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She leaned forward, looked straight at me, and kept talking with absolute certainty. "You're right. I'm like the alcoholic who had to destroy his marriage to learn to stay on the wagon. But, our marriage is not destroyed yet. I sure as hell tried to destroy it, baby, I sure did my damnedest, to destroy it! And you, baby -- patient, strong, understanding, tough -- you alone -- saved it. You stayed with me through that whole damn nightmare. You didn't abandon me when I played the whore. You stayed with me when I laughed at you. I thought I was laughing at something less than a man -- but I was laughing at a man rock hard enough to take everything that bastard could dish out and stay with me. You stayed and took that laughter. You stayed and suffered because you loved me. You stayed and took care of me when I got sick. You stayed and protected me, and lied for me, and kept our friends respecting me. There's not a man in this world that could have, or would have, done what you did. You're the strongest, bravest man I've ever known. You're a rock hard man. You fixed everything bad I did. Now, God dammit, you're not going to destroy our marriage with some crazy idea. Can't fuck me because you love me? That's bullshit! You're the one who needs help now."
I just sat there looking at her. She was as angry as she used to get before she met Bill. She sounded like she used to sound when she was really mad, and like she knew exactly what she was talking about. She had figured out the difference between me and that bastard. The difference between a man and a big dick. She understood what her fetish had done to her and now she had a way to make that big dick vanish from her mind. She seemed strong. If it wasn't the old Lynn, it was a damn good imitation. Somehow, I felt she was taking charge of our lives. I felt weak. I couldn't fight any more. I let myself go for the first time in a year. I listened to her.
"Tomorrow, you're going to Vegas. Take all the time you need and lots of extra cash. Get laid! Get laid a lot! Find out that you can still get it up. Find out that you can still fuck. And baby, I know you can, if the beaver is hairy enough. That's what you married me for. When you've had enough pussy, all the pussy you want, all the pussy you can handle, if you want to come back and tell me about it I swear I'll laugh with you. God, you have no idea how much I'll enjoy you telling me about getting laid. How many times have you heard me say it? 'All men are bastards -- the only thing they think about is pussy.' You're a man, baby, and a big, strong, rock-hard man, so start thinking like one! You fucked that redheaded bitch and didn't love her. You just used her. Well use some more women! Just fuck 'em! The guys in this town would envy you -- they would flat-out envy you, if they found out what you can do now! After what I've done to you baby, you can fuck every horny bitch who spreads her legs for you, and you'll know that the only thing I can do about it is smile and try harder to please you. I love you! I worship you! You're a man, baby, you're my man, you saved me, and now you own me -- you own all of me."
"So don't tell me you can't fuck me because you love me. That's bullshit! Get laid! Who the hell am I to tell you can't get laid when you need it? And baby, you need it, believe me, trust me, you really do need it, right now! And, when you know you can fuck again, then you can decide if you want to come back to me. And if you do come back to me, I promise you -- I absolutely promise you -- I'll be waiting with all the love and all the private, user-friendly pussy you're ready to handle. We can make this damn thing work baby, if you still want me. I love you. And Bobby, believe me, I know now -- I really do know now - that a real man is measured by a hell of a lot more things than his dick. I love you. I don't deserve you. But I love you, and I don't -- I really don't - love that bastard's dick anymore."
******
I had helped her and now she had helped me. It took a surprisingly short time, but I got well. I kept getting better and our sex kept getting better. Then late one night, not long after I got back from Vegas, we found out that both of us had been cured. We had had a wonderful evening together and as we made love, I heard a sound that I thought I never ever wanted to hear again. It started softly, rhythmically, and then built in volume and intensity. It was that rhythmic, animal, grunting that caused me such horrible pain last year -- only, this time Lynn was under me, lifting and pumping up to me, arching her back to me, her face a mask of pleasure and lust because of me. And when those animal sounds suddenly stopped, and her whole body started to tremble, and those rhythmic contractions started grabbing my cock, I was rewarded by a feeling I had never before experienced, but knew I would experience again and again -- that explosive orgasm which I had all too often seen, but never before that very moment felt. Lynn had discovered, that there was more than one way to measure a man.
- COMMENTS
BigDee4426 days agoFor me, a 5. Many similarities to my real life story. Many differences, too, but I feel a little better about my choices after reading this. I will not be experiencing the ending, however.
Sexecclectic6 months agoI liked your writing style LynnGKS. I enjoy a good cuckold story. Sometimes even taking it to the extreme is fun if well executed. This story wasn’t much fun, but my imagination stops when a story becomes unbelievable. It’s hard for me to imagine any man taking the verbal abuse Bill gave him without standing up for himself. In my experience most guys are pretty polite when you let them use your woman. Admittedly there’s a wide range of experiences, this one is just hard to digest. But it does get a lot of positive feedback. That’s cool
Anonymousabout 1 year agoThat was a nice and good well written story.
I was surprised there wasn't the shortcut of buying big rubber dicks.
AnotherChapterover 1 year agoThe story leaves one with a conundrum. Who was the most evil character in the tale. Was it the wonton wife for whom carefully constructed psychobabble excuses were proffered? Was it the supposed friend who gleefully and maliciously invaded the sanctuary of their marriage with the premeditated design to conquer, humiliate, and lay waste to the man who was supposedly his friend? Or was it Bobby, the gutless husband who contrived excuses to allow himself the position of empathetic bystander to the utter abasement & destruction of his life. Let me preface this next statement by saying that I reject violence as an appropriate avenue for solving marital dysfunction. What was missing from this piece were either a pistol, a nine inch butcher’s knife, a baseball bat, or a garrotte. The only question is who was truly worthy to be found on the receiving end of the justice they could meet out.
Anonymousalmost 2 years agoIt's funny how Bobby thinks a scandal would destroy a marriage but her having sex with his best friend wouldn't.
