If You Really Love Me

I've had several story lines in my head over the last several months, but just haven't brought any of them to a finished state. So last week I re-visited old files and decided to put some finish on some of them. Here's the first. It's a little over the top tale of a cuckold fantasy gone wrong as it comes true, and the husband finally putting his foot down. If you don't like that theme, c'est la vie. Move along and save yourself the angst. Now on with the story.

*****

"THIS IS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR! I NEVER ASKED OR THIS, ANY OF THIS!"

His chest heaved. His fists clenched tightly. His eyes glazed over with rage. Yet Eileen remained unfazed by her husband's demonstration.

"A day late and a dollar short," she thought. "He's already revealed his true self, the spineless wuss. She regarded him with a smirk. "Now, now Timmy, get a grip on yourself. It's all you're good for lately, gripping your wimpy self. Lets say we leave it at just wimpy, and not add moronic as well. You did sign up for it Timmy. This was your fantasy. You wanted me to fuck another man, and I indulged you. Now don't even dream about putting the genie back in the bottle. I fucked him. I liked it. I invited him back, and I liked it again. And you have to admit I was generous. I kept you involved the entire time. I not only let you watch Friday night, I let you jerk off and cum with us. I gave you a chance to object when I invited Mike back Saturday night too, but you let it go on. I told you how much I enjoyed it, right? I even jerked you off in bed Friday night..."

"Yes, but you refused to allow me to have sex with you!"

"Sh sh sh, Sweety. Yes I did. I had never had sex like that before. Mike rang my bell like you just never could. He stretched me out so much further than you can, I was so sore I couldn't stand to have you even touch me."

"But you were ok to have him Saturday night!"

"That's right Timmy. I couldn't resist him. And to tell you the truth, as sore as I am today, I'm thinking about having him come over again tonight."

"NO!" Tim bellowed. "NO MORE! We have a lot to straighten out..."

"You will not talk to me in that tone Timothy Martin. Lets get something straight. It was your fantasy. And now that I'm all in you think you can change your mind."

Tim sank into the couch. It was only a fantasy. He never wanted it to be real. But when it came time to stop things he relented.

"You told me I had to. 'If I really loved you,' you told me, 'I would let you have this, just one time.' Then that one time became a reason to humiliate me and try to make me feel like less of a man. Then suddenly, you invited him again. So much for one time only. Saturday night was about 'If you really love me you'll suck his cock to get him hard for me.' Then you demand I eat his cream pie from your just fucked pussy. Then this morning I have to prove my love for you again by licking both of you clean from your morning fuck while you eat the breakfast and coffee I had to make for you...all in the name of 'really loving you.' Now you tell me I will never have sex with you again, short of a mercy handjob and an occasional blowjob as a reward for being a good boy, well fuck it. I'm your husband. For better or worse."

"Well, well, well. Maybe Timmy has some balls after all. Either that or you are suffering delusions of grandeur. Now listen here Timmy. Balls or not, I'm going to be fucking Mike for the foreseeable future. You only have two options. Accept what I am doing with my body...My body, and my choice. Or you can leave. If you leave, I will divorce you, unless you divorce me first. It really doesn't matter. I'll take half of everything from the house to your pension. The woman always gets the house, so you'll need to start over. And how will you pay a mortgage on any decent home on half of a salary? It's going to be sad Timmy. And I'll miss you. I really do love you, and moving out will break my heart. But if you stay, you will be out of my sex life unless you accept your new roles. Witness. Fluffer boy. Clean up duty. Waiter. Oh Timmy, don't cry. Hang on to a little of your dignity."

Tim wiped his eyes clean. He wondered how she could say she really does love him? His only option. The fuck it was. Dignity, he would give her a lesson in dignity. There was no way he would let Mike ever again make him look inferior. And there was no way he was going to grovel to Eileen. He would play out his hand, and he didn't intend to lose.

"Very well, Eileen. I believe I can accept your terms, but let me be clear on some things. First of all, I will take the option of not taking part in your sex life rather than play those roles."

"But Sweetheart..." Eileen began to object, but Tim cut her off.

"No Eileen, no sweetheart. If we are going to co-exist in this bizarre new relationship, it has to be done respectfully. Terms of endearment like Sweetheart, Dear, Darling, Honey, Babe, and especially belittling pet names like Timmy are probably inappropriate and undignified. Tim or Timothy are fine. Oh, and please instruct Mike to refer to me as Mr. Martin. I am not his friend, and he is certainly not mine."

"Oh Tim, that's silly. How can you possibly force Mike..."

"Easily. I have the video tape you two made last night. It is legal and fair game, since you both are recorded on the tape requesting me to take specific shots. It is good enough to stand up in divorce court to prove cruelty and adultery both for our case and for the case his wife would certainly file when I give a copy of the video to her. You set the precedent for blackmail when you used my supposed willing participation to force me into things I never would have done otherwise. It's a two edged sword."

Eileen looked shocked. "He's married!? How do you..."

"Easy. I did some research yesterday afternoon while you two were in bed. I had his car's license plate number, and since he left his wallet on the coffee table, I was able to take a pic of his driver's license. A little time on Google gave me all I need to know. Her name is Elise, they have three kids, ages 2,3 and 5. He works for her father's company, which is good since he has been fired from three other gigs. Yeah, she is the money and power, he doesn't want to mess with his marriage. So...Mr. Martin, it is. Let him know."

The smirk was gone from Eileen's gave now. She was a great deal less confident in her position.

"Now, the next thing I'm going to need to make clear. I will not watch, clean up, fluff or help in any way every again. You giggled your way back to sleep after making me do those things this morning, so you didn't hear me puking my guts up and gargling all morning long. So given the choice of continuing to demean myself by letting you treat me that way or opt out of sex with you completely, well, it's a no brainer."

"You got off on all of those things! I saw you! Your dick got hard and you jerked off..."

"NO!...no. You're wrong. You set me up. We hadn't had sex for three weeks. Looking back, I'm sure it was on purpose. Congratulations, very devious. So horny as hell from three weeks of deprivation by my loving wife, first I see her having sex, them I'm presented with her dripping pussy being pressed onto my face. And you're using my physical reaction to prove I liked it? Well I don't get a boner for jealousy, or humiliation. You didn't see that, just a deprivation driven erection which probably could have happened in a room by myself with a still breeze. So, no. Just no. We're done with sex."

"Wait. I never said we're done totally. I just said no intercourse. And looking from your point of view, I was probably hasty. I suppose we can still have sex..."

"No thanks. I don't need pity or mercy sex. And I certainly don't want to make love to someone who thinks so little of me. And if I can give up making love, I certainly don't need sex from you. But I'm not through. I have a question. If I was supposed to allow you to do what you wanted because I loved you so much, shouldn't your love for me have prevented it from going as far as it did? Wait...no. Don't answer that. Your actions have already answered that."

Eileen was no longer in the driver's seat. She had no response.

"So Eileen, lets look at a different issue. I'm talking about this whole concept of doing what you want because it feels right, regardless of what I feel. If it is ok for you to apply that concept to something as important in a married couple's life as their love life, it should be ok to apply it to other areas as well, agreed?"

"Well, I guess that depends on what you want to apply it to."

"Why? if a concept is right, it should be universally so! Right?"

Eileen gave it some thought. She relented, but wasn't happy about it.

"Ok then, now that I understand where we are, you might as well enjoy yourself. Go on and call Mike if you feel the need."

So it was I suggested she call her lover and get ready for a third night of debauchery. For a second I thought she was going to balk. I actually hoped she would. It looked like she might have had a regret or two, and was considering our marriage. But we all know a second doesn't last very long, and she pulled out her phone as she turned to go. I heard her say "Yeah, come on over."

She went up to our bedroom to prepare. I went to the kitchen for a bottle of wine, and to start my dinner. I heard the shower run, and stop. Then it was quiet for a while. Then she came storming back.

"Where are your things? Your closet is empty!"

"Oh. I forgot to mention that I moved into the guest suite. I'm afraid I wouldn't last very long in bed without becoming sexually aroused, which I am avoiding, at least around you."

"Like hell you will avoid me. Get upstairs and move your clothes back. You are my husband, and however this resolves you will remain living and sleeping with me."

"No, I don't think so Eileen. You see we agreed that we should each do what is right for ourself, regardless of what our spouse wants, or needs. The fact is, other than sex, you are a poor bed-mate. Your snoring gets worse and worse, and when you get cold you wind up sleeping on top of me. I wake up all night with your tossing and turning and kicking and kneeing and poking. Well I just don't enjoy sleeping with you. So if all of the physical benefits of sleeping with you are gone because my dick is too small for you, there is really no reason for me to stay in bed for the cruddy stuff."

"I hate sleeping alone! You know that! I can't be alone all night!"

I continued to work on dinner, and she continued to rant and rave. I broiled the fish, stir fried my veggies in the wok, sliced fruit for dessert, and tossed the salad. Mike showed up, and they spoke in hushed tones at the door. I opened the wine, plated my dinner and sat down just as Mike walked up to the table.

"Nice of you to make us dinner Timmy," he said as he took two wine glasses from the china cabinet and sat down beside me. "Think I'll start with the wine. That'll give you time to serve our meals."

I looked him in the eye and gently caressed my wine bottle. I carefully worded my response. "No Mikey, I won't be serving you anything. This is my last bottle of this particular crianza, and I intend to savor every drop. And I made this dinner just for me. I didn't anticipate being part of your evening. For that matter, I didn't expect you to be part of mine, so there's only enough for..."

"No one calls me Mikey asshole. I don't know..."

"That's right. You don't know. You really don't know much at all. You really don't know what you've gotten yourself into here."

"I know you are a cock sucking faggot..."

"Really? Really Mikey? Oh wait. I forgot you don't like that, it's Mike. Like that Camel on TV. Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike! Know what day it is? It's hump day! Yup youre gonna get lucky and look at a stinky ole Camel toe! No? Maybe it's movie night! Movie movie movie! Watch!"

I hit the remote which I had placed by my plate and the big 52" TV in the family room behind Mike sprang to life. Screams of ecstasy and primal grunts were pouring from my wife's mouth while he belittled my manhood. In the next scene, it switched to his moans as he grabbed a mouthful of breast meat and shook his head "no" as Eileen demanded to know if his other lovers wife had breasts as nice, of if they could fuck half as well as my slutty wife.

"So you have the movie. So what? We told you to take those shots. That way Eileen could torture you with it for months and..."

"No wait, Mikey..."

I knew he didn't like to be called "Mikey," and he actually threw a punch at my face. It was a good punch. He was quick and strong. But he wasn't quick enough to pull the punch when necessary. I dropped my head so the hard crown of my skull replaced my very soft, very breakable nose in the path of his right hook. I heard the crack of bones in his hand first, then the shriek of pain.

"Mikey. I mean Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike. I gotta say, you don't punch like a wuss, but you can't aim worth shit. So tell me, how is it you can call me a cock sucking faggot, when it was something I did at the love of my life's urging and your request. The way I see it, she asked me to prove my love for her, and I did. Nothing wussy or dishonorable in that. Now, her asking me to do something so demeaning in the name of how much I love her, that's questionable! Tell me Mikey boy, would you feel betrayed if some bitch took advantage of your love that way?"

Eileen's jaw dropped, but she had nothing to say. Mike couldn't concentrate either. After all he just broke his hand. I'm sure it hurt.

"Eileen where are your manners? Your lover hurt himself in a crude attempt to defend his own honor. Get him some ice."

She broke out of her shock to get him ice.

"Right my dear wife, that's a good lover, taking care of her boy in his pain. Oh and it's ok, you needn't ask about your supposed life partner, I'm fine. Hurts a bit on the surface, but no big damage. Top of the forehead is hard, dense and pretty durable. Some say its the hardest part of the body. I dunno, but I'm ok thanks for asking."

She glared at me, "you asshole! You hurt him badly."

"Moi!?" I responded as I took a bite of my fish. Oh it was so good. I can cook. I can flat out cook. "He swung at me Eileen! In my home! While I was sitting at my table eating dinner, no less! I think man deserves to eat his dinner in peace while in his own home! And I think a real man should expect to be able to defend that don't you!?"

She just glared again while attending to icing Mike's hand.

"Now about this faggot cocksucker business. First of all I object to the use of derogatory terms like faggot. We've already established that I did what I did for the love of my wife...at least the love I still had at the time."

"At the time?" Eileen looked puzzled. I guess she really thought my love for her would endure beyond what she had done. "At the time? What about..."

"Shhhhh. One topic at a time. I was asking your boy here why he had the right to question my manhood. I did it for you, which is entirely reasonable on my part. My question to him is why he believes my manhood should be something less for what I did, while he is on record begging another man to suck his cock?"

"WHAT!? I NEVER..."

I clicked the DVD to the appropriate excerpt.

"Please Timmy, please be my pussy boy? I need you to suck my cock."

There it was. On screen in hi def with crystal clear audio, Mike begging me to suck his dick.

"So we know I did it for my wife of 24 years. We don't know why you would beg a man for a sexual act? Ya know what! I'll be this would be a big hit on the Internet."

To say Mike was enraged would be an understatement. He stood and started my way, but I was able to stop him with a look. And a number.

"555-0269."

Eileen quickly looked at Mike, wondering what significance belonged to the number I just threw his way.

"I have the movie, and I have the phone number. Yup, the number of Suzy Carter, née Susan MacDougall. She is the daughter of Seamus MacDougall and the former Clara O'Neill. She lives with her husband, one "Mikey" Carter who works as a manager for MacDougall Industries. He makes $85,000 a year, drives a company car and lives in a home with a mortgage paid by his employer, his father in law. His 3 year old daughter is the apple of his eye, unless his wife's Facebook pictures lie. Oh and the Facebook pics also show her to be a stone fox whether in a bikini or a little black dress at the country club ball. I also see where you have a bit of a gambling problem, cruise personal ads for married women, are currently seeing three others besides my wife, and have been treated twice in the last three years for syphillis. It seems you have a thing for street hookers too, and were arrested for pandering five years ago, but were released for turning states evidence against a certain thug street named "Brick Wohl."

Yup. I learned a lot on Google. Mike was stunned. Eileen was shocked.

"Hey Mike. What would happen if I spoke with your wife about this? Does she know about the VD? What would happen if I emailed her a link to this video?"

Mike was looking kinda pale.

"Hey Mike. Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike! How about her dad? Does good ole Seamus know his daughter married a connoisseur of street whores? A selective slut fucker? A purveyor of infected pussy? That you have such a strong taste for cock you beg for it?"

Pale turned to green. I thought he might get sick. I wasn't sick at all. I was in fact enjoying my dinner. The wine was exquisite. Eileen was turning colors too. She had turned a furious shade of red. Could she really be surprised that she was had by a guy she found on the back page of the local personal rag?

"Now, now Eileen. Don't blame your little lover boy here. You answered his ad, and he promised you sex. He gave you what he promised too, and you loved it enough to give up that part of your life with your husband. Matter of fact he was so good at keeping that promised, you felt you could ridicule our sex life. Over twenty five years of marital bliss! Life partner, lover, father of your children, the one you said "love, honor and cherish" to. Yep, he kept his promise as well as I did. I would, however, make sure you get tested for STD's, as he has a history. I went to the public health clinic myself this morning."

I could see the realization grown in Eileen's eyes. She orchestrated this weekend perfectly. She betrayed my trust only to be betrayed herself for trusting a rat like Mike.

"Aw Mikey boy, Seamus and Suzy are the least of your worries. You know that pimp you helped send away? He's up for parole in a month. Yup, that was on Google too. There was public notice of his hearing so folks from his old neighborhood could voice concerns. I thought I might go, and ask him if he's thought about you at all in jail over the last five years. Wanna go along?"

Pale. Green. Sickly. Now Mike was wide eyed and afraid. Plus his hand hurt. Tears started to run. Then Eileen started to run. She ran out of the kitchen and down the hall to our son's room. She ran back in carrying the baseball bat he used back when he was in high school. He put his hand up to block her swing. Yeah that hand. The shriek was eerie. The clunk from her connecting with his head on the second swing was sickening. No, I found no comfort in the sounds, sight or smells of my wife beating him senseless. I'm a pacifist. No, I didn't fight him. I just ducked so he would hit something that would hurt him more than me.

Damn that fish was good, now it was going to get cold and go to waste. I dialed 911 as Eileen sank into the couch in tears. The dispatcher kept me on the line and connected me to an EMT who gave me instructions to administer first aid to my nemesis. I did so less than enthusiastically. Eileen dropped face first into the couch cushions and bawled like a baby. The police arrived first, and the officer took over the first aid. I stepped back, but provided the officer with everything he needed. The ambulance came next, and the flurry of activity in the living room snapped Eileen back to reality. As they packed Mikey to the hospital, the cop and a back up officer who arrived after the EMT's questioned Eileen and I. I didn't know what Eileen was telling her interviewing officer, but I didn't like her animated pointing at me that brought an almost evil scowl from her cop in my direction.