Part One: A most Awful Friday Night.
How in God's name could she do this to me ... again!
Here I sit ... like some kind of fool! It is late, and I am sitting in an empty house, with just the night light from the kitchen to provide what light there is. I am listening to some soft jazz, but my mind is not on it. My thoughts are across town in a high-test hotel room. I am feeling a mix of emotions; they are all at war within me. I feel angry, frustrated, jittery, and restless; I can't relax ... I can't sit still. It seems like my mind is trying to process a thousand thoughts at once. To add to my confusion there was also an element of arousal that I cannot fully account for. It was just lingering around in the background with everything else I am feeling. Mostly I am angry ... damn angry! My wife of fifteen years is in a hotel room with another man, a stranger.
Well, he is a stranger to me. It's something she needs, she says. She asked me to go home but not to wait up for her. Doesn't she know that would be impossible for me? I can't just sit here, and do what ... wait for her while she is having sex with another man? No fucking way! I decided that I was not going to be here when she returns! So, I climb the stairs, put a change of clothes quickly in a small bag, grabbed my coat with my wallet in it, a bottle of wine off the counter and headed for the door.
There is a fair-to-middling motel a few miles from here; I can stay there until I can figure out what to do. In the car, I am just sitting and thinking. She said that if I did not want her to go with this man, she would not go. I am guessing that she thought that I would just go along with it ... a gross misjudgment on her part, I would say. Because I called the bi ... ah, my wife's bluff and said NO, don't go! I told her not to do it, but she went anyway. I am just guessing that she didn't want the hassle of sneaking around behind my back by getting my willing agreement.
So, what was my next step supposed to be at that moment ... just grab her by the arm, and force her little ass into the car and take her home? That would have been the manly thing to do, albeit a little on the Cro-Magnon side. That would have accomplished nothing! She would just go behind my back at her first opportunity. This is not the first time for my dear wife. She had an affair about five years ago, that nearly tore apart our marriage. That time, she was fucking a client for some weeks before I found out. This was the only affair I knew about, and her actions tonight left me wondering if there had been more, I didn't know about.
"Damn her! ... Damn her to HELL!" I thought as I jammed my foot on the brake and stabbed at the start button. I didn't mean to take my frustrations our on my little Jeep, it was just too handy a stand-in for her. I proceeded to the motel, and checked in. Pulled the bottle of dark red wine out of the small bag with my change of clothes in it, and started to do some serious damage to it. Since tomorrow—or actually today—was Saturday, I didn't have any place to be so getting drunk seemed a viable option.
I am Tom. My wife Janet and I have been married for fifteen years. We have no children and live in an upscale neighborhood. I am a corporate finance manager, and Janet is a successful real estate broker. At thirty-six, Janet is petite and shapely, with dark brown hair and gorgeous emerald-green eyes. She is a stunner ... no doubt! To think of that petite shapely little ass being plundered at this very moment by god-knows-who, is driving be crazy.
Our marriage has not been the greatest; we have had problems as everyone has and I guess ... maybe a few more than most. Since her affair, our love life has become somewhat ... staid. You could say that it has become a marriage of convenience ... a convenience to our professional lives. I know that professionals do not like to admit it, but it is more acceptable in business society to be married ... it shows stability and dependability to prospective clients and to upper management.
I have always noticed the way men watched Janet as she walked down the street. And why not? They are attracted I suppose, by her incredibly beautiful dark-green eyes and the natural wiggle in her shapely little ass as she walks. Janet has become a somewhat restless spirit over the years of our marriage. Since we married young, I am guessing she has to have wondered what it would be like to be with another man. Well, she found out, at least once that I knew about. After her affair, we had a tough time but we worked through it. I nearly divorced her ass when I found out. In the end, I made sure she knew that there are second chances in life ... but there are no third chances! So, here we are again.
As I said, we got married early; Janet was only nineteen when we started dating and barely twenty-one when we were married, and I was not much older. Sometimes I think that she feels cheated out of the normal experience of dating other men before marriage. She was lively and sweet in college, and before the wedding, but something changed inside her after a miscarriage early on. She became distant, not as youthful and fun loving. She threw herself into her work, and completed her real estate broker's license. We have stayed together mostly because of our comfortable life styles, busy jobs, and perhaps ... well, maybe just out of habit.
We do not have children because Janet cannot have them ... we tried. Adopting was just an idea that we put off during our busy social and professional lives ... just never got around to it. Honestly, I think that her inability to have children herself just turned her off to the idea of raising some other woman's baby. To spice things up we have tried role-playing, and have even done the "meeting-at-the-bar" game some couples use to get the juices flowing. Early on, playing that particular game, I made the mistake of voicing a fantasy about her maybe being with another man. It was just that ... a fantasy, but she remembered that I said it.
At the time, she reacted with a puzzled look saying, "Would you really like to see me um, with someone else, Thomas?
I reaction was immediate, "NO! God no ... of course not honey!" Once you start down the road of trying to explain a verbal slip, you end up just making it worse. I would never want to lose this diminutive beauty, especially not that way.
You might ask what the initial attraction was. Well, I was a college athlete (Baseball, mostly, and a little track), and Janet and her best friend Brenda were cheerleaders. I dated Brenda before Janet, but I fell for Janet's incredible emerald eyes and pretty, petite figure. Quite shallow no doubt, but what can you expect from a college kid ... more raging hormones than brains. Cute and petite; what's not to like. Were we in love? Yah, I guess, at the start and for some years. People's lives get busy with work and other activities. Then there was that horrible night that she lost a child we were both excited about having. Later, the doctor informed her that she was would not be able to have children. Something just clicked off inside her, very palpably.
Once a jock, always a jock. I have always stayed active, with bicycling, downhill skiing, racquetball with friends, and some pickup baseball with former classmates. Janet joined with me in some of these activities ... not racquetball or baseball, but some skiing, and bicycling. She liked tennis, and I joined her in that activity, but she was much better at it than I was. I consider myself more fit than most other thirty-eight year-olds, at about five-eleven, and one hundred seventy-two pounds. I am not classically handsome, but female friends have often told me that I am "cute," whatever in the hell that means.
One this particular Friday night, I wanted to take my wife out for dinner and drinks, to celebrate an escrow closing for one of her clients. We went to a nice restaurant, and had a great meal. She likes champagne but I think it's garbage, so I had a nice red wine with my NY strip steak. The only other thing that stood out in my memory of that diner was that a tall handsome man who looked to be about twenty-eight to thirty smiled at Janet as he walked by. I didn't think anything of it, since she received a lot of that kind of attention.
After a minute or two Janet excused herself to go the the lady's room, her meal made her fingers sticky and she wanted to wash up. We were going to stop at one of our favorite watering holes after dinner, but when I pulled up front to park, Janet said, "Tom, let me go in by myself and give me about fifteen or twenty minutes. I saw a nice little flower shop a few blocks back. Can you buy me a pretty rose before your come in? Thanks honey."
I knitted my brow a little at that request, but I reluctantly said okay, and came around to open her door. She gave me a smile and a kiss and entered the bar by herself. I was thinking that this was another iteration of our bar game. In our version of the bar game, Janet and I would arrive at a particular bar separately. She would always attract men at the bar, and some bought her drinks before I arrived. After I arrived, I would sit next to her; buy her a drink or two. I would chat her up, and try to discourage other suitors. We would end up leaving together, go home and fuck like minks. The glow might last for a few days afterward but after that, it became very hard just to get a kiss out of her.
I sat in the car, pushed the start button, smooth Jazz poured out of the speakers, and I sat there for a minute or two. I turned the car around from where I parked, and headed back to find the florist. I have no problem buying flowers for Janet, and have done it many, many times over our years together. I entered the shop and told the little blond gum-snapping clerk behind the counter that I wanted a very special red rose for a very special lady. She grumbled something about wishing some cute guy would do that for her, but came back with a very nice specimen. I smiled, paid her and said, "Thanks, hon." Back in the car, I really didn't know what to do. It was a little too early to go to the bar to join Janet, so I drove around for another ten minutes, until my curiosity got the best of me, and I drove back to the bar.
It has been some time since we played the silly bar game, so I was a little curious and a little frightened ... nervous. What was my dear wife up to? I walked into the bar and saw Janet sitting at the bar with a drink. She also had an empty drink glass in front of her, and there were a couple of empty glasses in front of the seat next to her. I gave her a full twenty minutes, and was actually more like a half an hour since I let her out and pulled away. I walked over, sat next to her, and motioned to the bartender for a beer on tap. Janet smiled and said, "Oh, hi Tom honey." She seemed a little nervous to me. Had she been talking to a stranger who was now gone? Did she meet someone here? I didn't know. After she cleared her throat and took another sip, she started the conversation.
"Um, Tom darling, you remember that we have talked often about a fantasy you have about me, um, with another man?"
"Um, yup, I guess, maybe," was all I said.
"Okay then, tell me your entire feelings about it now." Her dark eyes sparkled as she spoke.
"Well, I dunno, I think a lot of men have some sort of fantasy about their wives or girlfriends with another man. I think it is fairly common. But, fantasies are just that ... fantasies, something you use get yourself going, and not necessarily something you would want to happen in real life." I looked at her for a moment and continued, "I guess that with a certain set of circumstances, and precautions, it could be arousing. Is there any particular reason for your asking this after insisting that I give you some time alone?" Then I handed her the rose, "Oh, and by the way, this was the loveliest rose in the shop ... I looked at them all!"
"Thank you Tom, it
is
lovely," she said as she put the flower to her nose closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The sight of her breasts rising as she breathed in the aroma of my proffered rose was not lost on me as my body reacted to it. The bartender brought my beer and another drink for Janet, we both clinked glasses and took a drink.
It was my turn to clear
