I haven't done a scientific study, and my perception may be way off, but to me it seems that stories in the Loving Wives category fall into three basic groups:
–Willing cuck stories; guys, who for reasons I'll never understand, want to see other guys fucking their wives. These stories appear to be about 35% of the category.
–BTB stories; after the wife cheats (often with the husband's best friend) she typically ends up in a Mexican whorehouse or the like, and her lover usually is either castrated or killed – or at least beaten bloody. These stories also appear to be about 35% of the category.
–The remaining 30% of the stories in this category are hard to pigeonhole so I'll just call them "other."
In this story my wife has sex with my best friend without my knowledge or permission and it doesn't excite me in the least; she ends up in a Mexican whorehouse; and he ends up dead; so it must be a typical BTB story – right?
Maybe, maybe not.
*****************
I was never what anyone would mistake for a "nice guy" through my twenty third birthday. I was primarily interested in fighting and fucking. Even though my parents and siblings were normal refined people I was in trouble as far back as I can remember. Some of my "highlights" (actually "lowlights" would be more accurate) were:
–I changed elementary or middle schools three times even though my parents never moved. Getting in fights was the main problem – I had a short fuse and a "don't fuck with me" attitude.
–I got kicked off the High School wrestling team as a sophomore – the only year I was on it – when as a light heavyweight I got disqualified three times in the first six matches for illegal holds, one of which broke my opponent's arm. I won the other three matches, but that made no difference to the conference administrative body, which was the organization that made the decision.
–I got caught fucking one of my teachers when I was a junior. I still maintain that it wasn't really my fault; I mean she was a super-hot P. E. teacher only six years older than I was and she came on to me. Maybe it wasn't the wisest thing to have one of our intense earth-shattering fuck sessions in the faculty lounge (even though it was on a Saturday). Nevertheless I got suspended for two months, and she got fired.
–In view of my suspension as a junior in High School, I was behind academically and wasn't enjoying my fourth year there, especially since 98% of my female classmates were either prissy or demure and I enjoyed women who were strong and audacious (like the aforementioned P. E. teacher). Near the end of the school year I ended up getting in fights over the rare desirable pussy in my school, and finally got charged with assault when I punched out the cop who was trying to stop me from kicking the shit out of two of my male classmates.
After six months in jail (not prison) where at least I got my GED, and a few more fights where fortunately the fellow prisoners that I beat up didn't press charges, the crotchety old judge gave me an ultimatum: "Join the armed forces and keep your nose clean for two years, or go to prison for three."
While I'm a bad ass and not real smart, I was smart enough to get that right, and enlisted in the Army a week after I got out of jail.
At the time that I joined the Army I had only one truly redeeming quality, I guess imprinted on me by my mother and older sister – I was always kind to women. While I wanted to fuck any woman who met my criteria for strong and audacious, I never, ever, ever even verbally abused a woman, let alone physically. I treated all women with respect – which led to some of my fights when other guys didn't.
In the Army I tried to qualify as a Ranger. I was more than physically fit for that elite group even though I was bigger (six foot three inches, 215 pounds whereas the average is five foot nine inches, 174 pounds) than normal and bigger isn't better except in hand-to-hand combat. However, as the base commander so delicately put it when I reported to his office: "Well, well, well; if it isn't trainee Bertil Johansson, the most fucked up soldier I can ever remember evaluating. We never had someone trying to qualify for the Rangers before as physically capable and as mentally unfit as you are. You're not supposed to kick the shit out of your fellow soldiers just because they insult you, and you're supposed to listen to orders not challenge the drill sergeant to a fight. Get your fucking mind together and try again in a couple of years, but for now get the fuck out of my sight before I have you court-martialed!"
Oh well.
I was immediately sent to Afghanistan, where there was real fighting. The first week there I did either something stupid or heroic, depending upon your point of view, and was credited with saving the lives of four guys in my platoon and a dozen Afghan school girls when I killed a half dozen Taliban. I was put in for a Bronze Star while I was in the infirmary recovering from my wounds.
I was not really as injured as my wounds appeared to be. Since there was a nurse there who fit my criteria for desirable pussy, I stayed in the infirmary longer than I needed to. The second time that I fucked Nurse Nancy in a storage closet (and a great fuck she was) we were discovered. Since she was a lieutenant in the Army Reserves that was a No-No; however they really did need nurses and I had already been put in for that Bronze Star, so the commandant simply chastised her and transferred me to South Korea near the DMZ.
I did my best to stop fighting after being sent to a regular army unit in Korea since although I didn't get a formal reprimand somehow my reputation preceded me. I was mostly successful in not fighting my fellow soldiers although I still had trouble with civilians or military personnel in other branches. Twenty months into my tour of duty I was told by my company commander, who was really looking for a reason to get rid of me even though I had actually received the Bronze Star, that if I had one more reprimand for anything (the ones so far were for fighting, but he made clear "anything") I'd be bounced out with a dishonorable discharge. If that happened before two years of my three year enlistment was up I was concerned that Judge Crotchety would find out and park my ass in prison for three years.
Twenty two months into my enlistment, on leave near a bar where armed forces enlistees often congregated, I saw four guys trying to take two women where they obviously didn't want to go. I knew that I was on a short leash but about the only good part of my upbringing just didn't allow me to walk away even though many others didn't appear to want to intervene. Just before the four local dudes got to a waiting van with the sliding side door open I stepped between the door and the yelling women and intense guys.
Since I didn't speak Korean I was at a distinct disadvantage. I held up my hand in a universal stop motion. "Stop – what's going on?" I asked.
"You leave – no wrong," one of the guys said, clearly the only one of the six with even rudimentary English.
The two women, seeing my intervention, started yelling more frantically. The guy closest to me slapped one of them across the face, drawing blood. That was it. I was no longer concerned about going to prison after getting drummed out of the military. Nor did I worry "there are four of them and just one of me" since I was significantly bigger than any one of them, and I hadn't lost a fight regardless of the odds since I was sixteen.
I had already put two of the dudes out of commission (don't ask me exactly how since in an affray like that I just react and normally have no memory of details afterwards), the third and the women ran (in different directions), and I was pummeling the fourth, when four MPs, two in a Jeep and two on foot, arrived on the scene. They stopped me from knocking the fourth guy unconscious and with weapons drawn asked what was going on.
Fortunately for me, the episode had been viewed by an elderly Korean shopkeeper and two U S sailors exiting the bar. Since the shopkeeper spoke pretty good English and understood what the women were yelling about, and since my story meshed with those of the sailors and the shopkeeper, the MPs actually held the three Koreans that I had disabled for the Korean police.
