We Need to Talk Pt. 01

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A wife discovers you need to be careful what you wish for.
21k words
4.48
120.3k
186

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/12/2023
Created 10/15/2022
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This story is set in the UK. At sixteen students leave school and some start college. At eighteen those with the right qualifications can apply to universities to study their chosen subject. They can drink legally too, though most start illegally a bit earlier. All sexual activity in this story takes place between adults over the age of eighteen.

Purists may need to note that this is a fantasy written slightly tongue in cheek. Please don't be annoyed if the characters' responses don't always align with your literary expectations. There's also an opportunity to explore further in subsequent parts if I sense an appetite.

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This is Mike. He is thirty eight years old and on his second marriage. His first ended amicably when Jan decided she did, in fact, want to start a family after all, despite agreeing that wasn't what she wanted when they got engaged. Mike's father was a remote, distant man, and Mike never felt he had learned the skills to be the father that his and Jan's children deserved. So they divorced, quietly and without rancour. If they met in town, they would stop and chat as friends do; and, six months ago, Mike sincerely congratulated her and her partner on the birth of their third child.

On Saturday evening, Mike got in from playing cricket for the village team, to find his wife, Liz, in the kitchen checking that their casserole was on track to be ready to eat by seven o'clock. She told Mike that gave him plenty of time to shower and change while she set the table and opened the wine.

He arrived downstairs with time to spare and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Liz sent him to sit and watch TV until the meal was ready to serve. When called, he followed the gorgeous aroma into the kitchen to find a spectacular meal and a glass of excellent wine awaiting him

As they sat down Liz spoke, "Mike, we need to talk."

"Oh," said Mike. "That sounds ominous. You put lovely food and good wine on the table and then say four words that never end well. Can't it wait?"

"I think that we've put this off for long enough now," she replied. "Surely we can have a mature conversation while we eat."

Mike pondered. He hoped that he was wrong, but he was concerned that this might be something that he had considered but dismissed before he even proposed to Liz.

When his parents died, he and his brother were surprised to find how much they had inherited. His father may not have been a warm man, but he had obviously been an astute investor, and the brothers discovered that they each had access to hundreds of thousands of pounds, probably into the millions by now, in trusts and investments in tax havens across the world. Mike used some of his share to set up his business and invest in property, but left the remainder as a reserve for his old age.

Mike was a generous man, but careful and nobody's fool. Wary of being targeted by gold diggers, when he decided to ask Liz to marry him, he engaged an enquiry agent to find out why her first marriage ended. He had heard her side of the story but wanted to hear her ex-husband's version. The PI reported that she had chatted to the ex in a pub; he seemed like a nice guy, but cynical and disillusioned. His version of events was that his marriage seemed, indeed was, great for six years and then his wife announced that they should 'take it to the next level' and see other people. He claimed to have tried 'swinging' once, hated it and eventually divorced her.

Mike considered what the detective had told him. Perhaps it was true but Liz was intelligent, vivacious and beautiful. She was tall, 5'10", blonde, slender, with perky tits and a shapely arse. Mike hit six foot and was athletic, comfortably wealthy and good looking. They shared a lot of interests and easily tolerated those interests that they didn't share; cricket being one. On balance, Mike decided that he loved her too much to let her go based on the word of a man he didn't know, and he proposed. But he made contingency plans too, just in case. One example was the house they rented: It was actually owned by one of Mike's more discreet trusts, but if they separated it wouldn't appear as one of his assets to be shared in any divorce.

Liz claimed that she and her ex had divorced because he became complacent and dull and didn't even try to keep their marriage alive. Mike had wondered if the cycle was about to repeat as they had been happily married for seven years now but something seemed to have changed, almost imperceptibly, in her behaviour over the last three months. Was he about to find out why?

"So," he offered. "While I eat, perhaps you can enlighten me. What is this conversation that I didn't realise I was avoiding?"

Liz finished her mouthful of food and took a sip of her wine. "Well, it's obvious to me, and I'm sure you've noticed too, that our sex life has become very routine. I think you'll agree that we have to do something to reconnect, at a sexual level before we," she paused. "Well, before we just drift apart." She took another forkful of food and looked to her husband for his agreement.

"Are you suggesting couples counselling?" He asked, barely managing to prevent himself from laughing in her face.

She actually took him seriously, "No. I'm worried that you are getting bored only having sex with me, and I think you should have the opportunity to look outside our marriage for women to sleep with."

"Fuck me!" Thought Mike. "She sounds more like a telesales scammer than a wife. What happened to the woman I married?"

He continued, aloud, "But I'm not interested in having sex with other women. And what about you? Wouldn't you be jealous if I were having sex with other women while you were at home alone?" He carried on eating. She may be coming out as a slut, but she could cook.

"No, honey," she started look impatient at how dense he seemed to be. "If you're having sex with other women, it's only fair that I can see other men."

Mike noticed that this conversation was being framed so that he was 'having sex', while Liz was 'seeing'. He would be attracted by the first and not be discouraged by the latter; either she'd been on a marketing course or someone had been coaching her.

"Are you saying that you're bored having sex with me?" He asked feigning a hurt voice. "You said I was a wonderful lover, only last night. Were you only saying that to spare my feelings?"

Liz started to panic. She was losing control of the dialogue because Mike wasn't sticking to the script they had prepared for. "No, darling, you are the best lover a girl could have, but I think we both need more variety to bring us closer together."

Mike tormented her by appearing to think deeply, and for far too long for her liking, as he continued to eat.

"So how would this work then?" He asked, taking a drink of his wine. He made a note to buy another case; it was very good. "It's not like I want to go clubbing to pick up women, all the women I work with know I'm married and there's no fucking way I'm putting my face on Tinder, where someone I know may recognise me."

She recoiled a bit at the vehemence in his last comment, but she soldiered on. His Tinder reference had given her an opening. "Perhaps I could help then. I think I've heard a chap who works at the dealership with me make references to 'swinging'. Maybe, if I understood him correctly, I could approach him discretely and have him put us in touch with couples with the same... Issues."

"So," went Mike's internal dialogue. "There's a guy at work she wants to fuck. We're 'swinging' because 'wife swapping' highlights the reality that she'd be fucking just the same as me. And we need to do this because we have 'issues', though she won't, can't, say what they are."

He thought a while longer while he finished his meal. He'd miss her cooking if she insisted on going through with this lunacy. He'd miss her anyway, this apart, their marriage up until now had been good, so far as he was concerned anyway.

"You've hardly touched your meal," he observed as he stood up. "Meet me in the study when you're done and we'll talk more."

She tidied the kitchen, throwing most of her food into the bin. Then she followed him to the room he used as an office. He was sitting behind his desk with a pad in front of him and a pen in his hand. "Sorry to be going old school like this," he said, indicating the pen in his hand. "But I hate talking to someone at the same time as I'm taking notes on the computer."

She was completely at a loss. "What notes? What are you talking about?"

"Sorry?" His apparent puzzlement threw her even more. He continued. "Did you not just suggest to me that we should have sex with other people?"

"Well, yes but...."

"And did you hear me say that I wasn't interested in having sex with other women?"

She tried again, "Well, I know you haven't really had time to think..."

He spoke over her, "And surely that would be grounds for divorce?"

"No, not if we both..."

He had no intention of hearing what they both had to do. "So, it seems to me that you have given this a lot of thought, while I have only just now heard about your dissatisfaction with our marriage. In that case, as the self-appointed expert, you need to tell me what it is that you propose we may and may not do. I will tell you which parts, if any, I agree with, and I'll change those I don't. If, and only if, we reach agreement on these terms, we will have a solicitor prepare a document that, properly signed and witnessed, will set out the terms of our new, open marriage."

He smiled at her. "But, if you fuck anyone but me before that document is signed, I will divorce you on the grounds of your adultery."

She sat, stunned, for a moment, her stomach churning, glad she'd hardly eaten. She'd offered to find him other women willing to have sex with him and he'd thrown it right back in her face and outright threatened her with divorce.

"Come on then," his voice, surprisingly calm, broke into her thoughts. "Lets hear your terms and conditions. You've obviously given this a lot of consideration. Unless," he looked at her with deep suspicion. "Unless you've been groomed by some workplace sexual predator and now you're just parroting the nonsense they've fed you to get into your knickers. Have you been screwing someone at work already and this is you throwing me a sacrificial fuck to make up for it?"

By now Liz was on the back foot. "I swear that I have not had sex with anyone but you since we married." She told him, truthfully as it happened. "I just thought this would make our marriage stronger, because we wouldn't need to cheat."

"Not sure I follow your logic there my love, but never mind. Now, terms and conditions please." Suddenly her husband seemed like a stranger.

She looked up to see him staring expectantly at her, pen at the ready. "Well," she began. "I will find couples who want to swing..."

"No, no, no." He spoke over her again. "We can't have any euphemisms in a legal document. If you mean 'fuck each other's partners', say so. I can't put my name to any feeble attempt to dress this up as anything but what it is. I will not write 'swinging' to make you feel less of an adulterer."

She looked bemused. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"What I wanted was a wife who took her wedding vows as seriously as I did. That ship had apparently sailed before I even sat down to eat. What I want you to say is what form you want our mutual infidelity to take. So please, carry on."

She didn't stop to consider that she could have ended it there, apologised and asked for forgiveness for not realising how much her idea, however well intentioned, had already offended her husband. No. She was set on her course of action without thought that the consequences might not be the ones she anticipated.

So, having missed the opportunity she carried on. "Well then. I will find other couples who are interested in sex and you can fuck the woman while I am with..."

"No, no, no." he stopped her again. "With?" He demanded. "Fucking 'with'? Are you just intending to sit in a bar 'with' this man or are you going to climb into his bed so he can stick his dick in your cunt? Because if that's your intent, say so and stop trying to pretend that while I'm fucking her you're not fucking him. Can we agree on that?"

Her eyes started to fill up with tears of frustration, but he made no attempt to comfort her, Why try? She seemed determined to pursue this so he didn't feel obliged to make it any easier for her. He remained in his chair, pen poised, waiting for her to explain the rules of the game.

She took a deep breath and through the tears, she tried to start again. "I will find a couple who are interested in sex..."

He was relentless as he broke in again, "You will find? Oh, come on. Spare me the lies. You have already found someone, haven't you? You already know who you want to fuck so please do me the courtesy of being honest about it."

She had never seen him so angry and hurt; but still she ploughed on struggling to make herself understood through her own confusion. "There's a man at work who asked me to sleep with him. I want to, but I don't want you to leave me. He said you'd be okay with it if his wife let you fuck her. She doesn't mind doing it to keep him happy."

"At last," he said. "The truth. But no," his voice was calm now. "That's unacceptable. This isn't swinging. While it's not a lifestyle I want, at least there are rules, and participants choose their sex partners as a couple. In your bizarre fantasy, you get to fuck some random cock you met at work and I'm just supposed to be happy playing with the same player's skanky wife, who he pimps out to con other men's wives into fucking him? Not a chance! These are my terms. If you are so determined that you are prepared to ruin our marriage by having sex with this man, Then so be it! You fuck who you want. But you have no right to choose what I get to do."

"What about his wife?" Asked Liz, as she struggled to keep up.

"Are you fucking serious? What the Hell do I care about your lover's pathetic wife? Surely keeping her satisfied is his problem." he countered, also painfully aware that this seemed to be something he had failed to achieve in his own marriage. "So where would these sexual encounters have taken take place? I'm sure he's briefed you on what to say."

"You would meet her at a hotel, while I went to their house," she sniffled.

"Well as I shan't be going anywhere near her, that's saved me some money. I don't care where you fuck him or anyone else, apart from our bed. If you ever fuck another man, or woman, in that bed, our marriage, such as it is, ends there: And I will ruin him, you, your finances and your reputation."

She stared at the man who used to love her as she finally began to realise what she might have done; but still she clung to the irrational conviction that it could all be fine once he got used to the idea of her with other men.

"Well," he said. "It seems that you don't have much of a grasp on how infidelity works so you just piss off to bed and I'll leave you a copy of your adulterer's charter on the kitchen table for you to look at. If you have no objections, I'll try to have it ready to sign by Wednesday."

He turned to his computer and started typing, ignoring her presence. Liz wanted to say something; felt she should say something; but there was nothing left to say. She got up quietly and left the room. She sat for a while on the sofa in the living room but, when it was obvious Mike wasn't going to follow her, she went to bed.

She slept badly that night and though Mike eventually joined her in bed he pushed her away when she reached out to him. He was in the kitchen when she woke and he'd gone out when she got downstairs. There was a note. 'Batting practice. Back later. Mike'. Not 'love Mike', just 'Mike'.

There was a sheet of A4 paper next to the note. The heading was 'Adulterers Charter' and below there were bullet points listing how they could be unfaithful. They read:

Either party may have sex with any other person or persons of their choice.

Neither party will have sex with any person other than their spouse in the marital bed. Breach of this condition will lead to immediate divorce proceedings.

Each party must give 24 hours notice to the other party when they intend to have sex with a third party. In the event of notice being given, the notified party is free to make their own arrangements without notice.

Each party may only have two evenings per week away from the marital bed for extra-marital sex. A week being Monday to Sunday

Neither party is required to tell the other who they are engaging in sex with nor are they obliged to listen to the other party's accounts of their activities

Neither party is required to have sex with another person in order to facilitate the other party's sexual ambitions.

If the female party becomes pregnant it will be for her and the father of the child to agree a solution. The male party will not be expected to acknowledge or raise another man's child.

If the male party gets another person pregnant, it would similarly be his responsibility to find a solution. Note; the male party had a vasectomy prior to the marriage.

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Although Mike had made it clear from the outset that he did not want children, Liz felt cheated when she realised that he had pre-empted the option of her carrying his child. Perhaps a cynic might think that she was more concerned that she wouldn't be able to use parenthood to bind him to her

Sunday evening was uncomfortable for both of them. Mike didn't ignore her but he had nothing further he wanted to say and she had nothing he wanted to hear, apart from an apology and her desire to abandon her scheme. Neither was offered.

As she got ready for bed that night, she decided to wear a new, revealing negligee she had bought earlier that week as part of her plan to seduce her husband into agreeing to try the swinging scene. She was annoyed to find that there was still a price label attached, and she was aware enough of Mike's mood not to want to give him the chance to ask if that was the cost of the nightgown or its contents.

She searched her bedside drawers for something to remove the label without damaging the delicate fabric but then remembered that Mike kept scissors in his top drawer. She took the scissors and cut off the label. Only when she was putting the scissors back did she notice a new box of condoms in the drawer.

When Mike joined her in the room, she twirled in front of him. "Mike, you haven't touched me since we had our chat. I only want to make our marriage stronger. It's still me; don't you want to make love to me?"

He looked her. She was as beautiful as ever. Slim, firm, toned. Her silky blonde hair cascading over her shoulders; her breasts, untroubled by time, perky with pale pink nipples jutting through the sheer fabric. The hem of the negligee came to mid thigh but the material hid nothing and accentuated everything. The curve of her buttocks and the cleft between them revealed. Her smooth perfect thighs could be glimpsed through the transparency, even her mons tantalised through the folds of silk.

Mike walked round to his bedside drawers. Then he paused. "Do you give me your word you haven't been unfaithful me yet?"

She flinched at the word 'yet'; it reminded her that her husband still insisted that he regarded her intentions as infidelity despite her attempts to convince him that this was meant to be a shared expression of trust and to show him how much she loved him. "You have my word. I have not had sex with anyone but you since we married."

"Okay, we'll fuck; and as you've given me your word, I won't use a condom, this time."