Betsy, The Fucking Perfect Wife?

Betsy seemed like almost the perfect mate. I was 28, single, had been very successful the first three years I worked for the most prestigious law firm in Austin trying lawsuits against large multinational corporations that tried to screw average people, and was tired of the dating scene. I wanted a woman to share my life with; and kids. Everything about Betsy said she was the one.

Betsy was 22, a college graduate, and worked in pharmaceutical sales. It was not surprising that she worked in that field because she had the perfect beauty pageant contestant face and body that drug companies seem to demand for their female sales reps. She seemed sophisticated and mature beyond her years so the six year age difference was a complete non-factor.

While socially sophisticated Betsy seemed to have an almost a virginal innocence when it came to sex that was very exciting to me. While I did not delude myself into thinking that I was her first, she was thrilled by and appreciative of all of my sexual maneuvers and expertly stroked my ego; being a typical trial attorney I loved having my ego stroked.

Betsy also seemed to have similar goals to mine and expressed the desire to start a family within about a year of when we were to marry. I was also pleased that she wanted a small wedding and to tie the knot within three months of when I proposed.

There were a few strange things but they were little things, most of which did not raise any red flags.

For one she didn’t seem very close to her mother, though she was with her father whom her mother had divorced years ago. When I met them separately my reaction to them was just the opposite.

I thought that Betsy’s father, Randall, on his third wife, was way too slick – a glad-hander and ne’er do well, the type of person who always made me suspicious. I never did figure out what he did for a living. Perhaps he just leached off his third, much older but seemingly well-to-do, wife.

Betsy’s mother, Jill, on the other hand, seemed level-headed, kind and honest, and though she had never gone to college she was very intelligent. She was single and ran her own small but profitable insurance business. Although Jill looked like Betsy’s older sister rather than her mother, I was still surprised when I heard that she had Betsy when she was only seventeen so that she was then only 39, several years younger than Randall. Though Jill was single she often was with very good-looking dates but she didn’t seem to want to be tied down to any one guy in particular.

I got the feeling that Betsy’s coolness toward her mother was a result of not wanting to compete with her since although Jill’s coloring and height were different than Betsy’s (Jill’s a brunette with brown eyes while Betsy had blond hair and green eyes, and Jill was about three inches taller than Betsy) she was almost as beautiful and shapely as Betsy was even though she was more than 17 years older. Betsy always complained about Jill dressing too young for her age, but I never met any man – including my best man and groomsmen – who voiced any objection. Instead most men got wide-eyed and covered their crotches with their hands when Jill was around.

You know the old saying “Look at your fiancée’s mother to see what your fiancée will look like in twenty years.” Well if that saying is true Jill was Exhibit A for why I should marry Betsy!

A few more of the small odd things about Betsy were the fact that no one she knew from high school or college was in, or even invited to, our small wedding. Her maid of honor and two bridesmaids were people she worked with or otherwise met after college. Also Betsy seemed to make a big deal about declining offers for alcoholic beverages, and never drank. I don’t drink very much myself, and never get drunk, so that was not a negative for me except for the way she went about avoiding anything having to do with alcohol.

There was only one actual red flag before we got married. At an engagement party my father threw for us (my mother had died several years before) near the end of the evening when Betsy was in the bathroom Jill ditched her date, took me aside and asked “Are you sure you want to go through with the wedding?” a very strange question for a future mother-in-law to ask, I thought. Before I could make inquiry about it, however, Betsy had exited the bathroom, ran over to us when she saw me talking to Jill alone, and begged me to dance. Since Jill had had a few glasses of wine, though she did not in any way appear drunk, I chalked her statement up to alcohol, though I still did pursue it.

Two days after the engagement party I called Jill at work and asked her what she meant. Her voice had a tense tone when she responded. With a nervous laugh she jokingly said “Oh that was just the alcohol talking. I’m sure I was going to tease you and ask you to marry me instead or something like that.” She then told a few jokes that were actually pretty funny, and I put it out of my mind.

The small wedding and reception, all of which I paid for although Jill graciously contributed, went off almost without a hitch. Betsy looked lovely, no one voiced an objection when the minister asked if anyone knew of any reason why we could not be joined in holy matrimony, and no one got drunk at the reception. Again there were one or two minor strange things, such as Betsy interrupting Jill and I dancing the two times we tried to dance together even though Betsy danced with my father.

Betsy and I fucked up a storm during our Hawaiian honeymoon and I returned to work a very happy man. Things started to change a little within two months, though. First there was the “firing” incident.

Although my understanding, not only from Betsy but from her friends at work, was that she always got high performance ratings when she got home from work one Friday she said she had been fired. I tried to inquire about it but she said “I’m too upset to talk about it,” although she seemed nonchalant, not upset.

A few days after the “firing” when I asked her if she was going to get another job she announced, “I’m not going back to work; you make plenty of money for both of us;” true, but not necessarily relevant. When I expressed disapproval she cuddled up to me and batted her eyes while running a finger over my chest.

“Oh Colin, I was thinking that maybe I’d go off the pill and we’d start a family a little earlier than we had planned. You want to be a Dad, don’t you?” As I started to discuss the matter with her she undid my pants, sucked me rock hard in a matter of seconds with talent I didn’t know she had, pulled her panties off and with her dress and my shirt still on, and with my pants and boxers around my knees, pushed me down on the bed, mounted me, and fucked my brains out!

As we lay next to each other afterward, me almost in a trance, she murmured “Wouldn’t you like your wife not to be tired from working for a big bad pharmaceutical company and instead just trying to have your baby?” Before I could really respond she started sucking my cock again, and within minutes I was rejuvenated and fucking her doggy.

Betsy didn’t go back to work, threw her birth control pills away in front of me, and had dinner ready for me when I got home from work. Even though she wasn’t really a very good cook she seemed to try hard, and she did an excellent job of fucking me essentially every night.

After we went through about two months of this blissful stage I had an out-of-town trial. It lasted ten days, and when I returned Betsy greeted me warmly and we had great sex that night. However in the ensuing weeks she often arrived home after I did from various “art” classes or museum lectures, and was as often as not too “tired” for sex. Her explanation was that maybe she was pregnant. After about two months of this I insisted that she go see her OBGYN. She said that she had a hard time getting an appointment, but finally after three weeks got one.

The night after her doctor’s appointment I was anxious to find out what the story was. When I got home from work Betsy was there but getting ready to leave. “Colin, darling, I have a lecture I promised one of my girlfriends I would go to with, and I have to leave right away; you can fend for yourself can’t you?”

“Shit, Betsy, you can’t leave without telling me about your appointment though.”

“Oh, that. Well I’m not pregnant, but I have high blood pressure so I have to take some medication. We’ll talk more when I get back.”

My reaction – Wow she’s blasé about this.

Since I had to get up really early the next morning I was in bed by the time Betsy returned, so we didn’t get to talk until the next evening. She said she had someplace to go then too, but I told her “Cancel it!” in a harsh tone she wasn’t used to hearing from me, so she made a phone call and we sat down.

“Tell me everything about what the doctor said, Betsy. Don’t leave anything out.”

“Well it’s kind of bad news so I was trying to avoid telling you, but I guess I need to come clean.”

“What kind of bad news?”

“Well, I need to take high doses of blood pressure medication for two months and during that time I need to avoid getting pregnant otherwise I could have a dangerous pregnancy. My elevated blood pressure was apparently making me tired.”

“Oh no!” I exclaimed, holding her hands.

“Yeah; after two months I’ll be re-evaluated and after that if my blood pressure is OK I can greatly reduce the dosage and it would be safe to get pregnant. What that means is that either we have to give up sex for a while, or I need to go back on the pill and then we’d have to wait for a few months after I gave it up again, or we’d have to use a condom, or you couldn’t ejaculate in me.”

I was stunned. “What the hell?” I blurted out.

Betsy seemed to get a little misty eyed. “You see why I was trying to avoid telling you this bad news. I’m sorry, Hon.”

We had sex only once the next few days. I almost had to beg for it but I was so horny I was willing to do anything, so I agreed to use a condom. It was only mildly satisfying for me. Although she didn’t get an orgasm from the condom fuck, I did eat Betsy out and brought her to two orgasms orally.

As I was feeling sorry for myself in my new situation the next day I was hit by something else. “Colin, honey, I think I should go to a Spa in Dallas the next few days. The doctor said that the types of treatments they give there should help a lot and maybe ensure a good checkup the next time I go to the doctor.”

“Would you have to stay overnight?”

“Of course, honey, to get the full treatment.”

“Shit,” I said to myself, “but anything to get properly back in the saddle,” so I agreed.

My mind was in turmoil the entire first day Betsy was gone. When I got home from work I was rummaging through some drawers I don’t normally look in for something-or-other when I came across a blister pack of pills. “Strange,” I thought, so I looked at them carefully. I was shocked!

The pills were for Betsy. They were once-a-week birth control pills. They had the dates they should be taken over each pill in the blister pack. The pills for two days ago and the last four weeks before then were gone. The pills continued for eight weeks more.

My mind was no longer in turmoil. It was in full blown meltdown!

I poured myself a bourbon – something I never drink – and sat down on a couch. For some reason what flashed into my mind was what Jill had said to me at the engagement party my father threw and what I thought might be a phony explanation when I talked to her on the phone afterward. I had seen Jill almost once a week since Betsy and I got married not only because she was my mother-in-law but also because I used her for all of our personal insurance needs, and recommended her to a number of attorneys and employees in my law firm. We would usually have lunch together when she came to the office to talk to others there about insurance, and had become good friends.

I picked up the phone. “Hi Jill, Colin.”

“Hi Colin, nice to hear from you; but shouldn’t you and Betsy be out on the town on this nice Friday night?”

“How come you’re not out?”

“Ha, I’m between boyfriends. I can’t seem to find one I want to stick with; I had to get rid of Brian earlier this week.”

“Ha, ha. What problems you have, Jill; I guess when you have the infinite universe of potential partners that someone as awesome as you has it’s difficult to make up your mind.”

“Why Colin, how sweet; but did you call just to flatter me.”

“No, actually Jill I need to talk to you. Can I come over?”

“Alone?”

“Yes, Betsy is in Dallas.”

“Oh,” she sighed. After a pregnant pause she continued, “All right. How about in twenty minutes.”

“See you then.”

When I got to Jill’s house she greeted me warmly with a big hug, but I could tell by her facial expressions she knew basically what this was about, and that it was going to be difficult. She poured us each a glass of red wine as we made a little small talk and both essentially chugged it. After she poured another glass I got right to the point.

“Jill, I don’t want to waste your time. Let me get right to why I’m here. At the engagement party my father threw you asked me if I was sure I wanted to get married, and I didn’t quite buy the explanation you gave me afterward. What did you really mean?”

Jill got an anguished look on her face. “Oh, Colin, I’m not sure I really remember it; it must have been the alcohol. I must have been drunk.”

“You weren’t drunk, Jill. Tell me, why did you really say that?”

“Colin, you can’t ask me to say things against my only child even if we don’t have the best relationship.”

“That’s another thing, why don’t you two have a good relationship? You seem to be very easy to get along with, but I wonder if Betsy is jealous of you?”

“Colin, how could you think that?” she laughed. “Betsy is a beautiful young woman. Maybe the most attractive woman I know.”

Jill blushed as she said this, and unconsciously squirmed in her seat. While she was not dressed provocatively, her wonderful female features were plainly evident, and when she squirmed her legs parted providing me with a perfect view of her absolutely killer thighs and even a camel toe!

“Except for her mother,” I shot back, probably without thinking, causing Jill to blush more. I persisted, “So why don’t you have a good relationship?”

“Colin, this is awkward for me.”

“All right, let me make it easier,” I said. With that I explained the now very suspicious “firing,” the decreased sexual activity, the promise to go off the pill yet finding she hadn’t (I actually showed Jill the blister pack), the alleged high blood pressure, her trip to the Spa, beer bottles in the recycling containers, and many other small things that were now evident and bothering me.

Jill went from blushing to losing the color in her face. “I’m so sorry, Colin. I should have given you more information, but I didn’t want you or Betsy to think that I was trying to steal you from Betsy,” she whispered as she looked down.

“Steal me?” I involuntarily blurted out. This was the first time it occurred to me that Jill could have any romantic interest in me. I was as flattered as I ever can remember being in my life.

“Silly, huh, that I could think that someone as sweet, intelligent and cultured as you could possibly be interested in someone eleven years older than you are.”

I was speechless, something that doesn’t often happen to a trial attorney. As I was desperately trying to gather my thoughts and to tell her in just the right way that she was someone any man of any age would be interested in she came out with the cold hard facts.

“I hate to say this and I hoped against hope that Betsy would change, but apparently she hasn’t. After she saw me talking to you alone she came to see me the very next day, promised me that she had changed and would be the perfect wife for you, and begged me not to destroy her best chance at happiness.”

“Changed from what?” I asked.

“Betsy is a pathological liar. She had a juvenile record, including for stealing my credit cards on two separate occasions, had a real alcohol problem, and is also a tramp. She lied about graduating from college to get her sales job; she flunked out after two years. Did you wonder why you’ve never met anyone she knew from high school or college? It was because if it was a girl she might have let on what a complete drunk, slut and floozy Betsy was, and if it was a guy he undoubtedly would have been someone who had fucked her and who she would fuck again.”

My worst fears had materialized. Now I’m sure there was no color in my face. After what Jill said next I was ready to throw up too.

“Colin I’m sure she’s not in Dallas. I’m sure she’s getting gangbanged by a bunch of low class ‘bad boy’ assholes of the type she always has been attracted to. I can’t believe she could blow it with a perfect husband like you but that’s apparently what she’s doing.”

After sitting in silence for several minutes, concentrating on stifling my desire to puke, as all the while as Jill was looking on me with a combination of concern and angst, I finally spoke. “I have to be sure, Jill before I confront her, and I don’t know how I will be sure.”

“I’m probably getting way too involved in this, Colin, but – well, there is someone I know who probably can help you. He owes me a favor. Does Betsy have her cell phone with her?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow morning; try and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay,” I replied in a defeated tone. With that we got up, Jill walked me to the door, she gave me a big hug with tears in her eyes, and whispered in my ear “Everything will be all right.”

I hardly slept at all, but was ready when Jill arrived the next morning. Jill’s friend could help. I never quite figured out who he was or what he did for a living, or whether what he did for me was legal, but he tracked Betsy’s cell phone to an address in the Austin area, not Dallas. Jill drove me there.

The address where Betsy’s cell phone should be was a townhouse in her old high school neighborhood. There were dozens of empty beer bottles outside it, and her car was parked on the street no more than fifty feet from the entrance. Within a few minutes I determined by accessing the real estate records using my Android that it was owned by someone who Jill identified as an “old fuck buddy” of hers from high school.

The All-Conference linebacker mentality that I had in college foamed to the surface. With my fists clenched and gritting my teeth I stormed out of the car intent on killing any males I found inside the townhouse, but Jill jumped out of the car, threw her body in front of me, and begged me not to ruin my life over this. “Please, Colin, it’s not worth it.” Talking to me in a soothing voice with her hands on my chest, within a couple of minutes Jill had calmed me down, and we returned to the car.

When Jill dropped me back at home she could tell I was deflated.

“I’m worried about you Colin; are you OK?”

“Jill, thank you. I know how hard this has been for you. I’m depressed now, but within hours I will be starting to crystalize my thoughts. Between being a trial attorney and a former college linebacker you can sure that my plan will be complete and decisive.”

“Will you please go as easy on Betsy as you can bring it in your heart to do?” she asked squeezing my hand.

When I looked at her a tear was forming in her eye. I smiled the best I was able to, surprised her with a quick kiss on the lips, said “I will,” and exited the car.

Fortunately the house Betsy and I lived in was a month-to-month rental, my car was only in my name, and most of my money was tied up in the law firm. That, combined with the fact that I determined that Betsy has actually “stolen” community property by removing it from a joint brokerage account we had and squirrelling it away in an offshore account, gave me the upper hand. She knew that I could have had her arrested, the extent my advocacy skills and linebacker mentality when screwed with, and that the top divorce attorney in Austin worked in my firm and was representing me pro bono. That was too much for her to compete with so the negotiations for dividing property pending the divorce went smoothly. I was more compassionate than the law required me to be not just to fulfill my promise to Jill but also because I wanted things over as quickly as possible. The divorce was final within three months.

After I confronted Betsy with her duplicity she never made any genuine attempt to talk me out of a divorce, leading me to believe she likely never really loved me but just looked on me as a sap and meal ticket. Given the feelings I had at that time I had to admit maybe I had not loved Betsy completely either, but I didn’t regret having met her.

By phone I kept Jill informed during the divorce proceedings what was going on, including how I was fulfilling my promise to be as easy on Betsy as I could bring myself to be. We also talked about many other things. The first thing I did after I walked out of the courthouse on the sunny Friday morning when the divorce was final was to call Jill. She was at work.

“Jill, I was hoping you would have dinner with me tonight to celebrate.”

“Are you sure you want your former mother-in-law to be the person you celebrate your divorce with?”

“I’m more than sure. I’ll be devastated if you won’t.”

After a long pause, just as I was about to say “Are you there?” Jill responded. “What time will you pick me up?”

I may have had the best time of my life that night. Jill looked as sexy as I had ever seen her – it was likely because she had an expectant glow about her, in addition to her slinky major cleavage dress, with the slit on one side up to her thong. After we ate dinner we went to a dance club with three halls playing three different types of music. We danced the Texas two-step and a few other country dances in the first hall, the cha-cha and other Latin dances in the second, and ballroom dancing in the third.

We didn’t last long in the third hall. By the third slow dance we were hanging all over each other. As I pulled Jill close I put my hand under her chin, moved it up so that she was looking me in the eye, and said “Ever since I went over to your house to talk with you about Betsy I’ve wanted to fuck you. Tonight I’m going to fuck you comatose.”

“Think so?” was her only response as she pushed her lips against mine and stuck her tongue in my mouth. We were in my car on the way to her house within three minutes.

As we drove to Jill’s house she rested her head on my shoulder and held onto my arm. Halfway there she stuck her tongue in my ear and then said “Now that I have your attention, I have some bad news. I’m a long way from menopause and I’m not on birth control so I’m afraid you’re going to have to fuck me with a condom.”

I was slightly shaken but didn’t let on. Instead I matter-of-factly replied. “Well I have some bad news for you too. I’ve decided I’m not going to fuck you after all; I’m going to make love to you. And I won’t be using a condom.”

I glanced at her face as best I could without running the car off the road in an attempt to read her expression. With a coy smile her response was “Well what if I get pregnant?”

“Then I guess I’d have to marry you and suffer only fucking you the rest of my life.”

“You don’t even know if you’ll like fucking me, or making love to me,” she responded with an even coyer smile.

“I got a feeling it will be bearable,” I smiled back, getting me another tongue in my ear.

When we got into Jill’s house we were like a couple of sex-crazed Gypsies. Articles of clothing, some ripped some still intact, were strewn from the front door to her bedroom. By the time I threw her on her bed we were both naked. I immediately dove between her legs and with alacrity licked and fingered her shaved pussy. I simultaneously sucked her clit and abused her G-spot through two orgasms before I went back on my declaration to her and fucked her instead of making love to her.

When I buried my rock hard cock in her soaking wet cunt she wrapped her legs around me. As I pounded away I simultaneously sucked one of her turgid engorged nipples while she wrapped her arms around my neck and nibbled on my ear. As I moved my cock almost completely out of and then enthusiastically into her vise-like pussy I was certain that I felt better than at any other time prior to that in my entire life. When we had simultaneous earth-shattering orgasms endorphins swept through my body like a raging river almost giving me an out-of-body experience as I rocketed blast after blast into her, and she contracted and released her vaginal muscles sucking every last drop of cum out of me.

I’m sure that we both became comatose even though I remained inside her and she continued to have all of her limbs wrapped around me. We must have separated when we fell asleep, but we both happily woke up in the wee hours of the morning, and after going to the bathroom returned to her bed with enormous smiles on our faces. After we sixty-nined ourselves ready for more copulation we sat up and faced each other.

“I’m sorry I fucked you instead of making love to you,” I grinned.

“I might be able to forgive you – assuming that I don’t get pregnant, and assuming that you do make love to me, that is,” she chortled back.

With that I lifted her up, scooted to the edge of the mattress, and while sitting up pulled her slowly toward me with her legs on either side of my torso until I was balls deep in her cunt. We embraced and kissed deeply as we slowly rocked back and forth. I was in heaven for what had to be twenty minutes before feelings started welling up inside of both of us, we broke our kiss, both pumped hard ten or fifteen times, and we collapsed in another mutual over-the-top orgasm.

When we finally got out of bed Saturday I took a good look at Jill’s naked body in the morning light. She was a goddess. I didn’t say anything comparing her to Betsy but I couldn’t help notice that her body was even better than Betsy’s. Her thighs were world class, she had the tightest pussy I had ever experienced, her stomach was toned, and her tits were large and firm with the most beautiful puffy nipples one could imagine. Even the few age lines on her face couldn’t prevent her from being the most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes upon.

I moved into Jill’s house that weekend. I would say that we fucked like minks every day for two months except that half the time we were making love rather than fucking. Jill was a lover beyond compare.

Jill missed her very first period after we started having sex. Given our relationship neither one of us expressed any concern. In fact when Jill informed me of that we both giggled, then I bent her over a padded armchair ignoring her fake screams, pulled down her panties, fingered her into submission, and then proceeded to fuck her to yet another phenomenal orgasm.

We were pretty sure Jill was pregnant when she got what was likely morning sickness. Together we went to the OBGYN to confirm it, went and got a marriage license the same day that it was confirmed, and got married in a simple civil ceremony as soon after that as we could. We didn’t invite Betsy.

Once Jill’s morning sickness abated her already high sex drive increased. While we were careful what positions we fucked in, we enjoyed sex even more – if possible – during her second and third trimesters than we had before.

After our second child Jill had her tubes tied; our little girl is now 13 months and our little boy 3 years old. I can’t possibly imagine being happier than I am, and when Jill and I cuddle in bed together every night I know that she feels the same way.