Summer A Marriage In Trouble

I nodded, swallowing the huge lump that sat in my throat. "That's right. Apparently, it is an overnight trip."

She screwed up her face. "Are we going?"

I snarled. "I have been given no choice. We either go or I have to find another job."

She rasped disbelievingly, "I am sure he didn't say that."

"Whatever, we are going, you better buy a box of condoms, you're going to need them."

"Christ, don't be so vulgar."

That night in bed Summer didn't wait for lights out. She came in just after I climbed into bed. She made a big deal of stripping off naked. She sat at her makeup dresser and combed out her glossy hair, went through her moisturising regime before sliding in naked beside me.

"Artie, could we talk for a few minutes?"

I nodded, but noticed her reaching for her laptop from the bedside cabinet.

"Hon, I want to talk about what happened between me and Ross."

"Go on then, spit it out."

"What I want to talk about is you."

"What the hell has anything I did got to do with what happened?"

"This goes a little deeper than just that night."

I sighed, trying to figure out where this was heading. "Okay, get to the point."

She swallowed hard before hesitantly saying, "It's about you as a person, your personality. I mean I have always known you have a submissive streak You are timid, shy uncertain."

"What has that got to do with anything? I might be shy, but since when has that been a crime?"

She flinched as my voice hardened. "I don't mean it like it's a bad thing. I love you; I always have." She opened her laptop and started to search for something. "Hon, I think that you are submissive, you've always been an introvert, god, I think you border on being neurotic sometimes. Shit, all the jobs you have had; your managers all had the same complaint about you. They described you as, timid and unassertive. It's why you get passed over."

Some of what she said rang true. I never saw myself as timid. Shy, introverted, maybe passive, but not submissive.

She turned the computer so I could see the screen. "Read this, keep an open mind."

As I read, she continued to talk. "Hon, Ross and I have talked a lot recently. Mostly about you. He said it was obvious from the moment you started working for him that your personality was plain obvious."

I pulled it onto my lap and sat up to see better. It was a series of articles about submissive men, husbands, as it were. The articles were all from supposedly prominent therapists and psychologists. They highlighted the traits of what they described as submissive men. There were a couple from sex therapists, who delved into the sexuality of what that meant.

I read quickly, scanning the obvious bullshit.

As I got to the last article she said, "Does any of that ring true, Hon?"

I shrugged. "I suppose. But I don't see myself as submissive."

She batted her eyes as she whispered hesitantly, "Sorry, but I do. I think the word submissive sums you up. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, we just have to be honest about it, talk about it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. What has this all got to do with anything?"

"Hon, if you can admit that you are submissive, it means we can explore what that means and where we go. Ross is the exact opposite to you; he is the confident and assertive, perhaps overly so. I think that is why I was so attracted to him."

I spat back angrily. "Confident my arse. He is nothing more than an arrogant bully. That doesn't make him anything more than a condescending bastard."

"No, Babe, he is a natural leader, and a very aggressive one. I admit that night when he started making a fuss over me, it was overwhelming. A man of his status and position interested in me overpowered me, I felt compelled. He explained some of this to me. It all makes sense."

I sneered. "Bullshit, he is playing with your mind. He is brainwashing you."

"No, Hon, I think it's true. I think the only thing that is getting in the way is what these articles all call male pride. You are scared about what people would say about you, how they would see you. You are also worried about how I see you. Hon, being submissive isn't a bad thing. I don't care, I love you the way you are. We could make this work."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snapped. "Christ, Summer."

"What I am getting at is, if you can accept that you are naturally submissive, then we could include that in our playtime. Ross likes to take control, lead, he could be what has been missing from our relationship."

"Missing, what... You have confused me. Are you saying that the sex was better with him?"

She grimaced and thought carefully before answering. "Yes, the sex was good. Very good, in fact. It's not that I don't enjoy our sex life but, Ross is different. He is forceful and physically stronger. He didn't try to make love with me, he just took me."

"And that was better than what we share?" I asked bitterly.

She flinched again, I guess she picked up on how badly her words had hurt me. "I wouldn't trade it. But I did enjoy it. It's what we lack, you are a wonderful caring lover, our sex is great. Think about it. Ross and I see each other occasionally. It wouldn't have to interfere with our relationship."

"You see him, and then come home to me... I sit here at home and wait ever so patiently until he doesn't need or want you anymore. Is that how it would work?"

Sighing deeply, she spluttered. "No, I mean I would see him occasionally. If you opened your mind it could be exciting for both of us."

I sensed it coming, so I jumped in. "BUT?"

She tried to hide her grimace, tried to turn it into a teasing smile. "Hon, I'm not going to lie to you. The sex was great; it was good to be just fucked. He didn't force me, he was powerful, strong and so commanding. I like that occasionally."

"Well, if he's so good then just marry him. We will be divorced soon, anyway."

She lifted the laptop away. "Hon, I love you. I don't want a divorce. I think if we could use this knowledge, we could improve our relationship."

I laughed outright. "You think me letting you fuck Ross is going to make our marriage better?"

She smiled, her hand rubbing my chest slowly, gently. "Yes, I do, actually It would be like Yin and Yang. It would require you to open up, and to be honest with yourself. I think if you could be totally honest with yourself, you would enjoy it. I mean, have you thought about it at all? You must have, what we did, how we did it, surely you must have pictured it... imagined it."

"No, I haven't. The last thing I need in my head is images of you with him."

"Perhaps we should talk about that?" Her hand continued its delicate caress. "Babe, I could tell you all about it. Describe it in detail, in fact, I would love to. There's lots of stuff in those articles about how we can enjoy this together."

I sucked in a deep breath as her hand continued south. Her hand curled around my shaft, fondling the twitching flesh. "I could tell you how he felt, how he tasted, what he felt like."

Those few words made me shiver. I brushed her hand away. "No thanks, Summer. It doesn't interest me."

She sighed sadly. "Artie, you are just scared, Babe. I think if we could just experiment a little, let me talk to you about it, you might change your mind. Put aside your pride. What does it matter if I had sex with another man? It's just a physical thing, like getting a massage from him because he is better at it than you."

I grimaced and stiffened at her words. "Oh yeah, every man wants to hear about how the guy you just fucked was better than him. Jesus, Summer, don't be ridiculous."

I rolled over facing the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets up.

She sat for a while and I heard her tapping away on her keyboard before she turned off the lights.

She snuggled against me, her armed draping softly over my waist. "Artie, make love with me, please, Babe. I'm sure if you would let me into your world, we could make this work."

Her hand snuck around to grab my cock. "Please, Babe, you are punishing us both."

"Summer, I'm not interested. Go to sleep."

She wriggled, nestling in closer, moving her hand from my cock. "You're being silly, though, punishing yourself. Why not at least enjoy our time together.

As we drifted off to sleep, I wondered. 'Is that what she really thought of me? Some kind of guy who gets off on watching his wife have sex with another man? It was with a troubled mind I fell asleep.

At some point during the night, I was roused from the depths of sleep. You know what it's like when have a very lifelike dream. It was so real, so damn intense. It was like the wet dreams of my youth. My cock was slipping into boiling soft jelly. Encircled by soft velvety flesh, hot, wet, caressing.

The dream felt so real, like the best blowjob I had ever received. My hands naturally fell to grab my cock and became entangled in soft silky-smooth hair. I felt a head moving slowly, seductively, up and down my pole. Christ it felt like I was going to burst.

I gripped her hair tightly as the lips around my cock tightened, moved faster, sucking, gulping thirstily at my manhood.

Then movement, my cock cooling quickly. A body moving over me.

I woke up just as Summer lowered herself down on my shaft. I jerked uncontrollably as I sank into her well of moist warm flesh. I glanced up, my eyes adjusting. "Summer, what are you doing?"

"Shush, Babe, you want this as much as me." Her body slid up and down, her slippery hole squeezing me as she rode me."

Her breath was hot and moist as she panted roughly against my neck. "Fuck me, Babes, fuck me hard."

Every time she slid down, she ground her pussy against my pubic bone, using me as a tool for her own pleasure.

The ride to the explosive orgasm was fast and furious. Her writhing body crying out as she came, and I erupted moments later.

She collapsed on my chest, "Oh god, I needed that," she whimpered. Her lips crashed on mine and our tongues played gently as we regathered our senses.

When I woke in the morning, she was wrapped around me like a blanket.

As my eyes opened, she wriggled. "Good morning, Babe. Thank you for last night. It was amazing."

We kissed sleepily before I climbed out of bed to get ready for work.

The day was busy, not working for Revington's but collecting data and sending it to Michael. I pushed into meetings and dug up what I could find. It wasn't too hard to see that Reynolds was in over his head. I'm no financial wizard, and I didn't have all the information, but I could see he had filtered all his resources into winning this bid. People who were being billed against other contracts were actually working on the tender. He needed more people, but from what I could see He couldn't afford it.

Reynolds was in a grumpy mood. When he suffered, we all suffered. He took out his irritation on everybody.

Part of my responsibility became IT. Not really my specialist field, but hey, do what you're told and keep your head down. I didn't really know Lye, the senior IT tech, very well, but I organised a meeting with him. We met at the central desk which had all the project info spread across it.

We shook hands and I asked, "What is outstanding? Where can I help?"

He gave me a grim nervous look. "I understand you are a friend of Michael's?"

His words shook me. "Yes," I replied hesitantly as I glanced nervously around the office.

He smiled before whispering softly, "So am I."

We talked about the project and what was outstanding. He told me that he was deliberately letting some things slip. I asked, "Are you sending all the info to Michael?"

He nodded and he handed me a disc. "It's all on there."

I wandered away uneasily. Christ, what we were doing was so wrong. It certainly didn't sit well with me. I tried to convince myself it was his own fault; he was getting what he deserved. Still, it wasn't right and I knew it.

That day I met Michael for lunch. Since talking to Lye, I fought with my conscience. I was almost ready to pull the pin. Michael was already there when I arrived. As I sat at the table, I started to outlay my concerns.

He sneered. "Fuck him, Arthur. He is getting what he deserves. He is going to get fucked for a change. I am going to drag his arse over the coals. He will wish he had never fucked with my family."

"Yeah, but what about all the employees? They are going to get screwed, as well."

He sipped his beer, thoughtfully glancing at me. "Arthur, you're a nice guy. Don't worry about the employees. I am working with another company that wants to buy him out. His problem is he owes so much he won't be able to fight it off. He is going to lose everything. The workers, though, will all be safe. At least the good ones. The guys who enjoy playing his twisted games are going to get fucked, as well."

I walked away thanking my lucky stars that Michael wasn't mad at me. Sheesh, the depth of his wrath knew no end. He was deep into his revenge.

That night at home Summer was again on her game. The dinner was sumptuous and delightful. The girls were bathed quickly and shipped off to bed. We talked a little that night and my anger had really eased. In bed, she wanted to continue where we left off last night. She was passionate and urgent. We made love twice.

I started to think, maybe I have been too hasty. Maybe I should think about my actions. If she would forget about him, promise to never cheat again, maybe there was hope?

Damn, my mind was in a turmoil. The weekend and the early part of next week flew by. The boat trip was never mentioned, not until Wednesday night. I could see Summer had been shopping. There were bags piled in the dining room. After dinner I asked, "What's in the bags?"

She gave me a coquettish smile, her eyes teasing. "Well, I decided I needed a few things for the cruise in the weekend."

"What sort of things?"

She rushed over to the bags, lifted them onto the table and extracted a small bit of flimsy material and waved it in front of my face. "First, I got this bikini, isn't it wonderful?"

Shocked I snapped, "You can't be serious... There's more material in a handkerchief."

She giggled snidely. "Don't be silly, it's not the dark ages. Lots of the women will be in bikinis."

"Summer, I work with all those people. You are not parading around in that. You're not a fucking stripper."

She was taken aback by strength of my exasperation. "Honey, it's a bikini. All the women will be wearing something similar."

"They might, but you won't be. You are my wife and I will not allow it."

Dismayed at my reaction, she pushed it back in the bag and pulled out some casual dresses, a couple of flimsy tops. At least they didn't display her whole body.

She had one other item. A burgundy crushed velvet cocktail dress. When she held it up, I was shocked at how short it was. "Christ, that is short. Everybody would be able to see your panties."

She giggled. "Yes, it is a bit short. But I love the colour. Isn't it wonderful?"

I shook my head. "If you were eighteen and a slut, it would be perfect. Summer, you are a married woman with two young children. Dressing like that is going to make you a laughing stock. Many of the women are older and will be dressed more demurely. You need to take that into account."

"So now you want to control what I wear?"

"You did say you wanted me to be more authoritative."

She sighed. "No, that's not what I said. What I said was you need to accept who you really are. Not try and be somebody you aren't."

She collected the bags and disappeared to the bedroom. We did make love that night and she was in a particularly demanding mood. She took control, which I didn't usually mind, but since our talk, she tried to force the dominance aspect.

With me laying on my back she ground her pussy on my face. She ground it down forcefully as she rode my face like a bronco. With my face covered with her sticky goo she climbed aboard my erection and rode me slowly whispering. "Would you like me to tell you about Ross and I?"

"No," I grunted, trying to enjoy the feeling of her velvety love tunnel milking my cock.

"Are you sure, Baby? I could tell you about what he felt like. How he fucked me. What he tasted like."

It irritated me so much that she wouldn't let this go. I was sick of hearing it.

"I said no, Summer. If you want to finish this, then shut up."

She grimaced. "Babe, if you just opened your mind. You might find you like it."

That was it. With a quick shove I pushed her off. She went flying. I saw the look of shock on her face. She ended up lying beside me staring back. "Summer, I said I didn't want to hear that garbage."

She rolled away saddened and disconcerted. "Artie, you're missing out, Babe. If you would just open your mind, this could really be fun."

It was Thursday night after dinner when she ended any thoughts, I had of trying to sort shit out. It all exploded after dinner. The kids were fed, bathed and in bed sound asleep. We were relaxing in bed. She hit me between the eyes with both barrels. "Artie, we need to talk about sleeping arrangements for the cruise."

Wary, I asked, "Why? I'm sure we will get our own cabin. One of the guys said it's a pretty big boat. Enough cabins for everybody. We will not have to share."

She smiled thinly, her mouth twitching at the corners. "You will have to."

"I will have to what?"

"Share."

"Sorry you've lost me." I grumbled.

"Artie, you are going to have to share me. I know Ross wants me to spend some time with him. Maybe not sleep together, but he definitely wants me in his bed."

I felt like I'd been slapped with a hunk of wood. "Are you suggesting you would climb out of his bed and come back to ours after he was finished with you?"

She grinned. "Don't say it like that. Think about how sexy it could be."

"Sorry Summer. After the last few days, I was hoping that maybe you might have put all the shit behind us. I was going to suggest we try counselling or something. However, if you think having sex with him is acceptable, then I think our marriage is definitely over."

She wasn't going to let go that easily. "Artie, Babe, I have been trying to open your mind, get you to let go of your fears. I wanted to prepare you for this. Show you how much fun it could be."

Gobsmacked doesn't really sum up my reaction. I just stared at her. Seeing my expression, she tried to explain. "Artie, this could be a powerful weekend for us. If you go with it and get involved, it could be good for us."

Curious, I asked. "And just how would I get involved?"

She sniggered as her hands caressed my body. "Well, you could help me get ready, you know, before I go to see him."

Her hand curled around my cock. "You could pick out a nice negligee, some stockings, even. Maybe help me shave my legs."

Her lips nibbled on my ear. "Then when I get back, we could make love. You could enjoy the feeling of being inside me, knowing he had been there only minutes before."

"You could lick my pussy while it was swollen and wet. Don't you see babe, it could really be fun."

I snorted derisively. "And you think that would be fun for me?"

"Yes, imagine it." She smiled sneakily. "Think about it, when I'm in his cabin, you could be imagining what's happening, what we are doing, is he licking me, am I sucking him. Is he fucking me? Imagine how hot that would be."

I smirked. "Fucking hell, Summer. You think that little of me? You think that would be fun? The mere thought disgusts me."

She tried to start again, but I waved my hand, pushing her hand off my cock. "Stop right there, Summer. Don't say another word."

"Artie, if you don't go along with this you could lose your job."

"Fuck, who cares? If you are trying to scare me it's not working. He can shove his job up his arse."