Annie and the Dynamite

Welcome to my first attempt at a loving wives story. I'm finding it difficult to describe how it fits into the various types of LW tales, so permit me to describe what it is not. There is no cuckold, swapping, BTB, or RAAC. There is also very little sex. It's just a quick story about a wife that deals effectively with a cheating husband.

©BarryJames1952 April 2020

Annie and the Dynamite

April, 2018, Ohio

Annie sat in the meadow with dynamite placed underneath her. Her fate seemed to depend upon the outcome of a tough conversation. Marcy Murray had the detonator in her hand as she looked out the window of the farmhouse at her husband's true love. When her husband, John, arrived home, there would be decisions for him to make. His answers could determine the direction of an explosive ending.

Earlier That Week

For a Sunday in April, it was pleasant and warm at the Murray's farm in central Ohio. The smell of spring flowers filled the air to Marcy's delight. John, however, couldn't stop sneezing. The hibiscus and the tulips aggravated his allergies and he was just thankful they wouldn't be in bloom much longer.

Marcy gazed with the glow of spring fever at her beloved flowers, but noticed how their beauty put the old house to shame. John had fixed up the barn over the winter, but the white paint on the house looked dirty and was peeling off revealing that old ugly green underneath. Several boards clearly needed replacing, and a few shingles drooped over the edge of the roof.

She spotted Duke, their faithful black lab on the porch. It wasn't too long ago that he would run to her whenever she was outside and greet her with rapid tongue and playful yips. She lamented that even her playful puppy was now an old dog. Her initial spring joy quickly dissolved and she felt older and a bit depressed.

"Good morning, Pastor."

"John! Good to see you."

Marcy and John Murray looked forward to church every week. They had lots of friends at the little Baptist church, and it was also the day they were guaranteed to see both of their daughters and their families. Their twenty-six years of marriage resulted in two lovely girls, a grandson by their oldest daughter, and a granddaughter on the way from their younger girl. It was the family tradition to attend church together and then feast on the Sunday brunch buffet at the Madison Inn. It was always the highlight of their week.

"You gonna keep me awake with your sermon this morning?"

"I hope so. You're my visual barometer for how I'm doing up there."

"Oh, I see our girls over there. I'll give you your grades after the service."

"Be gentle with those grades, John. We need more folks with the gift of encouragement these days."

They started walking towards their family when Marcy shared an observation with her husband.

"Look, Honey. The young lady our girls are chatting with. Is that Cindi Shaw? She looks like that baby will pop out of her any day."

"If I remember correctly, you had a similar look when you were having each of our girls. Seems like only yesterday."

"When did we seem to get so damn old?"

Marcy waited for any response from her husband. His opportunity to say something like, 'You're still the prettiest girl,' or some form of compliment was just hanging out there without being grasped. She heard nothing. There was no affirmation of his undying love or continued desire for her. The depression that was creeping into her seemed to deepen. 'I must be as tired looking as that damn, old house,' she thought. Only the youthful spirit of her children and grandson kept her from completely giving in to her foul mood.

After the service, the family was in line to greet the pastor when Marcy noticed Lucy Rawls trying to get her attention. 'Darn,' she thought. 'What does the old busy-body want with me?' She excused herself from the family and wandered toward Lucy in the front of the sanctuary where they would be alone.

"Lucy, what's the matter?"

"Oh, Marcy. You know I don't like to spread rumors, but I saw something with my own eyes that I think you should know about."

'Right,' Marcy thought. 'She'd rather start rumors than spread them.'

"What, Lucy?"

"Oh, dear me. I don't want to upset you, but I'm pretty sure I saw John stepping out on you this past Thursday."

"What? You must be mistaken. No, he wouldn't do that."

"I'm sorry, dear. I saw him go into that woman's house that lives across the street from me. He was in there for about twenty minutes, then came out looking all... you know... satisfied."

"I'm sure you're wrong, Lucy. My John wouldn't do that."

"Oh, I understand how you feel and how you want to stand by your man and all. I thought I saw him there Thursday the week before but I wasn't sure, so I didn't say anything."

Marcy thought for a moment. She realized that Thursdays were when John went to town and to the feed store. He used to go on Tuesdays, but about six weeks ago he changed his routine.

"Lucy, I appreciate your concern and bringing this to my attention. You will keep this between us, right?"

"Absolutely. I don't want to spread something like this around."

'Yeah,' Marcy thought. 'It won't take long before it's all over town.'

Lucy continued. "That woman is known for her particular enjoyment of performing... well... certain sex acts that the Lewinsky woman was known for doing with President Clinton. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, I do. You mean fellatio."

"That's right. Nasty stuff. She's not a very good looking woman, so I guess that's the price she pays to get male attention."

"Perhaps that's true. Lucy, do you have a digital camera or a cell phone that takes pictures?"

"Sure do."

"Can you keep an eye out next Thursday, and if you see him again take some pictures?"

"I'd be glad to, dear. How will I get them to you?"

"Do you know how to text on your phone?"

"Sure. Do you want me to text the pictures to you?"

"Yes, please. Call me first as soon as you see him, okay?"

They exchanged numbers and parted.

Marcy's depression and now her suspicions started to completely destroy her attitude. She tried to put on her Sunday smile for her family and, fortunately, her one-year-old grandson made that easy. He waddle-ran into her arms as she approached. Lucy picked him up and immediately noticed the unmistakable smell of a ripe diaper.

John looked at his wife with a slight appearance of worry. "What did 'Loose-lips-Lucy' want?"

"Oh, she's trying to organize a surprise birthday for the pastor in a few weeks and she wanted my help."

She turned to her oldest daughter with the wrinkled face of a woman who had detected a horrendous odor. "Sweetie, I think I'll take this little ball of energy down to the nursery for a minute to change that diaper. I'll meet you all in the parking lot."

Marcy did her nasty duty with the joy of a doting grandmother. Speaking to her squirming grandson, she summed up her experience of the last few moments. "I guess we should clean this poo off you, Sweetie. And Grandma needs to figure out how much poo Grandpa is in."

*****

Marcy was a strong and level-headed woman. Her face and mannerisms displayed no signs of the news she received from Lucy. It was easy to keep her composure during brunch with all the family around. The rest of the afternoon would be no problem because she knew John would be planted in front of the idiot box during the afternoon while watching the Reds lose another ball game. Why he bothered with watching that team baffled her.

Most Sundays, John left her to her own devices and she usually took the opportunity to read a book that helped her escape the confines of their simple life. She enjoyed historical romances and often dreamed of the dashing leading men sweeping her off her feet. Marcy was not unaware that once she was an attractive woman. She noticed the looks men gave her. Sure, the farm made her rugged, but the tomboy in her seemed to attract many men. She was sure that if she were a countess in old England that she could seduce the handsome gardener into a tryst in the meadow.

This Sunday, however, she would be pretending to read while she considered how to deal with her potentially wayward spouse. She took stock of her husband's good and bad points so she could decide the best outcome if Lucy spoke the truth. She loved the son-of-a-bitch, for sure. He was tall and good looking, and the farm had kept him pretty lean. And for a tough farmer, he used to be tender and loving with her. She wondered if things had changed, and if she was reading too much into his failure to confirm his love for her that morning.

It was the 'bad column list' that concerned and confused her. She never thought he'd stray simply because he was terrible in bed and usually didn't seem all that interested in sex. Oh, she loved him and determined long ago that she could live with his shortcomings, but he was no 'sixty-minute-man.' She was lucky if he made it sixty seconds. He was well endowed, but what good was that when he had no staying power? In all their years of marriage, she never had an orgasm from his efforts.

She thought long and hard about various actions she could take. The big question for her was whether or not she could forgive him if he was stepping out. She had a lot of thinking to do, and only a few days to do it. If Lucy was correct and provided her proof, then Thursday afternoon there would be hell for John to pay. Defining the nature of the payment was the tough task that stood before her.

*****

John was working in the field on Tuesday when a plan came together in Marcy's head. He would pay, and pay big-time. She would need a little help and their farmhand, Sid, was loyal like a puppy to her. She knew Sid was strongly attracted to her and it was time to use that to her advantage.

Wednesday morning, John was back out in the field while Sid was in the barn tending to the animals. Marcy went out to find her potential accomplice.

"Hey, Sid. How ya doin'?"

"Hello, Mrs. Murray. I'm great but you're looking fabulous as usual."

"Sid, you're so sweet. Listen, can I ask a favor?"

"Anything, mam."

"Do we still have some of that old dynamite that John used to blow up those big rocks in the East field?"

"Yeah. He keeps it in the little shed in the meadow."

"Okay, good. I need you to do some things for me without John knowing."

Marcy gave him instructions on the things she needed him to do and asked him not to question her as to why. Like a puppy dog, he just panted and agreed to do whatever she asked. After she filled him in on her plans enough so he'd understand, they searched the barn for items they needed and hid them for the big event the following day.

"Thank you, Sid. And remember, not a word to John."

She hugged him to seal his devotion and went back to the house to start lunch preparations. About an hour later, John and Sid came through the door.

"Hey, Honey. Is lunch ready?"

"Coming right up, dear. Hi, Sid. I hope you boys are hungry. I made a big Shepherd's Pie."

Marcy watched as the two men wolfed down the meal and talked about the work they had to do that afternoon. She couldn't help feeling her nerves starting to cause her to question her plans. What she had in mind could have drastic consequences and she started to wonder if she could go through with it.

The men went back to work and Marcy paced, thought, worried, paced, and thought some more. After more than two hours of agonizing and second-guessing, she set her heart on going through with her plan. She had one more night to hide her suspicions from John, and deal with the guilt she already felt for what she planned to put him through.

*****

Thursday morning started out like every workday. Marcy made breakfast for the two men before they headed off to do their chores. It seemed funny how John's eggs had so much eggshell in them, and his biscuits were burnt. Marcy chuckled to herself as her man obviously noticed, but made no complaint.

Like every Thursday, John grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch and prepared to head into town. Marcy stopped him before he left.

"Honey, I have a small list of things I need from the grocery store. Can you pick these up before you come home?"

"Sure, dear. Love you."

"Love you, too. Be good, ya hear?"

Marcy sat at the kitchen table for what seemed like days even though it was only half an hour. She knew his stop at the feed store would take less than an hour, so it would only be a little longer before Lucy called if John was misbehaving.

Sid came into the kitchen to get some iced tea. "Mrs. Murray, when do I need to get ready?"

"Why don't you hang out on the porch and relax. I'll let you know when to spring into action."

Marcy's grocery list was actually pretty long and had a lot of perishable items on it. That way, she knew John would have to make the store his last stop. If he did go to that slut's house, the extra time would be enough for her and Sid to be ready.

She paced the floor and probably peed seven times since John left. Her nerves were getting out of control.

Then, there it was. Her phone rang, damn it.

"Hi, Lucy."

"Marcy, it's Lucy."

'No crap,' Marcy though.

"What's happening, Lucy?"

"I'm sorry, dear, but he's there again. I got some pictures I'll send."

"Okay, Lucy. Thanks for your help."

Marcy looked at the pictures as they arrived and it was pretty clear John had no business being where he was. Damn if Lucy wasn't right. She went out on the porch to find her accomplice.

"Sid?"

"Yes, mam."

"It's time. Go get Annie and put her in the meadow where I showed you and put the package under her. Then I'll need the little black box with the red button."

"Okay, mam. Then what should I do?"

"You may want to hide out in your apartment above the garage. Mr. Murray will not be happy with me and you may want to steer clear of him tonight. I'll bring your dinner over later."

"Yes, mam. Thank you, mam. I guess I better get to it."

Marcy sat at the kitchen table as a few tears fell. 'How could that son-of-a-bitch do this? Why?' She had some idea of the reasons, but John was going to tell her himself.

She got up and paced as she started to chastise herself for feeling so weak. 'Stop feeling sorry for yourself you stupid old woman. He's gonna pay, and you're gonna stay in control. Buckle up, buttercup! It's showtime.'

She sat back down with the attitude and look of determination. Right now, she was a force to be reckoned with. John didn't stand a chance.

*****

John walked into the backdoor hauling the bags of groceries and shouted, "Hey, honey. I'm home."

He saw her at the table. She looked different. She looked very different. He instantly could tell it was a look somewhere between mean and angry—or maybe both.

"Marcy? What's wrong?"

"Perhaps you'd like to explain these."

She showed him the pictures and he turned white as a sheet. She could see his mind working extra hard to come up with something.

"Oh, uhh, that a friend's house and I just stopped in to drop something off."

"Oh really? You're not carrying anything."

"What are you saying, Marcy? What are you accusing me of?"

"That's that ugly woman who works at the feed store. The one missing so many teeth that she flosses with a rope. What the hell are you doing there and why isn't she at the store working?"

John sat in the chair across from his wife and knew he had to come clean. He looked at his wife's face. She was trembling with anger and he knew this would not go well.

"Several weeks back, some guy at the feed store was bragging about how his wife woke him up most mornings with a blow job. I mumbled thinking nobody would hear me, but she heard me saying to myself that you never do that at all much less first thing in the morning. She quietly offered to service me anytime I wanted and told me she's off on Thursdays."

"So that's why you changed the day you go to town, you son of a bitch? Are you screwing her while my horny ass is stuck here? You can't even keep me serviced. Why the hell would you need that ugly bitch?"

"Because she does what you won't do! Okay? She gives great head and you won't even consider it. That's all she and I ever do. I go in, she blows me, and I leave."

"Is that so? And when you demand me to suck on you, what do I always say, you moron?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I tell you every time you've asked?"

"I don't know!"

"Are you stupid or deaf? Maybe you just don't listen. I always tell you that I'd be glad to go down on you when you go down on me."

"Oh, that. You know I think that's gross."

"Gross! But it's not gross for me to suck on your pee stick and swallow whatever comes out? Are you that selfish, you damn jerk?"

"I don't..."

"You don't what? Let me ask you something. How many times have you had an orgasm when we make love?"

"Well, every time, of course."

"Really. And how many times have I had an orgasm when we made love?"

"I don't know. Most of the time, I guess."

"Wrong! And that proves you've never listened to me. You, my darling husband, have NEVER given me an orgasm. Never, never, never!"

"Oh, come on. I twiddle your little nub and get you off or at least get you juicy so you're ready for me to do you."

"Do me? Okay, husband. You listen, and you hear every damn word I say. You're little 'twiddle' with your rough 'farmer hands' doesn't feel all that good. How about if I take a belt sander to you pecker? Would you like that? And your three pumps one-and-done with that useless dick doesn't have a chance of getting me off. You do your few grunts and roll over to go to sleep. I have to rub myself off to get any satisfaction."

"I, but..."

"Look up at me, idiot. I love you and put up with the fact that you are a rotten lover. Do you hear me? Rotten! And then you have the gall to go out and get your oral pleasures from a toothless hag? Maybe I should find a guy to give me orgasms orally. Maybe Sid would step up to the plate where you keep striking out."

"Damn it, Marcy don't you..."

"Sit down, asshole. I'm not done. Here's how it's gonna be. Look out that window."

"What?"

"Look out the damn window."

"Shit! What's Annie doing sitting out in the meadow?"

"See this little black box? Annie is sitting right over a package of dynamite and this is the detonator."

"No, Marcy. You wouldn't. That's..."

"Shut up and listen. You're gonna choose and you're gonna choose right now."

"What?"

"First, you're gonna lick my pussy."

"Marcy, please."

"Look, you son-of-a-bitch, you've never even tried it. You might even like it. Now, get to it."

Marcy sat back on her chair and pulled her dress up. There were no panties in the way to stop John.

"Marcy?"

"Now!"

John knew he was beaten. Reluctantly he dropped to his knees and approached his target. His face looked like he was being forced to eat manure from the barn.

"Get to it. It won't bite."

He got into position and sniffed at his wife's honey pot. He didn't want to admit it, but it smelled kinda good.

"Come on."

He gave a little lick. Marcy had washed up and played with herself before he came in so she would be juicy for him. After a few tastes, John was surprised by how much he liked the taste. In fact, he found he loved it.

Marcy directed his actions so she could get the full benefit, and for the first time in their marriage, John gave her a thunderous orgasm. He knew at that moment what a fool he'd been. He wasted all those years and could have had a wonderful sex life with his wife. And her orgasm was a thing of beauty to see. He did that to her, and he loved her all the more because he saw how he could please her.