Selfish Spouse

"I'm sorry Mr. Ross, she isn't in her office. Can I take a message?"

Yeah, you can take a message. Tell the lying bitch to answer her Goddamn cell phone. "No Cynthia. Just tell her that her HUSBAND called and to please call me back when she gets this."

"Will do Mr. Ross."

This conversation that I just had with my wife's secretary was an exact replica of yesterday's. In fact, my "wife" has been incognito for pretty much the last month. Her cell phone would go straight to voice mail. When I called her work, she was never at her desk. I would leave message after message, voice mail after voicemail and wait by a phone that never rang.

There was a time when Chris would answer my calls on the second ring. She always sounded excited to hear from me. Her voice would be bubbling over with love and affection. What happened to those days? Lately it seemed like I had to make an appointment just to ask her what time she will be home.

God, when we were first married we were so in love! We were perfect together; it was like we were fated to grow old as Mr. as Mrs Ross. Before her, I couldn't imagine giving any woman my last name. The ones that I dated were either too bossy, too jealous, too clingy, or too ugly. The worst were the "independent ones". You know who they are. The ones who claim that they don't need a man to do anything for them, yet want you to treat them like they are goddesses.

Chris wasn't any of those things. She was so loving, tender, attentive, and hot as hell. Until recently, she was never one of those wives who nagged their husbands into an early grave. We never argued. I mean NEVER. We didn't even have little tiffs. If it came to a disagreement, she would say, "It's okay babe. Just do what you feel is right." Then I would hear nothing else about it.

When we first met, I was a young attorney on the rise. I had just graduated from Harvard Law and I was ready to grab the world by the nuts and make it my bitch. I didn't have dreams, I had goals. Fuck being a good lawyer, I wanted to be GREAT.

Chris was a waitress at my favorite restaurant. I used to take my clients there when I was trying to close a deal or have a casual meeting away from the office. She was the perfect combination of a pretty smile, a shy innocence, and a flirty fireball. She had subtle beauty, not the in-your-face slut kind. I always made sure to sit in her section.

There was something about her that drew me in. I don't know what it was, but I was hooked.

Over a 6 month period, I was able to piece together a rough sketch of who she was. She was still in college (senior) and studying to be teacher. Other than the waitressing job, she was a substitute teacher at an elementary school and a private tutor to a couple of spoiled rich high schoolers.

When I finally couldn't take it anymore, I asked her out on a date. She blushed and laughed nervously before she turned me down. That was the first time. Since I ALWAYS get what I want, I put up a full court press. I started showing up at the restaurant when I knew that she was finishing her shift with a fresh bouquet of roses; I left love notes under the windshield wipers of her beat up Honda Civic; I did it all. The act of chivalry that finally won her over was when I showed up to one of her classes that she was subbing in for. I dropped to one knee in front of all of those kids and asked her be my girlfriend. I even had a cheap plastic ring. Under the pressure from all of the girls in the 6th grade who thought I was Prince Charming (I knew they would eat that corny shit up) she accepted a date. From there I didn't stop until we said I do.

My Chris knew my goals and she supported them 100%. It often meant a lot of time away from home and the occasional dinner with a client, but she handled everything with grace and elegance.

I was moving up pretty quickly in the world of Law. The more success I had, the more I wanted. I remember a quote from The Matrix. The oracle asked Neo, "What does any man with power want? More power." Truer words were never spoken

I will say that living a life of luxury agreed with my wife. She went from being a subtly pretty school teacher to a sultry bombshell. She still taught, but they weren't kids anymore. After marrying me she went for her Masters and landed a job at the local university. I think she taught English or some shit like that. I don't know. But I know that she had a loyal following of students who sang her praises.

On top of being the most loved teacher in history, she was a doting wife to me. She entertained my clients and charmed them with her clever humor. She made me look like a rock star with her submissive deference to me. She was the perfect arm piece.

When we weren't entertaining clients and taking the world by storm, we spent a lot of time together. She would actually watch basketball and football with me. I have never met a woman who would do that until her. We both liked Italian food, so Vinnie's was the place that we most frequented (the place that she worked). She even liked the action movies that I liked. No sappy romance for this girl!

Chris was the kind of woman that could sit and watch a basketball game with me, then go upstairs and turn into Jenna Jameson. She liked to do EVERYTHING! She would suck my dick until I came in her mouth, she would let me have her back door while she grunted appreciatively; she even wore little outfits to tease my friends when they would come over for poker night. She was a hell of a woman indeed.

We both decided that we didn't want to have kids yet. We were having too much fun living. We were young, in love, and had the entire world at our finger tips. With no kids to keep us anchored, we had the freedom of the world. We could travel anywhere we wanted at a moment's notice, we could buy anything that we wanted, we could have sex anywhere in the house (or outside of the house) at any time the mood hit us.

There was one evening that changed the nature of our relationship. It was at a dinner that I was having with a client named Mr. Wellington. He brought his wife along so naturally I brought mines. I was trying to close this guy and was working really hard. He was an older man who practically shit money. He stayed in constant need of legal help with fictitious paternity suits and trumped up sexual harassment claims against him. The money that I brought in from him alone would go a long way to making me a partner in my firm.

Needless to say, this was too important for me to leave anything off of the table.

When he arrived at the restaurant, my wife and I were already sitting. Let me say that she looked GORGEOUS this evening. I bought her a new cocktail dress and a diamond necklace just for this occasion. I needed us to look like success personified.

My plan worked too well. I noticed that Mr. Wellington took an immediate liking to my wife. In fact, he was openly flirting with her. The fact that HIS wife and I were present at this dinner was irrelevant. He made sexual innuendos and inappropriate jokes with such ease that I was disoriented at first. I calmed myself down and remembered why I was here. Besides, his wife seemed to be okay with it. She didn't even look up from her champagne glass long enough to give him an incredulous stare. I figured that since his wife wasn't getting too upset then I should relax. More than likely it was harmless.

Chris, however, did not relax. She was noticeably uncomfortable. She didn't laugh at his crude jokes and would shoot awkward glances my way. I tried to ignore her and focus on this client.

As the evening wore on I noticed the Chris became more and more irritated. Where she first tried to veil her discomfort, now she was blatant about it. Then she became downright rude. I finally had to excuse us and drag her off towards the bathrooms to calm her down.

"Chris, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean what's wrong with me? Are you even at the same table with me? Tell me that you notice your disgusting client making passes at me RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU"

"That's just the way he is. HIS wife isn't making a big deal about it."

"That's because that bitch is so coked up right now that she'd be calm if the restaurant caught on fire."

"Chris please! I just need you to bear it for a little longer. Just don't make a scene. "

"Fine honey. I'll do my best. But if that greasy bastard puts his hands on me one more time, I'm gonna punch him in his fat face!"

With that she stormed to the table. It wasn't until I sat down that her words registered to me. When did he put his hands on her?

I took closer notice to Chris. I realized two things. One; my client's chair was positioned so that his hands were out of my sight, but he was close enough to discretely reach my wife. Two; she would jump every so often and give me a pleading stare, like she was asking me to rescue her. That is when I realized that this bastard had been silently molesting my wife all evening.

I was so fucking pissed! But I needed this asshole's money. So I did what I told her to do. I grinned and bared it.

The dreadful evening was finally brought to a close. Chris sat in my BMW and looked out of the passenger side window as jazz played in the background noise of the radio. She was right next to me, but I could tell that she was still back at the restaurant.

I tried to bridge the chasm between us by grabbing her hand and gingerly kissing it. She simply snatched her hand away and continued to ignore me.

When we got home, I'd had enough.

"Look Chris, I'm sorry that Mr. Wellington rubbed you the wrong way. But goddamit, you aren't going to have me walking around on egg shells about it!"

She looked at me and scoffed. "RUBBED ME THE WRONG WAY? You have no fucking idea how he 'rubbed me'. You were too busy sucking up to his money to care."

"Look Chris, just because a client got a little handsy with you doesn't give you the right to treat me like shit!"

She looked at me with the most pained expression that a wife can give her husband. It was a look of pain, disappointment, and anger all crashed together on her face.

"You KNEW that bastard was trying to finger fuck me all night and you LET HIM!"

This was news to me. I assumed that he was rubbing her thighs or something, but I had no idea he was that bold. Still, I had to maintain control of the situation. So I just rolled with it.

"For Christ's sake Chris! I'm trying to be a partner. We BOTH have to make sacrifices for that to happen. So this time a client got a little fresh with you. It's over. Just let it go and move on!"

"Fine Terry. Just let me know the next time you need to pimp me out to get you further ahead in life. I give a pretty mean blow job if they get bored groping me. Lord knows I don't have any ambitions of my own. I thought I was a well-respected Professor and a loving wife, but thank you for letting me know that none of that matters next to my most important role in your life. YOUR FUCKING WHORE!"

Needless to say things were pretty frosty at our house. But that is why God made lawyers make so much money. A couple of earrings and a spa treatment later, I was back in her good graces.

There were a few more incidents where clients flirted with my wife, but none as flagrant as Mr. Wellington. Chris learned to handle the others with more grace than she did that night. Sometimes she even flirted back. I think she realized that it was for the greater good. Besides that, I think she secretly enjoyed the attention.

Yep, our life together was really great. Then, as it is with most wives who have it way too easy, she got complacent. She started taking me for granted. What is it with women? They get the perfect husband who gives them everything that they can dream of and they begin to act like WE owe THEM.

She began spending more time at work and less time at home. She was forming a rift between us that was getting bigger by the day. She started finding reasons to argue with me. It got to the point that she was always being a bitch.

The next thing to be affected was our sex life. It took a drastic nose dive. I didn't realize it at first though. I was going through every day thinking that everything was fine until I looked at her one night as she lay next to me. She'd just gotten out of the shower and was smelling like mango or whatever fruit her shower gel smelled like. She was meticulously wrapping her hair up for the night. With her arms above her head and her shirt tight against her breasts, I noticed that her nipples were a little hard. I had the sudden urge to ravage my wife.

"Hey honey, why don't you roll over here and give daddy some of that sweet stuff." I growled hungrily at her. She stopped wrapping her hair for a moment and looked at me in surprise. Then she turned away with a look of indifference and continued her task.

"Sorry honey, I had a long day. On top of that, I have a splitting headache." The words came out with such nonchalance that she could have been describing her grocery list. With that she rolled over and cut off her lamp. I laid there in confusion as she pretended to sleep.

I thought back on our sex life. I realized that it had deteriorated so much that I actually forgot how my wife looked naked. I mean, we had sex occasionally, but lately it was more of a "she let me do my thing" sort of experience. She didn't even get fully undressed. And I can't remember the last time I'd seen her "O" face. Now, at least for the past 6 weeks, it had died completely. How had I missed it?

I grew angrier by the second. I mean, here I was busting my ass to be the best husband and provider to her, and she has the nerve to turn me down when I want to play?

"What the fuck Chris! You had a long day? You have a headache? I'm the one busting my ass all day dealing with clients and snobby ass attorneys. The least you can do is give me a little loving after a long day."

She turned over and looked at me in the face for a couple of moments. She shook her head, sat straight up and turned on the light. At least she wasn't ignoring me anymore.

"In case you haven't realized Terry, I have a job too."

"Let's not even get into your JOB. You read from a book to a bunch of college kids who would rather be out partying anyway. Besides that, I make more than enough for you to quit that job and be available to give your husband some relief. Do you realize that last time we had sex was over a month ago?"

I thought that this would make her realize how unreasonable she was. Instead, this fueled her fire even more.

"So you think that my only JOB is to sit around and babysit a bunch of kids for an hour and a half. Is that what you're telling me I prepare lesson plans, grade papers, give counseling, go to meetings, and make up tests for? I do all of that to prepare myself to get up in front of hundreds of students MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY so that I can keep them busy in between keg parties and wild orgies? Do you think so little of me and what I do that you honestly feel that way?"

Suddenly the bravado was sucked out of me. When she put it like that, it sounded so insensitive. Before I could recant my careless words she was off again.

"Fuck you Terry! Fuck you and your arrogant self-entitled attitude!" With that she stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut. "And if you need 'relief' why don't you go FUCK YOURSELF!"

And then there was silence.

The next morning she was gone before I woke up. I knew that she slept in the guest bedroom because the bed wasn't made. It looked like she rushed out to avoid me.

"Well, fuck you too." I muttered to no one in particular as I started toward the bathroom to begin the morning ritual. I'd have to remember to send Stephanie (my secretary) to Tiffany's to get me out of the doghouse.

The rest of my day went without a hitch. No matter what was going on at home, when I got to work I was fierce. No matter how much my wife shit on me, I was a lion once I walked into the foyer of the firm.

It was when my secretary peeked her head in to let me know that she was heading home to her fiancé that I remembered that I needed her help with Chris.

"Damn Stephanie, I forgot to tell you to get me a 'get out of the doghouse' gift for Chris."

She laughed and shook her head, her red locks falling over her shoulders with each turn of her head. Did I forget to tell you that Stephanie was an absolute hottie with a tight body and a face of an angel?

"If you look in your closet on the top shelf, I got you several 'get out of the doghouse' gifts for your wife. You've needed so many that it just made sense to get you an account at Tiffany's"

God, what would I do without this woman? "You're a lifesaver Steph. I have to remember to get you a present."

"Oh don't worry. You always get me something for my birthday and Christmas."

She began pointing to several rather expensive pieces of jewelry that draped her neck, ears, and fingers.

"I bought you those?"

"Oh yeah! And I must say that you have great taste, but I suspect that your wonderful secretary bought them on your behalf. " she said with a playful laugh. I couldn't help but to smile.

"I'm glad that you like them. I don't know what I would do without my life-saving secretary!"

"Well, if you want my opinion, you should really think about giving her a raise." As she walked out, I couldn't help admiring her shapely ass.

When I got home, Chris wasn't there. I looked at my watch and reaffirmed that it was 9:00 pm. Where the fuck could she be this late?

I absent-mindedly tossed her necklace (doghouse gift) on the kitchen counter and grabbed a beer from the fridge. It's a good thing that I had a long client dinner and didn't need my wife to cook for me. That would be too repressive for "The Professor". Good to know that being a loving wife is a distant second to snotty nosed teenagers.

I was just about to make my way up to the room to get out of my suit when I heard the garage door open and her car drive in. I changed my mind and sat on a stool at the island while I waited for her to enter.

She took 15 minutes. It was like she knew I was waiting for her and she wanted to piss me off. She finally emerged from the garage and into the kitchen. She saw me sitting there and she brushed right past me. No "sorry I'm late" or "have you been waiting long". She brushed right past me like she didn't even need to give an explanation.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I bellowed. She stopped in the doorway and turned to face me. I thought her face would be startled, but it was more like she was annoyed with me.

"I was at work. Where the fuck have you been all day?"

"Don't you dare try to go on the offensive with me. It's fucking 9:00. Since when do you work this late?"

An arrogant smirk crawled across her face. It held a mixture of irritation and mocking amusement. "Is this an interrogation? Am I under oath right now?"

"No, but you're under your wedding vows. WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?"

She shook her head and turned to walk out with an scoff. "Like you care."

She was headed for the stairs, but I made my way out of the other entrance to the kitchen grabbing the necklace as I went. I practically ran through our living room, and cut her off right before she reached them.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You come strolling in here at 9 fucking o'clock without so much as a 'how was your day' and then have to nerve to give me the brush off? After I went and bought you this?"

I thrust the necklace in front of me like it was the Holy Grail. She eyed it dispassionately and grabbed it with as much enthusiasm as a person would grab a newspaper. Then she pushed past me and went upstairs. "Tell Stephanie I said thanks." She yelled over her shoulder before she disappeared.

Things didn't thaw any the next day, or the day after that. I tried to engage Chris, but she didn't give me time of day. She only spoke to me when she had to, and then she didn't say anything more than was absolutely necessary. When she did acknowledge my presence, she was coldly polite. She used the same indifferent tone that I use when I'm involved with a difficult client.