Jimmy and Mabel - Cover

Jimmy and Mabel

by Matt Moreau

Copyright© 2008 by Matt Moreau

Erotica Story: Wife feels the need to have a lover, but wants to keep her husband too.

Caution: This Erotica Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Cheating   Cuckold   Slow   .

I'm Jim Layton. My wife of seventeen years is Mabel Layton, nee Clay. We were married young and in hurry. We'd talked about waiting, but when my Ranger unit, an element of the 82nd. airborne, was called up to go to Iraq in '91; we took the plunge.

She was twenty at the time, and I was twenty-five. My very diminutive Mable is tawny-haired and some would say a bit on the plain side. She's a tad overweight too, but in her case I think it's sexy. Her best feature bar none is her dazzling personality; I have adored her since the day we met at a Cal Tech exhibition all those years ago.

I guess I would describe myself as slender, not exactly prepossessing in the face, and at five-nine and never over one-sixty-five, not especially impressive physically. But, what is, is, I guess.

As a combat engineer for the Army, with a degree from Cal Tech, Capt. James C. Layton, me; was a natural to fill the position at Harding Engineering Inc. upon my return from the war zone. Harding is a company with serious government contacts, It was a position, too, I had long hoped to get upon my discharge. I was not disappointed in my hopes and hired on as soon as I mustered out in late '92.

A few years later Mabel and I began the next campaign together: that of engineering a family. Clara, now twelve, was our first success in that regard; she was followed two years later by Johnny, now ten.

As I said, I adore my woman. She was and is sexy, she was and is fun, and she is mine, at least for now. Sex from the beginning has been virtually non-stop and varietal. Well it was until very recently.

It all seemed kinda sudden to me: the onset of headache disease on the part of my wife. More, lately it has seemed, that every time I make a move to make love to her, she's had an excuse: headaches, her period, fatigue from her long (four hour) day at the used car dealership—more about that shortly—it's always some damn thing. It's been almost a month now since the last time I was allowed to sock it to her, and when I did, and I'd had to beg, she just laid there like a lump enduring it. I knew something was wrong, but the obvious had not even entered my mind at that point. Okay, I'm a dumb fuck when it comes to her, at least I was.

I had been thinking about things all day, and I now realized, in hindsight, our troubles, mine at any rate, had begun two months ago, when Mabel laid it on me that she was going to get a job during the day while the kids were in school. I was not thrilled by the idea, but I had no good reason to deny her other than my personal preference for a wife to be a homebody.

She said she was bored. I said get a hobby. She said she was, one that paid. She ended up as a girl Friday at Landmark Auto: a used car dealership in town. The pay was okay and the work not especially taxing. For a while things seemed to be fine; except of course that her sex drive had gone from frantic to practically zero.

Today, I'd decided to make her sit down and talk it out. Something had to give, and her job was very high on the list of options. That, since I now recognized that her starting work was the beginning of the whole mess.


I had taken the half day off to talk with her. I wanted to do it before the kids were due to be picked up at 3:30. I pulled into the drive and noticed that the trash had been picked up, so I decided to take the empty can to the back, save myself having to do it later. I ducked into the garage and wiped my dirty hands on the rag hangin' by the door. The sight that greeted me was stunning.

Parked in my space in the closed garage was a vintage red Corvette. Not the kind of car often seen anywhere, but virtually never on our street. I had a bad feeling.

The door to the kitchen from the garage was ajar. I went through it. The noise emanating from the front room killed my heart. "Fuck me harder, damn it, harder! I need it. I need it now!" I heard her say. The 'her' was my wife. For some seconds, I don't know how many, I stood there in the kitchen, my mind a chaos of a dozen swirling emotions. I gathered myself.

I went into the front room. She was leaning forward with her hands on the easy chair, my chair. She was naked and her legs were splayed wide. He was behind her pile driving his cock deep inside of her. He was pretty impressive; I had to give him that. She was grunting savagely as he banged her. I stood there watching the woman, who I had never before doubted, betraying me. I knew the man, met him. He was her boss at the dealership, Dutch Miller. He was married with kids too.

Well, what they were doing explained the decline in my sex life.

Their backs were to me, and they hadn't heard me, not yet. "Mable?" I managed. God I must have sounded like the worst kind of wimp.

The man's head whipped around. To say he was startled was a total understatement, at first. But, then he just smiled. "Sorry man. I couldn't resist this nice little wifey of yours. He didn't appear worried. Well why would he have; he was at least six-six and maybe two-eighty, that he was wrong in his self-confidence notwithstanding.

I stared at him more stunned than anything else. Anger would soon replace those initial feelings. But, for the moment; I was completely at a loss.

Mabel, by now, had stood and turned to face me. She grabbed for the towel she'd evidently brought into the living room from the bathroom. She covered herself. She too got over her initial surprise quickly and offered me the same condescending smile that her lover had.

"Jimmy, you're home early. Well, it was going to happen sooner or later," she said.

"Mabel? What—what—are you doing? Is this the end of us? I know this guy. He's married. He has kids. We have kids. I don't..." I was more or less making sense, but I was not standing up for my rights, or for my family's rights. But, in my defense, I was in a state of shock. It was the worst moment of my life.

"The end of us? No, Jim, in fact it's a good thing. I love you Jim. But frankly, and I don't mean this to hurt you; you don't do it for me in bed anymore. You and I need to talk. But I promise you; I'll make this right by you. You'll just have to give me a chance to make you understand, that's all.

"Dutch, you need to go. Jimmy and I have a lot to discuss," she said.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," he said. He gathered his stuff together pulled on his pants and shirt and left by the kitchen door into the garage where he still had his car to retrieve. I heard the garage door opener engage and the sound of the powerful engine gun as he pulled out into the street and was gone.

"Pour yourself a drink, Jimmy. I'll be down in a few minutes," she said. Her giving me orders was new. She'd never talked to me like that before. I was feeling insulted—no—hurt.

She joined me in maybe five minutes. She started laying it on me as soon as she'd taken her seat. I had already downed a shot of vodka. I poured myself another one.

"Jim, to answer your earlier question again, no this doesn't have to be the end of us unless you want it to be. But, I need to tell you, I intend to keep on having my time with Dutch. If you want to stay married, I will be thrilled to agree. But, if you want a divorce; then, that'll be okay too," she said.

"Mabel this isn't right..." I started to say.

"Jim, deal with it or leave; it's that simple. If you want a divorce, I'll take the house, half of the savings, reasonable alimony and child support, and you can have your freedom. I'm sorry you had to see that today. You didn't deserve that. I should never have allowed him in the house to fuck me, my bad.

"But, in a way it's good because now I won't have to be sneaking around anymore," she said.

I looked at her. Who was this woman? I sure didn't know who it was. I sat there speechless for a long time at least it seemed like a long time. My marriage was deader than the proverbial doornail; I knew it if she didn't.

"Jim? Are you all right? I honestly do feel bad that you saw that. I didn't want to hurt you. You're good man just not what I need in some areas.

"Dutch fills that missing something that need. He's worthless every other way," she said, "you are twice the man he is other than when it comes to sex. And—and—you and I can still do it sometimes. I don't intend to cut you off completely. But—well—it won't be as often as maybe you might want I'm afraid."

"What? Why—why are you..." I said. Jesus, I was being wimpy. I just couldn't seem to get a hold of myself. I would at some point; I had to, but for the moment she was in the driver's seat, and I was getting my ass kicked.

"Jim, if you need to find a woman, you know, to take the edge off; like on the side, be my guest. I can't very well object to you doing what I'm doing can I?" she said. It was clear she was feeling proud of herself for being so magnanimous with me.

"But I love you, not somebody else. You love me—don't you?" I said.

"Of course I do, Jim. I will always love you. It's just, the sex with you—well—it's just not like it used to be, darling. Get your head around that, and you'll see; we can get by this little mistake of mine, I mean this thing today," she said. "We can deal with this. It's just a sex thing, nothing more."

We talked for some time. She actually got up and kissed me at one point. She brushed away my tears with her hand. "I promise not to flaunt it in front of you again, Jim. You deserve that much consideration at the least. Are we okay?" she said.

"I—I—I have to go get the kids." The clock on the wall read 3:15. I needed to get out of there; a bad feeling I hadn't had since the war was coming over me. "I'll take them to get pizza. I'll bring pizza home. I need to..." I didn't finish saying whatever I was going to say. I just rose and left. She was smiling benignly. My stomach was settling. A new emotion was finding its way into my mind and heart—anger.


The kids ran to me. Clara was in her last year of grade school. Johnny would have one more to go. They were the perfect age; they were for me at any rate. I couldn't lose them. The upshot of that was that I would have to put up with my new status as Mabel's cuckold, at least for now, in order not to lose them; she'd made that clear. She'd take the kids and most of our material possessions if I made any waves.

I had to think to plan. The army had taught me how to plan surprise assaults. It's how I had nailed those fucks in the desert west of the Euphrates. It would be time to plan soon; I just didn't have it in me today. All I had today was the unholy tastes of bile and betrayal.

I'd never talked much about my time in the Middle East. Not event to Mabel. And, in point of fact, she'd hardly ever mentioned it to me or questioned me. It's how I'd wanted it. Too many good men wouldn't be coming home from those wars, thanks be to the politicians who cared more about oil than human life. Talking about the war was something all of us brothers in arms just knew not to do. Mabel didn't even know about my Silver Star. She never would now, not from my mouth.

"Daddy," said Clara with sauce all over her chin. "I love you," she said.

"Me too, Dad," said Johnny.

"Daddy, why is mommy so bored all of the time? I mean with us," said Clara. "Is she having sex with that other man?"

I stopped with my ice tea halfway to my lips. "Bored? Sex?"

"Yes, dad, she doesn't come to anything at school anymore. She's too busy since she started working at the car place, daddy," said Johnny. "That guy is at our house sometimes when mom picks us up and we get home. He really tries to make us like him. But I don't like him no matter what!"

"But, he never stays long after we get there," said Clara. "They talk a little, and then he leaves. I think they have sex dad."

"Yeah, dad, and she's always late picking us up too," said Johnny.

I had been getting madder and madder inside, but now I was getting just plain mad! Her little games with buttfuck were affecting not only me, but our children. If they had figured out in their little pre-pubescent minds what was going on, it had to be pretty blatant. The only dummy who didn't seem to be in on the joke was me! Well, I was now.

"I'll talk to her about it, kids. But, I'm sure she's not bored with you. And, no, your mom and I are married. She isn't doing the bad thing with him; I'm sure of that," I said. I hazarded a weak smile. Clara looked at me funny—can't fool a kid.

I delivered half a pizza to the house and Mabel smiled her thanks. "I should've gone with you," she said. But, I could tell her words were just formula pap without substance. She'd obviously showered and she looked good. Well, she always looked good to me. That would never change.


During the next days, I went to work. I made a living. I came home, and dinner was usually ready. I had not dared to ask her about her picking up the kids late all of the time or mention their suspicions. One, I was afraid she'd become enraged and go off on me; and two, for the life of me, I was still chicken to deal with the reality that I was in fact dealing with anyway. Okay, I admit it, my tears were almost constant at night now. She'd caught me last night; it was humiliating.

"Jim? Are you crying? Jim?" she said. She had a disgusted look on her face.

"No—I—just have something in my eye. I'm fine," I said. I was so transparently lying that it wasn't even funny. She sat down, set her lips and spoke.

"Jim, for chryssakes be a man! You're acting like a wimpy little boy. For goodnessakes." She threw up her hands in mock despair. "Look, I know I hurt you. But, it's nothing for you to worry about, I mean my having sex with Dutch. He's no threat to you, not in any meaningful way. Now, please act like a man, please. All of this whining and crying has got to stop. Okay?" Her last words were delivered in an almost kindly tone, like she was soothing a child's hurt feelings. I have to admit it; I was only a few nano-syllables shy of actually killing her right then and there. She had no idea; I walked out to protect myself more than her.

It was the next morning, Saturday, I was outside working on my car. I had to do something to keep from going insane. The conversation the night before had killed all hope whatsoever of my ever forgiving her and letting her off the hook. She'd be lucky if she didn't actually end up in a whorehouse in Thailand before I was through, at least that's the way I was thinking at that moment. And, as for buttfuck, he was going to get special treatment: maybe a sex change. My mind was rambling, I knew, and filling with outlandish images of revenge.

Cheating on me was one thing, but they were going far beyond the pale in the doing of it. Her using the kids to blackmail me was the only thing keeping her in the saddle. I had to unhorse the bitch, and that sooner rather than later.

Done messin' with the radiator hose, I decided to head out toward town; I needed some stuff. I was able to find what I needed in no time. I was an engineer after all. Walt Reiser had been with me in the 82nd. He owned an electronics shop in town.

"Shit man, bummer. I can't believe she'd do that to you. Anyway, this stuff should get you some of what you need. "Jim," he said, and he paused, "you know, you, we got friends. Friends who don't make mistakes and handle bullshit like this, just say the word. You'll have full deniability."

"No, Walt, I ain't goin' that route. I thought about it. But, no," I said.

"You still sleeping with her?" he said.

"Yeah, so far. I haven't had the balls to move out, I mean even out of the room. I'm doing my best not to make waves. But, there's no sex. Not even much kissing. Every once in a while she gives me a peck on the cheek if I do something she thinks is good. It makes my skin crawl. But, I don't want her to end up with anything, so I put up with it, for now. And, she certainly must not ever end up with the children, not that, not ever that." I said. Walt nodded.

"What about him?" he said.

"Buttfuck? I haven't figured out what I can do to him yet, but he is definitely never far from my mind," I said.

"How about telling his wife?" said Walt. "You say he's married with kids too."

"Yeah, that would probably handle him, at least partly, but I would still lose in having to battle Mabel. I want them both to go down—hard," I said.

I got home about two hours later. The stuff I bought was still in the car. She had to be gone for me to install it. A piece of cake, maybe an hour's work. I wasn't sure what good any of it would do, though. Adultery was reprehensible, but not legally reprehensible. The lawyers and their law making had seen to that. It was almost like they wanted to protect the guilty. Lawyers and politicians had to be the most contemptible cadre of human beings there was.

I knew could prove the hell out of it, the adultery that is, but it probably wouldn't mean shit in the final analysis. I had to hope that my sweet little whore of a wife would slip up big time—somehow.

I came into the service porch and headed for the frig in the kitchen and pulled me out a beer. I needed something a lot stronger, but for the time being I wasn't going to be doin' too much drinkin'; I needed my wits about me to make war. It was the 82nd against a whore and her pimply-assed high school buttfuck; I almost smiled at the thought. The 82nd were the most highly trained warriors in the world. Hell, how could I lose. And if it got physical? Buttfuck was in for a major surprise. Yeah, how could I lose? Okay, my heart was already in the tank, but whatever was left was going to be real hard for the two of them to deal with.

As I was taking my first sip she came in. "Oh, I didn't hear you come in," she said. I didn't say anything. I just shrugged. "Jim, we aren't going to have another scene like last night are we?" she said, not unkindly.

I shrugged again. "I guess not," I said. "I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Jim! Shake it off. Okay. You're supposed to be some kind of soldier or something aren't you? What about all of those guys that got killed and stuff. I bet they weren't as wimpy as you're acting when they were dyin'," she said. Now, she had gone too far.

She saw the steel in my eyes as I set my beer down; she noticeably quailed. I didn't realize it, but I had taken a step toward her, a menacing step. Eleven stinkies had met Allah and had gotten their shot at the promised seventy-two virgins; and that, at my very singular hands in that desert that day. My squad had gotten the two nurses back, and damned near been court marshaled for the doing of it against orders. But, general Gilchrist had gotten involved, and me and my four brothers had gotten Silver Stars instead.

"Mabel, no matter what you ever do to me, now or in the future; never, never, never again mention my brothers. If you do, you won't..." I was talking so low and slow that she realized that she had overreached herself.

"Okay, okay, sheesh, touchy," she said, interrupting me. I was glad she did. I was about to tell her that I would kill her. That would not have been good. I could tell she got the message though. She actually shivered.

"I have to go," she said. "Sheila and I are going shopping. I'll be home kind a late. You got the kids." I nodded.

This was my chance. The house would be totally wired and the phones too before she she'd been gone an hour. I wondered how big a cock Sheila had.


Mabel and Sheila must have found some unusual stores. Mabel didn't get in till four in the morning. I smiled in the dark. She slid in beside me kinda slow and easy trying not to wake me. I wasn't asleep, not at all. I was at war.

I took the kids to the park the next day. We played basketball. The kids won, but they cheated. Anyway, it was a fun day. Afterwards we went to the fiesta the church was having and ate a lot of hot dogs and drank a lot of cokes and spent a lot of money trying to pitch dimes into a dish. I have never understood the mechanism behind that particular game. The damn dimes never would stay on the damn dish; they'd always bounce and skid off, well whatever.

When we got back, Mabel wasn't home yet; it was 5:00. The kids went up to play video games and take naps; they were bushed. So was I, if it came to that. I went out to the garage and checked the phone tap. There were three calls. One to her sister, one from some guy named Eric confirming some kind of meet up with him and his brother, and one from guess who: why buttfuck of course. Who the hell was Eric? Well, I'd be finding that out sooner or later. The one from buttfuck was the most interesting at least to me.

"Hello," said Mabel.

"Hi, it's me. Can you talk?" he said.

"Yeah my wimpy husband is with the kids at the park. Jesus that man is such a baby," said my wife. "He made me feel so bad last night."

"What's going on?" he said.

"Last night he was crying. Can you believe it! I know he loves me. I know he's about as pussywhipped as they come. But, crying like that. He actually made me feel bad for him. Jesus, how many times have I told him he isn't going to lose me! Dutch, I know I promised you that my pussy was for you and you alone, but I'm going to have to let him have me once in a while. He just can't handle it the way it is," she said. "It's not fair to him. We screwed up, and I have to try and make it right by him."

"Jesus! What kind of wimpy little shit did you marry for chryssakes!" said buttfuck.

"Dutch, he's a good guy. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. I have to bring him along slowly, so he doesn't get all crazy on us. You want to stay with Helen, so she doesn't rape you in a divorce; I have to stay with Jimmy, at least for now because of your situation. I have to deal with his insecurities at my end, Dutch. I'm gonna have to let him have a mercy fuck every now and again. It just has to be.

"You know, I told him to go out and find himself a woman, but he's too damn proud and moral for that. You and I are going to have to cool it for a few days too while I build his confidence back up. Okay?" she said. "I just can't have him bawling all of the time. Jesus, how I wish now that he hadn't walked in on us that day!"

"Okay, do what you think is best.

"By the by, did Eric call you?"

"Yes, the games are on. A week from Saturday; I thank you for that. It oughta be a blast," she said.

They talked about me and their plans for me for the next five minutes or so, said their goodbyes, and hung up.

Interesting, I thought. I get to have a mercy fuck. Like I would even want to touch the foul flesh of that cunt; I'd rather fuck a striped assed ape than her, I thought. But, it was going to be interesting seeing her try to get me to.

She got home by 6:30. I was surprised. But then, she had told buttfuck that they'd be cooling it for a few days. She was very nice to me.

"Hi, honey, Got something for you, but you can't have it until later." She said giggling.

"Huh? Really?" I said. I was actually wondering what it was. Johnny and Clara came in to see what their mom had gotten at the store. She produced presents for both of them. A video game for Johnny and a kid's watch for Clara. Clara had lost her watch a few days before, so this was a welcome surprise for her.

The kids jumped for joy. It was the first time in a week she'd shown them any real interest. I guess they were hoping.

Dinner was noisy; it was almost like old times. For everyone but me that is.

The kids in bed, Mabel all of a sudden was all giggly and smiley again. Of course I knew what it was, what it was a prelude to. But, I played along.

"Hey, big guy," she said to me finally. She took a seat across from me at the table. "I talked to Dutch today."

My head swiveled. She'd surprised me.

"Yes, I told him he and I had to cool it for a while. I told him you deserved better than you'd been getting," she said. She waited for my reaction. I was so surprised I didn't have one ready.

"Anyway, I see you're kinda surprised. Well, do me a favor and come on up to our room in a few minutes, okay? I want to give you your surprise."

I looked askance at her. I pretty well knew it had something to do with my supposedly getting lucky, but not exactly what. I nodded. "Okay," I said, feigning ignorance of what was up.

I puttered around for five minutes or so and headed upstairs. I made enough noise so as to give her a heads up that I was coming. What greeted me upon entering the room was an ambush. Candles and I could smell my favorite perfume; the latter had always enslaved me before. But her biggest gun was the lingerie she was wearing. Her nakedness and her bald mound were clearly visible under it. I stood there pretty much transfixed.

"Cat got your tongue, big guy," she said. She was sure she had me. I was about to disappoint her big time.

I looked her up and down. Looked her in the eyes. Turned and walked out. I hadn't spoken a word. I was almost to the bottom of the stairs when she caught up with me.

"Jim, what's the matter. I wanted to make it up to you. I mean the way I've treated you lately. Come on back up and let me prove to you that I love you," she said.

"I'm not your 'big guy' anymore, Mabel. I guess I'm a wimp as you've called me more than once lately. And, I ain't settlin' for no mercy fuck; I still got a little pride left that you haven't yet trampled in the dirt.

"But tell you what. You get on the phone right now, and tell buttfuck that you're through with him and his forever, and that you're quitting your job at that cheapass dealership, and I will call it all square, and we can try and start over. How's that?" I said. I knew she wouldn't do it of course; I'd heard what she'd said on the phone.

"Jim, this is a bona fide offer. It's no mercy fuck. I want you. I know what I've said. I don't know what I was thinking. I was wrong. Come on back up. You won't regret it," she begged.

"Make the call," I dared her.

"Okay, Jim, if that the way you want it. Forget it," she said. "I wanted to make things right with you. But, you don't seem to be able to deal with what is. It's only sex with Dutch, but you may be forcing me to make it into something more."

"Now, that's the wife I've come to know and understand lately," I said. "Don't worry. You've got me by the balls, Mabel. I won't rock the boat. But, I ain't makin' love to someone who doesn't love me, and that's all there is to it." She stomped out and upstairs; she was clearly not happy that she couldn't entice me.


It was Wednesday morning. I'd worked hard the previous day, I'd had to get my hands real dirty on the job. That, along with the kids at night, and well, I was pretty well thrashed. So maybe it's not too surprising that I awoke startled to see and feel my wife was sucking my cock!

"What the!" I said wiping sleep out my eyes as I sat up forcing my cock to slip from her mouth. "Whaddya you doin'" I said.

"Helping you out, Jim, and you still are my big guy, no matter what you think," she insisted.

"No, Mabel, not while you still have anything to do with buttfuck," I said. "Period."

"Okay, Jim, if that's the way you want it. I tried," she said. She actually seemed genuinely disappointed. "And, I wish you'd quit calling him names. He's a good guy. He feels as bad as I do about you catching us that day. He really likes you, you know. He told me that he hopes you and he can be friends at some point in the future."

"Get this Mabel. He will always be buttfuck to me—period. He and I will always be mortal enemies no matter what happens to us. You tell him that.

"I'll be your legal husband, Mabel, because like I say you've got me by the balls on account of the kids. But, I will not be your lover. I will not lower myself to begging you for a mercy fuck. None of that is happening.

"You want me to go to the store and buy bread, I'll go. You need an escort to the ball so you can fuck your sex toy; I'm there for you. But, don't expect me to like it or love you. Okay? Whatever love I once held for you, Mabel, and it was a lot if you care to know, is dead now," I said.

For the first time since the blowup, I think I saw tears forming behind the façade that she'd been showing to me.

During the next few days, it was cool around the house. The enthusiasm that the kids had had just days before had wilted as their mother returned to form. It was Friday evening. I got a special request from Mabel.

"Jim, I need you to take the kids to the zoo tomorrow; they've been asking. I'm having a meeting here at the house that can't be interrupted. Am I understood," she said.

I snickered. I remembered her promise not to flaunt it in my face. Well, what the hell was this! "Why don't you just tell me you need your privacy to screw buttfuck," I said. You're not kidding anybody."

"Actually, I'm not," she said. "Then it came to me. I remembered the conversation with the Eric guy. It was him and his brother that she was going to fuck. I was sick to my stomach. Something had to break pretty soon or I would.

"Fine," I said. "Whatever." I was actually happy, I was going to get it all recorded. Maybe this was the break I was hoping for. She was overconfident. A bad thing when you were screwing somebody over, somebody like me.

 
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