Becoming A Slut Wife: Ripley

"I'm going to give you just five minutes to get dressed and get out. If you are still here in five I won't be responsible for what I do to your worthless ass. Get your worthless ass out of here before I hurt you."

"You can't make me leave" she sobbed, "This is my house too."

"The lawyers can decide that."

"I'm not leaving. For one thing we need to talk about this. It isn't what you think."

"How could I see you doing what you did and not have it be what I think?"

"That's not it. You are thinking that I don't love you. You are thinking that you aren't man enough for me if I had to do what I did, but you would be wrong. You are man enough for me. I was forced to do what I did tonight."

"Bullshit Ripley. No one grabbed you and pulled you into this bedroom tonight. I watched the whole thing you treacherous bitch! I was in the garage getting ice and I saw you through the window. I saw you mix my drink, empty something into it and then put a straw in it so you could make sure I got the right drink. I pretended to sip it Ripley and when you weren't looking I dumped it out. I faked passing out. I watched you crawling around on the living room floor going from cock to cock. I watched you take on the seven of them from outside the bedroom window. There was no force used Ripley, this was a preplanned event, planned ahead of time. You say that you love me and you do that to me? I'd hate to see what you could do to me if you disliked or hated me."

"Please honey, let me tell you ab..."

"Fuck you Ripley. You are a treacherous whore and I wouldn't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth. I've changed my mind. You can stay and I'll go. I could never go in that kitchen again without seeing you doctor my drink. Every time I went into the living room I'd see you crawling around on the floor sucking cock after cock. I don't even want to go into what I'd see when I came into this room. I'll leave now, but I'll come back this afternoon to pack my stuff. Do me the favor of not being here. I don't ever want to set eyes on your cheating ass again."

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I spent the rest of the night in a motel and when I got up the next morning I rented a storage unit and a U-Haul truck. At four I showed up at the house expecting that Ripley wouldn't be there, but she was. She came into the bedroom and sat on the bed and watched me box up my clothes. Nothing was said by either of us for about five minutes and then Ripley said:

"I need to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about. From here on the lawyers can do the talking."

"That's not what I meant. You don't have to talk, but I need to tell you what happened. It won't make it any better and in fact it will probably make it worse, but I have to explain to you why I did what I did."

"I don't really care to know Ripley. What I already know is more than I want to."

"Please? It won't cost you anything to let get this over with. It may make you hate me more than you already do, but it will let me get it off my chest."

I remembered what she had said when she had me dumped on the bed in the spare bedroom and kissed my cheek, "Sorry baby, I do love you and I'm sorry" and I decided to let her talk.

"Go ahead Ripley, you have until I'm done packing."

"Remember a long while back when I brought up the subject of fantasies?"

I nodded a yes.

"You didn't have any, but I had two that I'd had for quite a while. If you would have had a fantasy I might have been able to tell you mine, but you said you didn't and so I couldn't work up the nerve to tell you mine. One of them was to have sex with a black man and the second was to have sex with more than one man. When you said you had no fantasies I let the subject drop. I still had the fantasies, but I kept them to myself.

"A year later I was visiting the Kansas City office. It was a three-day trip and the first night there I had dinner with a half dozen people from the office. After dinner we went into the lounge for drinks and to listen to the live band. I had several drinks and danced with the guys until most of them were gone. It got down to just Phil and me. Phil was a tall good looking black man and I spent a good part of the evening fantasizing having sex with him. Not intending to, but fantasizing. Well, to make the story short, toward the end of the evening he made a pass at me. What the hell I thought, it would only be a one-time thing and I would live out my fantasy. We went up to my room and Phil spent the night. He spent the next two nights also. I flew home knowing that my fantasy had been fulfilled and that it would never happen again and you would never know. It was a fling and it meant nothing to me. It didn't lessen my love for you in any way and if anything it showed me what I really had in you. You were a lot better in bed than Phil."

"If I remember that trip rightly, you called home every night you were there. Are you telling me that you had another man in the room doing God only knows what to you while you were talking to me?"

"He was in the room, but I made him sit over in the chair while I talked to you."

"Yeah, right! I believe that."

"It's the truth and I'm sorry that you don't believe me, but I guess I can't really blame you. Anyway, five months later I was in St. Louis and Phil was there. He had transferred to be near his sick mother. We ended up in my room and after sex we were lying there and Phil told me that having sex with a white woman had always been one of his biggest fantasies. I asked him what some of his others were and he told me that one of them was to have sex with me with one or two of his buddies. Since that was my other fantasy I let him talk me into it. The next night it was Phil and his buddy Tony and the third night it was Phil, Tony and Sam. I loved it. I absolutely loved it and for the next three years anytime I was in St. Louis, usually twice a year, I got together with Phil and his two friends.

"Again honey, it meant nothing to me other than a sexual good time living out my fantasies. I still gave you all the love and affection you could handle and you can't say that you weren't happy with me because I know you were. The trouble started during the last trip. Ralph was returning from a trip to Detroit and his plane had a mechanical problem and landed in St. Louis. He knew I was there and he knew what hotel I always stayed at so he came looking for me. He came into the hotel lounge and saw me drinking and dancing with Phil, Tony and Sam so he took a seat in a dark corner and watched. He saw the four of us leave together and go to my room and he was there to see them leave at seven the next morning. He had a digital camera and he got a picture of them leaving the room with me standing there naked and waving goodbye.

"Two days later he came by my office and dropped the picture on my desk and asked me if you knew about all the fun I was having on my trips and he could tell from the look on my face that you didn't. He then told me that you wouldn't find out from him if he got what he wanted. I asked him what that was and he told me that he wanted what I was giving the blacks he had seen. He said he would destroy the picture if I spent one night with him and several of his friends, but it had to be in our house, on our bed and with you in the house.

"I couldn't let you find out what I'd done with Phil, Sam and Tony because I knew you would react the same way you did last night and I would lose you. I couldn't take that chance. You are my world honey; I love you and I would give anything if last night never happened. I know it is all my fault for getting involved with Phil in the first place, but honest to God honey, it didn't mean a thing. I love you and I've always loved you. I was stupid and I let a fantasy rob me of my good sense, but I need you in my life honey, honest to God I do love you. I know it is too soon to ask this, but I have to while I still have the chance. Please try and forgive me baby. We have a great marriage and I don't want to be without you."

I just stared at her for almost a minute and then said, "That's something you should have thought about before you started spreading your legs for other men. Let me ask you this; I didn't see condom one used last night. How about with your black boyfriends, they use condoms?"

"I was careful. I always had my diaphragm in and I used plenty of spermicide."

"That kept you from getting pregnant. What did you do to keep from catching sexually transmitted diseases?" I saw her face go pale and I continued, "Didn't even think about that or that you could catch it and bring it home and give it to me did you? And what about that shit you used to put it my drink? Did you know for sure what it was or did you just take somebody's word for it? What if I would have had an allergic reaction to whatever it was? What if whoever you got it from said it was a sleeping powder just to get your money and it really had been rat poison? You have been fucking with my life just so you could have some strange cock. No I won't forgive you, not now and not ever. I don't ever want to see you or have anything to do with you ever again."

I turned and walked out of the room leaving Ripley sitting on the bed crying.

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Epilog.

I'm a young man and I like my pussy and I was nowhere near being ready to give it up and go without so Ripley and I are back together. The divorce was final, but we are still seeing each other for the mutual benefit of sex. Unfortunately Ripley is the only one I can have sex with. Not talking love here, just sex. Ripley turned up HIV Positive and when she did me the courtesy of letting me know I went and had myself tested and found that she had given me the gift also.

I never did take my revenge on the seven assholes that fucked her in my house and on my bed; Ripley did it for me. She gave the gift to every one of them. If I could find another HIV Positive woman I'd leave Ripley in a heartbeat, but I haven't found one yet. Ripley keeps pushing for us to move back together, but so far I am fighting it. I can tolerate her for as long as it takes me to get my rocks off, but other than that I can't stand to be around her. Too many bad fucking memories.