tagLoving WivesI Do Only Means Maybe If Your Lucky

I Do Only Means Maybe If Your Lucky

bySlirpuff©

I want to thank the Hip and Knee Doc for all his help in making this story a lot more acceptable than my last ones.

This story should be mandatory reading for all 30+-year-old guys who are even thinking about tying the knot again. The under twenty crowd are still thinking with their little heads, so what I say won't make a whole hell of a lot of difference to them. I only wish I had read and took advise from this before I got married the second time, and maybe I wouldn't be in the mess I'm in right now. In other words, the gals will hate this story and the guys will love it. I hope so anyway.


"You can't be serious, Steve, as there's no way I'm going to sign this," Ann said as she read the first paragraph. "This is a joke right? Who put you up to this? Was it Andy, Bill, whoever did, its not very funny Steve," my fiancée of two years informed me.

"Hon, it's not a joke and I've got no problem with signing it, so why should you?" I asked her as Ann continued reading paragraph after paragraph.

"No one in their right mind would sign this," she yelled. "How about this?" she said pointing to a paragraph on the second page. "It says here, that if I refuse you sex, I'm obligated to pay for someone to have sex with you. Are you completely nuts?"

"But it works both ways hon. If I refuse you, the same applies to me. That's fair isn't it?" I said trying to keep Ann from blowing her cork, though it didn't work.

"You've ruined the damn mood for tonight" she told me. "When you get your head out of your ass, call me," she said while slamming the front door.

"Well, that went well," I said to myself while picking up the papers on the floor and putting them back in order. I knew that she was going to be pissed, and I thought; "better now than later," as I got a Corona from the fridge.

You may think that I'm some kind of an asshole, but all I want is to be happy in my upcoming marriage, that's all. My name's Steve, and the lovely lady that just left in a huff is my fiancée, Ann. We've been together for almost three years and up until ten minutes ago, she was, as she would also call me, my 'soul mate'. I've been thinking about this pre-nup for the last six months, and finally got the nerve, or balls as my friends call it, to actually put it down on paper, with the help of Greg, a lawyer friend of mine.

"Damn it Steve, she's going to hit the ceiling when she reads this," Greg told me. "Can you video her response? I'd love to see it, especially when she gets to sections two and three," he said with a laugh and added, "I only wish I would have had the nerve to do, what you're doing before Peggy and I got married. What happens if Ann refuses to sign it? You've only got ninety days until the wedding?"

"Good question," I replied. "I'm not sure, but I'm leaning towards it being a deal- breaker," I told him. "I've got time, I'll let it slide for a week or two and then bring it up again." So, that's how it started.

As you can probably guess, I've been married before. In truth, it was great at first, but was a complete disaster at the end, but only in my eyes. Carla thought, even to the day I served her with papers, that we had a great marriage. She was in shock when I told her that I'd been planning the end of it for over a year.

You see, my definition of marriage and that of my ex-wife's were totally different. There was the love, honor and obey in our marriage vows, but that lasted only for the first couple of years. Unfortunately, after that, all bets were off.

Carla and I were in lust with each other from the first day we met. If we weren't eating, we were screwing. If we weren't in school, we were in bed; get the picture? We couldn't get enough of each other, even after we were married. After four years of such activity, we had two kids; Danny and Sue; who were; one year apart. Even with two kids, we still found the time to do it four to five times a week. Talk about being in heaven.

At about the eighth year, things started to cool a bit, and by the tenth it was starting to get a little frigid. By year twelve, sex had all but stopped. There was the mercy fuck, or pity sex if I complained long and loud enough, but it was quick and to the point; get me off without breaking a sweat. I tried talking to her, suggested a marriage counselor and even threatened divorce, but nothing made any difference. The straw that broke the camels back was when I came home one day to twin beds in our bedroom.

"No way," I yelled, as I threw one mattress out the window, as Carla tried to get me to settle down. "I'll start the stinking paperwork tomorrow and in three months we'll be divorced," I told her as the box spring followed the mattress out the window. "I'll have Greg start the paperwork and you'll have it by Thursday," I said stomping down the stairs as my kids wondered what the hell was going on. "Sorry kids. Your mother pushed me over the edge this time," I said almost running out to my car. I had to get the hell away from her before I did something I'd regret.

"What a bitch," I said to myself as I washed down the peanuts with my fifth beer. "I've given her everything and I guess that wasn't enough," I thought as I finished number five and motioned the bartender for number six. "I should have put my foot down years ago, so it's my own damn fault," I told myself as I took a swig of number six.

I think that I had eight or nine beers, but I'm not sure. All I know is that I must have handed Greg's business card to the cab driver, because that's where I woke up the following morning, with the worst hangover of my life.

"I guess there really is life after death," Greg said as he handed me a cup of black coffee. "I found you on my doorstep at 1:30 this morning." "Peggy and I got you as far as the couch, but in your condition, the floor would have been just as good," he said with a laugh. "You want to tell me what brought you to this point?"

"Is Peggy around?" I asked.

"No, she's upstairs getting the baby ready. Why?" he replied.

"Carla surprised me with twin beds last night. I guess I went a little crazy and threw one of them out the window," I told Greg through my haze. "Things have gotten downright cold in the bedroom and this was the last straw. I completely snapped," I said taking a sip of coffee. "I need you to draw up divorce papers as soon as possible. I'm going to take care of the rest of my stuff today and want her served tomorrow if possible. She can have the house until the kids turn 18, and we'll split everything else 50/50. I just want it done and over," I told him.

"Easy Steve. Don't you want to think about this a little? Maybe you're still a little drunk from last night?" he asked me. "At least, talk to Carla. You've got nothing to lose, do you?"

"I've tried, that for the last couple of years and have gotten nowhere. I'm tired of fighting. She's got her job, her country club membership, her friends, and a nice house. What more does she need? Not me, that's for sure. I take care of the kids 80% of the time because she's off doing what's important to her, which leaves me out in the cold. No more. Just do the paperwork, have her served, and we'll let the chips fall where they may," I said putting on my shoes.

"All right, but your going to take a financial beating," Greg told me. "You're looking at a minimum of 25 to 30% in child support plus expenses. Steve, we're probably talking about somewhere in the area of 35% of your net income being taken out until the kids turn 18, and that doesn't include if they go to college."

"I'd pay twice that amount to be happy again, because right now I'm absolutely miserable. The kids and I will cope with the divorce and Carla can go to hell for all I care," I said standing up for the first time. "If I can steal another cup of coffee, I'll be out of your hair. I've got to get my ass in gear, because I've got a lot to do today." I thanked him for the use of his couch and told him to call me on my cell when it was done.

I called work and told them that I needed a couple of days off to take care of a personal matter. I changed my withholdings and took Carla off my life and health insurance policies. I cancelled all our joint credit cards and went to the bank and took out 50% of both our savings and checking accounts. We both had cars that were paid off, so I figured we'd each just keep our own. I was having a late lunch, when I realized that I'd turned off my cell phone last night. "Damn," Carla had filled up my mailbox with messages. At least now I know how messages it takes to fill up a voice mail account; fifty-three. "Screw her," I thought as I started to delete them all without listening to one.

My next stop was the apartment complex a block from where I worked. The apartments weren't anything great, but at least they were cheap and cheap was what I was looking for. However, they asked for "five and a quarter for a furnished one bedroom." I was a little shocked. That was double what I had paid for my last apartment, but that was many years ago. I signed a lease on a month-to-month basis. It was a little more than I wanted to pay, but I wanted to leave my options open as soon as possible.

Now came the hard part. I had to sneak home and grab some clothes for work tomorrow, and I didn't have a clue where Carla was. "Damn I can't win," I said to myself as I drove past my house and saw her car in the driveway. "There's no way I want to get into an argument with her before she's served tomorrow," I thought, so I went to J. C Penney and bought a change of clothes. I finally had dinner at about 7:30 that night, and then checked into the Day's Inn. Unfortunately, I tossed and turned for the rest of the night. Was I making the right decision? I think I was.

The next morning I had another thirty-five messages from Carla, which I erased, and one from Greg, that I listened to. "The paperwork is done. Carla is going to be served about 9:30 this morning at work, and Peggy thinks you're an ass. Good luck, because you're going to need it. Call me if you need anything else," he told me. So it began.

It was about 2:00 in the afternoon when I heard, "Do you hate me that much Steve?" I looked up and saw Carla standing in front of my desk.

"No Carla, I don't hate you. I'm just tired of being unhappy. That's all," I replied.

"All this because of twin beds? If it's that big of a deal, we'll go back to our old bed," she said like she was placating one of the kids.

"You still don't get it do you? Look Carla, this isn't the time or place to air out our dirty laundry. I'll meet you at the house after work and we can talk for, whatever that's worth," I told her. "Anyway, I want to see the kids and I need to pickup a few changes of clothes. I'll see you about six," I told her.

"I'll have dinner waiting for you. See you tonight. Just remember, I still love you," she said and walked out.

At 6:05, I pulled into the driveway. My kids came out to greet me and asked, "What the heck was going on dad, are you and mom getting a divorce?" I wasn't about to discuss it with them on the driveway, so I just told them that their mom and I were having problems.

Dinner was unusually quiet and after the dishes were cleared, Carla told the kids to go upstairs, "Your dad and I need to talk in private," she told them. They gave me a big hug, told me that they loved me, and walked sadly upstairs to their bedrooms.

"Good kids," I said out loud. "I never wanted to hurt them," I said softly so they couldn't hear.

"How about me Steve, you just want to hurt me? Are you ready to throw away twelve plus years of marriage without even talking to me?" she asked.

"I've tried to talk to you Carla, God knows I've tried, but you just wouldn't listen or you didn't care enough about us to try and work out our problems," I told her. "Why the hell would you bring in twin beds without talking to me about it?"

"Well, you toss and turn a lot at night and your snoring has gotten worse" she replied. "And our bed was old and worn out, so I thought it might be nice to have a new bed."

"Beds, beds, Carla not bed," I shouted a bit. "But the amount of action that bed has seen in the last couple of years, I can't image how we'd ever wear it out," I said staring at her. "Hell Carla, I was probably tossing and turning because I had D.S.B. most of the time," I told her.

"D.S.B?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face.

"You know, deadly semen backup," I told her. "Also, I need to know how long you've been cheating on me?" I asked a flabbergasted Carla.

"What?" she screamed. "How can you accuse me of cheating?" she yelled. "I love you, and I'd never cheat on you. I don't understand how you think I could do something so low?"

"Well, I figured you were getting your needs satisfied somewhere else, because you're sure as hell not getting it from me anymore," I told her.

"We make love all the time Steve. How can you say that?"

"Carla, we haven't made love in years, and the sex we've had lately has been pretty pitiful at best," I told her. "The last time was about a month ago, and I basically used your body to masturbate myself. However, oh yes, I do remember you did move a bit. Oh I'm sorry, that was you breathing wasn't it?" I said sarcastically. "Carla we have had no sex life for a long time and I can't live that way any longer."

"Well, if it's just sex you want, why didn't you just ask? I can do that," she said.

"I don't want sex from you. I can go downtown and have sex with some whore. I want to make love with you, like we used to. But you really don't miss it anymore, do you?" I asked.

"We're just so busy with work, the kids, and our activities. There's never seems to be enough time," she told me.

"You haven't had enough time to tell your husband you love him, and not enough time to make love with the man who loves you more than anything on earth, but I guess there is enough time for the country club and all the volunteer work you do. I hope it was all worth it," I said as I got another beer. "I've already split up our finances, cancelled our credit cards, and I'm in the process of finalizing the rest." "I've already put Greg on a retainer, so you'll have to find yourself another attorney," I told her.

"Steve, don't you want to even try?" she asked.

"What's the point, Carla? Are you ready to change? I doubt that very much. If this was last year, or even six months ago, I might have given it a shot, but the twin beds were the final straw."

"Steve, the old bed is back in our room," she said sounding desperate. "I don't want a divorce. We can go to counseling. I know I can change," she pleaded.

I thought for a minute as I looked at a now tearful Carla. "All right, here's my deal. I have an apartment by work for the next month. You set up the counseling sessions and we'll go as often as you want. If we're making progress, after a month, I'll move back in, and we'll try again. If not, I'll file the divorce papers," I told her. "We'll have dinner two nights a week as a family, and still do the things together we've always done. I'm willing to give it one more shot, but I need you on board 100% of the time, if this has any chance of working," I told Carla.

"Yes, anything you want," she told me. "I love you Steve, I guess I got my priorities kind of screwed up. The kids will be happy we're not splitting up also. They've been really depressed since you left. I'll get everything setup tomorrow. I'll show you how much you mean to me," she said, now smiling.

For once, Carla backed up her talk with actions. She became the loving wife of old, at least on the outside. We talked, and I mean really talked about how we'd drifted apart and for the first time ever, she told me that lately, sex with me had gotten boring.

"Boring, fucking boring?" I yelled. "Why in the hell didn't you say something? Am I supposed to be a stinking mind reader?" I said in one of our sessions. "I tried to bring in a few things to spice it up, but you shot me down every time I did. You still got off, didn't you?" I asked. "You had to have, or you're the best damn actress on the planet," I shouted out loud.

"I didn't say I never climaxed. It's just that we did it the same way almost every time," she told the counselor and me. "Maybe we could spice it up a little?"

We were making progress and after three weeks, I decided to move back home the following Saturday. I did mention that it was on a trial basis only, but all she heard was that I was moving back. We hadn't even attempted sex for the last three weeks, but did talk about it a lot. "Maybe, I've got the old Carla back," I thought as I moved the last of my clothes back into the closet. I could only hope so.

Saturday night, I was too whipped to do anything more than take a shower and climb into bed, but Carla did spoon with me until I fell asleep. Sunday morning she greeted me with a kiss and asked if I wanted to fool around. "Fool around? No. I wanted to do some serious banging though," I whispered to her. And that's what we did.

It was hot and heavy, but very quiet, so we didn't wake up the kids. I ate her, while she stroked me to get my dick good and hard. I knew, even with all the jacking off over the past couple of weeks, that I wasn't going to last long, so I climbed aboard and started with long, slow, and deliberate strokes.

Carla lay there with her eyes closed moaning and pushing up to meet my every stroke. On every other stroke, I'd reach down and rub her clit, fully knowing that I wasn't going to last much longer.

"Oh God," I yelled as I started dropping my loads into her as I feverishly pounded her pussy and all the while working her clit.

"Yes, yes, yes, don't stop," Carla shouted, as I finished and continued to work on her and I was still rock-hard and inside her cunt. It didn't take more than thirty seconds of work, before I felt her climax. "Oh Christ," she yelled as she wrapped her legs around me and ground her pussy onto my dick. She kept it up for another minute before releasing me.

"That was nice," she said while smiling up at me.

"I agree. It's been too long since we've done this," I replied. "But we're not done yet," I told her as I went to work on her pussy with my tongue. I'm not one for cream pies, including my own, but I had to make a point. I'd be willing to do anything to get our sex- life back on track.

Holy be Jesus, I must have shot a gallon of sperm up her snatch, as I watched it ooze out of her as I licked her clit and fingered her cunt. It took longer than I thought it would, but I got Carla off a second time. Her second climax wasn't as intense as her first, but I think she enjoyed it, if her moaning was any indication. We showered together, and I made pancakes and sausages for breakfast. We spent the day doing family things, mostly shopping, and I figured Carla and I had turned the corner in our relationship.

For the next year, we were a whole hell of a lot better. It wasn't like we were newlyweds again, but it wasn't like we had been for the past three years either. I was more attentive to her needs, and gave her "more space," something that she'd requested. Then it started again.

It was such a slow progression that I didn't realize it until it was too late. Carla had just turned me down again, for the second time this week; something about menstrual cramps and I had let it slide. It didn't hit me until days later, that she'd had her period two weeks earlier; or that's what she'd said when she had refused me at that time. I guess Carla figured that she'd done her duty for the last year, and we were going back to her calling the shots again. Well not this time.

So, I let it slide. I didn't pressure her for sex and decided to wait until she came to me. At eight weeks, I made my move. Carla had just informed me that there would be no nookie tonight because she had a headache. That's when I put my plan into action. She had just come out of the bathroom, dressed from head to foot in a cotton nightgown, and was climbing into bed, when she saw me hang up the phone.

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bySlirpuff© 66 comments/ 87340 views/ 15 favorites

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