Chapter 1

“Say that again?” I asked, to make sure that I heard her right.

Deanna Maxwell was one of those ladies that one gave close attention, with her tall, slender, statuesque body, striking blue-grey eyes, and luscious, wavy nut brown hair. Even so, there was still a chance that I might have slipped into a daydream on a lazy Saturday afternoon like this, one where I had a RC Cola in one hand and a hoagie in the other. We were in the town’s only barbershop, and Deanna was there with her then boyfriend, Robbie Walters, one of the town’s three barbers. He was very late with their afternoon date by now, as she had come to pick him up already. That didn’t make her comment any more likely in my book, but stranger things have happened.

“I said, marry me, funny man!” Deanna laughed as she proposed again to me, seemingly in jest.

“Sure, I got nothing better to do with my weekend, but won’t your boyfriend here object?” I teased her back, thinking that she was being facetious at the moment.

“Hey, it’s not a love match, but he can like it or lump it. At this point, I don’t give a fuck. But you think that I’m kidding, don’t you? No, I’m very much in earnest. Marry me, take me home with you, and fuck me into next year, and, yes, I hope that Robbie heard me say that!” Deanna rose, gathered her purse, and offered me her hand.

“That’s shutting the door rather hard on your plans and his for the future, I should think,” I observed, standing slowly, but unsure about actually accepting her proposition.

“Go ahead, marry my girlfriend, Sam. Why not? A high maintenance girlfriend like her? Maybe I’m better off as the boyfriend, sharing her with her husband, not having to keep her in the lap of luxury,” Robbie chuckled, for whatever reason not worried, “she’ll be back in my bed before you know it and you’ll just be her dumbass cuck, raising my brats.”

“See, Sam? He doesn’t even care enough to fight for me. But don’t worry ... you’ll be getting plenty of action in the future, and more respect than he ever will,” Deanna scoffed now, in the presence of everyone else.

“It’s not your respect that I want, Dee. Just that wonderful honeypot between your sweet, long legs. We’ve been dating for a good while, ever since high school. You just now figured out what a prick I am? I’m a good ol’ boy. Sure, I’ll marry you, given the chance, but if you marry him, I’ll be ready to pounce on your fine, married ass and plant the flag in you, anyway. Mark my territory. Either way, I win, the way I see it. Admit it, babe. You’ll be crawling back for more of my lovin’ inside a week,” Robbie upped the ante, daring Deanna to defy or contradict him, which she pointedly didn’t.

“Hey, now ... I’m not into the wimp hubby, hot wife scene, so if that’s what you have in mind, Deanna, well, I don’t much care for horns and have no plans to wear them. I didn’t think that you were serious, and while I would love to bed you, I’m not a one-woman man, either. Certainly not if my wife is stepping out on me. That being said, if you weren’t talking out of your sweet ass, and you actually had a serious marriage proposal that would make sense to me, that’s a different matter.

“Even if we just end up in divorce court in ten or twenty years’ time and it’s not a love match, as you say, it’s a worthwhile possibility. I just didn’t expect to say such things in public. Just remember that turnabout is fair play, sauce for the goose is good for the gander, you get the idea. You’re still very much in love with Robbie, childish as he is, and it would have to be one hell of a sweetheart deal to make me marry another man’s girlfriend, even one as sexy as you,” I finally treated Deanna’s suggestion with the seriousness that it might actually deserve, albeit in front of her beau.

“Sam, honey, it’s not gonna be like that. I don’t want to hash out this deal in front of Robbie and other prying eyes and ears, so how about we go on the date that he stood me up for, if that’s okay with you? You up to a date with your old friend, Sam, your former classmate, who just happens to be the barber’s girlfriend? Don’t worry. I can give you a haircut later, dear,” Deanna invited me with a wink, knowing from the beet-red look on Robbie’s face that he really was jealous now.

Now, bear in mind that Deanna and I had known each other for years by then, pretty much our entire lives, in fact. We had joked, flirted, played a bit, she had threatened me with serious bodily harm one time for a skit where I borrowed her favorite dress if I tore or ripped it in any way, that sort of thing. She had said some strange things at times, making me wonder about her sanity, such as when she sang a very bawdy chorus to me, a very platonic friend of hers, about “laying me in your bed” or some such stuff.

Still, we were just friends and that was all that we had ever really been. We had gone to church camp together. Our parents were friends and attended the same church events, socials, revival meetings, etc. You get the idea. We had played volleyball, catch, softball, etc. with each other, too, especially before she grow into serious womanhood after puberty. She also fiercely defended me against an accusation of cheating on a test once, even making the point that a keen and sharp mind like mine didn’t need to cheat. That was very flattering, to put it mildly, to know that she thought that highly of me.

“This had better be worth getting banned from Melvin’s Barbershop for life, you know,” I replied as I took her hand and left the barbershop, hoagie half-finished and RC now in the trashcan.

“Here, I’ll help you finish that off, so we’re not starving as we wait for our food,” Deanna grinned at me, “come on, we’ll take your truck if you don’t mind. Robbie would murder me if I left him stranded there.”

“Remind me why we’re doing this?” I asked her as we shared the hoagie and departed for her ... our date, with me quite unsure if I really wanted to go with Deanna, but also mildly curious as to what sort of deal she had in mind.

“Because you’re about to make me an honest woman at last, and, well, I’m going to rock your world in bed. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? This, honey, is going to be the biggest, baddest adventure of our lives! You, me, one hell of a marriage while it lasts, you get the idea. It’s gonna be awesome! Sex, fattening, home-cooked meals, the prettiest girl in town on your arm, your bun in my oven, what’s not to love? I’ll take such fucking good care of you that you won’t know what to do with yourself,” Deanna certainly knew how to pull out the big guns with me.

“Um, there is the ever so slight complication of you still having a boyfriend, you know, plus since when do I strike you as the faithful sort, let alone the cucky type? Do you really know me that little, Dee?” I reminded her, more than a little bothered by those ideas as we sat down to eat in what turned out to be a Sloane’s (a local chain of family-style restaurants), making me brace for the likely impact on my wallet.

“Sam, is that really what you’re worried about, babe? Since we’re playing that game, since when do I strike you as the sort of bitch who’d treat you with that kind of disrespect? Hey, this is me, okay? I like you! I want to marry you! I want to be Mrs. Sam Hill, strange as that sounds, given the infernal undertones. You might be the Devil, in fact, but I highly doubt it, having grown up with you. Your parents just had a rather striking blindness to the implications of certain names, I guess. Right now, in fact, I like you a lot more than I like Robbie, I can tell you that!” Deanna made more of her sales pitch as we went to the salad bar for the soups and salads.

“My God, you really want to do this! You’re quite serious!” I exclaimed, shaken by the certain knowledge now that Deanna actually had designs on more than my wallet ... she wanted to sleep with me, and often, for the foreseeable future, if her previous words could be believed!

“Well, is sex with me such an unpleasant thought, really? I promise you, I know what I’m doing. I’m no virgin, even though Daddy is a deacon and Mom’s a Sunday School teacher. Granted, I’ve never cheated on Robbie and he’s the only one who’s banged me, too, so you get experience without every STD known to man, unlike what that Darley might have given you without that rubber you wore. Yes, I heard about that. Smart move, wearing the condom, that was. Not so smart to eat her out and lick her ass, but, hey, I bet that it was hard to refuse that booty. At least she sucked your cock, from what I’ve been told,” Deanna proved that she knew all about my legendary three day fling with Darley Marcus (legendary because Darley kissed and told, of course).

“But now you’re going to stick him with the prospect of either a ‘v’ or losing you altogether. That’s a strange twist for a traditional girlfriend, if you ask me. I just never took you for the poly type. Me, yes, I’m poly, which is a huge part of why this might not work. Is sex with you an unpleasant thought? Hell, no! I imagine that you’re terrific in bed, from what I could tell. You just never seemed the kind of girl that marries one man while openly dating another ... or secretly, for that matter.

“As for Darley, well, I knew what I was getting from day one. She’s not poly. She’s just a good, old-fashioned whore, and I mean that literally. I paid her for the sex. She kept her word, except for talking about it, though she oddly never mentioned that I paid for it. Maybe she just didn’t want the law on her ass, but in that case, why tell?” I commented while eating my New England clam chowder and Caesar salad.

“Well, well, someone doesn’t know what Darley told us, which is that she never ... cashed that check. She ripped it up and you’ll never get it withdrawn from your account. In fact, she told me that she’s done with whoring now. She’s decided to go into something else. At least she wasn’t so far gone that she is trapped in prostitution. She must have been relatively new to it.

“She told me that you were the last straw. She knew that you enjoyed it and she could have possibly gotten more out of you if she wasn’t a hooker. More sex, that is, and bareback. Something about having to wear a rubber with you was enough to make her hang up her red light, red dress, and fishnet stockings, that sort of thing,” Deanna explained to me, much to my shock.

“I enjoyed it because it was a hot hate fuck. She bullied me like crazy in high school and I wanted payback. I guess that backfired, didn’t it? I used her as I wanted, enjoyed her every which way but anal, and that I would have done if I had the spare cash that weekend, I can tell you that much,” I confessed, both blushing and grinning ... I was far from a prude, but it wasn’t every day that I admitted to being a john.

“Yeah, I recall what a heinous bitch she was to you back then. Whereas I was very good to you and I’m still in the friend zone, aren’t I? Well, think of this as friendship with benefits, but with some of the benefits being legal as well as sexual ones. You get a booty call for however long this lasts and so do I. You’ll never have to wonder where your next lay comes from if you’re not in the mood for the chase, and I know that not every man is all that caught up in it 24/7, despite common myths to the contrary.

“When you do go out to get some strange, you can be more confident, not wondering if you’ll go home to blue balls if you don’t win fair lady. You either get some ass from her ... or you get some from me, and, hey, I’m not bad for a consolation prize, am I? Don’t worry, dear. I don’t know if we’re just marking time until Robbie grows up, or what, and, yes, that’s the main downside to this. But even if that happens, worst-case scenario, you get some serious booty with me for quite a few years and can grin every time you see us together, knowing that you tapped this daily,” Deanna’s eyes danced with mischief right then.

“Okay, what’s in it for you, then? Or for Robbie, for that matter?” I queried now, clearly haggling with her by now.

“For one thing, revenge on Robbie and really making him sweat. Think of it. He might play it cool for now, but watching me with a wedding band, doesn’t have to be pricey, by the way, though if we last and we have a diamond anniversary or something, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. But, anyway, watching me with your ring on this finger? Having to call me ‘Mrs. Hill,’ instead of me being ‘Mrs. Walters?’ Knowing that at least part of me will always be yours, that you will be my first husband, and even if we divorce, you’ll be my ex and we’ll have memories that he never got to share. Knowing that I cook for you, but not him. Watching me swell up with YOUR baby! That’s just part of it.

“Another part is the idea that any point, I can refuse him and have grounds for doing so that anyone in my family can applaud and accept. If he doesn’t do something that I like, I can tell him, ‘sorry, man, but I’m a married woman,’ and even if I wasn’t faithful before, there is nothing that he can do about it, other than maybe rape me, and that would land his sorry ass in the slammer. And my whole family would be eager to lynch him for it, too. He’d be the first white man ever lynched in the history of this town! Even my cousin John would show up to do it, and he’s no fan of mine.

“Also, imagine the wedding, the look on Robbie’s face, as I would want to invite him to it, the sheer worry as he sees that I’m not bluffing here, that he’s made me wait for a date one time too many when those haircuts could wait another day. Melvin was there, he could have done at least some of those haircuts himself. He wasn’t pressuring Robbie to stay and cut that hair. No, Robbie is the class clown that never grew up, the bon vivant, the good ol’ boy who just had to chew the flab and keep gabbing and joking a little longer, while making his fucking girlfriend wait for him well past the time!

“Think of it, Sam! I’m not the only woman that Robbie has fucked, trust me. He’s cheated on me a dozen times, and probably would again. I already know that. I’m honest enough to admit it. He likes to party, he likes to drink, and he likes to fuck skanks at bars when he gets drunk, or sneak around and slip some dick to the mothers of his clients at times for quickies when he goes on his ‘smoke breaks.’ Smoke breaks my ass! He quit smoking some time ago and only smokes now after sex!

“Why do you think that I show up on Saturdays for dates? Not just for his company, though I admit to enjoying that, as I’m still in love with him. It’s partly to cock block him with some of those MILFs, at least long enough to store some good spunk in his balls for me later. I got tired of him making me wait until close to midnight before he was up to sex, and then only if he wasn’t too hammered by his evening beers. He’s still good in bed, I won’t lie about that much. He’s good enough to make me forget about his sorry ways for a good while. It’s part of why I moved in with him.

“Now, however, I’ll have to move out. How long do you think until he starts missing it? No more home-cooked meals and that will really hit him where it hurts. No more sandwiches made for him for the next day’s lunch. He’ll have to go back to takeout, which costs a bit more, to put it mildly. He’ll have to pay all of the bills. He’ll have to go back to seeking pussy and if he’s lucky, maybe I’ll deign to bed him. I won’t lie to you about that. I’m still in love with the fool. He might be a fool, but he’s MY fool. But there won’t be pussy on tap, just there to be claimed anymore. He’ll have to take what I give him, WHEN I give it to him, and then only if I’m in the mood for it.

“So, yeah, I’ll have two men to bed, so that’s something for me. If you agree to this, and yes, I’ll want it regularly from you, to more than make up for the times that I’ll cut him off. If anyone is going to suffer here, it won’t be you or me. It will be Robbie. I love the guy, but it’s time for some tough love. Very tough love. Basically, I’m trying to drive him crazy, make him want me badly enough that he’ll try to steal me away from you. Yes, I’ll be using you to make him jealous, but again, it’s still a sweet deal for you in the meantime. Lots of cooking, sex, my extra income to help stretch your budget. Maybe even a pride and joy here or there.

“Thing is, there’s no set or certain outcome here. It’s very open-ended. I refuse to lie to you about this or sugar coat it. We could be married for two years or ten ... or twenty. Long enough to make him come crawling back to me. I’ve been the doormat for him long enough. I know my worth. I know that he wants me. He’s a fool not to lock me in by now, given how often I’ve put out for him, never used sex as a weapon in the past, yes, this is a first for me, looked the other way when he clearly cheated on me.

“Why? Because I love him. We had an implied deal. I was going to be the perfect girlfriend for him, eventually the model wife, and mother to his kids. I was going to make his breakfast, lunch, supper, etc. I was going to make love to him, pour him his beer, listen to his tall tales and fishing stories, laugh at him and his warped sense of humor, enjoy his company, have his children, grow old with him, all that jazz. Because I love him ... for who he is. Drunken, cheating goofball and everything. Overgrown fuckboy! I was even going to give him my virgin ass!

“Now, that’s all being taken away, by me, of my own free will, to punish him for mistreating me and taking me for granted. It’s being wrenched away from him and handed to you instead. Including the looking the other way bit, provided that you do so for me to make love to Robbie. It’s just whenever he and I ... need it, and yes, it’s necessary, if there is to be any chance of him becoming husband number two. Do that for me and I won’t hesitate to suck your cock, even straight from Darley Marcus’s whore ass! Yes, I give head and I’m not afraid to admit it, deacon’s daughter though I am!

“I know, I know, this sounds crazy, but I think that you’ll get the better deal here, at least until I finally make Robbie mine for good. Sure, there will have to be a divorce down the line, but I’ll make it as painless as I can. I’ll even sign a pre-nup, since I know that you have, well more money than Robbie and I do ... combined. I’m no fool. I’m well aware that you’re the closest thing that this town has to landed gentry, to a gentleman farmer and such. You own some serious land and we both know it. That’s fine.

“I also know that it doesn’t always give you as much liquid cash on hand as one might think, but you’re far from broke. Bet you Darley Marcus is wishing that she didn’t bully you now that you inherited that land from your Uncle Joe. But if she really wants you badly enough, she can always be wife number two if you like. She just has to hang on for a while and wait her turn,” Deanna finally stopped to finish her chicken noodle soup and her own version of salad.

We both looked at the menu, but Deanna then shocked me by saying, “Robbie always ordered for me. Now ... you can. Just no shrimp. I’m grossed out by them. I can be an aggressive cunt at times, I admit it, hell, I’m a fucking prima donna or diva at times, but I kind of like it when the man takes charge. Robbie goofed up a few times, but except when he ordered shrimp, I still ate it and acted grateful, which on some level I was. After all, nobody put a gun to my head and told me to let him order for me. I had plenty of chances to back out. So, what will it be, fiance?”

“Wow, you’ve really thought about this, haven’t you, in just, what, a dozen minutes? You’re a thinker, I’ll give you that. Always a smart cookie,” I chuckled with some amazed admiration for her “I know what I want” attitude.

“With a sweet nookie,” Deanna turned my statement into a rhyme, making me laugh and nearly snort out my soup.