Uncle Fester's Repudiation

It was a horrible day for a grave side service. The canopy that had been set up was really adequate only for immediate family. Detective Brady huddled with his wife under their umbrella in a futile effort to avoid the worst of the relentless rain. The rain was almost forgotten as they listened to the chaplain's struggle to eulogize a rookie cop who had committed suicide after brutally murdering his wife with his department issue pistol, orphaning their newborn baby.

Orphaning her newborn baby, Mike silently corrected the chaplain.

Detective Brady had been given the unenviable task of investigating the deaths. There had been little doubt about what had happened. Officer Moore's wife had been standing over the bassinet when she was shot in the back. The four, tightly grouped, nine-millimeter, hollow point bullets that had entered her back just over her heart had over penetrated of course, creating a pattern in the wall in front of her that had enabled Mike to definitively determine that Officer Moore had been standing in the kitchen when he shot his wife from a distance of seven yards. The open card that congratulated Officer Moore's wife on the birth of her newborn had revealed the motive. The flowers and the bottle of wine that had been set out on the table in anticipation of a romantic, candlelit dinner that had so obviously been a desperate attempt to inspire a reconciliation had been sent by the Deputy Police Chief.

Of course the chaplain knew the truth. The rumors had been circulating through the department almost from the beginning of the tawdry affair. The humiliating truth had been confirmed to everyone when the baby was born. The eulogy was plea for God's grace and an admonishment to others to let he who was without sin cast the first stone. When the chaplain said this, all eyes sought the Deputy Police Chief who had shamelessly exploited his rank to secure a coveted seat under the canopy. The Deputy Police Chief did not seem to be at all repentant even after a promising young cop and his beautiful, young wife had died so that he could have another notch on his bedpost. Mike was suddenly overwhelmed with rage. It's a damn shame that Officer Moore hadn't killed that black bastard rather than murder his wife then commit suicide. I know that I wanted to kill him. There were times when I was ashamed of myself for not killing him.

Once the last hymn had been sung, the attendees quickly dispersed. The relentless rain provided an excuse to not linger, thus avoiding having to talk about the tragedy. Mike and Mary remained silent for a while as he drove. The only sound in the car was the noise of the windshield wipers that struggled against the rain. The silence was finally broken a few miles away from the cemetery. "I am so grateful that you didn't become so violent back when I was the Deputy Chief's secretary."

The expression of gratitude evoked shameful memories that Mike had never been able to suppress. Those memories were always lurking below the level of conscious thought, poised to assert themselves at the worst, possible time. Those memories were most likely to assert themselves when he was making love to his repentant wife. Those memories always provoked a sense of desperation that actually intensified his desire for her.

Mary's expression of gratitude reminded Mike that he had become somewhat abusive as his suspicions escalated. Her condemnation of his cowardice had provoked him to confront the Deputy Chief. The vicious beating that had been administered to him in retaliation had confirmed those suspicions. That beating had been all the more humiliating because it had established the Deputy Chief's dominance over him. That beating had compelled Mike to quietly acquiesce to Mary's ongoing affair.

"What would you have done if I hadn't had a miscarriage?" Mary paused before going on, "would you have shot me if I had humiliated you by giving birth to a black, bastard baby?"

"The baby might not have been black. We were screwing like rabbits during the months that you were continuing your affair. We had stopped using condoms and I wasn't being very careful."

Mary giggled before responding, "I remember. We were like newlyweds again, but the baby wasn't yours."

"Why are you so certain that the baby wasn't mine? Is it because his penis is so much bigger than mine?"

"That's one reason," Mary whispered, "but it wasn't the only reason.". After a moment of thought she asked, "why didn't you make our separation legal then divorce me rather than move back in when you knew that I was continuing to see him?"

"I would be a liar if I claimed that I didn't consider it. I even talked to a lawyer. However; the more I thought about it during the weeks after I moved out, the more I realized that I was making a big mistake. By moving out, I was allowing the Deputy Police chief to move in, literally. He would have been living full time in our house with our children. He would have been sleeping with you every night in our marital bed rather than just on my weekends to have the children or when you were willing to be indiscrete. He would have been screwing your brains out every night while I slept alone in some dingy little apartment. The best that I could have hoped for would have been an occasional mercy fuck when it was my weekend to visit the kids. I can't imagine how we could have reconciled after that. If I had divorced you, I would have lost not only you but our kids."

Mary blushed with shame as she remembered those strangely illicit trysts with her then estranged husband then conceded, "I can't deny that I wouldn't have been wanton enough to allow the Deputy Chief to live with me if you hadn't moved back in. I have never understood why you didn't demand that I end my affair with the Deputy Chief as a condition."

"Would you have agreed to stop sleeping with him if I had demanded it?" Mike continued, "even if you had promised to end your affair, could I have trusted you to not just be more discrete about screwing around on me, either with him or someone else?"

"No. I wouldn't have agreed to end my affair. It was like an addiction. I was so obsessed with sex that even if I had stopped sleeping with him, I would have been sleeping with someone else." Mary paused before reluctantly continuing. "There actually were a few other men that I had sex with too."

Mike was amazed as he asked, "why?"

"Like I said, it was like an addiction. I was a sex junky that needed a stronger fix. One of the guys was a friend of the Deputy Chief's that he had arranged a threesome with. We kept seeing each other on the sly once in a while after that. It was like I was cheating on my paramour rather than my husband. There were a few other guys that were just anonymous, one night stands. I guess I was experimenting to figure out what made cheating on you so exciting. Was it just the fact that I was having illicit sex that made it better or was it race or size."

"Which was it, size, race or just the allure of forbidden fruit?"

"All of the above," Mary confessed.

Mike exclaimed, "I can't believe that my once straight laced wife could have become that promiscuous. We're lucky that you didn't catch anything."

"We definitely were lucky," Mary agreed. "I am amazed at how reckless I was. I never used condoms with the other men. I guess you must now think that I'm a total slut?"

"No. Your not a slut. Your my wife and the mother of our children. You were just exploring your sexuality later in life rather than before marriage as most women do.. I knew that you were being reckless too. I noticed the evidence, at least on a subconscious level, even before you confessed. Rather than provoke an argument by confronting you for your infidelity and recklessness, I just tried to be the one who would impregnate you. I guess I failed."

The conversation was mercifully ended by their arrival home. Their eldest daughter met them at the door with a squalling infant in her arms. Their toddler managed to walk over to greet them. Mary found herself reminiscing about how his somewhat unintended conception a few months after her affair had ended had been a symbolic reconsecration of their marriage. "He just started crying about half an hour ago. I changed him, but I think he is hungry again."

As Mary took the infant in her arms, it began to nuzzle her breasts through her clothes. Resigning herself to the need to nurse, she carried the two week old infant over to the couch and sat down. The black dress that she had selected for the funeral service buttoned down the front. She had given up on nursing bras years earlier, preferring to wear more normal bras with low cut cups. She slipped the straps of her slip and bra off of her shoulder then lifted a breast from it's lacy cup to present a swollen nipple to the baby. As she revealed her breasts, Mike once again found himself thinking about how lucky he was. Very few women had breasts as big as Mary's even when they were pregnant or nursing.

As the infant eagerly latched on, Mike was acutely aware of the contrast between Mary's alabaster breast and the baby's mahogany complexion. Since Mary was still nursing, bringing the orphaned baby home so she could be his wet nurse had seemed to be the logical thing to do. The children's services caseworker had eagerly agreed. They hadn't really discussed it yet, but he suspected that they'd eventually be adopting the child. Mike wasn't certain how he felt about that. He had already noticed people's reactions whenever Mary nursed the infant in public. They had looked at the baby and his wife carefully, then looked at him before obviously reaching the seemingly valid conclusion. One young, Africa-American man had even contrived an excuse to flirt with her as she nursed the black baby. Mike suddenly realized that this was what life would have become if Mary had not had a miscarriage. He was surprised yet relieved by the realization that he would have been able to accept it.

Their toddler climbed up on the couch to assert his place at his mother's breasts. Mary made no effort to resist as their child pulled the straps of her slip and bra off of her other shoulder then lifted her other breast out of it's lacy bra cup as he knelt down to latch on. She had plenty of milk for both of the babies.

Their daughter had cooked dinner for the family. When the infant and the toddler were finished nursing, Mary settled the infant in the bassinet, settled her breasts back in her bra cups and slip, then buttoned up her dress. The family was quiet during the meal, as if everyone was afraid to talk. Their older children understood how awkward the situation was. The Deputy Chief had spent more than a few nights sleeping with their mother in the marital bed bed during the weeks when their father had been living apart from them.

When the meal was finished, Mike and Mary retreated to the privacy of their bedroom. He said nothing as he watched his wife slip out of her dress then carefully hang it up to dry. Her black slip went into the laundry hamper, leaving her in just her lacy, black bra and pantyhose. Mike's penis stirred as the sight of Mary's pubic hair through her pantyhose reminded him of how she had favored a garter belt and stockings without a panty during the months she had been having her affair. She had resumed wearing pantyhose almost exclusively after ending that illicit relationship. This seemingly trivial detail reminded him of how quickly their marriage had reverted to a more mundane routine. There were times when he actually regretted how he had become so complacent again. His swelling penis was evidence that this comfortable complacency had been disturbed by the funeral. It had reminded him of how the knowledge that his wife was continuing her affair had provoked such a desperate desire for her.

Mary was amazed and amused to see her husband's penis swelling to attention. Had attending the funeral evoked memories that had aroused him? She found herself appraising him as she sometimes did, comparing him to her former lover. He might be unimpressive, but he was adequate she reminded herself. The sensation of dampness in the crotch of pantyhose revealed that attending the funeral had evoked memories of her own that had ignited her desire as well.

Mike watched as Mary stripped off her pantyhose in a manner that seemed to be seductive. When she walked closer to grasp Mike's penis which was protruding from his pajamas, he knew that she was being intentionally provocative. They were soon laying on the bed together with his head between her thighs. His lips and tongue were familiar with her sex. He had no trouble finding her clitoris so he could suck on it. He was surprised at how rapidly she climaxed and realized that it was the memories that had been evoked by the funeral rather than desire for her husband that had inspired her lust.

Mike eagerly positioned himself between Mary's thighs. She did not chastise him for his failure to put a condom on. There was no need because he had gotten a vasectomy while she was pregnant with their youngest. Just as the conception and birth of that baby had reconsecrated their marriage, his vasectomy had been a ritual that had affirmed his commitment.

As Mike began thrusting into Mary, she admonished him, "don't worry about me. Just relax and enjoy yourself."

The acknowledgement that Mike would be unable to give Mary an orgasm was a humiliating reminder of her affair. He had been unable to bring her to climax with his penis during the months that she had been screwing her boss. However; his preordained failure liberated him from the obligation to be a generous husband. He made no effort to restrain himself to prolong her pleasure or his own. He quickly ejaculated far more forcefully than usually, spilling his sterile semen into her vagina.

Curious to see how she would react, Mike rolled off Mary towards her side of the bed rather than his own, then reached for her nightstand drawer. He fumbled for the dildo that she foolishly presumed that he didn't realize that she still had. He had given the enormous, ebony marital maid other as a gag gift to congratulate her on getting on job as the Deputy Police Chief's secretary. She had been reluctant to experiment with it, then ashamed of how eagerly she would climax in response to the sensation of having it inserted so incredibly deep into her vagina. Mike had belatedly realized that he had been the one who had planted the seed of her infidelity.

Mary was embarrassed when she realized that Mike was holding her favorite dildo. She occasionally yielded to the temptation to use it when Mike worked nights. It was a guilty pleasure that she had hoped that he was unaware of. She protested but didn't resist as Mike eased inch after glorious inch of the ebony toy into her vagina. The familiar sensation of the tip pressing against her cervix triggered an orgasm. Mike used the toy relentlessly, bringing her to climax again, again and again.

When he was convinced that Mary's lust was satiated, Mike removed the dildo from her vagina. As the cuddled together he stated rather than asked, "the funeral revived memories of your own affair with the Deputy Chief."

"I'm sorry," Mary pleaded.

"It's okay," Mike assured her. "I really can't blame you. They say that once you go black, you never go back. I'd be a fool if I condemned you for craving what you once had. Just promise me that if you do give into temptation again, it will not be with the Deputy Chief and that you'll be more discrete but not deceitful about it."

Mary was shocked. "I can't believe that you are offering me your permission to cheat on you."

"It wouldn't be cheating because you have my blessing. In fact, I'd want to watch."

Realizing that her husband's offer was genuine, Mary hugged him close then giggled. "We'll see. I'm not comfortable with the idea of you watching, but you might talk me into it."