A Good Wife Shouldn't CheatbyFinishTheDamnStory©
A GOOD wife wouldn't fuck around - my ending to Sally Tart's A Good Wife Shouldn't Drink
Sally Tart shows us the collapse of a marriage, and the downfall of a stupid little slut, who gets caught up in the idea of screwing around with a big dick. The guy after her is of course, younger, handsome, has a foot long cock and is best friends with the husband.
Our genius cheating wife has unprotected sex, the best of her life, and gets knocked up. Her husband has had a vasectomy. That's where the original story ends.
One major issue I have with the story is the kids. In the beginning they say they are married 17 years and have two teenage kids. After the second, Marty got his vasectomy. Where are the kids in the story? If we figure they are somewhere around 16 and 14 years old, you think they'd be somewhere. At the weekend parties at their house, when everything is going on, where are the kids and their friends? On Marty's birthday, there's no family party, the husband and wife go out partying in the city, Sam and the Wife have screaming loud crazy sex all night long, and leave a passed out woman in the car outside. But no kids? Where the hell are the kids? Have they died, and she just forgot to tell us, because they're nowhere to be seen, other than to tell us they exist. Details like that irritate me. Sally never even gave the kids names or a sex. I'm gonna call them Eric, the oldest at sixteen, and Donna, the fourteen year old.
Also, they seem to live in a vacuum. No other friends or family. They have parties, but the only people there seem to be Sam and his latest girlfriend. When Sam leaves, they clean up. Nobody else is every mentioned. The wife doesn't seem to have a job, and no social life outside of the family and going to the gym. The way the author writes the story, there is nobody in the world, but the married couple, Sam and his date du jour.
This is a weird one. She behaves badly, but I don't think she's a horrible person. Her husband liked showing her off, and put an irresistible temptation in front of her, and didn't protect her. The lover was evil, and an experience seducer. She fell. The question here is how far.
This is not a BTB tale, but her infidelity has strong and lasting repercussions. I expect to be raked over the coals for this one. Enjoy.
There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.
For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
I knew I had to tell him some time. That morning I'd taken the pregnancy test, and I couldn't deny it any longer. I was pregnant. It wasn't my husband's.
The guilt was killing me. The fact that Sam was still coming around, and trying to feel me up when Marty wasn't looking was even worse. He wanted more, and there was no way we were going there. I couldn't help but recall the night spent with Sam, and the feelings he'd ignited. But I was a good wife, with one minor exception.
"Stop it," I'd hissed at him when he was over that afternoon. Marty had left the room, and Sam hadn't waited five seconds to stick his hand between my legs.
"When are we going to get together again, Jackie?" he asked.
"Never!" I said, pushing his hand away. "It was a mistake, and it is never going to happen again."
"Come on, don't be that way. You loved it and you know it. Those screams weren't fake," he smirked.
"I was drunk, and you're a complete asshole for hitting on your friend's wife. If he found out, he'd kill both of us."
Sam made a grab for my tit. "No he wouldn't. He'd whine and cry, and take you back, and probably apologize for not being man enough to keep you. He wouldn't stand a chance against me, and you know it."
I'd had enough. I might have been stupid once, and the sex may have been incredible, but I wasn't that kind of woman. I slapped him across the face as hard as I could, and when I saw his shocked look, I did it again, screaming at him. "Get your fucking hands off of me, you complete asshole!"
Marty caught the end of my tirade, and stepped into the room. "Sam. I think it's best that you leave. I don't like you upsetting me wife."
Sam stood, wearing a stupid smirk, and a nice red hand-print. "We were just kidding around. You need to teach your wife how to take a joke, man."
"Please leave," Marty said, and I could tell he was angry.
Sam shrugged. "Sure, let me know when she gets over her little snit."
Afterward, Marty sat down beside me on the couch. "What happened?"
I was stuck. How much could I actually tell him? "He . . . he won't leave me alone. He keeps touching me, he-he—" It was too much. I ran to the bedroom, locked the door and collapsed on the bed. My life was ruined. All because I got drunk and stupid.
I heard Marty knock on the door, and try the handle. He called my name out softly, but I couldn't face him. Not then. Not yet. How could I explain? I was pregnant, and the child wasn't his. My family was going to disown me.
Once I calmed down, I knew what I had to do. I pulled down the two largest suitcases from the top of the closet, and started packing my clothing. I picked out a half-dozen of my least sleazy panties and packed those, throwing all the rest away. They were a big part of what had gotten me in so much trouble. The stocking and garters went with them, as well as my shortest dresses and skirts.
I was almost done, when I heard Marty at the door again. "Go away, please Marty," I said, trying to stop from crying.
I was surprised when the door opened. Marty had unlocked it. He looked at me, and the suitcases. "What's going on Jackie?"
I couldn't help it. The tears started flowing. "You deserve better than me, Marty. I'm sorry. I'm going to go to my parent's if they'll let me stay with them. We'll talk about how to deal with the kids later. I'm sorry."
His arm was around me, hugging me. "Tell me what's wrong. Does this have anything to do with Sam this afternoon?"
"Please, Marty. Let me go. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I'm a bad wife. I'm sorry."
"Damn it, Jackie! Stop apologizing and tell me what's wrong? Have I done something? Is there someone else, another man you've fallen in love with?"
I could see how upset he was getting. "No, Marty. I love nobody but you, but I've screwed up. I've messed everything up." I collapsed onto the bed, sobbing. "I'm pregnant, Marty. Almost four weeks."
The look he gave me almost stopped my heart. I'd never seen such a look of disgust and anger. "Sam? Was that what this was all about?"
I nodded. "Four weeks ago, on your birthday. When we went out dancing. We all got drunk, you passed out. Sam fucked me. It was the only time, but it was enough."
"Did he force you?" Marty asked through gritted teeth.
I shook my head. "He . . . he pressured me, but he didn't force me. I said no a lot, but in the end I went along with it, and I didn't stop him. I was drunk, and he was insistent."
Marty started pacing the room, and I almost peed myself when he turned and drove his fist through the wall. This was a part of Marty I'd never seen before. "God Damn it, Jackie!" he screamed. "You knew what kind of guy he was. You couldn't say no?"
"I was drunk, Marty. He, he kept teasing me, rubbing his big cock against me, telling me dirty things. I was drunk and horny, and I screwed up. I told him it was a mistake, but he won't leave me alone now." I thought about sharing the blame. Telling him it was his fault for making me dress slutty. The stupid role-playing in bed. If he'd stayed sober and awake it wouldn't have happened. But in the end, I couldn't blame anybody but myself. If I was honest with myself, I was interested, excited, and I let it happen. I didn't stop it from starting, and I let it keep going. I even let the bastard fuck me in my own bed, next to my husband. Hell, at the end I was begging for it.
"So that's it? You fucked around and now you're leaving me? Going to him, are you? You know he'll dump you; you're just a notch on his belt." The look he gave me was devastating. Nothing but disgust.
"No, baby. You have to believe me. I know what he's like. I don't love him, I don't even like him. I want nothing more to do with him. I told you, I'm going home to my parents, if they'll let me, after they find out what a disappointment I am. You deserve better than me, Marty. You don't need a stupid slut carrying someone else's baby."
He was stomping back and forth, agitated, and he stopped right in front of me. I looked up and saw him gazing down at me, tears in his eyes. "Why, Jackie? Wasn't I enough for you? Aren't I a good husband?"
"God, don't think that way, Marty! You're a great husband. The only thing you did wrong was drink too much and leave me with him."
I kept asking myself the same question. "I was curious. His girlfriend's kept bragging about how big he was, how great he was in bed. He kept teasing me with it, rubbing it against me when we were dancing, telling me all the things I needed to hear, how attractive I was, how hot, how much he wanted me. I got drunk and let my defenses down, and you were passed out, unable to protect me. I wasn't looking for it, but I couldn't stop it once it started. I'm sorry I'm so weak. I never meant for it to happen."
He just stared at me, silent. I waited for him to start screaming at me, telling me what a slut I was. A stupid little whore. Cheating wife. I knew the phrases, I'd said them to myself enough times. The wait was agonizing, I just hoped he wouldn't hurt me too badly. I saw how he hit the wall. I never saw his anger manifest itself that way. I was terrified, but I'd take it. I deserved it.
A good wife didn't get drunk. A good wife didn't fuck around. A good wife didn't get knocked up by her husband's friend.
"Unpack," he said.
"Unpack!" he snapped. "I'll be downstairs. I need some time to digest this. To figure out what we're going to do. Who else knows?"
"Nobody. I couldn't say anything, I was too ashamed. Nobody but us."
"Us and Sam, that fucking bastard," Marty growled.
"And Sam," I admitted.
He turned his back on me, "Unpack, clean up this mess, and meet me downstairs when you're ready."
~ * ~ * ~
It was a long, painful evening. I explained the night, and when he wanted details, I tried to be honest, without hurting him. I didn't deny that I enjoyed the sex, and that there was a lot of it. I even confessed to doing it in the bed next to him. His face was so red, the veins in his forehead looked like they were about to burst. I couldn't, I just couldn't, tell him how I'd involved him, how Sam had wanted to humiliate him.
I was hurt when he asked me how many other men there had been, and how often I'd met with Sam. I think he believed me when I assured him there had been no other men, and Sam had zero chance of ever being with me again.
I was afraid Marty would get drunk, but he was drinking coffee. "I'm sorry I invited him into our lives, Jackie. I knew what kind of man he was. I believed him when he assured me it was all only teasing, and he would never screw over a friend. That was my mistake."
"I've been drinking too much. I can see that contributed to the problem. I'm pretty sure Sam went out of his way to get me as drunk as possible, but I could have stopped. I passed out on my own birthday. Obviously, it's a problem. I'll deal with it."
I wasn't going to argue, and I could tell he had more to say.
He gave a big sigh, and looked at me with such disappointment I wanted to curl up in a ball and die. "None of that excuses what you did."
"I know. Don't you think I see that? I'm not blaming any of it on you. I knew what he was, and what he wanted. I didn't stop him. Once it started, I was an enthusiastic participant, I'm ashamed to say. There's no excuse."
He looked at me long and hard. "What do you want now, Jackie? Do you want a divorce? Are you going to abandon your family, and explore your big cock options, now that I'm no longer enough?"
God, I'd hurt him. I could hear it in his voice. "Don't say that! Please, you're all I want, all I've ever wanted. I want my husband and family, but I don't see how. I'm pregnant, Marty. I'm an adulteress, who got knocked up. I'm almost 36 years old, and I'm a cliché." I broke down crying as I realized my own plight. "I'll be almost sixty years old before my child leaves home. I've ruined everything."
"I won't raise another man's child, Jackie. I can't. You need to understand that. I love you, and I want to be with you, but there's no way I'm going to stare at the evidence of your adultery every day for the next 19 years. I can't do it."
"But what can I do, Marty?"
"It's your decision. The way I see it, you have one of three choices. You can have an abortion, you can carry it to term and give it up for adoption, or you can keep the baby and raise it with your next husband."
When he said next husband, the truth hit me like an oncoming freight train. The next thing I knew, he was lifting me off the floor, and carrying me to the couch. His arms felt so good around me. So warm and caring. I was afraid that once I'd told him I'd never feel them again.
He held me in his lap, and I looked up to see the tears rolling down his face. "What a mess," he murmured softly, stroking my hair.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'd do anything to turn back time and stop it."
"It's gonna kill the kids," he said. "They know we can't have children. How do you think they're going to take your pregnancy? What kind of message are we sending them?"
All I could do was cry.
~ * ~ * ~
He helped me pack the second time. He understood my need to go home, to decide what I was going to do.
"Do you really want to keep me?" I asked, for the hundredth time.
He rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? I love you, and you're the mother of my children. The kids need their Mom. Things will have to change, and you need to know that if it ever happens again, there won't be a second chance, but I can forgive you this once. What I can't, and won't do is raise another man's child."
At the airport, he gave me a long hug. "Don't be too long. I miss you already," he said.
"Do you still love me, Marty? After everything?"
He gave me a soul-penetrating kiss. "I love you. I'll always love you."
"Give the kids my love. I'll call when I get there. I'm sorry, and I love you more than anything. Thank you for giving me a second chance."
I boarded the plane with tears in my eyes, and an upset stomach. I had morning sickness. I had made a mess of my life.
~ * ~ * ~
My parents were understandably shocked and upset. My father wouldn't speak to me for two days. My sister came by on the third and she and Mom read me the riot act.
I knew the right thing to do for my family was to have an abortion, but I didn't believe in them, nor did my family. It wasn't the baby's fault that I was a fuck-up. I knew that's what Marty wanted, although he never said as much. He knew the way I felt.
I also knew I couldn't imagine my life without Marty and the kids. If I kept the baby, it meant divorce, and probably an ugly one. I wouldn't abandon my children, I'd need them. Was it fair to break up the family, and force them to live on half-wages? I hadn't had a job in years, and wouldn't be able to earn anywhere near what Marty did. I didn't doubt that Marty would treat me well, whatever happened, but both our lives would be a mess, and what would happen to me, once the kids were in college? When he said he wouldn't raise another man's kid, I'm pretty certain he wouldn't pay child support for them either.
The kids didn't seem to see any big deal with me leaving to spend time with the family. They'd talk with me for a few minutes if they were home, but they always seemed eager to do something else. I was feeling desperately lonely and depressed.
It had been almost a week, when I called and told him what I had decided. We'd already been through the daily chat, talking about what was going on in our lives. Of course I never had much to say, but I heard about the kids activities, and his work.
"I think I've made a decision," I said nervously.
I waited for him to respond, but all I heard was quiet. "Marty? Are you there? I said I made a decision."
"Go on," is all he said.
"I . . . I'm gonna have the baby. I'll give it up for adoption. I'm still young enough where there shouldn't be any health issues. Our insurance should cover everything."
"I see," he said quietly. "You're gonna bring that asshole's kid into the world, with no thought about your family."
I knew it would be difficult. "Baby, this is hard for me. We've gone over it and over it here. I can't kill a baby. You know how I feel about abortion."
"And you know how I feel about adultery and raising another man's child."
"But you won't! I'll be giving it up for adoption."
"For the last five weeks I've been raising another man's child. It's taken you away from us. I'll be paying for its care, its doctor appointments, and hospital bills.I'll be losing you to that bastard's child."
I really thought he'd be happier about it. I'd chosen him, our family. "It's the best choice, Marty. Eight months from now it'll be behind us."
"You gonna stay there, or do you want me to find you an apartment," he said.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I'd already purchased my ticket home. "No, I'm coming back to you. You and the kids."
"I don't want you here. I told you I didn't want the kids exposed to seeing you pregnant with another man's child. I don't like the message you're sending them. It's wrong. I won't have them looking at me knowing I'm a willing cuckold. That I can't take care of business. That their mother is a cheating slut."
"Be reasonable, Marty. I can't stay here. I need to have my kids around me. I need you, I miss you."
"Not enough, I guess, to do the right thing. It's your choice Jackie. But I'm not going to roll over. If you come back, I'm leaving. I won't be shamed and humiliated in front of my kids. We can work out the divorce details when you get back."
"But I don't want a divorce! I made a mistake, but I'm trying to do the right thing for all of us. You have to understand—"
"I understand perfectly well. You want to have Sam's child. You want me to be Ok with it. You want our kids to see your belly get big with that bastard. You probably figure we're going to get attached to it, and eight months from now you'll tell me you want to keep it. It's not going to happen."
"This is crazy, Marty. I'm coming home the day after tomorrow. We can talk about it. You'll see this is the best decision for all of us. I love you, and need you now."
"I won't be here. I'll find an apartment. You're going to have to find a job, I'm not paying you a penny more than the courts require, and if I find that it's too much, I'll leave and find a job in another state."
"Damn it, Marty! Stop it! We're not getting a divorce. Who's going to hire a pregnant woman anyway? And I know there's no way you're leaving your kids behind. We can get past this."
"Oh, I'm already past it. And you're right. I won't be leaving the kids behind when I leave."
I could hear the anger in his voice, and knew that any more talk would make it even worse. "Just remember I love you, Marty. Only you. I'm doing this for us."
He laughed. He laughed at me. "For us. Right. Just remember what I said. I'm not going to raise another man's child. Not even for eight months. I won't have you flaunting your infidelity in front of the children. If you come back here pregnant, I'm leaving, and I'll tell the children exactly why."