Wife Swap

1

~Liz~"I said no Mike." I yelled.
Mike Kane is my husband, we were rocking for a few years. He is somewhat of a big-time lawyer. You know a few slips and falls and wrongful death cases. I met mike when we were in high school. He was literally the finest man in school with a population of 100. He was the school star football player and i was the geek working in the library trying to stay lowkey. So technically we were high school sweethearts. He literally took a geek and made me to be his personal freak but that's a story for another time. Let me introduce myself My name is Liz Kane. I'm 22 years old , 5"6 thick in all the right places and a housewife. I guess you can say I luck up right?

"Man you fucking tripping. Its just for a fucking week." He pressed. I watched as he paced back and forth giving me nasty glares which I paid no mind.
"I dont care if it was for one minute. Im not about to let some anonymous ass women come in my house. Do i look stupid? That shit isn't innocuous." I stump.

This fool wanted to participate in this wife swap game. Yes, you heard it the wife swap. The same tv show that comes on your mammy screen when she's feeling unappreciated by you and your pappy. The only difference between the shows and my life, this shit is straight up urban, and I know my husband. There's a saying the same way you get them you lose 'em. Yes, i did it, he belonged to another woman, I took him married him and knew Karma was knocking at my door. Last thing I needed was another woman breathing down my man's back when I was still molding the hoe out of him. I don't believe in beating a bitch ass, but I will still drag a ghetto ass bitch by her backwards wearing weave.

"You can't do this one thing for me? You don't even know how the girl look. Plus you going to be in the house up with her husband. How you think she feeling? Hell a nigga can't be too careful." He pressed on.

He was laying it on thick at this point. He knew damn well I wasn't looking nor thinking about another nigga when I was steady fighting to keep his ass. I was too busy stalking my husband to worry about another nigga.

I walk up to him and shove my finger in his bird chest. "You know me better than anybody else, Micheal. Nigga I knew you since middle school you know exactly how I move and how I think. I'm loyal and not even that I love you. I just don't feel right playing wifey for another man while I barely have my man all together." I admitted.
"Not only that I hold myself to a higher standard, which you may call classy."

"Classy? Im tired of you repeating that shit. Liz you get more than any average wife and you don't even lift a finger to help. Hell, I don't even ask for sex unless you want it. You literally have your pussy on a schedule for me, do I complain? No. But when I ask you to do something, you turn it down quick as hell. That's saying fuck me. You don't care about nobody but your damn self. As long as you get your nails done, get that big ass check I bring home, and shop like your ass about to die, you are good. Keep enjoying the fruits of my labor and see how it becomes limited." He stood up and begun pacing the floor. I watched as he walked back and forth between the kitchen and fowler sneaking glancing at me.

Did I tell you my husband was the king of Gaslighting? As I said he was laying it on thick and just like typical me I gave into it. A long time ago, I gave up on myself and surrounded my life around him. Every dream I had went down the drain. Those sleepless night I took helping him study and pass the bar was my life. I no longer had a life I no longer had any dreams.

I watch as he got up and headed for the kitchen. I follow him, scraping my short French tip nails on our white marble island countertop. He was right, dead ass right. I never do anything he wanna do.

"Ok Mike." I said.
"What?" He questioned
"You heard me. I said okay. I dont want that bitch near our room. She sleep in the guestroom. I dont want her walking butt naked around here and i don't want her touching you." I said.