This is part one of a series. Hope you like it. I’ve tried to find an even balance between building the characters and sexual escapades. You can decide.
-HB

“Push your end up, push it up!” I grunted while trying to keep my half of the sofa from knocking me back down the stairs. Above me James heaved upward and the bottom of the sofa cleared the rail. Now I could push and nudge the heavy piece of furniture the last few inches around the tight corner.

“We’re gonna have to tip it sideways.” James noted, backing toward the open door of his apartment. “I hope we don’t have to take the fuckin’ door off.”

Fortunately we didn’t. We coerced James’ new sofa through the door and into its reserved spot along the front window of the living room.

“There!” he said, hands on hips, smiling. “I knew that thing was going to be a bitch.”

I nodded, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll sit and rest a minute.” I took off my heavy winter coat and tossed it on a chair where he’d thrown his. He sure picked a hell of a day to move. We’d gotten four inches of snow that afternoon with more on the way.

James brought two bottles of water from the kitchen and sat beside me on the soft, comfortable cushions. “Nice isn’t it?”

“Very nice.” I agreed, taking the offered water, “A good napping couch.”

“Do you want to get something to eat? I’ll pay since you helped me out.” James asked.

I liked he idea but I knew Tracy would be watching the clock every second I was away. She’d have a fit if I went to eat without her. Her idea of a good husband was one who stayed at her heels ready to bark at the smallest command. Arguing with her had drained me over the last eight years. It was easier to just sit and bark.

“I better not. Tracy’s expecting me to cook dinner.”

James mouth tightened and he slammed his water bottle onto the end table with a thud.
“Fuck that.” He exclaimed, his voice rising uncharacteristically. “You never do anything without her throwing a fit. You have a right to have fun once in a while without being bitched at.”

I’d jerked back at his outburst and stared, eyes wide, my mouth in a crooked grin.

He turned away with a sigh and leaned forward on his arms. His voice returned to its normal soft tone. “I’m sorry Andy. I shouldn’t interfere. It’s just that I’m sick of seeing the way she treats you.”

He looked at me and continued, “She may be your wife but she’s also my cousin so that gives me some liberty to say what I think. She’s become insufferable. She was always a bitch but she’s worse now than ever, and do you know why?”

I shrugged. He wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know.

His mouth tightened again. “It’s because you’re pussy whipped Andy. You’ve become her pet. She must be great in bed because she’s got you totally whipped.”

What could I say? He was right except