His Vengeful Tradwife

12. Maverick

CHAPTER 12

Maverick

" Y ou have been behaving like a complete imbecile," my mother said.

She pointed again to the big whiteboard where the detailed explanation of why I had been a cheating bastard was. Little squiggly lines connected phrases like PATHOLOGICAL NEED FOR ATTENTION to other phrases like REGRETTABLE EXCESS OF GOOD LOOKS.

We had been at this session for hours. My head ached and my throat felt dry.

It was frankly embarrassing as fuck. Instead of supporting Tallulah with her channel and her business, my ego had gotten in the way and I had been a sucker to fall for the short-lived pleasure of Amanda’s attention.

"Read from the worksheet," my mother ordered.

"Your wife's financial success is a positive thing." I groaned aloud. "Fuck, Mother, I know this."

"Do you?" she snapped. "Then how did you delude yourself into thinking you were in love with that nasty unpleasant bitch?"

"She fed my ego," I said in despair, my head buried in my hands.

Looking back, I couldn't believe my stupidity. I had deluded myself into thinking Amanda was my soulmate because I had sneered at Tallulah's work. Her wildly successful tradwife channel meant she didn't need me anymore, and it was easier to just sneer at the ridiculousness of raising baby piglets and assume we had grown apart than it was to grapple with the blow to my ego.

Fucking embarrassing.

"It's not about milking cows ," Father said patiently. "The milking is a metaphor. It's a metaphor for Tallulah succeeding without your help, when you expected to help her succeed in art history with your money as a lawyer. That was the original plan, that was her dream when you first got together. But when she succeeded on her own at something different, you pouted. The cow's udders represent her strength, and the fresh milk represents the bounty she was able to bestow on your family."

"All right," I groaned. "I get it. This is like torture."

"I can understand satiating your penile needs elsewhere," Mother said as I cringed in my seat. "But I do not understand thinking this other woman was your soulmate. I remember when you MET Tallulah, at your fencing club. You called me the day you met her and declared you had found your soulmate and the only woman you could ever love. And then you have the absolute unmitigated gall to present this other rotten festering cabbage of a woman to me and tell me she is your soulmate. And after all that effort I went to during labor."

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth," agreed my father, shaking his head dolefully, "Is an ungrateful child. First he gives us grandchildren who we love more than anything in the world, then he announces he is abandoning their mother."

"It wasn't about my penis!" I barked. "Amanda seemed to have more time for me. Tallulah never had any time to do fencing anymore. And I asked her to! So many times. She barely ever agreed to do it. Amanda said she was willing to learn. I should have just been more patient with Tallulah."

If I expected this to get even the tiniest smidgen of sympathy, I was very much mistaken.

"Imbecile!" my mother shrieked Frenchly, and she and my father began walloping me with rolled-up copies of How To Manage Big Emotions for Men.

"You think she has time for FENCING when she has three small children? Idiot!"

"But she had time for free-ranging chickens!" I protested.

"That's her job ," Father said. "She didn't buy a dozen baby piglets for pleasure, you know."

Well, shit. When they put it that way. . .

"I have been a colossal bastard," I said dully. "It was all my fault."

My parents both nodded their heads.

"If Tallulah ever gives you a second chance you should kiss the ground she walks on every day," Father said, "and I am talking down to the molecular level, like clumps of the soil underneath your tongue. You're lucky if she doesn't choose one of those beach volleyball players to be her new husband."

My gut burned with jealousy at the reminder of the four men who had been following her around like lovesick puppies for days now.

"How is this helpful?" I retorted.

"I'm on Tallulah's side," Father said. "And if she prefers to seek the comfort of another, younger and potentially more faithful husband, I think that is both anthropologically and practically justified."

"Now," my mother said, "turn your workbook to page 632. It is entitled 'Deconstructing Masculinity: Exercises to Do When Your Wife Earns 10x Your Salary.'"

After that, my anxiety about who Tallulah might be planning to move on from me with skyrocketed. For the remaining days of the cruise, I stalked her everywhere. I wanted to make sure the kids had an awesome cruise too, so I took them on the water slides, went to mini golf, in the pool, up to the top deck for ice creams, all with an anxious eye roaming about the ship to make sure Tallulah wasn't getting too close to either Hans, Lars, Moseki, or Obonye.

But it was very hard. Tallulah was obviously by far the most desirable woman on the ship, or in the known universe, and I had to be on constant alert for any one of the volleyball players to be hanging around ready to accompany her to get a fruity cocktail drink, to the hot tub, or out dancing.

I did my best to intercept my wife, but I was haunted by the fear that I was too late.

What if Tallulah never forgave me? Even though every day I begged for her to give me another chance?

I know she still loves me! I thought desperately. Deep down, I knew it. I just needed some proof. Something to give me assurance.

One afternoon when she went to drop the kids off at a music program, I broke into her ship stateroom.

I felt like a heel going through her things, but I had to know.

I had to know if there was any hope for me.

I felt like I was going mad .

Cringing inwardly, I rifled through her things, getting bolder and more desperate as I didn't find anything.

My fingers brushed by a stack of her tiny lacy thongs, and I clutched at them convulsively, suddenly burying my face in the pile, hoping for even one tiny whiff of Tallulah's intoxicating scent.

It used to be me . Tearing these panties from her luscious curves or pulling the tiny scraps of fabric impatiently aside to press my cock into her pink pussy, always impatient and feverish for my wife. Wanting her. Wanting her to need me.

I had expected her to cry and beg me to stay when I announced my divorce. I wanted her to tell me she'd do anything to get me to stay. I wanted to feel that thrill of possessing her, knowing she was mine and couldn’t survive without me.

It hadn't worked out like that. Instead, I was the desperate one, the one begging for any scraps of her attention.

It had backfired and I was a fool.

Then finally, my trembling fingers found something. Underneath her panties her wedding ring was carefully wrapped in a scrap of cloth.

She hadn't forgotten it! She hadn't left it at home.

It must be a sign.

I turned the ring around in my fingers, wanting to vomit as I felt the words we'd had engraved onto our matching bands.

To death and beyond

Suddenly I felt my knees give way, and I sunk to the ground, tears prickling at my eyes.

To death and beyond

I had betrayed her in the worst, most unforgivable ways. How could I ever make it up?

If I was a good man, I'd let her go, allow her to find happiness elsewhere.

But I wasn't a good man

I was not letting Tallulah go, and I'd never had any intention of letting her go, even in the worst excesses of my mistakes.

Clutching the ring tighter in my hand, I attempted to stand up when I heard Tallulah behind me.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked sharply.

"Just--just looking for some hope," I croaked out.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's that in your hand?"

"Your ring," I said promptly. "I still believe in the vow, Tallulah. I still want you like that. To death and beyond. I never stopped wanting you like that."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me.

"Come here, Maverick," she said. "I have something to show you."

Well, fuck, I knew my parents were going to pick the kids up and take them to a show, so maybe this was it. Maybe Tallulah was finally going to say she forgave me, or at least was willing to give me another chance.

"Put this gag in your mouth," my wife said in a sultry voice as she crooked her little finger and beckoned me farther into her bedroom.

She was wearing a slinky yellow minidress with no bra on underneath, her nipples tight and taut against the almost see-through fabric of the dress. Her beautiful auburn hair was down and long, the waves falling over her creamy shoulders.

And she smelled absolutely divine, my mouth watering at the idea of finally getting to taste her again after so long.

She dimmed the lights, only leaving one on to shine a sort of spotlight on the bed.

Fuck, was she going to do something fucking weird and kinky to me? If so, I was here for it.

"Anything, baby," I said eagerly.

I put the cloth in my mouth and secured it eagerly behind my head.

Smiling sweetly at me, Tallulah pulled out another cloth and wrapped it around my mouth. Her soft breasts brushed by my arms as she did, and I couldn't stifle a groan around my gag.

Next came my wrists, binding them tight with silky rope as my cock hardened in my pants.

Then she began to spin me around, slow at first, then faster and faster, almost driving me mad with desire.

Finally, she stopped.

"Come and get me if you can," she whispered, her voice low and wicked, then she shoved me into the closet and locked the door.

Now what was she up to? Some kind of kinky sex closet game?

I was so fucking horny my erect cock hit the closet door before I did.

I began to hear voices in the other room and I was suddenly filled with a cold horror.

Who was out there?

I tried to free my wrists, but Tallulah had not tied them with a lover's knot. The knots were tight as fuck.

Practically ripping chunks out of my arm, I tried to work the cloth free as her bedroom began to fill with low breathy groans and worshipful murmurs.

I kicked at the closet doors, trying to burst through them.

I was locked in

"TALLULAH!" I raged, but of course the gag was tied so tightly around my mouth no sound came out.

I pressed my bloodshot eye to the crack and there she was.

On her knees in bed, the center of attention for all four of the beach volleyball players surrounding her. Moseki was kissing her, his tongue plunged into my wife's mouth. Hans was trying to peel the slinky dress off Tallulah’s lush body, elbowing Moseki aside to drag it over her heavy breasts and round hips.

When her breasts fell free from the silky dress, all four men groaned aloud, reaching forward to stroke her curves with worshipful fingers, bending down to lick and suck on her nipples so eagerly that their heads knocked together, straining against each other to press up against my wife.

"You're the hottest woman I've ever seen in my life," Lars said, stroking her hair as he captured her mouth for a kiss. "We're the luckiest goddamn men in the world."

Fuck, it was true.

I burned impotently, my knees knocking at the solid door, trying to wrench my wrists apart, my tears of rage and regret streaming down my face.

The wages of mother fucking sin.

The end result of my unforgivable betrayal.

Tallulah laughed as they stroked her breasts, two men bending down to kiss her belly, and her eyes flicked over to where she knew I was locked in the closet.

Come and get me if you can

Why the fuck were these doors so strong? I began to pound on them, but Tallulah's low, sexy voice came floating over to me.

"Turn the music up, Obonye."

And he did, turning up the throbbing, heavy beats until they drowned out my desperate pounding.

But it wasn't loud enough for me to miss hearing them begging to be the first one to go down on her, and they were so eager she collapsed in a fit of laughter to the bed underneath all of them, their hungry cocks erect and throbbing.

Lars was the lucky fucking one to end up between her legs, and he shoved the others aside and settled between her creamy thighs, slowly drawing her little thong down her silky skin with his teeth as I wrestled feverishly with the ties that bound me.

I could feel them burning my wrists, but the ropes were getting looser.

The men all groaned in unison.

" Beautiful girl "

" That's the prettiest damn pussy I've ever seen "

" Hurry up, I know I can make her come harder than you can "

Fuck!

Lars bent down between her thighs, gently spreading them wider as he worshipfully laid a trail of kisses up her leg, all the way from her tiny beautiful toes up to fucking paradise .

Fuck, every inch of her creamy glorious skin was mine by rights! And would have been mine by rights if I hadn't driven her away like this.

My head twisted feverishly as I tried to work the gag free.

She was lying on Moseki's lap as he stroked her beautiful long hair, his hands massaging her shoulders and throat, leaning forward to kiss her lips.

Hans was bending over her breasts, worshiping each one, his tongue first circling one pert little nipple and then the other.

Lars bent to her pussy and I saw her head fall back onto Moseki's lap as the other man began to lick her little clit. Her hips arched into the air with her pleasure.

Goddamn it

I knew exactly the taste, the feel of her, the way her silken heat would pump out around my face, her hand tangle in my hair.

When Lars slipped a finger inside her wet heat I thought I would have a fucking aneurysm and die in a rage on the floor, especially when I saw the lines of sweat on her chest, the way her plush lips tightened as her orgasm approached.

Then Obonye moved. Lifting her ass up gently, he raised one of her legs in the air and I saw him draw his finger through her slick pussy and begin to circle her pretty little asshole with his big finger.

Fucking hell.

My wrist binding finally gave way and I started to yank at the lock on the closet door.

Tallulah whimpered as Obonye began to press his big finger into her asshole, Lars with his face buried in her pussy, adding another finger inside, Hans licking a feverish trail across her breasts, Moseki cradling her face, their tongues tangling together.

"Yes," she moaned as Obonye buried his finger up to the knuckle. "Oh god, I'm coming!"

The men groaned in unison.

Yes, baby girl

Oh I get her next

Come on Tallulah, come on my face

I'm going to come in my pants

Finally, the lock broke and I ripped at the wood angrily.

So I was able to have a perfect view as four men brought my wife to the peak, her back arching hard from the bed, her screams muffled by another man's mouth, other fingers and hands and tongues buried in her as she groaned and shuddered for the full length of her release.

The wood scraped and tore at my skin as I burst through the door, and for a second they all froze as I snarled like a fucking feral bear and went right for the men pleasuring my wife.

"She is mine !" I roared.

My fist swung and connected with Lars' nose, knocking him away with a satisfying splash of blood. Then I heard a crack as Obonye broke one of my ribs, my foot connecting with Hans' balls.

And then everything was blood and chaos, and dimly, from a distance, over Tallulah's shrieks and the roars of the other men, I heard the ominous clink of handcuffs.

The next morning, the sunlight streamed through the tiny window of my onboard jail cell and I blinked, my back cramped from trying to sleep on the tiny bench, and my ribs aching.

As I rubbed my eyes, I heard a noise and I saw my father and Tallulah walking arm-in-arm along the hallway.

My father was brandishing some sort of lorgnette and holding a lace handkerchief over his mouth, like he was a character in the Scarlet Pimpernel and this was a filthy 18th century jail.

"Recognize this criminal?" he asked Tallulah.

My jaw felt knocked out of place where I'd been punched in the face by one or more beach volleyball players.

But what stung even more was the knowledge that if I hadn't been such a selfish jackass this would never have happened. If I hadn't let my ego get in the way of my relationship, Tallulah and I could have been happy together on this trip. And I knew I could never be happy without her.

I turned and dropped flat on my belly on the floor. Then I started to crawl over to her, pulling myself along with my elbows, digging into the ground to make my way over to Tallulah.

I kept my head down and when I got to my wife I clutched at the hem of her skirts. There were tears prickling at the corner of my eyes and I felt them leak between my tightly shut lids and onto the soft fabric.

"I've been a miserable disgusting worm, and you're looking at a broken fucking man, Tallulah."

Wrapping my arms around her ankles, I began to weep onto her shoes.

"I'm begging you flat on my belly like the worm I am to forgive me."

For several moments, she didn't speak, and I held her feet so tightly that there was going to be a permanent mark from her shoe buckles on my skin.

I prayed to every available God that she would see my miserable desperation and understand how sorry I was.

"Well, Maverick," she said. "You seem sorry, I suppose. But if you want a second chance, there are some terms and conditions. And I don't think you're going to like them."