The Narcissist Wife Ch. 01

Disclaimer: fiction

When I met my wife, she came around as the sweet and loving girl every man on earth would want to marry. Often times, the honeymoon stage ends after a couple of months but in this case things had only gotten better.

She always had something cooking by the time I got home from work, she took very good care of our house and she would always go with what I wanted, or at least most of the time. While we could not have children, (her end) she helped me take care of my pets and while I didn't have much of a family, her mother embraced me as one of her own. The going was good.

This all changed 4 years into the marriage. The company I was working at for over a decade had decided to move their facility to a different state, 400 miles away. If it were up to me I would have followed the company. I was clearing 80k a year easily and this was a very specific industry with not a lot of alternatives around. Unfortunately, her mother insisted that we stay around her and I had to give up that great job. The first thing I did was shape up my resume and sent it to several job headhunters. I waited a few days and hoped for the best, but they all came up short. The only high paying jobs available were far away, all I could find were jobs that paid about a third as much as I used to make.

I had to take it in stride and just go with it. The position itself was at least two levels lower and the office was much smaller and the boss unpleasant. On top of that, the hours were very inconvenient, I wasn't off until late at night around 11pm.

That was not the only thing I had to take in stride. My wife. who had been nothing but supportive and loving all these years was starting to act differently too. Since she only worked part time, all of the money we spent came from my end. She had gotten used to all the luxuries she was enjoying like spending hundreds a week on going to the spa and hair salons. Since I worked pretty long hours she would often spend money going to restaurants or going out with her girl-friends. At the end of the day she always made time for me and would have dropped everything if I raised up a concern.

Unfortunately we could no longer afford those things. My worst fear was that my beautiful wife would not hold up to the stresses of life and would seek a divorce. I have read up online that the number one cause of divorce is money issues and it seemed like that data was not far away from the truth.

I also had to consider my wife's mother, whos name was Amy, and who lived just two blocks away from us. She came over to our place almost daily. My wife explained that they were very close growing up in a single-parent household, and that she needs her around to "help" us and give us advice. I thought it was a bit neurotic, but I loved my wife and enjoyed what she was doing for me around the house so I went with it.

Amy was very friendly and helpful. She would greet me every morning with a smile and a hug, and would help cook and clean and even take care of my laundry. I felt like I had it all, and I was quite content with my life

I knew I was in trouble when after a few weeks into the new job, even Amy started to act differently. She stopped saying good morning when she saw me, stopped with the hugs, and anytime she spoke it was only to criticize me and tell me what a lazy husband I am.

A little bit of criticism I can handle, but she got particularly cruel after she had realized that this change in come had become a bit more permanent. Amy grew up in a different country, some would classify it as third-world, and her lack of culture was made up for by her kindness which now quickly evaporated. She started openly criticizing my abilities as a husband and suggesting my wife go look for another man for money.

I had gone through so much personal loss and exhaustion over the past few months that her words left me completely unmoved.

"Fine, maybe she should," I said with tired indifference.

I think it was the lack of personal entertainment and luxuries that put the knife into my marriage. I hadn't realized it at the time, but much of my wife's sense of self-worth came from going out to fancy places and spending money on herself. Without that, she felt she had nothing.

It took a real personal crisis to find out what my wife was really like deep down: A self-serving narcissist. And I am no doctor but I would bet that the apple did not fall far from the tree.

At this point the only thing that was keeping her from leaving me was the fact that prior to moving in with me, she was living with her mother in a cramped 1-bedroom apartment. My house was larger and in a very chic neighborhood. I had inherited it when my grandfather died (my lawyer insisted on a prenup.)

I think that she realized very well that at 35, with average looks and a clingy mother she would not be able to score anything better.

Sadly, that wasn't enough for her. The more nasty judgemental yapping her mother did, the more my wife started to nod and agree until one day she came out straight to me about it.

"My mother is right. You really are lazy. Marie and Stacey next door both are doing a whole lot better than me. their husbands are working hard to give them the life they deserve. You can't even buy me what i need. You don't value my feelings and since you can't man up, i'll have to find a man who can while you work your little go nowhere job. Don't expect me to be around at your beck and call every day," my wife went on.

"Since you can't take care of the family I will have to find other ways to do it," she said with a firm will.

Again, I was feeling so numb that even the fact that she was acting like a total narcissist cunt and was lying through her teeth, that I could have cared less.

She thought she was god's gift to mankind. She thought that hot and rich guys would just line up to do things for her and buy her things. Complete dillusion.

Also what was that deal about "taking care of our family," I thought. The only family I had was her and her now-constantly nagging mother.

Then again, did I really care? Not really. At this point I didn't even enjoy the rare occasional sex with her or even hugging her anymore. I once again took it in stride and just let it go.

Monday came, and after a long and hard day at work, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some food for the family, since at this point we hadn't been able to afford going out to eat in a while. I got home to find the house empty. This was the first time I had come home to an empty house in years. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

The first thing I noticed was that there was no food prepared in the kitchen. In fact the kitchen looked untouched. On the fridge, I found a note she left that said "out with friends, back soon."

"Out with friends?," I thought. Why didn't she let me know? she usually always does. And why didn't she leave me a time when she'll be home? She never did this before and I was starting to get a little nervous.

Then I heard the front door handle turn. It was Amy, my mother in law. she came into the living room and told me that my wife was on her way, with a weird somewhat relaxed demeaner.

Finally my wife came home with some take-out. It was my favorite: Garden Banquet Sushi.

This take-out is very pricey and you can't walk out of the place without paying $100 or more. It is the most amazing fresh tasting food ever, and it happened to be both our personal favorite.

As my wife gave her mother a serving of the take-out food, she looked very satisfied. I asked her how she got the money for this and where was mine.

"I'm sorry hun you can't afford it. I had to work for this myself. I only had enough left-overs for me and mom," she said with a strange smiley grin on her face.

I still felt indifferent, regardless of her subtle body language suggestions, and I found myself a bit aroused by the fact that she was able to bring her own money home and food home.

Halfway through dinner, she said that she wasn't going to eat her leftovers and will let me have it. As I finished it all up, I asked again how she made the money. She came in closer and gave me a kiss with some tongue.

"Oh my god," I screamed on the inside. It all came together. Her mouth both smelled and tasted like another man's cum. I rushed to the sink rinsing my mouth out with water as she stood back giggling.

I turned around and wasn't sure what to say.

"You're just disgusting," I said in a rush.

"Whatever! You enjoyed the food you might as well get a taste of the work I had to do for it," she replied with a smile and giggling.

"Have you been drinking? How did you find a guy to take you out like that?," I asked.

"Since you've made it clear that you are a lazy man and don't care about me, I made a profile on pof last week and I've been getting messages every day since," she said.

"I hooked up with a few of them to see where it goes, but last night was the first time I met a man who spent a lot of money on me, most of them are just putting up a front," she explained, with a sense of self-righteousness and justification that would make street-hookers jealous.

At this point I realized that her mother had gotten deep into her head and there was nothing I could do. No amount of logic or common sense would break her out of the ideas in her mind, and I was not going to fight it.

The weeks passed by, and I kept working at this new place and things at home kept going on the same for a while. I would come home tired and depressed, and my wife would come home happy and energized with another crazy story to tell and more gifts strange men bestowed on her just for her time and attention, and sometimes for sex.

She often times spent all days off work on those dating sites and became less reserved about it. She would leave the page open and run out to meet someone in the middle of the night at times.

When I looked at her dating profile online, it said: "30 year old married, looking to date but nothing serious."

A bit far fetched but a least she was honest about the married part.

Most of the men she dated lived within a mile of us. I could not believe how easy it was for her to find men willing to come pick her up and take her out. Her message page was full and every message was more outrageous than the next.

To my surprise, her choice of men was very diverse. She was talking and meeting up with everyone from 20 year old college guys to 60 something sugar-daddies, using them for all her needs from sexual to financial, and getting away with all of this by calling them boyfriends or dates.

As time passed I started getting used to it. Her shameless self indulgence gave me some well-needed peace of mind for a while so I could keep working and coming home and jerk off in our bedroom without her bothering me as she usually did.

Every now and then that peace would get broken by her bringing a guy over. She explained that some guys really get off on the thought of fucking other men's wives.

The first one of her fuck buddies I met was Mark. Mark was one of those older married guys she had went out on dates with who was completely comfortable treating her as a mistress of sorts, buying her things and paying some of her bills, while at the same time not minding the fact that she was sleeping with other men the rest of the time. Whenever he asked something from her, she would do it.

One day he confessed to her that his biggest turn-on was the feeling of conquering other men's wives. He said this is what drove him and he could not get enough of it. My wife is one of those women who will get to the bottom of your soul by allowing you to open up and then she will have her way with you. I don't think he ever realized this about her. Or maybe he did, but did not care.

She offered to let him come over to our house, without any warning, knowing damn well I would be home.

I heared the door opening, and saw her walk inside, holding an old man by the hand guiding him through the house.

"Uhm. Hello honey. Uh, who is this," I tried to say, stopping halfway noticing that the guy she was dragging with her had a hard-on visible through his pants.

"It's my friend Mark. We're going upstairs for a little while, make sure mom doesn't disturb us, i'll be down in a minute," She answered in a hurry as they were headed for our bedroom.

I knew what was about to happen, but part of me was in disbelief like it was not happening. It all seemed so unreal. My wife who I haven't had sex with in months was about to give herself up to an old nasty man just for some attention and favors? Thoughts were racing through my mind.

There's a stranger in my own bedroom and I can't do anything.

Is she just going to sit there with him? She's not going to blow him, is she? What if she lets him penetrate her?

Should I trust her and just wait? What should I do?

I did the only thing I could, I went downstairs to pour myself a couple of shots, while hearing that humiliating/angering banging noise coming from that strange old man and my wife upstairs. A couple of shots and a few moans later, and it sounded like the noise stopped.

suddenly, another noise. The two of them were coming back down the staircase. He was heading down first, walking slowly, looking sweaty with a satisfied smile on his face, while my slutty wife was walking behind him, in her poorly rearranged miniskirt and stockings. She kissed him on the lip and said goodbye before closing the door.

"I cannot believe what you just did in our house!," I started. "I bought this house before I even met you. I invited YOU to move in when we got married. I worked hard for this place and I am still your husband. How dare you bring this disgusting old guy in my own bedroom?," I said now irritated and feeling humiliated. "What did you do in there?," I demanded to know.

She pulled out a set of keys from off the dresser.

"Brand new BMW. And this was peanuts to him. That car cost almost half as much as our house did. You are a selfish lazy husband. You don't want to do anything for your wife, but the minute I try to "do me." Do something good for myself like meet new people and make smart and successful friends, you get mad just because it doesn't happen the way you want it to happen," she answered with a couple drinks now in her system, just as I had.

"You are trying to 'Do You'," I replied. "Does that include going out with strange men and letting them use you as a cum receptacle to make friends and favors? You never let me fuck you or even touch you. ugh I can see the cum dripping down your pantyhose," I noted.

"You think just because you're my husband and you got us a little house, that this gives you a real man and gives you access to my goddess body anytime you want? No loser think again. If you don't like seeing other men fuck and cum inside your wife, you should have worked harder," my wife went on to say.

"Look," she shrugged, trying to calm me down by lifting her miniskirt up revealing her pussy. "I can tell you've been very jealous and have been wanting to get some of this for a while. I only let Mark fuck my pussy because I had no choice. But since I have to take a shower anyway, why dont you fuck your wife and cum in me too. But make it quick." she explained with a smile.

I looked down at her just-used pussy. The lips were parted and I could see the old man's cum still dripping out. her whole pussy was still soaked in her juices and the old man's cum and I was grossed out but aroused at the same time.

I pulled my pants down and got on top of her. Since she didn't care about my feelings, I stopped caring about hers. I wasn't looking to get her off at all, I just used her like the whore she was getting used to being.

I fucked her missionary style giving her all I've got while she laid there, holding her head up with one hand, and stretching with the other, as if it's just another lay to her. But after a few minutes of that I came really hard inside her pussy, mixing my load with the older man's load, making it feel completely soaked in there, like a big bowl of cum-soup. It was hot and let off a lot of steam for the both of us.

I headed to bed after that, not knowing what to think of any of this, still feeling oddly turned on and caring less and less about what he had actually done, thinking about what kind of BMW he had bought her.

"What had I gotten myself into?" I thought.