by B. M. Hardin
The Wrong Husband
B.M. Hardin
All rights reserved.
Copyright©2015
David Weaver Presents
This book is a work of fiction. All persons, events, places and locales are a product of the others imagination. The story is fictitious and any thoughts of similarities are merely coincidental..
Dedication
This book is dedicated to a few special superstar readers, Kimberly Miller, Cassie Garcia, Shekie Johnson, Muriel Holloway, and Felica Turner.
Thank you all for your support and for following me on my writing journey. It is truly a blessing to have supporters like you in my corner. Thank you!
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I want to thank my Heavenly Father for my talents and my gifts and each and every story that he has placed in me.
It is an honor and a privilege to be living my dream and walking in my purpose and for that I am forever thankful.
Also to all of my family, friends, critiques, supporters, readers and everyone else, thank you for believing in me and allowing me to share my gifts with you.
Your support truly means the world to me!
B.M. Hardin
Author B.M. Hardin’s contact info:
Facebook: http://www.facbook.com/authorbm
Twitter: @BMHardin1
Instagram: @bm_hardin
Email: [email protected]
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
CHAPTER 1
One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi…
By the time that I’d gotten to fifty, Eddie grunted, released himself inside of me, and collapsed onto the bed.
Again?
You have got to be kidding me!
After glancing under the covers at my frustrated vagina, I mugged my husband and envied the stupid grin of satisfaction on his face.
Eddie mumbled good night and I responded with a groan.
He immediately started to snore, and I wondered what he would do if I just hauled off and punched him in the face.
I swear I balled up my fists and everything.
This was the second time this week that he’d gotten him, and I didn’t even half way get me.
How selfish could he be?
Hell, what woman could cum in just fifty seconds?
Tell me, how is that possible?
If there was a woman that could, I wish someone would ask her if I could borrow her coochie for the remainder of my marriage.
Tell her to help a sista’ out or something!
With his snores filling up the empty spaces of the room, I smacked my lips and forced myself to ignore the whines of the “unsatisfied woman” that lived in between my thighs, and I turned my back to my husband.
Mr. Cum Fast A lot…and I was going to call him that in the morning too!
The next morning I woke up with an attitude, but I had things to do.
Being that I had woken up late, I rushed out of the house greeting the winds of the brisk Saturday morning and sped to pick up my friend.
I was already in a bad mood and she just seemed to make it worse.
I should have never agreed to take her.
“Don’t get mad at me because you’re all married with kids, and boring these days,” Patrice laughed.
I rolled my eyes.
Patrice was my sister from another mother.
She wasn’t my biological sister; but we were as close as two butt cheeks.
Well, at least we used to be.
Here lately, she was always on the go; traveling and experiencing the world.
It seemed as though I saw less and less of her as the years went by and in a way, I envied her freedom and her ability to live life worry free and without restraints.
We’d planned to enjoy that type of life together, but I never got the chance to.
I got married instead.
“Shut up. I love my family. I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. And as for you, I’m just saying. You’re always going somewhere, or doing something. Dang, stay at home sometime.”
“Nope. I’m going to enjoy my life. You only live once as they say. I worked hard for the past fifteen years and now I’m free. And let me tell you, there is nothing like being and feeling free.”
“Yeah, I guess so. But maybe it’s time to get married and have some kids.”
“No thanks. From the looks of it, I’m never getting married. And I’ll probably never have kids either. And I’m okay with that. Marriage is for suckers. I don’t mean no harm, but married folks are some of the most miserable people that I have ever met. And you know that I’m telling the truth,” she laughed.
“Maybe some are. But you can’t say that about every married person Patrice. You definitely can’t say that about me. I’m not miserable.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
“Whatever you say girl.”
She blew me a kiss, winked her eye and got out of my car in a hurry.
She didn’t have long to get to where she was going inside of the airport in order to make her flight.
I watched her until I couldn’t see her anymore, and then I finally drove away.
I had a feeling that one day she was going to board one of those planes and never come back.
I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if she did.
Patrice’s family had money.
Her father was a movie producer and her mother had owned her own clothing line; which Patrice had taken over and started to run once her mother passed away.
After many years, Patrice finally realized that the clothing line was her mother’s dream…not hers.
Though she had taken it to the next level and it had become an even bigger success, she decided that she just didn’t want to do it anymore.
She wanted to live out her dreams instead.
So, Patrice sold the entire clothing line for big bucks and ever since then she had been doing what she loved.
But despite that, the Patrice that I’ve known for well over twenty years had always dreamed of the perfect husband and a house full of kids.
So she could pretend to not want it all she wanted to.
I knew her.
And besides, Patrice had it all wrong.
Marriage is a beautiful thing.
She wished that she had a husband and kids to go home to like I did. I don’t care how much she tried to hide it.
And she was wrong about me.
I wasn’t miserable.
I was happy.
Sometimes.
Kind of.
Most of the time.
Uh oh…
~***~
On everything that I love, today is not the day for this!
“Who in the hell is this?”
They just sat there and breathed on the other end of the phone, just like they always did.
Whoever the idiot was had been calling, repeatedly, for the past couple of days, and they were getting on my last damn nerve!
They never said a word and if they knew like I knew, they had better utilize that voice of theirs because if I ever found out who they were, I was going to try my best to kick their voice box out of their throat!
“Don’t call my phone again if you’re not going to say anything.”
Who in heck invented Private Calling?
I desperately wanted to find out who just so I could call them private and curse them the hell out!
Just as I moved the phone away from my ear, finally, the person
on the other end spoke.
They were whispering so I pressed the phone up against my left ear and placed my index finger in my right one to suppress the noise in the background.
“I love you,” they whispered.
What?
I could tell that it was a man’s voice but that was about it.
“Who is this? Eddie is that you? Why are you playing on my phone?”
I waited for a response but they didn’t say anything else.
Instead, they hung up.
I shook my head and managed to smile.
Eddie, my husband, must have been playing some kind of crazy prank.
He was the only man that would be calling me saying that he loved me, so I was sure that it was him.
I actually found it kind of cute since he hadn’t done anything silly in a long time, and since he acted like he was always so damn busy.
He was definitely not the man that he used to be.
And that wasn’t a good thing.
I turned my phone on silent, placed it in my purse and headed into work.
Another day, another dollar.
Now let’s get this day over and done with...
“We need to have some fun,” I said to Eddie later on that evening.
“We have fun all the time.”
I looked at Eddie.
What was he smoking?
We hardly ever did anything fun these days.
Sure, he made me laugh, occasionally, but that was about it. And that wasn’t exactly what I would call fun.
“No we don’t, but we should.”
“Well, plan something and I’m there,” he said.
I actually did have something in mind and I was happy that he was onboard.
“You wanna do something after dinner? What about a board game?”
“No. Not tonight. Maybe a movie.”
A movie wasn’t fun but I nodded.
I guess I shouldn’t be complaining.
At least he did want to spend some kind of quality time with me.
“Oh, Eddie, I meant to ask you this earlier. Have you been playing on my phone?”
“No. Why would I play on your phone?”
“I don’t know. Someone has been calling non-stop for the past few days and finally they whispered and said “I love you” today.”
“Let me find out you have a stalker. Is there someone I need to know about huh?”
I shook my head.
“Yeah right.”
Eddie laughed and walked away.
I was faithful, but boy was he pushing it.
And if he wasn’t the one playing on my phone then who was?
Maybe they had the wrong number or something, especially since they’d said that they loved me.
I guess I had spoken it into the atmosphere, because suddenly my phone started to ring and the word “Private” displayed across the screen.
Ugh!
I was going to have to change my damn number, or folks were going to start thinking that I had a bad case of Tourette syndrome because I every time they called I screamed and cursed them out before I would even answer it.
Leaving it ringing and unanswered on the couch, I walked away and headed to prepare dinner for my family.
~***~
“What are you looking at Polo?” I quizzed my husband’s best friend.
He appeared to be staring at me, causing me to look down at myself to make sure that everything was intact.
He started to laugh like a lunatic and poured himself another drink.
But he kept his eyes on me the whole time.
“What is it silly? What are you looking at?”
He smiled.
“You.”
That was it.
That was all that he said as he strolled away.
He was such a weirdo.
To me, Polo always seemed to have had a few screws loose.
But I seemed to be the only one that noticed it.
He was always the life of the party but in a crazy unstable kind of way, yet you couldn’t help but enjoy his company.
He was just one of those people that everyone wanted to be around, or maybe it was that he needed to be around people to keep him balanced.
Either way, there was never a dull moment with him in the room.
And I knew that after a while and after a few more drinks, he was going to contribute to making this night epic.
I shrugged my shoulders and headed back to the living room with my husband’s birthday cake.
I’d planned a surprise party for him and the turnout was better than I’d expected.
At the sight of me and the cake, everyone started to sing happy birthday and Eddie approached me with a smile on his face.
He’d just turned thirty-five but he didn’t look a day older than twenty.
When they’d said that black don’t crack…they’d meant it.
Whether talking about a man or a woman.
He was one of the sexiest black men that I’d ever seen.
Average height, brown-skinned, and he looked as though he hadn’t aged a day since the very first time that I’d laid eyes on him.
For the most part, I was proud to be his wife, and maybe even a little bit lucky.
At least from the outside looking in.
“Happy birthday babe,” I kissed him right after he blew out his candles.
“Thank you. Now cut the cake so we can get these people out of my house, and the real party can begin,” he said with a sly grin and slightly patted me on my booty.
I smiled back at him as I said a quick prayer in my head.
“Please let him last longer than two minutes this time. Or I just might have to cut him. Amen.”
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my husband.
And I mean I absolutely adored Eddie.
He was so good to me and he always had been.
But his sex horrible these days!
I had no idea as to what had happened to my freaky-spontaneous- get me right-every single night-husband, but I missed him like crazy!
Hell maybe the old him had been abducted by aliens or something.
And if that was the case, who did I have to sleep with in order for them to bring him back?
Just thinking about how everything had changed pissed me off. And if it wasn’t fixed soon, I was going to go insane.
Sex with Eddie was so boring that I’d rather be working or cleaning, or pretty much doing anything else than laying there with him on top of me for two minutes or less.
It was just a waste of my time.
Most of the time the only way that I received a decent orgasm was when it was from his mouth or from my hand.
Every blue moon his penis would get the job done but it was so rare that I couldn’t even remember the last time that I’d been satisfied from penetration.
Seriously, it was just that bad.
Sex had simply become a duty and I for one, didn’t appreciate it; especially because I knew how it could be and how it used to be.
Of course it hadn’t always been this way.
I wouldn’t have married him if it had.
We used to have some headboard banging, semi-stalking him, type of sex.
If I remembered correctly, it was around the time that he’d started his own accounting firm, that the bedroom side of things started to suffer.
At first I’d thought that it was because of me.
In the ten years that we’d been together, I must say, I’d put on a good bit of weight; especially around the hips and thighs.
But then I noticed that Eddie touched me every chance that he could, so I was sure that it wasn’t that.
From the looks of it, he liked the extra meat on my bones.
So, the only thing that I could think of was that maybe it was stress from work, or the added pressure of trying to run a company that had somehow affected his stamina or something.
Maybe it was the fact that he was always so busy, working late, or burnt out
from sixty-hour work weeks that his body only had enough fuel to make sure that he got his nut, and then it ran out of gas when it came time for me to get mine.
But Eddie started his own business three years ago and though his company was doing great these days, his sex still sucked!
And I mean it sucked in an eye-rolling, get off of me, I hope he catches a Charley-horse, sucked.
But I forced myself to fake through it.
It was the only thing that I knew to do.
I’d tried to tell him once or twice that things in the bedroom had changed but the words hadn’t come out right.
And when he did somewhat get the hint, he blamed it on me and the wetness of my pu-pu.
Eddie would say that the feeling always felt so damn good, and that it was always so wet, that sometimes he just couldn’t control himself.
But that was a bunch BS if you ask me.
I had the same pussy today as I’d had ten years ago, and sex back then between us was always good.
It had my nose so wide open that you could build a four lane highway straight through it.
But now he was lucky that I even opened my legs.
And if I wasn’t the blame, he would simply say that he was too tired to last too long or that he was getting old.
So, basically, and simply put: I was shit out of luck.
I was past sexually frustrated, yet, I never denied him of the booty; no matter how bad or how much I wanted to.
And because I loved him so much, I’d convinced myself that I just had to deal with it, until he finally figured out the problem.
But hopefully tonight would be different.
Hell, anything was possible.
I sat the cake down and reached Eddie the knife.
As he started to cut it, I made my way back to the kitchen to refill the bowl of punch.
Now, Polo was sitting on the edge of the counter, drinking himself half-way to death as usual.
“Boy if you don’t get your ass off of my counter I’m going to hurt you,” I joked with him and he hurriedly jumped down.
Polo and Eddie were as close as brothers and they were the true definition of what best friends were supposed to be.