We Need to Talk DavebyBritease©
Another little 'we need to talk' type story, so you can probably guess roughly where it will be going. Hope you enjoy the ride, but sorry, as usual, no graphic sex.
"Dave," she mumbled. "We need to talk. There's something we need to sort out."
"Sure Gwen," I answered, glancing up at my wife with a grin. "What's up?"
"Put that bloody newspaper down for a moment and listen to me," she snapped, catching my attention, though in all honesty I was still rating Arsenal's chances against Chelsea that weekend. Let's be honest now, the newspaper was suggesting that maybe Walcott might not be fully fit after his knock last week.
"Yes dear," I relented, folding the paper in my lap, even though I kept a good hold onto it, hoping that she might not notice.
"Last Month," she stated simply, and stood there staring at me.
"What about it?" I replied in all innocence. "It was bloody hot."
"That week end," she went on.
"What week end?" I queried, though already I felt an unease flowing over me.
"You know damn well what week end," she spat out. "The week end when you and your damn three friends went off on that bloody, stupid, so called, fucking, invented, childish fishing trip."
"Oh that week end," I replied, limply, the newspaper falling from my hands. Chances were, I could be in trouble! "What about it?"
"You know what?" I squirmed.
"I know what you did," she stated, glaring at me.
"We went fishing," I flustered, somehow knowing that I was on a loser, but floundering for something to say.
"And the last evening," Gwen demanded, and I knew I was lost.
I'm a partner in a small speciality building business. There's me, the so called brainy one with the qualifications, Ted who sorts the paperwork out, and Mike and Nick who provide the brawn and the on site know-how, and cajole our construction teams into doing what they have to do, faster and maybe better than they otherwise might.
We're a bit of a mixed bag but we get on fine and the four of us and our other halves have become pretty good friends.
Last August, the four of us guys had gone off on a long week end fishing trip, though in all honesty Ted was the only one who knew one end of a rod from the other. We floated around on some sort of boat, three of us more interested in keeping the beer cool than what bait we were using, and most evenings saw us downing pints, down at the local pub.
Then we got to the final night, didn't we!
"Let's go into town," suggested Mike. "There's a bit more life at the coast and we could have some fun."
"Not sure I'm feeling up to it," I protested, but I was over-ruled, and to be fair, I wasn't exactly that upset about it.
So there we were, all done up in our casual finery, and trying to act as we had when we'd been in our twenties a decade or more before. The beer was good and plentiful, the music loud and generally terrible, but the scenery pretty interesting.
"Bloody hell," growled Nick as a pretty slim little teenage girl flounced by us wearing a wisp of a mini skirt that she didn't ought to be bending over in, and an excuse for a top that covered her tits but otherwise did little to restrain them. "I wish I was ten years younger."
"More like fifteen," piped up Ted with a chuckle. "Even then you wouldn't get a look in."
"What about this one then," I interrupted them indicating yet another young girl who made the first one look almost overdressed, her shorts leaving the greater part of the cheeks of her bottom on display and her top fighting a potentially loosing battle to contain her plentiful and bountiful breasts, which were swaying around as she walked towards us and threatened to sway right out of her top.
"Damn!" exploded Ted.
"Double damn," Mike added. "Are them nipples real, or has she got some wine corks stuck on her tits?"
Nick and I simply glanced at one another and agreed with them. These young girls were out to enjoy themselves and were dressed to make sure that their clothes didn't get in the way.
Now probably nothing further would have happened, three of us being happily married and Mike, though single with a special girl back at home, but we hadn't allowed for the hen party.
Well sort of.
Yes the resort catered to all sorts and that very evening there was a group of four, thirty something girls right there celebrating one of them getting her divorce. Weren't even sure which one it was, as they all seemed to be wearing a wedding ring when they rolled up at our table and asked, no demanded, that they join us.
"Sure," Mike agreed, gathering a few chairs from the table next door, and none of us thought to argue.
"What are you four doing here then?" asked the big buxom blonde.
"Fishing," laughed back Mike, not offering any further explanation.
"Ok, so you've hooked me handsome," the blonde responded, quite blatantly lifting her top to flash her bare tits at us, but him in particular. "What are you going to do about it?"
To our surprise, but maybe not to hers, Mike promptly stood up, took her arm and wandered off with her, and that was the last that we saw of the pair of them that night.
"Trust Gloria," giggled the slim dark haired one. "She's such a slut."
"Mike's not married," pointed out Nick.
"Gloria's husband need never know," giggled the slightly overweight one, and that about set the tone for the rest of the night, as our conversation became more and more salacious and raunchy as the evening wore on.
"Aren't any of you wearing a bra?" Nick demanded, his sixth, or was it his seventh beer having long since loosened his tongue.
"No bras and no panties," squealed back one of them. "We made a pact to go out for the night with no underwear."
"Prove it," challenged Ted, and bugger me if they didn't, all three of them, right there in front of us, and in the middle of that pub to boot.
"Do that again," called out Nick as the three of them, giggling like schoolgirls, pulled their short skirts back down.
"Come back to our hotel and we'll show you more than that," promised the redhead, probably the prettiest one of the bunch and the one that had been making up to me.
We refused of course.
Like hell we did.
Seven pints of best bitter did the talking, and with three pretty women with their tits hanging out and without a pair of panties between them decided the matter for us, and five minutes later we were paired off and strolling arm in arm with our chosen one back to their rather sleazy hotel ten minutes down the road.
"Look lads," I whispered to the other two when we had found ourselves alone when the girls went off to the toilet together. "We'll just stay half an hour or so -- OK?"
"Yes," agreed Ted. "Mess about a bit. A bit of slap and tickle and we'll be on our way."
"I'm with you there," Nick went along with us. "If my Jilly ever found out then she'd cut my dick off."
Seven pints of beer or thinking with our little brains, it didn't work out that way, and the early hours of the following morning found the three of us slinking guiltily away wishing like hell that we'd stuck to our promises. To be honest, wishing we'd never agreed to go fishing in the first place.
"And the last evening?" Gwen demanded.
"What about it?" I played for time.
"Those four sluts you picked up?"
"Yes them," she snapped at me. "Want to tell me about them?"
"Well Mike went off with one of them, Gwen," I tried to head her off, not knowing how much she actually knew, and not even dropping Mike into it as he wasn't actually married.
"And the redhead?" she questioned me and I knew there was no longer any point in trying to be evasive. Best to just come clean and hope for the best.
"We'd had too much to drink honey,' I relented. "I'm not denying something went on, but I don't remember too much."
"So you admit it," Gwen snarled angrily. "You went to bed with that redhead and fucked her all night long."
"That's not completely true," I replied honestly, trying to stay calm. "I did maybe mess around with her, but the state I was in, it was over and done with in a couple of minutes, and then we both dozed off."
"And the next morning?"
"No way," I protested, honestly. "When I woke up I felt awful about what had happened; ashamed of myself. Besides she didn't look nearly as attractive as she had the night before."
"Would it have made any difference if she had?" My wife quizzed me, her face an unreadable mask, and leaving me with an unenviable task. Should I give her the politically correct answer, or tell the truth.
I went with the latter.
"I'm not sure," I admitted quietly. "I'd like to think not. I doubt that I could have forgiven myself, Gwen, so I'm just glad I didn't."
"As it happens I believe you Dave," I was relieved to hear her say.
"Thanks honey," I smiled uncertainly at her. "We can get past this. We both love one another and have a great marriage. I'll do what it takes Gwen, honestly.
While I struggled for more words to plead my case she just stood there staring at me, till at last she broke the silence.
"Don't think you're getting off that lightly you bastard," Gwen informed me, her voice frighteningly calm and precise. "I'm meeting with the other girls this evening to discuss what we're going to do."
"They all know?"
"Of course they do you fool," she retorted, her temper flaring up again. "How the hell do you think I found out?"
"One of the guys spilled the beans?" I asked. "Which one? Who opened his mouth?"
"That's for us to know and you to worry about. I'm meeting up with Kim and Jilly and hopefully Mary, Mike's girlfriend. We're going out for a night on the town and we might be back late."
"For God's sake don't do anything silly Gwen," I pleaded. "Two wrongs don't make a right."
"We're not planning to, but who knows, and your opinion doesn't count any more. We're meeting to discuss what to do about you four and how to make you pay."
"Please don't do anything that we'll both regret Gwen," I begged her. "It won't help; anything but that."
"We'll see," she ended the conversation, and brushed past me on her way to our bedroom, leaving me sat there in despair.
Considering how long she normally took to get ready when we went out, Gwen was back down remarkably quickly, done up to the nines in probably the shortest dress she owned, the highest pair of heels in her wardrobe, and by the way her breasts were swaying around under the thin dress, hadn't bothered with a bra.
She looked gorgeous and desirable, and in that flimsy dress, worryingly vulnerable, and even worse, frighteningly available.
"Don't do it Gwen," I repeated my warning.
"Doesn't feel so good when it's the other way round does it arsehole?"
"I didn't plan it Gwen," I pointed out. "It just happened because we'd had too much to drink."
"I'm not planning anything honey," she sneered at me. "I'm just going out for a drink with the girls, but who knows what might happen if I drink too much."
I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to be drawn further in. Short of tying her up, then there wasn't much more I could do about it, and deep down I reluctantly accepted that I wasn't really in a position to complain too much.
Deep down, I didn't honestly think she would do anything stupid, and her threats were her way of punishing me.
Ok, so that I could take.
"Do the washing up while I'm out," she growled at me.
"Clear up the mess you've made in the living room."
"The washing machine needs emptying."
"There's a pile of ironing in the kitchen."
"You're kidding me," I rebelled.
"You might prefer that to some other ideas I've got," Gwen all but screamed at me, her temper really boiling up by then.
"I'll think about it," I retreated unhappily. If it came down to a choice between doing some bloody ironing or my wife being unfaithful to me, then there was little choice, was there.
It was a very unhappy little me that was left there as Gwen stormed out without another word.
Dring Dring ...... Dring Dring .....
"Hi, Dave -- It's Ted," I was greeted when I picked up the phone, ten minutes later. "Has Gwen left yet?"
"Just stormed out," I informed him. "How about Kim?"
"Stormed out hardly describes it mate. I thought she was going to take the bread knife to me."
"What about Nick and Jilly?" I asked.
"Same thing mate. He's in the doghouse the same as us two. They're all off out for a night on the town, and Lord knows what they'll get up to."
"What about Mary?" I demanded. "How's she been with Mike?"
"No idea," Ted replied. "I suspect that it was him that spilled the beans but it doesn't really matter now. If it was then he'll be suffering."
"And we aren't?" I queried.
"Not yet," Ted answered. "But it looks like we might be doing so soon."
We didn't chat on much more and when he rang off I called Nick, only to be told by his teenage daughter that 'Mummy and Daddy had a huge argument. Then Mummy went out somewhere and Dad's gone down the pub.'
Mike never even answered his phone!
It was a pretty miserable few hours that I spent, not because I hated doing the washing up etc., but trying to get my mind round something that I hated even thinking about. Would Gwen do something stupid tonight? I thought not, at least not of her own volition, but she was out with Jilly, and gorgeous though she was, Jilly had a mind of her own. She had a strong feminist streak in her and had frequently clashed with Ted and me, albeit that it had been more a case of us teasing and her over-reacting.
That's what worried me. Over-reaction!
I just prayed that the three of them wouldn't rush into something we'd all live to regret, and that they'd take their time to talk it through, and somehow or other manage to get over what us, their stupid, drunk husbands had done.
It was with some relief therefore that just after eleven thirty, I heard a car pulling up outside, and a few minutes later the door opened and Gwen walked in. I was pleased to see that nothing seemed abnormal, and she looked as neat and tidy, and as gorgeous for that matter, as she had when she went out. Not a hair on her pretty head out of place.
She stood there looking agitated for a few moments before speaking.
"Did you do the washing up?"
"Yes, and the ironing," I replied, and I'm sure I detected a hint of a smile on her face.
"Are we going to bed?" she astonished me with.
"How did tonight go?" I asked uncertainly.
"It went well," she smiled to herself. "Don't worry, there aren't any surprises for you when we go to bed."
"So what did you talk about?"
"We'll discuss it tomorrow," she insisted. "Let's go to bed."
Well .... When in the position that I found myself in, and your wife suggests that we go to bed three times in as many sentences, then why argue? Especially when the wife's a pretty slim blonde like mine and had her top off before she even got to the bedroom.
Suffice to say that the night ended up, however puzzling it may seem, far better than I had any right to expect.
Trouble was of course, was it the calm before the storm?
The following morning was as totally unreal, as the sex the night before had been unexpected. She was up and showered before me as normal, and by the time I got downstairs, breakfast was on the go. We talked like any other morning before we both left for work, and the two times I led the conversation round to our problem, then she glared at me silently, shutting me up. Not surprisingly I didn't push it.
"Will you be home at the normal time Dave?" Gwen asked me, as she prepared to leave to catch her train.
"I guess so," I responded, still puzzled by her attitude.
"Don't be late," she told me with a smile. "I'll cook something special."
"No need for that honey," I found myself telling her, still confused as hell.
"Oh yes there is honey," she grinned at me as she waltzed out of the house. "We haven't talked about last night yet."
When I got to the office the other three were already there and engaged in heavy conversation. Mike thoroughly denied that he'd let the cat out of the bag, as did the rest of us, and it was only much later that we discovered that Mike's girlfriend decided to have him followed. Apparently Mike had been a naughty boy prior to that night, so us three weren't too pleased that his philandering had rebounded on the lot of us.
"You all did it that night though," he pointed out and we couldn't deny it.
The day was a wash out for the lot of us, and none of the others could throw any light on what our women had got up to the previous night, or what they had discussed or planned. Mike wasn't even sure if Mary had been there, as she hadn't responded to his calls, which probably wasn't surprising with hindsight.
About my normal time I got home and was greeted by a frighteningly friendly Gwen with a kiss on the cheek, and sat down to my favourite dinner, which she'd prepared, and a bottle of good claret.
"I suppose you want to know what we got up to last night," she hit me with, as she came back into the room with a second bottle of wine.
"I was wondering," was my nervous reply.
"What would you say if I told you we'd picked up four studs and gone back to their hotel and let them fuck us silly?"
"I'd hope you weren't telling me the truth," I answered sullenly.
"Well we didn't," Gwen breezed on. "We got hit upon several times and we could have, but we didn't do anything but talk."
"Talk?" I queried, feeling more relaxed.
"Talk and plan," she carried on as if I hadn't said anything. "We all discussed how we were going to get our payback."
"Lots of new pairs of shoes?" I joked weakly, but she didn't laugh and it didn't go down well. It didn't go down well at all.
"Well you might as well know that we, all four of us, are going to equal things up honey."
"Now look here Gwen," I growled angrily. "If you think I'm going to stand for you going out and picking guys up at some bar for the next few weeks, then you've got another think coming. I did it once when I was drunk, and I hardly even remember if I even really did it, for Christ's sake."
"That's not the plan," she surprised me with.
"Oh .... Well .... What ...."
"Just once! You won't know with who and you won't know when. All you need to know is that it is going to happen. Just the once and then we'll be even and can get on with our lives."
"As if nothing had ever happened?" I queried.
"That may be difficult," my wife conceded. "But if you try then so will I."
"There must be another way Gwen," I pleaded with her, but there wasn't. Not at least as far she was concerned. The four girls had discussed it and dissected it and reassembled it, and argue as I would there was no budging her. It was accept it or get on my bike as far as she was concerned, and when I talked to Ted and Nick, they both seemed to be in exactly the same boat. As for Mike, then although we knew that Mary had been with our wives and involved in the discussion, she still hadn't responded to any of his calls yet.
Give up and suck up, and take our punishment was the attitude that Ted and I were cornered into, but Nick was all for telling his wife to get lost if she went through with it. Mike, the bastard was beginning to lose interest in our problems and must have already decided that the grass was greener elsewhere.
Back home things carried on as normal as if nothing had indeed happened, and I convinced myself, or perhaps kidded myself that Gwen's threat was just that. Something to make us sweat and certainly something to make sure that we never strayed again. Eventually, about a week or so later, Ted must have come to the same conclusion, and pointedly avoided all reference to our wives threats, and even Nick stopped muttering threats regarding his wife under his breath. I guess we'd all put it behind us and it was all smiles again both at home and at work. Even Mike apparently picked up some girl, and though he didn't talk much about her, so I guess she was no Mary, she was pretty obviously keeping him happy.