It was apparent from the start that we had not rehearsed what we wanted to say to one another. It was more obvious that Julie didn't want to be there at all. I had not expected to be having this embarrassing opportunity to speak to her at this time. Nor, did Julie expect to be speaking to me. The conversation began rather slowly and tentatively as we "danced around" the uncomfortable situation.
"Are y-you o-okay, Julie?" I asked softly.
"Yes, I'm fine." she answered in a faint whisper, her eyes moving away from mine.
There was an uncomfortable pause that seemed to last forever. In shame, I looked over my beautiful wife who had been so outspoken in the past. Now, she was quiet and demure, and so obviously well-fucked by the younger black man. It was so obvious that it was difficult to comprehend.
"I-I really don't kn-know what to s-say, Julie." I whispered, even softer.
Julie paused.
"Well, Trey said that I needed to speak to you. So, I am." Julie finally said, her soft voice ringing in my ears.
"Oh." I meekly replied, trying to avoid direct eye contact with her.
The silence between our verbal exchanges was already deafening, and becoming more uncomfortable with each passing moment.
"Trey says you've been being really good about helping him out." she suddenly said, trying to make small talk.
I looked at Julie confused by her words. Her unplanned response surprised me. My face blushed as I did not understand what she was referring to at the time.
"Yeah. Trey says you've been helping out with his laundry and his workouts in the gym." my blonde wife said, continuing her attempts at small talk.
Her words cut right through me like a buzz saw would cut through plywood. Here was my beautiful wife mentioning in a "round about way" the demoralizing fact that she was fully aware of my embarrassing predicament.
She was aware that her young black stud was making her tall, weakling white husband handwash his worn bikini underwear every other day. She was aware that her "pussy" of a husband was back to being her black stud's workout assistant, which simply consisted of being his "spit and towel boy." Her innocent little comment told me that she knew that Tra'mon was making me "fetch" things for him, like his custom-made bikinis. She seemed to know everything.
In many ways, it seemed as if Julie felt compelled to mention these embarrassing facts. I didn't understand why she needed to bring all this up at this time. I was already embarrassed enough.
"Y-Yeah, I-uh-guess." I answered meekly.
My eyes could not look into hers for more than a second. Not after those words she just spoke. The shame I felt was unbearable. The long pauses between our responses felt so disheartening. It was like we had become teenagers on a first date, or even worse strangers.
"Well, at least Trey is not beating you up anymore." Julie suddenly said in a soft tone.
"Not so much, I mean." she added, in an afterthought.
My body felt limp as Julie mentioned this humiliating fact.
"I mean, Trey just has such a temper sometimes." she added.
"Trey can get so physical when he gets mad." Julie continued.
"Trey says that's just how he is." she added.
"And, I know it must hurt you when Trey does all those things to you." she said, rather innocently.
"I guess that's why you're so afraid of him." she added, a faint whisper coming from her lips.
I was speechless. I sat there embarrassed that my wife would continue to mention these things. It was even more curious as to why she felt compelled to continue on and on. Her direct and indirect references to Tra'mon "beating me up" and me "being afraid of him" were so embarrassing to hear. My throat was tightening.
It felt as if Julie was suddenly remembering all those humiliating images and situations that she had witnessed, as well as the ones she was keenly aware of. Now, she was verbalizing them.
Julie was indirectly referring to the many times she had seen Tra'mon slap my face, and the times he would roughly put my face to his backside. She seemed to be referencing the times she had seen him place his dirty foot on the side of my face and twist my arm behind my back as he literally kicked my backside with his bare foot.
"But, that's just how Trey is. You shouldn't get him mad, ya' know." she added in a matter of fact tone.
"I-I know." I replied in a barely detectable whisper.
Her references to these things were digging into my already low self esteem, and I needed for her to stop. I do not think she knew how she was making me feel at the time. Talking about the ways this young stud had emasculated me was far too demoralizing for me to handle. My face burned red from the degradation I was feeling inside. In desperation, I then interrupted her train of thought. I just had to.
"Julie, please?!" I shouted.
"Wh-Why are you with him?" I babbled.
"H-How can you b-be with a man like th-that?" I suddenly gasped.
I do not know where my words came from. They suddenly came out and I knew that my frustration must have caused this brief eruption. The humiliation I had experienced didn't need to be repeated, as far as I was concerned, and here she was dwelling on the degrading details of them.
My brief eruption startled Julie as she looked back at me ready to shout back. But, then she regained her composure and slipped back to her softer side as she contemplated what her response would be.
"Richard, I don't think you'll ever understand." she began, speaking casually.
"Trey is just a different man." Julie continued.
"A different man than you." she added.
"A much different type of man. A proud man. A strong man. A strong black man." Julie explained.
As I heard those words come from my wife's lips I became even more embarrassed. I did not intend to "set off" any comments from her. Not like this. The soft, casual tone she took while explaining what type of man Tra'mon is truly carved into my heart even deeper.
I tried changing the subject fast.
"Julie? Your h-hair. Wh-why?" I asked.
"It's what Trey wanted." she answered.
"B-But, it's-uh." I attempted to respond.
"Well, Trey likes it. I like it now too." Julie said, softly.
"Y-Your br-breasts, Julie? Wh-Why in world would you d-do something l-like that to y-yourself?" I gasped, suddenly feeling a surge of energy to ask.
"I just thought it was time for a change. Trey said they would look good on me. Trey was right." she answered, her tone softening again.
"B-But, they're so b-big now Julie." I bellowed, my eyes looking even more worried.
Julie just looked at me as if she couldn't believe I was concerned by the size of her boobs. She wasn't about to honor my curiosity with an answer. Not at this time.
"And, y-your arms? Th-those tattoos?" I gasped, pleading for an explanation.
"Wh-What is..." I cried.
My blonde wife just peered back at my defeated face and offered up a rather non chalant response to the large black panther head tattoos on both of her arms. The blackness of those tattoos slightly draped over each one of her shoulders and covered her upper arms nearly to the elbows.
"They're just symbolic. The fitness center's logo is a black panther. Trey said they'd make things easier." she said.
"Easier f-for what, J-Julie?" I asked with begging eyes.
"Just easier. They identify me." she said.
