I ran into a married friend one day and when I asked him how married life was treating him, his face turned into a mask of anger and frustration when he replied, “Man, I think “C” is sleeping with one of her girlfriends!”
My first thought was, “Uh-oh…” because I knew this guy was not only homophobic but what I called an Old Testament kind of guy, you know, the type of man who, in order to establish his, ah, dominance over a woman, will start quoting the rules about what a wife is supposed to do. Personally, I always felt sorry for his wife and, like others in that married circle, wondered just what the hell she saw in him.
I listened to him ranting and raving and when he got to the part of his rant where I was supposed to agree with him that (a) his old lady shouldn’t be cheating on him and (b) she had no damned business trading his dick for pussy, well, I’m pretty sure I lost some cool points with him when I said, “So? You act like something like that ain’t supposed to happen…”
I know – and if you’ve read my other contributions you know how I know – that bisexual wives worry about a lot of the same things a bi guy does and more or less depending on where their head is about, in this case, sex… and I once again apologize to all the ladies reading this but, yeah, y’all have some pretty weird thoughts about this.
My friend asked me – and after he got over being pissed with me, “Man, shit, what would make her do some shit like that? What, she don’t like my shit anymore?”
“Do you really wanna know?” I asked, steeling myself for another outburst.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he said, his ire returning.
“Okay, so, why she would do that is, at least to me, kinda simple: She needs something you can’t give her, man,” I said. “Now, to be honest, I know some women will hook up like that if her man ain’t doing something she needs to have done, oh, like chowing down on her pussy until she passes out, for example.”
He scrunched up his face upon hearing that last part because I knew, thanks to the married couple grapevine, that he didn’t eat pussy and – get this – believed he didn’t have to. It was interesting to see him put two and two together, his facial expressions going from total disbelief to whatever served for logic in his head to point out to him that, shit, that would be a good reason.
“What would you do if your wife did some shit like that?” he asked, going for a bit of misdirection as he tried to process what I’d said to him.
“Ask her if she had fun,” I replied with my face as placid as I could make it.
After he got over the shock of my answer, I asked him how he found out and he told me that she told him what was going on… and in some pretty interesting detail… and her girlfriend was on hand to confirm things.
I knew he was having a hard time dealing with this, let alone understand why another husband (me) could be okay with his wife “dissing” his sexual offers for those a woman could provide.
I remember telling him, “Man, if you could only see it, maybe you’d understand…”
“You’ve seen your old lady doing that shit?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said with a shrug.
“And it didn’t piss you off?” he asked.
“Nah, not really,” I said. “I’ll tell you the truth: It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you get to join in?”
“Nope – I was invited to just watch,” I said.
“And you were cool with that shit?”
“I had to be…”
“Huh? What the fuck, man!”
“Look, none of that was about ME; I didn’t ask for an invitation but she wanted me to see what the deal was so that I could better understand what’s going on with her,” I said, trying to put into words something that wasn’t easy to do.
“What if she decides to leave you for some other chick?” he asked.
“If that’s what happens, it happens,” I said.
“Man, that’s some fucked up shit,” he muttered.
“Occupational hazard of being married,” I said, shrugging again. “We like to think that no one can come along and sweep our wife off her feet… and we sure as hell don’t believe that another woman could do it. The truth, I’ve learned, that it can happen at any time and for any reason… but if don’t want her to leave me for another woman, well, it just makes sense to me that if she can do her thing without having to worry about me dumping her, then that works out for both of us.”
I could tell this was going way over his head and I couldn’t think of a way to explain all of this to him in a way he could get a grip on. But I asked him, “So, um, you know this but let me ask you something: Is C happier?”
He blinked for a moment – I just love watching people think – then said, grudgingly, “Yeah… things have been pretty good here lately.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” I asked.
My question to him begged a question that I had to find an answer to as well: Which is more important, having a deliriously happy wife… or having to deal with the queen bitch of the universe because she needs to do something that will have a great impact on her life… but the rules says that she’s not supposed to?
As the husband of a bi wife, where does my duty lie? For me it was “easy” to see the logic in place here and, yes, it was made easy due to my own bisexuality. My duty is simple: If she has needs that I can “provide,” I have to provide them and, bluntly, fuck the rules that say I’m not supposed to do that.
My wife and I wound up sitting down with the two of them and telling them in no uncertain terms how we were dealing with bisexuality in our relationship. C was ecstatic to learn that she “wasn’t the only one” who had this need and praise me for, as she put it, “Being man enough to let your wife be who she needs to be.”
Several hours of very intense conversation later, my friend finally figured out that if you can’t beat them, join them. We sat and watched them change the rules, hashing out agreements, setting conditions, stuff like that and as they did so, I knew that he finally knew what I had learned: She can have her cake (or is it pie?) and eat it, too, and without losing the man in her life that she really and truly loves.
I will point out that, um, C and my wife had disappeared for a period of time to, um, talk about some stuff that wasn’t mean for a husband’s ears… and I didn’t believe that for one second because as we talked about this, I could tell the two of them were highly excited and eyeing each other in a way that, if you knew what you were seeing, easily revealed that they were now very hungry for each other.
My friend asked, “I wonder what they could be talking about?”
I looked at him, smiled, and said, “Oh, they’re talking alright… but they’re not using any words.”
“You mean they’re…?” he asked, his eyebrows threatening to crawl up into his hairline.
“Yeah, I’d say that was a safe bet,” I replied. “And, no – don’t you even think about going up there unless you’re ready to have your head removed…”
Our wives returned and both were smiling like they had stolen something and got right back to the conversation as if nothing out of the way had taken place in the time they were alone and “talking.”
As we got ready to go home, he said to me, “Man, it’s gonna be hard squaring all this shit away…”
I asked, “Do you love her?”
“Damned right I do!”
“Then if you love her, you will figure it out and more so if you wanna keep her,” I said, giving him some dap.
And, yes, when we got home – and as part of the new rules that now governed our marriage, my wife told me about their, um, conversation and in some very juicy details that led to us having some pretty amazing sex…
-KDaddy23, Contributing Author
LivingBi/BiWifeLife 