We Have to Talk, Hun

First of all, I should not be there, I was supposed to be at work in another city, but you know, you only catch the cheater when you arrive unexpectedly.

Secondly, in front of the house was an unknown car, as it always happens. I researched it, it was completely average. A car of an average man; in no case was it the vehicle of a playboy. Anyway you know, unknown car equal fornication with the chauffeur.

The key was hidden in its place. I used it to open the front door, then moved on tiptoe to the floor in front of the door that allowed access to Susan's bedroom.

Now you know the drill, there were voices inside the room, almost a litany. The male's voice kept on asking "who owns your pussy?" and Susan's voice responded "you baby, not that dickless Pete."

Oh crap!

I bet you know the sequel, the wronged party enters the room unseen and unheard and takes some pictures with his cell phone and then tells the sex scene for readers' enjoyment. This is what happens even in the most terrible BTB. Then he shadows out and goes to sleep at the cheapest motel, hires a PI, and gathers evidence as if it counts for divorce in a non-fault state. Sure, in Pennsylvania adultery doesn't get alimony, but not all LW stories take place there.

Well, I didn't have to do that, so I approached another path, a crazy one. I slammed the wall door as hard as I could and went in screaming and running, luckily the house was isolated.

Susan almost had a heart attack when she saw me, and the guy, I swear, pisses at the spot. Technically speaking, he did half in Susan and half on the white sheet and implicitly on the mattress, too bad for her, it was a quality one.

"Wrap yourself up slut!" I shouted, grabbing the neck of this average 'pussy-owner'. Obviously, I dragged him like that to the hallway. When I was ready to throw him out, the man begged me in a weeping voice to bring him his clothes.

"Let me wait here in the hall, Sir, I don't want to bother Susan."

"You had to think ahead."

He had a valid point of view anyway, so I made an effort and went up the stairs again, entering the room to retrieve the forgotten clothes on the floor.

Susan was still in bed, wrapped in a sheet and staring blankly.

"Get up slut, take a shower, and clean here as it smells like a toilet," I spat at her with venom in my voice.

"I'm staying in the library, but don't waste my time."

I went down without waiting for an answer.

The man took his clothes and dressed trembling.

You know what should happen next, I'll break him up, he'll complain to the police, I'll be detained for trial. Well, I just threatened him.

"You were born under a lucky star," I told him. "So I'm not going to tell your wife anything this time, but if you get close to Susan I'll kill you."

"Thank you, Sir, I have small children at home, my wife doesn't need to know."

"Susan has small children, too."

"Yes, but I have three, while she only has two."

That's it now!

The guy runs away as fast as he could, and I went to the library to read a book, not before drinking a non-alcoholic beer.

Speaking of which, the Literotica stories don't stress enough that you shouldn't drink alcohol while driving.

Susan came in about half an hour. On top of that, she was nervous.

"Your stunt ruined my mattress, what do I do now?"

"You buy another, I guess. But don't change the subject now is time for you to read from the Cheatings Book, to convince me it's not what I think."

"What for," she replied. "You know too well that the bond between us can't be broken so easily."

Here she is right, after all, she is my older sister!

"Don't rely on that, you know I'm crazy," I replied. "Don't let it happen again, I don't answer for myself, you know I hate cheaters."

"It won't happen again, I won't bring a man to my house in my life, I'll go with him to a motel, but how did you get in?"

"I used the spare key, I knew where it was hidden."

"Where's Pete, anyway?" I asked.

"He went to Disneyland with the kids. I stayed home because I wasn't feeling well."

"This is the greatest betrayal," I replied immediately. "You preferred sordid sex to your family. What kind of mother are you?"

Here I touched a sensitive rope because her lips trembled as if she were ready to cry; it was hard to remember.

Then she began to speak ill of Pete, her husband. He was dull and lacking skills in bed, he was small. As if that wasn't enough, he also worked 12-14 hours a day, always leaving her alone.

This upset me terribly.

"Just shut up! He courted you for a year, then you moved in together for six months until you got married. Don't tell me his penis was shortened during the marriage, you knew too well what you were getting into. He works so hard because of you, you're so demanding..."

"Maybe he has a mistress too."

"I contradict you, I put a PI to follow him, he is an honest husband, practically a simp one. Unfortunately, all the bad things happen to them."

We talked to each other until she asked me why I came, actually.

"To show you the engagement ring, I want to ask Beth tonight."

"I'd like you to get a kick."

Obviously, I asked her why she said that.

"You're a jerk, you don't deserve such a woman. What can you give her?"

"Me!"

"How arrogant you are!"

Our discussion was interrupted by two little thugs who threw themselves at me.

"Uncle Allen, Uncle Alen! What did you bring us?"

My nephews had come home unexpectedly earlier than planned.

Susan shuddered at the thought that without my intervention she would have been caught.

You can't visit the little ones without a gift, so I was ready, I gave them the latest video games for their age, and they rushed excitedly to their rooms to try them, forgetting about everything else.

"Well done, now I can't get them out of the room until tonight," Pete scolded me.

"Let them enjoy now," I replied.

"Why did you come back earlier?" Susan asked.

"They missed you," Pete replied simply.

At this stage, my sister should have been ashamed.

After about a quarter of an hour, I prepared to leave.

"I'm watching you," I told Susan.

Then I took Pete aside.

"Work less and stay longer at home," I warned him, without going into detail.

"I wish it could be," he replied bitterly. "At work, it's like a mill, if you go into the mixer you don't escape. Many are hunting my position, if I slow down I wake up on the outside. Not everyone can be like you - for example, now you should be at the office, not here."

Well, he croaked.

After a quarter the one I wanted to marry, Beth Tucci, called me.

"We have to talk, Hun. I'll be waiting for you at seven in the evening, until then call Mrs. Mendoza."

Now I've read a lot of stories and I know what a terrible threat this simple "we have to talk" sentence hides. It's basically absolute evil, but what can you do? Grit your teeth and move on.

Calling Mrs. Mendoza is also bad, she's dealing with HR at Beth's company.

"Oh, Mr. Moore, I was waiting for your phone," she told me.

"Unfortunately, I have bad news. You will have to hand over your mobile phone, card and car keys, your employment contract ended today. As such, by tomorrow you will leave the service apartment where you live."

"I should get 15 days' notice," I responded.

"Mrs. Tucci said it doesn't matter anymore, we'll pay you these days anyway. Come and get your last check."

"I can't accept, I just want the payment on time."

"Very well, sir, don't forget to come by 5:00 p.m."

I arrived around 4.30 pm and completed all the formalities in record time.

"Mrs. Tucci said you wouldn't need any recommendations, sir, so I can't give you any, I'm sorry. And good luck, sir!"

Well, that's it, I knew "we have to talk" is an ominous sentence. Here I am without a job, without a car and a phone, and without a house. Worse, I ran out of all my savings on my engagement ring!

What would you do if you were me?

First of all, I decided to keep my temper, not to be desperate. I know that when dealing with women a desperate man is easy prey. You can be passionate, but never desperate.

I must remain worthy in any circumstance, it is not the end of the world, I am young, presentable and I have higher education, I will find something to work on, only not a dull job, like poor Pete.

Secondly, I decided to go at seven o'clock, I still had some money in my pocket so I could afford a cab. I will not be pitied, we will part with dignity.

I have to respect myself if I want others to respect me.

And I owe Beth at least that much, say bye-bye face to face, not through Facebook messages.

When I arrived in front of Beth's villa, I saw, you guessed it, another unknown car. But what a car, a super one, of a man with big money. Who will be this infamous? But it wasn't my job anymore, I was out. Still, I asked her.

"Later," she replied. "Now let's hurry, I have a table reserved at restaurant X." (The best in town, but I don't advertise it for free.)

I looked at her in surprise.

"You owe me that," she told me, smiling at me as if nothing had happened.

Maybe someone else in my place would have reacted badly, but I promised myself to be a gentleman until the end. Maybe she wanted us to break up in a public place so I wouldn't make a scene.

I was determined to leave one last good impression.

Well, the meal was excellent. We chit-chat and danced. Now, Beth is a beautiful and very elegant woman; a few came to invite her to the dance, but I chased them away; I'm possessive, I don't share her with anyone until the breakup.

As I was sitting at the table, a young woman came in front of me with a short skirt and gorgeous legs, accentuated by her high heels; she bent down, showing me her appetizing backside, as in the videos of the Brazilians from RedeTV on Youtube.

It was a test, even weirder if we thought Beth wanted to break with me.

Now, you know how women are, they only want you to look at them when you are together and not ogle after others!

I think I passed the test well because I only looked at Beth all this time until she motioned for the long legs lady to leave.

"Allen, our relationship is no longer satisfying, I need a change," she finally told me.

"Great minds think the same, and I say there's room for better," I replied.

"I want to get married," she said as she slapped my face.

"With whom?"

She took a small framed object out of her purse and showed it to me.

"Do you know the guy?" She asked me.

"Somehow," I replied.

"Let me explain," she continued. "I have more money than I could ever spend. I have spent most of my time learning and then working hard, it's time to relax. I want a young, energetic husband who can satisfy me physically, emotionally. and intellectually. I have the right to be pretentious."

I agreed, she had this right.

"I have a lot of pretenders, but I'm afraid most want me for my fortune. What do you think?"

"An ironclad prenup. If your husband cheats on you, he'll leave only with his clothes on."

Beth nodded.

"But vice versa should be mentioned," I dared to propose.

She stared at me.

"I will not deceive my husband."

"Then you can set an amount, you have nothing to lose."

"How much?"

"I leave it to you, but it should be something significant."

She nodded.

A somewhat embarrassing silence followed.

"Why are you linger?" She asked. "Get on your knees and say the words quickly!"

What was I supposed to do? I asked her hand and she accepted, we kissed and we were both very happy.

"I can hire a PI too," Beth teased me. "I was informed that you bought the engagement ring and I told myself to prepare the ground."

"It was a not-so-successful prank," I replied.

"I'm sorry, but this is your style; I thought you'd taste your own medicine," she laughed and then I imitated her.

"Can you tell me why you kicked me out?"

"Of course, my husband has to work with me, not for me. You don't need an apartment anymore, since you're moving in with me."

"Wait a minute, you mean that expensive car will be mine?"

"We have nothing to do," she sighed. "I prefer a simpler lifestyle, but in the business world the image is everything, when you have the money you make more, and when you are hungry you make only debts ... Don't be too happy, you will pay it in monthly installments ... "

"How, I don't have any more money?"

"I give you an annual allowance."

Come on, I read a lot of stories, the monthly allowance is ridiculous - 10-20 bucks, how will I pay? But Beth reassured me, the amount I would receive was considerable. From this sum, I will buy her the wedding ring, not something as expensive as Beyonce received, but something significant anyway.

"Don't go after stories, "we have to talk" doesn't necessarily hide something bad," Beth concluded.

What else can be said?

What did Beth show me? A framed mirror in which I obviously saw myself.

PS: Allen and Beth (this time married) appear in my story "It's not my damn business."