Three Weeks to Win your Wife

For the first time my misery penetrated Heather's euphoria.

"Are you OK honey? Is anything wrong?"

"No... and yes." I answered heavily.

Heather looked puzzled.

"Meaning what exactly?"

"I mean no I'm not OK and yes there's a lot a wrong. A superstud playboy just had a romantic evening and incredible sex with my wife."

"But I thought that's what you wanted."

"What I want is you to be mine... my adorable, beautiful, darling wife. I don't want you to be stolen from me by a slick operator like Don... or anyone else."

"That's so silly! Don's not a slick operator. He's a generous, considerate gentleman and he's not going to steal me. No one is. I'm your wife and I love you. The other is just sex."

"Is it?" I demanded.

Heather grinned impishly. "Well very good sex... and of course I'm fond of Don. He's a very attractive man. But I'm yours Jack.. one hundred percent."

"So next weekend...?"

"Well I really, really want to go. It's a luxury yacht and... " Heather saw the expression on my face. "But if you're really unhappy about it I guess I could pull out. Tell Don I can't go..."

"So you've already said yes... without asking me?"

For the first time Heather looked a little more concerned as she nodded silently.

"Fuck!"

To my credit I barely slammed the front door as I stormed out. Yes, I should have stayed, talked it through, explained my feelings... but right then I had to get out. I couldn't breathe inside and needed a vigorous walk before I lost it altogether.

The rest of that day we hardly spoke. Over dinner we were like two polite strangers. I did the dishes then went online for a deliberately long time and by the time I went to bed Heather was already asleep... wearing a full and unflattering nightie.

Monday was also quiet and uncomfortable day as we tiptoed round each others feelings and the elephant of an issue.

Tuesday was better. We were both more rested and relaxed... almost back to normal. That night in bed Heather told me that she was going to tell Don that she couldn't go on the boat cruise. In fact she planned to tell Don in person, after work tomorrow, that she wasn't going to see him anymore. We kissed and cuddled but neither of us felt quite ready to make love... at least not until the affair with Don was settled.

Wednesday evening I came home with flowers and a nice bottle of wine. They weren't up to Don's extravagant standards but I had chosen carefully and I was sure Heather would enjoy both. Heather wasn't home. 6pm passed, then 7pm when we usually eat. I had prepared a delicious meal but it would soon be past its best. Where was she? I texted but there was no reply. 8pm, 9pm more texts and still no replies. Now I was worried. Just after 11pm I heard Heather's car in the drive.

She entered rapidly and slamming the door behind her. My worry turned to anger.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"With Don."

"All this time? I thought you were meeting after work to break up with him."

"We met after work for coffee. Then went back to his apartment for dinner and sex... lots and lots of fantastic, anything goes sex!"

I looked at Heather in amazement. She was flushed and looked really angry.

"Why... " I started but Heather interrupted me.

"Don told me about the bet and Pete's party. You set me up you creep."

Hell! What could I say? Don had made a very skillful move.. maybe a winning move. All I could was be honest.

"Heather I'm so sorry it was a crass, awful thing to do. I shouldn't have taken that bet. But did Don tell you that I bet you wouldn't have sex with anyone? I bet that Pete and his mates wouldn't have a chance with you... and that includes Don. Did he tell you that he took the bet... that he seduced you to win the bet?"

"He told me he couldn't believe any husband with a wife like me would put her at risk. He said that once he saw me he couldn't resist the chance to make love to me..."

"But you let him have you... on the couch and in the bedroom. Nobody forced you. You could have stopped at any time but you didn't. You got a massive thrill out of it."

"That's beside the point. You set me up... with the sexy costume and the drinks. I didn't stand a chance. You let me get used for your own sick thrills."

It was true. There was no good answer to her accusation. I went back on the attack.

"So you've just been fucking Don for hours while I was waiting here worried sick, just to get even?"

"No!" Heather's dark eyes were flashing as she bit back. "Not just to get even! I wanted to fuck him. I love fucking him. Sex with Don is sensational. He's so much bigger and better than you! And I'll be fucking him for the whole weekend on the boat whether you like it or not."

With that Heather stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door. I sat there stunned. Eventually I dragged myself up to the spare bedroom and lay on the bed feeling utterly wretched.

Thursday - After sleeping very little I got up early to find that Heather had thrown a change of my clothes out the bedroom door. I showered, put them on and drove off to work without seeing her.

Concentrating at work was almost impossible. The figures seem to blur together. Around 3pm there was a text from Heather. "Not hme 2nite. Staying @ Dons. Boat goes 2moro @ 4. CU Sunday pm." Concise and brutal.

My first impulse was to text back... "You marriage wrecking bitch! I hope the boat blows up and sinks!" or something similar... but I didn't. I gradually regained control. After all if I hadn't "set up" Heather at Pete's party she would never have met Don, never have been screwed by him and we wouldn't be in the situation now. I texted back a less honest but considerably more sensible...

"Hope you have a great time and that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I feel so stupid and so sorry. Miss you. Love you. Your sad, idiot of a husband." (I hate text speak and fortunately my smart phone has a good voice recognition program.)

Next I called Pete and asked him if he could join me at O'Bryans for dinner and some brews... my shout. Pete must have realized something was wrong and said he could shift a few things around and meet me there around 6.30. O'Bryans was crowded but I managed to find a quietish corner overlooking the micro brewery. O'Bryans brewed its own fine ales and they were very fine indeed. The food was good as well but I wasn't feeling hungry.

Pete arrived as I was halfway through my first pint. We drank, ate, talked about work, sport and the other usual trivia. It was just what I needed to take my mind off the fact that Don was currently ramming his huge, hard cock into my wife's wet and willing pussy. Pete interrupted my reverie.

"So what's up mate? Ya look like your nads have been ripped off by a dingo!"

I had to laugh. "I think they have been Pete." Pete wasn't the most sympathetic listener but he knew the background to my situation and did listen closely while I told him the events of the last two weeks.

"Bloody hell mate. That bet's come back to bite your arse bigtime! That Don's a fuckin snake .

Ya just don't do that... steal a bloke's wife from under him."

"You think he'd do that?"

"Too right mate. He's got no scruples that one. That's why I sold up my share of the pub." Pete and Don used to be partners in a downtown bar.

"I didn't know you had pulled out of that. I thought it was doing really well."

"Yeah... it was going great guns... still is. But I didn't like Don's style of business. Sails too close to the wind if you get my meaning. Cuts too many corners." I stored away that piece of information.

"But something's not right," Pete continued. "I've known Don for over ten years and I know how he operates with women. This act he's pulled on your wife... it doesn't add up."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm not knocking your little Heather... she's a cracker... but she's not Don's type. He likes his sheilas tall, leggy, blonde and a lot younger... barbie, bimbo types. And he never puts in that much time or effort. He likes a quick hunt, a good root and it's on to the next one. In like Flynn then off like a robber's dog. Make's ya wonder what he's playing at."

"You don't think he really loves Heather... wants her for keeps?"

"Don??? Not a chance mate. I reckon he'd get a kick out of stealing your wife and rubbing your nose in it... but that's not it. That wouldn't get him spending so much time and dosh. No... there's something else going on. I'll have a sniff round. See if I can find out what's really happening."

I found Pete's conversation encouraging and worrying at the same time. We played a few games of pool and darts, drank a few more ales and I found myself actually enjoying the evening, as long as I could keep my mind off what was happening in Don's apartment.

Friday. My house felt horribly empty both when I got home and when I got up in the morning. Even when we were in different rooms I could feel Heather's presence bringing life and warmth to the place but not now. I was glad to head out to work and distract myself in the station's accounts. My house was still lifeless and empty when I returned. There was a note from Heather on the kitchen bench. She had obviously popped back during the afternoon to pick up her things for the weekend and had left again.

"Dear Jack. It may take a while but I think I forgive you fro what happened at the party. I'm sorry I said those horrible things but I was very angry. We need to talk when I get home on Sunday night. Love Heather."

Not ideal but a lot more hopeful than a short, angry text. I clung on to the apology and the word love at the end of the note. In fact, pathetic as it may seem, I took the note to bed with me and read it over and over as I lay alone in our queen sized bed.

Saturday. I can't tell you much about that weekend. I tried to keep myself busy during the day and that night hit the bottle and drank myself into oblivion. I had texted Heather a couple of times but received no replies. I thought they might be out of range until I got a text from Don.

"Hey Jack... having a great time rockin the boat. Been fucking all Heather's holes non stop since we got on board. Looks like I got me an insatiable little nympho here. Cheers. Don"

I nearly threw my phone across the room.

Sunday was a long, horrible, hung-over day. I felt so depressed I even contemplated going to church... seeing if I could convince God to smite Don and bring back Heather. I had no idea when she'd be home but I pulled myself together and cleaned up my mess. By 6pm I had the place spotless and a nice meal cooking... salmon and pasta... one of Heather's favorites. By 8pm the meal was spoiled and by 10pm I was exploring new depths of depression.

Heather arrived around 10.30pm. She was looking a little pink from the sun and very tired. She tolerated my hug and kiss but barely responded. I tried to start a conversation.

"Are you hungry darling?"

"No I've already eaten. Just need to get to bed."

"I thought you wanted to talk."

"Not now Jack. I'm too tired. I've hardly had any sleep for two nights."

Heather went up to our room and was asleep before I managed to drag my miserable carcass up the stairs. I looked at her there, curled up in our bed and didn't see my wife but rather Don's insatiable , little nympho. I spent another night in the spare room.

Monday morning, the start of week third week since the party. Heather woke up late and was rushing to reach work on time but she seemed quite cheerful and gave me a quick kiss before rushing out the door. She was home when I came in after work and cooking a meal. We chatted and drank some beer while she cooked. The place felt alive again, almost back to normal.

Over dinner we talked about all sorts of inconsequential things. We both skirted around the weekend. I asked about the boat.. which was of course palatial... the weather... where they had gone etc. but we avoided the salacious details of how they had spent most of their time.

After dinner we were cuddled on the couch watching some rubbish on TV. I switched it off and broached the big question.

"So Heather... are you still mad with me?"

"No," she replied thoughtfully. "I'm not. It'll take a while for me to trust you again but I've been thinking of how good you've been to me over the last six years... how good we've been together. What you did was really bad but one bad mistake doesn't outweigh all the good stuff."

"So we're Ok? You still love me?"

"Of course I love you. You're my husband. I'm you're wife. I'll always love you."

My heart danced. I leaned down and kissed her neck. She turned her head and when I kissed her lips she returned the kiss with real affection. My hand slid down from her shoulders to her soft, full breasts which I gently squeezed. Sadly she was wearing a bra. As the kiss deepened I slid one of my hands lower... but Heather caught it on her stomach and held it there.

Right then I felt a desperate need that was more than just sexual. I needed to reclaim my wife.

"Please..." I pleaded "Heather my darling... it's been over a week."

"I can't hon... I'm still too tender down there. And Don told me not to have sex. He wants me all better before I see him on Wednesday."

I lept to my feet, spilling Heather on the couch, towering over her.

"That fucking asshole ordered you not to have sex with me...your husband... so he can fuck you again on Wednesday! And you're listening to him... obeying him!! I don't fucking believe it!

Heather looked scared. She had never seen me so angry.

"Heather why? Why!? You just said you loved me... but you're giving yourself to this slimy, self satisfied prick, doing what he tells you, being his fuck toy. Why?"

"It's not like that Jack. He's not like that. He's treats me so well... and the sexual pleasure he gives me is out of this world. "

"Do you love him?"

"Yes I do Jack. I love him and he loves me."

"Oh dear God!"

I couldn't stand still. I roamed the room, hyperventilating, torn between rage and tears. Heather tried to be the voice of reason.

"Jack calm down. Come and sit still. We can work this out."

"How? You're in love with another man? How can we possibly work this out?"

"But I still love you honey... you're still my husband. Surely I can love both of you... lots of couples do it. We can find some way to share... "

I laughed bitterly. "Share... Don's just had you four nights out of the last five and two whole days... and he told me you spent the entire time fucking."

"He told you...?"

"Yes. Don sent me a gloating text from the boat. I can show it to you."

Heather looked perturbed. "But I thought this is what you wanted... to share me with other men."

"No! What I want is you! I want my wife back Heather. My wife having sex with other men was a powerful turn on for me... an obsession almost... but not seeing you stolen by another guy... that was never something I wanted." I forced myself to sit on the couch beside her and took her hands... staring into her eyes imploringly.

"I never wanted to lose you. When you had sex with those other guys you were still mine. It was like we were in it together... it was our sexuality on a thrilling journey. But this isn't my fantasy... it's real and it's a nightmare. I'm so scared Heather and I'm so sorry I put our marriage at risk. I promise on my life that I'll never do it again. But please Heather, please don't leave me for Don."

"I don't want to leave you honey. I don't want our marriage to end. But I do want to go on seeing Don... can't you give me that?"

"No... no I can't... I can't share you with Don... and I don't think for a moment that he'll share you with me. It's only been a couple of weeks damn it and he's already dominating you, possessing you.

Can't you see that he's a predator? He collects women like trophies and then leaves them. He's had hundreds."

"No... I don't believe you. He's not like that. Our love isn't like that."

"Heather I've loved you for six years and if you let me I'll love you for another sixty. He's known you for a fortnight. You said he's a better at sex than me... OK I believe you... but I don't believe that he knows you and loves you the way I do. Not even close. Heather my darling for the sake of our marriage, for the sake of our future you've got to let him go."

I could see Heather's was a mess of conflicting emotions. There were tears in her eyes.

"Please don't make me choose Jack... "

"You have to choose Heather. Either you stay with me and we rebuild our marriage... or you let Don have what he wants... which is you... completely to himself. Who do you love more Heather... him or me?"

The tears were rolling down Heather's cheeks.

"Oh Jack..." she began, her voice shaking with regret. Suddenly I was terrified. I knew she was going to choose Don. I quickly interrupted her.

"You don't have to choose now. Let's at least sleep on it." Heather gratefully agreed. We lay in our bed side by side, almost touching but with a gaping void between us. Heather's always been a great sleeper and in spite of the stormy evening she fell asleep quickly... still tired from her sex marathon.

I lay awake with my brain racing. I had laid all my cards on the table and she was still going to go with Don. I was sure of it. The shiny, new exciting, handsome big-cock lover beats the faithful old husband every time. What could I do? I couldn't force her to stay. I couldn't reason with Don. He'd enjoy watching me humiliate myself. It would just sweeten his conquest. I certainly couldn't intimidate him physically. I'm not a coward but I'm also not a fighter. Don was younger, stronger and bigger than I am. In a fight he'd wipe the floor with me and enjoy doing it. If I hired someone to beat him up, Don could hire ten guys to put me in a coma.

These were the sort of thoughts that were rushing around in my head as I paced around the house. About 3am I took a little blue pill. No, not a Viagra. That was the last thing I needed. It was a sleeping pill with the sci fi name of Zopiclone. I used these pills very occasionally and they were usually effective.

Just before I went to sleep I had the germ of an idea. I couldn't beat Don in a fight and apparently I couldn't compete in the bedroom... but maybe I could fight him on my turf... my area of expertise.

Tuesday morning I badly overslept. The Zopiclone had done its work too well. I was already late for work and Heather had already gone. I called the station and cancelled my appointments, telling them I was sick which was actually true. I felt dreadful. I tried calling and texting Heather but there was no response. Then around 4pm. came the text that I'd be dreading.

"Staying over @Dons." Just that. Three words and a symbol effectively ended our marriage. She had chosen her man and it wasn't me. That bastard Don had won. My wife was now his.

Believe it or not, I'm not a complete chauvinist. I loathe that notion of women being property! Yes Heather was my wife. my lover, my best friend but equally I was hers. She didn't belong to me, we belonged to each other but now that bond was broken after the best six years of my life. Sadly I doubt that Don shares my views on women. He's such an accomplished seducer I don't think my innocent wife really had a chance. It was his choice not hers. As Don added her to his list of trophies I was worried that Heather was about to discover just how possessive he could be.

I hit the booze again, heavily. It took the edge off the sensation of someone twisting a knife in my gut. I must confess I contemplated downing the rest of my Zopiclone. I thought that combined with the alcohol they might finish me off. But what if they didn't and I woke up in hospital with my stomach pumped, Heather still with Don and all my friends seeing me as a total wimp and loser.