"Shireen's Story" was narrated by her husband, Akbar, in the first of this series. The second instalment had Shireen filling in significant gaps that Akbar had left out. After Akbar had influenced Shireen to become much more liberal in her views to sex, their views had come into conflict following a Super Bowl party thrown by close friends. A number of readers suggested a sequel to the stories. "Winning Me Back: Shireen's Narrative" picked up from the end of the Super Bowl party and gave the reader her point of view of events that next transpired, including the way the distances between them were removed. That narrative, however, left some parts unclear and some open to suggestion. Akbar now gives us the fourth, and final, part of the saga, providing closure on those unanswered questions. Enjoy!
I – Apres Party
"Starting this moment, I will sleep with whoever I want and whenever I want to, and that includes you, and you will not say or do anything about it!"
This was an ultimatum that I did not ever want to hear, but had no grounds to debate either. After all, I had led Shireen to that conclusion and would now have to handle the consequences, whatever they may be. Unable to believe I had allowed nearly a dozen strangers to fuck my hot and sexy wife, guilty about not confessing that her last pairing was not consensual but rape, uncertain about her state of mind, and definitely stung by her assertion that I had brought her down to the level of a cheap whore because of my deviant desires, I decided to quietly bear the barbs and to get her home from the party that Hernan and Kerri had thrown. The events of the past night had worked her up into a state of disgust for herself and almost certainly for me. It was only fair that I found ways to win her love back, however tough the road ahead was going to be.
I should have been happy to have been blessed with a loving wife like Shireen. There was no reason at all to doubt her sincerity in bed or the fact that she loved me deeply. I really had no cause to be looking for jollies other than with my ravishingly hot missus. Yet I had fallen into the old male malaise of seeking variety. Not that I did not love Shireen or look forward to fucking her; it was just a question of "what if" and "why not." She had reluctantly agreed to a tryst with Hernan; that had by now turned into an affair of sorts. It was not a question of a love triangle between the three of us, far from it. Rather he had helped expand her horizons to the point where making love to multiple partners in a single night had been acceptable to her. Oh I had my share of other partners the same night too. But putting my scintillating wife out for the crowd at large to fuck and fondle had meant that I certainly was the loser in the bargain.
Was I jealous that she had now been with so many lovers? Not really, the experiences she gained with Hernan had translated into tremendous lovemaking when we were together. Had I not been turned on by her sexual growth? Sure I was, her inhibitions were long gone and she was open to suggestion. Was she losing her looks by being so promiscuous? Of course not, the sex on the side was certainly giving her a confidence and beauty boost and her frequent choice of fashionable yet revealing clothing reflected this fact. So why was I bothered now that she was comfortable with her sexuality; after all had she not hit a peak in sexual awareness?
It was quite simple to understand the conflict in me. So long as I had Shireen to myself, she was always the trophy to display and occasionally allow a little polish on to, such as that provided by Hernan when he was first invited to fuck her. Now that she was in the public domain, so to say, I could not bear the thought of anyone else's hands on or cock in her.
Shireen jumped out of the car as soon as we entered the driveway. Though it was broad daylight and quite cold, she ripped off one garment after another and entered the garage almost naked. She had put the Eagles cheerleader costume on again upon the conclusion of the party, and it seemed she could not wait to get it off her body. I was certain she was going to burn those garments at the first opportunity. As I brought the car inside, I was stunned by the order I got from her as she stood nearly naked in the doorway, the cold weather helping her tits look even perkier and pointed than usual.
"Akbar, go straight to the office, I want to be alone," her intent was clear, "and please do not bother calling me today!"
Arguing would serve no purpose. I had to hold off any apologies for the time being, even if I was worried that she may not be there when I returned in the evening. The uncertainty gnawed at my mind as I pulled out of the driveway and headed to the office.
I noticed someone waving at me from one of the neighbouring houses and acknowledged the greeting. It was Derrick, a high school going kid who lived a few houses down with his mom. Derrick had helped me with odd jobs on occasion, but had been most useful to Shireen when some furniture had to be moved about and I was on a trip.
"Hey Derrick, how are you?" I pulled over and figured I could enlist his help.
"Not too bad," he replied, "you just getting home now?"
"Yeah, the party was quite a distance from here and we stayed overnight," I kept the lurid details to myself.
"Anything you need done around the house?" he asked, almost hopefully.
"Actually, Shireen is not feeling all that well," I beat about the bush, "perhaps you can do me a favour, stop by during the day and see if she needs anything."
"You can count on it, I'll pop in right after school this afternoon," Derrick assured me and I felt better that someone would be keeping an eye on my rather pissed off wife. He appeared genuinely happy with the task I had given him and was certain Shireen would be looked in on.
Derrick was completing high school later in the year and was a star athlete on one of the teams. He was a good looking fellow and must have been popular at school with the cheerleaders. But he could appreciate quality and I had noticed him staring at Shireen a little longer than necessary, and perhaps with some lust, on the few occasions we had all been together. I could not blame him, Shireen was certainly worth looking at and he was a hot blooded teen.
Derrick's mom Jenna was a single parent, who had never mentioned his dad to us. Since she was no more than in her mid-thirties, it is likely that she got knocked up in school but had the baby anyway. That said, she looked years younger, still dressed provocatively and could turn a few heads. Shireen and I had joked about my getting a hard on for her a few times when we had seen her mowing the lawn in non-existent hot pants and cleavage baring blouses. Shireen had become friends with Jenna and I doubted there was room for three in that particular relationship. Still I felt assured that Jenna and her son could be asked to help if Shireen had any issue or mishap on that particular day. That was great comfort under the circumstances.
The office folk quickly surmised that things were not on the level with me. Firstly, I had never appeared unshaven before. Secondly, my eyes were visibly bloodshot from both not sleeping and stewing over my predicament. Thirdly, I was not really dressed for work on a Monday. Most tellingly, I was brusquely short with my greetings and conversations with everyone, something I was not known for. Thankfully most of the folks decided that I probably had partied late and was not going to be good company that day.
I prayed that there was no work emergency that would require my senses to be finely tuned. For some time that held true as post-mortems on the football game were the conversation of choice, nearly always trumping business. Since I did not know much of the game, I was left out of such talk, though this created pregnant pauses for me to think back on events of the night before.
Had I not truly been an absolute asshole? Did I really have to take Shireen down the path she had been on? Was it not my fault that she was in such a foul mood? Should I not have treated her differently, enjoying the fact that I had a babe like her for a wife? The answers to all the above queries were resoundingly "YES!"
I could not resist calling home. The phone was likely off the cradle as I continuously got a busy signal. I wondered if she was at home and would still be there when I returned. Or maybe she was spilling her feelings out to the one person I knew she could, Hernan! That could explain my inability to get through. Sure enough I tried Hernan's line and the busy signal there only confirmed what I was thinking.
My mind told me it was time to go and confront Hernan. Yes I had started Shireen off on the present track, but it was he who had created the circumstances for our current discord. Though I had not thrown the party and was as much at sea, as Shireen, about the way things had progressed the night prior, I wondered why my wife blamed me for what had happened rather than her other lover till then. I told my administrative assistant that I was heading out on an errand and drove to Hernan's house. It was just around lunchtime and I wondered if he would be there, and whether Shireen would be with him.
In no time at all I had driven to his fairly sizable home. There was no question of my entering through the main door in my mind, even though there was no reason for me not to do so. I wanted to see if things were indeed at the level that I had imagined. The back fence was not locked and I made it into the house through the patio entrance. I could hear a TV but found no one watching the program on the set in the family room. The stairs indicated my next destination as I heard voices coming from the master bedroom.
It did not take more than a few seconds for the voices to register, Hernan was in there and Shireen was with him. So she had called him and taken refuge at his place. My anger began to rise. I slowly opened the door and peeped inside. They were seated on his bed, fully clothed, and Shireen was crying up a storm while narrating her lists of complaints against me. Hernan reached out and brought her head to his shoulder, eliciting more sobs from her.
