129 comments/ 31392 views/ 30 favorites My Wife Became A Groupie By: stev2244 Warning - I like reconciliation stories. If you're looking for burning bitches, willing cuckolds, consensual swinging, wife-sharing or detailed sex scenes, you're wasting your time with this story. Like with my other stories. I'm a German and writing in a foreign language might cause some grammar errors in my story. xxxxxxx Finally, it's Saturday. My wife Ashley and I are at the rock concert we've been looking forward to for such a long time. Tickets were almost impossible to get. But by pulling in some favors I had finally managed to get some, to Ashley's great delight. I was extremely well rewarded for it, so who am I to complain? And whenever she really wants something, it's hard not to do everything to fulfill her wish. The reason is - my wife is hot, really hot. At least I think so and the wide-eyed stares and open mouths of many other males tell me that they tend to agree. To make things worse - or better, depending on your point of view - she has a knockout body and is not reluctant to show it off. And currently she wears a short top, ultra short hot pants and shows off a bare, tight midriff. Talk about drop dead gorgeous. I have problems to follow the proceedings on stage without being too distracted by her. And I'm proud to see that other men and even some women seem to have the same problem. Tough luck, guys. She's mine. How attractive a particular man appears in a woman's eyes has always been a complete mystery to me. Whenever I've tried to judge other men in that regard when talking to Ash, I've failed miserably. "Hey, that guy must be eye candy for women, right?" "Danny, seriously? Only with a towel on his face." So I'm not too sure about my own attractiveness as well. I tend to be cautious in such things, trying not to be overconfident. But I also believe that I can't be overly ugly if she's chosen me. And the behavior other women in my presence has helped to confirm this assumption. And I'm certain that Ash loves me. So I tend to feel quite relaxed and safe when other guys are hitting on her. Which happens most of the time. To be more precise, it happens all the time. It has to be very annpying for her and I admire how friendly she manages to be when elegantly brushing the twentieth guy off. We're deeply in love with each other and we're both absolutely certain that we will grow old together. So we've decided that we're too young for children and we will have plenty of time for that later. As a result we enjoy our carefree life immensely right now. Ash has just lost her job because the company went bankrupt but it's no problem as I earn enough for both of us. And we're quite certain that she'll have a new job in no time. So it doesn't worry us at all. Right now, we've finally made it to the front row. I don't like it here very much, there's too much pressure. Exchanging sweat with smelly, frantically moving people is not my idea of a good time. But Ash adores Jimmy - the lead singer - and wants to see him as closely as possible. I'm not jealous or concerned, as one of the world's most famous rock stars he's as accessible as the moon for her. And I think moving to the front row has at least one advantage. The nearer you come, the more you realize that he's actually rather unattractive and unremarkable. At least in my opinion. Which might be flawed, as I've explained earlier. But I like their music and I'm trying my best to have a reasonably good time despite the circumstances, while Ash is really freaking out, dancing and cheering like mad. She's not even noticing the occasional weirdo using the situation to rub a little against her body. I have to shoot some - ususally successful - warning glances from time to time. Jimmy is currently busy with one of their slow songs. He's standing quite close to us when he notices Ash and starts looking at her all the time. He even points at her and she waves back, smiling happily. Yeah, man. Dream on. She's mine. Suddenly, two massive security guys appear and lift her over the barrier. Hey, wait. This is no fun any more. I'm suddenly quite alarmed. But Ash is delighted and blows me a kiss while she is led along the small open space in front of the stage. "Hey, wait," I scream! But no one hears me, it's way too loud. I try to follow her over the barrier, but two other security goons stop me roughly. I try to tell them that she's my wife but they don't even listen. I feel powerless and humiliated. I try to leave the hall, which takes me an eternity. Getting through the crowd is like being in one of these underwater dreams where you're unable to move, except in some kind of slow motion. I finally reach an exit and run around outside, confused and trying to find some kind of backstage entrance. It takes me another eternity to find it and I see that there's already a big group of girls assembled, hoping to get a glimpse of Jimmy and his band. I knock on the door like a madman, but no one answers. The young groupies look at me like I'm completely nuts. Which is not too far from the truth. I send her a text message. "Where are you? Are you okay?" No response. I try to phone her all the time. No one answers. Okay, just wait, I decide. Try to breathe normally. She will appear sooner or later. I try, rather unsuccessfully, to calm down a little. I wait for endless hours at the backstage entrance, being worried shitless. The concert is long over. The place is silent and deserted by now, the wind blows garbage across the empty expanse of concrete. I'm completely alone and the concert hall lights are mostly turned off. Not a single person has come through the damn door. Obviously, it's just a bogus to distract the fans. Shit. The morning finally dawns, still no message from Ash. Finally, at about seven, I receive a text message. "im ok dont worry" I immediately try to call her, but my call is blocked. I text her "Ash, please call me. I'm worried sick. I'm still outside the concert hall." No answer. So, without seeing an alternative course of action, I finally go home. But I'm desperate and I can't sleep. I just wander around in the apartment restlessly, texting and calling her all the time. But her phone is obviously switched off. At about eleven, my doorbell rings. I jump up. Ash! Finally. I'm overjoyed. But to my dismay, two of the band's filthy security goons are standing there with a kind of list. "Sorry, buddy. We're here to pick up her stuff. We have a list. Stay calm and you won't be harmed." "Where is she?" "Probably fucking somebody. She's a hot fuck. Everybody had their turn on her. The band, the staff, we security guys. She will be quite loose when she returns. If she returns." They both laugh. I feel absolutely broken and humiliated, trying not to cry in front of these assholes. They are busy collecting everything on their list and feel right at home while they're doing it. After a few minutes they are finished and leave without another word. I'm still stunned. My phone rings. It's Ash, finally. "Ash. Where are you? When will you come home to me?" "Danny, sorry, I will stay with the band until the tour ends." "Ashley, you're leaving me?" "No, dummy, of course not. I'll just accompany them for a while. Afterwards I'll be yours again." "Ashley, these two guys that picked up your stuff told me that everybody has fucked you. Band, staff, security. They humiliated me. Are you cheating on me?" "Oh, they did? They were instructed to be tactful. They will be in trouble. Jimmy won't accept that." "Ashley, answer my question." "Of course I have sex. I'm a groupie now. But only the band is fucking me." "Ashley! You can't so that! We're married. How long will this go on?" "The tour will and in December." "Ashley, that's four months." "Yes." "Ashley, I can't accept that, we're married. You're cheating in the worst possible way." "Sorry, honey. It's the chance of a lifetime for me. I'll make it up to you. Gotta run, see you." And the line is dead. Shit. I've just lost my wife. In a cold way she has left me for a bunch of ugly rock stars. I start to cry a little, feeling lost and lonely. It has all been too quick and without warning. My perfect life has turned into a pile of horseshit within a few hours. Shortly afterwards I receive a text message. "hon don't be mad. i'm still yours." Again, I pace around in the apartment. I'm sad. I'm humiliated. I'm desperate. My wife has just been taken from me. Plucked like an apple from a tree. And there's nothing I can do about it. And slowly, my hurt turns into anger. How can she do this to me? Does our marriage mean nothing? How can she hurt me that way? Obviously, she has never loved me. And that cold way in which she assumes she can just live her dream without me and have me back any time. That I will be the patient cuckold, waiting at home. That bitch. I reply. "Don't bother to come home." "dont be silly. i love you. you love me." "Seriously." No answer. The anger helps. I run a 10K lap and feel better. At least a little. Well, not really that much, to be honest. xx On Monday my boss, who is a great guy, senses that I'm in trouble somehow. He asks me if I need help and I roughly explain the situation. He's a lot older than me and has a lot of life experience. But even he is stunned. "Danny, we have an open position in Philadelphia. Maybe a complete new location will be good for you. I could help you getting it. I don't want to lose you, but if you stay here, in your old surroundings, you will be useless anyway. And you're due for a promotion that I can't give you here. Payment will be better too. About 120K, I think." "Boss, you're great. I'll think about it." xx And that's what I do. For several days I hardly do anything else. I just think about Ash. And about the new position. If I can do it. If I want to give up Ash by moving to Philly. But I realize that I've already lost her. She has taken this decision from me. If I accept such kind of behavior, I'll be the spineless wimp of the century and she'll feel free to fuck anyone that strikes her fancy. Of course, she sends meaningless text messages all the time. "love you." "think of you.". But I can never reach her on the phone to talk to her. She always refuses to take the call. I finally decide that I've had enough. I won't try to contact her again and I tell my boss that I accept. And I thank him again. A week after the damn concert, I sign the new contract and start to pack my stuff. The company pays for the relocation. I receive a text again. "we're going to south america, europe, asia. isnt that exciting?" "Ashley, I'll file for divorce on Monday." Immediately my phone rings. "Danny, you're not serious, are you? I love you." "No, you don't. And yes, I'm serious." "Wait until I return. We'll talk about it." "No." "Danny, I'm in Toronto. I can't come home now." "Would you want to if you could?" She hesitates shortly. "No, this is the most exciting time of my life. I need this. Please be patient." She tries to speak as softly and lovingly as possible. "I'll be gone when you return." "No, you love me. And please remember that I love you. Please wait for me. I beg you." I hang up. A text pops up: "please..." and another "i'll explain later" "and i'll make it up. 1000 times. but please don't leave me!!!!" I answer with "have a nice life" She returns "Nooo. Please! Don't leave me! You won't regret it." xx On Monday I visit a lawyer, explain the situation and show the text messages. I ask for 50% of our savings. The apartment is rented anyway. No problem, he says. Abandonment makes things easier. If she stays with the band, the divorce will be final in three months. Good. While I'm in his office, another text from Ashley appears: "i love you". "Yeah, fuck you, bitch," I loudly exclaim. I have to chuckle a little and think that it seems my opinion of her has suffered considerably recently. I also question how I could be able to overlook her obvious character flaws for so long. Has she just hidden them well enough or has her hot body totally blinded me? Anyway, it doesn't really matter. Philly and my new life are waiting for me. I try to be enthusiastic about it. Rather unsuccessfully. xx I instruct the moving company to put her stuff and her furniture into storage. The storage will be paid from our former joint account, which is now hers alone. She will have access to the storage area. This is the easiest way to separate everything. Text messages come in all the time. It gets a little annoying. "we're in LA. luv u" "arrived in rio. fantastic city. i'm yours. please always remember that" "great concert in buenos aires. love you. only you." I decide not to read them any more. It's the same stuff all the time, anyway. And it doesn't make me feel any better to read this stuff, it just freshens the pain. I need to move on. Four weeks after the concert a strange text catches my eye though. "Exclusive for you again!" Whatever that means. I don't ask her because I feel that it doesn't really matter. I settle into a nice routine in Philly. I like my new job. I have no shortage on female attention. The Ashley disaster still hurts. But at least my male self-confidence slowly returns. xx By November I have a steady girlfriend again. I'm a one-woman man and I'm happy to be in a steady relationship again. Her name is Sue. We still have separate apartments, but we mainly stay in mine because it's nicer and bigger. One day Ashley calls. For the first time in two months. "Hey Danny." "Ashley." "How are you doing? Sorry that I didn't call you. But I have sent messages to let you know that I'm okay." "Yeah, you did. I haven't read them for a while, though." "You haven't?" "No. I'm over you. I've moved on." Which is not entirely true. But I'm working on it. "Danny!" She sobs now. "I know, I've done something terrible to you. But please be patient. I need you." I just hang up. She calls again but I ignore her. I think it's only fair after she has ignored all of my calls for months. I continue dressing up for my dinner with Sue. Ashley's call only slightly annoys me. I'm really mostly over her. And I'm looking forward to my evening with Sue. xx In December Sue and I think about her moving into my big apartment. I really like her a lot. Maybe it's not true love, but she's very attractive and my feelings for her grow constantly. I'm sitting in my favorite easy chair and have just come to the decision that it's a great day when Ashley calls again. I'll probably have to revise my opinion about the quality of the day, I think. "Hi Danny. Honey." "Ashley." "Danny, I'm at the airport. I'm yours now again. Only yours. Forever. Could you please pick me up here?" "Ashley, do you know that we're not married any more?" "What?" I hear that she starts to cry. "You're serious?" "Yes. The divorce is final for about a month now. But nobody had your address to notice you." "But Danny... yes, I know. I've put you through a terrible time. But I've hoped that you would endure that limited time of separation for me." "Well, I haven't. I don't even live in Minneapolis any more. So I can't pick you up." "What? Danny, where do you live?" "In Philadelphia. I have a new job here. And I have a new girlfriend. I'm happy again after months of pure misery. I've moved on." She's openly sobbing now. "Bu.. but Danny. I'm yours now. Everything can be as it was before." "No, nothing will be as it was before." I'm quite angry now. The bitch surely has a nerve. "You've abandoned me. You left me standing there, powerless. Unable to even talk to you. Worried shitless. You cheated on me, probably hundreds of times. No, what we've had is completely gone. I have quit the apartment, you'll have to find another one. You have half of our savings, so you should be able to start over. Maybe you even have some savings from your time as a prostitute for the band and the staff. This way you'll be ok, financially. Your stuff is in storage. Goodbye." I hang up and send her the storage details in a text message. Of course, various texts and calls flood in. Which I ignore completely. xx In January Sue moves in with me. I'm a little reluctant at first because I'm afraid that she might hurt me, like Ashley did. It seems that I'm a little gun-shy, but I finally agree. Practically, it's a rather small step as she mostly lives in my apartment anyway. She'll just give up hers, which has been mainly a storage unit for some of her stuff recently. But nonetheless it's some kind of commitment and it makes me a little nervous. But we settle into a joint household easily. Living with her is easy. And through her I find new friends in Philly. We go to a lot of parties. She wants to show me off, she says. I'd prefer to spend more time alone with her, but I go along. xx In May she starts to talk about a possible marriage. The hints are rather subtle, but hard to miss. I'm not really into another marriage after my disaster with Ashley though. And it seems too early for such a step anyway. I try to explain this in a gentle way, but she doesn't take it too well. Thinking of my failed marriage, I notice that I haven't received messages from Ashley for quite a while. I had mostly ignored them anyway, but now they've completely stopped. I'm glad about getting rid of this distraction. I want to move on and prefer not be reminded of my old losses. xx Today is the seventh of July. I'm at work but half an hour ago one of our machines broke down. I contact the service but they can't be here before tomorrow. Just great. I'm under pressure anyway and now my department is going to lose several production hours. Anyway, at least I can go home now, there's nothing for me to do here right now. I also send my workers home. I open the door to our apartment and I'm surprised that Sue seems to be home. At least her keys are lying in their usual spot. I go towards the bedroom, wanting to get rid of my tie and suit. "You horny bastard, fuck me." I freeze. That's Sues voice. Shit. It's happening again. My woman is cheating on me. Shit. Shit. I slowly and a little reluctantly approach the bedroom, fully knowing that what I'm about to see is going to hurt me. I see a rather overweight guy fucking Sue from behind. I feel insulted, seeing how unattractive he is. Sue prefers such an ugly turd to me? Something is definitely looking wrong here. Sue is a beautiful woman, what is she doing with such a slob? "Is this your boss, Sue?" That's the only possible explanation for what I'm seeing. "Danny," she screams! "Don't overreact please. This is nothing. Yes, this is my boss." The guy quickly extracts himself from her and hurriedly starts to dress. I don't pay attention to him. And - to my surprise - I notice that I'm not all that much interested in Sue's reaction either. On a sudden whim, I grab the guy as he wants to leave the room. "Hey, let me go. I've done nothing wrong. Every guy would bang her. Hell, everybody does." "What does that mean?" "Barry, shut up!" "No, tell me." "Ask her." And he manages to extract himself because I'm not interested in him any more. He seems to decide not to overstress our hospitality and leaves immediately. "Danny, he's an idiot," she says, but only after he's gone. So she doesn't want to antagonize him. So she plans to continue this. "Don't believe him." "It doesn't matter." "Yes, it doesn't. I'm sorry that you had to see this. I didn't want to hurt you. You're a good man. But I think I'm just not made for a steady relationship. I feel confined in here anyway. I tried to force myself to be monogamous by marrying you. But luckily, you refused. And you still love your ex." My Wife Became A Groupie "What? Nonsense." "Danny, it's obvious. Can I please stay in the guest room until I've found another place?" "Yes. But please don't bring your lovers here." "Okay. Thanks." Wow, that has been surprisingly easy. And I don't even feel particularly hurt. I almost feel a little bad about this, I really should be more affected, emotionally. Has the Ashley disaster maybe turned me into a cold and hard bastard? Or have I just not loved Sue? I don't know. Not as much as I've loved Ashley, that's for sure. So there's still hope I haven't turned into an uncaring asshole. Surprisingly, what bothers me more than the end of my relationship with Sue is her statement that I still love Ashley. That has struck some nerve. I just hope she's wrong with this one. xx Sue leaves my apartment two weeks later without a fuss. We even manage to stay friends. I don't ask her for details or the number of men she's seen. But I get myself tested for STDs and two weeks later I'm relieved to hear that I'm clean. After breaking up with Sue, I haven't much motivation to play the field again. Somehow, I'm tired of women. And tired of this whole mating procedure and the emotions involved. It just doesn't seem to be worth it. xx On a chilly October Thursday I get the first text message from Ashley since a long time. I've been thinking about her from time to time. Wondering what she might be doing right now. "Danny, where do you live in Philly?" What? Why does she want to know that? I don't answer. I don't want her in my life. On the next day she tries again: "Danny, please. I'd like to talk to you. At least to say goodbye properly. And apologize." Well, I can hardly deny her that, can I? So I text her my address. Twenty minutes later my doorbell rings. It's Ashley. Fuck. She's in Philly? And even worse - she looks absolutely gorgeous. She hasn't changed much. She's even more beautiful, if that's possible. "Hi Danny." "Hi Ashley." "Can I come in?" "Sorry, yes." I lead her into my living room. "Nice apartment." "Thanks. Something to drink?" The tension is thick. I try to remain calm by being formal. She seems to be following the same strategy. So this is turning into some conversation straight from Buckingham Palace. "Yes, a water please." "I'm surprised you're here in Philly." "I live here." "Oh, for how long?" "For about eight months." "This is no coincidence, I assume?" "No, I've followed you here. But I couldn't find you. I've tried for several months. Until I finally gathered the courage to ask you." "You waited that long?" "Yes. I wanted to live as a celibate for at least a year before I see you again. The year was endless and I was terrified that you'd be married by the end of it. But I needed the time to prove something to me and you. That I'm no slut. Not any more." "Well, slut or not. You broke up our marriage by leaving me. But I believe you when you say that you haven't had sex for a year. And it's a good sign that you are in control of yourself again. But it doesn't really matter for us. We're history." "Danny, I've only had sex with the band for about four weeks. Afterwards I took a regular job as a tour manager. And if they'd ask me to accompany them again today, I'd decline." "Yeah, you've had your adventure. You dumped me without a second thought. That showed me how unimportant I've been for you. You fucked a lot. You've seen the world. At my cost. I sat at home, crying. I've been in hell. I won't ever be able to trust you again. Now you've had your adventure. You've had sex with your idols. You've seen the world. And you want to get your life back on track. And oh, yes, there was this guy. What's his name? Ah yes, Danny. Wouldn't it be convenient to take him back? The little wimp has surely waited patiently until the whole music industry has finished fucking me." She's crying now. "Yes, sorry. I'm so very sorry. I've been thoughtless and selfish. I was overwhelmed by this opportunity. I was unable to resist. Even though I felt terribly guilty. But it cost me too. The best thing I've ever had. You and our marriage." I don't say anything. I can think of no witty reply. "Danny, I've seen a shrink. And I've started to remove the band tattoo." "They've tattooed you? They've marked their slut? It keeps getting better and better." Why do I even care? Why am I even interested in this stuff? Just get rid of her, Danny. She has said her piece. "We all have it. The band and the complete staff. As a souvenir. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But it might always remind you of what I've done. So I've started to have it removed. It's just a small symbol anyway." "Okay, Ashley, now what do you want?" "My ultimate goal is to get you back," she sincerely says, trying to look brave. "Why do you think I might want that? After what you've done to me?" "I don't know, I'm just hoping for a miracle. I will do everything I can but I don't know if it will be enough. I live in Philly now, I have a job here. And I have nothing else to do here. I will spent all of my free time to try to get you back. To try to convince you." "I don't love you any more." "I know. How could you, after what I've done to you? But I will try my best to rekindle that. I might fail, but I will at least try my very best." "My former girlfriend cheated on me too. I really have enough. I don't want a woman around me any more. Nothing steady. I don't even want one night stands right now. I don't want to be hurt again." "Danny, I'm so very sorry. I've been a terrible person. I even knew it back then. And deep inside I knew that you'd leave me. And I think I even appreciated it. It was a healthy reaction. But I tried to suppress that thought. I mean, I've been with Jimmy. The famous rock star. And his band. I've felt so honored and flattered. A groupie at the age of 26. For some of the biggest stars worldwide. When they could have all those young girls. I felt like a teenager again. When his staff wanted to fuck me, it turned sour. I declined and the tensions started to grow. Even his security guys wanted me. I absolutely refused. I had sex with the band members only. And even that quickly began to lose it's appeal. They are not very attractive from close up and they all are boring and rather selfish lovers. Jimmy is not a bad guy though and surprisingly insecure in some ways. So Jimmy and I decided that it would be best if I filled a position as one of the tour managers. They needed someone urgently and they had plenty of young groupies anyway. So I stopped having sex with anybody about a year ago. But the traveling was just marvelous. So I stayed with them. The money was good." "Yeah, I'd loved to have seen these places together with you." I feel hurt again. This conversation is not good for me. It rips open old wounds. And I'm not even sure why I'm having it at all. "Danny, I know and I'm sorry. I've been a selfish bitch. I've been an absolutely terrible person for the four weeks I cheated on you. And I've been selfish for the months I continued to tour with them. But at least I came to my senses and stopped the fucking. And I felt a terrible remorse." "But not enough to return to me." "You had already said that you left me. I guessed if I have to win you back anyway..." "You could as well finish the tour. And add some more damage to what you've already done." "Yes. Sorry. I have some savings now and I would love to use them to travel with you. As a couple or as friends. Whatever I can get. To the places I went to with the band or to others. You decide." "Ashley, you've said your piece. Anything else?" She looks surprised. She has said everything and has failed. She has offered everything she has. And it isn't enough. "Danny, I will devote my life to getting you back. But I need a chance. I need to have contact with you. Only that way I can convince you. We need to be friends at least." "No, Ashley. That doesn't appeal to me. I admit that I'm not as completely over you as I've hoped. But all you bring me right now is pain. I want to get my life back into a balance. I need my wounds to heal." "I know that I'm selfish again. But I can't let you go." The whole scene at the concert flashes back into my mind. All the hurt, the helplessness. I start to cry a little. I think she's never seen me cry. She looks absolutely stricken. "Ashley, this is not good for me. It still hurts too much. Please leave." "I'm so sorry. So terribly sorry...," she says, while leaving my apartment. She's also sobbing now. xx Next day, Saturday, 9 a.m. My doorbell rings. Still a little sleepy, I go to answer it. I'm surprised, Ashley is standing there. She's holding some kind of picnic basket and just breezes past me into my kitchen. "Good morning, Danny," she says while she starts to unpack her basket. "It's breakfast time." "Ashley, please leave. I've had a bad night." My voice is hoarse and trembling. I'm afraid I will strangle her if she stays. I can barely contain my anger. Her brazen behavior pisses me off mightily. "Oh. Yes, mine hasn't been too good either. If I'm honest, my nights haven't been good since that damn concert." She suddenly loses her put-on happiness and begins to watch me closely. "Danny, I'll leave you now. Enjoy your breakfast." She sees the look in my eyes and practically flees from my apartment, leaving the door open. I grab her damn basket and throw it through the door behind her, missing her. She shrieks. I slam the door shut. This is as close as I've ever been to hitting a woman. My hurt seems to have fully turned into anger by now. That bitch. Cheating on me, deserting me, humiliating me, shutting me out of her life for months. Seeing the world. Having a wonderful time without me. And then coming to my home, simply claiming me back. Turning my life upside down. With lots of confidence. And assuming a shitty picnic basket is all it takes. Damn. And the worst thing is how all of this still affects me emotionally. I wish I could treat her cold and dismissive. I try to cool down by running for about an hour. I feel much better afterwards. xx Next day, Sunday, 9 a.m. My doorbell rings. Groundhog Day. And, sure enough, Ashley stands there. She's brave, I have to give her that. And I'm a little flattered that she takes this risk for me. She's obviously very determined. "How's your mood today," she asks tentatively? "Better. Come in." I actually feel quite calm today. Confused, not aggressive. "Thank you." She smiles, looking relieved. She closes the door and places her hands behind her neck. "Yesterday you wanted to hit me. Do it, if you want to. I deserve it. I should have stayed long enough yesterday to take it. I was just too surprised. Go ahead." I look at her, unbelieving, for a full minute. She keeps her face stretched forward and her eyes closed, awaiting the hit. Unbelievable. After an eternity of conflicting emotions running through my head, I slap her very gently - barely noticeable - on the cheek. And then I grab her and kiss her violently on the mouth. She immediately responds and returns my kiss, moaning. I drag her to my sofa, roughly undress her and fuck her forcefully. I don't care about her feelings as I unload inside her and simply push her away from me. I don't even look at her as I go to the shower. I don't care in the least how she feels about this. She can leave whenever she wants to. I even hope she leaves, so I can come to terms with my confused emotions. When I return from the shower, she still stands in front of my sofa, awaiting my reaction. I just point to the door. She immediately complies, saying "Thank you, Danny," while she's leaving. I can't help being impressed by her. And I'm starting to be afraid of where this whole thing is leading to. xx Next day, Monday, 6 p.m. I have already anticipated it. I just wasn't sure about the exact time. My guess was six o'clock and that proved to be correct. The doorbell rings. My guess included Chinese takeaway. And again, that is correct. "You're not too surprised, are you?" "No. I guessed six and Chinese takeaway." "Right on the spot, Danny." She smiles coyly. Being angry with a truly beautiful, smiling woman is a difficult thing. "Come in." "Thank you. And Danny..." "Yes?" "Thank you for yesterday. That was more than I deserved." "Oh, I wanted to apologize for that." "Apologize? Don't you dare. That was the best thing happening to me in more than a year." "Well, you've had a shitty year then." "Yes, mostly. But I've had a great time yesterday. And just to let you know - I'm clean and on the pill. And of course, you can use me in any way you want. Whenever you want. Without obligation. I think that's self-evident, isn't it?" "Good to know. So if I'm horny, I just call you for a blow-job." "Of course!" She looks surprised and almost indignant. "I thought that much was clear." "Good. Now, let's eat. I'm hungry." "Great." "Will you bring food every day?" "Yes, if you let me. Or I'll cook." "Well, let's see." We just eat our meal in silence and afterwards I ask Ashley to leave. She does so without complaining. xx She repeats that on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Either she brings takeaway meals or she brings food to cook me a dinner. I never touch her again, though. On Thursday I ask her to omit Friday. I don't tell her that I have a date with Clara. xx My date is quite nice. The only problem is me. I'm being unfair by comparing Clara with Ashley. And unfortunately, she can't compete. Ashley is a real stunner, centerfold quality. Clara is nice and pretty, but she's in a completely different league. Nevertheless, I enjoy the evening. And I take her to my apartment to have sex with her. It feels good. I don't need Ashley. I can be happy without her. xx I'm barely awake on Saturday morning, shuffling around in my apartment and trying to produce some coffee for me and Clara, when the doorbell rings again. I check the clock. And sure enough, it's nine o'clock. Shit, I've forgotten Ashley's new habit. Clara is still here, wearing one of my T-shirts. I open the door. "Good morning, Danny." Ashley says while she enters. "Ah, I'm Ashley, Danny's ex. I'm just bringing breakfast." And - unbelievable - she offers Clara her hand. "Ah, hi, I'm Clara." "Nice to met you. You two are hungry, I hope?" Clara looks at me questioningly. I just shrug my shoulders. "Sure," she says. "Good. You two need your strength back." I think I look as dumbfounded as Clara as we watch her setting the table. Ashley manages to make some light conversation, seemingly ignoring the weird situation. After breakfast, Clara more or less flees my apartment. "Well, why did she leave that early? I expected you to want another round after breakfast, like you usually do." "I think she was rather surprised how you handled the situation." "Ah, ok. Why?" "Maybe she expected more jealousy? Some tension maybe?" "Okay, Danny. She doesn't know that I don't expect to have you exclusively." "I've used a condom." "Oh, thanks." She smiles. "What for?" "To hear that you plan to have sex with me again. And to hear that you have used only one condom with her. That means that there are two shots left in your magazine." "And you assume to be shot with those?" "No, I don't assume. But a girl can hope, can't she?" "Okay, then let's give you my best shot." She shrieks a little for joy while she jumps off her stool. And this time, I enjoy the sex with her a lot more than last time. I even put a little emotion in it. And I take my time. She is very submissive and caring. And she seems to enjoy it massively and showers me with kisses afterwards. She leaves without a fuss afterwards and I tell her to visit me only after we agree on it. She agrees but is clearly a little disappointed. xx I limit her visits to about two to four times per week. We usually eat and have sex. The sex is getting better and better, even better than before she left me. She refuses me nothing. And I begin to dare being more open, affectionate and emotional again. She senses it and is very grateful. "Ashley, I've noted that you don't refuse me anything now." "That's right, Danny. You haven't even tested my full potential." "Before you left me, you have always refused to have anal sex. And you haven't swallowed. Now you do." "Yes, and I will do a lot more. And to answer your implicit question - no, I haven't done that for them. Only oral and vaginal sex, always with condom. No deep throat." "You can deep throat?" "Yes, I've practiced it for you, using a toy. You want to try?" "Yes, but isn't that painful?" "No, not painful. A little arduous, but I'd really like to do it for you. I have learned it just for you. It would be a shame not to use it. Because no one else will ever benefit from it." "Sounds good. May I ask where your tattoo is? I haven't seen it." "I've had it removed. It can be seen if you look very closely. I will have two more laser sessions, then it will be completely gone. But I won't tell you where it is. If you want to look for it, you're more than welcome." She smiles wickedly. I have to laugh and start searching but can't find it. xx We sit on my sofa, watching a movie. She's more or less back in my life for three months now. And I decide it's time to take stock. Do I love her again? Yes, I've probably never really stopped. Am I still mad? No. Am I still hurt? Yes, a little. This will probably never completely go away. Am I happier with her than without her? Yes, definitely. Am I afraid that she'll do such nonsense again? A little, yes. Trust is still an issue. Do I understand why she has done it? No, not completely. Do I want to see a shrink with her to understand it? No, that won't change anything. So what do I want? I want her in my life, if I'm honest. But permanently. Marriage was obviously not enough to ensure that. But what will? Nothing. I can't keep her against her will. Do I want to take the risk? Maybe. That's the big one. I suddenly realize that she's watching me intently. "So, have you come to a conclusion," she asks? Obviously she knows what I was thinking about. "Some, yes. But not all yet." "Can I help somehow?" Bruce Willis is doing some thing or other in the background meanwhile, being mostly ignored. "I've decided that I want you in my life again. But I don't know how to do it." "It's easy. Just tell me what you want. I'll be anything you want. Slave, wife, lover, mistress, friend with benefits." "The thing is that I love you, Ash." This is the first time I've told her that after the concert. And the first time I've called her Ash again instead of Ashley. "Oh, Danny." She immediately starts the waterworks and hugs me. "But I won't survive if you leave me again. I'm so afraid to make a commitment." "What can I do? Have a tattoo with your name?" "No, that can be removed. And it won't stop you anyway." "Do you want a contract? Leaving me penniless if we split for whatever reason." "Maybe. This won't stop you if you really want out. But it might stop spontaneous foolishness." She gets some paper from her purse. "Here, read this." It is a contract. Some kind of prenup. Saying that she will leave with nothing if we split for whatever reason. No money, no part of our retirement savings or housing. No custody or visitation rights for our children. And it says that she will walk through the streets naked with a sign "cheater" if she cheats on me. I have to laugh. "Children?" "Just covering every possibility." "That's pretty harsh." And I'm questioning if it's even possible to give away rights to children that aren't even sired. But it's a nice detail, showing her determination. My Wife Became A Groupie "Yes, I've already signed. Just put it away somewhere. Anything else I can do to help you to decide for me? You want to hear about what the shrink has come up with?" "No, not really. The short version maybe." "Okay, let me tell you then that she really let me have it. She took me apart quite nicely. Vanity, arrogance, self-centeredness were the key points. And in the end she thought that I've learned my part and suffered enough to mature and probably won't do such madness again. But I've known that at the time anyway." "Good to hear." "So what do you want?" "I see two ways. First: we split up. We could both start over without the baggage. Second: full commitment. Marriage, children, house." "SECOND! I choose second. If I have a say in it." I have to laugh. She looks at me very anxiously. "Okay, Ash. Let's do the second one." She jumps up, shrieking a little and drops on the floor, hugging my knees. "Thank you Danny. For taking back this dumb broad. Even without letting me suffer for too long. I promise to make you happy." And she does. Boy, does she...