A/N - Hello! I'm back with another 'Loving Wives' tale. The feedback I received for my first attempt was generally pretty good, the one general criticism being the lack of an answer to the question of 'Why did the wife cheat?' Took that criticism on board, so if I ever write a similar tale (cheating wife etc) I'll ensure I answer that question by the end.
However, during my time reading many of the stories within this category, they seem to fall into a few different sub-categories - cheating wives and a husband's revenge or reconciliation, cuckolding, couples enjoying group sex, or a wife being gangbanged. I'm sure there are others popular sub-genres, but that's mostly what I've seen from browsing.
Basically, the website describes the 'Loving Wives' category as 'Married extra marital fun: Swinging, sharing and more'. This story does fit that description though perhaps not in the way always expected.
The orientation described in this story will not be entirely accurate but, as this is fiction, I'm hoping you can forgive that it's a simplified example. While I'm sure there are perhaps similar stories to what is to come, I'm hoping it'll be unique enough to earn your interest. It's a mixture again of 'Loving Wives' and 'Romance'.
Usual caveats. All editing and reviewing done by the author with Microsoft Word. Spelling is usually spot on. Australian / British English. Definitely the occasional typo. Grammar can be ropey at times, but it's been a long time since I sat in a classroom. All mistakes owned up to by the author. Please remember this is only fantasy and I'm an amateur.
Comments and feedback appreciated as always.
*****
Cathy
Sipping at her glass of wine, she rose from the couch again, almost wearing a groove into the carpet as she paced the living room, waiting to hear his car in the driveway outside. The kids were home and in their rooms, completing their homework. Dinner was in the oven, ready to eat as soon as he was inside. It was the conversation that needed to take place after their evening meal which scared her to death.
Walking back into the kitchen, she was ready to pour another glass but stopped herself. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, willing her hands to stop shaking. If it wasn't her hands, it was the tears that wanted to escape her. What she was about to tell her husband could potentially end their marriage. But it was time to be honest about their relationship but, more importantly, herself.
Hearing his car pull up outside, she smoothed down his favourite dress, quickly checked herself in the mirror, waiting for him to appear through the door. She waited near the front door, ready to hug and kiss him like she did every evening. Though the kids were now both in high school, she still only worked part-time, preferring to be home when they left in the morning and returned in the afternoon.
"Hey, babe," her husband stated, flashing her that smile he always had for her. Dropping his bag, he hugged her tightly. Her emotions almost got the better of her as she held him tightly in return.
"Hello, honey. Good day?"
"Same shit, different day."
She chuckled as that was his usual response. But she knew he loved what he did. He'd been a mechanic since he left high school but was now an area manager, looking after a group of workshops in the western parts of the city. Kissing her on the lips, it was never a peck or chaste kiss. Even after fifteen years of marriage, his passion for her still ran hot. It's what would make their conversation later so difficult. Her husband loved her with ever fibre of his being, doted on their daughter and son, and was loved and adored by friends and family alike.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her to the kitchen, hearing him sniff. "You're cooking lasagna?"
"My specialty. Just for my honey bear." She called him that as he had a rather hairy chest, he'd grown a beard, and, well, he kept her warm like a bear in hibernation whenever they were in bed.
She squealed as he squeezed her tightly, leaving another kiss on her lips. "Thank you, babe. You know I love your lasagna. Still not sure what you put in it though." Her glanced into her green eyes. "Still think it's cocaine."
Giggling, she playfully slapped his shoulder. "Stop being silly and go wash up before dinner."
"Yes, babe. One thing though." Before she could escape, she was in his arms again, laying another smooch of her lips. She kissed him back. She'd always loved kissing him. "That'll get me through the next few minutes."
Sighing to herself as he walked away, she retrieved the oven dish and garlic bread from the oven, the bowl of salad from the fridge. Calling down their two children, their daughter, Chloe, appeared first, setting the table without being asked. Despite being a sometimes moody thirteen-year-old, she helped around the house with chores, knowing it was the only way she'd make pocket money. Their eleven-year-old son, Charlie, followed within a couple of minutes, sitting at the table, playing on his handheld gaming device. Chloe made a comment about his lack of assistance. Thankfully, there was no argument as Charlie wasn't listening.
Her husband, Mark, walked in just as she was serving up. Wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts, she couldn't help look him up and down like she did every day. She knew how handsome he was as most of her girlfriends thought the same thing. Now forty years old, he'd simply grown more handsome with age. She sometimes wondered why he was even still with her considering the main issue with their marriage. She knew, if they were to split up, he wouldn't be single for long.
Helping her serve everything, there was the usual chit-chat about their days, the two parents showing plenty of interest in their children. Their daughter was now in high school and there was the usual drama with friends. Their son was still in primary school and enjoyed going to school every day. Mark talked briefly about his day, still desiring to be on the workshop floor, but the salary he now earned, and the responsibility meant it was worth it.
Husband and children cleaned up as she disappeared to the living room to relax, Mark walking out with a glass of wine for her. "Thank you," she stated, smiling up at him. She heard chuckling from the kitchen a few minutes later, her husband no doubt regaling their children with amusing stories, whether from his day or just making things up to earn their laughter.
Sitting down beside her once that was done, she cuddled into his side, the kids taking an armchair each, spending a couple of hours as a family before their son disappeared to play his games console and their daughter wanted to spend time talking to her friends. Leaving husband and wife together, Cathy picked up the remote and turned off the television.
"Mark, we need to talk."
She felt him flinch, aware of how that might sound. She knew most conversations that started with those four words could sometimes lead to heartbreak, anger, recriminations, accusations, and gods only knew what. Turning to face him, she looked at his face and saw the concern. He took a deep breath before he met her eyes. "Lay it on me, babe. What's up?"
He sounded so casual, but she knew his heart would be beating like mad. But when he took his hand in hers, she almost burst into tears. She could be about to ask for divorce, but he could still sense her own nerves and wanted to comfort her, just like he'd done during their entire life together.
Taking a deep breath, she drained her wine glass, placing it on the small table next to the couch, before meeting his eyes again. "Mark, I love you."
"I love you too, babe. You're my moon and my stars."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. He said that to her nearly every day. She knew how much he loved her. He was devoted to her as a husband more than any other husband she knew, even her own father, even his father to his mother.
"Mark, I've got something to confess. For a long time now, for years, probably most of my life, I've always felt a little different. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was something in my mind that just... I'm not really sure how to explain it all."
