, trying to enjoy my five and three-quarter inches of heart pounding strange.

Also, my wife proudly pointed out the glass case containing the medallions and trophies she and I have won over the years at amateur shooting contests.

Then Christie took Kathy out to our extra-large garage where, to the side of the parking for her fully restored '68 Chevy El Camino with a rebuild of the original V6 engine, my Dodge Diesel 4x4 crew cab truck and our Buick SedanLSX, is a small workshop setup.