Emasculated No More

Writing a story for Loving Wives is exhausting.

This is especially true when most people hate what you wrote.

I'll just put this out there, the ending of my story "February Sucks-The Details Matter" sucked. I know this because several hundred of you told me. Now don't get me wrong, I loved getting comments. The passion and sheer volume of them was unnerving to a newbie, but also appreciated. Most reader comments were thoughtful even though they disagreed with my storyline.

Please know I get it. The ending was definitively not realistic, but, to my credit, it was at least infuriating.

A few readers liked the ending, but they were probably just saying that so as not to hurt my feelings. I will say that I am glad Literotica doesn't have negative voting numbers because that would be embarrassing.

Although I truly appreciated and was expecting comments (good and bad), I was pleasantly surprised that I also got some welcomed personal advice - a lot of good food for thought if you will. Most of it came from Anonymous so I can't speak to the source. However, I am assuming it was well intentioned and for my own good. Given the spirit it was offered, I have been actively adopting the suggestions these past few days. In fact, taking the time to follow up on the personal advice is what has delayed me posting my latest story.

For starters I sat my husband down and told him what a skanky cheating slut he had married. He acted surprised, but I assured him it was true.

I also got my kids in for DNA and genetic testing because I didn't want them to have medical surprises later in life given their real fathers are mysteries (even to me).

And although I have no desire to quit, I figured it wouldn't hurt to put in some extra hours at my day job just to play it safe.

After working through all of those uncomfortable situations, I made an appointment with a psychotherapist to begin the process of deprograming my brain of all its misguided feminist bull shit. During my session, I also asked my therapist what she thought about my obsession with magic dicks. She assured me it was not normal and strongly suggested I stop dwelling on them. She suggested she and I continue to work together to turnoff all the secret, naughty, make believe thoughts I have that could be construed as unbecoming of a married woman.

Whew. The session was a real breakthrough. I look forward to going back.

With my anonymous reader self-help to do list behind me, I sat down, and recommitted myself to the official and strictly enforced Loving Wives style guidelines and approved narratives. Please know it was not my intent to go rogue. With age comes experience. AmIrite? So now it's time to right some wrongs and get back into some of your good graces because I really don't want to have to change my account name.

My new submission is a BTB sequel to "February Sucks - The Details Matters." Please forgive me if the male banter is lame. I did my best. Also, the plot and characters are a little less developed, but I think you'll enjoy the human carnage and the delicious karma. Note: I think BTB means Burn the Bitch, but I'm not 100% sure. I've only posted two stories so I am still technically a Literotica Virgin and not up on all the lingo. Also, I still have no idea what RAAC means.

I hope you like it.

________________

Jim (MC from "February Sucks - The Details Matter") was directed by the starter to pair up with another single golfer at the community golf course.

"My name is Jim. Nice to meet you."

"Hi Jim. I'm Haim Wiesel." (Inside joke)

Jim involuntarily smirked.

"Is everything okay? Is something funny?" Haim Wiesel indignantly asked.

"Ah...yeah. Everything's fine," Jim snorted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just when you said your name it sounded like you were saying 'I am a weasel' or all blended together like 'iamweasel.' I meant no offense."

Jim inwardly groaned. This guy seems like a bit of a tool, he thought. This might be a long round.

"Hey it looks like we're up," Jim said. "Haim, why don't you go ahead and tee off."

Haim hit his ball into some tall prairie grass.

Shit Jim thought. He sucks.

They eventually found Haim's ball and he played passable golf for the next few holes. At some point on the 4th hole, Haim innocently asked Jim about football and Jim went off.

"Fuck football and fuck the NFL!" he seethed.

"Whoa," Haim replied. "You okay? I didn't mean to touch a nerve. What's wrong? Did Tom Brady fuck your wife?" Haim asked jokingly.

By the look on Jim's face, Haim immediately knew his comment hit close to the mark.

"What the fuck happened dude?" Haim pressed. "You've got to tell me."

"Is it that obvious?" Jim said.

"Damn straight it's obvious. What happened?"

"Tom Brady didn't fuck my wife, but Marc LaVallerie did," Jim admitted.

"You're fucking kidding me," Haim said. "That's some shit. He's was on my fantasy team last year."

"Well you got that in common with my wife," Jim sarcastically replied.

"So what happened?" Haim asked.

Jim relayed the whole story. Haim was mesmerized.

"She just up and left you at the club and never came back?"

"Yep," Jim said.

"That's some shit," Haim replied.

"Yep," Jim said.

"What the fuck did you do?" Haim asked.

"Nothing. We're still together."

"Let me guess -- Kids? Financial ruin? Hate to see her win?" Haim asked.

"Yeah," Jim replied. "I guess all of the above, but mostly kids."

"I feel you man," Haim said. "In fact my slut wife cheated on me."

"Really? How'd you find out?" Jim asked.

"Well, I didn't want to mention this, because it's not something I like to talk about with people I just met, but I used to be in special ops with the Army Rangers," Haim said.

I call bullshit, Jim thought. No way this dude was an army ranger. He's skinny, and barely 5' 6".

"So I know a lot about recon and counter-intelligence," Haim said.

This guys a piece of work, Jim thought. I might as well go along with him and have some fun.

"Go on," Jim prodded.

"Well, one week my wife Judy was acting funny so I secured some sophisticated listening and video devices and I filmed her. I set them up around the living room. Next day I about shit my pants when I got home. She was all over this guy. He fucked her and shoved his dick in her mouth. For two hours he had his way with her, while I was at work earning money so she could eat and have a nice place to live. Damn I was pissed off. To top it all off he did all these things to her in my fucking house." Haim said incredulously. "Can you believe it?"

"Sounds kind of familiar. I don't have anything on film but I got Linda to write some of it down, and then we had this knock-down drag-out fight last Thanksgiving where she told me even more detailed shit that she did," Jim said. "Basically in one night, before bringing her home the next day, he fucked her four times, and got off in her mouth," Jim added.

"Damn. I know you must hate the dude, but you got to admit that's pretty impressive. Ain't no way I could cum five times in that short of a period. I don't care how hot your wife is," Haim said. "No offense intended," Haim quickly added.

"None taken," said Jim.

The two were quiet for a while. Both men were processing each other's story.

Finally, Jim broke the silence and asked Haim, "You two get divorced?"

"Well kind of," Haim answered. "Judy is serving 20 to life for murdering her lover."

"Whoa. That's crazy. What happened?" Jim asked.

"Cops found Judy's piece of shit fuck-boy face down in his condo. Murdered execution style with one bullet in the back of his head. A few days later the cops pulled Judy over after an anonymous tip and found the murder weapon in the trunk of her car. Case closed. The jury deliberated less than 3 hours," Haim concluded.

"Shit. Did she give a statement?" Jim asked.

"Said she was framed. Can you believe it? Well that's what you'd expect a lying, cheating, bitch to say," Haim said. "Truth is, it worked out great for me. She's locked up dealing with her dumb ass decision, and I'm playing golf with you and with no alimony or other ties to her bitch-self," Haim self-righteously proclaimed.

Jim thought about what Haim said for a minute. It was all too neat and clean. It also seemed rehearsed like he couldn't wait to tell people the story. I'm calling bullshit again, Jim thought. He made a mental note to Google Judy Wiesel when he got home. Something was wrong with the story, but damn it was intriguing, thought Jim. Having Linda waste away in the state penitentiary with nothing but her one-night fantasy with her "maestro" would be a dream come true.

The two moved on to other topics as they continued their round.

"Well I played like shit, but it was fun," Haim said out in the parking lot as the two shook hands goodbye.

Haim drove away thinking about Jim and his predicament. He had, of course, lied to Jim, just like he had many times before with others who asked about his divorce. He had made up the Army Ranger Special Ops story and refined it over the years. The story was like a salve for his bruised male ego. It made him feel more manly. He had indeed been married to Judy. But she left him for another man. He never filmed her or even caught her. One minute he's married and the next he's divorced, and she is building a home with another man. The bitterness towards all woman was still strong.

Similarly, Jim could think of nothing but Haim Wiesel as he left the course and drove home. Oh he was sure the whole Judy murdered her lover story was fabricated, but it was still a hell of a story. There was an elegance to it that he loved. He tried it on for size: The lover's dead and the woman he used to love, that he devoted his life to and had children with, was locked up for life with the never-ending mental torture of what she had done and what she had lost. Forgiveness is so over-rated, he thought. It would be much better if the bitch got exactly what she deserves.

An ugly sneer began to slowly emerge unconsciously across Jim's face as he allowed his mind to enter a dark and dangerous place.

Four months later

Haim Wiesel was alone at a local bar. It was Friday afternoon and he had stopped by for a few beers before heading home. Out of the corner of his eye Haim noticed a chyron scrolling across the bar tv screen -- "Local NFL All Pro Marc LaVallerie found dead in his upscale home."

"Whoa! Bartender turn up the TV," Haim shouted.

An attractive local female TV reporter was standing out in front of a large house. Police tape and police cars could be seen in the background. "Details are sketchy, but police have confirmed that Marc LaVallerie was found dead at the scene of an apparent gun shot wound. Foul play is expected and police confirmed to me that they have a solid lead on a possible suspect......."

"Well I'll be damned," Haim. said out loud to no one in particular. My emasculated golfing buddy has more balls than I gave him credit for, he thought.

Well done and cheers, Haim thought silently to himself. "To freedom and justice!" he shouted at the TV while raising his glass.

"To freedom and justice!" shouted every man mindlessly at the bar.

As Haim Wiesel looked around, basking in the glow of the spontaneous male affirmation, the irony that there was not single woman in the place was lost on him.