Becoming a Slut Wife, Maria - Sequel

All I could do was sit on the couch and stare at her as what she was saying hit home - my wife had become another man's slut.

Part Two: by Jedd Clampett

(Ten seconds later.)

Disbelief was my first reaction. Then came anger, then grief. It all came so fast, just a matter of seconds, but more followed, more emotions than I could imagine. I sat there and looked at her. My wife, my beautiful wife of three years, after all the hard work, and man I'd been working my ass off, all our hopes and dreams, no, my hopes and my dreams, had just turned to shit. A moment ago it was we, now it was just me.

I was watching my life, my heart, my love, my everything, like a turd, a big fat turd go swirling, whirling, round and round, down the toilet. Is this what it felt like when someone was guillotined? They say the head lives another six or seven seconds as it falls in the basket. That was it! Slice! Clump! Down! Over, gone and dead.

I sat motionless; all that was left was disgust, like in one sentence she'd gone from beautiful to a writhing greasy pile of maggots. I had to keep my head, "You say you love me, but you need this, this big dick."

Maria saw and understood my reaction; she winced and nodded, "Yes, oh please try to understand. I love you so much, but I can't help it. I just can't help it."

I was thinking, 'Get a grip pal. This is was no time to crack. Hold it in; all of it, all the anger and pain. Don't let her see,' "And I'm supposed to just go along?"

"Honey." Almost wailing, begging, she replied, "You have to try to understand. It's like I've been drugged, it's this compulsion. Please, I love you. I love you so much, but I have to have...what he has."

I was shaking, coiled like a cobra, poised like a cheetah ready to spring! Strike out at her! At him! No, stayed cool, stay calm. Like my father used to say, like he still says, "Never let them know; just do it!"

But do what? Hit her? Strike out at her? No! At the guy? Get him? OK, maybe, but right now I don't even know who he is, just a name; just some big dicked asshole named Terri.

So what was I going to do? It all boiled down to flight or fight. Well damn; I was no coward. I wouldn't run, but fight? How to fight back? And for what? What would I be fighting for? I thought back on my past, past girls. There'd been Sarah. OK, that lasted only a few months, but once I caught her she was history. I looked at Maria. God I loved her. Loved; that was the operative word, not love-loved. She was dead to me. Like Sarah, with Maria all I'd found was another slut. I knew then; I wouldn't be fighting for her, or for our clearly a dead marriage. This was about me, my self-respect. I needed a plan. That's it; a plan of action. Nothing now though, nothing too precipitous, don't jump till you know how deep the water is. So what do I do?

I glanced down at my hands; they were balled into fists. Relax, breathe, try to breathe, breathe in slow steady breaths. Keep things under control.

OK, now what?

Shit! I told her, "Maria I'm going upstairs for a few minutes. Don't follow me. I've got to work this out."

She remained seated, "I love you Rob. Know that I love you. I love you with all my heart, all my being, it's just..."

I got up, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Keep cool, stay calm, no anger, no outward displays of emotion. Don't let her see... I slowly climbed the stairs. What do I do?

I got to our bedroom. All right, who matters most right now? Not her, not anymore. I matter! We've been making love, no scratch that, we've been having sex, but she's been having sex with at least one other guy, a ten incher. Ten inches! Who has ten inches? What; he's a fucking horse?

Don't be stupid Rob, anyone with ten inches like she says knows what he's doing. He's a player. Who knows where he's been. Oh no! Got that! Wherever he's been, she's been. Wherever she's been, I've been there too. I might already be fucked. I checked my watch; first thing tomorrow find a doctor. I need to be tested. That means of course no more sex with Maria. Well that wasn't happening anymore anyway.

I went to the bathroom. Don't get sick, not now, she'll hear, she'll know. I looked in the mirror. Certainly, I've got a problem. Work, too much work. Damn it I've been working my ass off in offices and cubby holes for going on three years. Look at yourself Rob, too many hours behind a desk. You've lost it. Who'd even want you right now? Whatever happened to your svelte thirty-three inch waist, your firm biceps, and the broad shoulders? You've become a softy, a marshmallow. That'll have to change.

Money, no money. It's all been going down the shitter. I looked in the closet. Look at your God damned clothes. Maria, she's got clothes, but you. You dumb asshole, everything's worn and torn. White shirts all tattered, pilled collars, raggedy sleeves, shapeless pants, scuffed wing tip shoes. When the fuck did I start wearing wing tips anyway? And that fucking car! Why am I spending all that fucking money on a BMW when I've got my old Pick-up back in dad's barn?

That's it! That's where I'll start. I'll go home; it's not that far. I'll go home and see mom and dad. They've always, like always been there. I'll borrow some money. I'll get my Pick-up back out. I'll get my ass back in gear. Time to start over.

I went back downstairs, "Maria I've thought things over."

She got up, there were unshed tears in her eyes. She came across to me, arms outstretched, "I love you. I know we'll get through this. It's nothing really; just a little..."

I held her off, "No Maria it's not like that. First, I'm not leaving, not yet, but there'll be some changes. As far as I'm concerned you can get all the sex you want from your new man or anybody else you want, but nothing from me. I've got to get tested. I don't know what your lover boy has brought into this house. I just know I'm not dying of AIDS. I suggest you get tested too."

She flinched back slightly. Fingers to her lips, "No Rob, I'm sure Terri's clean."

"So you say," I said, "I'll let a doctor confirm that. Christ Maria, it takes months to find out about HIV. We may never be intimate again!"

"Rob no."

"Look sweetie; you've got yours. Enjoy him. Me? I've got to make sure, and if I'm clean, I'm staying clean. Now there's a couple other matters..."

She leaned back on the edge of our sofa, "You don't love me anymore. You don't want me."

"Oh I want you. I just don't want to die over you," I checked my watch again, "Maybe an hour ago I would have died for you, now I'm not so sure." I saw the look in her eyes; she didn't like that.

"Listen, I'm not leaving, not right away, but I am going home. I've got to see my mom and dad," Maria had met my parents and she'd immediately fallen in love with them. They liked her too, but dad had warned me, 'a girl like that, the modelling'. Now I knew what he meant.

"I need money. Things have to change."

Her lower lip, quivering stuck out like a child's, "We have money. I have money."

"I know. You have your money, and what you've done with the modelling has been a big help, a terrific help, but I've got other priorities now."

"You're going to leave me. I knew you would."

"No, I said I wasn't leaving, but I'm taking a few days off. I guess I need to get realigned."

She complained, "But you just started your new job. What if they don't give you off?"

I replied, "It'll only be a few days, but it won't matter. Like you said, I just started. I'm young and I'm good at what I do. There're other places."

She whimpered, "You're leaving me. You're abandoning me. Rob I love you. I need you."

I held my anger in. She needed me? What a liar. She needed somebody to pay the rent. She needed my income. She sure didn't need me. And love? Well she'd fixed that. Love means fidelity, and that went out the window with her ten inches. I walked over and took her arms at the elbows. She was close enough to hug, but I didn't want that, "Maria I'm going out right now, but I'll be back," before she could comment I added, "I need to buy a mattress. I'm moving into the spare bedroom till I figure things out. I don't want to be in the same bed with you, the disease thing's got me," I grabbed my keys and started for the door.

She called after me, "Please Rob..."

I looked back and waved, "Later."

I reached my car, pulled out my cell, and hit the number I needed. Mom picked it, "Hello, is that you Rob?"

"Yeah it's me. Mom I'm coming home for a couple days. I need to talk to you and dad."

"Is Maria coming?"

"No mom, just me.

~~~V~~~

The next day was a Tuesday. First thing I called our doctor and set up an appointment for the next afternoon. Then I went to work.

I went in and saw my supervisor. I told him I was having personal problems and needed the rest of the week off. He didn't like it, and as much as told me if I missed any more time he'd find someone else. I agreed that's what he should do and gave him my notice. The hell with him. What difference did it make now? He refused to take it; he just said to take the week off and we'd talk when I came back. Well good I thought, I wanted to do things differently around there as it was. So did a lot of other employees.

Next I went to a clothing store, not Walmart this time, a better store. I bought some jeans, some new Tenner's, a bunch of comfortable Tee-shirts, and two, not one, but two really nice dark suits that needed to be fitted and altered. OK, they weren't top of the line, but they'd be better than the frumpy trash I'd been wearing.

Then I joined a gym. I'd gone soft and fat, and since my future home life would be essentially nonexistent I'd use my evenings for something more than cuddling with the tramp I'd married.

Last I hit a bedroom barn and bought a cheap mattress to be delivered the next day. Yeah, I'd spent a pretty sleepless night thinking about 'things'. Did I love Maria? Yeah sure, but so what. She'd made a choice. I was out and 'Big Pecker' was in. Besides, what had she done to contribute to the marriage? For two years I worked while she played at college. She still hadn't graduated. Then when I lost my first job she went right back to what she'd always done, sitting around naked for guys to ogle and paint. The money was good, it had helped, but in all our time together she'd never put herself out, well she'd 'put out', but never tried to get involved in building anything. We still rented; that was a blessing now, no additional ties when the time came. The time was coming too.

Then I thought about my big dicked replacement. I knew nothing about him, but I'd find out. Then I'd decide what to do about him.

I got home a little earlier than I figured. Maria was still holding court in the living room. I slipped past the sketchers and went straight upstairs. I had maybe a half hour. I worked as fast as I could and moved all my shit into the spare bedroom. It was piled up as it was, a little more wouldn't matter. I cleared a place for the mattress. I'd made a quick stop at a hardware and bought a cheap lock set for the spare room door. I installed that. There'd be no midnight visitors, not for me, not on this watch, not anymore.

All that done I went back downstairs. The last of the sketchers was leaving. I waved at Maria, "Be back later. Fix yourself some dinner. Don't bother to wait up." Where was I going? Nowhere, maybe I'd catch a movie, stop in at a Denny's, maybe buy a cheap refrigerator for the spare room. I just knew I wasn't hanging around with her.

Around 1:00 a.m. I slipped back in the house. OK, I did some things maybe I shouldn't have. I'd stopped at a tavern; one we'd never visited and had a couple shots of Jim Beam. Then I got snarky. I stopped off at a mall, hit a Belk's and bought a bottle of perfume. I dabbed just a tad of the stuff on my shirt and neck; just enough for Maria to smell. I bought a cheap refrigerator at Lowes too.

Armed with the refrigerator I tried to pretend I was sneaking back in the house. I sort of hoped Maria would be up. She was.

As I came in lugging the refrigerator, she walked over, "Ron I...," she smelled the perfume and without a word immediately turned around and walked upstairs.

Thought I'd be up and gone Wednesday before she got up, but that wasn't the case. She was waiting for me, "You were with someone last night."

I shrugged and then lied, "I know it was wrong, but I was horny. I only hope I didn't give them anything."

"Them?"

I backtracked, "OK, it was only one, and she wasn't nearly as pretty or as much fun as you."

She asked, "Where're you going now? You going to work?"

"No, the doctors, then I'm leaving for home."

She seemed a little stressed. It made me feel good, but not happy, and certainly not like I would have felt a week ago. She said, "This is your home."

I was at the front door, "Uh huh, don't think so. See you in a couple days."

She followed me out, "Rob please, let's talk. Maybe I made a mistake."

I yelled back, "Sunday!" And I was gone.

I spent some time at the doctors. All my vitals were fine, but that was no surprise. They took some blood, I gave them my parent's address to send the results, and was on my way.

Mom met me at the door of my childhood home a little after 3:00 p.m., "Maria called. She sounded worried. She asked me to tell you to call her when you got here."

"Thanks mom, is dad around?"

He's at Raymond's, said he be home for dinner."

Raymond's my older brother; he's due to get the farm. Me and my younger siblings will get money, and some property mom and dad acquired at the beach. I waited till 5:00 before I called Maria.

She picked up right away, "Rob you made it to your mom and dad's. I was worried."

I responded, "Yeah I'm here. How'd your afternoon sittings go?"

"The usual, got a new sketcher so that's seven for Wednesdays."

"That's great Maria. Did my mattress come?"

"Yes, since you locked the spare room they left it in the dining room," there was a moment or so hesitation, "Rob can I come out?"

"Out here?"

"Yes, we need to talk some more."

"Sorry Maria, we're done talking for now. Besides you've got customers."

"Rob please. I was wrong."

'Remorse,' I thought, 'probably for now, but come Monday when the 'big guy' showed up most likely that would change.' I said, "No you need to stay. Do your thing. I'll do mine, and see you Sunday, bye," I hung up.

Dad got home a little later. For a second or so I thought I was going to lose it. Mom vanished, and I guess dad saw the look on my face. He said, "Don't go there."

Dad, he had a way, that's all it took, "She's seeing...," I was starting to crack.

Dad was on me. Arm around my shoulder. He pulled me to the sofa, "Tell me about it."

I had my dad. Oh Jesus the man was always with me, "She's been fucking someone else. She told me she plans on keeping it up. I don't know what to do." This was usually when Raymond and I heard the old 'stand them on their heads and...' He didn't this time, "It hurts when someone you love lets you down."

I reflected on my dad; he was a Vietnam veteran. The girl he loved dropped a 'Dear John' on him when he was away. It tore him up. When he came home though they worked it out. Seems old Jody hadn't been the man mom thought he was. That's right it'd been my mom. She was waiting for him at the airport when he came home. He'd never told her he was coming, his parents, my grandparents did. They said the reunion was the best; dad forgave but never forgot, mom never forgot either. I said, "It sure does dad."

"So what're you going to do?"

"It's over dad," I told him what she'd told me.

"Yes son, looks like it might be time to cash in. Not telling you what to do, and I sure don't believe in the 'once a cheater always a cheater thing', but she sure didn't leave much room for maneuver."

He was confirming what I knew, "It's about trust isn't it dad. We were together every day then she sees something, thinks about it, decides she wants it, takes it, likes it, and tells me she wants to keep getting it. I mean the bullet left the barrel didn't it dad, the deer is down, maybe not dead yet, but he sure is down."

"Good analogy son. Now do you have the heart to finish him off?"

"Got no choice do I?"

He frowned, "Sure you got a choice son. Let the thing live, let it suffer, and suffer it will."

"I know, but this isn't a deer is it?"

"No son it's not. What she killed is a marriage. Can you trust her after this? Not telling you what to do son. That's your call. She could bail on this one, but there's the next one, and there'll always be a next one. Like my cousin Rafe. You remember him, alcoholic, married, kids, good wife, good job, stayed dry for years at a time, but always, sooner or later he'd fall. In the end it killed him."

I remembered Rafe, good guy, good family, ran his truck off the road one night, drunk as a skunk.

Dad went on, "Son, I see the pain, but it's your call. You let her have her way, or she changes her mind and you stick with her. Either way you know your mom and me will be here for you. We want what you want, or what you think is best."

"Dad I hate to ask..."

Mom came in, "You need anything. You need any money?"

I turned to my mom, "My truck, and I've got some things, some old jean, my gun and my rifle."

Dad looked worried, "Thinking about hunting son?"

I grinned, "Not what you think, but yeah when the season's right I want to be ready."

He grinned, "There's still a lot out here."

I was going to be OK, "I know, and I'll be here." Maria was dead set against firearms, any kind of firearm. The people in my family weren't Second Amendment nuts, none of that crazy stuff, but we were in the NRA, and we did hunt some. Hell a lot of people did where we lived.

Over the next few days the word got out. I was home to catch my breath. Both brothers showed up. Little sister stopped in with her kids. Bro-in-law managed to get me drunk one night. The last day, Sunday afternoon we were all seated around the dinner table. Mom had fixed a big ham. We were packing it in. I knew before I left mom would have a couple dozen brown eggs all wrapped to take back. That was when Jennifer, my little sister, dropped a big one me, "You know Pauline's still not married."

"You mean Pauline French?"

Mom smiled.

Dad pretended not to hear.

Older brother chuckled, "No she's still holding out."

I dropped another piece of ham on my plate. I scooped up some more sweet potatoes, "She waiting for anyone in particular?"

Dad said, "I heard there's an asshole somewhere about."

Mom chided, "Gregg." My dad's name was Gregg. Pauline French had been my high school sweetheart. We'd had a big fight just before I'd gone off to college. I'd never say Pauline was anything but a nice girl, but she'd gotten a little loose our senior year. I guess her looseness and my possessiveness had been at odds. Before I left for college she'd thrown the ring I'd given her in the river and started dating someone else. We'd almost made it back one summer, but then I'd met Sarah. Pauline wouldn't put out, and Sarah would.

I looked at dad, then mom, "Maybe someone might give her a call after he clears up a few other matters."

Mom said, "I've got her number."

I thought, 'I bet you do.'

Sunday afternoon, loaded down with eggs, a half-pound of ham, and an assortment of other foods including some tenderloin, and jams and jellies, I started back to what used to be my home. All the way back I was jittery and nervous. I wished I'd taken the next day off. Maria's 'big boner' was part of her Monday program, and I wanted to see what he looked like.

I didn't get in until close to 11:00 p.m. Maria was up. I came in and she was on the couch waiting, she said, "Your mom and dad doing all right?"

I replied, "Yeah."