Honey I have a Question for You

"Honey, I Have a Question for You"

Lead in: college professor wants to expand her body of knowledge

It's just a short little light hearted exercise. Well, mostly anyway. Don't get your panties all wadded up.

Characters:

Tom Dempsey, husband and history buff.

Marie Dempsey, wife and college professor

Derrick "Snake" Prescott, Lounge Lizard

Shelly Kingman, slut

Story:

A married couple, Tom and Marie Dempsey aged 62 and 55 respectively, were having a typical quiet evening at home when out of the blue Marie asks Tom,

"Honey, what would you think about me having an affair?"

"I would be against it."

Most people would think that quite an odd question, but for my wife it wasn't really. You see Marie and I have been married for over 35 years and many of our conversations would seem random to most folks.

But Marie, who by the way is still a really sharp looking lady in her mid 50's with a bust size that draws looks from both men and women of all ages, is a college professor. In addition to teaching different philosophy related courses she instructs a very well attended course every semester on human sexuality. In fact the HS course usually fills up the allotted spaces within 15 minutes of being released.

We have a pretty open view on sexuality as compared to most, and to this day have frank discussions of our sex life, fantasies, and needs on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong, we are monogamous and devoted to each other. It's just that we aren't embarrassed about sex. Still, this was a little different?

"What would you say if it was with George Clooney?"

"We are talking about the actor, right?" I haven't stayed married for 35 years by being a complete moron!

"Yes."

"In that case, that would be fine."

"Oh goodie!" She clapped her hands together gleefully.

"What?" My head snapped up sharply.

"Oh don't worry honey, I've never met George Clooney and wouldn't even know where to begin to find him. But, it does lead into my next question."

I was becoming a little concerned at this point, but, like most husbands I did not yet understand the quagmire I was stepping into here.

"If I did have an affair with George Clooney, how would you really feel about it? I'm being serious here. Everyone jokes about the celebrity fidelity exception, but I really want to know how it would make you feel."

At this point I relaxed a little because I assumed the information she wanted was related to her sexuality course, a new semester just having begun last week.

"Honestly Marie, I would need to think about it. I'm not really sure how I would feel?"

"You go ahead and think about sweetie while I go refill my coffee cup."

See that's code for "you don't get to go to bed until I get a satisfactory answer."

Well, stuck as I was, I did think about it. I decided that truthfully I would be angry and hurt by her actions if she chose to sleep with George, but on the other hand, would a celebrity hall pass be worth throwing away a 35 year marriage over? Marie has been a terrific wife, mother, and partner, so yes I think I could get past it.

When Marie returned, she had that "your time is up" look that all teachers have as she sat and looked at me awaiting my response with anticipation.

"Well Marie, I think truthfully, I would be very hurt and somewhat angry with you. I guess that would be especially true if you did it behind my back. Even if I knew about it in advance, I would still be very hurt by your actions."

"Yes, of course, but would it end our marriage?" She queried solemnly.

As I was still taking the exercise seriously, I thought for several moments and thoughtfully replied, "No I don't think it would end it, but it would really damage it."

She absorbed the information considerately, but from her body language I could tell we weren't done yet.

"What if the affair was with Derrick Prescott from my department at school?"

Without hesitation I immediately and unequivocally stated, "I would shoot you both in the head and happily spend the rest of my life in jail!"

I know most of you are thinking well that should pucker her cute behind up! Ah, but you don't know Marie like I do. She was completely composed.

"I see dear, well what's the difference? I wouldn't be doing anything differently with Derrick than I would with George? And, if you knew about it up front?"

Now you're thinking, "Oh, oh Tom's in trouble now." Never fear, I am an old hand at this marriage thing.

"Darling, that's an easy one. There are several things actually, but the fundamental difference is that with George I would be offering you a once in a lifetime intimacy with a larger than life figure that few women would ever experience. Although, if the celebrity rags are correct, more women than you would imagine, have experienced it."

Marie nodded in a scholarly way and actually placed her thumb and forefinger on her chin to help her absorb the information.

"Whereas in Derrick fucking Prescott's case, I've seen that scumbag in action with you at the holiday mixers I've attended over the years. You remember our discussion a few years back about you and him and the mistletoe incident? He has wanted in your pants since I can remember. He's drawn to your breasts like moths to a flame. He's twice divorced, I wonder why? You are not ignorant of my feelings on this man which to me, would mean that you were deliberately trying to publicly humiliate me in front of our friends and coworkers."

Marie started to object, but I placed my palm in the "talk to the hand" position and never stopped my dissertation. "Come on now Marie, you couldn't believe that snake in the grass would keep your rendezvous secret would you? He'd be sending out blow by blow accounts, so to speak, on his social media accounts as they occurred."

I was rolling now. "If you fucked Derrick Prescott it would be nothing but a betrayal of the worst kind on your part. And, while I might not really shoot you in the head, our marriage would unquestionably be over!" I finally stopped and took a breath.

"Thank you honey, your input as usual has been very helpful to me." She got up patted my hand and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm off to bed then. Will you be coming up soon?"

"Yes dear, as soon as I finish this chapter."

"What are you reading now anyway, you have seemed quite absorbed in it for days?"

It is a fascinating book written in the mid 19^th Century by a man named Josiah Gregg. It is called The Commerce of the Prairies. It is his treatise on how trade was conducted along the Santa Fe Trail in the early to mid 1800's. The chapter I am reading now is about why some traders of the day preferred mules over oxen to pull their wagons." I shared enthusiastically.

"Well, I can see why you're so excited about it. Good night dear."

Don't worry I saw her roll her eyes as she said it. Some people just can't appreciate the nuances of history.

I wasn't really worried yet but I did chastise myself for allowing her to once again drag me into these types of conversations. I also understood that this wasn't over yet. I know how Marie's mind works. It reminds me of the time we were taking a long weekend getaway and I told Marie she could only take one suitcase. As we were getting ready to load the car and leave the next morning, here comes Marie with both our children helping her, dragging her grandmother's old Saratoga Steamer Trunk to our mid size SUV. Marie had a "cat that ate the canary look on her face" as the three of them loaded it into the back. I swear the springs on the car bottomed out when they finally forced it inside. As punishment for my lack of specific direction, I had to drive with my little overnight bag under my legs on the floor in front of my seat.

Nothing was said about it the following morning as we both completed our routines and headed off to work. Later that evening after dinner, one that I prepared by the way, we were once again sitting side by side in our comfortable wingback chairs in the reading room, engrossed in our respective books.

I know this sounds like a boring life to many of you, but for us it was a very intimate time together. Even when the kids were young and quite the handful, they quickly learned to not disturb Mom and Dad's time in our reading room.

I had just concluded that I too would have chosen mules over oxen, when Marie put her book down onto her lap.

"Dear, I would like to discuss further our talk from last evening."

I wasn't upset, as I said I knew it wasn't over yet.

"To expand on our discussion further, what would your thoughts be if I told you I wanted to have an affair with a woman, say specifically Candace Bisbee?"

I snapped my book closed immediately. My final decision on mules versus oxen could wait! She definitely had my attention now. You would have to know Candy as her friends call her, to understand my piqued interest.

"So you wouldn't be sneaking around behind my back? I would know about it up front? Maybe even be involved somehow?" I questioned hopefully. Yes, yes I should have known I was walking into a trap, but well, you've never met Candy. I was distracted by some very impure thoughts and was calculating the odds of me ending up in a threesome with Candy and my wife. Oh come on, don't act so morally superior. I am a man and well come on! Okay, okay I know the likely outcome of such an experience would be me having a fatal heart attack, but still?

"That's correct Tom. The same circumstance as with George and Derrick."

I didn't need to think about it as long as last night. "I don't know how upset I would be, but I know whatever problems I had with it would be reduced commensurate with the amount of involvement I had in it!" I was suitably proud of and not just a little hopeful of my response.

She gave an even more exaggerated eye roll than last night. "I see. So your views on fidelity are more about how much you would be threatened by my actions than any puissant moral stance on the issue?"

Ouch, her right cross to the chin hurt. I stuttered a bit then thought better of opening my mouth right then. The odds of me digging myself a deeper hole were just too great.

She sat and just looked long and hard at me while tapping her foot against the chair leg, waiting for a response.

I decided the best tack was to just face the real issue head on. "Marie, why are you so desperate to have an affair with that snake Prescott?" Hah! Take that will you.

"Well sweetheart, they do call Derrick "Snake" but not for the reasons you think."

It took me a few moments to comprehend what she said, but I did get it. I know, I know you guys got it immediately, but like I said I was distracted. I sat there dumbfounded.

She finally took pity on me and continued. "Sweetheart it wouldn't really be an affair. It would really be research for my Human Sexuality courses. I think the experience of me having a really large member would broaden my body of knowledge on the subject matter."

My throat was dry and my head was spinning.

Come on honey, we both know that your objections are based more on your fragile male ego than anything else. And I want to assure you that Derrick is no more a threat to our relationship than George or Candy would be. It's going to happen anyway no matter how you feel, and it will happen next weekend. I will leave with Snake, I mean Derrick on Friday afternoon and return Sunday evening none the worse for wear.

She was speaking to me as if I was a wayward child now. "Come on Thomas, you know you aren't going to divorce me. One weekend of research then everything is back to normal. I would even let you tell me more about the mules versus oxen debate when I return.

"Well Marie, I don't own you and I guess I can't stop you. But if you do this, it is something that can't be undone. Never mind our relationship; it will define what you are for the rest of your life no matter what happens to us. You are right, I would certainly not shoot either of you, but as for our marriage I'm not sure." I was trying to remain calm and civil.

"Think about what this would make you in the eyes of your peers?" I realized instantly that this statement was a mistake because all of her fucking peers had probably already "sampled" that bastard.

Marie, do you remember the story I once told you about the beautiful socialite at the upscale cocktail party? She was having a conversation with a handsome stranger when he suddenly asked her, "Ma'am if I were to give you a million dollars would you sleep with me?"

The socialite was shocked but thought about it for a minute and responded, "Well yes, I guess I would."

"Would you sleep with me for ten dollars?" He asked earnestly.

"Of course not, what do you think I am? She said in a huff as she began to walk away in a huff.

"We've already established that ma'am, now we are merely quibbling over price," he called after her.

"Everyone Marie and I mean everyone will know what you are if you go ahead with this. I will say no more on the subject. You will do what you feel is right."

And I didn't say another word to her about it. Things were understandably frosty around our house for the remainder of the week as you can imagine.

Unfortunately, I think Marie's stubborn streak was going to win the day. She didn't try to talk with me about it anymore either. "Well dear, I'm off for my experience with Derrick. Please don't worry about it, our relationship will be fine. Anyway, what are you up to while I'm away, something fun I hope? Will you be in the basement working on your model trains?" Marie said in an upbeat way as she kissed my cheek and headed out the door.

Just as the screen slammed shut behind her, I called out cheerily, "don't worry about me dear, I will be spending most of my time with Shelly Kingman!" For your edification Shelly Kingman was the only woman I was aware of that had a larger bust size than Marie. And she on more than one occasion had flirted shamelessly with me in Marie's presence. I then put my head back down and appeared absorbed in my newspaper. Yes some of us dinosaurs still read newspapers.

I heard the screen door squeak as it opened and then softly closed. I looked up and there stood Marie with a "you wouldn't dare" look about her. I smiled magnanimously and folded my paper and stared right back at her. She didn't say a word but started taking off her sweater. She then timidly began walking back towards the bedroom. She did stop long enough beside me on her way back up stairs to snipe, "you know that bitch's tits are store bought, right?" then continued on her way to unpack.

This outcome reminded me of the old joke about the farmer who sold what he claimed was a talking mule to a carnival showman. Now the carney wasn't an idiot and he had the farmer demonstrate the mule's ability. The showman was convinced he would make a fortune and happily paid the farmer. About three weeks later the furious showman returned demanding his money back from the farmer claiming that despite trying everything, the damned mule wouldn't talk. The farmer walked over to a pile of wood, selected a rather sturdy piece. You know one that would make a good Louisville Slugger and whacked the mule upside the head as hard as he could. The mule immediately began to recite The Gettysburg Address for all to hear. The farmer looked at the carney and said, "Sometimes you have to get his attention first."

I smiled contentedly, unfolded my paper and searched the sports section for the latest box scores. Mules indeed. Game, Set, Match.