Something We Have to Talk About by NICI , RealDoc's Sequel
This is my first attempt in Literotica so please be gentle in your comments. Constructive feed back is welcome. There is no sex in this story. I explore a difficult situation between two strong willed person but with an unexpected end. Marital discord always hurts many.
You may notice the deliberate change from the observer viewpoint that Nici used to the first person.. This sequel picks up immediately after the Nici's first chapter. Please read her story first as this will make no sense otherwise. I have tried to be true to the personalities that NICI portrayed. How well I did this is really only NICI's call.
The next morning Jonathan eased off the couch , bleary eyed and with the mother of all hangovers. Although Jonathan drank regularly and daily, he had not been sot drunk in many years. He stumbled to the bathroom, touching the walls as he went to keep from falling. He emptied his full bladder then felt nauseated, kneeled at the urine filled commode and vomited more. Finally, he pulled himself up disrobed and half fell into the shower. The warm water and shampoo felt good. His head throbbed but his mind cleared a little as he turned on the cool water. He wanted to wash yesterday down the drain. Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and went methodically about drying his still throbbing head.
He looked into the mirror and for the first time, he really didn't like what he saw. She WAS right. Who would want him...even with her wedding vows, he could see he how he would not be an attractive male partner. He groaned in self depreciation, recognizing he had let himself become someone he didn't want to be. Balding, beer bellied, a heavy growth of black stubble covering his face, bleary eyed, his red eyes staring back at him like coals of fire, burning into his soul. He felt himself ugly. He turned away from his tarnished self image to finish drying. He looked at his massive upper body, muscled and very strong. His thick arms showed the effects of hard manual labor. His hands were calloused and thick from his heavy mechanics work. He stretched and dressed in jeans and a jean jacket.
He sat on their bed, holding his head in his massive hands, squeezing his temples to find relief from the pounding headache. The house was eerily quiet. Empty of sounds , people and love. Emptiness surrounded him. He felt like the time when as a small child he got lost on grandpa's 400 acre farm.
He cried just like he did when he was 5 years old, lost and alone with night time overtaking him. Jonathan was also scared just as he had been when he was physically lost. He could find no loving parents and grandparents searching and rescuing him. This time he was truly lost because "home" was lost, not Jonathan. Susan was his home. She was gone...lost to him, hiding in the secrecy of her adultery.
Images of her spreading her legs and coaxing a blond stud to her dripping pussy flashed through his head. He could hear her moans of pleasure as another mans cock filled her stretched vagina. He daydreamed seeing her well hung stud lift her hips to penetrate her. In his imagination, he could hear her urging this son of a bitch to deeper and faster sexual fulfillment. He groaned in his soul. Was he supposed to love her doing this?
His anger began to rise as the pain of his plight overwhelmed him. He wanted to fight back, that's how he defended himself in his youth. But he just could not see himself physically hurting the only woman he ever loved. How could she fuck another man and ask him to love her for doing it. Not just having done it, but continuing to do it. She was giving another man first priority in her life. She had cordoned off her secret life, preventing him from entering or even knowing of the details. How could she split her life into two parts with each separate from the other. How could she ever imagine him accepting and even encouraging her adultery 'so I can be happy'? Did not he have feelings to. He had his pride, even though she had trampled on it. Surely it wasn't his ego that made him hate being cuckolded. He slammed his fists into the mattress . He grabbed a pillow and beat it to a pulp. That's how he felt about the bastard that was fucking his wife and with his life, marriage and family.
Arising, he walked gingerly to the kitchen to make a 'double strong' pot of high test coffee. This was Susan's job but she had fled back to her anonymous lover. She was most likely making coffee for him after a night of snuggling and wild sex.
Taking the first cup almost chugging it down with two aspirin, he poured a second cup and returned to the bed room again. He sat on the bed again, sucking the black wake up liquid. He looked around. Interesting that all Susan's clothes and cosmetics, even her tooth brush was still here. Her closet was full of the familiar dresses and scarves and shoes. She seemingly took nothing except for a small clutch bag. He wondered if it contained only her birth control pills . He hoped she remembered to take them. Probably it had her wallet, tissue and a sexy thong he had never seen.
His mind began to clear as the caffeine took over from the left overs of the alcoholic binge. He had to come up with a plan for the day. He could not count on Susan to help with anything anymore. Not even the children. He didn't trust her judgment about anything. Where to start?? He had to have a plan to survive this assault on his manhood and marriage.
"When the going gets tough, the tough get going". Seems he heard that President Nixon had said that. Well he was going to be tough. He may be ugly but he was tough and the situation called for real toughness and a deep reach down into his soul, all the way down to his family of origin who still resided there in his memory. His grandfather was his idol now that his dad had died. His mother was a source of strength and wisdom also. This tragedy could not be born alone. The strong always seek guidance and help from trusted family and his family was strong just as he was.
Jonathan was an only son of an only son and the ties that bind were iron clad. He thought how he had been taught that family's must stick together. Susan had forgotten that, He was taught that blood runs deeper than water. Oddly, he thought, those "blood" ties never really included Susan. She had her family that he also really enjoyed and respected , but blood was thicker than water and it was to his own family he was going.
He headed for his sturdy old Ford 250 double cab pickup. Passing through the kitchen, he saw the empty whiskey bottle that destroyed his ability to think clearly the night before. He opened the fridge for some orange juice but found only beer cans staring at him. Suddenly, a light came on in his head. He knew that alcohol was a part of his problem. He cursed audibly although only his own ears heard his angry outburst. He picked up the empty whiskey bottle and threw it into the garbage can. Then methodically and with a grim stressed tight smile on his face, he opened and emptied each beer can into the sink, throwing each into the garbage before attacking the next inviting can. Soon the garbage can was full of cold empty beer cans. The lower portion of the fridge was empty. He closed the door, said a little prayer as he closed it. One aspect of his life was forever closed. He vowed to never touch alcohol again. Never again was ANYTHING going to rule his life. Susan was not going to dominate him anymore. He was a strong man physically and vowed to regain his emotional strength. He had to be up to the challenge his wife had put to him the night before.
He strode confidently toward his truck. Putting his hands into his pocket he remembered he had left the keys in the kitchen. Returning to the kitchen he rubbed his face and felt the hard stubble. Another light came on in his mind. He was not going to be the man he saw in the mirror earlier this morning. With a determined stride he turned to the bathroom. Back in the bathroom he sprayed deodorant into the air that reeked of vomit. He grabbed his shave cream applying a liberal amount he whisked it and the stubble off , rinsing it down the drain. He patted on the cool after shave. The light stinging and cold felt refreshing. Then he brushed his teeth with a vengeance then carefully followed this with a liberal amount of mouth wash. He vowed it would not remain undisturbed under the sink anymore. He smiled into the mirror, he wasn't as ugly now as he was a few minutes ago His beer belly had to go, and soon.
Another light came on in his head. Yep, he had got lazy and out of condition. His doctor had told him months ago to start a walking program. That was when he had to have stitches in his hand from a crush injury which happened at work. Jonathan had ignored that advice at the time but now the doctors admonition sounded loud and clear in Jonathan's ears and mind. He vowed to heed good advice from whatever source it came from now on.
He called his grandad as he did every week. He had a habit of visiting him at least every other weekend taking his three kids to visit his grandad. Grandad loved Jonathans children but had little to say about Susan. Susan never went with Jonathan to visit either his grandad or his mother. This particular phone call was on a week day which was definitely unusual. His grandad answered noting that the call was unusual in timing. Jonathan acknowledged that and told his grandad that he really needed his advice on a matter of great concern to Jonathan. His grandad invited him over right away.
Jonathan then called his mom. Jonathan told his mother that he needed her and wanted her to go with him to see his grandad ,her father in law. Jonathan's mother and father in law were close. She asked Jonathan to pick her up. She would be ready in 10 minutes. They all knew some serious matters were to be discussed.
He unplugged the coffee maker, locked the house and slipped behind the wheel of his sturdy Ford 250 diesel extended cab pick up. The familiar deep guttural sounds of the diesel as it coughed to life seemed comforting. Not everything in life had changed yesterday. He loved the sound and smell of diesel. It was his livelihood and nobody knew more about how they worked than he did. As he pulled out of the driveway, he looked at the fine house his hours and hours of hard labor with a lot of over time had afforded him and his family. Then he felt the loss of his wife, perhaps due to his absence at home from working so much. Had he driven her into a lovers arms by spending his time making money and not paying attention to her. She never appeared to be a 'high maintenance" woman. Had he let her down?
Jonathan was convinced that, it was SHE who had crossed that line this time. SHE had sought out forbidden fruits. Her craving for happiness had gone to far. She had crossed the forbidden bridge in marriage and wasn't coming back. She had given herself, her love, her wifely affection and her body to another man.
As he drove toward his mom's house, he pondered how much to tell his mom and grandad. He decided to tell it all. Tell it the way he had experienced and heard it. Let the chips fall where they may. It was Susan's deception and secrecy that had caused all this. He would not repeat that error with his family of origin. Only by confession and the total truth could they help him. He would hide nothing from them. He saw how different he was from Susan on this point. Susan was hiding her life from him.
He picked up his mom at his childhood home where she continued to live. The same house Jonathans had grown up in. He helped his mom up into the super cab as he had done many times. His strong arms hardly felt her weight. Their conversation was light. Jonathan had already told his mother he wanted both her and grandad to listen at the same time so there would be no doubt about what the other heard or said.
The 20 minute drive to Grandad's was easy. His old truck knew the way by heart. Arriving, they were welcomed in by this frail old man with the warm smile, eye to eye contact and his trade mark firm handshake.
Mom came once a week to fill his pill box, doing his food shopping and take grandad where ever he needed to go. Mom was his means of transportation since grandma died and then Jonathan's dad's death several years ago now. Mom was not Grandad's biologic child but they were closer as father and daughter than most real children. Jonathan felt that he was truly with his family again. His wife, his home may be gone but his roots were still deep and secure.
Mom knew accounting backwards an forwards, learned it from his dad. She and his dad had long term loyal friends in this town dating back decades.
Grandpa was a retired farmer with friends in this part of the world for 70 years. He was pressing in on 80 and still going strong. He was well respected and admired. He took a slew of heart medicines but that was about all.
