"Okay, you want me to help save the world. You've got my attention. But I can't imagine that you aren't just being a bit melodramatic."
"Maybe so, Cath. But wait until I put it all in context and make my offer."
She had just licked my pussy and given me the best orgasm I'd ever had. Adding that to the weekend at the spa, I owed her a good hearing. For the rest of that evening, and all the next day as we enjoyed our spa treatments, she explained. I asked many questions and she was very patient with me.
To recap the core of her beliefs, all the conspiracy theories about the world being run by the Freemasons, the Knights Templar, the One Percenters or any other group of men have it all wrong. It is the women who run the world or, to be more precise, women mostly run the men who run the world.
Women and children suffer the worst fates when a civilization falls or a society descends into lawlessness. We have the most at stake. Men can't be relied on with the fate of anything as precious as our children, but we can't avoid being dependent on them while still raising children. For that, we need to be the civilizing influence, the women behind the good men and the women who get the good men to defeat the bad men. It is up to us to enable our survival.
Unfortunately this means putting and keeping men in positions of power, because they find it all too easy to shrug off the burdens we place on them if they don't wield power. They need the tools to do what we need them to do. We need what they bring to the table.
It's not only their physical strength or their aggressiveness. We need the application of their minds to the solving of problems while our minds are preoccupied with producing and nurturing the next generations. For the most part, men are the builders and the destroyers and we are the maintainers. We can try to deny that and find all kinds of exceptions, but it won't stop them from dropping their tools and walking off the job, and then where would we be?
To say the least, I was highly skeptical of much of what she told me. It flew in the face of so much evidence to the contrary. The kernel of it is that women, assert great influence over what men do. This happens at the most personal level. Mothers influence sons. Wives influence husbands. Daughters influence fathers. The more subtle we are, the more they think their decisions are truly theirs. That influence is poured down the drain in a divorce. That's the point of the Last Wives Club. By committing to staying with men who cheat on us, we gain more influence over what they do and more control, not less control, over our own futures.
Providing that they do not totally suck as fathers, our children can benefit from not breaking the family up. Our marriages become more about convenience and less about emotional satisfaction, which we must then seek from other sources. This is why women "network" so much. Loose supportive interactions, everything from gossip to consoling those who are suffering, is how women cope emotionally with many of the feelings we have. Feelings that we need in order to nurture children and tolerate living with men, so that we can survive to produce and nurture children.
According to Kyra, since the height of the Roman Empire (at least), not all of these associations between women have been "loose". The women of powerful men have networked into an agreement to shape the future by guiding the decisions of their men toward the goals that the women mutually agreed on. With few exceptions, those goals were toward peace, trade, civilization, diplomacy, compromise, negotiation, treaty, alliance, prosperity, etc. All the things that bind us into agreements.
One of the common threads is that few of these women were able to curb their men's appetites for other women. Beneath the veneer of civilization, we are just apes, and this is as true of women as it is of men. Women are in constant competition with each other for the benefits of associating with men. We say it is our hearts that guide us and not our brains, but whatever it is, it has a direct connection to our genitals. We fall in and out of lust, but we can continue to love. The Last Wives Club takes advantage of the fact that when men break their marriage vows, we can gain the use of their power for our purposes. We just have to strike the right bargain with them.
When I heard this, I thought back to all the examples of men caught being unfaithful and the women who stood with them. Sometimes literally on a stage, a cheating husband would speak at a microphone in full view of the world and his woman would stand behind his shoulder, usually looking hurt but determined to ride the storm. Kyra claimed that these were often members and that she knew of a woman who worked for the US Secret Service and who was recruited into the Last Wives Club by a First Lady. Then she pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips, indicating she would say no more about that.
She said that politicians are just the most public example and usually not the most powerful. That there are many wives with a less public profile that collude with each other, conspiring against the cheating man in a way that benefits the aggrieved woman and her children and all the women and children of the world. Closing ranks and protecting the suffering are what we do. Often, but not always, this is the result of membership in the Last Wives Club.
Kyra encouraged me to think of all the philandering husbands who have not been publicly exposed and the price they could be coerced to pay to avoid the cost of divorce and scandal. This mysterious cabal of women wanted my husband. And through Kyra, as we sat in our third mineral bath, I was being offered their reward, membership in the network as a knowing participant.
"So let me get this straight. I stay with my husband and I get the rewards of membership in this club. At this point, I'm not sure I could even stand to be in the same room with him. My first instinct was to run and hide. But you need him. Why?"
"Well it's not just him, Cath. We need you, too. In your current job we can work you into a spot that can help us. And with you in our organization, there are other ways that you can contribute. But your husband needs to stay where he is, and a divorce would make that too uncertain. He's on track for CEO."
"Really? That just doesn't seem likely."
"It is likely, if we can keep him on track. I've been counting on you to do that for us."
"How did he come to your attention?"
"I saw his potential, and yours of course, through our friendship. I knew when you called, that you both would be good recruits, so I offered to sponsor you and my sponsor agreed. That's how most of this works. We discover opportunities. We hope for the best and prepare for the worst."
"So you predicted my husband would be unfaithful?"
"No more than I predicted mine would, Cath. No more than you can predict now that your daughter's one day will or won't. You might end up sponsoring her. If and when my boys get married, I might end up sponsoring my daughters-in-law. Marriage is a roll of the dice."
"I don't know about this, Kyra. Frankly, this 'It's for the children' stuff sounds kind of trite."
Kyra sat back and appraised me. I was afraid I had offended her. Then I saw a hint of a smile.
"I'm so proud of you, Cath. I thought that I would have you already, but I underestimated you. Okay Ms. Engineer, a hypothetical. You divorce your husband because you can't trust him not to do what men do, boink willing women. You've either assigned all the blame to him or made an excuse for whatever part you had in the breakup. There are two sides to every divorce story, and if you count the other woman's, there are three.
"Assuming you have a good lawyer, who will get a big chunk of the settlement, you'll take him to the cleaners. He'll leave from your influence both bitter and wiser. You'll find yourself in the dating pool again. If you don't find another husband, you'll be raising your kids alone and that could cause your career to suffer. At your age, you won't find many men who weren't in the same boat your husband was in or who didn't have wives that cheated on them. The competition for them is fierce and they usually run from commitment, especially from women who have kids.
"Your dating pool will be mostly men who are bitter and wiser from their first marriage. If they're good men and decent fathers, they'll have to protect their children from losses. That means a pre-nup. You understand pre-nuptial agreements are not all bad news for mothers right? You would want your husband to have one to protect your children, right? Well think of what we do as giving you a re-nup. You both re-enlist in your marriage under new terms.
"It's not just 'for the children'. It's for your future and his. You grow old together, preserving the best parts of what can be salvaged. It will hurt when he's with other women, but at least you won't be a single mom fishing in a pool of hook-shy pike. When life gives us lemons...."
"Yeah, I know. Find someone whose life gave them vodka and have a party."
"That's what we're doing here, having a party at this spa. And we can make that, or some other girl time, part of your non-divorce settlement. How about you and I get together a few times per year at a place like this. We'll talk a little club business and have a little fun. If you decide you're not into me, I'll still be your sponsor. With our resources, I can vet lovers for you or even for your husband. When you've sent a lover your husband's way, you know you're committed to keeping the marriage together."
"You do that for Benedict?"
"Yes, Cath. I'm committed to keeping my marriage together. It's better if I choose the woman who trips him and then falls beneath him, than if he finds one god-knows-where."
"Wow! Just... wow! Right now, I'm so mad at my husband that I can't imagine giving him a hall pass, much less vetting another woman for him. It would take a pretty big incentive to get me to agree to that. Tell me more about what I can gain from this settlement."
"From your husband? Or from the club?"
"Okay, husband first. You want a housemaid? Easy. Probably far easier than getting a greater commitment of his time. You want a personal trainer to help you keep your figure and live healthier? Easy. You want time away for yourself. Easy. Really it's a matter of what you want. The sky's the limit until it causes burnout. You want to stop demanding more from him before he decides to chuck it all down the shitter and open a bait store in the sticks. You raise the amount you can expect from him by giving him rope and letting him have some fun. After I've sent a woman to him, Benedict is much more forgiving and loving."
"But Kyra, we can't afford those things. We're making good money, but we've got a big mortgage and three college funds to feed."
"Cath, I've got a team working on your financials. You're better off than you seem to think you are, but that doesn't surprise me, because a lot of men pretend the money is tighter than it is. Your husband is a wealth hider and you have not been paying attention. That very common with women who just aren't interested in financial stuff.
"You can afford to live quite a bit better than you do now, without sacrificing your kids' college funds or harming your retirement hopes. And from here on out, with us pulling strings on both of your careers and on your investments, you're going to be moving on up the wealth ladder. Making and moving money is my specialty and with me as your sponsor, you'll be rolling in it. And that's not all we can do. You will have a vast network of sisters. You will never have to look for a sitter. Place a call or send an email or a text message and a vetted sister will be found for you. We have women in all kinds of jobs to draw upon."
"It's seems we've gotten into what you can do for me. What do I do for you?"
"You'll network with me. I'll contact you with our needs. We don't have many women in the engineering fields, but we do have goals that require engineering. It could be anything from just data that's readily available to you, to analysis time, or even to intervention in some aspect of your company's business. If you have ideas or suggestions that you think can help us, you let me know about them. You look for opportunities in other women you know. You'll carry a special cell phone and have a secure email address for club business.
"You'll also have access to secret financial resources that you can use for our mutual gain. You saw my red credit card. You'll start with a blue card. Tan is the lowest level. If all goes well, in two years you'll have a white card. I can't promise a red. It requires both the desire and the ability to offer a high level of commitment, but as you've seen, that's my level and it's got amazing capabilities.
"You'll charge your club expenses to your card and you'll gain access to special places with it. You'll hear from me if you do anything that looks unacceptable, but if you have an expense that you have to hide from the ball and chain, we'll almost always cover it or help you find a way."
"How many of these levels are there?"
"I honestly don't know. Red is the highest that I know of, but I strongly suspect there's at least one higher. That reminds me, first rule of Last Wives Club..."
"I know, don't talk about Last Wives Club."
"Yep. I know my sponsor. I can't tell you who she is. I took an oath. I have an inkling of who her sponsor is, but she can't tell me. I know those I've sponsored. I can't tell you about any of them. When you sponsor someone, I'll know who they are, but my sponsor won't, unless she needs to. Compartmentalization works, but not perfectly. We develop a network of sisters as we meet them in our efforts. Sometimes we learn more than we need to know about them. But we remain as secretive as we can to protects a vast collection of resources. These are the resources we tap into in order to do everything from finding jobs for single moms to stabilizing the economies of the world.
"Obviously, there must be a webspinner keeping track of all this. I really don't have a clue as to who or what is at the top, or how the really big decisions are made. Men would never consider having a conspiracy so loosely controlled, so even though some men know that our group exists, most men underestimate its influence. They just seem incapable of believing that much could be accomplished without men in charge."
"How do I know that any of the upper level stuff is real?"
"You don't. I don't. Perhaps we never will. You'll be able to charge things to your card and I'll learn about them. You'll get communications only from me initially, but later you'll network with others and get access to databases of issues to address. You'll be able to take issues and make them yours."
"So basically, you're offering me a chance to help rule the world by shopping, living well, and taking on tasks?"
"Well, don't forget meeting with me a few times a year."
"I'm not forgetting that, Ky. That's the part I'm looking forward to the most. So when do I take this oath?"
"Later, in the room. I have to record it on video and send it to my sponsor. I'm so glad you're willing. This will be fun."
We dressed again that evening for dinner. Kyra looked particularly glamorous and sexy, and I was feeling that I had come a long way toward being a head turner, at least for heads that had a little maturity. So I felt confident after dinner, when I stood in front of her cell phone.
"I, Marie Catherine Lesperance, do solemnly commit to the goal of building a better world through peace, prosperity and tolerance. I will keep the confidences of my sponsors and those I may sponsor. I will participate by communicating opportunities and accepting the guidance of my sponsor. I will employ my privileges responsibly and surrender them willingly if, and when, I am unable to do so."
"Welcome, sister." Kyra stopped the recording and gave me a sisterly hug and then said, "Um, Marie?"
"It's a French Catholic thing. Virgin Mary and all that. All my sisters are named Marie Something-or-other. In theory, it reminds us not to give it up before marriage. It worked with me."
"You guys are so bizarre. All these years of friendship and I'm still learning new things about you."
"It's an old custom. Not common here in the US, but my grandmother is from Quebec. I don't tell many people, especially since I left the Church. But after last night, you're extra special."
"I'll file that under bizarre things you can learn after licking someone's pussy."
"Here's another one. My husband says I snore after good sex."
"I learned that last night. Cute little puppy snores."
"Nothing to be sorry for. Benedict's snoring shakes the walls and I sleep right through it. Um, I also noticed that you used your maiden name."
"Yup. If my marriage is going to be a fiction, Catherine Geroux will be a fictional name. I wouldn't take an oath with a fictional name."
Having sworn my allegiance, I couldn't help feeling that maybe I was being naive, but I trusted Kyra to not get me into something that would do more harm than good. And I guess I needed the camaraderie that it offered, because it gave me a sense of independence from my husband.
I asked Kyra about the next steps. The next day would be spent preparing the terms and conditions for my marriage of convenience. I would go home on the following day and deliver them to my husband. Then the negotiating would begin.
I felt that a new me was emerging, and for that, it was time to celebrate. We were sitting on the couch and sipping wine. The harder drinking was behind us and we had the lights dimmed. The mood was mellow, but I felt an undercurrent of expectation.
We took a little trip down memory lane, to our freshman year in college. We laughed about how far I had come from being a straightlaced Catholic virgin thrown in with a WASP slut who had already had sex with a half-dozen boys and even a girl. We talked about how casual she was about nudity in our dorm room and how long it took me to be comfortable even being seen in my underwear by her.
"Do you remember 'fur checks'?"
"Yes, Cath, I remember them. I never got to give you one."
"Well, I never wore a swimsuit that needed one."
"It wasn't just that. I used to be so jealous of you. Even if I had worn those granny one-piece suits that you used to wear, I was so bushy back then that I would need to shave just to keep from being called a sasquatch. You only had hair where it was supposed to be. It cost a pretty penny to have that wild growth permanently removed. I wasn't easily embarrassed, but I remember how embarrassing it was to ask you to help me get those thick black hairs that I couldn't see or reach so I could wear that tiny swimsuit on Spring Break."
"That wild bush was one of the things I liked about you. The first time I helped you trim it was the first time I realized that I had sexual feelings for you."
"Really? I never knew. I used to get so turned on when you were shaving me, but I was always so afraid of ruining our friendship."
"Me, too. For years, I've masturbated to the memories of you pulling your knees back so I could 'make you presentable'. The first time, especially. You wore your tiniest pair of panties. They were pale yellow and you pulled the back side deep into your ass crack so I would get every hair that might show up as you strutted around Florida."
"I remember that. You were so timid as you pulled each cheek open to get the hairs I missed. It took you a long time to get them all."
"Well, I must confess. That was partly because I was enjoying the experience so much. My panties were soaked by the time I was done. I had all these fantasies as I was doing it."
"Tell me about them. I'll compare them to mine."
"Well, at first I thought of pushing the cloth aside and shaving all the rest off. And then rubbing baby oil all over and continuing to rub until... But then came the wickedest thought. I never thought of any other woman this way, but I thought of licking you. I even tasted my own juice to make sure I could do it. I was surprised at how easy it was to overcome my aversion. After that, I would taste my juice while I masturbated and fantasized about licking wherever I wanted on your body. In my fantasies, I always ended up between your thighs and it would make me come so hard."
"God, Cath. This is making me so horny." I had noticed her squirming as I talked.
"Well, let's get out of these clothes and I'll give you a fur check."
"You're sure you want this, Cath. I don't want to be a revenge fling."
"I want this more than anything, Kyra. I picture us growing old together, and doing fur checks whenever you need."
"You can't imagine how happy it makes me to hear that."
We stood and I grabbed her face and kissed her. At 5' 9", she's about two inches taller than me, tan, lean, and athletic. I'm softer, rounder, and fair skinned. I wanted to be the aggressor that night and she let me. I unzipped her tight little red dress and let it slide from her. She had been taunting me with her body all day and I was finally getting to take it for a ride.
I looked her in the eyes as I slid my hands over her shoulders, just the way I would with a man. I hugged her to me as I slid them down her back to her firm ass. My mouth found a nipple and I was pleased that it was already hard. She unzipped my dress and I shrugged it off. I moved around to her side so that I could fondle one ass cheek, lick and suck one nipple and snake my other hand into her panties. Her slit was very wet. She gasped when I found her clit.
"Found it," I said. "I've never touched another woman's clit before. It's different. A little bigger."
She grabbed my hand and pulled it to her mouth, licking my fingers. "I've never tasted myself from another woman's fingers before."
"How about from another woman's face?"
"No, not that either."
"Well, let me give you another first."
"You're sure, Cath?"
"Kyra! Unless you don't want your pussy licked, just shut the fuck up. You've done so much to restore my confidence and hope for a better future. Now let me start taking care of myself again. I want to do this. So get on the bed and assume the position."
She got on the bed and pulled her knees up, just like she had when I hunted for stray hairs in college. The difference now was that she was wearing sheer black stockings and the naughtiest red panties I'd ever seen. I pulled her ass cheeks open and gazed at her perfectly smooth skin. "Not a hair in sight."
"Nope, now I'm smooth for life that far down."
I pushed my fingers up a little higher, off her butt cheeks and into that area just outside her vulva that drove me to distraction when I used to shave it. my soft strokes raised goosebumps on her flesh. "Not a hair to be found here. I like this smooth." I blew softly on the goosebumps.
"Argh, Cath, you're drivin' me fuckin' nuts."
"Let's see if you've hidden any hair around here somewhere." I pulled her panties to the side and beheld her smooth bare pussy. Everything looked puffy and glistened with her flow. I took a deep breath through my nose and the aroma of her arousal was heady. I couldn't hold back any longer. I poked my tongue deep into her hole and then brought it up to her clit.
"Ohhhhhhh. Don't stop."
"Lift up, Ky." I pulled her panties out from under her hips and left them dangling off one foot. I pushed her thighs apart and started licking again. I listened and learned what she liked as I tried different things, things that I thought I might like. I set a pace that slowly brought her to the brink, alternating circling with stroking her clit from below.
When I sensed the moment, I quickened my pace and sucked her little nub in between my lips. She grabbed the sheets so hard that I thought her fingernails might pierce through them. Her legs jerked up and quivered as her orgasm rippled through her. I let up just a little and then quickened my pace again, sending waves of renewed pleasure through her until finally, she could take no more. She pushed my face up, her ragged breathing starting to slow.
"God, Cath. That was incredible."
I crawled beside her on the bed. "Really? That was my first time."
"Well I hope it won't be the last for me, Cath."
"It won't. I enjoyed it."
Then we were kissing, and then she was licking my face. Her hand journeyed into my panties and brought me to a very satisfying orgasm.
"God, Kyra. That was great. If you had a cock, you would be a perfect lover."
"I do have a cock, a nice big one. I didn't bring it. It's only been used once."
"I'm so jealous of whoever got to be on the receiving end."
"Don't be," she smirked. "He didn't enjoy it."
"You mean you...? In some guy's ass?"
"Yep. He wanted mine, so I made a bargain with him. I fucked his and then he fucked mine."
"How was it. I've always been curious."
"I didn't like it from him. He's too big. I made sure mine was as big as his and he never pestered me for anal again."
"It was Benedict?"
"Don't tell him that I told you. I'll bring it next time. We can both use it. It's kind of fun to drive."
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/lesbian/last-wives-club-2-taking-the-oath.aspx">Last Wives Club -- 2 -- Taking the Oath</a>