Sorry, no explicit sex. No one burnt at the stake. Not a trace of a Navy Seal or an SAS soldier. Just a poor young lad trying to live his life out and running into problems as he did what he saw as the best thing for his family(s).
It's a bit on the long side and I thought about splitting it up, but couldn't decide where without loosing the overall plot. So, get yourself a nice cup of tea (or something stronger?) and settle yourself down comfortably.
Be warned! It could just have a happy ending.
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IT WAS ALL MY FIRST WIFE'S FAULT!
No ---- I suppose that wasn't really fair. It was what she wanted and I was so damn blinded by love that I keeled over and agreed.
So, I guess it was mainly her fault, wasn't it?
I met and married Cloe when I was but a lad, and her less than a year younger. Couldn't keep my pecker in my pants when I first dated her, and she seemed to have a related problem with her panties.
Result ----- Three months into our relationship and I am regally informed that she was already two months pregnant, and our parents were planning the wedding. I should add that this was all a few years ago now, and in those days it was more or less expected.
My Mum and Dad thought that she was a good catch, her Dad being the sort that went to work in a suit every morning, and as far as her parents were concerned I was the only one in the frame.
Not that married life was all that bad as it turned out, and young as we were, we managed to make ends meet, even after renting a nice little flat on the edge of town.
The edge that her parents lived on of course, but I didn't mind, Dad didn't say much, and Mum thought her offspring was moving up in the world.
And so I was!
Derek, Cloe's Dad, had got me into his company, and another year or so, if I kept my nose clean, then there was every chance that I could wear a suit to work as well.
Oh such times!
Mum was tickled pink and even my Dad bought me a pint when I bumped into him down the local.
The little one popped out on time and turned out to be a healthy bouncing little boy who we called Derek. Yes, that's right, after her Dad, not mine. Cloe had a bit of a hard time giving birth --- Something about pelvic something or other, that I didn't understand and to be perfectly frank with you, had no wish to.
Women's things ------ Yuk!
Life carried on and I settled down into married bliss, but, though we took precautions, less than a year later Cloe was preggers again ---- Up the spout!
Don't know how it happened or what went wrong, but her dad called me irresponsible and her Mum refused to talk to me for two weeks.
My parents didn't say a lot.
Duly and accordingly, my second son popped out, and of course Cloe had a hard time again and naturally, I got the blame.
"So unthoughtful," muttered her mother whenever she passed me.
"So irresponsible," growled her Dad.
My Mum just shrugged her shoulders and of course, Dad said nothing.
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Little Thomas, named after Cloe's uncle, was however bright and well I'm pleased to report, but my relationship with Cloe took a tumble. Sex, what there was of it, became a chore for her, and became so infrequent that I thought I might have to start taking notes, to remember how to do it.
"We can't go on like this Cloe," I informed her, about four thirty, one miserable Saturday afternoon in March. "We haven't had sex together for nearly three weeks."
"Two weeks and four days," she replied, looking me in the eye. "And if I have my way, then it'll be another three weeks at least."
"But what's wrong with you ----- with us?" I implored her. "We both used to enjoy it so much."
"You don't have to go through having babies David," Cloe answered, taking the same tack as she'd taken the last couple of times I'd bought the subject up. "You know I can't take birth control pills, and I'm damned if I'm going to take the risk of getting pregnant again."
It was true!
After the birth of young Derek, she'd come home to tell me that the doctor had recommended that the pills would be unsuitable for her. I'd heard something about injections and things, but they were all very untried back then, and as I've said, women's things were an unknown quantity to me, so nothing come of that either. We'd settled for condoms and I'd always been very careful, but obviously we'd slipped up somewhere along the line.
Damn it!
"But here must be some other way Cloe."
"Not for me there isn't," she insisted.
"But I can't go on for ever with no sex from my wife," I pointed out.
"Then get yourself done," Cloe suggested with a smile.
"Done?" I demanded. "What do you mean, done?"
"You know David," she came back haughtily. "Done ---- doctored ----- Have the snip."
"What," I cried out in dismay. "You mean get myself ........ Have my ......... "
I could hardly get the words out.
"That's right David," she carried on. "Mum and I have been looking into it, and you can get it done on the National Health."
"But I wouldn't be able to have any more babies Cloe," I pleaded, the thought of some doctor messing about with my thingy quite turning my stomach.
"We've got two already," she reminded me. "Why the hell would we want any more?"
She had a point. But ........?
"But I'm too young to think of anything like that."
"Your choice David," Cloe carried on. "If you really love me, then you'd do this for me."
Oh Shit!
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We tossed the idea back and forth for several days, to my embarrassment her parents becoming involved. How the hell do you sit and discuss your private parts being mucked about like that with your mother-in-law for Christ's sake?
My objections were battered down eventually, and by the end of the week I'd agreed to go and see the doctor. I managed to miss the first appointment but got such an ear-bashing that I turned up for the second.
"Bit young to be doing something like this, aren't you?" The good doctor questioned me.
I agreed with him, but explained the circumstances, and he let it pass.
"You do realize that this is not reversible?" He next hit me with.
Now in those days, as you may have detected, I was a bit young and wet behind the ears. And to be honest, I'd never even thought about that.
"Not like the young man from Kent then?" I quipped back to hide my uncertainty, but he'd either never heard of the somewhat cheeky song, or maybe didn't find it funny. Either ways, he nodded sagely and carried on. Within ten minutes I was booked in to see the specialist, and a few weeks later a slot popped up due to a cancellation, and I was in.
Then I was out again ------- Feeling a little bit sore down there of course, but otherwise undetectably different from before. I was however looking forward to re-establishing my relations with my pretty young wife, even though I had to wait ten days to be checked that I was indeed firing blanks.
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Ten days? ----------- What a joke!
It was a good two weeks or more before Cloe agreed to perform the twin-dancing act with me, and even then it seemed that I was doing the dancing, and it was her that was acting.
Bugger it!
I was not a happy bunny, and as days and then weeks passed, I began to wonder if we would ever get back to where we were, and if I had gone through what I'd been through for nothing.
Five months later!
Well, actually depending on when you started from, it could have been more. But no matter, some time had passed and my conjugal rights were still somewhat left of centre. Not that Cloe had denied me entirely, but it still wasn't good. Christ, I didn't know what good was anymore!
Then my world collapsed around me, and I have some doubts whether any of you can believe this. I'll take you through it as I remember it, though you will, I hope understand why my memory was a trifle confused at the time.
"Can't get anything right, can you, you hopeless article," my glorious mother in law greeted me one otherwise pleasant Tuesday morning. It was about eleven thirty, and I was half way through making myself a nice cup of tea, though I never actually got round to drinking it.
"Sorry?"
What else does one say?
"Can't even get yourself doctored correctly," she hit me with. Verbally that is --- Not physically.
"Pardon?"
Ok --- That wasn't much better than sorry, was it?
"Cloe, the poor sweet darling," she chastised me angrily. "You've got her pregnant again. Don't you have any sense? Can't you control your animal urges?"
"Pregnant? But she can't be," I cried out in astonishment.
"Well she is you fool," she shot back at me. "If I was you, then I'd go and demand my money back from that damn useless doctor."
"I can't," I whined back, pathetic in my turmoil. "It was done free on the National Health."
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Suffice to say, that I got much the same tirade from Cloe when she came home, and the cold shoulder for the rest of the night.
But something wasn't right there, was it?
Might seem obvious to you, sat there on your comfortable chair in front of your computor with little else to worry about, but for me, it was such a shock that it took an hour or more to fully sink in.
Let's be honest here, I was still nowt but a lad back then.
I didn't say anything, but the next day I took the two kids over to Mum and Dad's on my own as I did every Wednesday evening, Cloe having decided that she didn't like going over to that part of town.
