- Loving Wives
- Abed Ch. 02
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Click hereThe boys and girls are one tonight.
They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies.
They take off shoes. They turn off the light.
The glimmering creatures are full of lies.
They are eating each other. They are overfed.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
Anne Sexton
It has always been one of my ways to spend a night between a person's sheets before letting myself think that I understand him or her, much less to criticize that person. I guess that is why I am shocked at the general attitude I receive when I describe my marriage in such lovingly intimate detail. It is so amazing how anyone can judge me for remaining as silent as a bedpost as she brings home lover after lover. Sure there are times I get tired of being treated like furniture, but how can I or anyone else expect anything different. I mean it is clear, she owns me, as a matter of fact she keeps proof of that locked away in her closet.
So yes, I have to simply watch as she slowly guides another man's cock between her legs, I have to feel her movement as he drives her against me with each thrust, or even worse, when she is on top, driving his ass against me. I watch and feel the cum spray across me, feel the dampness of their sweat, saliva and sex. Sure, occasionally I'll groan and complain, but in the end it's only so much squeaking and banging on the wall.
But that's my problem, not anyone else's. Hell I don't see anyone complaining about the sofa and damn, from what I can see in the mirror near the doorway, she has done things with men on that sofa that I know are illegal in several states. I imagine if Kafka's cockroach would hide beneath that sofa it would have some amazingly promiscuous tales to tell. But no, no one has anything to say about the sofa.
And hell the carpet, it had left more rug burns on knees and asses during her escapades than I could count on my legs. Even the carpet cleaners are amazed at the stains and still I get all the grief. Then there is the table, yes, the kitchen table, I can tell you of a Thanksgiving where the entire feast hit the floor as some guy filled her with his own special stuffing. I heard the turkey was dry that year, but she certainly made sure her lover was well basted in her juices.
Of course what pisses me off are those who insinuate that I am lacking something, calling me a wimp husband. Well, let me tell everyone here, I am king size, not a tiny twin size or queen size, I am a full blooded king size. Can any of you limp dicks out there who are criticizing me honestly call yourselves "king size?" No, I thought not. Not only am I king size, but I am an honest to god Serta Perfect. Not "sorta perfect," I am Serta Perfect in every way. So sure she plays around scooting others around the floor, in the end, when the lights go out, she sleeps quietly in my grasp. Now, that's true love.
It might even be different if she would settle down and just fuck one man in front of me, then I might question our relationship, might be afraid I'd end up on the curb, or in the back of some truck or in the junk yard, but no, she plays the field when she plays around. You know, she's even been known to bring the occasional woman home, something I'll never complain about. It is her playing around that keeps me secure in the knowledge she'll always end up in my arms, no man can give her what I can.
In closing, I do admit that it does bother me some, having to witness all this, feeling it happen all over me and though I do enjoy the times we do frolic alone, it still hurts me some each time she shows up with another lover. I have tried to take the high road, forgive her for her lusts, but frankly, being treated like just another piece of furniture does wear on me. I must now confess that I have, in fact, lashed out at her and each one of her lovers. Now I don't have the means to blow them all away like some might want, nor am I capable of really standing up to any of them, but in spite of all that, I'm sure you'll agree my revenge, though subtle, is wonderfully insidious. It seems almost poetic that I can sum up my plan of revenge in a single word: BEDBUGS!
- COMMENTS
Youamiover 1 year agoWTF?!!! Bedbugs? Mmmmmmm...there's a perfect way to extract revenge NOT!!! Are you out of your mind writing this rubbish. Language-wise it reads as if you are trying (and failing) to raise this tale to a cerebral/arthouse level. You failed on all counts.This isn't arthouse, just shithouse.
huedoggalmost 13 years agono man can give her what you do, another pussy whipped cuckold, in a few years you'll be able to lick her lovers balls. Enjoy the creampies cucky.
Anonymousabout 13 years agoThis is ridiculous,if it was not so sad.
Absolutely worthless writer,this !
Tearsofsorrow2over 15 years agoThis story and it's commentators illustrate something I have been feeling for a long time. A great many readers, read the story but they do not comprehend the story. Is the bed a wimp and a cuckhold? Yes. But it is still a bed. And the revenge of Bedbugs is both humorous and appropriate to the story. Now had this been an actually human male I would understand and agree with some of the comments. But in the end it is a bed.
Anonymousover 16 years agoJust a pair of mentally impaired people living in a codependency existence. She lives a life of anything but safe, sane, and consensual, and oontinously places them both at risk of physical abuse as well as medical risk. One could argue his lack of saying no implies consent so perhaps she is correct in that regard. But their is no way either of their actions and behaviors may be considered safe or sane. Sorry I just didnt expect a story of mentally ill sex within the loving wives category. Writers write for one of two reasons. One is ego, to make themselves feel good in one way or aother. The other is to be read by their audience. At this point the writers opinions become less important and the readers evaluations become more important. Perhaps your great literary skills need to really take to heart the critiques and scores given by your real judges, not other writers, but the readers who have the final say.
KOLKOREalmost 17 years agoI was ready to be a bit more critical when I saw all the rage but no explanations to go with it; I figured you must hit on something deeper which I have not noticed so far (not a first and at this point it’s pretty clear it won’t be the last). What is it? The switch from a human narrator to an object? Jeez, where cars and boats are voluntarily treated like women or lovers can’t a bed where you actually do make love on become such transitional object? But I have just added to the quandary not answering it. <P>
If anything, this part turned into quite a benign (all the possible allusions of cheating or humiliated partner have been removed by now) and humorous piece of gotchu -a play on readers expectations and somewhat of a good hearted lesson to the reader to pay better attention to all potential cues. Now what is so enraging in that? <P>
The nomenclature charge is just an excuse of course. All it does is serve a convenience purpose; reaching the type of story you like best. But any author is always free to manipulate any reader on any level as long as it serves the greater good of the literary purpose. How the heck he might have been able to achieve that otherwise? By putting it right from the start in the Humor section (and destroying the surprise)? Or perhaps by posting a ‘warning’ label: “BEWARE READERS!!! This is actually not a dark angry betrayal story but a fun humorous piece”? <P>
<P>As it happens the bed (or should I say Mr. Bed) turns out quite the moral eh... bed, with the sentiments which should have put even the the angriest of commenters at total ease, but no such justice from the readers. Mr. bed proves his moral standing by seting his almost invisible predators on his slightly promiscuous owner and her partners, making it THE MOST ORIGINAL REVENGE OUT COME in recent memory. Top that if you can!
