The Husband is Always the Last

“You drive safely,” she admonished. “I want to see you here in three days, and I want you to be in one piece. Goodbye, my love!”

My mind was flying in a thousand directions at once, as I grabbed my luggage, hugged my parents and tried to find words to thank them for all they had done. With their good-byes ringing in my ears I drove off. The next three days are a blur in my memory. All I remember is the long, seemingly endless road, which stretched out before me.

When I arrived at my destination, I spotted a police car sitting beside the road and stopped to ask how to find the street where Mattie lived. I made another quick stop at a phone booth and called her. I told her I was in town and that I would be at her house as soon as I could find it. She said that she had run into strong opposition from both her parents, when she told them that I was coming and that we were going to get married. Her father was at work. She was glad that she had answered the phone because she wasn’t sure what her mother would have said to me. She told me that as soon as she hung up, she would tell her mother that I was on the way to their house.

It took me about thirty minutes to find the house. I was surprised when the door was answered by Mattie’s father, who had come home from his job, especially to talk to me. He said that he wanted to talk to me alone, man to man, before I saw Mattie. I told him I wanted his permission to marry his daughter, but he said that he thought we should wait, because a college courtship was not something that was solid enough to base a marriage upon. I told him that I had the means to support Mattie and that I would be buying us a home in the near future. He was adamant in his refusal, saying he didn’t know the first thing about me.

“Daddy,” Mattie said coming down some stairs, into the living room, carrying two large suitcases. “I am of legal age, and I’m quite capable of making my own decisions. I am going to marry Roy, as soon as we get a marriage license, and we get the waiting period over. I’ve already set everything up of four days from now. I can either go with Roy now, or I can stay here until then, but I am going to marry him.”

“Four days?” her father puffed. “I can’t get things ready with the church in four days.”

“I have arranged for the ceremony,” she informed him, “everything is ready.”

“What? No, the pastor would have called me, if you had.”

“Daddy, I love you, but I have to go my own way. When I was away at school I joined another church. Since I’ve been home, I’ve gone to your and mom’s church, but it isn’t right for me. I’ve talked to the pastor and his wife, of the church I belong to now, and I have everything arranged for Saturday at 1:30 p.m.”

The news about changing churches did not set well with her father, but Mattie was about to back down. In the end, when her father saw that there was no way to put a stop to things, he grudgingly gave us his permission to be married. She took her suitcases upstairs, and when she came back down, we went in search of a marriage license.

A few days later we were married. My father was my best man. I was glad to have my folks there to give me support. Just before the ceremony, Mattie introduced me to her sixteen year old sister, Ruth, who seemed very happy at the prospect of gaining a brother-in-law. While neither Mattie’s father nor her mother was hostile toward me, I thought that they were still a long way from being friendly. I suppose I should have expected their reaction given the way everything had happened. When they asked me where we were going to go for our honeymoon, I told them that we would just head out and see if we couldn’t find somewhere special. I knew better than to tell them that I had a room for a week in Las Vegas. I had a fairly good idea what their reaction would be to their daughter being led into the vices of Sin City.

During our honeymoon, Mattie surprised me by wearing an extremely sheer, deep blue, see-through night grown, which made her look like some sort of sex goddess. The material was so thin that it looked like a blue mist flowing around her. I called it the “honeymoon gown” and from that day forward she would wear it for special occasions. While the original “honeymoon gown” eventually wore out, due to usage and time, she was able to replace it with an identical item. Down through the years, anytime that Mattie wore that gown, I knew that she had hot, heavy, and intense love making on her mind.

While still on our honeymoon, we decided to start our business in Mattie’s hometown. I knew that she was feeling very guilty about her parents’ reaction to recent events. She told me to give her folks time, and they would come to love me. While I seriously doubted that my in-laws would ever do more that barely tolerate me, I didn’t want to alienate them any further. I had to admit that her hometown had a lot of opportunities for a consulting business, such as we were planning.

When I received my money, we bought a small house, rented an office, and bought the equipment we were going to need for our business. We knew that we had our work cut out for us. We had to prove to the world (and to ourselves) that we could stand on own two feet. Our business didn’t take off overnight; it required a lot of hard work. For most of the first year, it began to look as if one of us might have to take a corporate job, in order to make ends meet. However, during that year, we were able to pick up a few regular clients, who were pleased with our efforts. As time went by, our reputation began to attract attention. Things really began to take off, during the first half of the second business year, and soon we had to hire a small staff to meet the rising demand for our services.

Two years after we were married, it became apparent to us, that our future looked fairly secure. We began to seriously consider starting a family. Both of us wanted children and neither of us could think of a good reason to put things off any further. The end result was that Mattie was pregnant by April. Mattie was incredibly beautiful, as she progressed through the pregnancy. I remember one night, as we lay in bed, she was pressed against my back and I felt the baby kick for the first time. I actually jumped out of bed. She thought something was wrong with me, and when I explained, she couldn’t stop laughing for fifteen minutes.

Our son Jeff was born that December. There is nothing so invigorating or so terrifying, as being a father for the first time. The delivery was a time of sheer terror and guilt for me. There Mattie was in obvious pain, which I certainly played a significant role in causing, and my mind was flooded with a thousand thoughts, about every possible thing that could go wrong. At that point, I began to have doubts about the wisdom of having children; however, nothing went wrong. My dark thoughts dissipated as my son came into the world. The look of total joy, upon my wife’s tired face, when she saw our boy, lit up the entire delivery room.

Now that she was a mother, Mattie decided that her place was in the home. She would still help with the business, whenever it was necessary for her to do so, but she felt that her role was now one of homemaker. I hated to lose my business partner, but Mattie had her heart set stepping into her new role as full time wife and mother.

I had joined a health club shortly after we bought our house, and after having the baby, Mattie started going. She said that she wanted to drop the extra weight that she had gained. I had to give her credit; she stayed with it and in a short time was slim, trim, energetic, and looked better than ever.

Two years after the birth of our son, we decided that it was time to have another baby. We approached the task with enthusiasm, and Mattie soon announced that our efforts had been rewarded.

At about this same time Mattie’s sister moved to another city. Ruth was now twenty years old and had been living at home, while she finished her junior year at the local college. For reasons that I never discovered, she decided it was time to move elsewhere.

I would always start my days, by getting up before dawn and jogging a few miles, before taking a shower and getting ready for work. After I finished work, I would go down to the health club, to workout for an hour or so. One of the reasons that I had picked that particular health club, was because it had an area that had a heavy bag, a speed bag and a boxing ring. I’d go in do some exercising, punch some leather, and sometimes do a little sparring. The sparring wasn’t too intense; the men didn’t have much experience in the ring. They were just ordinary guys, fresh from work, who wanted to do something to take their minds off the stresses of the day. One day as I was hitting the big bag, I heard a deep voice, over in the direction of the ring, doing some complaining.

“Aw, come on,” the voice boomed. I turned to see a big guy holding up the sparring gloves, “won’t anyone get in the ring with me?”

“I’ll give it a go,” I waved at him. We had to find one of the trainers to call time and to referee. While we waited for him we donned the mandatory headgear, put in our mouthpieces, and put on the gloves. The rules were simple and designed to keep anyone from being hurt. Anyone who wanted to spar had to be certified fit by a physician. A trainer had to be present, and both participants in the ring had to obey the commands of the trainer. Failure to obey the trainer would result in being banded from sparring. The trainer would stand outside the ring and call the start and finish of each round. In addition, the trainer would make sure that only the regulation striking part of the glove was used. There was a three round maximum for each sparring session, with each round lasting three minutes with a one minute rest period in between rounds.

When the trainer showed up, we entered the ring and the big guy came over and thanked me. He stood good four or five inches taller than I was, and he must have out weighed me by fifty pounds. He appeared to be in good physical condition and didn’t have much in the way of excess fat around his belt line.

From the start of the first round, I could tell that my opponent hadn’t had a lot of experience in the ring. His stance was poor, his movements awkward, and he focused solely on trying to hit me in the head. He threw a couple of hard punches, which I easily dodged. I knew if the guy hit me, it was going to smart. I decided to negate his size advantage by getting inside his arms, where his punching strength would be less. I dodged a couple of more punches and moved in closer to him. In close like that, his body was my punching bag. I let my hands go. He tried to move away, so that he’d have more room to punch, but I slid over to his right side, pressing in against his right arm. In that position, he couldn’t hit me with his right, and it would almost impossible to hit me with his left. I kept moving and by the end of the round I could tell he was getting frustrated.

The second round followed the same pattern, but in the third round he finally managed to clip me. I caught most of the blow on my gloves and rolled with the punch. I decided, at that point, that a good defense was a hard offense and dodging punches I moved in close. Up until that point, I had been pulling my punches, but now I let my hands go. I hit him with a hard left to the liver and followed with a right to the midsection. By the end of the round we were both breathing hard and ready for the showers.

“Hey,” the big guy said to me when we got to locker room and offered me his hand, “I didn’t say it out in the ring, but thanks a lot for the workout. My name is Dave Madden.”

“I’m Roy Wells,” I smiled shaking his hand, “I was glad to do it.”

“Man, you sure can move. I tried to knock your block off, but I was all in when that last round ended. I guess I’m not much of a fighter.”

“You just need a few pointers, Dave,” I told him as we walked to the showers. “If you want, I can show you a few moves that should help you.”

“I’d really like that.”

While we were showering, I couldn’t help but notice that the size Dave’s manhood. It was enormous. I’ve taken a lot of showers in a lot of gyms, and I’ve seen a lot of naked men, but Dave’s organ was the largest I had ever seen.

When we were back at our lockers we started dressing, and I was explaining some moves that Dave could use to improve his ring skills, when couple of other men walked by and laughed. One of the men pointed at Dave’s mammoth penis and shook his head.

“Is that thing for real? You must tear the girls up. Man, you ain’t human—that’s a donkey dong, if there ever was one.”

“Idiots,” Dave growled as the men walked away.

“Just ignore them,” I advised.

“Guys like that, have been saying that sort of thing to me all my life. I hated it when I was a kid in school. I got into a lot of fights back in those days.”

“Don’t give them the satisfaction of letting them know it bothers you. You must have a lot of female fans. Hell, those guys are only jealous. Most men would give an arm and a leg to be built like you.”

““No matter what you may have heard or read, bigger isn’t always better!” he said with emotion. “I guess, maybe some women are turned by a big man, but I fall into a whole other category. When I was younger, a lot of women would get up and leave when they found out what I was hiding in my pants. Those gals that I did manage to get into bed didn’t come back for seconds. You see, I go way up inside a woman. I hit places that shouldn’t be hit. I would get all excited and ended up causing more pain, than pleasure to my lovers. It wasn’t until I met my wife, Cindy, that things changed. She wasn’t afraid of me, and she took the time to explain that I needed to practice some self control to ensure that we both enjoyed sex. I guess it must have worked, we’ve been married three years now, and we’re going to have our first child.”

“That’s great!” I capped him on the shoulder. “My wife is pregnant too. I’ve have a great idea, how about you and your wife come over to our house for dinner this weekend? The wives can talk about babies, and I can show you some of the things that you were doing wrong in the ring.”

“I’ll check with Cindy, I’ll give you a call later this evening and tell you if she has something planned or not. There is just one thing; I can’t slug it out with you any more.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve got this rule; never hit a friend—and in your case I’m adding; never get hit by a friend. You pack a quite a wallop!” We both laughed and shook hands again.

Dave and Cindy came to be our best friends. Over the years we, we have built some wonderful memories together. We’ve gone out on the town, camping, to the beach, to parties, and helped each other out a thousand times.

Cindy had her baby (a girl) on October 17th, and Mattie brought Amy into the world a month later on November 26th. Dave and I thought that the girls deserved a special night out and arranged to celebrate New Year’s Eve at one of best nightclubs in town.


Mattie looked fantastic that night. She wore a new black dress that accentuated the darkness of her eyes and hair. Cindy also looked terrific, when we picked her and Dave up (I was the designated driver) at nine o’clock. The white dress that Cindy wore highlighted her blond hair and blue eyes. Together the two women were the embodiment of day and night.

It was a great night. Our table was next to the dance floor, which allowed us easy access and provided a perfect vantage point to watch the festivities. The girls were determined to have a good time. They just about wore Dave and me out, dragging us, time and again, out onto the dance floor. As the night went on I noticed that the girls were out drinking Dave. The more they drank the more they wanted to flirt. Cindy pulled me up to dance, while Mattie grabbed Dave. When we returned to the table the girls began to trade sexual innuendos with each other’s husband. It was all in good fun, but it was certainly out of character for Mattie.

At midnight, I ordered champagne all around, before leading Mattie out onto the floor to dance way the old year. A minute from midnight all the dancing stopped and countdown to the New Year began. At the stroke of twelve, confetti, paper streamers, and balloons fell from the ceiling. I pulled Mattie close and kissed her as the band played Auld Lang Syne. She pressed herself against my right thigh and reached between by legs to caress my growing erection. I put one of my hands on her buttocks and shoved her tight against me. Mattie was certainly full of surprises that night.

We returned to our seats where I made a toast for a fortunate coming year. We stayed about half an hour longer before calling it a night. Both of our wives walked out of the club on unsteady legs. By the time I dropped Dave and Cindy at their house, Mattie was out cold in the seat next to me. I couldn’t wake her up when we reached our house and ended up carrying her in and putting her to bed. I had to laugh. I had seen Mattie drunk, but I had never seen her reach the point where she had totally passed out. It was a good thing that the kids were staying with Mattie’s parents for the night, because she was going to need some time to recuperate in the morning.

It was two weeks later, that I made one of the biggest mistakes of my married life. We had gone over to Mattie’s parents and were sitting around after having a great dinner. Over time, I had started to feel a little bit more relaxed around my in-laws and thought, that they were coming to accept the fact, I wasn’t going to disappear. Mattie’s mother had just finished telling a funny story about Mattie’s childhood, when I opened my big mouth and told them how intoxicated Mattie had been on New Year’s Eve. I thought it was humorous and never saw the warnings that Mattie had been trying giving me. No more had I closed my mouth, than both her folks started in lecturing us, about the evil of liquor and how alcohol had destroyed many marriages. They said that they were very disappointed with me, but they said they were even more disappointed with Mattie, because they thought that she had been raised better. Needless to say, the rest of our visit was not pleasant, and a short time later we managed to do our best to make a graceful and repentant getaway.

The chewing out, which I had received from Mattie’s folks, was nothing compared to what I was hit with once we were in the car. Mattie stopped screaming only when she saw she was upsetting Jeff (Amy was sound asleep), and then she broke into tears. She spoke in hushed tones, interspaced by sobs, asking me how I could do something like that to her. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise and finally gave up trying to explain myself. When we reached home and put the kids to bed, Mattie led me into the living room, where the screaming began again. I had never seen Mattie so mad. It was a good three weeks, of flowers, cards, and apologies, before I was able to work myself back into her good graces.

For a long time afterward, I was on my best behavior when I was around her parents. However, all of the good feelings, which I had been building up toward my in-laws, had vanished. Gradually, as the years passed, my good behavior started to disappear, and I began to take subtle verbal jabs at my in-laws. Mattie was constantly reining me in and more than one argument occurred between the two of us, due to some remark I made to her parents.

Perhaps, one of the things that helped to get me out of the dog house was our move into a new house. With the birth of our second child, we had outgrown our home, and we started giving some serious consideration about finding a bigger place. We looked for several months, before deciding upon a house, which was about twice the size of our original home. The new place had an attic, four bedrooms upstairs, spacious downstairs (including a study), and a basement. Moreover, it was just across the street from a tree lined park, which had a large play area for children.