Kalimaxos challenged writers to finish his story about a wife trying to have her sex cake and eat it too. This is my effort. My story will make more sense if you read the original.
As the scene opens, Rick, our protagonist, has just learned that his wife Marcy plans to have sex with a doctor while on a charity medical mission to Colombia, and further, that she has arranged for a neighbor who is in the swinging lifestyle, to keep Rick happy. The neighbor, Leslie, has just opened a bottle of wine.
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"So, Rick, what do we do?"
I took my glass, swirled the wine for a few seconds, and thought.
"Well Leslie," I finally replied, "you are a very beautiful young woman, and I am very sure that having sex with you would be a very enjoyable experience. But right now my mind is racing, my emotions are exploding, and my heart aches. I doubt if I could even get it up to perform, let alone have it be any kind of a rewarding experience for either of us."
"I understand," she said. "You've been hit with a lot, and hit where it hurts. May I just stay here for a while and keep you company? Maybe talking through some things would help. Vincent and I did not jump right into the open marriage thing - it was something that we talked about for a long time, and then we dipped our toes in the water before going through with it. Marcy has placed you in the position of having to take a swan dive.
"I do have a question, though," she continued. "Marcy told me that she knew you had had an affair when you were overseas with someone named Diedre. She said she felt as though her fling on this trip would be sort of a compensation for that."
"Yes, Leslie, I did stray once. Once in 20 years. I did not have an affair. I served in Iraq with a woman who had feelings for me, and I admit I had some feelings for her. She had been my girl friend in high school, and evidently the magic of a first love had not left her. But I was determined to be a faithful husband, so I rebuffed her suggestions that we should 'get together.' She did corner me one day after a close call with a roadside bomb, and she gave me a blowjob. I reciprocated with my tongue and fingers. But we did not have intercourse - I have not had intercourse with anyone but Marcy since our first date.
"Evidently Diedre was hurt by the fact that I would not sleep with her, so when she came home before I did she made it a point to give Marcy the idea that there had been something going on between us. When I got home Marcy asked me about it, and I foolishly lied and denied anything had happened. If only I had come clean and told her the truth about that one and only transgression, she would not have felt betrayed and felt justified in what she's doing now."
"What are you going to do? I I know from our conversations how much Marcy loves you," Leslie said.
"I don't know, Leslie," I replied. "One thing I know for sure is that I'm not going to do anything at all for a few days while I settle down to where I can think straight. And while Marcy's scheme to keep me busy with you was clever, I'm afraid I'm not going to take the two of you up on it. Whether or not Marcy respects our marital vows, and it looks like she doesn't, I still do. Frankly, I have reason to suspect that Marcy carried on some extra-marital activity at the hospital before now when I was inn Korea, although I don't know for sure and don't know whether it was with Tray or somebody else. I didn't do anything about it because I didn't want to believe it. Now I think maybe I've been made the fool more than once."
"Part of me wants to get out one of my old fake passports from when I was in Army Intelligence and fly down to Bogota and castrate the son of a bitch, then fly back and play innocent when Marcy gets home. Or maybe catch them both in the act and shoot them, then fly home and get on with my life.
"Part of me wants to run right out to a divorce lawyer and ditch the bitch.
"And, quite honestly, part of me wants to take you in my arms right now, fuck you from here to next week, and go along with Marcy's crazy plan. Maybe even woo you away from your kinky husband and make a new life of it.
"But the rational part of my brain says 'slow down, cool down, think this through and don't do anything stupid.'"
With that I drained my wine glass. Marcy filled it up, and sat down next to me on the sofa. She put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward her like a mother comforting her lovesick teenager.
"I have an idea," she said. "Let's go to your room, lie down in bed and just let me hold you. We can keep our clothes on. I know you didn't sleep much last night - let's take a nap. Maybe when you wake up the world will seem a little less confusing."
So we did that. And she was right. Her gentle touch, her kind words, the feel of her body spooned against mine, all did make me feel better. And when I woke up I had a better idea of what I was going to do. My decision was made easier by the fact that I woke up to the feeling of Leslie's lips on my cock. When she had noticed me beginning to stir from sleep, she silently slid down and took me in her mouth, awakening me to a delightful blow job.
"Ummmm, that feels good," I said, and I heard her giggle.
"I thought you might like it," she said, then went back down for more.
When I began to feel the excitement rise in my loins, I stopped her. "I've made a couple of decisions," I said. "First of all, I'm going to fuck you silly. Next of all, I'm going to show you the letter Marcy left for me - I assume you haven't read it."
"No, I think I know pretty much what's in it from what she told me, but I didn't read it."
"Okay, well after we fuck I want you to read it and then answer me a question about if you see what I see. Leave Little Rick alone and come back up here."
She crawled back up to let me put my arms around her and kiss her. She let me help her out of her clothes - she never wears much - and she returned the favor, pilling my shirt up and off and then moving to pull off my trousers. I was still on my back. She climbed on top of me and sat herself down on my groin, steering my proud soldier into her slick pussy. She began scooting her pelvis and I began thrusting, and before long we settled into a smooth and comfortable rhythm. She leaned down to lie on my chest, and we kissed. It started as a sweet gentle kiss, but as the excitement down below began to grow, our kissing became more urgent, our tongues probing and our breathing becoming ragged. She was the first woman other than my wife that I had been inside for more than 20 years and the sensations were at once familiar and novel. For one thing, she was considerably younger and more athletic in her lovemaking than Marcy.
It didn't take long before we both came - I pulsed first and she followed almost immediately. As we came down off the pleasure high I hugged her so tightly I almost squeezed the wind out of her. I realized I was crying. The emotional roller coaster of the past few days combined with the ecstatic rush of our sexmaking crashed in my mind and I collapsed, weak and tired and crushed.
"Are you okay, Rick? Did I do something wrong?"
I forced myself to get a grip. "No, Les, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just a little overcome by all that's happened. Then I straightened up, stiffened my spine, and declared, "Army Colonel's don't cry."
She led me to the shower, we washed and dried each other, then I led her back to the kitchen where I had her sit and read Marcy's declaration of independence while I fixed us both up with stiff drinks.
She finished reading as I set her drink in front of her and sat down across the table from her. She looked up and looked straight into my eyes.
"Wow," she said. "That's a real kick in the nuts."
"Yeah," I said. "But there's one particular part I want get your reading on. Where she says she realizes that what she's doing might lead me to divorce her. As I thought about that after I read it, all I could think was, she knows I might divorce her, yet she goes ahead and does it anyway. Isn't that pretty much like saying that her marriage to me might as well be over? I mean, if I knew something I might do would could cause her to divorce me, I damn well wouldn't do it. Am I reading that right? Is that what she means?"
Leslie hesitated before she replied, considering her words. "I see what you mean," she finally said. "I was going to say that maybe she didn't really think that through as much as she should, but reading the rest of the letter, and having had the conversations about this that we had leading up, I think she knew exactly what she was saying, and I think you read it right."
I took a deep breath. "Well then a divorce is what she's going to get. And for the next five and a half weeks I'm going to fuck you as often as you and Vincent will let me. I don't think I'm of a mind to perform for an audience, but who knows? Maybe we can stream our sessions to his phone or something."
With that Leslie went home to make supper for Vincent. She brought leftovers back after they had eaten, and watched me while I ate.
"I told Vincent that I don't think you should be alone tonight, and that I'd be staying here with you. He's okay with that, only asking that if we have sex, we make a video or stream it to him."
"Okay, I said. "I need to get up and get out in the morning because I have a lot of things I need to do. I need to go to the bank and separate our finances, and I need to see our lawyer and get him started with the divorce paperwork. Marcy laid in plenty of groceries before she left, and I'm actually pretty handy in the kitchen, so I should be all set that way."
