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From: DrSpin  <DrSpin_member@newsguy.com>
Subject: {ASSM} 'Four Firm Friends: A Christmas Sharing Story' (F/MMM wife, revenge motive)
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'Four Firm Friends: A Christmas Sharing Story' (F/MMM wife, revenge motive)
by DrSpin
(drspin@newsguy.com)
15 December 1999

================================================================================
DrSpin's Standard Disclaimer:
I write and you read, if you care to. That's all there is to it. I would be
surprised to hear that any of my stories gave offence. If so, the offended
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leave my name intact as the author and please leave my email address.
================================================================================

I'd forgotten just how close we had been but it didn't take long to remember.
The four of us, back together after seven years or so, laughing at the same old
jokes and tripping over the same old tricks. It was a real Christmas holiday
treat, having the old team together and the three of them back in our home town
and already the old fast lines reverberated and the old stories were being told.

"You're kidding," interposed Jean, my wife. We'd been married just short of one
year and she'd not met them previously. "You actually shared girlfriends?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "We were a lot younger then, in all sorts of ways."

"It wasn't so much the sex," Tim explained to her. "It was really all about
camaraderie. We were terrified some girl would come along and split us up, so we
made a pact that if she put out for one she'd be required to put out for all. If
she wanted to hang around, that is."

"Unbelievable," Jean said. "What girl would put up with that sort of
arrangement?"

"Well, some did," I said. "Some didn't either. But we had quite a few club
girlfriends over the years."

"Unbelievable," she said. "Mike's married. Was she a club girl?"

"She's from the city. I never met her," I said.

"What about Tim? He's married too."

"Uh, well..."

Tim broke in. "She was," he admitted cheerfully. "In the early days. I just got
too fond of her to let her go."

"Unbelievable." She looked at me. "So you slept with her?"

"Uh, well, yes. I did."

"And Mike and Duncan too."

"Sure," Duncan said. "It's all in the past, though."

"So what about Mike's wife? Did either of you two have her?"

Duncan looked sheepish. "We kept the pact going for a while," he said. "Sorry,
Larry. You missed out."

"Let me get this right," Jean said. "Both your wives were club girls and Duncan
isn't married. Otherwise she would have been too."

Duncan shrugged. "There were steady girlfriends of mine who qualified."

"Unbelievable. So the only wife or steady girlfriend who hasn't been a club girl
is me."

"Don't worry," Tim laughed. "The pact is dead and gone."

"How long gone?"

Eyes met around the room. "Dunno," said Mike. "It just faded away. A couple of
years, I suppose."

"Yeah," said Tim. "Duncan's had a few new intimate friends lately he hasn't
shared." We all laughed. Except Jean.

"But," she persisted, because she was a para-legal at a law firm and thus very
precise about who said what to whom and what exactly was intended, "if you guys
hadn't gone away Larry would have been expected to share me with you. I mean, we
first met two years or so ago."

"Well," said Duncan, considering. "I guess so."

"Theoretically," said Tim.

"If you wanted to hang on to him," said Mike. "Theoretically."

"So," she said to me directly. I could see she was pissed off and not liking me
overmuch. "Our relationship was never tested. It might have died overnight."

"Don't be silly," I said, smoothly and reassuringly. "These jerks had long gone
to try their luck in the big smoke."

"But if they hadn't, and if I had declined to become a club girl, then we
wouldn't have been married."

"I would have married you anyway," I said confidently.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "The evidence is against it."

"Hey Jean," said Tim. "Take it easy. We're not insisting on our fraternity
rights."

"And why not?" she snapped. "Am I that ugly?"

She knew she was anything but. Jean was a great looking woman in her prime. Room
tension was becoming thick. This thing had slipped out of control and what was
comfortable and happy was no longer so. Jean looked at them, from one to the
other. "You know," she said, "Larry and I have been talking about moving to the
city. I'd hate to be the one to split up a such a long and cosy friendship."

"Hey, I like it here," I said. "I've got everything I want."

"Maybe I don't," she answered in a flash. "And maybe sometimes you get too much
you want. Anyway, how would it be? Mike's wife is a club girl. Tim's wife is a
club girl." She looked across at Tim and Mike sitting on the couch. "How long
are you guys staying in town?"

"Till the weekend," Mike said. "We have to be back for New Year's Eve and we're
all driving back together."

"Three days," she said. She stood up, smoothing out her dress. "Okay," she said
to me. "I accept the conditions."

"Eh? What conditions?"

"The club conditions. Retrospectively. I'll take one guy per night for the next
three nights."

I choked on my drink. "Jean." I was shocked.

"It's only fair," she said. "They've shared with you and you haven't kept up
your end of the bargain. Not by a long stretch."

"This is ridiculous," I said heatedly. "You're not part of it."

"But it's clear that I am," she said. "Obviously I married you under false
pretence. The way I see it, I'm morally bound. Otherwise I should forfeit my
marriage."

"Jean, you know none of that is true."

"Maybe you see it that way now. But in the future who knows what excuse you'll
be looking for."

"Forget it." I was angry. "I forbid it."

"Let's vote," she challenged me. "I say yes." She put up her hand. "Who else?"
Duncan's hand shot up immediately. No surprise. He hadn't changed and never
would.

Mike looked at me slyly. "Fair trade," he said with a smile on his face. "You
can have Chrissie when you come to visit." He put up his hand. "She won't say
no."

"No deal necessary," said Tim, raising his hand. "You've already had Monica."

My mouth was dry. This had gone all wrong. Jean had a small smile on her mouth
and a dark look of what appeared suspiciously like triumph in her eyes. "It's
settled," she said quietly. "Two guys can bunk together in the spare room.
Larry, you'll be on the couch until Saturday."

There was nothing I could do except behave badly, and I had a jealously-guarded
reputation as a cool hand. "This'll cost you all big time," I muttered darkly.

"Hey, no problem," grinned Duncan. "Wait till you see Zelda. You'll think it's a
great idea then."

"Zelda?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "She looks like she sounds."

Jean bustled around, organising beds, pillows and linen, at the same time neatly
and skilfully avoiding my attempts to get her alone. "You put your hand up
first," she said to Duncan. "You're it for tonight." She turned to me. "And I
expect breakfast in bed as usual."

I ground my teeth. "He'll be in my bed. Get him to do it."

"But you're my husband," she replied, too sweetly. "You know what I like."

It's tough being a modern man married to a modern woman. I'd been priding myself
on a today’s-man image; at my rejection of outdated values; just a way-cool guy,
you know? That night the old-fashioned ways didn't seem so unfashionable at all.
I slept on the couch and I did sleep, employing a device I'd learned. I excluded
all thoughts from my mind except those about football. I knocked on the closed
bedroom door at seven next morning, still thinking hard about football, and
carried in the tray with her standard breakfast. "Nothing for you," I growled
menacingly at Duncan. "Get your own."

They were propped up against pillows, covered to the waist by sheets. Her
breasts were bare and she had an arm on his stomach, the hand trailing beneath
the covering sheet where, no doubt, she had a lazy but possessive grasp on his
cock. I knew she was doing it deliberately. She was, in a word, smug. "Thank
you, dear," she said to me. "You're being so good about this. And just as well."

It hit me suddenly that there was something going on. Something other than the
obvious. Something behind all this. I replayed events and conversations rapidly,
looking for a clue. "Shit," I said loudly. "You found out."

"Found out what?" she asked.

"Shit. She told you." I stamped my foot in fury and groaned in frustration.
"Damn it."

"Did she? Who?"

"You know who." We both knew. Her fucking sister. "Jeez, it was only the once.
That junior slut. That fucking whore." I raged impotently around the room. "I
don't believe she told you. Wait a minute." I stopped pacing. "I do believe it.
That's exactly what she would do."

Jean, my bare-breasted wife in my bed with my old pal Duncan, looked up at me
calmly. "Considering who it was and what she put me through, I think a triple
penalty is fair, don't you?" She smiled like a canary-catching cat. "Besides,
what modern woman is going to ignore a free pass like this? I'm a club girl now
and that means, as far as I can see, guilt-free and faultless adultery."

"For you and me both," I reminded her.

"Yes, with Chrissie and Zelda. But not with my little sister." She withdrew her
hand from under the sheet and patted Duncan on the chest. "Hey," she said. "It's
a holiday. That means I can stay in bed for a while yet. Still got a bullet in
the chamber?"

Duncan looked at me semi-apologetically. "She likes to call the shots, doesn't
she?"

She does and I left the room without comment. But I'll tell you this: I really
hate Christmas. You have so much time on your hands and nothing to do but hang
around watching others enjoy themselves.

Oh well, I could always fool about with the new cordless drill Jean gave me for
Christmas. Pity I had two already.

ENDS
(drspin@newsguy.com)

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