A Wife's Sin is a Win, Win, Win

A Wife's Sin Is A Win Win Win, Well

maybe not so much for him

These fictional characters are a mixed bag. None are really sweet people. They're, struggling with life to get what they want, or need, and hopefully stay within the mainstream of humanity. It is a copyrighted work of fiction; it is not alright to publish it elsewhere.

DawnJ was kind enough to edit the work, and as she caught many errors, the story is much the better for it. She is an accomplished writer on LE worth your attention. Unfortunately I re did some of it, so any blame is mine.

Chilley

*

Last Saturday my mother finally realized I work for a living. She knew I didn't have an eight to six job like my brother and would often tell me, "He works so hard, and his wife needs him home with her." But me, she expected me to drop everything and come over immediately, already in working clothes, whenever she called.

On the rare occasions when my brother does stop to see her, he wears a suit and tie, sits around chatting with her for a measured thirty minutes, and then hits her up for moderate sums of money. I wouldn't mind so much if he did some useful work for her as well. The useful work is one of my contributions to Mom's comfort. Oh well, we're different, he and I. My cousin Albert also has a worthless brother who also largely ignores their mother's needs. Albert once told me:"We're the good sons!"

Lately mom's been worrying about what I do to earn money. Of course she knows I make a decent living, maybe because I dress poorly, apparently have lots of free time to do stuff for, and obviously have money. Whatever, she's reluctant to ask me about my job, maybe fearing the answer. A week ago she implied that whatever I was doing might be illegal. I reassured her but of course, the trouble was, if I was doing something illegal, I would lie about it wouldn't I?

I had to do something to set her mind at ease. It was April, and I had my tax returns out ready to mail, so I brought over a copy to show her how well her younger son was doing, and where my money came from. She sat down heavily, expecting god knows what. She saw I cleared over half a million dollars last year. I didn't tell her it was a very, very exceptional year because the goal was to ease her mind. Her first question was, "Was it legitimate?" We had another long talk about real estate and I reassured her I was doing fine. Her short term memory's not so good, so I'll probably have to repeat it all again. I hope she doesn't tell my brother, he'll try to hit me up for money too.

I've bought and sold real estate for ten years. I live modestly and made a bundle of money during the housing bubble you read about. House prices went nuts; people bought bigger and bigger ones, far beyond their needs and means to pay for them. Prices would continue to go up faster than the cost to build new ones, and everyone would make money.

I was heavily leveraged, meaning a lot or properties with 100% mortgages as it was hard not to make money. I keep a lot of records, one of which was how long houses were staying on the market, so when the buyers were slowing down, I sold out locking in a lot of profit. When the banks started to turn down mortgages, I realized the real estate boom was over, I shorted stock in home building companies and cleaned up again when the reported losing money over the depressed housing market. Sadly I wasn't with the 'in crowd' when the government gave billions of free money to failed banks. I could have doubled my money if I had.

I didn't sell everything, I kept two properties, both old historic homes well maintained in great neighborhoods. One is rented out, and the other I live in.

The rental is an old house and according to the guy that sold it showed me a list of owners going back to 1747. It's a lovely old home owned by one or two prominent people over the years, genuinely a part of local history.

Right now the renter is behind on payments. He had a couple of late payments earlier in the year which to his credit he made good, but nevertheless it's a bad sign. I've nicknamed him Bullshit Billy. He makes, or made, very good money as a salesman for Mercedes Benz...hell of a salesman he is, too. His wife June is a lovely woman who has the luxury of being a homemaker with a couple of kids.

I'm willing to cut people a break when they have occasional trouble paying, but I can't afford to support them. Bullshit Billy's got a pattern of late payments and has hit the magic button of one five weeks in arrears. No apology no acknowledgment, like I haven't noticed! I got him on the phone and he gives me attitude. I pushed, and with condescending reluctance in his voice he agreed to a meeting. I told him from my end it was a case of get up to date or get out.

I knocked on the door ten minutes early. They expect you to make them wait, being on time, you're too eager, but early is an imposition...a sign you don't care ready or not here I am!

His wife June answered faked a smile and invited me in. Wearing a crisp blouse a size too small, her bra bound boobs strained a bit at the buttons, plus a clinging skirt that silhouetting her ass, hung just short of her knees. She worked out because her caves were well rounded.

Her sandals slapped her feet as she led me into the kitchen.

"Billy around, he said he'd be here."

Her response sounded studied, maybe scripted, her expression said she didn't want to be here.

"Oh William got called in to work this morning, but we talked about this last night. Come sit down."

I followed her into the kitchen, watching her ass, noticing the outline of granny panties. The skirt was modest and proper, but clung to her hips and outlined the curves of her ass, swaying as the ass cheeks moved. I hadn't seen her for a couple of years, and in the flesh she looked even better than I'd remembered her. I really liked those muscular legs and broad ass. I was swelling just looking at them.

She has dark hair and smallish tits, so from the front, her face was the attraction, full mouth with a strong, slightly bowed nose. The nose is particularly charming because the bridge wrinkles when she smiles or laughs. She has a damaged throaty alto voice so she probably smoked at one time. I was in lust then, and am more so now! She was grace in every detail and too good for that asshole husband.

The kitchen is on the small side for modern tastes with fireplace and large windows. She sat on a stool behind the kitchen counter presuming that I would sit on one of the two stools across the counter from her. That would put her in her own space with the wide solid counter as a barrier between us.

Not going to happen. There was a Windsor chair against the wall by the telephone. So I picked it up, and set it down in the small space between her and the refrigerator, our knees inches apart. I was facing her with my back to the refrigerator. She was now sitting higher than me, perched on the stool with her back against the intersection of the counters. Normally being higher than your opponent is the power position, but this was the exception because she was cornered. She was exposed in such a position, and rather than affording psychological protection, the massive kitchen counter trapped her. I sank into my chair and was pleased to see her skirt was a problem.

A woman wearing a skirt and sandals is naked from the knees down, and her need to keep her knees together emphasized her vulnerability. She was very exposed in such a position, and rather than affording psychological protection, the massive kitchen counter trapped her. I had deliberately invaded her space.

She was uncomfortable and tried to redirect me, get me to follow her plan:

"Chris, that's not a very comfortable chair, wouldn't you rather sit on one of the nicer ones?" gesturing nervously over the counter"

"I'm good. My back has been bothering me and this chair is good for it. Your husband called this meeting. I would have thought it was more important to him. So! Mrs. Carson, you speak for him?"

My god she was a nice looking woman! Nice feet with high arches, straight toes in a nice smooth curve. Her toe nails were broad, with clear polish, trim ankles, full calves, and the rest of her full of lovely curves. A vision of her lying naked, with me holding her foot up, sucking her toes while viewing her gaping cunt flashed through my mind I wonder if I can fuck her? Shit, play my cards right, I bet I can!

She finely answered

"Well, err like I said, he was called in to work. Someone called out sick."

" Figures! You're stuck with the job. You know why I'm here, so you want to go first?"

Her eyes were blinking noticeably and she didn't make eye contact with me, clearly upset and fighting for control.

"Sure, for both of us. Ah...well Chris, you know what the economy is like. We don't have the money right now. It's that William, you know, William's not making so much as he was a while ago, you know, car sales are way way down. You see the news! Lots of people laid off, but he's still the #1 salesman in the dealership, but the sales just aren't there right now. I mean it's, well the whole industry's in a slump. Not just us."

I did the most effective thing at the beginning of this negotiation. I looked her in the eyes, pointedly avoiding looking at her charms, didn't move, and said nothing. She rattled on.

"You know the whole economy is down. Everything! I mean, I've been looking for a job too, but there's, like, nothing out there."

She said this while looking at the telephone on the wall beside me, as though praying for an interruption. She was rubbing her palms on her skirt, giving me an excuse to lower my gaze to her hands on her thighs. I shrugged my shoulders, like I could care about all this. She rambled on with her solution to the problem:

"We can't pay $3,500 a month. Not now. We can only pay $2,500 every month... That's what we can do...all we can do right now. I have a check for you right here."

I still said nothing. She belatedly noticed where my eyes were, her thigh muscles rippled clamping her knees tightly together. Poor woman, she was sweating a bit, reflexively pushing her skirt down as she tried nervously to cover more of herself, drawing further attention to her discomfort.

"I mean with the housing market down, even $2500 is over market, so it's not such a bad deal for you either."

Time to jump in.

"If this house is too much for your budget, why not just move?"

"Well, you know, we're really comfortable here. The boys are doing well in school. We entertain a lot, and the house...the house is sort of special. I just love it here. It's got so much...so much 'old' to it. There's something about it! Magic! I'm sure you feel it too."

"And Billy?"

"It's more a prestige thing with William. He has to have a good address, selling cars like he does. It's all about image. He feels ahh, rooted here. Plus you have to admit we're good tenants. We take care of the place. Keep it looking good."

She gestured to the room with a wave of her arm, the first time her like a wave of surrender. Her toes were nervously flexing when a sandal fell off. She started to slide off the stool to retrieve it. I looked her in the eye and said:

"Leave it. Kick the other one off as well. At least they'll match."

She stared at me, startled by the demand. I held her gaze, and after a brief pause, I heard the thunk of the other sandal dropping on the floor a pregnant sound filling the room. I didn't look down. She suspected, and I knew what her being barefoot meant, the flesh on her cheek bones reddened perhaps a hint of interest on her part. That was the moment when I knew I could have her. Time to lighten up a bit, reward good behavior.

"Billy's just about the best sales person I know, wouldn't you say June?"

She perked up at the complement and returned a graceful, natural smile.

"Well yes, certainly. I think he is!"

"Seriously, now, nobody stays the #1 salesman in good times and bad if they're not really good. But he's right, sales is a lot about self image and self confidence. Lose that...You stop believing in yourself. Well...you know where that ends. And this rent thing. Let me tell you something about my business.

"To begin with this is a historic home. A lot of people might not care for it, old fashioned and such, but to the right person with good taste, like yourself, you recognize it as a treasure. You sense it. Historic houses are a niche market, and this one is a gem. This house does have magic about it. It's endured here in Chester County for almost two hundred and fifty years! Ten generations! Better yet, it's well preserved the modernizations not over bearing. Central heat, plumbing and a decent kitchen, but the old floors doors and woodwork remain.

"Secondly it's a long term rental, and that's worth more than some unsalable Mc Mansion piece of shit, so they are looking to rent it for a few months until they can unload it. So I think you're wrong. That $3,500 a month is still a good price, although I might have to wait a couple of months to get it.

"And as for the desirability of you and Bill as tenants? Surely you realize you're damaged goods? Your income has been going steadily down for at least a year, probably more. You more or less said so, no secret that! I checked your credit score and it's slipped a lot in the last two years. Everybody likes to rent to people who have a rising income; or at the very least, a stable income with a good credit score. If you came to me today, I wouldn't rent it to you. You would barely qualify at $2,500 a month!

"So no! I am not particularly interested in keeping you two as tenants. Sure I'll lose some income when you move out, but I'll have to do that sooner or later anyway. Christ, General Motors is bankrupt! Sure it will eventually turn around, and so will Billy's income, but between now and then maybe you won't be able to afford $2,500 and we'll be having this conversation again. Meanwhile you're behind on the rent."

She was really uncomfortable with this conversation. Her forehead was wrinkled with anguish in her lip trembling a bit as if she was near to tears.

"I understand, Chris. In fact I can't disagree much with what you say that all could happen...to anyone, couldn't it? However it doesn't change our problem. We don't have the money."

Time to be the kind, helpful friend.

"You know what I think? I think Billy had a shitty hand to play today, so he handed you his losing cards and in so doing, threw you under the bus, don't you think?"

"Oh. I...no! What'd you mean! But we've, William and I, we've been over and over the numbers. $2,500 is it! There's that amount of money and no more."

I was looking at those lovely feet. I so wanted to get my hands on them, rub them, and...feel them curl when the orgasm washed over her...

"You have really lovely feet, you know. There's money for pedicures, for your hair...but of course that's peanuts, isn't it. Billy knows, you know, and I know that this property is worth $3,500 a month. You've willingly paid that for a couple of years, and are legally obligated to continue to do so. He certainly knew you didn't want to move...for that matter he didn't want to move either. So he was stuck. You need lower rent, but I don't have any reason to give it to you. He figured that out. Maybe you did too. There was really only one way you might get me to agree to lower the rent, wasn't there."

"Ah well, one way...I don't know. The house...we thought...and the money we have is...well the money we have! What'd you mean?"

"You could pay me in kind. You wouldn't mind that, would you? You have any office skills? Book keeping? Accounting?"

She brightened up, sensing a lifeline.

"I can do books. And basic accounting, sure. What do you need done?"

"Trouble is book keeping pays what? At the very best, $20 an hour...maybe you take home $12 after taxes. Like the pedicures, add it all up and you come up with nothing. It isn't close to $1000 a month. But it's a face saving reason to give Billy when you come over to my place for a few hours each week."

"Well sure...what do you mean 'face saving?'

She paused, looking off in the distance. Her eyes snapped at me as she realized where this was going.

"I'm not going to be working on you books, am I! So what the fuck would I do...Are you suggesting...Well fuck you! No! What in the hell do you think I am? Get out! Right now! Out! Out!"

I sat with knees apart...didn't move. I assumed an 'aw shucks!' posture.

"Sure, sure, calm down! If I leave the house now, you're gonna leave it in a couple weeks as well, I'm just talking here. You know that. Look! Open your eyes! Billy knew damn well I wouldn't cut your rent by a third. The only hope he had was if he tossed you into the deal as well. You're no dummy! He thought you'd figure it out; see it for yourself without him having to spell it out for you.

She was still giving me the stink eye, clearly pissed off royally! Nothing I could do but continue.

"He couldn't just offer me your body and ever look you in the eye again, now could he? He couldn't tell you what you needed to do to close the deal. I may not like him all that much, but I can see the man has his pride, for Christ's sake!

"But you're a strong woman. Brave enough...strong enough to do what needs to be done for your family. You don't want to of course, certainly not your first choice and that's to your credit, it really is, but we both know he'll ignore it as long as you don't rub his nose in it. He wants to...needs to pretend everything's OK. Salesmen are optimists. They need to build their self confidence. Plus there's no reason to stick it in his face. So grow up, woman! Let him keep his pride! No reason for him to know. It comes down to this. You want your family to live here or not?"

She was genuinely shocked. Poor woman! I really don't think she saw it coming. She was shuddering every so often and her breathing became shallower as her anger morphed into self doubt. I realized I needed to shift gears, be a nice guy and less threatening, so I spoke gently, slow and soft.

"Look June. You're strong enough to make this work. It's not the end of the world for anybody. I'm not going to blackmail you, or hurt you, or include others, just you and me. I've liked you from the day I met you. I don't want to marry anyone right now, including you, and I don't run around screwing everything that says yes. I want to have a mistress, you know, a kept woman. Someone that I'm exclusive with. You're a gorgeous woman in her prime. I'm a gentle, uninhibited lover, but I do insist ultimately on a willing partner..."

"What would I have to do?"

Damn, joy of joys! She caved! I've got her! She'll fuck!

"At a minimum once a week you would spend a few hours with me, doing what a man and a woman do. No embarrassment, nothing public. I'm not turned on by pain. You would willingly cooperate with...whatever. You've started already. I asked you to shed the other sandal, and here you sit perched on the stool displaying your lovely feet. I asked you to give me your foot and you did. It'll be more of the same, but higher up of course."

Her nervous smile at the humor dissolved as her lower lip started trembling; I could see she was beginning to lose her composure.

"Look, you've had quite a shock. Go in the bathroom. Wash your face. Spend a few minutes thinking it over. Take your time. I'll wait for you here."

"Thank you Chris!"

She slid off of the chair and fled bare foot around the corner and upstairs. She was putting some distance between us...Well I suppose I would too, in her place.

I picked up the cell phone that she left on the counter and entered the number into my contact list. There was an open wine bottle on the counter, so I found a glass and poured myself a bit. It had gone off, so I rinsed the glass and refilled the glass with water. I moved my chair to the other side of the counter, and stared out the window. It was a lovely view...an old view. Huge white oaks with massive limbs high overhead, lawn merging into meadow down towards the little creek. Can't believe how little I paid for this place seven years ago. I took care of my e mails on my phone while I waited.