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From: DrSpin      <drspin@newsguy.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Six Letter Word  (MF/MF swap)
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Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 23:10:00 -0500
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'The Six Letter Word' (MF/MF swap)
by DrSpin
(drspin@newsguy.com)
30 December 1999 

* more thanks to dw

================================================================================
DrSpin's Standard Disclaimer:
I write and you read, if you care to. That's all there is to it. If any reader
is offended, and I would be surprised to hear it, he/she should not have been
here in the first place and only has himself/herself to blame. If this story is
relocated, please leave my name intact as the author and please include my email
address.
================================================================================

Some people are so competitive they forget to think straight. Sure, we're all
competitive to a point. But some people won't give up agreeably or give in
graciously, and you recognise them not so much by what challenge they will take
on but what challenge they won't. You see, arch competitors will not compete in
events in which they think they may be inferior. But give them an opportunity to
try the mettle at something they fancy, then settle back and watch the sparks
fly.

I was married to an arch competitor. She was forever challenging me in her best
fields of endeavor and sticking it to me good, hard and proper. Man, she loved
to win. Any form of cards, any form of board game, any sort of quiz or puzzle,
she'd play me any time and make herself blissfully happy by beating me, which
she did almost all of the time because she was not only very good at it but she
tried so hard I got exhausted watching her. But could I get her out on a golf
course to square the ledger? No damn way. Not that, not tennis, not anything
with a ball and a stick. She professed vast contempt for such activities but I
knew better. If she had any real talent she would have been out there at the
crack of dawn every day.

Robyn kicked my butt on a regular basis. There was an upside to it because it
could make her hotter than a rapid-fire pistol. The downside was when she
occasionally lost, because she wouldn't speak a civil word to me for hours.
Sometimes days, if it was a serious defeat. Easy, you might say. I should have
just let her win all the time. Unfortunately it was not that simple. She became
really angry if I threw the game or did not try hard enough. You couldn't fake
it because she was too competitive and too smart.

This, thus and then, is a story of heroic theme. The problem about being a fast
gunfighter is that you're only as fast as your last gunfight. Sooner or later
somebody faster will appear the end of the street. Billy the Kid went down.
Napoleon came to Waterloo. Rommel retreated at El Alamein. And Robyn fell to
earth on a Deluxe Scrabble board, beaten at the death by a six-letter word.
Fittingly, the word was 'hazard'.

Martin was clever but lazy with it because of his arrogance. We played Scrabble
after dinner at his place, the four of us, with Shona and I just making up the
numbers. Martin flirted with the lead a few times and looked occasionally
threatening with elegant words and neat tricks. Robyn's concentration never
deviated and, expectedly, she won.

"Play again," said Martin to Robyn. "This time, just you and me. You won't be
able to follow your husband's easy leads."

Unfair. Maybe. Or was I unconsciously letting Robyn win? She welcomed the
challenge.

"I'll beat you more easily," she said with a tight grin. "Face it, you're just
not up to it." Right up her alley, this.

"Let's make it a real contest," countered Martin. He pointed out the open
concertina doors. "If I win you have to execute five dives from the board into
the swimming pool. Stark naked."

I moved to intervene. "Now listen here," I said.

Robyn waved her hand at me impatiently. Her blood was up, the fire was in her
eyes and she never ever contemplated losing. "Well, sure," she said. "On the
condition that if I win, you have to drop your trousers and masturbate in front
of us."

"It's a deal," he responded immediately. He grinned at her aggressively.
"Starting to get nervous, Robyn?"

"You'll be nervous when you have to drop your trousers," she retorted.

"We'll see, my dear," he replied patronisingly, and I'm sure he knew how much it
would irritate her. "We will see how well you play under pressure."

I looked at Shona and raised my eyebrows. She shrugged at me helplessly. Maybe
she had similar problems with her spouse. Nevertheless I tried again. "Isn't
this going a bit over the top?" I asked them. "For God's sake it's just a board
game." They both looked at me scornfully and turned back to set it up.

Robyn led from the front and piled on the points relentlessly. You could see
Martin was a clever player but he could not quite catch up. The end was nigh. He
had six tiles and she just one, and he was 66 points behind. Poker-faced, he
laid down the tiles and spelled out the word. Hazard. 64 points. "I believe," he
said calmly, "you have an unused H, which means a negative four points to your
score."

Robyn was ashen-faced. Never at any stage had she imagined she would lose. Now
she had her triumph snatched away in an instant. "Shit," she said with rich
feeling, and she rarely swore. She looked at me, then at Shona and finally at
Martin. "Best two out of three?" she offered tremulously.

He laughed. "It's over and you know it. Would you give me a second chance?" Of
course she wouldn't. We all knew that. He gestured towards the pool. "I suggest
we adjourn outside for the evening's entertainment."

Again I intervened. "She doesn't have to do this," I told Martin. "It's just a
stupid bet on a stupid game. Who cares?"

"It's no use, old chap," he said cheerfully, clapping me lightly on the
shoulder. "She knows she has to pay up. That's what playing is all about."

Robyn looked at me sorrowfully for a moment, picked herself upright with an
effort and headed towards the pool. We followed her outside and Martin flicked
on the pool lights. She walked next to the diving board, hesitated for a moment,
and started to disrobe. She was in semi-darkness but I could see plainly she was
naked as she pushed aside her bundle of clothing with a foot. She stepped up to
the diving board and carefully walked its length, emerging into the throw of the
lights.

My wife was no exceptional beauty. She had a strong face rather than a pretty
one and she was a little on the short side, but she had a fairly good figure and
she was fit. We had no children yet and at 28 she looked young and strong. Her
average-sized breasts stood out in profile and her wiry pubic hair was shaded in
the valley of her thighs.

She didn't look at us standing grouped at the side of the pool. Instead she
looked ahead and down at the water. She gathered herself, jumped lightly on the
board and threw herself forward less than elegantly into the pool. She swam to
the edge directly below us and looked up at Martin defiantly. "That's one," she
said. She hauled herself out, water streaming from her body and marched off to
do it again.

Resolutely she completed the assignment. I had to admire her attitude. She'd
lost and she was paying the price, and she did so without cringing or
complaining. Shona brought her a towel and she dried off and dressed in front of
us. We had polite coffee and went home. I attempted to sit her down and talk to
her, thinking it was an ideal time to suggest constructively she was allowing
her competitive nature to get the better of her judgement. She brushed me aside.
"Let's get to bed," she said, and she meant it. She was extremely demanding. As
usual she wanted oral stimulation and she was so urgent about it she started
pushing my head towards the appropriate place as I was still climbing into bed.
She came almost savagely. That night Robyn was as hot as I'd ever known her.

Two nights later I came home from work to find Robyn busy in the kitchen.
"Martin and Shona are coming over for dinner," she explained. I closed one eye
and looked at her suspiciously. She smiled thinly. "I want my revenge," she
said. "He's agreed to play whist."

Whist. It was her very favourite card game. She was a tiger at it. I opened my
mouth to be cautionary but closed it again. She had that look in her eye and she
would not be deterred.

Shona was starting to establish a form of communication with me. As she came
through the door she rolled her eyes at me apologetically. I nodded quietly,
indicating my understanding. We were bystanders watching two bulldozers
colliding. I'd always liked Shona. She was so unpretentious, so simply nice. She
was a stay-at-home housewife, I guessed at Martin's insistence. She was the best
cook I'd ever met and she had a soft and generous outlook on life which broadly
matched her appearance. Shona was an all-woman woman. She had a big and broad
bottom but to balance it she had big and broad tits.

After dinner the two protagonists set up for the whist battle. Martin wanted to
know about the stakes. "I'm glad you asked," said Robyn with a flinty look in
her eyes. "When you lose you will be required to perform as a male stripper at a
shower tea I'm hosting next week for a friend who's getting married." She smiled
triumphantly. "About 20 girls will be there. Should be fun."

Martin appeared unfazed. "What if I win? What shall I require of you?"

She waved her hand at him carelessly. "Put up what you like," she said
confidently. "I don't care because this is one bet I definitely will not lose."

"Whatever I like?"

"Whatever."

"Okay. How about this? If I win you have to spend this weekend with me at my
total and absolute command."

She hesitated for only a second. "Sure," she said. "No problem." She turned her
head to glance at me and Shona sitting together on the couch. "It won't happen,"
she said to both of us.

But it did happen. It wasn't even close. He kicked her backside. When she lost
she said nothing but rose from the table and walked outside the house into the
darkness of the garden. "A bet's a bet," Martin said to me. "She's going to have
to pay up. But I have no quarrel with you and to show it, I'll have Shona come
over here and spend the weekend with you. Right?"

I heard Shona's sharp intake of breath beside me. But she said nothing. Martin
stood up and grabbed his coat. "Come on," he said to his wife. "It's better if
we go now." He looked back at me as he went out the door. "Tell Robyn I'll be in
touch."

"You can't do this," I said to Robyn when she came in through the kitchen.

"Don't be stupid all your life," she lashed at me angrily. "I have no choice."
And she refused to discuss it further. I cleaned up while she sat in the dark
living room. I left her there and went to bed. Later she prodded me awake and
groggily I buried my head under her nightgown and gave her what she wanted.

On Friday evening she waited with a small carry bag. She still wouldn't discuss
it. In fact she ignored me altogether. I opened the door to the ring and it was
Shona, also carrying a small case. She looked at me apprehensively with wide
blue eyes. Robyn brushed past both of us without a word and headed down the path
to Martin's car. She got in without a look back and they drove away.

"Well," I said to Shona. "Peace at last."

She looked at me curiously. "I ought to be horrified about this strange turn of
events," she said.

"Don't be horrified. Be hungry. Do you like Thai food?"

"Love it."

"Then set down that case. We're going straight out."

I took her to my favourite restaurant and, true to her word, she loved it. Robyn
disliked Asian-style cooking. We chatted and gossiped about everything but our
spouses. The night lengthened, however, and we would soon have to leave. "We'd
better discuss arrangements," I said hesitantly. "Nobody seems to have given us
a second thought in all this. Shona, I have to tell you I place no obligation on
you. I expect nothing except your company, and so far it has been excellent."

"Thank you," she said. "I've always liked you, Jim. I think you're just about
the nicest man on two legs. You're right. Nobody seems to care about us. So I
figure, what the hell? Let's go for it."

"Then it's off home and thence to bed?"

She lifted her glass at me. "Why not? Might be interesting."

It was much more interesting than just interesting. Shona, with her big soft
breasts and her broad hips, was a definite physical presence. Automatically I
went down on her straight away. After years with Robyn I did it without a
thought. She clutched her hands in the hair of my head. "God in heaven," she
cried excitedly. She nearly broke my nose with her writhing and twisting and she
crashed into a loud and fevered orgasm.

"I do so love that," she said with her head on my chest. "It's been years since
anybody did it to me." She lifted her head and looked me in the eye. "Now, I
think I've recovered enough to return the pleasure." She grasped my stiff cock,
licked at it speculatively with her pink tongue and then slid it into her mouth.
God in heaven indeed. Robyn hadn't done that for the longest time, and only then
with a reluctance so stonily obvious you could build a garden wall with it.

Shona and I shared a night of sex. Spelled s-e-x. She was warm and tender and
accommodating. And appreciative of my attentions. We also talked and joked and
laughed. It was good unclean fun. In the morning I woke and she wasn't beside
me. I searched and found her in the kitchen cooking what looked like a hearty
breakfast. "Best meal of the day," she said.

I never ate breakfast. Never had time during the week and during the weekend
Robyn liked to sleep in after a busy week herself. Breakfast never happened.
With Shona it did. Three courses of it with coffee and I ate it all up with
enthusiasm. We sat at the table looking at each other.

"You're wonderful," I said to her simply and frankly. It was precisely what I
was thinking.

"You're not bad yourself," she said.

"I have to know more about you," I said. "I want to hear everything about you
from the moment you were born."

"I talk better when I'm being cuddled," she said. "You want to go back to bed?"

I smiled a big smile of contentment. "Didn't I say you were wonderful?"   

Funny. I'd never actually laughed before during sexual intercourse. Once I did
so, however, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. She was giggling
herself. "Why are you laughing?" she asked. "You've got me going too."

"No fucking idea," I said. "Just happy, I guess."

I couldn't remember a better weekend. We went to the movies, something neither
of us had done in years, and held hands in the dark. We went sailing on the
river on Sunday morning in a friend's 12-footer. We ate and drank frequently
with freedom and enjoyment and we fucked ourselves to a standstill. But Sunday
night approached.

"Thank you," I said. She lay beside me. It was our final session and we knew it.
"It's been a wonderful weekend."

"Yes," she said simply.
 
The phone rang and I picked it up. It was Robyn. "I won't be coming home
tonight," she said tersely. "Can't explain now. Martin says to tell Shona to
stay until further notice." I opened my mouth to say something but she'd already
rung off.

"Well," I said to Shona. "Here's a turnup. Martin wants you to stay a bit
longer."

She rolled across and kissed me sloppily. "Great," she said fiercely. "I was
dreading going back."

A reprieve. The pace could slow. Time to talk. Time for truth, and it tumbled
out. She didn't care too much about Martin. I hadn't missed Robyn for a moment.
We were, we decided, much nicer people than they were. "Fine," I said, "but can
we do it?"

"I love you, Jim Price," she said.

"And I love you, Shona Wilson."

We burst out laughing. Do it? Of course we could.

Next day I rang Martin and told him I had to see him. We agreed to meet at his
house soon after midday. I didn't beat around the bush. "There's been a dramatic
turn of events," I said. "We need to talk urgently."

"I'll show you dramatic," he said. "Come with me." He took me by the elbow.
"You'll be amazed."

He knocked on a door. "Hi Robyn," he said loudly. "I've brought a nice man to
see you."

I heard my wife's voice shouting angrily behind it. "Martin, you rotten bastard.
Will this never end?"

He opened the door. Robyn was flat on her back on a bed, naked and spread wide,
with her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. She saw me standing in the
doorway. "Oh shit," she said savagely. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Gee, that's not a very nice welcome for your dearly beloved," Martin said
mildly. He turned to me. "It's certainly been interesting. I mean, she's such a
total player. Do you know, she's fucked four complete strangers this morning?
Well, friends of mine - but she'd never met them before today."

I bent forward and looked closely. I could see the evidence. "Martin," she said
bitterly. "You are such an evil cunt." She spat out the last word. I'd never
before heard her use it. I turned and left the room.

I was standing out by the pool when he caught up with me. "Sorry about that," he
said, but I could see in his eyes that he was not. "It's been a fair old battle.
Sometimes she wins but mostly she loses."

"I'm afraid I don't give much of a hell of a damn," I said to him. "It's Shona I
want to talk about. We've decided she won't be coming back to you."

I saw the shock in his eyes. He covered it but I was looking. "True?"

"True."

"Well, there's a twist," he said thoughtfully. He had recovered his cool.

"So you can keep Robyn to play your games with," I said. "I don't care."

"I'll need Shona's word on this," he said levelly.

"Of course. I don't own her. You can see her whenever she likes."

"Damn," he said. "I'll miss her."

I left him to it. And Robyn. Shona said Martin had been at her for years to
sleep with other men. She'd even done it once, just to appease him. In fact I
had been discussed as a further possible candidate.

We got down to things I was good at. Arrangements. Financial agreements. Asset
splitting. Just detail, and I was trusted to do it fairly. Piece of cake,
really. Last I heard Robyn and Martin had split up. I didn't care to chase it
down. She could have a divorce whenever she wanted. Shona and me are just great,
thanks. Born and bred to be together. Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win.

ENDS
drspin@newsguy.com 

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