An Open Letter to My Wife

Note to reader: Look upon this story as me trying to get back on the horse named 'Writers Block' that threw me. Read at your own risk, but if you do, feel free to point out where I screwed up.

AN OPEN LETTER TO MY WIFE

Sandy, if you are reading this, I'm dead. You may be asking, "Why am I waiting till now to bring these things up?" The answer is, for many years I loved you so much, I didn't want to lose you and finally, when love died, we still fit together like a comfortable old shoe and I didn't want to lose what little of your love I had left.

Sooo....where do I start? Why not at the beginning? You may be saying to yourself, "Why tell me all this, doesn't he think I remember?" Maybe you do, but to be truthful, it seems to me you forgot a lot of what I'm, going to remind you of.

When we met, it was love at first sight for me, but I realize it took you a lot longer to fall under the spell of my manly charms. When I asked you for a date, I knew you had a regular stable of guys you spread your favor upon, but you said yes, and added me to that list. I was walking on water. We hit it off and over the next few months I moved up on your list of favorites until finally we were exclusive.

Even my friends warning me about the problems of an average guy falling for a beauty queen ten years my junior, did nothing to discourage me. When we went out, be it just a movie or dinner and dancing, I was proud to have a beauty, such as you, hanging on my arm. I still fondly remember the times we'd be out dancing and some young stud your age asked you for the next dance and how you'd always refuse.

After we'd got to know each other really good, I once asked you why you always turned them down and your reply was, "Yours is the only cock I want rubbing up against me." I'm sure those words were sincere the first years--the years when our babies, Megan and Tommy were born and grew up in a loving home with two loving parents.

It was also during that time my Uncle Charlie died and left me, his only heir, 'Carolina Shipping,' which was at that time one of the biggest trucking companies in the tristate area. Yeah, I probably spent too much time at work, but I tried to be with you and the kids as much as I could and still keep the company prosperous, and you gotta admit, I was successful; only if you measure success in terms of the material things our family had.

At this stage in life, I realize they came at a cost to our family's closeness and happiness and those lost years and opportunities to create family memories can never be recovered.

Do you ever think about how things were those years? I often do, especially now since this damn disease has gotten so bad that thinking and banging on this dang keyboard are about all I can do. If you don't already, I hope you'll have an opportunity to give it some thought after you read this letter.

Let me state here and now, "I was not the clueless cuck you thought I was; I just weighed all the pros and cons and decided I'd rather keep what you were offering me than to blow up our family's world.

%%%%%

So where do I start? If you remember the London trip I took about three years after I first started having ED troubles. At that time we were into a few years of you being frustrated a lot more times than you were satisfied after we had sex. You always tried to assure me it didn't matter, but I'll never forget how embarrassing it was for my dick to quit right in the middle of the battle.

You were so sincere and acted so normal that I almost convinced myself you really were okay with the way things were going; that is until the day I came home from the London trip early and tried to surprise you. I was the one who got surprised.

No, I had no idea you were even home; it wasn't time for you to be off work yet and since I took a cab from the airport I had no idea how many cars were in our garage, and so I wasn't trying to sneak in the house.

I just opened the door and walked in thinking I had plenty of time to fix dinner for us; until I was blasted by that wall of music. I knew right then you were home early also, but I thought it might be a good thing-- maybe now you wouldn't be too tired and we could at least cuddle and fool around a bit after dinner; after all, it had been a long time--too damn long.

You had that crazy, wild West African music, from the movie about the missionary wife that took part in the native's fertility rites without her husband's knowledge, playing so loud it's a wonder the neighbors didn't call the law.

'Wow! Things are looking up,' I thought, 'Every time we play that music she gets hot as a firecracker. Wonder how she knew I'd be home early enough to play around tonight?'

As I headed to the bedroom to tell you to turn the darn thing down.it still hadn't dawned on me that there was no way you could have been including me in your plans. Stepping into the bedroom door you hadn't bothered to close, I was treated to a picture of you, and the man I immediately recognized as your old boyfriend, locked in a sixty-nine.

Thinking back I guess I was shocked--I mean there I was, watching my very own porn show, except this was in real life--my life--and I didn't enjoy it and yet in some strange way I was fascinated by the sight of you sucking on a cock while obviously enjoying what that fellow's tongue was doing to your pussy. In those fleeting moments my mind was awhirl with thoughts of the many times I'd tried to get you to do exactly what I was witnessing only to be told, "that kind'a stuff is nasty."

I didn't know what to do; part of me wanted to get my old 12 gauge and blow both your asses to kingdom come; however that thought didn't last long, for I had no desire to spend time in prison.

One thing I was sure of though, you were going to pay for your dishonesty of pretending you didn't want sex. Crap! It wasn't that you didn't want sex--you just didn't want it with me; and I'm the one you vowed the better or worse--the in sickness or in health, thing.

*************

An unbiased reader would probably say, "What the heck does he expect; if he isn't meeting her needs, naturally she's going to look elsewhere." At first blush I even understand that, but this thing was a long time coming and we had plenty of time to perfect other means to satisfy you. Heck! We've both watched flicks where two women brought each other off with just their fingers and tongues--not a cock in the room.

Okay, so maybe I couldn't have done as a good a job, not at first, anyway, but you don't know what I could have done because you didn't give me a chance to try. That one thing has haunted my thoughts more than anything else since that day.

Of course in the beginning my little solider only failed to stand up and be counted once in a while and when it did I tried to make up for the shortfall with my tongue and fingers but you'd have none of that. "It's nasty," you'd say. "Nothing but queers do stuff like that," you insisted and nothing I could do or say would change your mind, and God forbid I suggest I could still enjoy it if you got me off with your mouth. No amount of persuasion could convince you that a climax on a half hard cock was better for a guy than no climax at all. EVEN THINKING ABOUT ALL THOSE TIMES YOU PUSHED ME AWAY AS I TRIED TO DO EXACTLY WHAT I SAW YOUR BOYFRIEND DOING JUST PISSES ME OFF!

So for a long time there we'd continue trying to fuck, but more and more often Ole John failed to hold up his part of the bargain. Those times things came to a screeching halt and all we'd do was cuddle until finally dropping off to sleep. And to think! We did that for the longest time and I was such a clueless cuck I accepted your claim that sex just wasn't that important to you anymore--that you just wanted to make me happy. (It was like you didn't even hear what I said about enjoying playing with you to get you off and that getting off with a limber cock still being better than nothing.)

All these memories rushed pell-mell through my head as I stood in the doorway watching my own personal porn show. I've read in Literotica about husbands who really got a kick out of watching another man fucking their wives; let me state here and now--"I didn't enjoy it a damn bit!"

In fact, after watching him bring you to two screaming orgasms with his tongue all I could think of was, 'Well, at least she's full of shit about thinking oral sex is nasty.'

Yeah, before you ask, I did recognize the man you'd admitted was your first--god knows I've seen his picture many times; I mean for a long time we'd kept our yearbooks right there on the coffee table and every time I flipped through yours, his picture that he'd signed, "To the Love of my life," had a way of jumping out at me.

Even a man would have to admit He was a handsome cuss. His 'chiseled' face and athletic body was sure to turn any girl's head and when I asked, you were honest with me--I thought. You said you dated him all through school and that he was your first; that you'd only broken off the relationship when he went Ohio State on a football scholarship.

At that time you'd assured me you hadn't seen him in years and that since we'd gotten together you'd never given Larry a second thought. I remember your words explicitly, "Tony," you said, "You're my man now, and you will always be my man. No, you weren't my first, just like I wasn't yours, but I promise you this--YOU WILL BE MY LAST! JUST LIKE I DARN WELL BETTER BE YOUR LAST!"

Well, I'd thought, so much for that promise, and from where I'm standing I'm guessing today wasn't the first time you, my loving wife, made me an unknowing cuckold. Now it was up to me to do what was best for me, but while I was deciding, it wouldn't hurt to have some video evidence, so out came the old cell phone and its handy camera app. What the heck did husbands do before these handy recorders were available--walk around with a camera hanging around their neck?

No way was I going to be able to watch much of that without blowing a gasket, so as soon as I thought I had enough video I turned and walked away. I didn't want to 'cut off my nose to spite my face' as the old folks used to say, so I drove down to the park where I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on a bench watching the ducks swim around and trying to decide my next move.

As I considered all things I realized it was almost inevitable you would look elsewhere for what I couldn't supply. After all, you were a healthy woman just past your prime but one would never know it by looking at you. Unlike me, you'd kept yourself in good shape by watching your diet and regular gym workouts

And as bad as I hated to admit it, there you were, a hot woman tied to a chubby old asshole who couldn't keep a hard-on long enough to satisfy her. Hell, due to me, our social life was limited to going out with friends--me sitting around sipping on a beer and talking with the men while you joined the other wives on the dance floor dancing with whichever guy got up enough nerve to ask right in front of us husbands.

That was the day I decided to change my life; a strict diet and gym workouts three times a week became the new normal for me. Sandy, you thought it was four times, but the fourth night I spent at Miss Cindy's Dance Studio, trying to develop rhythm and teach my two left feet that one of them was a right foot.

Was I successful? The answer would had to be "Yes and No" depending on what someone thought my goal was. If it was to convince you that we still loved each other too much for you to fuck round with your old flame, the answer was "No" but if it was to show you how much you meant to me and keep you from leaving me outright, the answer was "Yes."

So, what did I decide to do about your indiscretions? Well, it wasn't what all the keyboard commandos on Literotica would claim they'd do, but then we'll never know what we'd do until faced with the situation.

While I was still trying to decide if I wanted to accuse you and bring things to a head, my doctor made the decision easy. I won't bore you with the details, but after an extensive battery of test, he called for us to meet in his office, where he gave me the news about what awaited me in no more than ten years, barring a major medical breakthrough.

Basically the last few years I'd require an awful lot of nursing, which you tearfully assured both of us you would provide; there was no need to worry about hiring a professional. I admit I had my doubts, but ...

Maybe the time I caught you was the first time you'd cheated after all--I don't know--but I do know after that night you became the old Sandy I knew and loved. There was a spring in your step, a smile on your face and a song on your lips, as you flittered about the house treating me like a king--in every way except sexually. Sexually I was still cut off completely, and my secretly installed camera attested that while I was working every afternoon, trying to assure both you and the employees would be okay after I checked out, Larry was supplying you with everything I was unable to provide.

So I decided to just let things ride; I'd do all I could to make the company as successful as I could in the time I had left--with some important changes. One big one was it became an employee owned enterprise--yes since I inherited it, I could do that.

Don't worry, you will be taken care of; not nearly as well as I intended before I heard the recording of you and your lover bad mouthing me, but you'll have an allowance enabling you to live out your life in comfort. However you won't have anything to attract the damn gold digging bastards like the one I'm sure is already hanging around you like a bee around honey.

Same thing goes for the kids; they won't have a big college debt and they will get a good nest egg to start but then have to earn their way in life. I'm sure they will think I'm awful, but I'm doing them the biggest favor of their young lives.

&&&&&

Afraid I'm not going to get a chance to say everything I wanted to. Since I wrote the above I had a flair up and the doctor don't think I have long left, so my lawyer will be getting in touch--I honestly wish you hadn't lost your respect for me.

%%%%%

Hi, I'm Sandy and after reading the letter Tony left me I have to admit I was burned up about the way he cut me out of what I thought was my just due. Yes, I fought the will and the slick way he just eased me out of millions, (well, maybe not millions, but a lot of money--how much I can only guess) but after spending too much of what I did get on lawyers, I got exactly what Tony stipulated in his will.

Well, maybe it wasn't all for nothing--as soon as Larry found out I wasn't going to get enough money to support him in the way he wanted to become accustomed, he disappeared. Also, I finally understood the old ditty about, "What's 10,000 Lawyers floating in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean surrounded by sharks called?" Answer--a damn good start.

Anyway, time has a way of healing old wounds and now, ten years after Tony's death, I finally saw the light--I've got over my hate, which cost me a good husband, made my two children ignore me except for Christmas and most of my old friends forget how to answer my calls. So why, you might ask am I sending this letter to Literotica for the world to read?

Several reasons--first and foremost Tony tried all his life to get a story posted in the Loving Wives section, and this is his last chance, and secondly--God has taken a hand in the game. Yes, He's given me the same strain of the 'BIG C' Tony had and the best estimate is, if I'm going to see any of Tony's work posted they'd better hurry.

Karma's a bitch, isn't it?