My Wife Dates a Senator—Alt Ending

MY WIFE DATES A SENATOR - ALTERNATE ENDING

It seems like I can't break away from writing sequels or alternate endings to many of the stories I have read. This is true even though I have about 20 story plots of my own that are waiting to be written. Like many, however, I get caught up in stories dealing with wife-on-a-date, wife-instantly-seduced by athlete or rock star or financier or, in this case, a U.S. senator.

Hooked1957 has kindly given me permission to write this alternate conclusion. Before you read my version, please read his original story at literotica.com/s/my-wife-dates-a-senator. I don't think my version is any better than the original. It's just different.

My original story was taken down a few days after I posted it because I used some of Hook1957's original phrases and paragraphs throughout the alternate version. Even though they were identified as his through the use if italics, that is not permitted by Literotica. So, I have gone back over my original text and removed, rewritten or paraphrased Hooked1957's words.

I have recently stopped using an editor because they were difficult for me to find. So, any mistakes you find after I go through my story half-a-dozen times are mine and were not caught by MS Word. I think I am reasonably proficient at spelling, punctuation and grammar. What I miss by not using an editor is someone else's insight into story organization, plot and character development.

There isn't a lot of sex in this story. If you want surgical descriptions of sex, read someone else's story.

As always, good guys win big and villains get more than what is coming to them.

The beginning of my story picks up well into the set-up described by Hooked1957. Just so you don't have to look up his story first, I have copied it here. All of Hooked1957's original writing is in italics.

Onward...

MY WIFE DATES A SENATOR - ALTERNATE ENDING

Characters:

Reginald (Reggie) Gavin: Architect for pre-fab homes in small, mid-western town

Hester Gavin: Reggie's wife of nine years. Middle school teacher

Elise & Nathan (Nate) Gavin: Reggie's children ages 7 and 5 respectively

Senator Tomas Noberto: U.S. Senator representing Reggie's state

Abigail: Older but very attractive single neighbor of Reggie.

Andrea, Belinda (Bell), Carmen, Roxann (Roxy) and Kate: All single moms

I sure hoped I was getting a bonus for tonight, but somehow, I really doubted it.

I was wearing my dark blue tuxedo for the first time in three years. I looked damn good, if I say so myself, but I really hated to get dressed up to this level. It was Friday night, after all, and I should have been in my favorite La-Z-Boy, sipping a quality single malt. Instead, I was sitting at a table of co-workers and their spouses for a fund-raising dinner/dance for Blessings in a Backpack.

It's one of the biggest social outings of the year in our small Midwest city, and virtually everybody who was anybody in this area was in attendance. My boss bought a table for the event, and both my wife and I were expected to be there.

In fact, I specifically told my wife to buy a new, sexy dress for the evening... and she didn't disappoint. If anything, she might have gone a little overboard on the sexy part.

"Oh, shit, babe. I said sexy, not one step short of escort," I remarked when she came downstairs after dressing for the night.

At 35, my wife was in the prime of her beauty, I thought. Her thick red hair was done up high on her head, and she had dangling gold earrings on to highlight her long neck. The low, scoop-neck design of the silky, maroon dress showed an acre of her voluptuous chest, and the hemline that ended mid-thigh showed off to great advantage all the time she spent at the gym on leg days.

I had expected her to get a gown, but this dress was certainly a statement piece: that statement was "hey, look at me!" I was certainly looking, and I knew every other man would also enjoy the view.

I never minded other men looking at my wife, as long as she remembered that I didn't share my toys. I told her that often enough, too. I wasn't going to leave anything to chance.

While I would have preferred to have been home in my recliner, Hester was right where she wanted to be, hobnobbing with the cream of our city's society. As a middle school teacher, she didn't get much chance to step out very often, but she was one of those natural social butterfly people. She was well-read and witty, and drew people to her like ants to a picnic.

We had done some mingling and had hit the dance floor a couple of times before I went to the bar and Hester went back to the table. As I got within a few feet of our seats, I saw that Hess was talking animatedly to a man sitting in my seat. It was United States Sen. Tomas Norberto, who looked like a Hispanic Tom Selleck back in the day when Selleck was doing Magnum P.I. He was incredibly handsome, single and went about 6-4, 220. More because of his looks than his brains, he was being considered by some for the next presidential race.

I stood a few feet away for a couple of seconds waiting for my wife at least to acknowledge my presence, but that didn't happen. In fact, I had never seen my wife look like an infatuated teenager before, practically making "moon eyes" at the senator as they talked.

Since neither one of them was going to acknowledge me, I did it myself.

"Excuse me, Senator, but that's my seat," I said as I got to my spot with two drinks in my hands.

He completely ignored me some more and continued his conversation with my wife, whose face was glowing. I waited in silence for about five more seconds before I stopped being Mr. Polite. I ran my hand with a wine glass between their two faces, breaking their spell, and put her glass on the table in front of her. I stayed right there almost in between them holding my drink before the esteemed senator got the hint.

"I-I need to go now. I should find my spot at the head table... but I'll be back later to continue this conversation," he said to my wife, effectively ignoring me the whole time.

"Stupid fucker," I grumbled to Hess as I sat back down after he left.

"I find him... fascinating," she responded. "You, on the other hand, were just downright rude... to a US senator, for God sakes."

"You seem to have forgotten that you're my wife, not his, and he was sitting in my spot, and he wasn't moving. That's incredibly rude and presumptuous, even if he thinks he's going to be the next president."

She did that superior eye roll thing that certain women do quite well. I hated it, and told my wife that repeatedly throughout our nine years of marriage. I glared back at her, not wanting to get into it in front of this crowd. She harrumphed, but held her tongue as well.

Dinner took about 90 minutes, then the band started back up and people returned to the dance floor. I knew Hess loved to dance, so I stood up and offered her my hand. She looked at my hand, looked me in the eyes and shook her head vehemently. I stomped back to the bar and got another drink, standing there and making small talk with others hanging around.

I lost track of Hess when she got up to mingle, I assumed, but it was easy to keep track of Sen. Schmuck. With his security guys always in proximity, the senator mingled and glad-handed for the next half-hour before walking out to an outdoor veranda.

I wasn't born yesterday, so when Hess didn't show back up at the table after about another 10 minutes, I decided to check out the veranda. The two of them appeared to be in deep discussion with an older couple, with the senator's arm comfortably around my wife's waist. I walked up to the pair and started to remove the senator's arm before somebody grabbed me and twisted my arm up between my shoulder blades, causing me to yelp in pain and causing heads to turn in our general direction.

"Nobody fucks with a United States senator, buddy," growled a voice behind me as he started to push me toward the exit.

"That's my wife he's got his hands on," I rasped while I was being given the bum's rush.

He shoved me back inside the main ballroom before he let me go. I told him to get my wife and bring her to me unless he wanted me to start getting loud.

"Goddamnit!" he muttered under his breath as he headed toward the senator.

Two minutes later, a red-faced Hess came back through the door. She gave me a palms-up shrug, as if she didn't have a clue as to what was happening. I grabbed a hand and practically dragged her out of the ballroom.

The ride home started out dead silent, but I knew that wouldn't last long. For some reason, Hess was thinking that the best defense was a good offense.

"You bastard! You embarrassed me terribly tonight in front of a United States senator!" she screamed at me.

Until that moment, I thought Hester and I had a pretty good marriage. Yeah, we had our moments like any other couple, but I would have bet my two kids' lives on the fact that we were going to go the distance. Now, not so much.

"You do realize that you are my wife!" I shot back at her. "Nobody, and I don't care if he's the Goddamn president of the fucking United States, puts his arm around you like he owns you. You know that's over the line, yet you didn't do a thing to get out of that embrace. You were like a love-struck teenager with your high school crush."

She blushed and stammered, but ultimately put her head down and didn't respond. I knew I had hit the nail directly on the head. She was definitely infatuated with the man.

If I thought Hess was going to apologize at some point, she let me know I had another think coming. Not only didn't she apologize, but she barely spoke to me for the next several days. Even the kids, despite their being only 7 and 5, could feel something was wrong, and tried to stay out of the room if we were both around. Dinner time was the only time there was any real conversation in the house as we both seemed to be trying to keep communication going through the children.

On Wednesday night, however, after the kids went to bed, Hess said we needed to talk: not can we talk, not we should talk, just we need to talk. Nothing good ever comes from those four words.

Not to be disappointed, nothing good did come from those four words. My loving wife informed me that she and the esteemed senator were going on a date on Friday night.

"It's not a date, really, I'm going to accompany him to another of these fund-raising dinners," Hess said when I questioned her about the impropriety of a married woman going on a date with a man not her husband.

"The sure sounds like a date to me," I explained. "If you are accompanying him, to me that means you are his date... and since you are a married woman..."

"You're a small man with a sick mind!" she wailed back at me. "I would never cheat on you!"

"What do you call a married woman going on a date with a man not her husband? Even if you don't have sex, going on a date with another man is cheating," I claimed. "Would you let me accompany your hot friend Angie out to dinner and dancing?"

She twisted her mouth, grimaced and gave me her squinty-eye look. I knew the mention of her hottest friend would get her attention. She had a definite problem when it came to Angie, who, to quote the Rolling Stones, "could make a dead man come."

"That's entirely different and you know it. That would be a date. This is accompanying a United States senator," she said.

Oh, right. Of course. HUGE difference.

"Look, Hess, you can't date another man, no matter how you phrase it. We're married. We made vows. Remember that 'forsaking all others' shit?" I said.

"You don't own me, Reggie, even if we are married," she harrumphed. "If I really want to do something, I can and will. I'm not your chattel."

Chattel. That's what you get when you marry a crossword junkie.

"You are most certainly not my chattel. But you are the mother of my children, and I would really hate for you to break up our family," I said.

Her eyes got as big as saucers. Apparently, I had gotten her attention.

"You wouldn't be that stupid," she sneered. "This is just a..."

"No, babe, this is a watershed moment in our marriage."

She grimaced again, but didn't answer. I never saw this coming.

My eyeballs about fell out of my head when Hester came downstairs after dressing for her date Friday evening. She was wearing a low-cut, strapless white lace gown that was molded to her lux body and exposed the top half of her large chest. I had never seen the gown before, and assumed it was something she bought just for this occasion.

"Motherfucker," I whispered in awe.

She took my epithet for the compliment it was and did a slow spin. Just then our children ran into the room, saw Hess and just stopped dead in their tracks.

"Wow, Mom, you are beautiful!" exclaimed our seven-year-old, Elise. "Why are you all dressed up like a princess?"

Hess looked from our daughter to me, I guess expecting me to cover for her. Wasn't happening. I just stared at my wife.

"I-I-I can't tell her..." Hester said.

"You can't because you know this is wrong," I snarled. "Explain to your daughter how you're leaving the three of us... your family... to go on a date with a US senator."

"Mommy has to go out for a while to a fancy party," Hess began. "You be a good girl for Daddy and I'll see you guys tomorrow when you wake up."

"How come Daddy's not going with you?" five-year-old Nate piped up.

Hess hesitated while she tried to conjure up a good lie. I didn't need any time to come up with the truth.

"Because Mommy doesn't love me enough," I answered.

Both kids looked at Hess with shocked, hurt expressions. She looked back at me with the same expression.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" I asked.

Just then the doorbell rang. The four of us froze in place before it rang again.

"Moment of truth, babe. Him... or us," I said.

She answered the door on the third ring. I spotted one of the senator's security crew at the door and I saw the black limousine in the driveway.

"Remember, behave yourselves for Daddy. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

With that, she was gone. I guess it was him.

I was in shock for about a minute, then realized I still had kids that needed attention. I would have loved to drown my sorrows in my liquor cabinet, but that wasn't going to happen.

What was going to happen was a couple of Facetime calls, one each to my parents and hers. After all, the kids loved Facetiming with their grandparents.

I started with Hester's parents. We had always had a great relationship, and I knew Hess's little adventure wouldn't go over well with them. We were laughing and joking with them for about a minute when Hess's mom realized her daughter wasn't on the call.

"Where's my daughter, Reggie? Did you stuff her in a suitcase somewhere?" my mother-in-law joked.

"Umm... no, Mom. Hess went on a date with Senator Tomas Norberto. She'll be back tomorrow, I'm guessing," I said quietly.

"What?" my mother-in-law wailed. "A date? Are you sure, Reg?"

"She called it 'accompanying the handsome senator to a fund-raiser.' I call that a date... maybe more," I spit out.

"And she won't be back until tomorrow?" my incredulous father-in-law shouted. "And you just let her go?"

"I tried to reason with her, Dad, but she told me I didn't own her," I answered. "I told her she was abandoning her family if she did this, but she seemed to think this was a forgivable offense..."

The kids then hijacked the conversation for the next five minutes, for which I was thankful. Then my mother-in-law told the kids to go to their rooms for a few minutes, and she returned the conversation back to my wife.

"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," she advised. "Talk to her, Reg. Don't just throw her away. Think of the kids..."

"Like she did as she walked out the door, Mom?"

My mother-in-law could not respond before I ended the call.

My mother, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as charitable when I called my parents and told them what happened.

"I know the name of a good lawyer, hon," my mom offered immediately. "She was Aunt Elaine's attorney in her divorce from Uncle Will. She ate Will's attorney's lunch."

Yeah, that was good to know.

ALTERNATE ENDING...

I was heartbroken at the state of my marriage. How did I never see this aspect of my wife's character?

Apparently, Hester thought nothing of spending the night with another man and expected me, without asking, to give her a free pass, or a marriage time out, or whatever.

That wasn't going to happen.

Granted, Senator Asshole was a good-looking man; well-built, handsome and with lots of charisma. But, I 'm not exactly chopped suey. I'm 5 feet 11 inches tall, medium build, broad shoulders, slim waist with abs... I have a full head of dark brown hair cut short. Looks-wise, I always thought I was streetable and never had problems getting dates in high school and college.

I was starting to think too much about the what Hester was doing at that particular moment. I realized I would go through the entire night picturing her being fucked by Senator Asshole unless I could divert my thoughts to something else—or get blasted.

Thinking of my kids, I realized I couldn't get blasted right away. I need to take care of them. But I needed to take care of me, too. I was juggling a variety of emotions all at once: Irretrievable loss, emptiness, abandonment, betrayal and anger.

I sent Hester a brief text. "You have made the worst mistake of your life." I didn't expect an answer.

Looking around, the house seemed so empty. I really didn't want to stay at home and brood. I wanted to get out and do something distracting—something with my kids.

And then, I had a wild idea. A few years previously, I had purchased four acres of lakefront property at a newly opened section at Lake Margarite, about two-hundred miles north of our home. It was my intention to build a lakefront cabin on the property as a weekend and vacation getaway for the family. The property was almost square with a little more than four-hundred feet of shoreline. A fast-moving stream ran along the southern edge of my land. I had been up to see it a couple of times but, as yet, I had only tentative plans to build on it.

I turned to Elise and Nate and said, "Let's go camping."

Nate was the first to ask, "Where?"

"At the lake where I bought the property for our cabin," I responded.

They both jumped up with excitement and said, "Do you mean tonight?

"Yes," I said, "Tonight"

But Elise, my daughter with the organized mind said, "Isn't it too late to go? It's already after seven."

She continued, "And besides, we don't have any camping equipment."

I responded, "It's still early. We'll go to REI and buy everything we need, load it into the car and start driving. It's about a four-hour drive but you will not notice it because I'm certain you will sleep all the way."

I told the kids to get their backpacks, jackets, extra clothing, best outdoor shoes, bathing suits, etc. I also told them to pack some blankets and pillows to help them sleep in the car. It was Elise that went to the pantry and pulled out snacks to take on the trip. While a lot of this frenzy was going on, I made a large thermos of black coffee for myself. I would need it for the long night drive.