Okay, so I have been working on this, on and off. However, mostly what I've been doing is cutting stuff out and moving scenes around to try to make the story a slow build rather than the confusing roller-coaster it is now. As I've mentioned before, my failing is that I get too into a scene and make it way too cucky way too early. Plus, I have just too much of Dave and Ashley talking explicitly and not enough of Dave experiencing things passively.
That said, I have added new scenes. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I introduced a new character near the start - Maddie, a semi-professional domme who Dave bumps into and who gives him some insight. I've been on-again off-again about keeping her in but right now, she's still in the main story. One thing that happens with her is that she looks up one of Mike's previous 'conquests' and helps Dave to get in touch with him.
Dave knows that Mike not only cucked this guy - Simon - but also helped defraud him of a lot of money in a dubious investment scheme. Dave gets in touch, tells him a little of his situation and he agrees to talk to him.
The phone rang. I stared at the number while the phone buzzed on the desk like a live snake. Then, summoning some courage, I snatched it up and said "H., This is Dave Martens."
"Oh. Hi." Said the voice on the other end. It was more Southern than I'd expected. Originally Texan maybe.
"Thanks for, eh, calling." I said.
"Sure." He said casually as if it was no big thing that we were going to talk about.
For a moment I wondered what this was like for him. If it was me, like if Ashley and I broke up over Mike, would I do this? Tell some other poor schmuck, his next victim, what it was like? Probably. Yes. I thought.
"So, eh, you knew Mike?" I said. I guessed there was no point in small-talk.
He barked a laugh. "Yeah. He was my best friend for a while. Best buddy. And business partner. Drinking buddy. Golf buddy. You could say I knew him."
"And ... now?" I asked. I wasn't sure how to approach this. I wanted details, his story. Their story. But how to ask.
"Yeah. Not so much." He said. "We talk on the phone. Meet up in Vegas when he's there. We're still friends but not such close friends I suppose." He sounded almost wistful.
I gasped. "But you're .. still friends?" I asked incredunlously.
He barked another laugh. "Sure. I mean. Why not? There's no point in, bitterness? Is there?"
"Sorry." I said. "I thought. I thought he ruined your business." I hesitated. "And ... stole your wife?"
"Weeelll." He drawled. "You could put it like that. There was a time - I would have put it just like that. But you know, really, a lot of that was my fault. I invested. I knew the risks. Or I thought I did. But I was a grown man. I should have known better. Sure, Mike, helped me along but I really ruined my own business. And Lyra? Sure. He made moves on her. But you know, I could have stopped that. I could have easily stopped it. But I didn't. And she, well, she made her own decisions too. I mean, yeah Mike was involved, but there was three of us in it."
"Okay." I said, my mind crashing into a different gear. This revelation was not what I'd expected. And Carrie had been right. I didn't like it. I really didn't like it.
"So, how far along are you?" He asked.
"How far along?" I asked.
"Yeah, like eh, ..." He started to say but I cut him off.
"No. I understand." I said. "Pretty far I think. They're like, dating. And sleeping together. At our place."
As I said the words my skin tingled. Saying it out loud. To a stranger. Even over the phone, felt like taking an ice bath.
"You still in your own bed?" He asked.
The image of the spare room. My bed. My closet. Came into my mind.
"No." I said quietly.
"Yeah." Said Simon slowly. "That's pretty far along."
There was a silence. The conversation abruptly seemedto have turned into a torture
"How long?" I asked. "How long, like, after that stage, did it last? For you?"
"Hey." He said gently. "It doesnt have to end the same way as it did for me. Everyones different. Your wife isn't my wife. Circustances aren't the same. Nothing is certain."
"Yeah?" I said. "Isn't it? It feels like I have no control over what will happen. It feels .. inevitable."
He grunted. "Look buddy." He said. "Dave. Like I said. I could have stopped this any time. So can you. The question is, do you want to?"
"I ... I think so." Was all I could manage.
"Yeah. So we are different."
He paused and sighed before going on.
"The first time. The first time I saw ... Well I knew. I mean, I knew, deep down ... that this wasn't going to stop."
"You ... saw?"
"Yeah. I mean, not them fucking. Not that time anyway. But, well ... do you want to hear this? How it started?"
"Yes." I said, firmly. But I wasn't sure. Not at all.
"It was July. Two years ago. I'd come home. Mike was there. That wasn't unusual. He stayed with us quite a bit after we first met. And I didn't know there was anything going on. I mean, maybe I did. Maybe I suspected. But I wasn't you-know, acknowledging it?"
"I know." I said quietly.
"And Mike was downstairs. Drinking OJ I remember. It was hot. And we chatted. And I asked where Lyra was. And he said she was still upstairs.
'Still upstairs'. That's what he said. And that was when I knew. He was telling me. In my own kitchen.
And it was like. Like being injected with a drug. Maybe? I've never taken drugs. But I think that it must feel like that.
Heck, you know what it feels like, right?"
"Right." I said, picturing the two of them in the kitchen. The sun streaming in. Mike sipping his OJ without a care in the world.
"And shortly after that, he headed off. And I hadn't said anything. And I went upstairs. And Lyra was still in bed. Clothes everywhere.
And I just fucking knew. Sorry for my French.
But there was no "I think so." Not for me. I knew straight away that this was for me."
"And what did you do?"
"Oh man. You don't want to hear that."
"I do." I insisted.
"I jerked off, okay?" He said.
"I jerked off in front of my wife. And she lay there and told me how he'd fucked her. And she laughed when I came."
"Jesus Christ." I said.
"Yeah, I blasphemed then too. Which I never used to do. And I kept right on blaspheming. That night. That same night. Mike came back. And they let me watch.
I revelled in it. The wrongness. The sinfullness of it.
I was her Uriah. She was my Bathsheba. She still is."
I took a moment to process that.
"Still is?"
"Oh yeah. We're still married. Things got a bit rocky when I lost my business and we had to sell the house. But I'm back on my feet now. More or less."
"Oh. Great. I'm glad to hear that." I said, relieved. "So it kinda worked out in the end. A happy ending?"
"Yeah. In a way." He said, than added a bitter laugh. "Of course, it woulda been better if I hadn't continued to plough money into that stupid investment. But partly, I thought, if I got out of it. then Mike would stop calling over."
It took me a moment to figure out what he was saying.
"You mean, you could have got out of it before then?"
"Sure. Heck, I coulda got out of it any time. But it became a compulsion. I'd put in more money. Mike would come over to get the papers signed. Then he'd fuck Lyra. He was like the most expensive hooker on earth."
"And then the money ran out."
"Yup."
"Oh my God."
"There you go again. It's okay. I'm not in a position to sermonise. And, I have to be fair, it wasn't like he just vanished. He kept coming over, just not as often. We still played golf, until I had to give up the membership. But we were still friends."
My mind reeled at the horror of what this guy had been through.
"The truth is, we miss him." He said. "He stopped visiting even infrequenly, a couple of months ago. Then I found out a while ago that he'd been back in Nevada twice without even calling.
I called him and he said he had a new woman in New York. I had to say I understood.
I didn't tell Lyra. She'd be devastated. She has, like boyfriends now. But nobody like Mike. None of them do her like he does. You know? I mean, of course you do. That's your wife right?"
"Yeah." I said. Still trying to process just how fucked up this guy's life had become.
"So, let me ask you." He said. "How long do you think this will last?"
Oh my God. I thought. He's still hoping Mike will come back. To her.
"I mean, I don't know." I said lamely. "There's no money to run out. I mean, I'm not ... giving him money."
"You're giving him something though, right?"
"No. Eh, I dont think so. Its not the same. I'm not watching."
"Oh? Oh right." He said, surprised and maybe a little intrigued. "That's interesting. I bet he wants you to though?"
"Yeah." I admitted. "But I want this to stop. You get that? It's not the same."
He laughed. "It's exactly the same.
Look, Dave? You mind if I call you Dave? The thing about us cuckolds. One of the things, is that we're brilliant at self-deception.
I fooled myself that it wasn't the money that kept Mike coming over. You're fooling yourself that you don't like this. I get it. But you and I know that isn't true. The truth is, that seeing your wife, the woman you love, with her legs wrapped around another guy is the most incredible thing.
You haven't watched? Bull. Shit. Maybe not in person. Not yet, But you've seen it over and over in your mind. Every day, right? Probably every hour, some days.
You'll never get out of this. And Mike? That's the one thing he knows. If you're this far in. Moved out of your own bedroom? Come on. It's the same."
"I don't think ..."
"Yes, you do. Listen, I've been in business for thirty years. People talk about sales. They talk about products. All kinds of bullshit. But the truth is that business is about finding suckers. Just the right sucker for whatever you're selling.
And we're the suckers Dave. We're the suckers. Buying up what Mike dishes out. Not our wives. I bet he found you, not her. Am I right?"
"Yeah. He did. But I showed him pictures of her."
"Of course you did. Probably the first time you ever met him. Offereing her up.
Hey, do you never wonder why he does this? I don't know your wife, what she looks like, but I bet Mike could walk into any fancy bar in New York and walk out with any available woman. Just as pretty. Heck, any woman. Married or single.
But he don't do that. No. And you know what? There are forums, bulletin boards and all sorts on the world wide web. Lots of guys. Thousands. Offering their wives to studs just like him. But he doesn't do that either, does he?"
"I don't think so."
"I know he don't." Said Simon. "He wants to find suckers. A guy who's a cuckold who doesn't know it yet. And then he shows them what they are. What their wives are. That's his thing."
Simon got it, I thought. He knew. Who better? He had no illusions. They'd all been stripped away.
I was still desperate to get somehing out of this. Mine his insight. His experience. For something that might help me.
"Do you think if I watch he'll leave? Like, there'll b no more challenge?" I asked, clinging to the hope of some useful advice.
Simon thought about that for a few seconds.
"Honestly, no. I mean I don't know. But he didn't with me and Lyra. He likes that. Hving the husband there. He wanted me to see anyway. I mean, I'm sorry, I don't have any advice there."
He paused while I reflected that this call had probably been pointless.
"But, wait, you get it why he stopped with Lyra, right? I mean, he used to be here all the time, then it really tailed off. It stopped when he found you. But even well before that he'd really lost interest."
"Because the money ran out?" I said. Wasn't that what he said?
"Not exactly. I should have said. It really wasn't that. He'd call me. I was really going through it with the business and the house. I was so down. So ashamed. And he'd take me out. Cheer me up. Tell me I'd get back on my feet. It was really great to have him. I know it sounds insane, but he really was a good friend. He stuck with me when all my country club buddies didn't want to know."
"He's like that." I said. "Teflon."
"Sure yeah. And the thing was, I'd have to ask him to come back to the house. To Lyra."
"He didn't want to?"
"Yeah, he did. I mean, Lyra, she is incredible. But it wasn't the same. She knew it. I knew it. It was just sex, you know? She could have been anybody."
"And this was after the money ran out."
"Yeah, but that wasn't it. Oh my Lord, this is hard to say. Afterwars, he was just fucking her. But before. He was fucking me."
"I ... don't understand."
"Oh you do. I think. In a way, it was the money. You have to understand just how devastating it was to lose the business. It had been my legacy from my Grandfather. And I'd destroyed it. I was so defeated. And I'd done it to myself.
We both knew. Mike and I, that the investment was going South. Fuck, Mike told me that he'd stopped putting money into it himself. But the two things were so tied up in my mind, The cucking was both."
I felt a groan inside me as it became clearer..
"And when the money was gone." I broke in, continuing for him. "When you were broke. When you were on your knees. He didn't need to sleep with her any more."
"Exactly. I mean he did. He rubbed it in. But the truth was, he didn't need to. He comiserated. Oh man, he's the world's best comiserator. He'd spell out just how bad I was fucked. The shame of it. And so, so damn sympathetically. And he kept on fucking Lyra, but there was no juice left in it any more. He had it all."
"I .. understand." I said, thinking of all the times Mike had met me in bars, buddied up with me, Put his arm around my shoulders, made supportive noises about my marriage. All while he destroyed everything I held dear.
"Yeah? I can hear it in your voice. You know how that feels."
"Is there any hope for me?" I said. I was close to sobbing. I tried to keep it out of my voice.
"It depends what you mean by hope." He said.
"I mean, any way I can stop this?"
"See a shrink?" He said. "Have you ever thought about that?"
"Of course."
"But you never have. Just like me. Listen, when I hit rock bottom I got a certain clarity."
"That it wouldn't work." I said.
"No." He insisted. "Maybe it would have. But I realised I didn't want to be cured. Really, I always knew that from the start."
"So that's it. Hit rock bottom? Accept that this is how my life is now?"
There was a long pause. Maybe he was waiting for me to state the obvious.
"No." He said slowly. "There is another option. There always has been. Was for me and it's right there for you too."
"And what's that?" I asked bitterly though I knew the answer already.
"End it. Tell her you won't put up with any more. Tell Mike to leave."
"You think that would work?"
"I'd bet anything on it. If I know Mike he only goes for happily married men. If you didn't love your wife. If your wife didn't love you, he wouldn't get anything out of it. Lyra stuck with me through everything.
And if I'd stood up to Mike at any time, he'd have backed off. I'd be astonished if it's any different with you. You sound just like me only even more so. I bet he loves watching you torture yourself.
You could stop any time. But you don't because you lovehow it feels."
I was back to where I'd started, only maybe worse.
"So just accept it. That's it?"
He laughed again. "Oh man. Listen to yourself. It's' like you're dying of thirst. I hand you a glass of water and you throw it on the ground and keep on complaining.
You want to escape? There's an open door right there."
"It's okay." I said. "It's just ... hard."
"Is it? Let me tell you. Last night I watched Lyra get felt up by a guy at a roadhouse. She took him home. They're still asleep upstairs. And when I'm done here, I'm going to go back up and see if he'll do her again.
Don't tell me it's hard to quit. It's im-fucking-possible. I love her. She loves me. We're back on our feet. And watching her take cock is just the most incredible thing.
The only thing that'd make it better is if Mike came back and took her like he used to.
But it sounds like he's still got a lot of juice to wring out of you."
I sensed now a hint of bitterness in Simon's tone, so I thanked him for his call, wished him all the best for the future and hung up.
For the rest of the day I tried my best to keep my mind on work but the image of Simon and Mike sitting down together, playing golf, going for beers, kept coming back.
On the call, what he was saying had made total sense, but now my subconscious kept chipping away at it.
Was it me? Not her? How could it be? Could bullying me really be the main thing for him?
It didn't make sense. Simon had said he knew Mike before he'd met Lyra. I was just some random name on the internet.
He'd implied that Mike has met Lyra, knew them as a couple before they'd started the affair. But Mike had made moves on Ashley as soon as he'd met her. Within hours in fact.
Or was it within minutes?
He'd taken money from Simon, or encouraged him to lose it on an investment. With me, there was nothing like that.
It was totally different.
But those images kept oming back. Meeting him. Being his friend. Being his best buddy. Sympathising and bullying. The world's best comiserator.
On the way home, I thought of Mike's story from high school. The nerdy kid he'd befriended before sleeping with his Mother.
"Please don't bully him." She'd pleaded. And in Mike's mind, he hadn't. He liked him. Wanted to be his friend. But he'd kept on fucking his Mom all the same.
It was exactly the same.
And it was just the same conclusion. Want to stop being a cuck? Just stop. Just the same advice as I'd got from Carrie.
Fuck it. It was the same advice from Mike. How many times had he told me to just say no and he'd walk away?
But that wasn't quite the same, was it? He always added an Ashley flavoured rider, didn't he? Get her to tell me to stop. How would she feel? Ashley wants this. Why can't you just admit you like it Dave? Go sit in your chair and suck your thumb Dave. Listen to your wife's moans and tell me you don't like it Dave.
Back at the apartment, I paused at the door, listening. Listening for Mike's voice. Trying to work out of I'd be disappointed or relived to hear him.
"Oh. Hi." Said the voice on the other end. It was more Southern than I'd expected. Originally Texan maybe.
"Thanks for, eh, calling." I said.
"Sure." He said casually as if it was no big thing that we were going to talk about.
For a moment I wondered what this was like for him. If it was me, like if Ashley and I broke up over Mike, would I do this? Tell some other poor schmuck, his next victim, what it was like? Probably. Yes. I thought.
"So, eh, you knew Mike?" I said. I guessed there was no point in small-talk.
He barked a laugh. "Yeah. He was my best friend for a while. Best buddy. And business partner. Drinking buddy. Golf buddy. You could say I knew him."
"And ... now?" I asked. I wasn't sure how to approach this. I wanted details, his story. Their story. But how to ask.
"Yeah. Not so much." He said. "We talk on the phone. Meet up in Vegas when he's there. We're still friends but not such close friends I suppose." He sounded almost wistful.
I gasped. "But you're .. still friends?" I asked incredunlously.
He barked another laugh. "Sure. I mean. Why not? There's no point in, bitterness? Is there?"
"Sorry." I said. "I thought. I thought he ruined your business." I hesitated. "And ... stole your wife?"
"Weeelll." He drawled. "You could put it like that. There was a time - I would have put it just like that. But you know, really, a lot of that was my fault. I invested. I knew the risks. Or I thought I did. But I was a grown man. I should have known better. Sure, Mike, helped me along but I really ruined my own business. And Lyra? Sure. He made moves on her. But you know, I could have stopped that. I could have easily stopped it. But I didn't. And she, well, she made her own decisions too. I mean, yeah Mike was involved, but there was three of us in it."
"Okay." I said, my mind crashing into a different gear. This revelation was not what I'd expected. And Carrie had been right. I didn't like it. I really didn't like it.
"So, how far along are you?" He asked.
"How far along?" I asked.
"Yeah, like eh, ..." He started to say but I cut him off.
"No. I understand." I said. "Pretty far I think. They're like, dating. And sleeping together. At our place."
As I said the words my skin tingled. Saying it out loud. To a stranger. Even over the phone, felt like taking an ice bath.
"You still in your own bed?" He asked.
The image of the spare room. My bed. My closet. Came into my mind.
"No." I said quietly.
"Yeah." Said Simon slowly. "That's pretty far along."
There was a silence. The conversation abruptly seemedto have turned into a torture
"How long?" I asked. "How long, like, after that stage, did it last? For you?"
"Hey." He said gently. "It doesnt have to end the same way as it did for me. Everyones different. Your wife isn't my wife. Circustances aren't the same. Nothing is certain."
"Yeah?" I said. "Isn't it? It feels like I have no control over what will happen. It feels .. inevitable."
He grunted. "Look buddy." He said. "Dave. Like I said. I could have stopped this any time. So can you. The question is, do you want to?"
"I ... I think so." Was all I could manage.
"Yeah. So we are different."
He paused and sighed before going on.
"The first time. The first time I saw ... Well I knew. I mean, I knew, deep down ... that this wasn't going to stop."
"You ... saw?"
"Yeah. I mean, not them fucking. Not that time anyway. But, well ... do you want to hear this? How it started?"
"Yes." I said, firmly. But I wasn't sure. Not at all.
"It was July. Two years ago. I'd come home. Mike was there. That wasn't unusual. He stayed with us quite a bit after we first met. And I didn't know there was anything going on. I mean, maybe I did. Maybe I suspected. But I wasn't you-know, acknowledging it?"
"I know." I said quietly.
"And Mike was downstairs. Drinking OJ I remember. It was hot. And we chatted. And I asked where Lyra was. And he said she was still upstairs.
'Still upstairs'. That's what he said. And that was when I knew. He was telling me. In my own kitchen.
And it was like. Like being injected with a drug. Maybe? I've never taken drugs. But I think that it must feel like that.
Heck, you know what it feels like, right?"
"Right." I said, picturing the two of them in the kitchen. The sun streaming in. Mike sipping his OJ without a care in the world.
"And shortly after that, he headed off. And I hadn't said anything. And I went upstairs. And Lyra was still in bed. Clothes everywhere.
And I just fucking knew. Sorry for my French.
But there was no "I think so." Not for me. I knew straight away that this was for me."
"And what did you do?"
"Oh man. You don't want to hear that."
"I do." I insisted.
"I jerked off, okay?" He said.
"I jerked off in front of my wife. And she lay there and told me how he'd fucked her. And she laughed when I came."
"Jesus Christ." I said.
"Yeah, I blasphemed then too. Which I never used to do. And I kept right on blaspheming. That night. That same night. Mike came back. And they let me watch.
I revelled in it. The wrongness. The sinfullness of it.
I was her Uriah. She was my Bathsheba. She still is."
I took a moment to process that.
"Still is?"
"Oh yeah. We're still married. Things got a bit rocky when I lost my business and we had to sell the house. But I'm back on my feet now. More or less."
"Oh. Great. I'm glad to hear that." I said, relieved. "So it kinda worked out in the end. A happy ending?"
"Yeah. In a way." He said, than added a bitter laugh. "Of course, it woulda been better if I hadn't continued to plough money into that stupid investment. But partly, I thought, if I got out of it. then Mike would stop calling over."
It took me a moment to figure out what he was saying.
"You mean, you could have got out of it before then?"
"Sure. Heck, I coulda got out of it any time. But it became a compulsion. I'd put in more money. Mike would come over to get the papers signed. Then he'd fuck Lyra. He was like the most expensive hooker on earth."
"And then the money ran out."
"Yup."
"Oh my God."
"There you go again. It's okay. I'm not in a position to sermonise. And, I have to be fair, it wasn't like he just vanished. He kept coming over, just not as often. We still played golf, until I had to give up the membership. But we were still friends."
My mind reeled at the horror of what this guy had been through.
"The truth is, we miss him." He said. "He stopped visiting even infrequenly, a couple of months ago. Then I found out a while ago that he'd been back in Nevada twice without even calling.
I called him and he said he had a new woman in New York. I had to say I understood.
I didn't tell Lyra. She'd be devastated. She has, like boyfriends now. But nobody like Mike. None of them do her like he does. You know? I mean, of course you do. That's your wife right?"
"Yeah." I said. Still trying to process just how fucked up this guy's life had become.
"So, let me ask you." He said. "How long do you think this will last?"
Oh my God. I thought. He's still hoping Mike will come back. To her.
"I mean, I don't know." I said lamely. "There's no money to run out. I mean, I'm not ... giving him money."
"You're giving him something though, right?"
"No. Eh, I dont think so. Its not the same. I'm not watching."
"Oh? Oh right." He said, surprised and maybe a little intrigued. "That's interesting. I bet he wants you to though?"
"Yeah." I admitted. "But I want this to stop. You get that? It's not the same."
He laughed. "It's exactly the same.
Look, Dave? You mind if I call you Dave? The thing about us cuckolds. One of the things, is that we're brilliant at self-deception.
I fooled myself that it wasn't the money that kept Mike coming over. You're fooling yourself that you don't like this. I get it. But you and I know that isn't true. The truth is, that seeing your wife, the woman you love, with her legs wrapped around another guy is the most incredible thing.
You haven't watched? Bull. Shit. Maybe not in person. Not yet, But you've seen it over and over in your mind. Every day, right? Probably every hour, some days.
You'll never get out of this. And Mike? That's the one thing he knows. If you're this far in. Moved out of your own bedroom? Come on. It's the same."
"I don't think ..."
"Yes, you do. Listen, I've been in business for thirty years. People talk about sales. They talk about products. All kinds of bullshit. But the truth is that business is about finding suckers. Just the right sucker for whatever you're selling.
And we're the suckers Dave. We're the suckers. Buying up what Mike dishes out. Not our wives. I bet he found you, not her. Am I right?"
"Yeah. He did. But I showed him pictures of her."
"Of course you did. Probably the first time you ever met him. Offereing her up.
Hey, do you never wonder why he does this? I don't know your wife, what she looks like, but I bet Mike could walk into any fancy bar in New York and walk out with any available woman. Just as pretty. Heck, any woman. Married or single.
But he don't do that. No. And you know what? There are forums, bulletin boards and all sorts on the world wide web. Lots of guys. Thousands. Offering their wives to studs just like him. But he doesn't do that either, does he?"
"I don't think so."
"I know he don't." Said Simon. "He wants to find suckers. A guy who's a cuckold who doesn't know it yet. And then he shows them what they are. What their wives are. That's his thing."
Simon got it, I thought. He knew. Who better? He had no illusions. They'd all been stripped away.
I was still desperate to get somehing out of this. Mine his insight. His experience. For something that might help me.
"Do you think if I watch he'll leave? Like, there'll b no more challenge?" I asked, clinging to the hope of some useful advice.
Simon thought about that for a few seconds.
"Honestly, no. I mean I don't know. But he didn't with me and Lyra. He likes that. Hving the husband there. He wanted me to see anyway. I mean, I'm sorry, I don't have any advice there."
He paused while I reflected that this call had probably been pointless.
"But, wait, you get it why he stopped with Lyra, right? I mean, he used to be here all the time, then it really tailed off. It stopped when he found you. But even well before that he'd really lost interest."
"Because the money ran out?" I said. Wasn't that what he said?
"Not exactly. I should have said. It really wasn't that. He'd call me. I was really going through it with the business and the house. I was so down. So ashamed. And he'd take me out. Cheer me up. Tell me I'd get back on my feet. It was really great to have him. I know it sounds insane, but he really was a good friend. He stuck with me when all my country club buddies didn't want to know."
"He's like that." I said. "Teflon."
"Sure yeah. And the thing was, I'd have to ask him to come back to the house. To Lyra."
"He didn't want to?"
"Yeah, he did. I mean, Lyra, she is incredible. But it wasn't the same. She knew it. I knew it. It was just sex, you know? She could have been anybody."
"And this was after the money ran out."
"Yeah, but that wasn't it. Oh my Lord, this is hard to say. Afterwars, he was just fucking her. But before. He was fucking me."
"I ... don't understand."
"Oh you do. I think. In a way, it was the money. You have to understand just how devastating it was to lose the business. It had been my legacy from my Grandfather. And I'd destroyed it. I was so defeated. And I'd done it to myself.
We both knew. Mike and I, that the investment was going South. Fuck, Mike told me that he'd stopped putting money into it himself. But the two things were so tied up in my mind, The cucking was both."
I felt a groan inside me as it became clearer..
"And when the money was gone." I broke in, continuing for him. "When you were broke. When you were on your knees. He didn't need to sleep with her any more."
"Exactly. I mean he did. He rubbed it in. But the truth was, he didn't need to. He comiserated. Oh man, he's the world's best comiserator. He'd spell out just how bad I was fucked. The shame of it. And so, so damn sympathetically. And he kept on fucking Lyra, but there was no juice left in it any more. He had it all."
"I .. understand." I said, thinking of all the times Mike had met me in bars, buddied up with me, Put his arm around my shoulders, made supportive noises about my marriage. All while he destroyed everything I held dear.
"Yeah? I can hear it in your voice. You know how that feels."
"Is there any hope for me?" I said. I was close to sobbing. I tried to keep it out of my voice.
"It depends what you mean by hope." He said.
"I mean, any way I can stop this?"
"See a shrink?" He said. "Have you ever thought about that?"
"Of course."
"But you never have. Just like me. Listen, when I hit rock bottom I got a certain clarity."
"That it wouldn't work." I said.
"No." He insisted. "Maybe it would have. But I realised I didn't want to be cured. Really, I always knew that from the start."
"So that's it. Hit rock bottom? Accept that this is how my life is now?"
There was a long pause. Maybe he was waiting for me to state the obvious.
"No." He said slowly. "There is another option. There always has been. Was for me and it's right there for you too."
"And what's that?" I asked bitterly though I knew the answer already.
"End it. Tell her you won't put up with any more. Tell Mike to leave."
"You think that would work?"
"I'd bet anything on it. If I know Mike he only goes for happily married men. If you didn't love your wife. If your wife didn't love you, he wouldn't get anything out of it. Lyra stuck with me through everything.
And if I'd stood up to Mike at any time, he'd have backed off. I'd be astonished if it's any different with you. You sound just like me only even more so. I bet he loves watching you torture yourself.
You could stop any time. But you don't because you lovehow it feels."
I was back to where I'd started, only maybe worse.
"So just accept it. That's it?"
He laughed again. "Oh man. Listen to yourself. It's' like you're dying of thirst. I hand you a glass of water and you throw it on the ground and keep on complaining.
You want to escape? There's an open door right there."
"It's okay." I said. "It's just ... hard."
"Is it? Let me tell you. Last night I watched Lyra get felt up by a guy at a roadhouse. She took him home. They're still asleep upstairs. And when I'm done here, I'm going to go back up and see if he'll do her again.
Don't tell me it's hard to quit. It's im-fucking-possible. I love her. She loves me. We're back on our feet. And watching her take cock is just the most incredible thing.
The only thing that'd make it better is if Mike came back and took her like he used to.
But it sounds like he's still got a lot of juice to wring out of you."
I sensed now a hint of bitterness in Simon's tone, so I thanked him for his call, wished him all the best for the future and hung up.
For the rest of the day I tried my best to keep my mind on work but the image of Simon and Mike sitting down together, playing golf, going for beers, kept coming back.
On the call, what he was saying had made total sense, but now my subconscious kept chipping away at it.
Was it me? Not her? How could it be? Could bullying me really be the main thing for him?
It didn't make sense. Simon had said he knew Mike before he'd met Lyra. I was just some random name on the internet.
He'd implied that Mike has met Lyra, knew them as a couple before they'd started the affair. But Mike had made moves on Ashley as soon as he'd met her. Within hours in fact.
Or was it within minutes?
He'd taken money from Simon, or encouraged him to lose it on an investment. With me, there was nothing like that.
It was totally different.
But those images kept oming back. Meeting him. Being his friend. Being his best buddy. Sympathising and bullying. The world's best comiserator.
On the way home, I thought of Mike's story from high school. The nerdy kid he'd befriended before sleeping with his Mother.
"Please don't bully him." She'd pleaded. And in Mike's mind, he hadn't. He liked him. Wanted to be his friend. But he'd kept on fucking his Mom all the same.
It was exactly the same.
And it was just the same conclusion. Want to stop being a cuck? Just stop. Just the same advice as I'd got from Carrie.
Fuck it. It was the same advice from Mike. How many times had he told me to just say no and he'd walk away?
But that wasn't quite the same, was it? He always added an Ashley flavoured rider, didn't he? Get her to tell me to stop. How would she feel? Ashley wants this. Why can't you just admit you like it Dave? Go sit in your chair and suck your thumb Dave. Listen to your wife's moans and tell me you don't like it Dave.
Back at the apartment, I paused at the door, listening. Listening for Mike's voice. Trying to work out of I'd be disappointed or relived to hear him.
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