To Have and to Cuckold Pt. 03

I would know when she was ready for me to come home. She would call me and complain that I Ieft her there by herself while I went out to have fun with my friends. Of course, this would be hours later. We both knew that she enjoyed it when I left, but instead of saying "thank you" she made it my fault. Her accusations never packed any real venom, and we both knew that this was her way of saying that she missed me. So I let it slide. I would let her know that I was on my way home and apologize for "being so selfish".

She made sure to punish me repeatedly for my thoughtlessness.

I asked her to marry me when we were walking in the park one day. I made it sound like some off the wall suggestion. She stopped walking, looked at me and said, "No."

My heart broke, but I tried not to show it. I pretended like it was just a suggestion and tried to change the subject and start walking again, but she grabbed my arm.

"I said no because you weren't really asking me. When you are serious about proposing to me, you will buy a ring, make some extravagant subterfuge to throw me off, and then surprise me in front of dozens of other people by dropping to your knee."

"Will you say yes?"

She pretended to think about it. "I don't know. I guess you'll just have to ask to find out."

So it came as no surprise when I dropped down to one knee at a Christmas party held at my parents' house and asked her to be my wife. In case you're wondering, she said yes.

******************

THE PRESENT - September 2015

For the first time in days, I feel the urge to get out of my sister's basement. I look at my half eaten, soggy sandwich and my stomach growls. The fact that I actually think about finishing it makes me realize that I am hungrier than I thought.

It's around midnight, so I silently creep upstairs to see what I can find in my sister's fridge. As I nimbly make my way into the kitchen, I hear something that makes me pause. My body stops moving as I perk my ears to recognize the noise. I hear it again. It sounds familiar, yet foreign. Oh fuck! It's a moan.

Slowly, stealthily, I take baby ninja steps towards the sound. As I turn the corner, I almost lose what little I have on my stomach.

Right there, on her living room couch, my sister is getting ploughed by a muscular ass. I can't really see her fully. All I see of her is her socked feet above his shoulders, and her small hands on his thighs. He is standing with his legs apart for leverage, so I also get the added view of his dick savagely invading her as his balls bounce off of her. The lewd sound of wet, slapping skin fills my ears.

"Fuck me Jerry! Make me take that dick!"

I stand immobilized. It isn't eroticism that keeps me there; after all, she's my sister! It is pure shock.

She finally opens her eyes and sees me. She has a moment of that Exploding Noema Syndrome that I mentioned earlier. That moment passes quickly though, and she launches Jerry off of her.

"Oh my God! What the fuck! Josh! Get out of here!"

My mind and body are on two different wavelengths. I try to scramble out of there, but trip several times before getting my footing. Once I'm safe in the confines of the basement, my mind replays everything that I saw. Much to my chagrin.

Above me, I hear frantic movement across the floor, which by my guess is them hurriedly getting dressed. When it calms down, I figure that it's time to face the music and get this inevitable awkward encounter over with. Time isn't going to make it any less uncomfortable.

"Are you guys decent?" I yell out as I open the basement door. I have to make myself stop from laughing when I hear my sister's embarrassed voice answer me in the affirmative.

I lose the battle of not laughing when I enter the living room and see them sitting on the couch with a gap between them big enough to fit me in. That is funny enough, but upon further inspection, I see the reason why. There is a big wet spot on the cushion that they are avoiding.

"If you guys don't mind, I'll be sitting over here. You know, where it's dry." I say, pointing to chair across the room. Trina covers her face in embarrassment. I know that I shouldn't enjoy this as much as I am, but this is the first real laugh that I'd had in a week.

"How's it hanging Jerry?" I joke. My sister looks like she is ready to pass out.

"What do you want Josh?" She quickly interjects, not even giving Jerry a chance to answer my obvious set up. Her voice is stern, but with her cheeks are flushed. Her normal assertive Trina-like demeanor is gone. I rarely see her like this, so it's a real treat for me.

"I just came up here to get something to eat sis. Don't want my sugar to get too low. You did make a promise you know." I smirk at her, still enjoying the discomfort that she is feeling.

Trina glowers at me with a look that should have shot lasers through me. My feigned innocent expression does nothing but antagonize her. As it is supposed to.

For some odd reason, the happy couple just aren't in the mood for loving anymore. They say their goodbyes and Jerry finally leaves, giving my sister a peck on the lips.

Gee, I hope it wasn't something I said.

As I watch the exchange between them, I am struck by the way Jerry looks at Trina. It is very reminiscent to the way another man had looked at her once upon a time. The way I looked at Naomi before all of this. Like nothing else matters.

"Good seeing you Jerry." I shout as he makes his way out the door. By now he is less embarrassed about the situation. My sister is still unable to look me in the eyes, but Jerry is actually smiling about the whole thing. I guess there are worse things that a guy can get caught doing than fucking the shit out of a pretty girl. He gives me a head nod in response. "Later Josh."

With him gone, Trina shoots daggers into me with her eyes.

"I've been trying to get you out of the basement for days. You pick NOW to get your head out of your ass?"

Irony can be funny. Well, at least to me it is. Trina looks less amused.

"Well, how was I to know that his head was in your ass?"

Her face screws up as she throws something at me. I don't know what it is, but it sails in another direction, missing me completely.

"Ewww. Gross Josh. Do you kiss Henry with that mouth?"

"Do you kiss YOUR kids that that mouth? I'm sure it was just doing worse things than mine."

"Kiss my ass Josh!" Her words don't have any ire in them. In fact, there is a smile creeping on her face, like she is finally conceding to the fact that she was caught with her pants down. Pun intended.

"No thank you. That's Jerry's job." I yell out as she strolls into the kitchen. She returns with two cokes and hands me one. I guess sweaty, raunchy sex can build up a thirst. After a couple of sips she gives me a serious smile.

"I am glad to see you up and at 'em."

"Yeah. I may have to fight the urge to stick a rusty fork in my eyes, but other than that I feel better. Well, as good as I could feel with a wife who fucks other people."

She nods sympathetically and takes another sip. "You gonna talk to her?"

The only response I can give is a shrug of my shoulders. Things get awkwardly quiet for a moment until I ask, "What's it like sis, you know, with him gone?"

By "him" I was referring to her late husband and my niece's and nephew's father. Carlos was a cop who was shot in the line of duty while doing a routine traffic stop. He didn't realize that the beat down Honda that he pulled over for speeding was stolen and had a trunk full of drugs with a driver on his third strike.

"Lonely. Fucking lonely." Now it's my turn to nod.

"Do you ever get over it?"

She sadly shakes her head. "No. Never. Especially when little Carlos looks so much like him. There isn't a day that goes by that something doesn't remind me of him. I used to play this game with myself where I try to imagine what Carlos would do or say when the kids did something good like come home with a good grade or something bad like rub bubble gum in each other's hair."

I selfishly start thinking about what my life would look like without Naomi in it. I don't like the empty void feeling that follows that thought.

"Does Jerry help?"

She gives me a slight laugh and she looks up dreamily. "Jerry's great. He helps. He's funny, sexy as hell, and really sweet. But he's not Carlos."

I have to agree with her on that. Carlos was one of a kind.

Trina worked for the DA's office when she met him. Still does in fact. Carlos Senior, my late brother in law, had the hots for her from the moment he saw her. He often joked that the first time he saw her ass in a fitted pleated skirt he knew he would marry her.

He pursued her big time. He would drive up to the office a few times a week when he was patrolling just to ask her out. He wasn't even subtle about it. She turned him down on almost a daily basis. At first.

As time went on, it became a cat and mouse game. Carlos kept coming back, bringing flowers, leaving notes on her windshield, waiting by her car for her to get off work. He even found out her telephone number and her address (wouldn't be much of a cop if he couldn't). He just would not quit. I believe that my sister fell for him long before she finally gave in and went out with him, but she just got a kick out of him chasing her. She acted annoyed by his pursuit, but she could have stopped him if she REALLY wanted to. When she finally did accept his invitation to dinner "just to shut him up" he told her that she would never regret that decision. Until he got shot, she never did.

When she got that distressing phone call, little Carlos was one years old and she was 8 months pregnant with Callie. When she gave birth, Carlos' death amplified her postpartum depression. All she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't clean the house. She didn't take a shower. She just slept. If it wasn't for my mother stepping in and practically living there for months, I'm not certain that Carlos and Callie would still be with her.

Carlos was like a big brother to me. I looked up to him. He had this aura of confidence about him that just drew you in. He wasn't what most people would consider tall, dark, and handsome. He had a rough look to him. But he was funny as hell and could charm the pants off of...well, my sister. There was just this way that he carried himself that made him a natural leader.

Even my parents, who were always judgmental about Trina's decisions, loved Carlos from the moment they met him. It was like he was born to be in our family. That's why his death hit us so hard. Not only were we grieving for Trina, but we also felt the loss. Of course Trina suffered the most. She had two kids , one of whom would never meet her daddy. She had to make funeral arrangements. She had nosy people who constantly wanted to talk about what a shame it was for a cop to get shot doing something so routine, all the while trying to pump her for details on what was happening with the case so that they could run back to the rumor mill with fresh information. It was a long road back for Trina.

She hit rock bottom with depression. Little by little though, I saw my sister crawl her way out of it. When she started dating Jerry, I knew the worst was behind her.

"You are one strong cookie Trina. It takes a lot to hold you down." I say as admirably. She smiles at my compliment before she gets up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom. As she passes me she lovingly rubs my head.

I can't just leave it at that sappy moment though.

"Why were you two in the living room? You know that's what bedrooms are for?"

She laughs as she stopped a few steps up. "Cal was having nightmares so she slept in my bed. There's no way to get it on with a 12 year old next to you. I figured that you would still be wallowing in your misery downstairs. Of course, being the true pain in the ass that you are, you can't even do that right. You always have to find a way to ruin my fun."

"You're welcome."

When I hear her bedroom door close, I sit in the silence thinking about my own life. What would life look like if I had to continue without Naomi?

Fucking lonely indeed.

********************

THE PAST January 2007 - March 2010

I would love to say that married life was all that I dreamed it would be, but it really wasn't. We all tend to romanticize what life would be like with our spouse. You know, sex in all parts of the house, intimate nights together, finishing each other's sentences, and whatever other cliché you can think of.

But those of us who are or have been married know the real deal. Those clichés of marriage last for about the first six months to a year. We all know what the term "honeymoon phase" is. Then the warm and fuzzies of love start to wear off and you realize the other realities of life.

Nothing brings this home more vividly than watching your wife take a shit with you in the bathroom. Her foul stink fills the air as you gasp for breath. She, on the other hand, insists on having a deep emotional conversation with you while she is dropping the deuces. When you reach that level, you know the honeymoon phase has passed.

And that's before you put a bun in the oven. Once you fully consummate your wedded bliss with an infant, you are in it for the long haul.

Henry was born in April 2009, just over two years after Naomi and I said I do. He was the most perfect baby that was ever made. Really! I'm not biased when I say that. He really was the best looking baby in the entire world. I saw him in the nursery when Naomi was knocked out after 10 hours of heavy labor. Let me tell you, anyone who says that all babies are beautiful needs to be slapped in the mouth for lying. I looked at a lot of those screwed face crying machines and I knew that they were going to be the target for bullies in the coming years.

When we took Henry home with us, we were scared shitless. Here we had this perfect, precious life that we were responsible for. His future was going to be a direct reflection of us.

Naomi selflessly gave her resignation to her job to become a full time mom. By that time I made enough at my job to support us. Sure we had some major adjustments to make as far as our spending, but all of our bills were covered from my check alone and we still had sufficient money for the other stuff.

Naomi's pregnancy was a very difficult one. She came down with Gestational Diabetes during, so she gained about 80 pounds. She was always lethargic and would run out of breath easily. Just moving from the bedroom to the living room was enough to wear her out. By the time Henry was ready to come, she was begging him to get the fuck out of her.

After he was born, I assumed the weight would go away. It didn't. Her sexy figure seemed to be a thing of the past. She did not take that too well.

My sister and mother tried to make me understand what a hard time she was having, but you are better off teaching music to a monkey. What did I know about post-partum? The only thing that I got out of those discussions was that I needed to be patient with her. They told me that the best thing that I could do was to try to reassure her and tell her that I still found her sexy and enticing. I tried to do that.

The problem was that I didn't find her sexy and enticing. Sounds cruel but true. It wasn't about the extra weight that she put on. It was that her attitude changed with the weight. She was no longer the confident, sassy woman who I met. She was often moody, depressed, and irritable. A lot of time it was no fun being around her.

Life with her wasn't really unpleasant. It was just boring. There was no spark. I still loved her with all of my being, but being away from her was often easier than being with her.

That Christmas, I made the gesture that actually was the first raindrop of the coming storm. I knew that she was having an issue with her weight. I knew that it caused her endless amounts of stress and depression. So, being the loving husband that I am, I bought her a treadmill.

Not sure you know much about women, but apparently I didn't know dick. This gift caused her to run out of the room crying and have my mother and sister stare at me open mouthed like I just set Henry on fire.

"Tell me you aren't really this dumb, Josh?" My sister asked me as my mother left to go console my wife. My dad just sat there with a bewildered look on his face that said he was just as confused as I was.

"I thought it was a good gift." He mumbled as he and Jerry shared a shrug.

"God! Now I know I'm adopted. There's no way I share any genes with you two." She huffed exasperatedly as she stomped off into the direction my mother and Naomi went.

My gift, as thoughtful as I thought it was, reaffirmed my wife's belief that she was unattractive. To her, I was letting her know that I agreed with her by giving her a means to GET ATTRACTIVE. Women. Go figure.

The chaos died down and things returned to normal, but that put a bug in Naomi's ear. Next thing I knew, she'd ordered DVD's teaching you how to get in shape, started watching the cooking network to learn how to prepare healthy foods, and joined Jerry's gym with him taking her on as a client.

I guess I haven't really mentioned Jerry much at this point, except to say that he was Carlos' replacement. Well, that's not fair to either of them. There really is no replacing Carlos. But Jerry was the man that made my sister smile after a long time of pain. He was golden with us.

He was a part time personal trainer at the gym that Trina goes to. He'd met her when she was still married to Carlos. He hit on her, as did a lot of the other guys, but she made it clear that she was in love with her husband, who was a cop. For some reason, guys back off instantly when they hear that part. Smart guys do, anyway. Probably scared of the gun.

Well, after Carlos' death, when she tried to move forward with her life, she began to work out with vigor. It helped her forget. She was having trouble sleeping with Carlos' spot empty, so she worked her body to exhaustion until she could no longer stay awake.

Jerry stayed clear for a while, as he knew what had happened to her husband. After a while the two of them began talking. Being that he was shut down previously and considering her recent loss, this time he didn't hit on her. He just talked with her. I don't know what he said to turn the tide in his favor, but I know that one day she surprised him by asking him to come over her house when the kids were being babysat by my mom. He came there expecting to go out on a date, but she dragged him inside and practically raped him. Repeatedly.

So they started off as friends with benefits. In Trina's mind, they stayed that way, though I think that she's seriously deluding herself. He spends time with the kids a few times a week, he comes to all of our family functions, neither of them are seeing anyone else, and my parents are fond of him. I actually think that my mother secretly lusts after him, as I see her silently appraising him every time he lifts something heavy. But that is just conjecture on my part.

The only thing that even hints of friends with benefits is the fact that she refuses to move in with him or allow him to move in with her. By the time my son Henry was born, they'd been - whatever they are - for about 3 years. Callie was 5 and little Carlos was 7. Little Carlos vaguely remembered his daddy (he was only 1 so his memories are mostly stories that he heard about his daddy), and Callie never knew him. Jerry was all they knew. Hell, they called him "uncle Jerry".

It was at this time that he brought up the subject of moving in together. She flat out said no. She said that she was not remotely ready to move another man into Carlos' home, nor was she entertaining the idea of leaving it behind. She said he could either deal with it or stop calling. So he backed off.