Copyright 2016 by PostScriptor
It was a bright and clear Monday morning when Chuck walked into the kitchen in the suburban ranch-style home that he and his wife owned.
He'd showered and dressed already so a quick breakfast was all that he needed to be out the door and off to work. It was going to be a beautiful, warm day.
He was surprised, though, to find his wife, Pamela — known to everyone as 'Pam', already in the kitchen cooking bacon and eggs for breakfast.
"Wow, honey! What's the special occasion?" While cooked breakfasts were a norm for Chuck and Pam on the on the weekends, it was a real rarity to go to all of that trouble during the working week.
His wife, a little startled by his sudden emergence, looked over at him with what he could swear was a look somewhere between guilt and fear. Her strained facial mask was only there for a second before Pam's face regained her normal cheerful, smiling face on the world.
"Oh sweetheart! I was wide-awake this morning, so while you were getting ready I thought I would fix us breakfast. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Please," he replied before he sat at the kitchen table. He pulled up his iPad onto its stand, logged in and began his usual morning routine of checking the news. She quietly handed him his cup, fixed, black with two sugars, just the way he liked it.
After a couple of minutes, Chuck noticed that Pam seemed to be throwing quick looks at him every twenty seconds or so before turning back to the task in front of her. He wondered to himself whether this was some recent sort of a nervous habit of hers that had somehow escaped his notice before.
At long last (well, in truth not so long, but it seemed that way) Pam slid a spatula under the scrambled eggs and moved them to plates where they were accompanied by a couple pieces of bacon, a couple links of sausage and a slice of toasted bread (whole wheat, of course, for health reasons.) Pam's version of a 'Grand Slam' breakfast.
Chuck certainly appreciated her effort, however unusual it seemed for a weekday morning.
They began to eat together, Chuck continuing to peruse his iPad while Pam sipped at her coffee, not really eating, just moving her food around on her plate while she continued to glance surreptitiously at her husband.
She didn't seem to be able to get comfortable in her chair either. She kept wiggling around like she couldn't get comfortable just sitting.
Finally, Chuck couldn't stand it anymore.
"OK Pam. What is going on? You are fidgeting in your chair like a three-year-old and you seem to be very nervous about something. What's going on? Is there something you need to tell me? You didn't dent the car again, did you?"
" Um. No honey, it isn't anything like that."
"Well just exactly what IS it then?"
Pam hesitated to get her thoughts in order before she sighed and began talking.
"Darling, you know that I read short stories online sometimes, right?"
Chuck nodded his head in the affirmative. They sometimes even talked about the stories if they had a plot or other story elements that Pam found interesting.
"Well, the main site I go to for my stories," she paused and her eyes dropped to the table, "has a lot of 'erotic' stories. You know, I've told you about them before — there are stories about lesbians and group sex, or people doing things for the first time..."
Chuck smiled as he nodded again. He had benefited from her reading some of those stories. The first time they tried out anal sex was an example of Pam getting an idea from a story and asking Chuck to try something new. And they both liked it enough that now it was a semi-regular addition to their repertoire.
They were pleasantly surprised at how hot they both got talking about some of the 'erotic' stories, although they agreed that a lot of the fantasies, intriguing as they might be to think about, were actually pretty risky. So they stuck to things they could do by themselves in their own bedroom.
"I don't know if I ever mentioned to you, but there is a section of stories called 'Loving Wives.' The stories in that section aren't always real sexy and they can vary quite a bit. Some of them are about 'cuckolds' — you know, men who are wimpy or who get off watching their wives have sex with other men. For example there's this one author, Matt Moreau who...well, never mind, it doesn't matter right now."
Chuck frowned when he heard her description of that genre of story. He said something under his breath that Pam couldn't understand, but she thought it was something like 'it would be a cold day in hell before...'
She continued, "Others are what they call 'burn the bitch' stories, where a man discovers that his wife is cheating on him and he figures out ways to get revenge on her. And fairly often he gets back at her lover, too!"
That thought seemed to cheer Chuck a bit.
"I could learn to appreciate those, I bet," Chuck interjected with a thoughtful look on his face.
"Anyway," Pam continued, "I was reading a 'Loving Wife' story late last night before I came to bed." She looked back at Chuck again who raised his eyebrows and tilted his hands outward in one of those 'OK, so just go on' gestures.
"It frightened me. It really scared me."
"How could a damn story frighten you so much?" he demanded.
