WBDP - Morris and Marcia

"I wish to God I could, but I can't. The doctor confirmed it yesterday." Murmurs and exclamations broke out from the others around the room.

"Was it the headaches you've been having problems with?" She asked.

"That was the symptom. Turns out I've got a tumor growing in the autonomous function section of the brain; the part that controls things like your heartbeat and breathing. They can't operate due to the location and this type of tumor doesn't respond well to chemo or radiation. Eventually, it's going to keep growing until I forget to breath or my heart just stops because it doesn't know how to beat anymore. Pretty much, I'm fucked."

"Oh, Morris! I'm so sorry!" Marcia grabbed Morris's arm and pulled him to her, wrapping him up in her arms and pulling him down against her breasts.

Buzzkill! I turned off the Vibe. Marcia wouldn't want to cum while Morris was giving us this shitty news. And it was wretchedly horrible news. They'd been partners for around four years now and Morris was probably her closest friend other than me. He was kind, considerate, and a very good friend, and he had her back in some very hairy situations. I trusted him to take care of my wife on the job and this was almost as hard for me as it was for her. He liked the same kind of movies that I did and when Marcia didn't want to go to something I wanted to see, Morris would go with me. He was like my little brother, even though he was black. Marcia had been trying to fix him up with girlfriends for three years, but none of them had ever stuck. I'd even tried to put him together with my niece. He was a great guy and I was proud to call him a friend.

"Fuck, Morris!" I said. "Have you seen specialists? You're not taking one doctors word for it are you?"

"I've probably seen a half dozen different doctors. Not a one of them has given me a shred of hope. I mean, they are going to treat it. They're going to start radiation treatments down here. I want to go back to New York and be with my family and they found a top notch cancer clinic up there I can go to when I get there. I've got a few things to finish up with here. Final business. Should take me about a month, then I'm leaving. I'm putting in for medical retirement tomorrow. I wanted you all to know first."

"Jesus, Morris. I'm sorry, buddy. This totally sucks." I exclaimed. A sentiment shared by everyone there in one way or another.

It really did. Morris was one of the good guys. Always helping out, always there for you. He was a proud, patriotic American who'd worked hard for what he had and he didn't deserve for this to happen to him. Why couldn't it be some asshole instead of Morris? Life had a way of stabbing you in the guts sometimes. There probably weren't two people in the whole department that wouldn't miss him when he was gone. You don't get that many friends if you're a jerk.

We sat around for a couple hours, talking about his treatments, his prognosis, trying to think of anything smarter people than us had not already considered. We drank his beer and told him he'd be in our prayers and finally, the conversation just kind of died, like our friend was going to die, because there didn't seem more to say other than good-bye and no one quite wanted to say that yet; too final. One by one, we kind of drifted out the door. Marcia and I were the last to leave.

"I hope I don't get stuck with Santini as a new partner," Marcia told him, kissing him on the cheek and giving him another patented Marcia hug. "He's such a dickwad."

Morris laughed. "He is, isn't he. When I turn in my papers tomorrow, maybe I can talk to the Chief about putting you with Anderson. He's a good guy."

"Not as good as you, Williams. Not as good as you. God, I'm going to miss you, Morris. You've been the best partner I've ever had."

"Back at you, Marcia. We'll keep in touch, I promise."

"You'd better." She walked out the door. I delayed a moment longer to have my own words with him.

"Tough break, Morris. You don't deserve it," I said.

"Nobody ever deserves it. It just happens."

"I'm sorry it happened to you."

"Thanks. Take care of my girl, Sam." Morris said.

"I will. You know I love her to death."

"Me too, Sam. Me too."

When we got home, Marcia went to the bedroom and started crying. She'd been holding back, probably for Morris while we were there, but it was coming out now. Damn, I couldn't believe the shitty luck. Not so much about my play date with Marcia, although it was kind of sucky too, but the freakin' thing about Morris. Talk about the shitty end of the stick. I went into the bedroom to comfort Marcia a bit, but eventually she cried herself out and fell asleep. What the hell were we going to do? There was no way we could stop him from dying. He was going to die. Wait a minute, he was going to die.

I'd always said that it would take a very special set of circumstances for me to ever share Marcia. I might be staring at the special circumstances now. Setting it up, though, that was the tricky part.

********

I really had to think about this. This was not specifically prohibited by our Sex Slave Contract, but that may have been because Marcia never, in a million years, would have believed I would ever do this. She could shut it down with a word as she always had a safe word. I was real conflicted here.

Let me explain something. I don't think it's natural for a man to want to share his wife with another man; at least not natural for me. When I was younger, before I married the first time, I'd read these stories in Penthouse about guys who shared their wives with other men. I thought, WOW. What a beautiful thing. Sharing the one you love with somebody else. As long as you love one another, you can do this too. The other thing is only sex, love is what matters. Boy, was I naive.

My first wife started having affairs with other men. It was not just sex; not for her and not for me. I could not just toss it off as a physical act that wasn't much different from jumping jacks or push ups. It had emotional impact; huge negative emotional impact. Those were the darkest days of my life. I might have been close to suicidal at one time. Whole bunches of issues cropped up, trust issues, blame issues. Maybe it was because they were affairs, and not something that we were doing together; I don't know. But I also know that I never wanted to find out whether it would make a difference or not because I never wanted to relive that time in my life again. It had a devastating impact on our relationship that ended up in divorce, whether we still loved each other or not.

I'm not sure that most women can just have sex. Marcia and I talked about this extensively, because before we married, I wanted to be sure we were on the same page, emotionally and sexually. She's said that she doesn't believe that she's ever had a sexual encounter with a man where she didn't feel something emotionally. It had to be more than a casual acquaintance. Maybe it's due to the relative biology. For a guy, it's like sticking your hand in a cookie jar. You stick your hand in and something good happens. But a woman is the cookie jar. She has to accept some part of you into her body. And what you do with it after it's in there is out of her control. It may feel good, it may not. She may be lubricated, she may not. You may cum in her, you may not. You may be a cruel bastard, you might not. She might get pregnant, she might not. No matter what precautions she and you may have taken, that's out of her control. There has to be a level of trust there that doesn't exist for the man. The only level part of the playing field is that you can both give the other person a disease.

Even me. I like to think that I never had sex with a woman who I didn't know or care for at some level. Most people I'd dated for awhile, and the only time I'd ever had a one-off sexual relationship with is someone I dated once and talked to a few times and wanted to get to know better, but we were so sexually incompatible that I could never see proceeding past that point. But that was just me. I'd known other men who would stick their dick in a knot hole if they were horny enough.

The only time I'd ever considered sex with someone I didn't know was a British Airways stewardess who was getting married the following month and wanted to have a threesome with me and a crewmate - I guess to cross it off her bucket list - but I was married to the first wife and wanted to be faithful to her. The crewmate was so pissed off; she wouldn't do it only with him, because that would just be sleeping around; she wanted the experience, so he was left high and dry. If I'd known what would happen in my marriage later, I would have done it. Que sera, sera.

So, I'd been damaged goods when I married Marcia. She had repaired me. So why was I thinking of a threesome now, adding Morris to my bedroom? Good question, and I think the answer was, he was dying. I mean, I know Marcia had an emotional connection to him at the present. You can't be partners in a high octane job like police work and not develop some feelings about your partner. They aren't necessarily romantic feelings, but there's a bond there unlike anything else. It's the same in the military, sports teams, any job where you really have to depend on someone else to protect your ass.

But that connection could never go any further with Morris. In three or four months, he'd be gone; and he'd be leaving town even before that. It could never come back on us. Unresolved feelings that lead to more contacts, messy emotions, recriminations. This would be a sure thing, one time deal, that I would never have to worry about in the future. And just once, I'd like to be in a threesome; make up for the missed opportunity with the British stewardess. And who better than someone I liked, who Marcia liked, who liked both of us; and what a great way to say goodbye to him. I just had to be careful. Marcia had to be kept in the dark about this whole thing, at least until she was ready for it.

After Marcia woke up, we ate and talked some more. She told me how much she was going to miss having him as a partner. I told her how much I would miss having him as a movie buddy and how much safer I thought she was when he was backing her up.

"I'm sorry you're weekend is being ruined, Sam. I'll make it up to you," she said.

"I know you are. Sometimes, things happen. I know how badly you feel. I wouldn't expect you to take pleasure during a time like this."

"Even though I don't feel like playing, I do need you to hold me; make love to me."

So I did; long and slow. She cried out three times before I released my seed in her. Afterward, she lay cuddled in my arms.

"Often," she said, "when I get bad news like this, somebody dying or about to die; I need a reaffirmation of life like this. Making love, doing something, anything, to show that life goes on. To know that I'm still alive and kicking."

"It's the same with me. Do you remember when my Dad died?"

"Do I ever. It was hard to walk the next day. I got so many looks from your Mom. Your bed springs squeaked on the old bed we slept on."

"She understood. We talked about it once. I needed that so much. Like you said; it was a reaffirmation that life continues, that we endure, that love endures."

Marcia rubbed her hand down my chest. "I'm taking a week off around my birthday. Let's try to make it really special, okay."

"I'm game. I'll think of something," I said.

"I know you will, honey. I can always depend on you."

Mmmm. Birthday, April 2nd. April Fool's Day, April 1st. I was starting to get a germ of an idea.

I figured I needed to talk to Mistress Brianna. She was even more devious than I was and might be able to think of things that I wouldn't in order to make this happen. I sent her an e-mail asking her to call me, Monday - Wednesday 7 AM - 5 PM Eastern time and giving her my number. Sure enough, she called me about 11 AM on Monday. Since she was living in California, I must have been her first order of business.

"Hello, Sam. How is that little slave of yours?"

"A little down right now. A friend of ours is dying." I explained the situation to her.

"And why did you want to speak with me?" She asked.

"I have the basics of an idea that I wanted to float by you."

"Sam! You're thinking of sharing your slave, aren't you?"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"You just told me that a friend of both of yours is dying, and you called me. Not anyone who you've known and interacted with for years, me. Why the hell else would you be talking to me?"

"God, you're intuitive. That's exactly what I was thinking. I'm not sure that Marcia would go along with it. I kind of want to spring it on her, but gently. She always has to right to say no. I would prefer that she doesn't. I was thinking that if I let him in on our little secret, he could maybe come over while she was blindfolded and couldn't see, maybe just step in for me. She wouldn't know, at least at first. That's what I wanted to talk to you about; to see what I needed to do to make this work."

Brianna laughed. "Honey, if you think that a woman won't know if another man is plowing her field, you're dreaming. There's the scent, the taste, the way they touch you, the rhythm they have, size differences, sound differences. It's a pretty intimate thing, and it involves all the senses. I don't think you can pull this off. If she finds out that she's fucking another person, and she has the right to stop it, not only will she be pissed off that you tried to pull something like this, but she will stop it."

"That's why I'm calling you. I want to know what I can do to make it happen. I mean she will find out, because I want it to become a threesome, but I want to work up to that. I want it to be a surprise up until I spring that on her. So, how do I make it happen?"

"Well, first of all, it can't be a complete surprise. There has to be a little warning that something special is planned. She's got to know that you have a plan and that it's all good; that you won't do anything to hurt her physically, emotionally or professionally. You have nothing in your agreement that excludes other people?"

"Surprisingly, no, but I think that was primarily because Marcia would never believe that I'd add one. Too much history in my past to allow it under normal circumstances."

"Okay then. I would think you need to say something like 'I'm not going to violate our agreement, but I have an unusual surprise for you. It might be unexpected but I would like you to consider it as a gift from me to you.' That gives her a clue that it is okay with you as well as being something different," Brianna said. "If she feels like it's going to be safe with no repercussions, she might go along with it."

"But I think it works better if she's already excited, I've got her going. I want it to be like Monique, where she's so turned on, it's hard to refuse," I explained.

"So tell me about this Morris guy. Is he about the same size as you?"

"I think we're about a half inch apart in height. He's a little stronger and more muscular, but I'm thinking if her hands are tied or restrained in some way, she can't really feel that extra muscle. Same with the hair. He has a razor cut, almost bald, but if she can't run her hands through his hair, she won't be able to tell. I've got a mask I can use on her that doesn't allow her to see and deadens sound, so sound differences may be less significant."

"The size of his equipment?" She asked.

"Pretty comparable, from what I've seen. I've never seen him erect, but in the bathroom, looks close."

"What about scent? What will you do about that?" Brianna asked.

"I could give him some of my shower gel, after shave and cologne; get him to use that."

"What about him? Do you really think that he'll go along with this? If he's a pretty straight shooter, he may not want to do this, simply out of respect for Marcia."

"No question. That's my second biggest problem. I think the only thing I have going for me is that he might love her as much as I do. He will only do it if it doesn't hurt Marcia. I need to make sure that he believes that."

"If I think of anything else, I'll email you," Brianna said, "but I still think that you're fooling yourself if you believe that you'll be pulling anything over on Marcia. She's no dummy. I think you'd be better off just telling her your plans and hoping that she goes along with it. If she cares for Morris too, she might be willing to do it. Think about what you're doing."

"Thanks for the input, Brianna. I'll think about it. I'll let you know what I decide."

"Let me know how it turns out. Bye, Sam."

"Good bye, Brianna."

I got my chance to speak to Morris after going together to see 'Kong: Skull Island', a movie that Marcia had no desire to see, but was right up the wheelhouse of Morris and I. We were both geeks for sci-fi and fantasy flicks. After the movie was over, I asked him to go have a beer and burger at a quiet joint we both liked. We talked about the movie and what we'd liked and disliked about the thing. We also talked about it being the last movie that we'd be able to see together before he left for New York.

I looked around the place a little to make sure there was no one around, then said quietly, "I have a favor to ask of you, but you need to promise that not a single word is ever spoken of this again."

"What kind of favor?"

"You have to promise first. Not a word to anyone; not your buddies at work, family members, not a single soul must ever learn what I'm about to tell you now, not even Marcia."

"Are you sleeping around on her? I won't make that promise if you're cheating on her. Fuck that!" He exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down. I'm not cheating on her. You know Marcia, she'd have my fucking balls if I ever cheated on her. It's something I have to tell you about Marcia, okay? You have to promise. You've had her back for four years and I need you to have her back again, for the last time. No one ever hears about this, ever. You promise?" I asked.

"You know that I'd never do anything to hurt her. I'll promise to that."

"What do you know about me losing all the weight that I lost?"

"Marcia told me that she had you on a diet plan. That's all she really said about it."

"Well the full story is that she promised me two days of sexual slavery if I lost 40 pounds with two additional days every month for keeping it off and more days for additional weight lost. We signed an agreement and I lost the weight. She gave herself to me fully during those two days. Everything I wanted within that agreement. It was fantastic. The thing is that she found out that she liked it, she liked everything about it. The spankings, the whippings ...."

"You whip her?" Morris asked.

"Not hard, but it is painful, but she loved it. She can even orgasm during a whipping or spanking. She loved the whole thing from the anal sex to the oral; loved it all. We'd be doing it more often, but we agreed that it might not be as special if we did it all the time, and I needed to have a reason to keep the weight off, so we only do it once a month. I'm up to three days now. We've never been happier nor has our sex life been better."

"You're kidding me right? This is all a big joke?"

"No, man. No joke at all. We went to a Dominant/submissive convention in Vegas over Valentine's Day and Marcia was naked for most of the time. She had sex in front of others, climaxed hundreds of times, even had a woman lick her to orgasm. God, she was beautiful. You wouldn't believe how sexy and gorgeous she was."

"Why are you even telling me all this shit? What's any of it got to do with me?" Morris asked.

"I want you to fuck Marcia."

"What the hell are you talking about? Is this supposed to be some kind of pity fuck for the dying guy?"