Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 091
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: nosex

Keywords for full story:  F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc

Chapter 91
Age-old arguments


      Ellen Michaels tossed in bed for the twelfth time that evening, then
looked over at her bedmate. "Paul," she whispered, "Are you awake?"

      Paul considered gently snoring, but decided reluctantly against it.
Conversations with Ellen in bed were seldom conducive to sleep afterward -
she had a tendency to want to tear at an insoluble problem and get irritated
when the pieces didn't fall into place, which ruined sleep for both of them.
"Yeah."

      Suddenly, Ellen's voice was extremely diffident.  "You've been making
some, uh, rather broad hints lately, about - things.  I want to know what
it's all about."

      Paul rolled over and sized his wife up, "You sure you want to go into
this NOW?"

      "Well...yeah.  I can't sleep, anyway..." Ellen replied reluctantly.

      "Okay, fast and sloppy.  I work 40, 50, 60 hours a week and bring home
money to keep this place running.  But I'm not satisfied that I get enough
bang for my buck.  What do YOU do?"

      "I cook..."

      "Some.  One meal a day, average - if you don't get take-out.  Lots of
it pre-packaged stuff that costs a lot but doesn't come between you and the
TV."

      "Hey! Watch it, Buster, or..." Ellen began to bluster.

      Paul cut her off, irate.  "We'll cover THAT when we get to it!"

      Ellen blinked.  "Okay.  I clean..."

      "Some.  I have to send MY stuff to the cleaners if I want it to be
presentable for work.  And that's ME doing it!  The house USUALLY misses
being a major disaster, but if I did what I do the way you handle housework,
I'd be working at McDonalds - no one else would trust me to accomplish
anything!"

      Ellen decided not to contest things, yet.  "I take care of Terry..."

      "At this point, you get in his way, more often than not!  He handles
most of his own needs, and part of mine!  Anything else?" Paul demanded.

      Ellen blinked.  That should have been enough... "Uh..."

      "No?" Paul announced in a tone of utter scorn.  "So, you're performing
marginally at a group of tasks that I could hire a good maid for and
probably be better off."  He paused a moment, glaring, "And that's it!"

      "Hey, I'm your WIFE!" Ellen screeched.

      "And that implies that you have other duties and responsibilities,
doesn't it?" Paul went on doggedly, "But you don't know what they are, or,
if you do, you ignore them!  Let's talk about my needs.  I don't really need
much - clean clothes, an occasional meal, the ability to walk upright in my
house without falling over things.  All of this we've already identified as
things I could hire a good domestic to handle.  But we've missed a couple of
items - ones that come specifically under the purview of a wife, when
present.  Those would be - let's see - a certain amount of intimacy and
emotional support, - and sex!"

      "Oh, that old tune!" Ellen scoffed, "I should have known that THAT was
coming!"

      Paul glared.  "If it's such an old tune, why can't you play it?  For
years, you've been trying to manipulate me with sex - Hell, you manipulated
me into marriage in the first place by pretending that it was important to
you, then shut it off when you had your sinecure!  The only time you bring
it to bear is when there is big trouble afoot or you want something!  That's
just disgusting!  It's sick, and it's virtually unforgivable!"

      "What's worse is your methods!  You use 'way too much stick, and 'way
too little carrot!  The announcement that I'm not getting any has no effect
at this point because I'm not, anyway!  Think about it!  When did we last
have sex?" Paul demanded.

      "Oh, come on!" Ellen scoffed, "It was just last..."

      "Month?" Paul supplied, "Quarter?  Well?"

      "Uh, it couldn't have been THAT long," Ellen mumbled, embarrassed.

      "Funny, you could tell me the temperature and the relative humidity of
the last time I screwed up, but you can't seem to supply a date for this!"
Paul jibed sarcastically. "How does it feel to be on the short end?  The
answer is that I have gotten one half-hearted lay from you, and that's
the sum total of our sexual activity since the first of the year!" Paul
finished this at a roar.

      "Okay, so what do you want?" Ellen asked sullenly.

      "You figure it out!" Paul sneered, "I'm not going to offer to tell you
what to do - I'm just going to tell you that at this point in time, you're
infinitely replaceable, and it's up to you to fix it before I decide to
actually do so!"

      "You wouldn't!" Ellen screeched.

      "First mistake!" Paul replied coldly.  "If you believe that, you're
done already!"  He picked up his pillows and stormed out, headed for the
guest room.


      Terry lay in his bed listening to the muffled uproar.  It wasn't
unusual for his parents to fight - his mother was somewhat high-strung and
tended to rant and rave on occasion.  The odd part was that THIS time, his
father seemed to be on the top side of things, and his mother was the one
getting hammered!  Terry grinned, thinking, 'Looks like Dad finally lowered
the boom!'


      Paul had just settled into the guest room when Ellen bustled in. "I
want a divorce!" she announced belligerently.

      Paul sat up in bed and regarded her impassively.  "While I believe
that you have a good deal more to lose than to gain by it, I support your
right to go out and get one.  If you believe that the situation is
irrecoverable, I won't stand in your way.  I DO, however, recommend that you
do some serious evaluation of where that will leave you.  Obviously, custody
and child support of a seventeen year old who will be leaving for college
soon is irrelevant.  What do you plan to do for income?"

      Ellen went from under full sail to becalmed in about 2 seconds.  She'd
played her ace, expecting capitulation from Paul - and he'd shrugged and
called her bluff!  This was ugly!  "You're not upset?" she faltered.

      "Well, I'm not happy - it will disrupt our lives quite a bit - but if
you honestly don't think you can live up to your commitments, then it's the
obvious way to handle an untenable situation..."

      Ellen stamped her foot.  "Don't you love me at all?" she demanded
angrily.

      Paul remained unruffled.  "Certainly.  Why do you think things have
gone on this long?"

      "Oh!  Sure!  You bastard!" Ellen howled sarcastically, and stomped
out.

      Paul slid himself back under the covers, drawing a shaky breath.  This
exercise wasn't fun, and he really DIDN'T want to lose Ellen - but he
couldn't allow her to continue manipulating him!  If she didn't show some
sense soon, she'd pretty well make BOTH their beds for them!  Paul sighed,
and tried to compose himself for sleep.


      It took twenty minutes, but a different Ellen appeared at the door.
"Paul, are you awake?"

      Paul sighed, "Yes."  He rolled over and made eye contact.

      Ellen was diffident.  "Um, what if I just capitulate?"

      "Pardon?"

      "What if I give up?  Any time, any places, any way - you've got it!
Would that work?" she asked.

      Paul frowned.  "That solution appears to be just as extreme as
divorce, at least on first examination.  Are you sure you could deal with
that?  Certainly, it would resolve the problem from my standpoint, but
whether you could tolerate it is an open question.  There's bound to be some
extremism while I catch up and test the depths of your commitment.  Besides,
sex isn't the whole issue, here.  There is also this habit you have of
riding me roughshod!  Maybe you should think about it and make sure you can
deal with any solution you propose."

      Again, Ellen knew surprise and fear.  That Paul would hold THIS
solution at arm's length was even scarier than the way he handled the
divorce threat!  After a moment's confusion, she said, "It looks to me like
you have the solution to my bad habits already worked out... How long do I
have to come up with a peace proposal?"

      Paul shrugged.  "I won't hold you to a timetable.  A few days?  You
should be aware that I'll be holding my options open, just in case..."

      "Um.  I don't like the sound of that..." Ellen complained.

      Paul grinned like a shark.  "You're not supposed to."

      Ellen turned to leave, but stuck her head back through the door.
"Paul? Come to bed?"

      Paul regarded her warily, "That request SCREAMS trap!  This thing
isn't going to go away because you relent once!  I don't know if it's smart
- one or both of us might get the wrong idea, and only make things worse..."

      Ellen looked pensive.  "Call it a cease fire to facilitate the peace
talks?" she proposed gently.  "If anything happens, it's a freebie.  I just
don't think I'll sleep, otherwise..."

      Paul rubbed his jaw.  "Maybe you've got a point.  All right."  He
crawled out of the guest bed, hauling his pillow with him.  "If things
deteriorate, I'll go back."

      Ellen responded, "I don't even plan to think about it any more
tonight.  If I do, it'll just mess me up!  You've convinced me you're
serious, and need a serious answer - which won't come tonight.  So let's
just get some sleep."

      "Fine," Paul crawled cautiously into bed and settled in, keeping his
distance.  But Ellen was disinclined to initiate any further warfare, and
they soon were both asleep, exhausted by the emotional trauma.  Paul awoke
at a little after 3:00 a.m. to find his wife spooned tightly against him.
He smiled and faded back out.