Reshaping the Narrative

Reshaping The Narrative

The four of us sat around the table in the bar and sipped our drinks, bullshitted, and talked about sports, the upcoming election, and women.  Finally, Jacob looks at me and says in a slurred voice, " I hope you don't mind my saying, but your wife is one very hot piece of..., well, she is one fine looking lady," he said, revising his original thought.

I raised my glass and said I didn't mind.  "I got to be honest," he said.  "She makes my dick hard.  Anyone ever had the guts to tell you that?" he asked, stumbling over his words because of the number of empty glasses in front of him.

"No," I said, "no one ever had the balls, or the lack of sense."   I gave him what I hoped was my toughest stare,  then smiled, but he just shrugged it off and I smirked.

"No, I mean it.  You should take it as a compliment," he mumbled.  "I bet every one of your friends jacks off to thoughts of your old lady.  I am just drunk enough to be honest.  Every other guy here is thinking that, but I am the only one brave enough, honest enough, to tell you the truth straight out."

"Thanks," I said.

Then he turned to the others.  "Be honest.  Would any of you admit to wanting to fuck his chick?"  No one spoke.

Later that night, after the others had gone, and Jacob had staggered off towards his car, David put his arm on my shoulder.  "You showed a lot of class not punching his lights out tonight," he said.

"He was drunk," I said.  "He didn't mean anything by it."

"He's right, you know.  Every guy you know wants to fuck your wife," Dave said trying to be totally honest.

"You?" I said.

"I am as horny as the next guy," he said.

"Does that mean yes?" I asked.

"Well, how would you feel if a friend told you he did?" he said.  "I mean, honestly, how would you feel.  Pissed off or proud?"

"It would piss me off if a guy said he was going to try to fuck her.  Just saying he'd like to, well nothing wrong with that, I guess," I said.  "You going to try?"

"We been friends for years," he said.  "I wouldn't do that."

"But you'd like to, right?"

"Any normal guy would," he said looking me straight in the eyes.  "Any guy who doesn't like guys better," he said.  "Let me ask you.  Doesn't it give you just a little shot of pride to know other guys would give their left nut to fuck your wife?  I mean, seriously, don't you get a bit of a charge to know she is that sexy to other guys?"

"Sure," I said.

"So, do you ever wonder if she does, I mean think of other guys?" he asked.

"No," I said, "because I know she does.  She's told me," I said.

He looked at me for a long time without saying anything, processing what I had just said.  "We tell each other everything," I said.

"You going to tell her what Jacob said?" he asked.

"No reason not to," I said.

"And what I said?"

"I tell her everything," I answered.

"And what's she going to say?"

"Probably.  That's nice," I said.

"What if she says, 'Okay. I think I will try that.'"

"She might," I said.

"And if she does?"

"Then she will," I said.  "She doesn't ever say she is going to do something without doing it."

"And if she does," he repeated.

"Then I'll ask her how she liked it," I said.  I did not tell him I had actually seen her fuck another guy, that we had an open marriage.  I didn't tell him that she has a "friend" that she sees about once every three or four months.  I know it was mean to leave him dangling like that, but I was having just a little bit of fun with him.  Eventually, I figured I would tell him, but I knew that may just freak him out.

He figured I was going to smash Jacob in the face for saying, or almost saying, she was a hot piece of ass, but she is, truly.  I cannot argue with that.   Dave asked me if I was pissed at him for agreeing with a drunken Jacob.  I told him no, that I wasn't even mad at Jacob for being so crass.   Then I tell him that Claire and I have a unique arrangement.

He looks curious about the 'unique arrangement' part.  I tell him we have what society calls an open relationship.  "Open?" he says.  I tell him open means we allow other people into our family.  He looks even more confused.

"That means we fuck other people," I said.

When I got home I kissed Claire and told her was the topic of conversation today at the club.  She smiled and waited for me to explain.  "Jacob said, or almost said that you are a hot piece of ass," I said.

"So?  He's right, right?" she said.  "Right?" she repeated when I didn't bite.  "You said that you already knew that, right?"

"I gave him my meanest stare," I said.

"You didn't thank him?" she said with a smirk.  I shook my head.  "You didn't tell them I have a fuck-buddy?" she asked. "So, any of these guys worth my interest?"

"I doubt it very much," I said.  "I don't think they rise to your standard," I added. "Dave weighs about 280 pounds," I said, "and Jacob can't stay out of the bottle.  Carl has a face full of freckles and wild red hair that sticks up in back.   I don't think you'd find my friends very appealing," I said.  "At least not these."

"Not in your class, right?" she said with a wink.

I took her in my arms and kissed her tenderly.  "You are in a class by yourself," I said.  "No one can even touch you," I said.  As I hold her she begins to smile.  I didn't know it, but a plan began to form in her mind.

"You never know what a woman finds attractive," she said.  "Send him to me."

"Ah, Dave is not big and muscular," I said.  "He is just big and fat."

"Fat can be sexy," she said.  "Send him to me."  I asked if she was serious.  She just smiled and nodded. So we began planning it.  I helped her prepare: trimming her bush, picking out the sexiest outfit, talking about what to tell him, when to have him come, where I should be.

Finally I arranged to meet him, ask if he was interested.  Of course he was interested.  He almost could not contain himself.  I told him when to go, what she liked, and how long he should stay.  Like with her other intimate friends, I began to get excited.  I began to picture it in my mind, but I couldn't see Dave in the scenario.

What I didn't know until later, what I didn't find out until she told me, was what happened when he arrived.  As planned she met him at the door.  I had arranged to be gone, and would not return until they had had time to complete the matter.  I imagined the scene at my front door, the kissing and ripping clothes and frantic dash to the bedroom.  I saw him ravish her, fuck her in our bed like she'd done with her other 'friends.'  I ran through the possibilities and savored the images of my wife fucking another man, even though I could not see Dave being a man she would be attracted to.

What I didn't know until she told me later, was what she said when he stood on our porch at the front door.  "Oh no," she said.  "He didn't do it again.  Not again."

"He didn't do what?" Dave said, bewildered and uneasy by the possibilities.

"He didn't tell you, did he, that we have an open marriage?  He didn't tell you I fuck other guys, did he?" "None of that is true." He shook his head, incredulous.  "Oh come in.  He can't find out nothing happened.  We don't want him to get violent again, do we?"

"Violent?" he said.

"The last man he sent over, when he found out we didn't do anything, he beat him almost to death," she said dragging him inside.  "If some of his spies tells him you just left without coming in, he'll know."

"Spies?"

"He has allies in the neighborhood who watch for him.  They report to him if a man doesn't give me what he thinks I should have.  You must never tell him you did not come in and fuck me.  We don't want the violence again do we," she said with alarm and fear in her voice.

"Violence?" he said again.

"Come inside," she said.  "They can't see you out here and know that you did not come in," she said.

"They?" he said.

"Would you like some coffee?  You need to stay about an hour," she said, ignoring his question.  "They can't see you just leave."  She ushered him inside and shut the door, looking outside to check for 'spies.'  They went into the kitchen and she poured him a cup of coffee, then she sat across from him.

"Spies?" he said.

"He has friends who watch me," she said.  "Are you married?" she asked.

"Divorced," he said.  "He gets violent?" Dave asked again.

"Only if he finds out we didn't do it," she said with as straight an expression on her face as she could muster.

He sat nervously sipping his coffee, but didn't say much.  I think he was traumatized by her story of a tyrannical husband who sublets out his wife to strangers with neighborhood spies who report in to him.   Poor Dave.

He left after an hour, but he left with anxiety clearly showing on his face, freaked out by my wife's story of violence and obligatory sex.  It was a wicked stunt but she couldn't resist.  When I got home she told me what she had done.

I said poor Dave would never get over it.  "He probably will be afraid to speak to me after this," I said.

"You will be more careful now who you tell about our open   arrangement, right?" she said.  "Men can't handle being told a guy lets his wife fuck other men, even watches.  You know that now don't you?

I said I would be more careful who I tell.  "Most men can't handle that," she said.  Of course I knew she was right.    The "They think a guy is supposed to keep all other men away from their little woman.  It is the alpha male syndrome," she said.  "You are supposed to fight off all rivals for your female property.  If you don't, you are less of a man.  I wonder how long it will take for that story to get around town," she said.

"It has probably made it twice around town already," I said.

"I wonder if any of your spies have heard it yet," she said with a smile.