A Husband for Valentine's DaybyDOMann1959©
Authors note: Although this a sequel to the story "A Wife For Christmas," it is a standalone story and the reader will be able to understand the context without reading the first. This is a Valentine's day contest submission, so please vote. I also look forward to reading your comments. Thank you and I hope you enjoy reading...
Thursday 9 February
Lisa Hamilton hung up the phone with a sigh of relief. At least she had accomplished that much, she thought. It was only five days until Valentine's Day and she had worried that she wouldn't be able to contact the people in time. The staff of the Starlight Club seemed to keep their own hours and weren't easy to get a hold of. She had been trying for the last week and a half to contact them without success, but now she finally had gotten through and the reservations were made. She hoped it was enough.
One question, she thought. That's all it took was one question and everything went downhill from there. All she had done was ask him what he wanted for Christmas. Was that such a bad thing to ask? But when she had pried the answer from him, it wasn't good, "I want my wife back," he had said. What did that mean? She was his wife and she was right there. But as he went on through his speech, she began to understand some. He wanted her to be someone she wasn't anymore. Someone she might have been a couple of decades ago, but couldn't be now. She had changed over the years. So had he.
It was just after that day in early December that things started to go wrong. He cleared off the old desk and set it up as a work place. He started bringing work home and spending every evening at that desk. At first, that was fine. He was out of her way as she went from one room to another and back again getting things done that she wanted to do. But as time went on, she began to notice a difference. It was like he had checked out of the marriage altogether and they were just two people who live in the same house and slept in the same bed. Although they did take time to have sex once in a while, it hadn't any passion.
How many times had they done that since that question had been asked? Four? Five maybe? And she had to admit that it wasn't all that hot or passionate. He initiated, she allowed him access, he played then gave her oral sex, bringing her to orgasm several times before he would finally make his way up her body to put his member inside her, set up a nice rhythm and bring her to a few more orgasms until he had to pull out and shoot his semen on her belly so that it wouldn't be leaking out of her all night into her panties. All that and she wouldn't even touch him. And reciprocate the oral componant? She had never done that. Never could. Not ever.
Strange. Now that she thought of it, sex was not one of the things that he had listed in his speech. Did that mean he felt that things were okay in the bedroom? Surely not. When had been the last time she touched him? She couldn't remember. Was that another symptom of what was wrong in their marriage?
She looked back to before the bad times and wondered if they were so good. She could see where he tried to do things to add a little heat to their relationship. Things she had ignored and taken for granted. She gulped. Could he have been.....right?
She hated to admit that thought. In her mind, she knew that no one was ever wrong all the time just as no one was ever right all the time, but she had gotten use to thinking of him as being wrong. But if no one was ever wrong all the time, why did she hate the idea that he might be....right? That had been one of his complaints, she realized. She no longer valued his opinion but thought that everything he thought, said, and done was wrong, wrong, and wrong. Could it be that he was...right about that?
She thought about that movie they watched. The original story said that the father hated his son because his mother died giving birth to him. But he had said that in this version, the boy was the oldest of two. She had disagreed and backed the film up to show him. When she found that he was right, she didn't even acknowledge it. If it had been that she was right, she would have berated him no end and made him apologize.
She thought about it and decided he was... right. She had devalued any thought he had had and voiced. She had devalued any actions he took. Their marriage wasn't what it was supposed to be and he had seen it first tried to do something about it and she had seemed not to care as long as he was out of her way. Which meant that he was right. This time, she didn't hesitate when she thought of that fact.
If he was right about that, she wondered what else might he have been right about? She got up and found a piece of paper and a pen then sat at the table to try to figure it out. She couldn't remember everything he said that day, but maybe she could think of the big ones.
There was something about food, wasn't there? Yes, he said that she should already be making it or give suggestions instead of telling him whatever he get off his duff and effing make, when she knew he couldn't cook. Yeah, well he could make a sandwich, couldn't he? And besides she didn't talk like that! She didn't use the "F" word.
She was holding herself stiff, arrogant, angry at the thought. She took note of it and her body deflated as she realized she did talk like that and mostly to her husband. Except in the bedroom. They didn't fuck , and she thought out the whole word as she formulated the thought, they had sex. She didn't even think of it as making love! That definitely needed to change! She decided the next time they did it she would think of it as fucking. Even with that, she would be adding in some of the emotion of love. She wrote on the paper "fuck better."
Back to the food part, she thought. Was he right about that? She remembered the time he tried to heat up some leftovers while she was gone. He put it in the microwave and set it for one minute. When the food was still cold, he tried two minutes. Then, although the food was steaming, he found a cold spot in the middle and tried three minutes. She had arrived home just before the food exploded. She laughed to herself. Yes, it was true he was hopeless in the kitchen and dinner was supposed to be more than just a cold sandwich. That meant that he was right again. She wrote on the paper "fix dinner."
What else? She thought. The movie thing. He had said that she should wait to go see the movie with him instead of going with Crystal and her husband leaving him in charge of babysitting. But what did it matter who she saw the thing with? She had told Billy their grandson to let him know. It wasn't her fault the now eight year old had waited an hour before doing so.
What if it had been he that went without her and she hadn't found out until an hour later? She knew she would have reamed his ass good for not telling her. And who would he have gone with? She had to concede that she saw his point. She turned back to the paper and wrote "movies are for dating husband, not daughter."
She thought that those were probably the big concerns. Two that he had mentioned and one she had added. Wait, she thought. There was the one that she thought of that started the process. She wrote down "value opinions and ideas." Now she thought she had something to start with. Looking at it she realized that she was going to have to change a lot. She would have to do things that she wasn't used to doing or had done. And she would have to spend some money. But now, she was determined to win her husband back and she was going to do it by Valentine's Day. She picked up her phone again to call Crystal to see if she would go shopping with her.
Bryce Hamilton sat at his desk working on his computer. At least to the casual passerby it would look that way. In reality, he was playing solitaire. It wasn't because he had no work to do, but if he did it, he wouldn't have anything to take home with him, For the last two months he had been doing such. At one point he was so bored with it that he even cleaned up all his files. Now he was reduced to playing games to pass the time. He looked up when he heard a small sound and found Charles Fremont standing at his desk.
"What's up, Chuck?" Bryce asked.
Charles winced at the name. "That's really getting old, Bryce." he said.
The man thought for a few seconds before responding. "Oh. You mean the upchuck joke. I wasn't thinking. I really was just meaning to ask you what was going on." Then with a grin he added, "Sorry, Charlie."
"There you go again. I'm not a tuna," Charles groaned thinking of the old Star-Kist commercials.
"Well, no one would accuse you of having good taste anyway," Bryce quipped remembering how the commercials said that they wanted tuna that tasted good not tuna with good taste.
Charles glared at him. "Do you have to do this?"
"Sometimes the jokes are all that keeps me going, man. With Lisa practically ignoring me and all that, I really need the laughs. Sometimes it feels like even the house doesn't welcome me."
"So why don't you divorce her ass? I'm sure I would have kicked her to the curb by now."
"If I did that, I'd still have all the rest of her to deal with and to tell the truth, I kinda like her ass where it is." Charles groaned. "Seriously, Charles. I don't want a divorce. Anytime that happens there's always a big fight about who gets what and in the end neither of them get anything because it all goes to the lawyers, as you well know. On top of that, there's the added expense of an apartment and when it's all over, everybody is so drained they don't know which way is up. add to that the fact that the kids then have to figure out who they're going to see on which holidays and it just isn't worth it. Lastly, and this is the big one, I still Love her."
"I bet you even got her a Valentine's Day present, didn't you?"
Yes. I did. It's a necklace shaped like a heart with diamond chips all around it."
"That's what I thought. Alright, Bryce. Whatever you want. But my advice is still the same."
"Maybe that's why you've been divorced five times, my friend."
"But I've been married six."
"That just means we know who the sixth ex Mrs. Fremont is."
"Not this time, Bryce. We're making it work."
"For now," Bryce said. "Then when it stops working, you'll be gone again."
"Nope." Charles replies. "We're both totally dedicated to making this work. We've even gotten help to do that."
"What do you mean?"
"We're seeing a marriage counselor. He helps us with issues of trust and honesty. He also helps us see things from the other's perspective."
"Well, good for you, Charlie."
"Still not a tuna, old boy."
"Speaking of tuna, do you know how to tuna fish?"
Charles gave a long sigh, "With a tuning fork," he groaned. "Can we stop now?"
"Okay," Bryce agreed almost complaining. "What did you need anyway?"
"You cleaned up your files a few weeks ago."
"Well, mine are in pretty bad shape, too."
"So clean them out."
"Well, I was hoping that I could talk you into doing that for me?"
"No can do, Charles, with my files I have the advantage of knowing my clients so I know what was needed and what wasn't. I wouldn't know about yours. I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Alright," Charles conceded. "I had to try. I better get back to work before the boss comes out and sees me talking to you."
"One more thing, Charles why don't you get your hair cut so that it's really tight on the sides and bald on top?"
"That way we can look at you and recognize you as Charles Winchester III from the T.V. Series M*A*S*H." Bryce turned back to his computer with a slight smile, letting his friend groan again as he walked away and once again started playing solitaire to pass the time until it was time to go home.
Except for the furnace starting up once in a while, the house was quiet. There was no one there to make noise and it seemed that everything was just waiting for someone to return. It was near five o-clock when a key was inserted into the lock and turned. Lisa held to outer door for her daughter, Crystal Stoughton, to enter then followed her in. Both women had a lot of bags that they were carrying from quite a few different stores, including Victoria's Secret.
"I don't know about this, Mom," Crystal said as she stepped in, "This seems like an awful lot of money to spend on this project. I think I would just have divorced him. Who's he cheating on you with anyway? Do you know?"
"Who said he was cheating?" Lisa asked quickly. "Do you know something I don't?"
"No, Mom. But you said you had to win him back. Didn't you mean you were doing so from someone?"
"No, baby. I didn't mean that. As far as I know, he isn't with anyone else. It's just that he hasn't really been involved with our marriage lately, and I want to change that."
"Yeah, I've seen the way he's been acting. You know I would support you if you wanted to kick his ass to the curb."
"Why do you have so much animosity for him?"
"It's like you said, Mom. He's always fu, uh, messing up. Now he's messing up your marriage."
Lisa cringed as her daughter said the words messing up. "That's not true, Crystal. And it's my fault that everyone seems to think that way. But, I had to admit that I was wrong this morning. He saw that our marriage was in trouble long before I did and he tried to move it back on track. I didn't even see it. I just ignored it because I was too caught up in what was going on in my own life. Your father is a wonderful man and I nearly threw him away because I wouldn't listen to him. That's my mistake and now I have to try to fix it."
"Really? He saw it first?"
"Yes, Crystal. Your father has quite a bit of smarts."
"Wow. I guess I'll have to listen to him a little better."
"You do that. But right now, you need to go so I can change and start dinner going. And don't forget, you have to have Ray take you to the movies tomorrow."
"No, problem, Mom. I'll let you know what time we'll be dropping off the kids."
Bryce entered his drive way and parked in his usual spot. As he made his way to the door, he didn't notice that the branch of the rose bush wasn't sticking out where he had to gently push it out of the way as usual. But he did notice that the door didn't stick and scrape when he opened it. He raised his eye brows in surprise. Maybe the cold air made the wood contract thus allowing the door to work properly, he thought. But then, why had it still stuck in January? He shrugged his shoulders and went into the house. There, he found another surprise. He could smell something cooking in the kitchen. "Lisa?"
"In the kitchen, dear." she answered.
Bryce sat his briefcase down by his desk and went into the kitchen. There he found his wife at the stove browning hamburger in a pot. She was wearing a white blouse and a tight gray skirt that he couldn't see any panty line showing in. As she turned, he glanced at her chest. He was sure that she didn't have her D-cup boobs in a bra as the nipples made an appearance hardened by the bare tits rubbing against the blouse.
"Hey, sweetie. Kind of cold outside, isn't it?" Lisa began. "I thought it would be a good day for chili. I hope that's alright with you. I'm making garlic bread to go with it, too."
"It sounds great, dear."
"It will be awhile yet. You have time to get a shower if you want."
"I think that would be a good idea, too." Bryce said wondering just what was going on. Then just as he turned to access the hall, Lisa leaned in and gave him a kiss. The action surprised him, but he kept quiet, still unsure of what was happening and feeling her tits against his chest.
Lisa turned back to the stove as Bryce left the kitchen. Come to think of it, she thought, the kissing was one of his complaints. She would always kiss him when he went off to work, but not when he came back. Well, that would change. Or rather it just had, she realized as she mentally, added "kiss when he come home" to the list that was hidden in her wallet.
In the shower, Bryce thought about what had just happened. It worried him. Who had she dressed up for but didn't wear a bra? Could it be she was cheating? His hand went down and squeezed his rapidly growing member as he thought of some guy pawing at his wife's tits. For some reason, he pictured Charles in the role of her extra-marital lover. Perhaps because he knew that it couldn't be him since he didn't leave work until the same time as he did. He began tugging on his cock as it reached its full eight and a half inches while imagining his friend lifting that gray skirt to expose Lisa's delectable ass. He was fully jerking on his rod as he thought of him pushing his cock into her pussy from behind. His moan matched the one she gave as she pushed back onto her lover's cock in his mind. Her blouse came open for the imagined lover to squeeze her tits, the nipples sticking out like bullets. And as Charles emptied himself inside her quivering quim, Bryce shot his own load onto the floor of the tub where the spraying water could wash it down the drain.
Afterwards, he admonished himself for being so perverted. He had just cum imagining his friend fucking his wife. Two emotions ran through his mind. Jealousy that his wife might be cheating on him, and anger that he had found the idea arousing. But it had been the sight of her unbound tits in that blouse, the nipples pushing at the fabric that had first got him going. Maybe it wasn't the idea of someone fucking her after all.
"Could you set the table, love?" Lisa asked as Bryce came back into the kitchen.
She wanted to eat at the table? That was different. He went to the cabinet and tentively pulled on the handle that would open the door. It swung freely and again he wondered at what was happening with the house that things seemed to be working right. After putting out plates and bowls, he opened the drawer where the flatware was. His face was cringed in anticipation but the look changed to one of surprise when the usual squall didn't sound.
The meal was nice. They talked of mundane things while they ate, something they hadn't done in quite a while. But in the back of his mind, Bryce had to wonder why she was doing all this. He considered the possibility that she might be getting ready to divorce him. Charles' second wife, Barbara, had been extra nice to him just before dropping that bomb shell on him. Could it be the same here?
After dinner, Lisa asked Bryce to take care of the dishes while she got a shower. He quickly did so then got to work on the things he had put off during the day. As he sat down at the desk, she reentered the living room wearing a robe that hid anything else she had on or didn't have on. The rest of the evening went as it had been for the last couple of months until he put everything back into his briefcase and headed to the bedroom to change for bed.
He had brushed his teeth, relieved his bladder, washed his hands, and changed out of the jeans he had put on into the sweats he wore to bed before she moved to take care of her own nightly oblations. Thus he was already in bed when she got there and removed the robe to reveal a nightgown that fell to just above her knees and hugged her d-cup tits to create a deep line of cleavage. Again, he couldn't discern any panty line through the material and he wondered if she was trying to get him to do something since she didn't have on the thick cotton gown she usually wore to bed for warmth. If she was, and he did, would she then resist so that she could try to claim rape?
He decided to keep his distance and they said their good nights, although neither were able to fall to sleep quickly. She was worried that her plan wasn't working and he was worried that she was cheating and wanted a divorce.
Friday, 10 February.