Not So Funny At All

I really enjoyed

NOT SO FUNNY

by NorthWI. At the beginning he mentioned he would be open to alternate endings. I had some issues with the MCs wife and mother and decided the resolve them. I wrote this as a tribute to his original story, you will need to read his story to understand this. I hope my work does not detract from the original.

All sex is between people 18 or older. Not a lot of it.

Listed this as Loving Wives because that is where NorthWI placed his and i wanted it easy to find.

Lisa

A while back I blew up my marriage with a stupid practical joke I pulled on my husband. We were celebrating our five-year college reunion and my closest friends and their husbands had decided to rent a place on the beach and enjoy a three-day weekend. My best friend, Angie suggested we tease the boys like we used to for spring break.

Things got pretty hot back then, although nothing like those X-rated beach parties you see in those porn clips. We would wear sexy swim suits and cock tease the guys a little to try to give them all boners and a few blue balls. Beach volley ball was pretty effective. The guys would retreat to the water to submerge their 'rudders'. We compiled dick lists rating the boys we tormented and posted them back at the dorm. It was all good fun.

Back then six of us women would share a room in a motel near the beach. Two double beds and a fold out couch made us close friends. Sometimes we did not even fold out the couch. The boys were passed out in their room from too much sun and too many shots. I was the only Mrs. in the group. It was our last year of college and we mermaids were sitting in our room shot gunning beer in our bathing suits when Angie came up with a challenge.

"Who is up for a moonlight swim in the pool!?" my BFF asked.

I was on my way to the lady's room but I joined the enthusiastic cheer. Then Angie sang out. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" Five college babes headed to the 'closed pool' while I was stuck on the throne. I followed as quickly as I could and when I arrived the five tipsy twits were in the pool throwing their swim suits onto pool landing.

I was about to join them when Angie pulled herself up and rested her knockers on the edge of the pool. Her pink nipples looked painfully hard and pebbled over.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE LISA!" I froze. "Since you are the rotten egg, you have to do a strip tease on the shore before you dive in."

Four of my sisters stood right next to Angie displaying bare shoulders and a lot of cleavage their actual nipples hidden just below the lip of the poolside. Pale white skin that was usually hidden from view was on display. Angie's boobs were laid out like they were being served up on a buffet line. The dark tan of her chest was a startling contrast to the flesh that normally never saw the light of day. The clothes everyone had been wearing back in the room were scattered all over. I thought for a moment of scooping them up and retreating to the room with their outfits. The idea of five hotties in their birthday suits begging me to unlock the door was very tempting. It got me wet.

While I was fantasizing, they were singing "Dah dah dah, dah dah dah." To the tune of the stripper. It was not much of a tease. I jerked off my top and threw it on the back of a beach chair. My rock-hard nips were aching in the cold night air. Then I came close to a face plant when I caught my left foot in my bottoms. I did manage to keep my balance on one foot but I felt like I had my pussy on display to the audience in the pool for way too long. As I untangled the foot on my raised leg, five pairs of eyes seemed locked on my slit.

An odd thought crossed my mind. I hope I dried it properly after I peed. Then I realized it was soaking wet now from being aroused. I turned red as a lobster from embarrassment. I took three quick steps and leaped over my hooting audience to end with a cannon ball in the water.

I held my breath and stayed under water. Floating at the bottom of the pool with my eyes closed. I felt insulated from the chaos of the world. I felt my pounding heart slow and calm return to my world. Then with my lungs burning from the long dive I shot upward and porpoised out of the water to rejoin my friends.

"My goodness Lisa, I did not know you were into solo skinny dipping." Angie was settling the black top of her bikini in place. It slowly dawned on me they were all wearing bikinis under their regular suits. I had been played and pranked. By the time I figured it out, all of the clothes had disappeared and I would have to face five challenges before I could return to the room.

Everyone gave me a hard time for the long shower I took after getting back to the safety of the room. I told them I paid my share of the room and would use as much soap as I wanted. We all laughed.

(*)(*)

It occurred to me later that Mike never made it to any of our beach parties. I don't remember what interfered. Sometimes he just wanted alone time camping in the woods. He was very focused on school, soccer and me. But he would also pick-up part-time work so he could have money to spend on me. Whatever the reason was I felt guilty he had missed out on all of our high jinks. I hoped our reunion would give him a taste of our experience.

People have been very critical of my thoughtless actions. The term coldhearted fucking bitch comes to mind. They become even more incensed when they hear my major was psychology. Before anyone brings up grades, I was a straight A student. On the other hand, I never practiced as a clinical psychologist. When I got out of school I got a job with a huge international company. I worked in their human resource department arranging training and group seminars. My diploma was basically a wall decoration.

This is not an unusual circumstance. Mike even had two degrees he did not need for his work in construction. It demonstrated his dedication to finish what he started, but had no real practical value for him. In case I sound disrespectful I want you to know he was brilliant at his job. Planning, organizing and motivating his team seemed to come naturally to him.

He was able to install a pool and privacy fence for our house in record time with incredible savings. I loved laying out by that pool and had a secret fantasy that someday Mike would come home, rip off my skimpy bikini and fuck me silly in the backyard. It was just a dream. He would never do something like that because he had too much respect for me. He would never do anything to put me down.

I knew he loved my butt and I would try to get him to fondle it, but he would pull his hand away as if he touched a hot stove if he thought anyone was looking. He probably would have been more 'handsy' if I had not pretended to be scandalized, but I thought he knew I secretly craved his touch.

We had been joking about raising tent poles at the reunion when Angie said she would like to actually see some strange cock. I don't remember who thought of disappearing swimwear, but it worked perfectly and sunk my marriage.

(*)(*)

I was finishing up a pity party with my BFF. We had been drinking and I mentioned to Angie that I just wanted Mike to come back home. At this point my marriage was long dead. If he just gave me a chance to talk, I thought we could reconcile. I don't know if Angie was drunker than usual or if she was tired of my sad refrain. Her response was pretty harsh.

"Lisa if you think Mike is ever coming home, you are bat shit crazy. Your best chance to get him back was when he streaked out of the water. You did not listen to me when I told you to go after him! You just got mad at him." Angie looked like she had bitten into something rotten. "I should have gone after him myself and taken my licks. This crap would never have happened if I had not encouraged you to punk him. Maybe if I gave him someone to vent his anger on, I would have saved you two a world of heartache."

I remembered my last moments with my husband were filled with angry thoughts. I was pissed at him for flashing his package at my friends, even though I was responsible for it happening. My last view of him was focused on that tight white ass as he walked out of my life. I think my last words to him were something like "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I started to cry. Angie hugged me and softly whispered, "You really need to see a headshrinker.

(*)(*)

It took a while, but eventually I overcame my embarrassment and scheduled an appointment. I have a degree in psychology and did not want anyone to see me going into the office. I cannot imagine how hard it must be for ordinary people.

It took a few sessions before I began to understand myself. I was not happy with way I looked in the rear-view mirror. The demeaning pranks I played on my friends were a twisted way to feel better about myself. My husband had opened his heart to me about his childhood and why he hated to be shamed in front of others and I turned around and did exactly that, knowing it had destroyed his relationship with his mother. Doing the same things and expecting different results was nuts.

I also blamed my husband for throwing away my marriage. I knew he hated conflict. If he got poor service at a restaurant, he would not complain. He just would not go back. It had taken a while to find a boss he could work for because he hated drama. He avoided playing golf with friends to avoid disagreements. Mike would not even call his mom because he would get stuck nodding his head and agreeing to whatever she said knowing he would not actually go along with any of it. I was wanting to challenge this guy to the fight of the century and I wanted to win! I blindly thought that would bring us together and we could start making a family. I was delusional.

As I worked through my issues. I found myself wondering about Mike's upbringing, his relationship with his mother. What happened to make him the way he was. My psychologist told me I should concentrate on myself but when I realized I had never even met his mother I knew I needed to know more.

I arranged to meet with her at Mickie D's, the coffee place I suggested first was "Not the sort of place I would ever go to." according to his mom. We had a normal conversation about Mike and how proud she was of him. She prayed we would get back together and give her grandbabies. She would watch them for free and her husband could not complain. "Even if you and Mike don't patch things up, you are still my daughter. If you ever have kids, it would bring me joy to watch them for you."

Our meeting almost ended there. If it had, my world would have been a different place. Before I left, I had to ask her about the spankings. It was her opinion that schools had fallen apart when they stopped spankings. She pretty much blamed school shootings on the lack of corporal punishment. Then she dropped the bombshell.

"Mike was pretty full of himself the week he left for college, I had to give him four good ones with a hickory stick to get him sorted out." I was shocked, I thought the spankings only happened when he was a little kid. "Since he had it out, I pinched the tip of his pee-pee between my thumb and pointer finger and when it started to wake up, I pinched it even harder to let him know who was boss. Then I told him never to let his little head get him into trouble his big head could not get him out of. Just like I always did. That boy had a nice dick even if it was a little small." She told me perfectly serious.

I found myself in an emergency meeting with my shrink. She listened to me vent. Then reminded me that the only one I could really change was myself. She felt I should be focusing on myself, not playing Sherlock Holmes.

I left the Doctors office feeling empty. I thought I drove aimlessly, but I ended up parked in front of the hamburger joint I met Mike's mom at. She had mentioned that one of the gals behind the counter had been in her care. I decided to talk to the young woman but was resigned to the fact that she might have already gone home.

Her name badge said 'Mary'. She said she was due for a break and we sat in a booth with the coffees I bought in front of us. I was trying to figure out how to start. How to bring up the questions I had to have answers to.

Before I could start Mary said "If it's a boy, don't hire her!" I did not have a response to that, "If it is a girl, she's all right. Short time outs and rewards for good behavior are how she manages the girls. It's pretty much torture for the boys." It literally was torture.

I got contact information for Mary, a list of a few other graduates from daycare, and a catalog of the treatment the boys went through. Mary's parents never believed anything she told them, even reported her outrageous attention seeking stories to the perpetrator. She was terrified Mike's mom would retaliate. As quickly as she could she proved to her parents she no longer needed a sitter and got out as fast as she could. Mary felt guilty that she never stopped Mike's mom, but she was just a kid then. She said she felt a lot better just talking to me.

I ended up in my second emergency psych session of the day. I was resigned to my shrink chiding me again for not focusing on me. I had barely started telling her what Mary had told me when I found myself riding with my therapist to a large building downtown. My therapist held my hand as I relayed what I had heard to the DA and some of her underlings.

It felt like I had started by rolling a little snowball downhill and ended up with an avalanche. Mike's mom had been taking in kids for over eighteen solid years. Never less than two, rarely more than six. Roughly half were males that she abused. I volunteered to help with initial interviews and my work with the DA's office lead down the path to me getting my license in psychology. The case was the largest case of abuse the city had ever seen.

They tried to get Mike to testify. He promised to go to jail before he would do anything against his mom. He still wanted her to love him, even though he could not have her in his life. He had a lot of denial and minimized the things she did to him. A lot of it he took the blame for, even though he was a powerless kid and she was an adult when it started.

The trial was a circus with a sequestered jury, celebrity commentators and a full house of spectators. It was scheduled to last at least a month. After a week the lawyers cut a deal. The molester babysitter would serve fifteen years before she became eligible for parole.

The DA and her staff invited me to their celebration dinner. Toward the end of the meal I asked if it did not bother her that with good time the perpetrator could get out in as little as ten years. The DA laughed and said "She is never getting out."

"Her first time at the parole board hearing we will invite all the people she abused, their families and some of their friends, pay for their transportation, lodging and food to give them a chance to voice their views. A Justice vacation. Since we cut a deal, these people never had a chance for their voices to be heard. They will roast her. She will feel like she has gone to hell. The board will listen to them and recommend she come back in five or ten years. Even if the board signs off on her someday the governor will never let her out. She will die in prison." The DA said with conviction.

Over time it came out that Mike's mom had been molested as a child (like most molesters) and was avenging what they did to her by making innocent kids suffer.

I eventually opened an office as a psychologist. I also found out I enjoy volunteering time with the homeless. I have a fiancé who was one of the investigators for the case. My life is pretty satisfying but sometimes I wish I had a degree in psychiatry so that I could prescribe the medications my patients need. I told my boyfriend and he said: "So, go back to school."

"Do you realize how long that would take?" I think my voice cracked.

"In ten years, you will be ten years older whether you go to school or not. Just do it!" he advised me with a smile.

(*)(*)

Mike

The move to Colorado was probably the best decision I ever made. I found businesses I could work with. I built a work crew that I was proud to be a part of. I polished my management skills.

When people screwed up, I pulled them to the side and we discussed what could be done better. I never treated my crew as underlings. Never shouted at them or derided them. I tried to find sober individuals who wanted to get home to their families at the end of the day, not go out and get drunk. I did not want to be working next to the guy with the hangover if heavy equipment was involved.

I got my contractor's license and went into business for myself. The degrees in business and accounting suddenly started to pay off. My first wife had called them "expensive wallpaper" but now they were gold. The little brunette I married was home with our two kids. When she had time on her hands, she started calling people we had done jobs for. Just checking to see how things were holding up. If one of them had a problem she would bug me to fix it. It was more common to find out that they were thinking about something new and asked her if she could have me come by with a quote.

That x-wife of mine really blew up my mother. She almost got me thrown in prison too. Fortunately, I live in Colorado and have a common last name so no one connects me with that miserable case. I wish my X would get a life and stop messing with mine.

I have to go. My foreman is going to introduce me to the new hire. He's finishing up his speech now.

"We are a pretty easy crew to get along with but you need to know one thing we don't tolerate is practical jokes... here is our boss, Mike."