Meeting the Master Ch. 01

I didn't complain when Ruth took her phone outside to call the asshole in private. Whatever they were talking about, at this point I honestly didn't give a flying fuck. Besides, hearing my wedded wife grovelling before some whoremonger would probably have caused me to blow my stack. So I sat calmly back and waited till she was done. It took her almost half an hour to set up the arrangements.

"We are both cordially invited to enjoy the hospitality of Master next Friday Steve. I took the liberty of accepting on both our behalf. He will expect us around lunch time and he hope we will extend our stay to the entire weekend."

I rose from the chair and bowed in mock reverence.

"I graciously accept the mighty Master's generous hospitality and am looking forward to making his acquaintance."

After that I simply left without acknowledging her obvious discomfort at the implied insult, intending to go for a long walk in order to blow off some more steam. The sheer audacity of the guy in combination with Ruth's poorly veiled reverence of him had again heated my piss to a boil and I don't know if I could have prevented myself from hurting her badly if I had stayed.

And my dad did not raise a wife-beater.

**********

The next couple of days were probably awkward for Ruth. I don't know what she had expected of me, but I was acting as if nothing had happened and was deliberately ignoring the elephant... no T-REX in the room.

I didn't ask her any further questions about her double life and never mentioned her pimp. Nor did I move out of my bedroom or make other changes to our marital status.

I honestly didn't see a reason to. I had done nothing to cause our current crisis. So why should I have to change my ways or miss out on the carnal perks of my marriage? I needed regular sex, and in the absence of a faithful wife a whore would go a long way to fill the gap. I fucked myself to sleep every night and even tried a few new things I had thought about before, but never gotten around to do. I no longer bothered asking or approaching Ruth tentatively any more, but simply took her whenever I felt the urge. She was on a guilt trip and I knew she wouldn't dare protest.

On the inside though, EVERYTHING had changed. Ruth had betrayed me in the worst possible way - not once or twice, but continuously through our entire friggin marriage - and apart from anger and humiliation I felt nothing but numbness. Who WAS this woman? She looked like my Ruthie, acted like my Ruthie and sounded like my Ruthie, but she was like a stranger to me. I thought we had shared everything for two decades but as it turned out we had shared next to nothing. It had all been an act!

I tried consoling myself with the fact, that I was basically playing house with a classy and beautiful call girl, including liberal access to the full range of her services at no charge. Not a bad deal if you think about it. And as a bonus, she even cooked for me.

A call girl, however, who ALSO happened to be the mother of my two kids, but for now I simply couldn't deal with that issue. The kids were staying at my parent's farm for the summer - thank God for the fortunate timing - and whatever I was going to do would be done long before they were due back.

But what if I wasn't their real father?

What if I had unknowingly been raising the whoremonger's children?

Or the kids of one of her Johns?

No, I didn't want to go there now. A DNA test was definitely in the cards, but regardless of the outcome the kids were mine by right of association. I was the one who had read them stories. I had taken them camping. I held their hands all night when they were sick. I celebrated their birthdays. I was the one who had followed them to school, taught them good values and loved them through all their young lives.

Both kids were in their upper teens and in a relatively short time they would be legal adults. Callie would be eighteen in three years and Josh in four, after which the decision about where and how they wanted to live would rest solely in their own hands. But if anybody tried to get at them, they would have to step over my dead body. I would DESTROY Ruth before I allowed her to drive a wedge between my kids and me, and she knew me well enough to be aware of that danger. A DNA test would constitute crucial evidence in a potential lawsuit against the biological father for fraud and maybe recovery of back child-support, but nothing more. He would never be their dad or be allowed anywhere near them while I had breath left in my body.

What may surprise some was, that I seriously considered remaining in my marriage. And why the hell not? As mentioned already, Ruth was beautiful, a great wife in every way, a loving and caring person and we had twenty years of history to prove that we were good together. I was pissed at her for playing me, but before I found out about it I was happy and content.

Maybe I could fall in love with this new Ruth? I had fallen for the old one after all, and she was still essentially the same person. So what, if she had been a working girl? We all have a past. And her experience was a welcome boost in the bedroom.

But one thing was certain; without trust and loyalty there could never be any true love. I do NOT share - period - and I wanted her a hundred percent or not at all. That was a condition on which no compromise would be made on my part. Shit or get off the pot. My future would definitely not be spent with Ruth Masters, but I might end up falling in love and growing old with Lou-Anne Darnell, if she still existed somewhere in that addled brain of hers.

Oh yes, she would have to change her name back of course. I wasn't going to allow a single trace of her pimp to stain our renewed marriage, if we were to continue as a couple. Ruth probably didn't realize it, but I WAS going to make her choose. And ANY hesitation on her part - even a short doubting glance - would be a default vote for the pimp. Which in turn would be the launch code for flushing my sham-marriage down the toilet and initiating my revenge on the puppeteer who pulled her strings.

Those were my final thoughts as I slowly drifted off to sleep with the head of my unfaithful wife resting on my shoulder and my wet cock in a state of total drainage after an hour of great sex.

The coming weekend would be the turning point where the fate of my marriage would be decided. Whether it would end up being a polite palaver or an all-consuming apocalypse I did not know. But changes were a-coming; of that I was certain.

Everything would be dragged out in the open, all scores would be settled and every debt would be paid in full.

Next Friday.

When we were meeting the Master.