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  • Awakenings Ch. 01

Awakenings Ch. 01

12

I write stories that celebrate the cuckold hot wife life style. I also try to write romantic stories. Despite their alternative lifestyle my hot wives and their cuckold husbands always have a deep and abiding love for each other.

Every one of us is a unique individual. We enjoy different kinds of music, art, food and recreational activities. We also enjoy a variety of sexual desires and fantasies. These differences are neither good nor bad, they're just different. If you can accept that you might enjoy this story. If sexual desires that vary from your own offend you or make you uncomfortable I strongly suggest that you find something else to read.

People sometimes get confused and make decisions that they later regret. That of course is part of the ongoing drama of life. It also provides the conflict that makes a story interesting.


Jeanne, my wife of twenty-seven years and I had just finished doing the supper dishes. We didn't need to wash them by hand, we had a dishwasher. We chose to do it because it was a habit, a pleasant habit. For years Jeanne and I along with our daughters, Jodie and Tricia had done them every night together.

Jodie and Tricia were now gone. They'd graduated from college, Jodie a year ago and Tricia two years ago. Both of them had good jobs and nice apartments. They were on their own and Jeanne and I were now on our own.

For Jeanne and me, washing the dishes together was one way to relive the fond memories of the past.

Don't misunderstand what I'm telling you. We weren't wallowing in despair because our daughters were grown and gone. We were both only forty-nine years old and leading full vibrant lives. I ran a small but very successful accounting office and Jeanne was a legal secretary for one of our city's most prominent law firms. I managed to play eighteen holes of golf three times a week and Jeanne belonged to a fitness club and worked out almost every day.

Still we were growing older. I had a middle aged paunch and my hair was thinning. While Jeanne was still a very sexy and beautiful woman, she was starting to find an occasional gray hair and lines and wrinkles were beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth.

After we finished drying and putting the dishes away we wiped off the counter tops and cleaned the sink. Once that was done Jeanne turned to me. Taking a deep breath, she said; "Micheal, I'd like to talk to you in the living room."

The serious tone of my wife's voice concerned me. Suddenly worried that something was gravely wrong, I said; "Yes, of course."

We walked quickly into the living room. Expecting that Jeanne would sit next to me, I sat on the couch. She surprised me and sat in the arm chair across from the couch. This heightened my anxiety.

For what seemed like an eternity, but was most likely only a few seconds, Jeanne stared at me. Feeling even more apprehensive, I waited. Finally she began. "Michael, I suspect that what I'm about to say is going to shock you and probably upset you. I'm asking, no begging you to please hear me out before you respond."

Now overwhelmed with alarm and barely managing to maintain my composure, I answered; "All right, I'll try."

"Thank you." Jeanne smiled and then she took a deep breath."Michael, I'm going to have an affair."

I looked at my wife with a shocked expression and said; "What did you just say?"

Obviously trying to maintain her calm, Jeanne repeated her statement. "I'm planning to have an affair."

"I don't understand? Are you telling me that you're in love with another man?"

Vehemently shaking her head, Jeanne answered; "No absolutely not! It's just going to be sex."

"Just going to be sex? You're telling me that you're planning to start fucking some other guy just for the fun of it?" I was starting to get angry.

Jeanne said, "Michael try to control your temper. Please listen to me."

"Control my temper! Shit Jeanne, you're telling me that you're going to cheat on me."

"No I'm not."

"You just told me that you're going to start fucking another man. That's cheating."

"No it's not. It's only cheating if I do it behind your back."

I stared at my wife for a moment and then slowly shaking my head, I said; "Jeanne, what's gotten in to you? This is crazy. You're going to tear my heart out if you do this."

"Michael, you're taking this all wrong. I still love you. You're the only man I'll ever love. This is just something that I need to do for myself. When we got married I was a virgin. You weren't. You've experienced other women. I've never experienced another man. I've decided that's an experience I'd like to have. If it's going to happen I have to do it now while I'm still young enough to attract another man."

"Jeanne, what are you talking about? You lost your interest in sex at least tens years ago."

"What do you mean?"

"It's been ten years since you've shown any desire to have sex, at least with me."

"Don't be silly, of course I've been interested in sex."

"Really? When was the last time you initiated sex? When was the last time you gave me a blow job? When was the last time you let me eat your pussy? When was the last time we made love in any way other than the missionary position? When was the last time you even let me see you naked?"

My questions struck home. Clearly shaken, Jeanne stared at me. The silence was deafening. Finally she quietly answered; "I'm sorry Micheal. I know I haven't been the best wife in this area for a while. I guess that sex for us just grew stale."

"Stale? Who's fault is that Jeanne? How many times have I suggested things we could try that might spice up our lovemaking. I'll tell you how many. Lots of times, I've done it lots of times and every time I did it you shot me down."

"Michael, don't you understand? That's what I'm doing now. I'm doing this for us. This is going to rekindle my interest in sex. When this affair is over, I'm going to be your loving wife again and you're going to get more blow jobs than you can possibly imagine."

"But another man is going to get them first, isn't he Jeanne."

"Micheal, please understand. I need this."

"You need this. You know what Jeanne, you're not the only one who could use some extra sex. How about if I go out and get a little on the side too?"

"Don't be silly. Look at you Michael. You're losing your hair and you have a middle aged paunch. What woman would want you?"

Appalled by that statement, I stood up. "Well then, there we have it. Apparently I don't do it for you anymore, do I Jeanne? I think this conversation has come to an end."

I turned and started to walk out of the room, but after a few steps I stopped and turned back to my wife. "Jeanne, when is this affair going to begin?"

Clearly upset and having to work to hold herself together, Jeanne quietly said; "Tomorrow night, I have a date."

"A date, tomorrow night; so you've already selected the lucky guy."

"Yes." Jeanne answered in a whisper.

"So who is he?"

Jeanne stared at me for a moment and then she shook her head and said; "No Michael, this has nothing to do with you. This is for me. Who he is is none of your business."

"What! None of my business? Tomorrow night my wife of twenty-six years, the mother of my two daughters, is going to cuckold me with another man and you have the audacity to tell me that his identity is none of my business! Jeanne I apparently no longer know who you are." On that note I turned and and stormed out of the room.

Woodworking is one of my passions. I have a shop in my basement. I took refuge there. I was building a coffee table for Jodie, my youngest daughter. I was setting a piece of wood that was going to become a leg into my lathe when I sensed Jeanne's presence. I froze.

In a whisper, she said; "His name is Derek Fisher. He's a lawyer, but he works for a different firm. We've had several lunches together. He's married."

I turned. "He's married?"

"Yes, I think it's better that way. It reduces the chances for emotional involvement on his part."

"It also means that you're not only going to defile our marriage, you're also going to defile his."

"Michael, why can't you understand this?"

"Oh I do understand. I have a belly and I'm losing my hair. You're not attracted to me anymore."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It came out wrong. Michael, I still find you very attractive. You're the man of my dreams."

"If I'm the man of your dreams then why are you going to fuck someone else tomorrow night?"

"Please understand, this is an experience I need to have."

"Jeanne, I have been faithful to you for the entire twenty-six years we've been married and my intention was to remain faithful to you until the day I died. I will never understand what you're doing."

"Michael, I have to do this."

"Then I don't think we have anything more to talk about, because I will never give you my blessing."

Slowly nodding, Jeanne said; "Very well." And then she turned and walked back up the stairs."

The next day was Wednesday. I supposed that Mr. Derek Fisher had to take my wife out on a week night rather than a weekend so that he could tell his wife that he was attending a meeting of some sort.

I'd been much too angry to even consider sharing a bed with Jeanne so I spent the night in Jodie's old room. As it turned out I was too agitated to sleep. I tossed and turned all night and finally gave up at 5:00 am. After a quick shower I dressed and was out of the house by 5:30. I admit I was trying to avoid Jeanne.

My anxiety about what was going to happen that night made it difficult to focus on my work. The minutes crawled by. I passed some of the time by trying to figure out what I was going to do if Jeanne really did carry out her threat to go out on this date.

Unfortunately I had one account who's file I absolutely had to update that day, so I was forced to try to focus my attention and complete that task.

By the time I was finished updating the file it was almost 5:30. I didn't really want to see Jeanne before she went out, but I knew that wasn't a choice. If I didn't see her I was going to have to spend the entire evening wondering if she really did do it.

Since I didn't actually know what time Jeanne was planning to leave, I hurried home. I pulled into our garage at 6:05. I was relieved to see that Jeanne's Honda was still parked in her stall.

I went inside. As I approached our bedroom I could hear Jeanne bustling about. Not having any desire to watch my wife get ready for a date with another man, I retired to the living room and tried to read the newspaper.

At 6:25 Jeanne emerged from the bedroom. When she walked into the living room and saw me, she stopped. Obviously startled by my presence, she said; "You're home."

"I generally try to come home after work."

"Yes, of course."

Jeanne looked absolutely ravishing. She was wearing a black cocktail dress that I'd never seen before. She'd obviously had her hair done. Her makeup was perfect and she was wearing her favorite string of pearls. They'd been a present from me on our fifteenth wedding anniversary.

"You look very nice tonight."

"Thank you, I tri..." Suddenly realizing that I wasn't likely to appreciate a description of her efforts to look nice for another man, Jeanne stopped herself in mid sentence. After a short pause, she just said, "Thank you."

"Is that a new dress?"

"Yes."

The tone of my wife's voice made it clear that this conversation was making her feel uncomfortable. That didn't bother me at all. What she was doing was making me feel uncomfortable.

Continuing, I said; "I see that you got your hair done."

"Yes, this afternoon."

"You must have left work early."

"Yes, I did."

"It's been a long time since you bought a new dress and got your hair done for an evening out with me."

Closing her eyes, Jeanne sighed and said; "Michael, please don't do this. Please don't make a scene."

"What prompted you to say that? Considering the situation, I think I'm being incredibly well behaved."

Jeanne nodded. "Yes, actually you are."

"What time are you going to meet him?"

"I'm not going to meet him. He's picking me up here."

"He's picking you up here! What time?"

"6:30, in just a minute or two."

"Jeanne, it's August. It's still broad daylight outside. What are the neighbors going to think when they see you get into another man's car obviously dressed for a night out on the town. Are you trying to humiliate me?"

A look of absolute horror flooded Jeanne's face. "Michael, I'm sorry. I don't know what I as thinking." Grabbing her purse, she said; "I'll call him on my cell phone."

I glanced out the window. A black BMW was pulling up to the curb in front of our house. "Jeanne, don't bother. It's too late. Your boyfriend just arrived."

"Michael, he's not my boyfriend."

"Well he sure must be something because It's been years since I've seen you put this much effort into your appearance."

"Michael, I have to go."

"Jeanne, please don't do this."

"Michael, I have to." She turned and started for the front door.

"Jeanne, aren't you going to kiss me good bye?"

My wife froze. Slowly turning back to face me, she said; "I'm sorry Michael. Please forgive me. Of course I'm going to kiss you good bye. I'm just nervous and a little disconcerted right now."

Jeanne hurried back to me, kissed me on the lips and said; "Micheal, I love you, I really do." And then she turned and walked quickly back to the front door.

As she opened it, I said; "Jeanne, I won't be here when you get home."

Jeanne stopped. She thought for a moment and then she turned to me and said; "Don't be silly, of course you'll be here when I get home. You're my husband and I'm your wife. You live here with me."

"Wives don't go out with other men."

"Actually Michael, many of them do. They just don't tell their husbands about it. Now I really do have to go. I'll be late, so don't wait up for me." And then Jeanne turned and hurried out the front door.

I walked over to the window and looked out. Derek Fischer was standing on the curb next to the passenger side door of his BMW. He was a tall man, at least four inches taller than me. He was fit, ruggedly handsome and had a full head of dark wavy hair. It was easy to understand why my wife was attracted to him.

As soon as he saw Jeanne coming down the front steps he opened the passenger door and stepped towards her. When she reached him he greeted her and then to my utter amazement, he put his arms around my wife and kissed her full the lips. As I watched Jeanne kiss him back my heart broke. They held their kiss for several seconds and then Jeanne suddenly pushed him away and stepped back.

After exchanging a few brief words Jeanne turned and looked nervously towards the front window. Since it was still broad daylight, I wasn't certain whether or not she could see me. At that moment I actually didn't care. As far as I was concerned our marriage had ended with that kiss.

Jeanne stared at the front of our house for a moment and then she turned and slipped into Fischer's car. As soon as she was settled he closed her door, walked around the car and got in on the drivers side. A second later they pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street.

Once Fischer and my wife were gone I retrieved a suitcase and a garment bag from a storage cabinet in the garage. I brought them up to the bedroom and quickly packed enough clothing for a week. I carried the bags back down to the garage and placed them in the trunk of my Lexus. As soon as that was done I went back into the house, found a pen and a note pad, sat down at the kitchen table and wrote a note to my wife.

Dear Jeanne,

Thank you for twenty-six wonderful years and two beautiful daughters.

While I will always love you, I will never agree to share you with another man.

Michael

After I finished the note I placed it in the middle of the kitchen table and took a long slow walk around the house. As I moved from room to room I tried to focus on the wonderful memories around me, but I couldn't stop imagining my wife laughing and flirting with Derek Fischer.

Eventually I gave up. Returning to the kitchen, I stared at my note for almost a minute and then with a sigh; I closed my eyes, took off my wedding ring, set it on the table next to the note and walked deliberately out to the garage. Trying not to think, I got into my car and pushed the button that opened the garage door. As I backed into the street I took one last look at the house where I'd spent the most important years of my life and then I shifted my Lexus into drive and accelerated down the street.

I drove to a motel near my office. On the way, I made two stops. The first was at a MacDonalds where I bought a cheese burger and an order of french fries. The second was at a liquor store where I purchased a liter of very good scotch. I didn't get drunk that night, but I did have three stiff drinks.

The drinks helped. At 10:30 I turned off my cell phone, went to bed and actually fell asleep.

I woke up at 6:30. As soon as I realized where I was and why I was there I was overwhelmed by a deep sorrow.

I could have easily spent the entire day lying in that motel room bed wallowing in my misery. I didn't. I knew that it wasn't healthy and I also understood that I had to go to work. Regardless of how lousy my life was, I still had a business to run.

I willed myself out of that bed and into the shower. The shower and a shave helped. Feeling stronger, I put on a shirt, a necktie and one of my business suits and left for work.

It was still only 7:15. I was hungry, so I stopped at Lyle's cafe to get some breakfast. While I was waiting for my eggs, sausages and toast; I turned on my cell phone. There were three messages. Predictably, they were all from Jeanne.

The first one was left at 12:14. Jeanne had gotten home earlier than I'd expected. I listened to it:

"Michael, please call me. You're taking this much too seriously. My fling with Derek is just for sex. He means nothing to me. You're the only man I love. Now quit being childish and call me. I want you to come home. We belong together."

I moved on to the next one. It was left at 12:40.

"Michael, stop being foolish and call me. If we talk I'm sure we can work this out. I love you and only you. Baby, please call me."

The third message was left at 1:10. It was clear that Jeanne had waited exactly thirty minutes before she called me again.

"Michael, you're scaring me. Please call. I don't care if it's four in the morning, just call me. We have to talk. I don't want to lose you over something as insignificant as this. It really isn't that important."

I deleted all three messages and shut off my telephone. I wasn't yet ready to talk to Jeanne and based on her messages, she wasn't ready to talk to me either. Jeanne kept saying that her affair with Derek wasn't a big deal. She was wrong about that. It was a very big deal.

I walked into the reception area of my accounting firm's office at 7:58. My secretary and office manager, Ruth Wilkins was already at her desk. Ruth made it a point to always be in the office before her day officially started at 8:00 AM.

When she heard me come in, Ruth looked up at me and smiled. "Good morning Michael."

Smiling back, I said; "Good morning Ruth."

As I passed by her desk on my way to my office, Ruth said; "Michael, Jeanne just called. She sounded upset. I think you'd better call her."

I stopped. After taking a second to consider what Ruth had just told me, I said; "Ruth, Jeanne and I are in the midst of a major disagreement. For the time being I would prefer to avoid talking to her. I'm certain that she's going to call again. When she does I want you to tell her that I'm unavailable."

12
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