Protecting the Wife Ch. 02

"What did he want?" I asked.

"What do you think he wanted!"

I was dejected until Helen said,

"Nothing much happened."

Helen said that it was clearly Omar's intent to pickup with her where he had left off, but Helen's legal skills had come into play. She had succinctly outlined what rape was, what rape kits proved, and what penalties could result from a conviction after an expensive rape trial.

She said that he still addressed her as, "Mrs. Buckley," but that he kept muttering "slut" under his breath a lot. She felt uneasy and threatened, and she began to think that he wasn't going to be deterred, so she switched gears and told him that she had found God, repented, and that she was going to renew her marriage vows. She reminded him that it would be adultery.

I told Helen that I was impressed with her wits and that I was proud of her. She said,

"It almost worked."

I was detected again.

When she had mentioned repenting, Omar had put his hand on her shoulder and pressed down. He said,

"Let's pray."

Helen said that she didn't believe him, at first, and that it looked more like he was going to want a blowjob, but he knelt, bowed his head, put his hands together, and said,

"You start."

Helen began adlibbing some prayers to buy time. Omar put his hand back on her shoulders and then slid it down to her butt. She reminded him that she was praying and he stopped, but soon she felt his hand moving up her inner thigh. He practically goosed her, and she fell forward and he immediately got on top of her. He was fumbling to get his cock out. The praying wasn't working, so Helen said,

"It would be adultery if you screw me, but maybe I can give you a hand job."

Without waiting for an answer, she unzipped him, pulled his cock out, and gave him the best handjob she could. I said,

"Oh, honey ... I don't know ... "

Helen said,

"Trust me! You don't think I know what men want? I've been jerking cocks most of my life. You were right about Omar -- he's not as pure a Christian as he says, he's mostly a horny motherfucker -- literally. I knew that if I could get him to cum it would take the pressure off and he'd leave."

"Did it work?"

"Look at that," and she pointed to the rug in front of the television as if it would prove her point.

I didn't see anything on the rug, but the television had a dried streak of something on it.

"The television?"

"No, the ... oh! I didn't see that!"

Helen tried to rub it off with her fingers.

That brush with Omar left Helen feeling uneasy that even one neighbor might have seen a young man coming and going from her apartment. She was very concerned about her reputation. (I thought that was ironic.) She didn't trust that Omar wouldn't come back. Helen decided to buy her way out of it. She reduced the price on our house, and we upped the offer on the new home. Helen had at least one more visit from Omar (that she told me about) and this time she gave him blow job to keep him happy, but we closed escrow within the month and then she was done with him – I hoped.

Helen and I were never happier in our new home, new jobs, and new relationship. I still knew that it was within her character to cheat and not to tell. I knew, too, that my punishment of her had been more enjoyable to her than not. I knew that she liked to act like a slut, but that she just didn't like to be thought of as a slut. I wished I could say that our fantasies were satisfied, but in all truthfulness, after years of being cuckolded, I was kind of resigned to the fact that Helen wasn't just acting out her fantasies, this was her lifestyle. I began to recover a sense of complacency, and I thought: If we keep it private, then it's nobody's business but our own. I kinda wished Helen had kept her past private from me, too, but that notion was soon dashed. Helen told me all when she told me of her telephone call with Katherine.