tagNon-EroticThe Aftermath

The Aftermath


It was only a few minutes after my wife's scream that she came down into the kitchen looking like a float rejected by the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I didn't expect such a quick turn around and it actually disturbed me that she wasn't a raving maniac, but she came into the kitchen with an absolute look of defeat on her face. Now I'm worried I went too far. If she came down with a renewed sense of "I'm gonna get you for this motherfucker" I know I still had a wife and she was up for the fight.

I know that sounds crazy to all of you, but you have to know that if someone quits fighting for something then that person no longer cares. I wanted a wife who wanted to fight, for herself, for me and for our marriage. But instead she sat across from me at the kitchen table looking down at her feet.

I knew I had to get her involved again. So I got up and poured her a cup of coffee setting in front of her still wary about her throwing right back in my face; maybe she was playing possum. Instead she gingerly picked it up and took a sip like any other day. Now I was starting to get scared. Just in case I stood between her and the carving knives.

"Thank You honey. The coffee tastes great."

"You're welcome. Are you OK? Do you want me to pack up and leave?"

Her head snapped up looking at me with tears running down her face, "Please God no! I can't live without you. Don't leave me please!" as she threw herself at me again just like last night. I held her tightly talking quietly telling her I would stay. Her crying eventually subsided as I guided us both back to the kitchen table with her sitting on my lap.

"So what happened? A few minutes ago you screamed like a banshee calling me a 'fucking bastard' and know you're acting like your cat just died."

"To be honest, a few minutes ago I had the thought of strapping you down to the bed and ass raping you with the largest dildo I could find." The smile on her face scared me. "But if we don't stop now, we won't have a marriage. I really don't want to fight anymore and after the sex last night, I remembered how you and I matched up in that department. It's been a long time since we have had a sex life and I want it back." She took another sip of coffee, "So what do we do now?" she asked.

I placed a bottle of rinse treatment for her hair on the table in front of her, "First you go upstairs and rinse that crap out of your hair and get your self back to the beautiful looking woman I have loved for so many years. Then we go out to breakfast and talk."

"You mean this mess will rinse right out?"

"Of course. It's essentially nothing more than a strong water color paint. You didn't think I would do anything like this permanently and humiliate you, do you?"

She nodded her head as a new round of tears fell, "After everything I did to you, yes because I know I deserved it."

"Yes, you did deserve it. But we both know this all has to end. This is me ending it on my end. Do you promise me it has stopped on your end?" Again she pulled herself into burying her head into my neck as she nodded. "OK then. Go upstairs and take care of yourself." She gave me a deep hard kiss on the lips, told me she loved me and went up to the shower.

When she came back down she was dressed looking as beautiful as ever smiling hesitantly. She walked over to me, "Thank You for giving me my hair back and I promise, I will make it all up to you."

"How about we start with breakfast and make it up to each other?"

"OK, let's start with that."

It was a short drive to the restaurant. We both had the morning special. The meal proceeded quietly both of us afraid to start the conversation. It's a hell of a thought when you discover you're afraid to talk to your spouse, "Oh hell honey. What happened to us? We're sitting here scared to talk to each other. Why?"

Her eyes agreed, "Maybe we're afraid of making things worse." As tears fell down her face again, "I'm afraid you're gonna leave me. After I super glued your penis to your belly, I thought it might stop your drinking. Face it honey, you hit the bar pretty damn hard there for a while. Yes, you didn't come home drunk, but you went out every night for a week straight while I was at home worrying about you. After the first blow up things were good for a few weeks then when you out again, got stumbling ass drunk and took that taxi home. I had to act the only way I knew how. It helped my dad so I hoped it would help you.

"What do you mean it helped your dad?"

"I've never told you because by the time you and I met my dad no longer abused alcohol. But my dad had a drinking problem for a long time. My mom made multiple attempts to get him to quit, but nothing worked. The last thing she tried was super gluing his penis to his belly. His experience with getting himself unglued was very unpleasant. It knocked some sense into him and he went to rehab. All I wanted to do was to get you to stop drinking."

"If you're that afraid of alcohol abuse why did you go drinking with the girls and why the hen party?"

"The drinking was guilt. Pure and simple guilt. I knew I pushed things too far when you moved out of our bed and refused to talk to me. I self medicated and tried to deaden the pain. I was wrong, way wrong. The hen party I have no excuse for. After you went to the hospital and why, it spread like wild fire and one of our friends heard about it. That friend call others and they all came over to laugh at you with me but as soon as you came home it all ended, badly."

Trying to lighten things up, "Well I'm glad I didn't use the super glue on you because of your drinking. Could you imagine the emergency room doctor's reaction if you had to go in and get undone? Then think about what would've happened and you come home to a room full of men. You would've killed us all and ended the cock party in a bloody fashion." We both seen the humor in that and chuckled.

"I'm so sorry honey. I'm so glad I didn't hurt you and I promise that you will benefit from my continued guilt for many years to come...if you'll still have me."

"I had you three times last night and I'm in no mood to slow down now. I'm not going to leave, so please stop worrying. However we do need to get a few things straightened out. Like why you've been such a bitch to me when you know what kind of hell I've been going through at work. Why didn't you help me instead?"

"That's the part I don't understand. All I know is when you needed me most I failed you and now after you lost your job and I had to start working all those extra hours, I failed us by handling it so poorly. What do we do now? I can't keep going like this. It's just too much. We're gonna lose the house and everything else aren't we?"

"No honey we're not." Time for me to tell all, "Actually honey, I lied to you about the job."

"What? What do you mean? Why would you do that?"

"I wanted you to know what I was going through. I needed you to feel what I've been feeling so you would find your way back to me or at least appreciate me a little more."

"Well it sure as hell worked. Now what is going on with your job?" At least she held her temper.

"I was promoted, given a pay raise and time off so I can recuperate from the shit that bitch of a boss put me through. I actually think the company is trying to save their ass from a hostile work environment lawsuit. Either way we're not going to lose the house. With my raise we've never been in a better place financially. It's just our marriage I'm worried about."

"Maybe we're not as bad as we think. When it all went to shit, instead of running away we stayed and gave each other a major attitude adjustment. That's gotta mean something."

"Yeah, maybe you're right on that point at least. But I can't go back to you using super glue on my dick because I have a drink or me putting some sort of guilt trip on you because you take me for granted. There has to be a better way and I want my wife back the way we were before."

"I'm still here and always will be. Yeah we both fell down when things got hard and did things that didn't help, but we didn't quit on each other. That's the important part in all this."

"OK, I can agree with that. So what do we do now?"

"First you finish your coffee, then we go home, get naked and have some serious make up sex. After, we talk some more. Then more sex. Eventually I want to talk about having a baby, please honey."

"OK. We've talked, next make up sex and then we talk some more. We have to promise each other here and now that we talk from now on. I don't think our marriage can take another round of what has happened these last few months. All I know is I can't"

My wife studied my eyes and I could tell she seen the worry in them. She gently reached up and placed her hand along my cheek and promised never again. I in turn made the same promise.

The rest of the day was taken up with great sex and talking. We did discuss having a baby but only after we both felt we were truly past what happened. Neither of us wanted to bring a baby into our marriage while we still had issues. Besides I still had to get settled in my new job and control myself from over doing it.

We ended up making it through all the rough stuff and our marriage survived. Our baby girl was born 17 months later.


For all of you out there who didn't like these stories, that's OK. I knew it wouldn't be taken well by everyone and some of you have been pretty harsh in your criticism. I'm also aware that many of you disliked how I chose to end this tale. But I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

It's not uncommon for a couple in a relationship to find themselves in a rough spot realizing they have been their own worse enemy. Both have the ability to wake up and do the right thing to save their marriage. That's what I wanted to relay here.

For those of you out there who hated my ending, I invite you to write your own. I especially want you anons to stand up quit bitching and open yourself up to the same consideration you've shown me.

Remember, it's just a story.

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bygldngolfer© 22 comments/ 17947 views/ 16 favorites

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by Anonymous

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by Decal_last03/19/19

If They Can't Take A Joke...

This three-parter was funny, poignant, witty, sad, and real. Little things are the worst enemies to a good marriage. As I approach my 50th anniversary I can attest to going through many good times andmore...

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by Schwanze103/17/19

And this one

sucked even less than the second one. Almost good though I too would have been gone after the super glue.

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by SwordWielder03/17/19

Decent, but...

I do appreciate your story, but I think she went too far between the super glue and the hen party. I would have divorced her.

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