The Perfect Wife Ch. 01

He slammed on his brakes. Then, stopping just short of her, he jumped out the door and screamed, "Are you crazy? You could have gotten yourself killed. On second thought, don't move."

She stood smiling at him. And in a calm voice, she asked, "Did you check your recorder today."

"No. Why?"

"If you had, you would've listened to the message I left. Then, you would have known I wanted you to meet someone.

"Adam is my college roommate, Charlotte's boyfriend, and a lifelong friend of mine. He wanted to show me the engagement ring she had bought her. He wanted my opinion of it. Now will you come back inside with me and let me introduce you two? "

Adam said his goodbyes an hour later and left to go home. "Rebecca," spoke Robert. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions before I talked to you. I saw you wearing that ring and holding his hand, and I couldn't handle it."

Sitting next to Robert, Rebecca looked into their eyes and spoke. "I want to tell you something else about Adam and my relationship with Adam." She could feel their body stiffen, and a worried look crossed his face.

Amanda took his hand and continued, "Adam was my first and only boyfriend until we went off to college. I went to Georgia, and as you know, Adam went to Alabama. My parents and Robert's parents were and are still good friends.

"I think everyone assumed we would get married. We've known each other since we were babies, but we both knew there was nothing there for either of us.

"After about one semester, we just quit communicating with each other. I guess it was our way of breaking away without breaking up. No bad guy to blame. So, I want you to it hear from me; there are no feelings between us."

"So why did you bring him here?" asked Robert.

"He was my best friend up to now," leaning in and kissing Robert. "I wanted him to meet you."

'What does he think of me?" asked Robert.

Rebecca chuckled, "Who cares, as long as I like you. But if you want to know, he'll call me next week."

"Nah, I don't care."

The music broke into a slow song. Robert stood up, took Rebecca's hand, and asked," Do you want to dance?"

"Is that the best you got?" asked Rebecca, "That's not going to get you any. What about one of those pick-up lines you're famous for."

Robert thought and asked, "Spell "ME."

Rebecca replied, "M-E,"

Robert," Nope, wrong M-D-E."

Rebecca recoiled. "What do you mean, wrong? It is to spelled, M-E."

Wrong, laughed Robert, "It's spelled M-D-E."

Rebecca was turning red, "Read my lips. There is no D in ME.

Robert gave her a twisted smile and said, "There could be."

Rebecca analyzed what Robert said and dissolved in laughter. She slapped his shoulder as she dragged him to the dance floor.

Xxxx

For the next three months, Rebecca continued to cut Roberts' costs and gain hours for herself. Finally, one night while Rebecca was improving her head skills in Robert's office, she took her mouth off the top of his cock. "Robert, honey," she said as she continued to lick his cock.

"OHH gawd," he said, with a gravelly sound spewing from his mouth.

Running her tongue up the shaft, circling the head, and giving him special attention, she pulled away and said, "My parents want to meet you. We have our monthly get-together this Sunday, and they want us to come over so that they can inspect and ensure you are worthy of me." She placed her mouth on his helmet and slowly sucked on it.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca, I scheduled a root canal with no Novocain for that day. Besides, my mother expects me every Sunday."

She lowered her head on top of it till she gagged. Clamping her lips around it, she lightly drugged her teeth to the head,

"HUUUUUUUUUUGH," moaned Robert. "You're going deeper and deeper."

She pulled away and lightly stoked his cock. "Your mother thought it was a great idea."

Robert groaned, "Remind me to fire her next week."

Rebecca pulled away and sat staring at him with a sad look.

"You're going to leave me like this?" he asked with a plaintiff cry. "My balls are going to explode."

Rebecca shrugged, knowing she had them figuratively speaking in a vice grip.

"All right. All right. I'll go, dammit."

She placed both her tits around his member, slowly stroked up and down on the shaft, put her mouth over the crown, and sucked as hard as possible. Robert screamed as he came, "Look out. Move your mouth."

She didn't pull her head away for the first time and sucked it till his load hit the back of her throat.

Robert came back to his senses, "You swallowed. You said you've never done that before. Why?"

She got on his lap, looked him in the eyes, and replied, "Because I love you. I want to make you happy."

He whispered in return, "I love you. But don't think for a minute, young lady, that you can get your way by giving me a blow job. I won't always say yes."

"We'll see," she said with the look of, huh uh right, and kissed him again.

Xxxx

Robert turned the key to the truck's ignition off and stared at the eight vast columns of the white antebellum mansion that took up the entire windshield of his truck.

Looking over at Rebecca, he asked, "You grew up here?"

"Come on, Robert, get out of the truck. You'll really like my parents, and I know they'll love you."

"Yeah, right, a commoner with the princess."

"Come in. I'll hold your hand and protect you," she giggled.

Robert felt he was walking the last mile to his execution, and the woman he loved was clearing brush for it.

The front door opened, "Hey, Mom," Rebecca reached in, hugging her mom and dad.

Stepping back and taking Robert's arm, "Mom, Dad, this is Robert Bradshaw. Robert, this is my mother, Morgan, and Dad, John."

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am," Nodding at her mother.

Morgan stuck out her hand, and Robert gave her a soft shake. "You can call me Morgan. We've heard so much about you, Robert."

John reached out and gave Robert a firm but friendly handshake. "Well, come on in, the interrogation has started," chuckling at the boy's discomfort. "Everyone is out back, and lunch is just about to come off the grill."

Robert marveled at nineteenth-century architecture as he walked through the hallway to the grand foyer. Ahead to the left and right were two spiral staircases that led to the second floor.

"Before, you ask," said Rebecca, "I used to slide down those all the time."

"Yeah, I used to bust her butt for it, too," chuckled John. "When I caught her."

'Yea, I just made sure I didn't get caught," laughed Rebecca.

"Yea, until you fell off and broke your arm," replied Morgan. "That put a stop to it."

Rebecca turned to Robert and mouthed, "No, it didn't."

Heading out the back door to the patio, Robert felt like the only chicken in the fox's den.

In front of him, the area went silent as all the conversations ended.

"Damn, Sis, you do have a boyfriend. We thought it was one of those imaginary things again you take pills for," smirked James. Everyone chuckled at the remark.

Becky took a deep breath and blew it slowly to relax. But it took everything in her power to keep from kicking his ass.

Rebecca stepped up and said, "Everyone, this is Robert Bradshaw. That's my brothers Peter, and the asshole there is James," emphasizing asshole, "and their wives, Laura and Mandy."

Over there are my sisters, Beth and Kim, and their husbands, Alan and Greg."

Everyone stood staring and sizing each other up. Finally, James broke the tension by asking, "What team?"

Everyone stared at each other like in a Sergio Leone spaghetti western gunfight scene, with music whaling in the background.

Shit, thought Rebecca, I forgot to ask Robert what his favorite football team was.

Robert narrowed his eyes and responded, "GO DAWGS."

"HOT DAMN," cheered the men. The men welcomed him with hardy handshakes.

"Really?" laughed Rebecca, "That's all that's important."

"Why, heck yeah," said Peter, "How else are you supposed to judge a man."

"Hey, Robert, catch," yelled James, "Throwing a Heineken beer toward him."

Snagging it out of the air, Robert raised the bottle toward James, "Thanks."

James asked, "Have we met? I swear I've seen you before."

Untwisting the top of the bottle, Robert pondered, "No. No, I don't think so."

Beth and Kim grabbed each arm, "Come on, Robert, you can sit between us," said Beth, "we'll tell all of Becky's secrets and desires and a few of our own."

Becky stormed over and grabbed his arm, "Oh hell no, he's not. He's sitting across from Mom and Dad and next to me. And all questions will be vetted by me first."

They ate BBQ pork ribs with a vinegar-based sauce, southern potato salad, baked beans, and cole slaw for the next hour. For dessert, homemade ice cream and peach cobbler.

For the next hour, everyone told embarrassing stories of Rebecca's youth. She was getting madder and madder with every account. Finally, he squeezed her hand, telling her to relax to let her know he supported her.

Robert turned to Rebecca, "You thought it was funny when my mom showed you pictures of me when I was a baby. You laughed so hard you were crying at the ones where I was crawling around naked on the bed."

James laughed, "Hey Robert, you want to see a naked picture of Becky when she was young?" After that, the table went dead silent."

Robert looked around, wondering what was going on. He thought that it was an odd reaction.

"What," said James. "Moms got her baby pictures."

Saving the day, John said, "Guys, I hope you've learned something here today. You've told Robert everything about yourselves for the last hour, but we don't know much about him. You can learn a lot from him. Remember, knowledge is power."

Morgan looked at Robert, "Tell us about yourself."

"Not much to tell. I came was raised in Pickens County and went to Jasper high school. My dad is an Engineer, and my mom was a stay home mom."

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "She raised five kids. I have two older brothers and two older sisters. I grew up in a middle-class family in a middle-class neighborhood.

"I got good grades but couldn't stomach going to college. I'm sure Rebecca has told you about my business, and it is doing ok. But now, thanks to her, I'm starting to see a little light at the end of the tunnel.

John asked, "Tell us about your fans. Becky tells us that you have the patents on them."

For the next hour, Robert explained his business model.

"Wow," said John, "We're all lawyers. I can't even imagine the thought process to develop that idea. Then, devise a way to bring them to fruition.

Robert replied, "I guess I got it from my grandfather and father. Kind of runs in the family."

"Sis, why don't you get the softballs out and pitch some? Then, you can show your pitching skills off to Robert," pleaded James.

"Nah," said Rebecca.

"Come on, noodle arm, don't wimp out," goaded Peter. He flapped his arms, "Cluck, Cluck, Cluck, chicken." antagonizing Becky.

Robert jumped in, "Go ahead. I'd love to see you pitch."

Robert watched Rebecca warming up, throwing to Greg. He watched her motion, release point, and her hand placement intently as the ball left her hand.

John walked up to Robert and asked, "You play ball?"

"Yea, I blew out my knee when I was younger."

James and Peter swung and missed over and over. Then, finally, Beth yelled, "That's why you both were pitchers; you couldn't hit."

Peter threw his bat down. "Your turn Robert."

He waved his hands and replied, "I haven't swung a bat in years," trying to beg off.

Rebecca looked over at Robert, "Come on and get into the casket if your man enough," goading him with a smirk.

Robert walked over and picked through the bats. Test the weight and balance of each of them. He picked up two more and slowly swung them back and forth to loosen up. Then, dropping two of the bats, he swung the one he liked fast. Everyone could hear the "woof" made by the bat as it fanned through the air.

He stepped into the box. "A lefty, Sis," yelled Peter. Leaning toward James. "This should be good, lefty versus lefty."

Rebecca wound up, threw, and the ball went by Robert before he could cold move. Rebecca smiled, reached into the bucket, and took out another ball.

Again, she released the ball, and Robert whiffed through the ball. Strike one yelled James.

Again, the ball left Rebecca's hand. He swung. Crack! The ball went foul off to the left.

"Strike two," yelled James.

The next fastball came toward Robert. Crack! The ball went down the right-field foul line.

"He's zeroing in on you, Baby," yelled her dad.

The next pitch was a little higher. Clink! And the ball flew high straight back over the house. Then everyone heard a distant car alarm going off.

Robert cringed.

"Sis," he's got your pitches timed. Give him your scholarship killer." James yelled from the sidelines.

Everyone cheered on Robert, "Hit the bitch, hit the bitch."

Robert stood watching Rebecca intently. Rebecca placed the ball in her glove. She came set, ready to throw. At the last moment, Robert moved up two feet toward Rebecca.

"He knows what she's throwing," whispered James to Peter.

Rebecca started her windup and whipped the ball toward Robert, releasing the ball after hitting her leg with the pitch. That caused extra spin on the ball.

Robert kept his weight on his back foot. He was coiled like a tightly wound spring, ready to release its Potential energy, waiting on the curve to get to him.

He watched the long broad curve of the ball slowly tracking through his strike zone. Then, at the last second, he uncoiled. His hips flew open, bringing his bat in from high to low swing, nailed the ball as his bat started its upswing back toward the pitcher.

A cracking sound came from his bat as the ball hurled toward the forest over 300 feet away. Everyone went silent as the ball cleared the top of the pine trees as it went out of view.

Rebecca's mouth dropped as the ball disappeared over the horizon. She slowly turned back toward Robert as he flipped his bat and broke into a trot around fake bases. He was mimicking Kevin Cosner in the movie, 'Bull Durham.'

Robert headed down the fake first baseline as the gallery bowed, performing the wave as he trotted by. He took his hands and cupped them over his mouth. A loud hissing sound came out, mimicking screaming fans. Then, back at the batter's box, he jumped and stomped at the piece of rubber that was home plate.

Rebecca walked up with a WTF look, "What was that?" she asked.

"I got lucky," replied Robert.

"Bullshit," said James, as everyone surrounded Robert like a triumphant hero. "You knew what she was going to throw before she did it. You moved up in the box when she came to set."

"Yea, she telegraphed it. I watched some videos from her old games. Every time she threw a curve, she looked into her glove. And when I saw her do it a few minutes ago, I knew what was coming."

"Where'd you play ball," asked Peter.

"I mostly played select for the Kennesaw Buzzards when I was young. You know, a traveling team. We traveled the southeast playing."

"No, where did you play in high school?" he asked again.

"I played ball for XXXXXXXXX."

"I knew it!" exclaimed James. "You're that Robert Bradshaw. Dad, he's the one that beat us like a drum. He batted nine hundred against me that year. He was the one that came out to the mound and told me I was telegraphing my pitches.

"You know, after you told me I was that I was telegraphing my pitches, I pitched a no-hitter and had 1.2 ERA over my next five games. Then, I pitched for Georgia as a reliever but didn't throw hard enough to go further."

"Glad I could help. We knew we wouldn't play you again, and we thought you could beat some of our opponents if we told you. And besides, they pulled the mercy rule on you guys at the end of the 7^th inning because we were up by 15."

"How did you spot what I was doing?" curiously asked.

"I've always been very observant, and I notice things. Details that others miss. Very seldom can anyone get something by me."

James smirked for a second and caught himself.

"Weren't you in middle school that year?"

"Yea, a special provision allowed eighth graders to play for small schools with low student populations. We had six select players on that team that played select ball with me. We were all coached by my dad."

"What happened to you?" James asked. "I followed your career in high school. You led the state in about every batting category those years. You were rated as the number one draft choice after your junior year. Then you were never heard of again. I know our coaches wanted you, and I heard they were recruiting you hard.

"Guys, enough questions," snapped Rebecca, trying to rescue Robert from the interrogation. "How about some ice cream?"

"No, I don't mind answering them. In the off-season, I was up in Chattanooga playing in a tournament. I was rounding third base. I hit the corner of the bag at full speed when the anchor plug broke that held base firmly in place.

"When it gave way, it caused my knee to twist, and I tore it completely up. I have a nice long scare to prove it."

"Yeah, but Robert, you played first base," said James. "You didn't need to run fast. You could have still played with your talent." Turning to his Dad, "Dad, I read his stats; his bat speed was on par with Ken Griffey Jr."

"Oh, it's not as bad as you think, James. I started playing ball when I was 4, and by that time, I hit seven, I was playing 50 games a year. And by the time I hit 10, I was playing 100 games year-round. And that didn't include practices and batting cages.

"After my injury, I was in a cast for three months and couldn't play for my entire senior year. But you know what I discovered? There was another world out there that didn't involve baseball.

"I realized the only friends I ever made played ball. And in school, my only friends were jocks. I never got to go to summer camp. I never had time to go on long vacations. It was usually on a three-day weekend to Panama City Beach between summer and fall ball.

"And when I hit high school, I played 100 games, plus those in school. When the time came to start playing again, I couldn't do it. Today is the first time I picked a bat up in about ten years.

"What did your parents say?" asked John. "I bet your dad was disappointed."

"Dad wasn't happy. He envisioned me playing pro ball but never said anything, but I saw the disappointment in his eyes. And it wasn't because he was living through me. He thought I could have been one of the greatest that ever played. Like most dads, he wanted me to be the best I could be."

Rebecca took his arm and looked at him lovingly, "I think you're the greatest."

"Oh, gag me," said Peter, putting his finger down his throat.

"Mrs. Thurman, do you have a bathroom I can use?" asked Robert.

"Yea, but you'll have to use the ones upstairs. We are remodeling the ones on the first floor. Go up the stairs, turn right, and it's the first door on the left.

Rebecca jumped in and volunteered. "I'll take you, Robert."

"Thanks, but I think I can find it" he turned and headed inside.

Drying his hands, he glanced out to the back of the house to see Rebecca's family surrounding her, and it looked like the conversation was getting heated. Rebecca kept shaking her head and mouthing, no.

Robert stayed watching the exchange when he saw Rebecca break away and start heading toward the house. He hurried out the door and walked back toward the stairs when he saw Rebecca's portrait hanging over the left side steps along with her brothers and sisters.

He walked up to it and stared at it when he heard, "There you are. I thought you might have fallen in." Rebecca walked up and informed him, "I was younger when that was taken."