We Need to Talk Ch. 07

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It all comes together for the lovers. The final chapter.
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Part 7 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/22/2018
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A work of fiction, which means this story is a total confabulation of my fevered mind. All characters are over 18 years. Sorry, no trigger warnings other than marriage vows are routinely ignored and by popular demand (alright, one email) I ramped up the kink...but only a little. This chapter is best understood in context with the previous six chapters, but go ahead and read it, anyway; you might have fun.

*****

The initial wild euphoria occasioned by the return of my former lover Claire and her daughter Jillian, and my discovery I was Jillian's father, soon fell to a low simmer and our lives returned to some semblance of normal. I occasionally found myself smiling and humming for no particular reason and it didn't take a genius to understand I was the happy new father...of an 18 year old girl! In quieter moments I also understood that my old girlfriend - my old lover - was back in my life. I still had feelings for Claire. Actually, I was still in love with Claire but didn't want to admit it, especially to myself.

I'd deliberately kept those feelings suppressed although Myra and perhaps Jillian sensed my continued infatuation with Claire. To avoid temptation I resolved to avoid being alone with Claire, and as a consequence she and I hadn't talked much. I didn't want to inflame my old feelings for Claire and risk alienating Myra.

Myra and Claire seemed to have resumed their old friendship as if nothing had happened, which was a source of wonder to me.

Additionally, I had my work. I was putting in 60 hour work weeks in the ER, counting on-call time. I was in the final third of my medical career and I began to wonder if I shouldn't seek ways to cut back at work. It dawned on me that I risked burnout if I didn't slow down.

David Newton's menacing presence was never far from my mind. I was wearing Rich's retired body armor under my scrubs and white coat, and if anyone at the hospital had noticed, they hadn't mentioned it to me. I wasn't allowed to carry a pistol onto hospital property and therefore had to rely on unarmed security guards. At home I was well equipped to handle Mr. Newton should he appear, and so was Myra. She'd gone to the gun range with Rich and he'd pronounced her competent with pistol and shotgun. She now routinely kept a pistol in her purse and we kept a shotgun downstairs that we moved upstairs with us into the bedroom at night.

Claire and Jillian stayed at Rich's house and Myra enjoyed teasing me about it.

"I wonder if Rich and Claire are getting it on tonight?" she'd say, usually in the evening after a glass of wine. It wasn't a fair situation because I'd sworn off booze but still allowed Myra to drink at home. It made abstinence from alcohol more difficult for me, but I considered the added temptation to be part of my penance for my former alcohol abuse.

"I wonder if Rich invited his younger brothers over for a visit?" she'd say after a second glass. She was trying to get my goat and although said it in good humor, there was an edge to it. I wondered if Myra was idly daydreaming about experiencing Rich and his two brothers for herself.

"Rich wouldn't have sex with Claire, not with Jillian living in the house," I said. "Besides, I see no sign of romance between Claire and Rich. Rich is still in mourning, remember?"

Myra just smiled.

"Nothing like a good fuck to make a man forget his sorrows," she said, and that's when I'd first realized Myra had really changed. When had my wife become so overtly sexual?

Until recently, she'd not used vulgar language outside the bedroom. After our marijuana fueled bacchanalia with Rich at the lake house, and Myra's recent two overnights with Rich after Helen died, Myra was different. At first it was subtle, but she was becoming more sexually demonstrative. Her language and dress were more sexual and she'd become more aggressive in bed. I was the beneficiary of her sexual renaissance but I worried what it might portend.

She'd been nearly seduced by David Newton, something that'd caught me by surprise, and she'd been more than willing to go to Rich's bed on more than one occasion. That memory tweaked my conscience because I had willingly shared her the first time with Rich. Now with her fire lit, Myra was stoking the furnace herself. Myra was fast becoming a sexual dynamo and I had better keep up with her. It was time for me to slow down at work and better tend home and hearth.

*****

"Keep your eye on the gun, move fast, use both hands, and push down with all your weight and strength," Rich said. "Control the gun."

He was reviewing what I was about the do.

It was a last ditch maneuver, something only to be done in desperation if I was about to be shot at close range. This exercise seemed very real and already my heart was beating out of my chest. Rich drew the orange painted dummy gun and raised it toward me. It happened at lightening speed. I heard the hammer fall with a hard snap and I pushed the gun downward with all my might. I felt the sharp front sight dig into my palm but I didn't let go; instead, I used my weight and the strength of two hands to twist the gun away from Rich.

"Now, step in close and push me back, stiff arm me, and pull the gun back alongside your belly and empty it. Don't stop firing until I fall!" Rich said. I did and we concluded the exercise. Officer Kyle Kennedy, my sparring partner at Claude's gym, looked on approvingly.

"It's a last change maneuver, Dell, but sometimes it works. If you're shot, you'll be so high on adrenaline you won't feel it at first. Just keep going until you win," Kyle said. "Or until you drop."

He should know. A year and a half ago he'd been shot doing just what I had been practicing. In his case, a fellow officer dropped the perp and drove Kyle to the hospital where I was privileged to help care for him. Now, he and Rich were teaching me how to stay alive if David Newton attacked me at close quarters.

We put away our training equipment and I asked Kyle, "How's momma doing?"

Kyle's wife was in the final month of pregnancy with their first child, a baby girl. Rich had told me on the QT to expect the child to be named after me because in the ER, I had clamped Kyle's severed femoral artery and saved his life; another risky, last gasp maneuver that'd worked. Kyle had been close to death and I'd been lucky to find the severed stub in his pelvis. It'd been a close run thing and only the flawless performance of everyone in the ER, perfect luck, and Kyle's youth and vitality had saved him.

I also knew bullet fragments had severed both vas deferens where they crossed over Kyle's pubic bone, and their later repair by a urologist had been unsuccessful. Kyle was sterile but I was not free to discuss that with anyone except Kyle, and he'd never mentioned it. How he'd impregnated his wife, I didn't know.

"Momma's great and we're looking forward to being parents," Kyle said, and I saw Rich and him exchange a glance.

"We've seen no sign of David Newton, Dell," Rich said, "he seems to have disappeared, just evaporated off the face of the earth. His court date is coming up soon, and Sacramento will start looking for him if he skips. Since his crimes are financial and non-violent, I don't expect California to exert much effort looking for him."

*****

Thursday morning after breakfast, Myra started a breezy conversation as we cleaned up the kitchen together. I knew she was leading up to something, so I let her ramble until she finally got to the real topic, the coming weekend. Jillian was driving out of town to visit our daughter at college, leaving Claire alone with Rich. Myra had plans for us to spend the weekend with them at the lake house. Alarm bells went off!

"No, Myra. Just no," I said. I knew what she envisioned, a marijuana-fueled weekend fuckfest starring Myra, Claire, Rich, and me. "Rich is receiving outpatient treatment for alcoholism, Myra. I doubt his therapist would approve of him smoking weed, even if it's legal now."

"Rich said it's okay," she said, and I raised an eyebrow at that.

"So, you and Rich have already planned this, huh? And Claire, too? Why hasn't anyone said anything to me?"

I had a sudden feeling of exclusion, of being old and in the way. These were the same sorts of feelings I'd felt back in my drinking days. For the first time in months I felt the urge to drink, and knew I wouldn't call Claude to intervene. I thought Myra and I had reached an understanding about the lake house and extramarital sex: A rare occurrence that we always planned together and shared together. Now, apparently, I was the last to know; the fifth wheel. Even Claire was already in on it.

"We are including you," Myra said.

"Yeah, sure, after the fact. No, Myra, I don't want to go and I don't want you to go, either."

"Don't ruin this for me, please!" she said.

She gave me a piercing look that told me everything. She was going.

*****

Why did we have such trouble and strife? Wasn't I enough for her? I'd spent nearly a year improving myself, losing weight, stopping my drinking, and paying more attention to her. And now she was planning to spend a weekend at Rich's lake house, smoking dope and fucking Rich.

Uh, oh, I thought. Who else? His brothers, too? That had to be it!

Just then my phone went off and it was Rich.

"Hey, Rich," I said.

"Hey, Dell, did Myra talk to you about this weekend?"

"She just did."

"I know it's short notice but we just got our STD results back. Me, Mitch, and Arnie are all clean, so this opens up opportunities to play again. Myra and I have been eager to get together again, so naturally we thought about this coming weekend. Mitch is eager, too, but Arnie is in a new relationship and doesn't want to mess it up, so he's sitting this out."

"I'm not going."

"Not going? But Myra said you were on board. Claire is coming, Dell," Rich said, with a smile in his voice.

"I'm not going. It's too much, too soon. I know we had a pact, you and me and Myra, and I'll admit, we had a good time at the lake. But I need to wrap my head around this before we do it again; it's just too soon. Myra's more or less told me she's going regardless of what I think."

I'm sure Rich could hear the bitterness in my voice.

"Dell, look, if you say so, we'll call it off. I don't want to get between you and Myra."

I thought for a moment before I answered. I felt sorry for myself; boxed in and powerless. I knew I was being petulant but I couldn't help myself.

"No, don't call it off, go ahead without me. I have to work and it's too late to change the schedule. I don't think I could stop Myra from going in any event. Apparently, this is something she wants real bad and I'm not going to stand in her way. Go ahead, Rich, just take good care of her and see she gets what she needs."

"Dell, are you sure? Look, I'll admit, I'm eager for another shot at Myra but not at your expense. She does seem rather eager, though."

That wasn't exactly news to me but it hurt all the same. I swallowed hard.

"For some reason she's having a resurgence of her sex drive and she's way beyond me, Rich. She's always had a higher drive than me, but in the last year she's hit a new peak. Look, Rich, I'd rather it be with you than some dirt bag like David Newton. You I can trust. Just take good care of her. Is Mitch trustworthy? I don't know him all that well."

"Mitch is a good little brother and completely trustworthy, Dell. A real lady pleaser, too, if you know what I mean."

I could hear the playfulness in his voice.

Yeah, I knew what he meant. He and Myra had already discussed this, no doubt in detail. Myra knew exactly what she was in for.

I realized I was wallowing in self-pity but I didn't want Rich to know. I anticipated buying a bottle of good scotch and making it my Saturday night project. I also felt a bit of schadenfreude coming on, if that's the right term, a desire for Myra to get back a little of what she was dishing out to me.

"Rich, see to it that Myra gets a lot of attention...a LOT of attention. Know what I mean?"

Rich chuckled at that. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Mitch and I have teamed up before and he's good at this kind of thing. He's got a lot of...uh...sexual aggression, you might say. He's a gentleman but he knows how to manhandle the ladies and make them love it."

I smiled at his last remark. If Myra wanted to go somewhere else for sex, I wanted her to get it good and hard.

"And Claire is coming, too? I didn't know she was into that kind of thing," I said.

"Hope you don't mind, Dell, she being your old girlfriend and all, but she and George had experienced a bit of lifestyle play in San Diego before he got sick. She's curious, lets put it that way. And Dell? Claire and I have sort of hit it off. She's been real good for me...you know...about Helen and all, and keeping me on the straight and narrow with the booze."

I was glad to hear this but it hurt knowing Rich now had a claim on Claire, and that he and Mitch were going to be enjoying Myra and Claire for the whole weekend. I wanted to stand athwart the whole enterprise and shout," STOP!"

While that might stop this weekend's activities, it wouldn't change the underlying dynamics. Myra had that look in her eye, the same one I'd seen when she was leaving that night to meet the execrable David Newton. Myra was on a mission to get fucked, I could plainly see this, and I'd prefer it be Rich and not someone else. Having Claire in the mix just added salt to my wounds.

I wondered if I was too passive, too accepting, too meek? Possibly, but my options were limited. Staying married to Myra was my first priority and if that meant allowing her some extra-marital freedom from time to time...well, I could accept that...I'd have to accept that. In schoolyard terms, I was either going to like it or lump it.

*****

I was sulking. I tried not to show it, but Myra knows me well.

"Look, Wendell, just come with us and have some fun. I don't see what the problem is. You and I both enjoyed it before and this will be even better with Claire and Mitchie there. There won't be any alcohol but Rich is bringing some legal weed and you know how horny that makes me. Claire wants to try some of the new dope, too. Come on, Wendell...Claire? Your old girlfriend? Aren't you interested in Claire?"

I was interested and I couldn't understand why my wife was dangling my old lover under my nose. Was she offering me Claire so she could fool around...let's get real...fuck around with Rich and his younger brother?

"So now he's 'Mitchie', Myra? You want to have sex with a guy you hardly know? I know he's Rich's little brother and all, but still..."

I was having trouble understanding my wife's sudden promiscuity and I was of two minds. It was true, I had enjoyed sharing her with Rich that first time, and she'd taken to it like a duck to water. She was showing signs of becoming insatiable after just one exposure to extramarital sex! We had played together but the key word was together. On the other hand, how could I tell her 'no' after I'd already willingly shared her? The precedent had been established. Myra was a shared wife and she wanted more.

"Mitchie's a nice guy, Wendell, different than you and Rich, younger and much more physical. I don't have to be in love with him to have sex with him. I mean, I did at one time when we were younger but we're both older now. Now, I'm just horny and want to cut loose. You shared me with Rich and you opened my eyes, Wendell. Now I want to do it again and expand my horizons. Why won't you come with me?"

"Well, for one thing I have to work 14 hours tomorrow, and eight more on Saturday. Maybe I'll swing by on Sunday to see how you're holding up, to see if you can still walk," I said, showing my peevishness.

"Are you telling me 'no'? 'Cause if you are, I won't go. I'm giving you a chance to say 'no', Wendell. Just say the word and I'll stay home," she said, but I could see she wasn't truly serious.

"No, Myra, you're not dumping that decision on me. I want to stay married to you and I know you too well. You've been over the top horny lately and I know I can't keep up with you. I want you happy and if this is what it takes, I won't frustrate you and say 'no'. But aren't you worried I'll take up with Claire again?"

"No, I'm not, Wendell. Like I said, we're both older and we've got perspective. This is just recreational sex, Wendell, sport fucking. You and I know the difference. And besides, I'm too old to get pregnant. And so is Claire."

There was that hypersexual language again. This was the new Myra, the hypersexual Myra.

Her's wasn't a totally logical argument, and for that reason I couldn't counter it with logic. Emotionally, she'd already made up her mind, she was going. If I kept her home by executive fiat she'd resent me and make me pay in other ways.

Myra stared at me, trying to discern my cast of mind. I tried to keep a poker face but she saw right through me.

"Don't pout, Wendell. Our marriage is fine and I'm not going to leave you. I'm in love with you just as much as always, and I'll always love you. I respect you for the good man you are, and I don't want to make you sad and I don't want to hurt you. But I want this, I want this real bad. I want to explore new things. Mitchie is...really different. He's young and he's strong. My God, his arms are huge and his hands are like rough leather."

His hands? Mitch's hands had been on my wife? When? It must have been that night she'd cooked dinner for Rich and his brothers, and then slept in Rich's bed. Had she been keeping secrets from me?

"Wendell, Rich and Mitchie are no threat to you and no threat to our marriage. This weekend is just an interlude, a chance to step outside of our normal lives and experience something out of the ordinary. I'll always come back to you, you know that. I'll always be yours. You'll always be my number one."

What could I say? I was boxed in. But even more, I believed her.

*****

Friday was a mad-house at work. Fourteen hours is our group's long shift and it starts at 7 am and goes until 9 pm. The idea is the mornings and afternoons are ordinarily light, and we're usually busy only for the last six hours. Not so this Friday. I had additional help come at 3 pm but I was still run ragged when I walked out the ER door at 9 pm. It was the start of the cold and flu season and the waiting room was full. Throw in a little trauma and I had a busy fourteen hours.

Jim the hospital security guard walked me out to my truck. I could afford a new truck but I liked my 30 year old Chevy just fine. It harkened back to simpler, non-computerized times. Jim was retired from the city police force and he didn't like working unarmed. He'd been fully briefed on the David Newton situation.

"Why are you still working, Jim?" I asked as he shined his powerful flashlight around the area. We began walking toward my truck.

"Too many ex-wives, Doc. They bled me dry, and social security isn't quite enough. Beside, I like dressing up in a uniform and playing cop. But I'm afraid I won't be too much help if that Newton fellow shows up, being unarmed and all. I'd carry my old back-up .380 in a leg holster if I thought I could get away with it, but that asshole CEO would fire my ass for sure, even if I shot that Newton dipshit and saved your life. I'm afraid you're on your own if he shows up. Good idea wearing that body armor. But if he sees you're not going down after a few body hits? You can expect a head shot next. My advice? Move in fast, get in close, take the gun away, and shove it down his throat."