The Helpful Husband Ch 01

To preface this almost 100% true story, I'd like to begin by discussing the dynamics of my marriage prior the events in this story.

My wife and I married at a very young age, shortly after enlisting in the Army. She moved to Hawaii together, and spent 2 happy years there, and then on crappy year of her there alone, because I was deployed. While we had a very happy sex life, it was also very traditional. Oral was considered a special thing like a birthday, or anniversary. That being said, we were very happy with our sex, and never wanted anything, because to be honest, we didn't know there was much more.

That leads us to a few years ago. I had left my duty station in Hawaii with my beautiful wife, Sarah, with our destination being at a base in Florida. To help you visualize Sarah, Imagine your typical southern bell. She was beautiful, standing at 5'5" and 110 pounds, with thick and long brunette hair that accented her light hazel eyes perfectly. Her thin waste contrasted perfectly with her full D Cups that drew the attention of anyone that caught a glance at her, and those who missed her front side always had an opportunity to view what Sarah always considered the best part about herself: her plump, round, perfectly smooth butt. Sarah could have put on a potato sack, and a blind man would have been able to see that she had the definition of a perfect ass. To me, these things were amazing, but her true beauty was her personality. Sarah would drive hours at a time to save a dog from being put down at an animal shelter 4 counties over. The words "me" and "I" hardly ever passed through her perfectly shaped lips, and she always squeezed in a few extra hours each day somehow to make sure our home was as beautiful as it could be.

Sarah was perfect, which mean my life in turn, was perfect

I arrived at my new duty station a few days before Sarah, so I could get out housing situation set up for us. She stayed with my family about 4 hours north, and I was to call her once I was ready for her to come. In-processing to my unit was moving smoothly, as was obtaining a home for us to live in. Things did seem to be able to get any better, until I had seen on Facebook that one of my oldest friends from high school, Jacob Fowler, was living in an area about 35 miles away from me, on the coast. Excited to reconnect with a friendly face in a place where I knew no one, I sent Jacob a message letting him know that I had just relocated to a town nearby, and that my family was going to follow soon. Within a few hours, he had replied, saying he was excited to hang out to catch up on each other's lives. We made plans to grab drinks that evening, and by 8 we were sitting in a shitty bar laughing about old times. I told him about Sarah, and showed him a few pictures, who which he used the oh-so-funny like of "Wow man, how much are your parents paying her?" All jokes aside, he was happy for me and the state of my life. Jacob had joined the Coast Guard after high school, and have worked in Puerto Rico prior to being moved to Florida just a few months before my arrival. Seeing as the Coast Guard had a pretty lax schedule this left Jacob to do the one thing he loved for 3 to 4 hours a day; work out at any gym he could find. The tall lanky kid I knew from high school was gone, and before me sat a man who could have easily kicked everyone in that bars ass. We had a few more rounds, and then walked the market street, where Jacob tried (and failed) to pick up everywoman he came across. Sure, he was the epitome of male fitness and looks, but he was still a goofy meathead. Eventually we said our goodbyes, and agreed to meet up in a week or to, so that we could have a few drinks and he could meet Sarah.

A few days later, I managed to close very quickly on a foreclosed of that was way below our budget, including estimated repair costs. For the next two weeks, I worked on the house whenever I wasn't on duty. Most of the work that needed to be done was superficial, except for needing a new A/C unit. My work finished late on a Tuesday night. I scheduled for our furniture from Hawaii to be delivered on Thursday, and finally on Friday night I called Sarah to tell her that her home was ready for her.

There wasn't much time for me to help her organize the house the way she wanted, as my unit had a very high training tempo. I promised her that on the following Saturday I would dedicate a day to knocking out the relatively short list she had generated for me. Half way through the list, I got a notification on my phone. My buddy, Jacob has added Sarah on Facebook, and seen she had finally come down to me, and he demanded to know why I wasn't having him over for steaks and drink tonight.

I immediately explained to Sarah that I had promised him this dinner a few weeks ago, and I didn't see a way out of his self-invite. She sighed at the circumstances, and went to the commissary to go pick up some food and drinks for the evening while I worked on completing the list. A few hours later, I was starting up the grill while Sarah hid the remaining clutter from our days' work out of sight. As I was laying our steaks on the grill, a large black Chevy Silverado on a disturbingly high lift-kit pulled into out drivel very loudly. At first I thought "Who is this asshole?", until I remembered the Jacob drove a large black truck. I don't think I've ever seen Sarah roll her eyes that hard in my life, which was followed by a somehow-sarcastic thumb up as she said with her goofy smile "Cool Friends, Kent. Did you tell him sorry about his penis?", the implication here being that anyone who drives a truck like that must be compensating for something. At this point, I don't need to say it, but I kind of do: I did not have high hopes for the evening.

Jacob found his way to the backyard gate, which he struggled to unlock since he was carrying a 24-pack of Natty Ice in one arm, and a comically large amount of red solo cups in the other arm. At this point, Sarah's annoyance with my old was justified, and very visible. She sighed as loudly as possible as she rushed to unlock the gate for him, and closed it rather loudly behind him. Once he put is "19-year old college kid" starter back on the middle of the nice table Sarah had set for us to eat at, he rushed my wife who was extending a hand him, and clapped me on the back.

"Hey buddy, just cause you're cooking outside doesn't mean this is the kitchen now. What's she doing out here?" Jacob joked, making sure it was loud enough for her to hear. I had had enough, and he wasn't even here for 5 minutes. Where was my goofy buddy from a few weeks ago? I slammed down my spatula and went off.

"Ok, first, don't talk to Sarah that way. Ever. Secondly, is that for fucking BEER PONG?" I asked, gesturing towards the Natty that had somehow been damaged in his short 10 foot walk from his truck to the table, and was now leaking alcoholic piss onto the table.

I stood there waiting for a response. Now, I'm 5'11, and 185 pounds. So when this giant known as "Jacob" that had at least 4 inches and 60 pounds on me started laughing at my face, my first thought was "Shit. This dude is gonna kick my ass." I made sure to not move backwards an inch. If I was going to get my ass kicked in front of my wife for yelling at the Aryan version of Karl Drogo, I want going to look like a coward during the process. Then I heard Sarah trying to stifle her own laughter. What the fuck? Did I look that pathetic that my own wife was laughing at my attempts to set Jacob straight?

And then It hit me. This wasn't some malicious laughter, poking fun at my reaction. This was the laughter you hear after you tie a kid's shoe laces together and watch him trip when he tries to stand up. I wasn't sure what joke was being played on me, but I know that to at least these two assholes, it was a very good one.

We ate dinner while Sarah explained that when Jacob had added her on Facebook a few days' prior, he also messaged her with a brief introduction of who he was, how he knows me, and then explain a dog-shit idea of a prank to her. Jacob told her of how highly I had spoken of her. He couldn't pass up an opportunity to make me look like an asshole in front of her, which is apparently fine if Sarah is in on the joke. Oh wait, it's not. But I digress.

Not only did Sarah know about his plans to poke holes in some cans to ruin the dinner table, ignoring her, and about the sexist joke he was going to make, but she also knew he was going to wait until the last minute to invite himself. Jacob obviously thought this was the prank of the year, and Sarah was just happy to see someone finally take a stab at what some would consider an "overly-serious" demeanor. At this point, their only saving grace was that I felt a wave of relief that my wife and old friend were not actually starting off on the wrong foot. After dinner, while I took the dishes inside, Jacob went to his truck, that was not obnoxious for the sake of the joke, but just because Jacob was an obnoxious person, and produced a bottle of Maker's 76, and a bottle of Sarah's favorite wine.

Sarah showed him to the living room, and then joined me in the kitchen to help me finish the dished before we sat to spend time with Jacob. I gave her a disapproving look as she took a spot at the sink next to me. She assumed a defensive stance while grabbing for a plate to rinse.

"What? It was his idea! Besides, you could use a little humor in your life Kent. He's your childhood friend, let him enjoy a good goof."

"That's not what I'm on about," I said as I yanked the plated from her hand, "You have been on your feet all day. Go sit down, pour a glass of wine, and get to know Jacob. I'll finish these up."

The smile I received from her was more than enough of a reward for doing the rest of the dishes. It warmed me from the inside, and reminded me, as it always does, how much I lucked out with her. Before she left for the living room, she put a hand on my shoulder, leaned in close to my ear "If you get the founding father of the penis-envy club outta hear early enough, I'll put on that belly dancers outfit you got for me in Afghanistan."

I could hear the seductive smile in her voice as she whispered her half-joke, half-proposition to me. I sighed in exasperation, I turned to her, and began to speak, but she put a finger over my lip in an understanding way, and pulled my head towards her so she could kiss my forehead. I had returned from Afghanistan one month prior to my reassignment to Florida, and in that time, I had managed to stay in the bed with my wife for 7 full nights, and of those 7 nights, we made love twice. I couldn't explain what was happening, and I was too full of shame to go to the medics for a referral to a physician, but Sarah was lonely, and I knew I would have to do something soon. She slapped my butt as she walked past me to leave the kitchen, and catcalled me. I really was the luckiest man in the world.

After I finished the dishes, I joined Sarah and Jacob in the living room, where they were intently watching Archer and laughing in unison, which made more worry more for Sarah's mental health than it did make me consider that the show might be funny. The Maker's and wine bottle has already been opened, and a small amount was missing from each one. I had wanted them to talk and become acquainted, but I conceded to the notion that sometimes people just want to sit around others, and do nothing.

Sarah sat in the floor centered on the couch that she was leaning her back against, while Jacob somehow managed to occupy the entire left half of the 4-person couch, and he didn't even look like he was trying to do it on purpose. Jacob had amassed this amazing ability to consume an abundant amount of any recourse with out there being any plausible expiation. The couch, the now half-empty Maker's 46, two steaks in half the time it took Sarah and I to eat half a portion each, however much gas his obnoxious truck took. It was all too much, but that was Jacob for you.

As the night went on, the drinks flowed a little more freely, and the conversation went with it. By the time the bottles were emptied between the three of us, it was already 1 AM, and it became apparent that Jacob wasn't going to be driving home that night (he had claimed ¾'s of the Maker's for himself, which came as a surprise to no one). At one point the conversation shifted towards hoarder's and their disgusting houses, which was when Keven began to question what the house of a sex toy hoarder would look like. Normally, this would have made Sarah a little uncomfortable, but instead, she turned from her seated position between our legs, told him to stop being gross, and gave him a smack on the leg, which we all laughed at.

"It wouldn't look any different than ours." She commented, sounding a little unsure of herself. When we stared at her waiting for more of an explanation, she hesitantly continued. "Sex toys aren't the size of huge newspaper stacks and trash bags. You could easily put one hundred in chest that you keep in your closet."

I smirked at this, knowing that in the back of our very own closet, Sarah kept a small shoebox with two adult toys. She never liked to acknowledge that she had them, and I had never seen her use them, but I knew that she had needs just like every other human being. For a second I thought about hinting at her secret, but I thought it best to not embarrass her further. Unluckily for her, the mad blushing in her face was doing a fine job of announcing to the whole room that she had a dirty secret, and Jacob grinned at this knowingly.

"I disagree," he countered, "not all dildoes are the size of a pinky. If someone were to hoard them in massive numbers, some would be out in the open. Hoarders aren't as good at keeping their secrets hidden, unlike some people we know." He laughed, as he nudged her shoulder with his knee. While she knew he was joking, she was slightly annoyed by this jab, and the wine didn't exactly aid in her defending herself.

"I'll have you know that there is a big difference between keeping secrets, and remaining modest! Not all of us feel the need to tell every other driver on the street how small their dick is, by driving the largest truck they could afford!" She exclaimed, half laughing, as she turned to slap him again.

As I watched this scene unfold, the amount of flirting going on was becoming plainly obvious. Not only to me, but to Sarah and Jacob as well. After their laugh, their eyes locked for just a second longer than one would expect out of two people who had just met just a few hours earlier. Sarah felt her face start burning, and she quickly turned back to the now ignored television, and scooted a little closer to me. Jacob though, had other ideas. He was obviously having a good time with this conversation, and hearing no rejection from me, he was going to push it as far as he could go. It was obvious his only goal was to frustrate her and give her a hard time, but there was no denying that the subject and hand was having some additional effects on her, and we weren't about to ruin that.

It was at this point that I first noticed something...unfamiliar. I felt a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time. As I looked down over Sarah's shoulder, I could see her chest rising and falling quickly, as if she were just a little out of breath. Her cleavage caught my eye for a few moments. Her red cheeks and lips were glowing in a way I hadn't seen since I had been back. I knew this look. I had seen it plenty of times before, and I was happy to be seeing it again. Sarah was slightly aroused, and trying to hide it the best she could, and, to my surprise, this made me feel a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. I felt a small twitch in my pants, and it nearly made me jump. I was getting turned on, and I had no idea why. I was pulled from this revelation, when Jacob's arrogant, attention demanding voice spoke up again.

"So say someone we all knew had a 'chest' like you described. What do you think we would find inside?"

His question was obviously directed at Sarah, but he turned to me when she remained so motionless and silent that you could almost hear the stubbornness in it. I'm not sure what compelled me to answer. My beautiful wife's personal habits were none of my business, and certainly none of his. But despite that, I wanted to see what Sarah's reaction would be to Jacob finding out. I was positive it would result in a fight between us once Jacob went home tomorrow, but for now she was a captive to our whim's, and while her body language protested, the small tell-tell signs she let slip were practically encouraging us to continue this cruel but slightly erotic game. So, I answered without hesitation.

"Probably a yellow vibrator, and a glass dildo. That would be my guess." I announced, as I practically flinched, fearing what her immediate reaction would be. To my relief, she only slightly turned her head, and cut eyes at me. Those glaring eyes couldn't hide the discreet smile her lips wore. Jacob was leaning far forward at this point, as eager to see her reaction as I was.

"I have to go to the restroom. Please excuse me." She said, all to politely. I expected her to storm out at this point, and I'm sure that was her intention. As she rose though, her body betrayed her again. Instead of standing straight up, she first extended he legs, so her torso was parallel with the ground. She slowly raised it, and this left us with an amazing 5 second view of her ass. Jacob tried to hide the fact that he was staring, but he would have had better luck trying to hide his truck in a parking lot full of Mini Coopers. As she made her way towards the door, her hips swayed a little bit, back and forth, keeping us caught in the booty-trance that had trapped up. Once she got to the door, she paused for a second, giving thought to what she had just done. She shook her head to cast it aside, and disappeared down the hall. The moment we heard the bathroom door close, Jacob turned to me with the dumbest grin on his face.

"Dude, what the hell. You didn't tell me she was this smoking, and you DIDN'T tell me she was a closet freak! Please tell me you are hitting that every night of the week."

If he had asked this just 8 hours ago, I would have been appalled. My reaction would have been like when I got into his ass over the beer and sexist comments earlier that day. But now? I was relaxed now. I had enjoyed an evening of drinks with friends for the first time in forever. Not only that, but I was now semi-erect from seeing my wife behave in a way I had never seen before. So, instead, I took the last long drink of whisky from my tumbler, and shrugged as I gave my reply.

"I never really thought about how other people looked at her. I mean, she is insanely hot to me, but that doesn't me she is to other people. It would have seemed egotistical to brag about something like that. And, she is NOT a closet freak. You'd be surprised how conservative she is in the bedroom."

He rolled his eyes at this answer, and pushed further.

"Bullshit. No girl who didn't like sex would have a box of toys in her closet. You don't have to lie to me man, you can tell me what kinda crazy shit you get into."

His statement was met with silence, as I had just been reminded of my inability to be intimate with my wife, and my face changed to that boring gloomy look drunk people make when they get sad. It was clear to him he had struck a nerve.

"My bad man. I didn't mean to assume...I just....some chicks just don't like giving it up a lot, I get that."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to force out this poorly worded, although, sincere apology. At this point, the alcohol had taken its full effect on me (I'm a lightweight), and I didn't think twice about correcting his assumption. This was mostly to save him from his own embracement.