The Goose and the Gander

My take on the 'Honey, we have to talk' theme. While this isn't a real BTB story, the wife does get pretty steamed. As with most of my LW stories, there is very little sex in this one. If you want a story to JO to, read some of my stories in other genres.

Legal shit: All persons engaged in sex are over the age of 18. This is fiction, so that means: 1. This is not based upon any actual person -- living or dead. 2. Any similarity to actual events is purely coincidental. 3. Reactions and decisions of the characters are what I want them to be, not what you think that they should be.

OK, after finishing writing this, perhaps there was a small conflagration where some burning took place. Sorry, I just write where the story takes me. Don't tell me that this would never happen. Emotional people do some very strange things. Never bet against a pissed off person creating carnage.

Goose, Gander, all that Shit

"Waahh, waaahh, waaah." Is all I was hearing. You know, like the adults talking in the Charlie Brown movies. Yeah, my hearing of actual words stopped about 5-minutes ago. Now, the sounds I was hearing were beginning to become drowned out by a roaring as the blood was rushing to my ears in severe anger. I felt my knuckles getting white as I began clenching my fists that were laid on the table. Staring at my wife's face across the table, I could see her mouth moving as she was attempting to explain what she had just told me, but I was no longer actively listening to her.

Perhaps I should start from 15-minutes ago. I had just walked in the door after getting home from work on a Friday evening. I was looking forward to grabbing a beer and settling down to begin enjoying the weekend with my wife. Well, you know what they say about 'Best Laid Plans'. I actually did get the beer. My wife had it sitting on the kitchen table for me as I walked in the door. As for the rest of my plan? Not so much. Then, there were the dreaded five words.

"Honey, we need to talk."

OK. Before getting into the meat of this story, I should probably tell you a bit about myself and my wife. My name is Robert Bader (no relation to a former Supreme Court Justice). I'm 28-years old, have a good job working for an IT consulting firm. I have a master's degree in computer science. I'm 5'11" tall, weigh approximately 205, lbs., brown hair and eyes, and keep fit by daily visits to the gym and a 5-mile early morning run. I have been told that I have a handsome face as well.

My wife's name is Idella, but she typically goes by Ida. She's two years younger than me, 5'5" tall, curvy, but in shape. She hits the gym about three times a week. She has blonde hair down to just past her shoulders, blue eyes, toned legs, and ass to die for, slim waist, and 34D breasts. Yes, her face is very pretty as well.

We met at a party in college. Her name at the time was Idella Masters. She was getting her bachelor's degree in accounting, while I was already a year into my master's degree. We had hit it off right from the start and dated though the rest of college. We were married about a year after graduating. I should mention that she sometimes would neglect to fully consider all of the ramifications of some of her decisions. This was especially true if there was something that she really believed that she wanted. Case in point: She had a bit of feminist in her, so she didn't want to just blindly take my name when we got married. She was insisting that she wanted to do one of those ridiculous hyphenated last names. You know, where it is her maiden name, then a hyphen before the husband's last name. Something like Scott-Pruitt, or Rodham-Clinton. You get the idea.

Whenever I tried to discuss this with her and tell her what a supremely bad idea that was, she would get defensive and accuse me of being misogynistic and trying to take away her identity. She would throw out other women who did it and were very successful. She would talk about several of her friends that did it without any problems. She would rant on and on about how the patriarchy forced the women to take on the last names of the husband as a way of subjugating women. I tried to explain that was not the case here. I had no intention of trying to subjugate her. Finally, I just sat her down, wrote out the hyphenated name, and had her read it five times. Then, if she still wanted to use that name, I would not object any further. Ida Masters-Bader. The idea was suddenly dropped, and she dropped her maiden name for my last name. I did tell you that she is a natural blonde, didn't I?

So, here we were. We had been married for almost five years. We didn't have any children yet, but we were beginning to start working on it. We were talking about starting to get her pregnant on our fifth anniversary that was just over two months away. She has issues with the pill, so we always used condoms when we had sex. Our plan was that the night of our fifth anniversary would be the first time without condoms. It was going to be a special night for us.

Now, that brings us back to the beginning of this sad tale. Beer in hand, sitting at the table across from my wife, five dreaded words spoken, and my rage was building.

"I just want to try something a bit different for a month or so before we have children. I need to get all of this out of my system before I have to settle down and become a mother." Ida tried to explain.

"So, let me see if I have this straight. You want to go out and date other guys while still married to me? You want to party and fuck other guys, completely trashing your vows of forsaking all others? And you want me to be OK with that? Are you out of your fucking mind?" I almost screamed the last sentence out.

"Look. It's only for a month or so. I need to get these last oats sown, and then we can have our special fifth anniversary night just like we planned. Once this little blip on the radar is over, I can settle down and be the loving, faithful wife for the rest of our lives."

"Not just NO, but HELL NO!"

"Robert, I've already made up my mind on this. This is something that I need to do. I'm not asking your permission. I'm just letting you know up front, so I don't cheat on you."

"Seriously? How is fucking other guys not cheating?"

"It isn't cheating if you know about it and it is out in the open. It's only cheating if I try to hide it and run around behind your back. That's not the case here. That's why I'm telling you up front before it happens. Besides, it won't be every night. It will probably only be Friday or Saturday nights, then I will back home in the morning. We will still be making love a few nights a week, and I will make sure that I am cleaned up before I come home after my dates. You will never have to worry about sloppy seconds."

"Oh, I'm sure that I will never have to worry about sloppy seconds, because I will not be touching you after the first time you go out on one of your dates. Where did this stupidity that you're spouting even come from, anyway? What in God's name planted this moronic idea in your head in the first place?" I was pretty sure I knew where this was coming from, but still thought I would ask.

"Well, I've been talking to Suzie about our plan to begin our family....."

Suzie! Of course. "You mean your four-time divorced coworker Suzie? The same Suzie that cheated on all four of her ex-husbands? You are seriously taking marriage advice from her?"

"Well, she said that I really needed to get everything out of my system before we started a family. This way, I could really relax and be a great mom and faithful wife without having any regrets about anything that I might have missed out on. Also, she suggested that these experiences with other guys would help in our own love making by teaching me some new ways to give you pleasure. This could open us up to having an even better sex life." She enthused.

Well, it was blatantly obvious that she was going to go through with it, regardless of what I said. I tried a few more arguments but was shot down each time. OK. Time to bring out the big guns.

"It is blatantly obvious that you are going to go through with this, regardless of my wishes. So, when are you planning your first date?"

"I don't really have a date lined up yet, but Suzie and I are planning to go out clubbing tomorrow night."

"OK, but I'm warning you that if you try to bring anyone that you pick up here, it will end very badly."

"Oh, I would never disrespect you like that. No, we would either go to his place, a hotel room, or, possibly back to Suzie's place."

"Alright. I am in no way giving you permission, and I will not agree to any of this, but it is clear that my opinion has no bearing on your decision. That being the case, I will not be touching you while this is going on. Also, be warned that this could have drastic results to our relationship. You may not have a place here when you decide to come back."

"What do you mean by 'when I decide to come back'? I told you that I'm not going anywhere. This is just one or two nights a week. We'll be together the rest of the time."

"No. I will not allow that. If you are adamant about this, you will move out to do this. I don't care where you go, but you will not be living here while you are going out and fucking other guys."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is my home too. You can't just kick me out."

"Actually, I can. Don't you remember that this house actually belongs to my parents? They gave it to me just before we got married. It is MY house. Maybe you should go live with Suzie."

Things were frosty for the rest of the night and the next day. She tried to make me sleep in the other bedroom, but I insisted that the bed was just as much mine as it was hers, and I was going to sleep there. If she didn't want to sleep in the same bed as me, she was the one that would sleep somewhere else. We pretty much avoided each other the next day as well.

At about 8-o'clock, Ida came downstairs in her LBD, stockings and garter belt (no, I couldn't see the garter belt or tops of the stockings, but I recognized the look) and 4-inch heels. Her hair was done, make-up on, and her 'night on the town' jewelry. The only thing that she had in her hands was a small clutch.

"Forgetting something?" I asked.

"No. I have my phone, wallet, and ID. I think that's all I need." Was her reply.

"What about suitcases, clothes, make-up, toiletries, etc.?"

"I'm only going out for the night. What do I need all of that for? I'll be back before morning."

"Actually, you won't. As soon as you walk out that door, I'm changing the locks. I told you that you would not be living here while you insist on this stupidity."

"Don't be ridiculous. I know that you love me enough to let me do this."

"Well, obviously you don't love me enough to not do this. You walk out that door, you aren't coming back in."

Just as she was about to reply, a car horn sounded from the driveway.

"That's Suzie. I have to go, but we will talk when I get home."

What she didn't know was that I had installed some hidden apps on her phone while she was in the bathroom getting ready. I could now track her location, read her text messages, record her phone conversations, hell, I could even activate her microphone and camera without her knowing it. In fact, I activated her mic as soon as she left the house. It was recording her conversation with Suzie as they were driving. I would listen to it later. Right now, there was work to be done.

First order to business, replace the door lock with the new ones that I had bought earlier in the day. Next, move her car out of the garage and reprogram the garage door opener and remove her remote. Third, pack up all of her clothes, toiletries, and make-up into the boxes that I had gotten earlier.

Two hours later, I had all her stuff loaded into her car. Now it was time to listen to her conversation with Suzie.

"God, he is pissed."

"Well, I did warn you about that. He'll be pissed for a week or so, but he'll get over it. Just make sure that you really fuck his brains out for the next few days. Once he sees how much better the sex is, he'll start to accept the situation. Guys are like dogs. You can get away with just about anything as long as you reward them properly. The proper use of the vaginal wrench will adjust their attitude to whatever you want."

"Yeah, I just hope this guy that you are setting me up with doesn't leave me too sore to give Rob a good fucking tomorrow night."

"Just make sure you have a nice long soak in the tub tomorrow. That should relieve any soreness. Now, take off your panties and leave them in the car. You won't need them tonight."

[Giggle] "I would need to actually be wearing panties in order to take them off."

"You little slut."

"Takes one to know one."

They both laughed.

I should probably describe Suzie here. She is a 5'4" sexual dynamo. She has long flaming red hair down to her ass, emerald green eyes, angelic face, 38DD tits, an ass sculpted by about a million lunges, slim waist, and the morals of an alley cat strung out on Ecstasy. All four of her marriages have ended in divorce because of her cheating. This was impressive, because she was only 26-years old. Seriously, who gets divorced four times before they even turn 30? No, I never tapped that, but it wasn't because of the lack of opportunity. She had made it more than clear that I would be welcome in her bed any time I wanted. I should also mention that this was not the first time that she had tried to talk Ida into doing something phenomenally stupid. Usually, it tended to involve us in some kind of threesome or more with her. So far, I've managed to avoid all of them.

I listened to a bit more until they arrived at the club. Trying to listen to anything in the club was a lost cause. There was simply too much noise to hear any conversations that were going on. Instead, I began doing some online banking as I watched her GPS position. I took half of the money in the checking account, paid off and cancelled our joint credit cards, Moved our entire savings into an offshore account that I had set up a couple years ago, and transferred about 70-percent of our investments into a separate account in just my name.

I noticed that the GPS location on Ida's phone was moving, so I opened the mic on it again. Sure enough, Ida was talking, and I could hear an unknown male voice talking to her as well.

"Oh, my phone is going off. Hold on. [rustling] Hi Suzie. What's up?"

S: "Hey girl. Did you leave with that hunk you were dancing with?"

I: "Yeah. We're heading back to your place for some private time. I hope you don't mind us using your spare bedroom for an hour or so."

S: "No problem, Babe. I'll probably be there shortly with his friend as well in a little while. Have fun."

I: "I plan on it. I'll need to shower after we're done so I can go home afterwards though."

S: "I figured as much. I put some shampoo and body wash in the spare bathroom for you."

I: "K. Thanks. See you later."

By this time, I had turned her camera on to see if I could get a look at the guy she was with. I only got a brief glimpse of his as she was putting her phone back. I wasn't overly impressed. About all I could tell was that he looked like he was in his late 30's, black hair that was thinning, and, based on his height as he was sitting, quite a bit shorter than me.

I shut everything off as they were still driving. When I saw that they had arrived at Suzie's place, I reactivated the mic and camera. I continued to listen until I heard them begin to move away from the phone location. That simply would not do. I needed her to have her phone in the same room so I could get audio evidence of her cheating. Video would simply be too much to hope for.

I: "FUCK!"

(unknown Male): "What's wrong?"

I: "That's my husband's ringtone."

UM: "So? Ignore it."

I: "Can't. I'll make it short and get rid of him."

I: "Hi Sweetie. What's up?"

Me: "Where are you, Ida?"

I: "I'm at Suzie's. We're just relaxing for a bit, then she's bringing me home. I'll be back in a couple of hours. We just put on a movie."

Me: "OK. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't getting into a bad situation."

I: "I'm fine. Stop worrying. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Me. "OK. Goodbye."

She must have had a bit too much to drink, because she never even noticed that I didn't use any terms of endearment or tell her that I loved her when I hung up. She also didn't recognize that I said 'Goodbye' at the end. Miraculously, she actually took her phone with her into the bedroom. I guess it was because she was walking there as she was talking to me. Even better, she set it up on a nightstand leaning up against a lamp. The camera had a pretty good view of most of the bed. I'm pretty sure that I would never be able to use this in court, but that really wasn't my concern at the time.

I watched enough of the video to ensure that they were actually having sex, then minimized the window and let it record. Well, if she wants to go out and have sex with other guys, I saw no reason for me to just sit at home getting blue balls waiting for her to return. You know the old saying -- goose, gander, and all that shit. Fuck her bullshit, I'm going to go out and get laid too. More than that, I'm going to rub it in her face.

I spent the rest of the weekend doing projects around the house and working on an old truck that I was building up. I have a 1972 GMC pickup that I got cheap a few years ago. I've been working on it for a while now. I put in a built up 350 engine, replaced the old 3-speed manual transmission with a Borg-Warner Super T-10 4-speed manual transmission, 12-bolt Posi-traction rear differential, Leather bucket seats, and a matte black paint job. All that was left was to finish installing the steel braided lines to connect the engine to the fuel, radiator, and vacuum fittings.

Work kept me mostly distracted throughout the week. Also, since I didn't have to deal with Ida in the evenings, I was able to get the truck finished and ready for the road. I had also been in to see a lawyer and began preparing divorce papers. There was really no way out of giving her half of everything. Divorce laws in this country must have been written by hard core feminazis. Let's face it, if you have a dick, you are screwed in the divorce. Cheating pays for women. The poor innocent husband who has been faithful and done nothing wrong ends up paying the slut to keep fucking around. There is only so much that a guy can do to protect himself.

So, Friday evening rolled around. My truck was cleaned and ready for an evening out. Showered, shaved, just a bit of cologne, I got dressed. I put on a nice new pair of Levi's, black button-down dress shirt, and my rattlesnake skin cowboy boots. It was time to treat myself, so I went to a nice steakhouse for dinner to start my evening. I'm not gonna bore you with the details, but the T-bone, loaded baked potato, and vegetables were all excellent, as was the salad to start.

Now, for the main event. Leaving the restaurant, I checked Ida's location. Sure enough, it looked like she and Suzie had gotten to the club about half an hour ago. Time to put my plan into action. I had every expectation that this would completely piss Ida off. I couldn't help but grin as I parked a couple of spaces away from Ida's car. It looked like she was the designated driver tonight. That made my plan a bit easier, since I wouldn't have to worry about Suzie leaving her stranded. Not that I was in any way worried myself. It was mainly that I was concerned that it might be a tad more difficult to get Suzie to leave with me if she had been driving. I wasn't completely sure how comfortable she would be leaving her car keys with Ida. With the plan set, as well as a Plan B in case Suzie somehow developed a moral or two, I strode into the club. It wasn't hard to spot them.