"Fourth Down," part two (MmF, wimp husband)
by c.w. cobblestone

Okay, so now everything was out in the open. Now what?

Well, it didn't take long to find out. Now that Alicia had clued me
in about her affair with Marcus, the whole dynamics of our marriage
changed. When it finally dawned on her that I was too pussywhipped
to object to her extramarital activities, something snapped in her.

The power started to go to her head. She now owned me, body and soul
- and we both knew it.

I can't say I was happy about the way things turned out, but I knew
there was no turning back now. Now that Alicia had tasted the thrill
of victory, there was no way she was going to go back to the old way
of doing things. She always did wear the pants in this marriage, but
now it was a whole new ballgame!

As I said, everything changed. She began talking "down" to me all
the time. I felt like she had absolutely no respect for me
whatsoever anymore.

I guess I can't blame her. If I were in her shoes...

I still held out hope that I might spend a little time with my wife
during her vacation. But it didn't work out that way; she spent
every night with Marcus.

Thursday night, it was the same thing all over again. I found myself
once again sitting in an empty house, watching television and trying
not to think about my wife and the football player.

Around midnight, I heard the key in the door. She was home! I sighed
with relief; maybe I would finally get to spend a few minutes alone
with my wife tonight.

All those ideas went out the window as soon as I spotted the huge
black man following her into the house.

Marcus! 

How dare she? It wasn't bad enough that Alicia had been screwing
this guy for months, right under my nose - now she had the nerve to
actually bring him into our home!

I was caught totally by surprise. As they walked toward me,
hand-in-hand, I just sat there with a stupid look on my face.

My smiling wife gestured to me. "Marcus, I'd like you to meet my
hubby," she said. "Peter, say hello to Marcus Jackson."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, and every ounce of pride went
down with it. "H-hello, Mr. Jackson," I stammered. "P-pleased to
meet you. I-I'm a big fan."

I couldn't believe I was being so polite to the man who was balling
my wife! 

Marcus didn't say anything to me; he just shook his head and looked
over at Alicia. "I guess you weren't bullshitting, were you,
'Lisha?" he chuckled. "He really doesn't mind about us, does he?"

"Oh, Peter's a wimp," Alicia said dismissively. "I don't give a shit
whether he minds or not; I do whatever I want around here!"

Marcus looked at Alicia, impressed. "Well, baby, I can see that!
You've got that son-of-a-bitch trained like a circus seal!"

"Oh, sure. I could make him do tricks if you want me to!" my wife
said, laughing.

"Naw, I ain't into all that shit," Marcus replied, waving his hand
at me. He regarded me suspiciously for a moment. "Hey, wait a
minute," he suddenly said. "This guy ain't one of those freaks who
likes to watch other people fuck his wife, is he?"

"Oh, he's a freak, all right," Alicia bantered back. "But I don't
think he likes the fact that we're doing the wild thing." She looked
at me and pouted, tracing an imaginary tear down her cheek with her
fingernail. "He says it makes him saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad," she sang.
"Does it make you sad, Peter?"

I tried my best not to cry, but my eyes were starting to get wet.
"Yes, it makes me very sad," I whispered. My voice was so cracked, I
doubt if they could even hear me. But they got the message.

They both stared at me for a minute, waiting to see if I would cry.
I held out for as long as I could, but finally I broke down. And
that was exactly what Alicia was waiting for.

"Look at him," she said to Marcus. "Have you ever seen anything so
pathetic?"

She reached down and slapped me hard across the face three times -
once for each syllable - as she repeated the word: "Pa-the-tic!"

SLLLAPPP! My head snapped back as my wife gave me another hard slap
across the chops for good measure. I fell onto the floor in a heap.

I tried to get up, but I didn't have the strength. So I just laid on
the carpet bawling.

Marcus looked at Alicia, surprised. "Damn, woman, you CRUEL! You
must really get off on this shit, huh?"

Alicia narrowed her eyes. "You're goddamn right I get off on it! Do
you realize who powerful this makes me feel? I mean, look at him!
He's my slave, Marcus. I can do any fucking thing I want, and this
little wimp won't do a damn thing about it."

My wife's excitement was starting to rub off on Marcus. He thought
about the situation for a minute, and then a slow smile started to
form across his chisled face.

"Well, I gotta admit..." Marcus mused, "...to see him sitting there
on the floor like a fool... crying like a little bitch...I guess it
is kind of a turn-on."

"Well, then, what are we waitin' for?" Alicia sauntered over to
Marcus and wiggled into his lap. She draped her arm around his
enormous shoulder and looked up at me.

"Oh, Peter dear, would you be a peach and run and get us a couple
drinks?" she asked in a sugary-sweet voice. "I'll take a scotch on
the rocks. Would you like a drink, honey-bun?"

Marcus held up his hand. "Naw, I never drink before a game. How
about a glass of OJ?"

My wife snapped her fingers. "You heard the man, Peter. Run along!"

When I returned to the living room with their drinks, they were
sprawled out on the couch, making out passionately. I stood there
like a dummy, holding their drinks while they rolled around on the
sofa. I felt like a damn fool.

Suddenly, Marcus broke their embrace. He leaned forward and took his
drink, then gave Alicia hers. After he took a long swig, he wiped
his mouth and turned to my wife.

"Look, Alicia, I know this is your thing and all, but I just can't
get next to having your nosy, freaky-ass husband standing around
watching us," Marcus said. "I don't like an audience - I get enough
of that every Sunday!"

Alicia was quick to answer: "Oh, sure, no problem, honey. You want
him gone - he's gone!" She threw me an icy stare. "Goodbye, Peter.
You're gone!"

I started to acknowledge her order, but she cut me off. "I can't
hear a word you're saying, asshole! How can you be talking when
you're supposed to be gone? Get the fuck outta here! You're gone!
GO!"

As I turned to leave, I heard Marcus chuckle behind me. "Damn,
Alicia, does he do windows, too?"


THE END
