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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The Six Letter Word
by DrSpin (drspin@newsguy.com)
30 December 1999
***
A guy's wife dosen't like to lose and when she does,
she'll do anything it takes to get another chance to
even the score. Anything. (MF, cpls, swap, swing)
***
DrSpin's Standard Disclaimer: I write and you read, if
you care to. That's all there is to it. If any reader is
offended, and I would be surprised to hear it, he/she
should not have been here in the first place and only
has himself/herself to blame. If this story is
relocated, please leave my name intact as the author and
please include my email address.
Some people are so competitive they forget to think
straight. Sure, we're all competitive to a point. But
some people won't give up agreeably or give in
graciously, and you recognise them not so much by what
challenge they will take on but what challenge they
won't. You see, arch competitors will not compete in
events in which they think they may be inferior. But
give them an opportunity to try the mettle at something
they fancy, then settle back and watch the sparks fly.
I was married to an arch competitor. She was forever
challenging me in her best fields of endeavor and
sticking it to me good, hard and proper. Man, she loved
to win. Any form of cards, any form of board game, any
sort of quiz or puzzle, she'd play me any time and make
herself blissfully happy by beating me, which she did
almost all of the time because she was not only very
good at it but she tried so hard I got exhausted
watching her. But could I get her out on a golf course
to square the ledger? No damn way. Not that, not tennis,
not anything with a ball and a stick. She professed vast
contempt for such activities but I knew better. If she
had any real talent she would have been out there at the
crack of dawn every day.
Robyn kicked my butt on a regular basis. There was an
upside to it because it could make her hotter than a
rapid-fire pistol. The downside was when she
occasionally lost, because she wouldn't speak a civil
word to me for hours. Sometimes days, if it was a
serious defeat. Easy, you might say. I should have just
let her win all the time. Unfortunately it was not that
simple. She became really angry if I threw the game or
did not try hard enough. You couldn't fake it because
she was too competitive and too smart.
This, thus and then, is a story of heroic theme. The
problem about being a fast gunfighter is that you're
only as fast as your last gunfight. Sooner or later
somebody faster will appear the end of the street. Billy
the Kid went down. Napoleon came to Waterloo. Rommel
retreated at El Alamein. And Robyn fell to earth on a
Deluxe Scrabble board, beaten at the death by a six-
letter word. Fittingly, the word was 'hazard'.
Martin was clever but lazy with it because of his
arrogance. We played Scrabble after dinner at his place,
the four of us, with Shona and I just making up the
numbers. Martin flirted with the lead a few times and
looked occasionally threatening with elegant words and
neat tricks. Robyn's concentration never deviated and,
expectedly, she won.
"Play again," said Martin to Robyn. "This time, just you
and me. You won't be able to follow your husband's easy
leads."
Unfair. Maybe. Or was I unconsciously letting Robyn win?
She welcomed the challenge.
"I'll beat you more easily," she said with a tight grin.
"Face it, you're just not up to it." Right up her alley,
this.
"Let's make it a real contest," countered Martin. He
pointed out the open concertina doors. "If I win you
have to execute five dives from the board into the
swimming pool. Stark naked."
I moved to intervene. "Now listen here," I said.
Robyn waved her hand at me impatiently. Her blood was
up, the fire was in her eyes and she never ever
contemplated losing. "Well, sure," she said. "On the
condition that if I win, you have to drop your trousers
and masturbate in front of us."
"It's a deal," he responded immediately. He grinned at
her aggressively.
"Starting to get nervous, Robyn?"
"You'll be nervous when you have to drop your trousers,"
she retorted.
"We'll see, my dear," he replied patronisingly, and I'm
sure he knew how much it would irritate her. "We will
see how well you play under pressure."
I looked at Shona and raised my eyebrows. She shrugged
at me helplessly. Maybe she had similar problems with
her spouse. Nevertheless I tried again. "Isn't this
going a bit over the top?" I asked them. "For God's sake
it's just a board game." They both looked at me
scornfully and turned back to set it up.
Robyn led from the front and piled on the points
relentlessly. You could see Martin was a clever player
but he could not quite catch up. The end was nigh. He
had six tiles and she just one, and he was 66 points
behind. Poker-faced, he laid down the tiles and spelled
out the word. Hazard. 64 points. "I believe," he said
calmly, "you have an unused H, which means a negative
four points to your score."
Robyn was ashen-faced. Never at any stage had she
imagined she would lose. Now she had her triumph
snatched away in an instant. "Shit," she said with rich
feeling, and she rarely swore. She looked at me, then at
Shona and finally at Martin. "Best two out of three?"
she offered tremulously.
He laughed. "It's over and you know it. Would you give
me a second chance?" Of course she wouldn't. We all knew
that. He gestured towards the pool. "I suggest we
adjourn outside for the evening's entertainment."
Again I intervened. "She doesn't have to do this," I
told Martin. "It's just a stupid bet on a stupid game.
Who cares?"
"It's no use, old chap," he said cheerfully, clapping me
lightly on the shoulder. "She knows she has to pay up.
That's what playing is all about."
Robyn looked at me sorrowfully for a moment, picked
herself upright with an effort and headed towards the
pool. We followed her outside and Martin flicked on the
pool lights. She walked next to the diving board,
hesitated for a moment, and started to disrobe. She was
in semi-darkness but I could see plainly she was naked
as she pushed aside her bundle of clothing with a foot.
She stepped up to the diving board and carefully walked
its length, emerging into the throw of the lights.
My wife was no exceptional beauty. She had a strong face
rather than a pretty one and she was a little on the
short side, but she had a fairly good figure and she was
fit. We had no children yet and at 28 she looked young
and strong. Her average-sized breasts stood out in
profile and her wiry pubic hair was shaded in the valley
of her thighs.
She didn't look at us standing grouped at the side of
the pool. Instead she looked ahead and down at the
water. She gathered herself, jumped lightly on the board
and threw herself forward less than elegantly into the
pool. She swam to the edge directly below us and looked
up at Martin defiantly. "That's one," she said. She
hauled herself out, water streaming from her body and
marched off to do it again.
Resolutely she completed the assignment. I had to admire
her attitude. She'd lost and she was paying the price,
and she did so without cringing or complaining. Shona
brought her a towel and she dried off and dressed in
front of us. We had polite coffee and went home.
I attempted to sit her down and talk to her, thinking it
was an ideal time to suggest constructively she was
allowing her competitive nature to get the better of her
judgement. She brushed me aside. "Let's get to bed," she
said, and she meant it. She was extremely demanding. As
usual she wanted oral stimulation and she was so urgent
about it she started pushing my head towards the
appropriate place as I was still climbing into bed. She
came almost savagely. That night Robyn was as hot as I'd
ever known her.
*
Two nights later I came home from work to find Robyn
busy in the kitchen. "Martin and Shona are coming over
for dinner," she explained. I closed one eye and looked
at her suspiciously. She smiled thinly. "I want my
revenge," she said. "He's agreed to play whist."
Whist. It was her very favourite card game. She was a
tiger at it. I opened my mouth to be cautionary but
closed it again. She had that look in her eye and she
would not be deterred.
Shona was starting to establish a form of communication
with me. As she came through the door she rolled her
eyes at me apologetically. I nodded quietly, indicating
my understanding. We were bystanders watching two
bulldozers colliding. I'd always liked Shona. She was so
unpretentious, so simply nice. She was a stay-at-home
housewife, I guessed at Martin's insistence. She was the
best cook I'd ever met and she had a soft and generous
outlook on life which broadly matched her appearance.
Shona was an all-woman woman. She had a big and broad
bottom but to balance it she had big and broad tits.
After dinner the two protagonists set up for the whist
battle. Martin wanted to know about the stakes. "I'm
glad you asked," said Robyn with a flinty look in her
eyes. "When you lose you will be required to perform as
a male stripper at a shower tea I'm hosting next week
for a friend who's getting married." She smiled
triumphantly. "About 20 girls will be there. Should be
fun."
Martin appeared unfazed. "What if I win? What shall I
require of you?"
She waved her hand at him carelessly. "Put up what you
like," she said confidently. "I don't care because this
is one bet I definitely will not lose."
"Whatever I like?"
"Whatever."
"Okay. How about this? If I win you have to spend this
weekend with me at my total and absolute command."
She hesitated for only a second. "Sure," she said. "No
problem." She turned her head to glance at me and Shona
sitting together on the couch. "It won't happen," she
said to both of us.
But it did happen. It wasn't even close. He kicked her
backside. When she lost she said nothing but rose from
the table and walked outside the house into the darkness
of the garden. "A bet's a bet," Martin said to me.
"She's going to have to pay up. But I have no quarrel
with you and to show it, I'll have Shona come over here
and spend the weekend with you. Right?"
I heard Shona's sharp intake of breath beside me. But
she said nothing. Martin stood up and grabbed his coat.
"Come on," he said to his wife. "It's better if we go
now." He looked back at me as he went out the door.
"Tell Robyn I'll be in touch."
"You can't do this," I said to Robyn when she came in
through the kitchen.
"Don't be stupid all your life," she lashed at me
angrily. "I have no choice." And she refused to discuss
it further. I cleaned up while she sat in the dark
living room. I left her there and went to bed. Later she
prodded me awake and groggily I buried my head under her
nightgown and gave her what she wanted.
On Friday evening she waited with a small carry bag. She
still wouldn't discuss it. In fact she ignored me
altogether. I opened the door to the ring and it was
Shona, also carrying a small case. She looked at me
apprehensively with wide blue eyes. Robyn brushed past
both of us without a word and headed down the path to
Martin's car. She got in without a look back and they
drove away.
"Well," I said to Shona. "Peace at last."
She looked at me curiously. "I ought to be horrified
about this strange turn of events," she said.
"Don't be horrified. Be hungry. Do you like Thai food?"
"Love it."
"Then set down that case. We're going straight out."
I took her to my favourite restaurant and, true to her
word, she loved it. Robyn disliked Asian-style cooking.
We chatted and gossiped about everything but our
spouses. The night lengthened, however, and we would
soon have to leave. "We'd better discuss arrangements,"
I said hesitantly. "Nobody seems to have given us a
second thought in all this. Shona, I have to tell you I
place no obligation on you. I expect nothing except your
company, and so far it has been excellent."
"Thank you," she said. "I've always liked you, Jim. I
think you're just about the nicest man on two legs.
You're right. Nobody seems to care about us. So I
figure, what the hell? Let's go for it."
"Then it's off home and thence to bed?"
She lifted her glass at me. "Why not? Might be
interesting."
It was much more interesting than just interesting.
Shona, with her big soft breasts and her broad hips, was
a definite physical presence. Automatically I went down
on her straight away. After years with Robyn I did it
without a thought. She clutched her hands in the hair of
my head. "God in heaven," she cried excitedly. She
nearly broke my nose with her writhing and twisting and
she crashed into a loud and fevered orgasm.
"I do so love that," she said with her head on my chest.
"It's been years since anybody did it to me." She lifted
her head and looked me in the eye. "Now, I think I've
recovered enough to return the pleasure." She grasped my
stiff cock, licked at it speculatively with her pink
tongue and then slid it into her mouth. God in heaven
indeed. Robyn hadn't done that for the longest time, and
only then with a reluctance so stonily obvious you could
build a garden wall with it.
Shona and I shared a night of sex. Spelled s-e-x. She
was warm and tender and accommodating. And appreciative
of my attentions. We also talked and joked and laughed.
It was good unclean fun. In the morning I woke and she
wasn't beside me. I searched and found her in the
kitchen cooking what looked like a hearty breakfast.
"Best meal of the day," she said.
I never ate breakfast. Never had time during the week
and during the weekend Robyn liked to sleep in after a
busy week herself. Breakfast never happened. With Shona
it did. Three courses of it with coffee and I ate it all
up with enthusiasm. We sat at the table looking at each
other.
"You're wonderful," I said to her simply and frankly. It
was precisely what I was thinking.
"You're not bad yourself," she said.
"I have to know more about you," I said. "I want to hear
everything about you from the moment you were born."
"I talk better when I'm being cuddled," she said. "You
want to go back to bed?"
I smiled a big smile of contentment. "Didn't I say you
were wonderful?"
Funny. I'd never actually laughed before during sexual
intercourse. Once I did so, however, it seemed the most
natural thing in the world. She was giggling herself.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked. "You've got me going
too."
"No fucking idea," I said. "Just happy, I guess."
I couldn't remember a better weekend. We went to the
movies, something neither of us had done in years, and
held hands in the dark. We went sailing on the river on
Sunday morning in a friend's 12-footer. We ate and drank
frequently with freedom and enjoyment and we fucked
ourselves to a standstill. But Sunday night approached.
"Thank you," I said. She lay beside me. It was our final
session and we knew it.
"It's been a wonderful weekend."
"Yes," she said simply.
The phone rang and I picked it up. It was Robyn. "I
won't be coming home tonight," she said tersely. "Can't
explain now. Martin says to tell Shona to stay until
further notice." I opened my mouth to say something but
she'd already rung off.
"Well," I said to Shona. "Here's a turnup. Martin wants
you to stay a bit longer."
She rolled across and kissed me sloppily. "Great," she
said fiercely. "I was dreading going back."
A reprieve. The pace could slow. Time to talk. Time for
truth, and it tumbled out. She didn't care too much
about Martin. I hadn't missed Robyn for a moment. We
were, we decided, much nicer people than they were.
"Fine," I said, "but can we do it?"
"I love you, Jim Price," she said.
"And I love you, Shona Wilson."
We burst out laughing. Do it? Of course we could.
Next day I rang Martin and told him I had to see him. We
agreed to meet at his house soon after midday. I didn't
beat around the bush. "There's been a dramatic turn of
events," I said. "We need to talk urgently."
"I'll show you dramatic," he said. "Come with me." He
took me by the elbow.
"You'll be amazed."
He knocked on a door. "Hi Robyn," he said loudly. "I've
brought a nice man to see you."
I heard my wife's voice shouting angrily behind it.
"Martin, you rotten bastard. Will this never end?"
He opened the door. Robyn was flat on her back on a bed,
naked and spread wide, with her wrists and ankles tied
to the bedposts. She saw me standing in the doorway. "Oh
shit," she said savagely. "What the fuck is he doing
here?"
"Gee, that's not a very nice welcome for your dearly
beloved," Martin said mildly. He turned to me. "It's
certainly been interesting. I mean, she's such a total
player. Do you know, she's fucked four complete
strangers this morning? Well, friends of mine - but
she'd never met them before today."
I bent forward and looked closely. I could see the
evidence. "Martin," she said bitterly. "You are such an
evil cunt." She spat out the last word. I'd never before
heard her use it. I turned and left the room.
I was standing out by the pool when he caught up with
me. "Sorry about that," he said, but I could see in his
eyes that he was not. "It's been a fair old battle.
Sometimes she wins but mostly she loses."
"I'm afraid I don't give much of a hell of a damn," I
said to him. "It's Shona I want to talk about. We've
decided she won't be coming back to you."
I saw the shock in his eyes. He covered it but I was
looking. "True?"
"True."
"Well, there's a twist," he said thoughtfully. He had
recovered his cool.
"So you can keep Robyn to play your games with," I said.
"I don't care."
"I'll need Shona's word on this," he said levelly.
"Of course. I don't own her. You can see her whenever
she likes."
"Damn," he said. "I'll miss her."
I left him to it. And Robyn. Shona said Martin had been
at her for years to sleep with other men. She'd even
done it once, just to appease him. In fact I had been
discussed as a further possible candidate.
We got down to things I was good at. Arrangements.
Financial agreements. Asset splitting. Just detail, and
I was trusted to do it fairly. Piece of cake, really.
Last I heard, Robyn and Martin had split up. I didn't
care to chase it down. She could have a divorce whenever
she wanted. Shona and me are just great, thanks. Born
and bred to be together. Sometimes you lose, sometimes
you win.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 69