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This is a brusque, vicious warning 750-word story that befits the attitude and anger of the MC.
Which also fits nicely into the 750-word guideline and my style of writing.
It is a very quick take on the 'honey we need to talk', 'it's just one night', 'it's only sex' trope in British English.
I may in the future also Fill-out The Damn Story FTDS. Please just enjoy this for the next couple of minutes.
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"It's just sex." Sally my wife said.
Her friend Carol was sitting next to her, giving her moral support.
She just told me again she was going out on a date with a man on Friday.
This wasn't the first time she'd brought this up. I had a plan, she would turn up, he wouldn't.
"Last time we made love, how long did it take?"
"I don't know, half-hour, maybe longer?"
"Okay let's say three quarters.
"So, if it's just sex, you leave here at 6, 1/2 hour to get there, I'll give you an hour for the 'just sex', 15 minutes for a shower and half an hour back, so I expect you back here at 8:15, 8:30 at the latest."
"We're going to dinner,"
"Ah, it's not just sex then, it's dinner as well. Where?"
"Mario's"
"The romantic Italian restaurant. It's not just sex and not just dinner then, it's a romantic dinner before 'just sex'. What time were you planning on coming home?
"Er, about 10."
"Friday or Saturday?"
She looked down.
"So not 'just sex' a romantic dinner as well as all-night making love and then breakfast after a morning wakeup call?
"Clothes, I suppose you were going to waltz out of here wearing a new dress and lingerie brought just for him?"
She looked down again.
Carol said. "No, she's changing at my place and using one of my dresses."
"Stockings I suppose?"
Both were silent.
"So again, not just sex.
"When was the last time you dressed up for me?
"You see the way I look at it is you dress up for me or your lover, we get aroused and you reap the benefits.
"So, Carol, whilst she is off with lover boy, what am I going to do? Do you fancy keeping me company and I do mean in bed."
"I'm married."
,"So am I, for now."
Looking at Sally. "Your choice, but there will be consequences."
Facing Carol, I said. "Does your husband know you're going around suggesting wives cheat on their husband? Have you cheated on Harry? Are you going to cheat on him with me?"
She had a look of thunder on her face. She stood up and walked out. I think she was going home to do some damage limitation before I phoned Harry.
Sally hadn't been careful with her phone. I'd found out who it was. Jonathan Greaves. I'd met the slimy git at work functions. He thought he was God's gift to women.
I selected my weapon carefully, cricket bat, no, too precious to waste on shit like him. A baseball bat, nope, not spending money.
I selected a piece of 2x2 from my wood store. It was too white. A dark wood stain sorted that. I even chamfered the edges on one end to make it more comfortable.
Thursday evening, I was waiting in the office car park at her work wearing dark trousers and a hoodie. I saw Jonathan and followed him to his car, he opened the boot. Good, I was hoping he didn't put his stuff inside the car. The 2x2 came into contact with the back of his head. He crumpled into the boot, unconscious or at least dazed. I pulled out my secateurs and cut off his LH ring finger and tossed it into bushes. I ripped his shirt to bind his hand, stopping the blood. Taking his keys, I drove the car into the centre of town and left it in the middle of a roundabout and walked away.
I left a letter on the seat "Do a risk assessment of what might happen when husbands find out that you plan to shag their wives. It's risky shagging married women."
I went home and slept on the sofa.
In the morning Sally came into the kitchen and sat opposite me. She looked rough.
"Sweetheart, I've not slept all night. I was wrong, I'm not doing it, I got swayed by Carol and Jonathan. I'm sorry."
"You wanted romance, did you tell me? No! Why can't you organise something romantic for us, why is it we men have to do all the romantic stuff, why should we do all the running around after you? You could phone me and say, "Honey, I'm taking you to Mario's tonight because I love you?"
"I can do that." She said through her tears.
"Too late." I slid the divorce papers to her, "The next time you won't be stupid enough to tell me."
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