Onion Powder

Nothing all that new. Just my most recent take on a familiar trope. Sit back and enjoy, I don't write hotwife stories so no need for a hissy fit. Yes, I know there will be a few hissy fits anyway.

This Brittany has nothing to do with any other Brittany characters. I often use this name for a cheater to cut down on naming errors.

*******

Onion Powder

The doorbell rang and my wife, who was already up, went to get the door.

Waiting, I sat back thinking back about the trials and travails of our life together.

Memory of a Friday evening:

The doorbell rang. My wife went to the door then went upstairs then came back down, "That was Brittany. She brought some earrings I am wearing tonight."

She went into the kitchen to check up on the sides as I headed out onto the cold deck and our grill. Damn, I hated winter, but grilled steak is worth the pain.

Five minutes later, I was sitting with my wife as she ate a quick dinner wearing her robe, the bare valley between her breasts teasing me and making it clear she had nothing on underneath it. I was not going to get any action with them any time soon and dinner was a bit uncomfortable and awkward. Her sister was getting married the following week and her bachelorette party was tonight at Male Delivery, a full-monty male strip club. Just what I need, my wife watching buff studs with giant cocks flopping them around dancing. I wasn't fat, but sure as hell was not ripped buff with a six-pack and my cock was very much around the median in size. Further, my dancing looked more like a seizure than dancing. I was okay with the naked part. I knew damn well I was well above the median in looks, but the guys at Male Delivery were top one or two percent.

Oh, right. Hi. I'm Tom Hanks. No, I'm not the famous guy, nor am I related to him. My wife is Danielle and we met during my second year at college. I won't bore you with the details of every date we ever had and the ten-second version is that we met at college, we clicked, and the chemistry was very strong. We dated, could not get enough of each other, fucked like bunnies, and eventually made love like bunnies and finally got married the summer after she graduated a year behind me. I am twenty-six and she is twenty-five. She is a solid eight and I married up a bit, but not so much that people wonder if I have a twelve-inch dick or a nine-digit bank account.

I am a civil engineer for Andersen-Womelsdorf Construction, doing mostly surveys and project management work. I make a decent amount, just enough that puts me in the top fifteen percent of male earners. Life is what I call, good enough and we have a nice medium sized three bedroom ranch in a suburb nice enough that private schools are not necessary when we have kids. Our cars are newish and we have enough money in the bank that I don't lie awake every night worrying.

Three years into our marriage, sex was still four or five evenings a week, not because either of us were insatiable. Sometimes sex was just the coupling, meaning joining our bodies and being as close as we could. Other nights I was doing her doggie pretty hard. We both seemed to like the variety.

Fuck, I hated the idea of her going to one of those parties at a strip club.. Unfortunately, two months earlier, my stupid brother chose a club called 'Goldy Locks and the Three Bares' for my other brother's bachelor party and yes, I went. I was the best man and they all chipped in for the five-minute deluxe best man tits-in-your-face lap dance.

Yes, I told my wife, Danielle all about it as she asked me when I got home what had happened. We had a policy of truth and I was not going to break it when I did nothing wrong. I told her that I kept my hands strictly at my sides and no, I didn't do the tongue out 'accidentally lick the tit' as the stripper shimmied her boobs in my face. The urge to motorboat is strong, but I avoided it. I love my wife!

The evening of the bachelor party, I had come home at twenty minutes to one that night, a bit over the limit for driving, but I had an Uber take me there and back. I was buzzed, but not drunk as I wanted to make sure I kept enough control to not end up like some idiot in an internet story who ends up divorced or the wife goes out and gets her own revenge.

She looked at me after my bachelor party story and thought for a second, then sighed and nodded. Things were a bit frosty, but by the next afternoon, she was over it. I got back inside from mowing the lawn to find my wife standing nude with a hand extended toward me with a big smile. She came up and kissed me then said, "I'm not sucking a sweaty dick. Come let's get it all cleaned up."

The shower was a great deal of fun as she cleaned me head to toe carefully, washing my dick very thoroughly then inviting me to clean her lady parts. Lots of kissing and touching which eventually lead to her dropping a wet towel on the floor of the shower to kneel on and yeah, she gave me one heck of an enthusiastic blowjob.

Afterward, she admitted she called the other wives and girlfriends of the men at the bachelor party and found out that I was truly a good boy with my hands planted firmly at my sides during the whole lap dance. Yeah, my brother called me pussywhipped after I sat there without trying to cop a feel or suck a boob.

She looked at me and said, "Yeah, I called around and asked what happened and it came out that you were very much a good boy and your brother teased you about being pussywhipped. THANK YOU for being my loyal guy."

She gave me a smirk and then said, "Now I am going to actually whip you with my pussy."

Yeah, after the shower blowjob, the sex was great. No, an actual whipping pussy was not involved, but there sure was a nice wet one involved and the sex lasted the rest of the afternoon and night including my bride making me dinner naked then sitting me on my recliner and straddling me cowgirl as she fed me a steak. The position could not have been comfortable for Danielle, but dinner rocked. More sex and other fun lasted the rest of the evening as she thanked me in her most personal manner, for keeping my vows. It was a great memory. Unfortunately her evening of debauchery was coming up. Sue me. I didn't like it.

Danielle looked at me and repeated, "Just like you at your brother's bachelor party, I will be good."

As dinner progressed, I smiled at her a bit tentatively. Danielle read my mood again and repeated for who-knows-what number time, "Tom, I'm going to be a good girl like you were a good boy. I promise."

I nodded, knowing that she meant it but knew that bachelorette parties often involved two things which are bad individually, but often a disaster in combination. Alcohol and the VIP room of strip clubs at bachelor and bachelorette parties.

Danielle smiled at me as I gave her my best faux smile.

She looked me in the eyes, "Tom. I promise. Good girl.

I nodded.

She sighed then looked me in the eye and paused. She changed the topic and asked me, "Want seconds of steak?"

I shook my head and she looked at me. There was another pause.

She nodded then said, "I will be back rather late. Probably around one this morning. Sorry. My sister wants to make a late evening of it."

Yeah, I was in a worse place and despite my best efforts, I hid it horribly. She said with another bit of a pause, "Hey, I left my cell phone in my car. I'm only wearing a robe and the garage is cold. Would you get it for me?"

I nodded then headed to the garage and went to her car to look for her cell, but could not find it. I looked all over her car, but came up empty. She went upstairs then came back down two minutes later and she was holding her stomach, "Uh. Did you put in any onions on the steak? I don't feel so great."

I assured her that after three years of marriage that I knew she was allergic to onions and would never do that to the woman I loved.

She nodded then her eyes got big and she ran up the stairs, went into the bathroom, and slammed the door. I followed only to find the door locked. Odd. I wanted to help her, but she had locked me out. I knocked, "Danielle? You okay?"

I heard retching sounds.

I knocked, "Danielle. Please let me help you."

I heard more retching.

I was about to grab the push pin key to unlock the door when she came to the door and unlocked it Then opened it. Her eyes and nose were red and she looked terrible. She said, "Take me to our room. Something I ate is killing me!"

I lifted her and carried her and sat her at the edge of the bed. She asked for her phone and I told her I could not find it in her car. She looked over and found it on her bed stand and called her sister, "Brittany. Something I ate is killing me. I just threw dinner up. I can't make the party."

It sounded like arguing but Danielle ended it with, "I can't be there. Have a good time without me." She held her belly and groaned a bit. She ended the call, stripped off the robe, and laid down. I covered her. She looked at me and said, "No funny business, but hold me. I need comfort and that involves you."

I stripped off and got into bed then spooned her, my bare body embracing hers. She put my hand on her breast but cautioned me against any fondling. She just wanted my intimate embrace. She was soon sleeping in my arms. Yeah, I hated the beginning of the evening thinking of her being in the VIP room, but I loved holding her. No nookie, but I had a nice handful of her soft warm breast. A win is a win and a hand on boob is a win.

Saturday

I woke up the next morning with Danielle cuddling up to me with her cheek on my chest as she rubbed it on my chest and squeezed a side hug, "Good morning, honey." She kissed my cheek then rubbed her cheek on my chest and purred happily.

I side hugged her back, "Good morning."

She sure seemed 100% better than last night. The last time she ate something that did not agree, it took almost a day for her to be back to full strength.

That was strange and I frowned a bit wondering.

She flinched. She could read me like a book and she knew that I thought something was up. I knew her. I looked at her and I asked, "Danielle?"

She looked at me a bit side-eyed, another of her 'tells' when she is avoiding something, "Yeah?'

I asked, "What is going on? Were you actually feeling bad last night?"

She asked with yet another strange expression, "What makes you ask that?"

That was not an answer to what I asked. Nice evasion without an actual lie. Hmmm. I said, "The cell was not in your car and you had only left it on your nightstand. It seems odd you did not know where it was. Also, it usually takes longer to feel better when you eat something that disagrees with you.."

She sighed, clearly thinking about what to say then after a minute admitted, "I faked it. I was feeling fine."

I thought for a second then asked, "And your puffy nose and eyes?

She sighed and said, "When you were in my car looking for my cell. I went into the spice cabinet and pocketed the onion powder shaker you use when you are making things for yourself. I put a bit of onion powder under my nose."

I asked, "You did that for me?"

She came in for a very naked and very awesome hug, "I did that for us. I could not stand that the night was hurting you. I love you, you big insecure idiot. I know women have a much easier time hooking up... well until monetary payment is involved, but I don't see you doing that. You not wanting seconds on a steak night meant you were very upset."

She sighed and added, "Also... Brittany's bragging made me nervous when she said she was going to get her goody-goody sister stumbling drunk for the VIP room. I won't take chances with my marriage!"

I looked at her and said, "You could have just told me."

She sighed then looked down, "It was embarrassing."

I shook my head and said, "Embarrassing? I'm your husband."

She shrugged, "I had pushed to go to the party then I felt embarrassed about wanting to back out."

I was about to respond when she said firmly, "Don't tell me how I feel! Okay?!"

She sighed and looked down again, "Plus. I..."

I waited as she carefully put her words together.

She sighed again, "I don't know. Suddenly I had this terrible feeling about going. No concrete reason. I just had this awful feeling that I needed to be anywhere but the party."

I opened my arms and she came in for another big hug. I kissed the top of her head, "I love you. Till death do us part."

She squeezed the hug and relaxed in my embrace then said, "I'm not in the mood for sex, but hold me."

WORK WORK WORK! She rolled facing away and I spooned her, my bare body embracing hers. I kissed the back of her neck and said, "I love you, Danielle."

She scooted back against me, wiggling her ass against me and I wrapped my arms around her as she said, "I love you Tom."

After some nice spooning and cuddling, we dozed the morning away. Resting with my bride in my arms. The best privilege of my life. Four hours later, she got a call from her mom. Danielle listened and her expression went from a slight smile to looking stricken.

A minute later she set her phone down and told me in a shaky voice that the wedding was off. Danielle then looked at her phone to read the texts and started to cry. It took me ten minutes of calming her to find out that things had gone sideways in a bad bad way in the VIP room and multiple women were involved.

A number of marriages looked like they would end in divorce and several others were hanging by a thread. Most had done things that would not pass the husband test, some 'only' danced nude or half nude with a stripper and got felt up, some 'only' sucked a dick or three, but several, including the bride, got fucked hard.

She wanted more cuddles as she cried about her sister losing her future marriage. I know you want the sister burned alive or sold to a Mexican whorehouse, but that did not happen. My wife was mourning for the loss her sister had taken, even if it was self-inflicted.

That night, cuddles turned to sex. Danielle was grateful for my support and knew damn well I wanted to take her all day, but I held off as she worked through her feelings. Supporting my wife is job one and I am not ashamed to say, that being there for her was my privilege.

Life pretty much returned to normal until...

Three months later, Danielle told me she was having our first child, a girl we named Cassie. A year and a half after that, we had our second, a boy we named Justin.

My mind came back to the present as my daughter came in and kissed me on the cheek and said, "Hi Daddy! Jack is parking the car. Ready for your thirtieth-anniversary dinner?"

I nodded. My son and his wife were meeting us at Carlsen's Steakhouse. Steak for dinner? YES PLEASE! Steak paid for by my awesome kids? YES PLEASE!

Jack came in and shook my hand, "It will be my privilege to drive you two to dinner, sir!"

I sighed, "Jack, call me anything but sir. It makes me feel older than I actually am."

I liked my son-in-law, but he was so formal in his respect. Don't get me wrong, I love that he is a hard working man who gives me respect, but the formality. I smiled and said to him, "Just call me, Tom."

He looked at me and said, "Okay, si... er Tom."

My wife was standing behind my daughter and I stood up and patted my pocket pretending to make sure my keys were there. The ring box was there. A nice anniversary ring inside.

My wife looked at me. No way in hell I could fool her as she knew me too well. She looked at my pocket and smiled. She knew. She kissed my cheek, "I love you, Tom."

*******

Author's note: I'm hoping at least one of you has a smile. We could use a bit of happiness in Loving Wives once in a while, though one I'm working on is one of my 'Evil rich bad guys' is quite a bit darker and a heck of a lot longer.