Author's Note:
My favorite characters were socially dysfunctional geek/nerd virgins, who hooked up in their senior year of high school. After a few separations when Ted went away to a university for his junior and senior years, they married and have been together for thirty years. The 'Lifestyle' series shows how they met, dated, married, then later became swingers.
******
Jan came into the dining room with the last two dishes for our dinner, setting the pork tenderloin and glazed carrots dish on the table. I finished pouring her glass of wine, then set the bottle on the table so I could hold her chair.
"Thank you," she cheerfully said as she sat, and I helped her with the chair. "I may be your bitch, but I still appreciate that you open doors for me or hold my chair."
"A lot of women today resent men doing things like that," I said as I walked around the end of the table to my chair across from her.
"That's their loss," she said. "We both know I can open my own doors. But I think it's like you're showing me a little courtesy and respect by allowing me to go first."
I chuckled, then said "You know, sometimes I only do that so I can watch your ass."
"Of course," Jan said coyly. "And I'll start worrying when you don't want to watch my ass."
After taking my seat, we picked up our wine glasses. "Cheers," I said as we both took sips. "It's the pinot noir we picked up last year on our trip to the Virginia bed and breakfast for your birthday. It should go well with the pork."
"That was a nice surprise weekend," Jan said then taking another sip. "By the way, Dad called this morning to say they've sold the house and already moved to Harrisburg."
"This is rather sudden," I said surprised. "You didn't tell me they were planning to move."
"Dad mentioned last month they were thinking of moving," Jan said. "I forgot to tell you. And I didn't realize he was putting the plan in motion so quickly."
"We could have taken time to visit and help them with the move."
"You know I couldn't be there with Mom around," Jan said. "Mom hasn't seen me for years. Dad said she's fine when I'm not around unless someone mentions me. Then it seems to bring back her memories of kids, miscarriages, and of being trapped in the car while my brother Daniel was dying. Then she has another breakdown. So, he recommended I stay away."
"When are they closing on the house sell?" I asked.
"Next month. So, I'm driving back there this weekend for one final look at the place, before it goes to closing. Do you feel like coming along?"
"Of course. That's my pussy you have, and I follow her wherever she goes. But it's been a long time since our last visit."
"With mom's condition, it was all for the best," she said.
"Are we staying with your friend Marlene and her husband, Ben?"
"No. I texted her that I'm going there to visit the house one last time. She offered us a room. But I told her it's going to be a depressing nostalgic visit, and I'd rather visit them later under better circumstances."
"Okay. Go ahead and make whatever arrangement you like. We'll take your BMW, and I'll drive," I said.
***
Weekend Getaway
We both took a day off work to get an early start, so it was about six o'clock on the late spring Friday evening when we turned off the highway into the hotel parking lot. Jan reserved a room as our first stop at a nice hotel, still about an hour drive from our hometown. The motels closer to the rural area where we grew up had fallen into disrepair and some were more likely to rent rooms by the hour.
We checked into the hotel, quickly showered, and changed. The hotel restaurant was good for a leisurely dinner. Then we planned on having a drink in the adjacent nightclub.
After cleaning up, I was wearing my usual jeans with a blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled halfway up my arms. I looked in the mirror, remembering how Jan appreciated a blue shirt going well with my blue eyes on our first date. The tall slightly athletic-looking guy in the mirror had unkempt mostly black hair hanging down just below the tops of his ears. So, I ran a comb through the slightly graying hair to keep it out of my eyes.
When I came out of the bathroom, Jan was ready to go to dinner, wearing a short, silver dress, matching small purse, and four-inch heels with ankle straps. The dress was lowcut, showing plenty of cleavage to admire. She didn't look trampy but was rather elegant with long auburn hair hanging halfway down her back. She kept some of the long hair pulled forward over her left shoulder lying on top of her breast to allow the hair in front to drape seductively over her left eye. And she used just a little mascara along with a subtle shade of shiny lip gloss to complete a very seductive look.
Although I tend to dress casually, my wife always dresses to impress. And I enjoy looking at the sexy outfits she wears to catch my attention. She seems to always enjoy the attention she gets as men turn to look, and she exploits their distractions in every situation. But as we always ask and say to each other at the end of many nights; "Who are you going to bed with?" "You, every night!" We've had a great relationship for almost thirty years.
***
It was after nine o'clock when we walked through the hotel lobby to the nightclub. The place was the usual dark club venue with a long bar to the right side of the entrance from the hotel lobby. There were plenty of four-chair tables, a twenty-by-twenty-foot-wide dance floor, and a small stage to the left of the entrance for the band, the stage being just a foot higher than the rest of the floor.
We stopped inside the door in the relatively dark alcove, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Most of the tables were occupied, but there were a few empty seats at the long bar.
The four band members were playing a selection of 60's and 70's rock and disco music in their first set, as a few couples were on the dance floor moving to the music. The band members all looked to be in their late 50's, having grown up to that type of music.
Looking around the room, I studied the people and paused at each face, trying to decide if any of them looked familiar from our nearby small-town past.
Jan stared at the band for a minute, then turned to me. "This place hasn't changed at all."
"Since when?" I asked. "I've never been here."
"When you went away to the university that first year, Marlene and I came here a few times."
"Oh?" I remembered her description long ago, and I turned to look at the band. "Do you recognize them?"
I thought back to the first summer after I returned from the university, when we got back together. I told her of everyone I dated, including the misadventure with one woman who was married. Jan related her story of falling for a band member, only to return a week later and see him with his wife.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "That's Ryan on the base guitar."
I looked back at the band. The guy was thin and about six feet tall, with shoulder length graying hair and a receding hairline already halfway over his head. He wore jeans and a black printed t-shirt with a print of Gene Simmons from the band Kiss on the front. A typical aging hippie.
"Would you mind taking a seat here at this end of the bar?" Jan began, pointing to our right. "I'm going over there to the other end."
"Why?" I asked. "What do you have in mind?"
"I don't see any groupie wives at the tables," she said.
That evening long ago when I mentioned my college date's jealous husband, Jan described her
'similar'
experience with the married guy from the band as her first experience with the deceptive nature of nightclub dating. Without his wedding ring, she didn't know he was married until she saw him with his wife a week later. So, I had an idea of what she might be planning.
Jan took off her wedding ring and put it in her purse, then went to the end barstool at the other corner of the bar, taking a seat with a vacant stool to her right beside her. She called the female bartender over and ordered her drink.
The bartender reached for the Remy Martin XO, a good sipping cognac on the top shelf. She used a lighter to warm a brandy snifter before pouring Jan a straight shot, then also brought her a glass of water.
Jan pulled out a fifty from her purse, placing it on the bar. She leaned forwarded and talked quietly to the bartender for a minute. The bartender glanced back at me then to Jan and nodded, taking the fifty.
The drink Jan ordered made my member twitch in my pants. I knew the eventual flirty results the cognac would have on her, and I looked forward to taking her back to our bed. My wife looked both elegant and gorgeous sitting there in her short dress with her legs crossed and sipping the cognac.
I ordered a Bacardi and coke, nursing my drink slowly, with the evening still young. But I noticed Jan suddenly finished her shot as soon as the band announced their first break. As the band members left the stage, the guy Jan pointed out, Ryan walked straight toward the bar and the only single woman there, my wife.
He walked up to her and leaned on the bar opening to her left. After exchanging a few words, Jan tilted her empty glass and shrugged dismissively. Ryan dropped his head, then looked up calling the bartender over and pointing to Jan's glass. I saw him shake his head and the bartender returned handing her another cognac, not the brand she previously ordered.
He walked around Jan and took the vacant stool beside and in front of her to her right, his back now turned toward me so they could talk across the corner of the bar. They continued talking for a few minutes, and I could see his arm move down, obviously putting his hand on her leg. Then he motioned toward the hallway across the dance floor near the stage leading to the restrooms.
Jan smiled and shook her head, saying something to him. That's when I saw her look at me and motion with a slight jerk of her head to her left at the open bar now slightly behind her.
I stood from my chair and walked over to them, leaning on the bar to Jan's left. Placing my hand lightly on her back, I asked, "Could I buy you a drink?"
"I'm in the mood for a good highland scotch," Jan said smiling, sitting back, and looking at me. "Can you handle it?"
I realized what Jan was doing, trying to get some small revenge for being used by the player so long ago. So, I decided to play along.
She turned back to Ryan, still smiling, as he glared at me and I waved the bartender over.
"Do you have Macallan 18?" I asked, ordering what I knew would be the most exclusive of their stock.
"Of course," the bartender replied and smiled as she reached up taking a bottle from the top shelf.
