Seatbacks and Tray Tables | Prequel to The Liberated Wife

by Danica Boutté

  Seatbacks and Tray Tables

  Prequel to

  The Liberated Wife

  By

  Danica Boutté

  Copyright © 2013 Danica Boutté

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Prequel to The Liberated Wife

  Learn more about Danica Boutté and The Liberated Wife series at:

  www.danicaboutte.com

  I walked down to our basement storage and picked a suitcase for my trip. I’d be in Miami for five days so I couldn’t take a carryon and decided on the mid-size bag. I grabbed a travel laundry bag from the basket of travel accessories on the shelf, which held luggage, and looked around at the neat, orderly basement with pride. Jim and I had installed wall-to-wall galvanized storage shelves and arranged everything according to use, labeling appropriately. Everything had a place. My tools and crafts, all of our holiday décor, the different outdoor wreaths I changed monthly, all of it had a place on the shelves. I even had an entire wall for all of my entertainment dishes, which didn’t store properly in our butler’s pantry. It took us years to do it all properly but now that it was done, it was a true Virgo’s dream storage and well, a true Virgo I certainly am.

  I took the suitcase up to our master suite and placed it on the pullout luggage rack Jim had designed into the jewelry and accessory island and started packing. The weather in Miami was supposed to be perfect for most of the time I would be there and my agenda was filled with meetings, panels and interviews so I chose flattering necklines and figure enhancing clothes. Most of the tops I picked were sleeveless with some sort of embellishment or a flow to it given I still hadn’t grown the large breasts my mother had that I begged for as a teenager. I mean, I have enough, but sometimes a girl wishes she had more you know?

  “Taylor?” Jim called as he walked into the room. “Where are you?”

  “In my closet.” I called out and looked up with a smile as he stuck his head in the doorway. He was wearing jeans and a light gray and blue striped dress shirt looking boyishly handsome as always. His hair was perfectly haphazard in the way only a $200 haircut could be.

  “Hey. Are you finished packing yet? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Not about vacation with your parents again I hope because honestly Jim.”

  He looked annoyed. “No, Taylor. I would never force my parents on you again. Ever. You’ve made yourself more than clear. I just want to go over the list of sponsors at the convention you should make a connection with and a few other things.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m almost finished.” I held up two pairs of almost identical Jimmy Choo’s. “Which pair?”

  His look of annoyance deepened. “Seriously?” And he walked out.

  “Party pooper. What do you think Winston?” I asked our dog. He opened one eye at the sound of his name and immediately closed it back. I looked at the pairs of shoes and put them both in their shoe bags adding them to the suitcase zipping it up. Then, I started choosing jewelry, laying it all out on the velvet tray on top of the island.

  It took me about twenty more minutes but I was finished packing by the looks of all the check marks on my packing list and I went to our office to place the list on my desk so I could start packing my computer bag. As a lifestyle blogger I was never far away from my MacBook Pro, my internet hotspot, my iPad, smart phone and several peripherals.

  I noticed Jim’s Fortune magazine on my desk and tossed it over to his desk where it landed on his keyboard, which illuminated the screen to his iMac. As always, some form of porn was paused. This time the woman had her back arched while being impaled by the man behind her, her skirt pulled up around her waist and her shirt missing. The man was half dressed as if the decision to fuck was instant without time to undress properly.

  One of his hands was caressing one of her voluminous breasts he’d released from her black lace bra and the other was, presumably, on her clitoris. His lips were almost on hers as her head was turned to the side seeking his mouth with what seemed to be an escaped, “Oh.” The picture was so erotic and I wondered what category he was on this time and stepped closer to his monitor. The URL confirmed the category as ‘Big Tits’ which didn’t surprise me since my husband loved big breasts. Intrigued by the frozen couple, I sat down at his desk and pressed the space button to resume the video play from time code 14:43.

  The woman’s moans were immediately silenced as he took her lips in his and then he released them, dipping his head down lower to her breast capturing the nipple between his lips and then pulling his lips back to bare his teeth as he pulled at her nipple to her moans, “Yes. Fuck me like that. Slap my big tits while you suck on them.” And he quickly popped the side of her free breast making her yelp as he released her and she fell forward on all fours with him positioned behind her not missing a beat. He kicked his leg out of his pants and lifted off one knee anchoring his foot on the bed pulling her to him in one long stroke as she gasped and I found my hand reaching for my own clitoris watching him shift into high gear.

  I found that perfect pearl with my index finger and rubbed it rapidly as he pounded in and out of her reaching around to grab her breast kneading it roughly. The dark heat spread quickly throughout my pussy as my stomach tightened and I felt moistness behind my knees as my body quickly became hot and he stopped as she pushed off him and turned to kiss him, his large, curved angrily red tipped penis sliding up her naval as she kissed him and, once again, he dipped his head to her nipple as he came, exploding all over her torso, dripping slowly down…

  And then I came in a quiet, personal explosion, fluttering my eyes closed briefly and exhaling without sound.

  Using my left hand I scrolled back to timecode 14:43, got up and replaced the magazine on the keyboard. I looked down and saw Winston watching me in the doorway. He seemed to shake his head and walked out disgustedly.

  Jim walked into the office as I headed out.

  “Why is my monitor on?” he asked.

  “I tossed that magazine on they keyboard and BAM! Jim’s porn once again.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a man watching a little porn.”

  “No.” I said pointedly. “There is nothing wrong with a LITTLE porn.”

  “Whatever. I got out a bottle of wine. Ready to talk?”

  “I have to use the bathroom first.” I said and then I walk out into our bathroom and sat on the toilet to wipe myself dry. Then I washed my hands looking at myself in the mirror taking in the high cheekbones and the dark hair which had been compared to Kate Middleton’s at the salon earlier that day as I got my grays covered. The long layers were perfect finally after growing out a horrible test drive of bangs. The signs of my aging were completely covered up well with concealer under my eyes and a bit of white eyeliner on the insides of my eyes to brighten them up. As always I fake smiled into the mirror to practice my look for pictures and interviews tomorrow. Then, I dried my hands and squirted some good smelling hand cream into my hands as I walked down to the kitchen to talk to my bad boy husband who loved porn probably more than he loved me.

  ###

  When I walked into the kitchen, Jim had poured two glasses of wine and was already sitting at the kitchen table drinking his. I picked mine up from the massive kitchen island and walked to the table sitting across from him.

  “Do you have the conference packet so we can go over what you want me to focus on?”

  “No. I don’t really want to talk about that first. I have something else we need to discuss and well, I thought it was best to do so before you went out of town so you’d h
ave time to think about it.”

  “Okay. What’s up?” I took a sip of my wine. “Mmmm…this is good. Is this from this month’s Amazon delivery?” I looked at the wine bottle and read the label. It was a 2009 Keller Estate La Cruz Pinot Noir.

  “Yes. I’m still amazed more people didn’t know they were selling wine.”

  “That’s because more people aren’t always up on the latest by way of technology and innovation as you are.” And I was telling the truth. My husband read everything and he was so smart. Coupled with being funny as hell most of the time and his boyish good looks, it was easy to se why women were drawn to him. Even women who already knew he was good and married.

  “Thanks. Listen. I’ve thought about this long and hard and I think it’s the only way to save our marriage.”

  I choked on my sip of wine and put my glass down. “Excuse me? Save our marriage? Is our marriage in trouble again? Jim…dammit, ARE YOU FUCKING AROUND ON ME AGAIN?”

  “Calm down Taylor. No. I’m not. At least, not yet.”

  “What in the hell do you mean at least not yet?”

  “I’ve met someone and I want to sleep with her and I know I’m probably going to but I’d like your permission.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I yelled as I jumped up. You want me to give you permission to cheat on me? Seriously?”

  “Will you listen to me? Please! Look…this has nothing to do with anything but sex. I have a problem and I’m not doing very well with keeping it at bay. I’ve done some research and well, I will never, ever leave you. I love you. I love us. I love our life. I love your family. I love our dog. I just want to be able to have sex with women, who mean nothing to me, without the guilt. I just want to…well, I want an open marriage Tay. That way, we’ll always have each other even as we might, you know, dabble elsewhere.”

  And that’s the last thing I heard him say before the roaring in my ears started and the tears began. I don’t really remember what was said but I know it was enough to have the dog running under a bed somewhere because I haven’t seen his ass since. Jim slept in another room as I simply couldn’t look at him another second. He’d thought it all through. Our life. Our future. He’d made all of the decisions about how it should go. Sex with just me wasn’t, and wouldn’t ever be, enough and he was leaving it up to me to give him permission to fuck other women.

  I looked at myself in the mirror again as I brushed my teeth and washed my face after my shower before I put on makeup and I saw the 40 year old woman that I was. Put on a pedestal by so many women as having the perfect home and husband and now look at me. Old, tired and used up with nothing to give to my husband to keep him from straying probably with or without my permission. I got dressed in silence focusing on keeping the tears at bay.

  I heard Jim open the door to our bedroom as I was putting the finishing touches on my hair. I walked out of the room and he was standing there with my suitcase. “Your car is here to take you to the airport. I’ll take this down.”

  I didn’t even look at him and stepped past him headed to the office to get my computer bag and a stack of business cards. I walked down the stairs and out of the opened door. Jim was standing there talking to the driver who walked around to the driver’s side to give a husband and wife some privacy to say goodbye. Normally we’d share a laugh or two, kiss and hug and then kiss again, this time on the cheek. Normally. Today was a new day. The bright sunshine was blinding as I put my sunglasses on and Jim held out a bottle of water and a bag. “Here. You didn’t come down for breakfast so I put some fruit and a few bars in a bag for you.”

  I moved past him to the car and he moved to grab the door for me. I got in and slid all the way behind the driver so I didn’t have to see him and to get as far away from Jim as possible. Jim put the bag and the water on the seat next to me leaning into the car. “I love you. I’m sorry. Please call me when you get there and have a good trip.”

  And then he closed the door and we drove off. Ten minutes into the ride we rounded a corner and the bag fell over. One of Jim’s notecards was inside and I pulled it out and opened it.

  Taylor,

  I don’t ever want to hurt you again which is why I think this would be good for us. You have my word that I will always be there for you in every way you need me as always. I don’t want anything about our life to change. I never want there to be a time when you don’t know how important our marriage is to me. I want it to be better in every way. Please think about it. If you’d like to read some testimonials to how it has helped many couples, please check out www.omarriages.com for more information. I love you.

  Your husband FOREVER - Jim

  The last time this fucker wrote me a note it was to tell me we were out of Scotch. Now I’m getting a note begging me to let him sleep with other women. Omarriages.com huh? I got your Omarriages you rat bastard.

  I thought a whole slew of other obscenities in a big, bad, bravado way as I felt my chin begin to quiver once again and the tears started falling. I was shook. My husband has basically said he’s going to cheat on me again. I almost didn’t survive the first time and now this. Life just isn’t fair at all.

  ###

  I still hadn’t collected myself by the time I reached the counter to check-in at the airport and I tried to hide behind my hair and my sunglasses.

  “Good morning. Where are you traveling to today?” the ticket agent asked me.

  “Miami.”

  “May I see your ID please?”

  I fumbled in my purse and pulled out my ID dropping my snot soaked tissue on the counter as I handed it to her. She stopped and looked at the tissue and then at me - noticing me as I noticed her. A good-looking black woman with a navy blue scrunchie in her hair. I didn’t even know they still sold scrunchies. She hesitated as she took my ID and you could tell she didn’t like touching it. Sorry lady, I thought, as she typed in my information and printed my boarding documents.

  I put my suitcase up on the scale counter and she tagged it and handed me back my ID and my documents.

  “You’re boarding at gate B-3. Thank you for flying with us.”

  “Thank you. Have a good day.” And I fumbled with my bag again to put my ID back in my wallet. I dropped the damn bag, of course, and caught her rolling her eyes as I scooped up my things hurriedly and moved in the direction of security.

  I got through security with a few looks when I had to remove my sunglasses and made my way to terminal B. I stopped and bought a bottle of water, a pack of tic-tac’s and three magazines. House Beautiful, Real Simple and Southern Living. All safe reads for me. I stood in line and paid and then went to buy a cup of coffee. The line was long as hell and I almost aborted but when I went to get out of line I stepped on the foot of the man behind me and I looked up to see his mouth form a straight line and his eyes darken dangerously.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled and then stood still so as not to bump him again. The line inched forward and I bought my coffee and walked over to the creamer. I felt the man at my elbow waiting patiently for me to finish and, for some reason, I felt my hand trembling as I stirred my coffee to the right color. He was reading something on his phone and, as I tried to sneak a peek at him he looked up without an expression and I jerked my head back down and moved out of his way to walk to my gate to find a seat.

  I was sitting down when I noticed Mr. Mean Coffee walk to the same gate and take a seat facing the television monitor. I took the opportunity to check him out and snickered to myself to note he had on very expensive loafers without socks. Jim always said only girly men didn’t wear socks with their shoes but I figured this dude was no girly man. He pulled his leg up to rest his calf on his knee and his pants puckered around his private parts. I felt myself blush thinking he must be huge and reassured myself that no one could hear my thoughts.

  He was reading something on his phone again and laughed softly to himself, his lips curling gently. He was bald with a super short cut that looked hyper masculine. His nose was perfec
t and he had a mustache and a goatee. There was a color to his skin as if he spent a lot of time outside and I got sad when I saw him lift his index finger up to his mouth while concentrating because I’ve seen Jim do that a million times in concentration. Must be a man thing. I wonder how much he did that as he thought about destroying our marriage. As he thought about destroying me. And suddenly the only thing I was noticing or thinking about was my all consuming pain that my husband couldn’t be to me what he promised he’d be and that, well…I must simply not be good enough. Shit. More of these fucking tears. I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to look like shit.

  “Passenger Taylor Ansley, please report to the ticket counter at gate B-3.”

  I thought I heard my name but that couldn’t be right. I froze and cocked my head to the side as I listened intently for the announcement to come again.

  “Passenger Taylor Ansley, please report to the ticket counter at gate B-3.”

  I got up and went over to the ticket counter surprised to find the ticket agent from earlier standing behind the counter with the gate agents.

  “Ms. Ansley, you dropped this earlier.” And she handed me Jim’s note.

  “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

  “Ms. Ansley,” the gate agent started, “we’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you to First Class for your flight.”

  “Um, well…”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything. May I have your ticket please?”

  I handed her the ticket I was clutching in my hand and dropped another snotty napkin as I passed it to her.

  “Lord, if you don’t keep your snotty tissue to yourself.” The ticket agent from earlier snapped but it was playful. Like she just wanted me to smile a little. Cheryl. I noticed her name was Cheryl on her nametag.

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough morning.”