My Wife, The Writer Ch. 01

I decided to check her sent file to see if she answered any of them, maybe telling them off like I suggested. I clicked on at least a half dozen replies. She wrote back to these perverts like they were good friends. I couldn't believe it. Why on earth would she write sweet letters to people like these. Was my Charly cheating on me? I honestly couldn't believe she would do it. I honestly couldn't. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I couldn't stop it. I knew I had to deal with this situation and it was tearing me up inside. I heard Charly come into the house. She yelled out, "Honey, are you home?" as she walked into the computer room.

She looked at my face and saw the tears. She quickly put down her packages and came over to me. "Honey, what's wrong? Are you okay? I've never seen you like this. What's the matter?"

I was devastated about what I read in her e-mails. I have never yelled or raised my voice to Charly. There was never any reason too. Now I wasn't sure.

I looked at Charly and said, "Why, Charly? Why did you let it go this far? Why didn't you tell me? Maybe we could have worked it out."

She was startled and ask, "What is it, Gary? What's wrong? Tell you about what?"

I clicked onto her deleted item folder. She said, "That's nothing, honey, just more feedback about my stories from my followers."

"This is not e-mail. It's porn. It's the same as phone sex only you don't get paid."

"How can you say that, Gary? They're just feedback letters from people who like my writing."

I spoke with my voice a little louder than usual, "Listen to what this nice gentleman says about your writing. 'Man, woman! You sound like the kind of slut I'd like to put my big black cock in.' Or this one, 'Damn, girl, my wife and I would sure like a threesome with you. My wife wants to lick that pussy of yours'. Here's another one. 'Damn, girl, you sound hot. Come to our college party and lets get those holes in your body filled up.' Now here is a couple. . ."

"Stop it, Gary, I know there's more, I read them."

"What about this one, Charly? 'Could you send a picture of your big beautiful tits so I can look at them while I masturbate. Please, I won't show anyone, I promise.'"

I looked at Carly, "Wow! They sure talk a lot about how great your stories are."

I continued, "Sounds like you really like receiving this kind of e-mail. Do you get turned on knowing all these people want you, Charly?"

"I don't know Gary? I really haven't thought about it. I get so engrossed in my writing, I never paid it that much thought. I know I was always happy to get feedback from readers," replied Charly.

"These aren't your readers and fans, Charly. These are just people who want in your pants or to have e-mail sex with you. Kind of on-line sex. None of these e-mails I've read to you are readers. They're stalkers, looking for their next victim, and I think they found her."

"They mean nothing to me, Gary, honest. You're the only one I love, you're the only one I want to be with," cried Charly.

I then went and clicked on the sent tab on the computer. "Here's what's bothering me the most Charly. You answered all that garbage e-mail from all those sick fucks. Here let me read a couple of your replies to the ones I read you. 'Wow! A big black one, sound interesting.' Here's another, 'Nice proposition. Haven't had my pussy licked for a long time by a woman. Check me out when you're in our town.' You gave them our fucking town, Charly. They could show up at your door anytime."

"I didn't give them our address, Gary, just the town." She began to cry.

"Charly, this is a town of two thousand people. Yes, they could easily locate you. Maybe that's what you want? To that group of college guys you wrote, 'A group of young men sounds tempting but I don't think my husband would allow it.' Now I'll ask you about one more. The guy that asked for your picture so he could masturbate while reading your stories. You sent him a picture of your tits, didn't you, Charly?"

She looked at me and starting crying. I waited a few seconds before continuing. "I don't want to hear you lie to me so I'll tell you I know about the picture."

I pulled a copy of the picture out of my briefcase. "I sent you that e-mail. I was thinking about you while I was working and sent you that e-mail as a joke, hoping you would get a kick out of it. You sent me a picture of your breasts. At least you didn't show your face. You didn't even know it was me. You were so busy with your feedback friends that you didn't notice that you e-mailed the picture to my office computer. When I received it, I thought you were going along with the joke until now. You never knew it was me, did you? You sent a picture of your tits to a guy you thought was a complete stranger."

Charly was still crying. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just got so wrapped up in the feedback. Yes, I did send the picture and No, I didn't know it was you. I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean anything by writing all those letters. I just wanted to keep my readers interested, I guess."

"Charly, how many times do I have to tell you those are not your fucking readers. They're your stalkers. They want to rape and fuck you if you let them."

Then I went to one of the story sites and clicked on her comment section. "Charly, these are your readers. Notice the difference in comments. 'Loved your story, please write more.' 'Charly, love all your stories, you're one of the best.' 'Another great read, Charly, you are a professional.' 'Always look forward to your stories, don't forget us when you write your book.' 'You're husband is one lucky fellow to have such a talented wife. Congrats on your latest story.' See the difference? These are your true readers, the ones who want you for your writing."

I continued, "Charly, I'm deeply hurt. I don't know what to do. I love you with all my heart but my heart is being torn apart. You're going to have to make a choice."

"What, Gary? What choice? Please, Gary don't do this. You want me to choose between you and my writings. Please don't do this. God, you're my everything but my writing means so much to me."

*

End of chapter 1

Comments welcome

DG Hear