Paybac

Practical jokers are a breed unto themselves, and one I've never cared for. These days it's called "pranking," but whatever you call it, it amounts to putting someone down for the sake of humor, especially humor that shows the victim to be naive or stupid or gullible, while showing the joker to the victim's superior in terms of guile or smarts or power. Like I said, just not my thing.

I'm not saying that I've never participated in the game - and we tell ourselves it's just a game - but it never really set right with me.

Dan was known in our squadron as The Joker - that, or just "Joker" was his callsign, and his reputation. Any time someone new reported to the unit, Dan was the guy who told the newbie it was formal uniform night coming up, or sent the unsuspecting down to supply for a box of radar contacts, or a bucket of prop wash, then laughed at the poor schmuck when the ruse was apparent, always with an audience. I would have steered clear of him if I could, but as luck would have it, I was assigned as his copilot when I got to the unit, and he made me the butt of his jokes for weeks on end, until the act got old and some newer guys reported onboard.

He was a "good stick" when it came to handling the aircraft, and an appropriately demanding teacher, I'll admit that. Plus, he'd reportedly done some real heroics long before I arrived - seeing him in uniform and reading his rows of medals was impressive, which he always declined to discuss. He wasn't a braggart (which was considered bad form by one and all in that culture), just a joker.

Eventually, we just sort of put up with each other. Another couple of months passed, I qualified as aircraft commander, and after that we never flew together and rarely communicated beyond purely work topics. We kept a professional distance, no hard feelings but no real affection. He didn't care for my preferences in about anything, and I felt pretty much the same about his.

Other than his wife, Ronee...

She was a quiet, sort of pixie type -, slim, brunette with doe eyes and a nice but with a figure always under nondescript clothes and what I figured was nondescript as well. She was younger than Dan, and we were all young then. She was nice to chat with, too, but seemed shy, and always stopped talking and let Dan take the lead if he was in the room. Later, I was to discover that, as they say, still waters run deep.

Since the squadron was based overseas, it was a pretty tight group - our socializing was mostly internal, with married couples becoming friends, bachelors hanging together, and occasionally having squadron socials, formal and informal. One evening we'd had an informal squadron get-together at the apartment I shared off base with a guy named Blaine. He was as Irish and Boston as they come, complete with accent, education, and love of his mom. Great guy, fun, and to be a true friend of mine, long after our service was over. He was, however, an innocent at heart, one of the guys, but awkward around women despite his good looks.

As the party crowd thinned at the planned end time (military guys are all about timing), Dan and Ronee stayed - I don't recall just why. It wasn't like we were close, just that Dan had decided on one more drink or something. The four of us were all that was left, and we were just sitting around sort of in a circle, perched on barstools, sipping and snacking, when Dan started talking about Ronee. In typical Dan fashion, someone had to be the brunt, and that night, it was gonna be his wife.

I saw his "joker" side coming out and tried to make a point of starting to clean up, hoping that would give a hint for them to wrap it up and depart. Dan was oblivious. He made some cracks about her cooking, then told an off-color blonde joke, except he made it about a brunette who didn't have a clue. I was embarrassed for her, but she didn't seem to mind, just sat there taking the jibes. Finally, he said that he had to buy her clothes for her since she didn't have much fashion sense, and then added, "even the underwear."

That one got my attention, and I looked over at Blaine, who was clearly uncomfortable with the whole scene as well. I think Dan noticed Blaine's embarrassment and figured he had two victims to work with.

"Oh yeah, I guess especially the unds," he continued as I gathered glasses, "if I didn't buy her the sexy items, she never would on her own. It's up to me to get the crotchless panties and the garter belts and stuff. Sometimes, like tonight, I lay out for her what to wear, and that way, I can think about it all night, then give her a good ride when we get home!" He gave that a good self-congratulatory laugh, and Blaine gave it a good blush.

Dan wasn't through, though. "Tonight, it's a half cup bra under that uptight preppie outfit she has on. It leaves the whole top half bare. Can you tell that those nips are pokin' atcha, pokin' atcha?" More laughter, more blushing by Blaine.

I watched Ronee throughout all that. She watched the floor, legs crossed at the ankles, very prim and proper, hands in her lap. When I heard the half-cup bra part, I naturally checked that out. She had on a dark blue, full skirted shirtwaist dress - the kind that's all buttons from collar to hem - and sandals - typical attire for her and for the season. I couldn't make out the nipples, but my imagination was on full duty, so I guess I stared a bit, trying to discern them. The skirt part was mid-calf length, and as I was checking out the bodice, I registered that she'd arranged the skirt so that, maybe, maybe not - hard to tell, she was sitting direct on the barstool, not on the skirt on the barstool.

Just when I was trying to figure that out, I realized I'd been staring. When I looked back up, she was looking at me instead of the floor. I knew she'd been watching my trying to see, and I just sort of smiled back a "sorry, you got me," kind of look.

"And, no panties for her tonight, no sir, not tonight!" Dan gushed. "You may have to clean off that stool after we're gone!" More laughter, silence from the other three of us.

"It is getting late," I managed to toss in, hoping to end her embarrassment and their visit.

"Gotcha - besides, I've got work to do - a man's work, that is!" More laughter, as he took her hand. She slid off the stool, not giving me any chance of confirming or denying the panties part, and they headed to the door.

That was about it. I saw Dan often, Ronee sometimes (always with Dan), and viewed them as two among numerous married friends, although she was the friend, while Dan was my pilot acquaintance, period. I also knew I'd never see Ronee again without wondering about her lingerie, what might be hidden from view, and whether Dan in fact made good on all his bragging about their sex life. I fantasized that he was a total loss in bed and that she was just stuck in an awful relationship - their two small kids no case for or against that. Then again, humans are surprising when they're not being amazing, so all that was just in my own head, I knew.

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Fast forward a couple of months, and another party, not at our place this time but in a couple's on-base housing, and with Dan not in attendance. He'd been gone for about a month on a short deployment, I think, and was due back in another couple of weeks. Ronee had attended the party along with several other "cruise wives" whose husbands were similarly gone, as was Blaine. I was back at the homeguard between deployments myself, just being a typical young bachelor, trying to get laid with little success, since I didn't speak the local language and had a rational reluctance to do commerce with the professionals who were available.

Toward the end of the evening, I was chatting with Ronee and Kathy and I think maybe Joannie, all cruise wives, about nothing in particular, just cocktail talk stuff. Kathy and Joannie said they needed fresh drinks and headed off to the bar. Ronee turned to me and asked if she could speak with me a minute about something. She was serious, and I said sure, and she led the way down the hallway of the home, and entered a bedroom. I had already noticed that she was in the same blue dress as that other memorable night, and so I was primed to be wondering what was beneath, as in my mind was fully sexually focused - but that was a typical state for horny young me.

I thought nothing of her request, just watching that skirt sway. I did suspect that she and Dan were having some issues and she needed to vent, or something, and was leading me away just to get to a place where we could talk. I followed her into the room, and before I factored just what was happening, she pushed the door shut, wrapped her arms around my neck, and laid a world class kiss on me!

I was flabbergasted, totally taken by surprise, and was trying to mentally catch up as my body and lips and tongue started to cooperate. Coming to my senses, I mightily resisted putting my arms around her. I stepped back and said, "Ronee, you're married, and I'd never think of...."

"Dan is gone, for now. I need this," she said quietly.

"Hey, sorry, I just can't. Not that I don't want to - I just can't," I blathered, fled the room, and exited the party as soon as I could. I drove home, my mind spinning, my dick energized. At home, I got ready for bed, when I heard the knock on the door.

"John? I'm really sorry - can I come in?" I heard her voice say.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," I answered through the locked front door.

"Please?" she persisted, sounding sorrowful.

"Let's just let it go, ok? You miss Dan, I'm sure, and you probably had too much to drink. It'll seem different tomorrow, but for now, let's just leave it. Like it never happened, ok?"

She didn't answer, but I heard her steps fading away as she departed.

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Amazingly, things between Dan and me, and between Ronee and me, didn't seem to change at all after that. Soon after that, Dan came back from his deployment, his tour up. They left the service and I lost track as life continued, for us all.

Fast forward a couple of decades, the squadron had been decommissioned, but some of the guys put together a reunion, sent out invitations, and made it sound pretty good. I ignored it at first - a 10-hour drive to drink with guys I barely recalled didn't light my fire. But, a month later I got another reminder and checked the list of who'd registered. There was Blaine, and a bunch of guys I remembered sharing those crazy days with. Plus, I was due for some kick-back time, my divorce had finalized and details settled, and I figured this might be a good mental health break. So, I went ahead and registered, booked lodging at the reunion venue hotel, and hauled out my trunk of memorabilia, grabbing my old log book and some photos to take along.

I remember noting that Dan's name was not on the list of registrants, and that was fine with me. Seeing him again would remind me of his love of the put-down, and seeing Ronee again could be awkward. Over the years, I'd occasionally reflected back on that party kiss, and was always torn between pride that I hadn't betrayed a squadron mate and regret that I hadn't taken her up on her offer of that and more. She had become, in my memory at least, quite attractive, and I'd imagined just what was in those half cups more than once, not to mention what was under her skirt that night. Then again, she'd probably have forgotten, or repressed out of regret that she'd done it - the way things turned out was likely best all around - keeping the episode just as my sometimes fantasy fodder.

So, I was not expecting to see Dan and Ronee across the room during the welcome reception at the reunion. They were in the line to sign in and get nametags and swag and such. I'd checked in earlier and was just on my way down to the pool, in trunks and beach shirt. Various folks were starting to congregate in small groups, in and out of the hotel. Ronee looked great - still slim and (thanks to my imagination) downright seductive. Dan looked like he'd aged a good bit more than the rest of us, and he was leaning on a cane.

I knew we'd see each other eventually, so to get it done with, I went over to say hello. He and Ronee both turned at my "Hi Dan," and had surprising reactions. Dan lit up noticeably, took a step, leaning on his cane, and gave me a big bro hug! This from the master of the put-down! I hugged back, and said "Good to see you," or something like that.

"Damn, great to see you!" he gushed. "How've you been? I think back on those days and wonder how you ever put up with me!"

"Uh, it wasn't that hard - you were a good stick and taught me well - well enough that I've never lost an aircraft, which I guess is a decent metric," I chuckled back.

"Hey, I was an asshole - I'm just glad I got to figure that out, later in the game than I should have, but anyway - Ronee, look who's here!"

Ronee had been standing by, as usual, and that finally gave me a chance to check her out. There was something different, I wasn't clear on what. She still looked great - still slim and fit looking, same general short hair, same pixie eyes, but with what?, the confidence of realized adulthood, I figured, that hadn't been there before, and it looked good on her. She was wearing a tank top and shorts - that showed a bit of cleavage up top and toned legs below. The old times Ronee never showed cleavage that I'd recalled, and I had definitely recalled, from time to time, remembering that half-cup bra remark.

"Hey, John - good to see you," she said calmly but sincerely as we also hugged and I cheek kissed her. "How've you been, and what have you been doing since we last saw you?"

I filled them in sketchily on my since-squadron history - nothing extraordinary, and asked the same of them.

"We're doing great," Dan volunteered as I continued mostly to look at Ronee. "There was the accident, with this and some pain meds now my pretty constant companions," he said, holding up the cane. "But I'm working in commercial real estate now, and it turns out I'm pretty good at it. Plus, Ronee keeps me out of trouble, and the kids are doing great, too!" I thought, 'what accident?' but let it pass.

I stayed with them as they got registered and we adjourned to get a drink. It was early in the afternoon for drinking, but this was a reunion, after all, so it was fine. We extended the catch-up, and I learned that he had gotten tanked up one night and wrapped his car, fortunately otherwise empty, around a tree. Between that and some other behavior that he didn't go into, he said Ronee had had about enough of his antics and straightened him out in no uncertain terms - become a real man (meaning kind and generous and caring and family-responsible, as well as the hard-working and capable parts he already had going), or hit the road. He, with some outside help as well as hers, took that onboard and changed his ways, and reported that he's damned glad he did. I was thrilled for him and for her, and for humanity in general.

After talking for a while, he said that part of his recovery gave him the excuse to have regular afternoon naps, and I started to excuse myself. He wouldn't have it. "No, no - you and Ronee go meet folks - I'll be back down in an hour or so. In fact, why don't you two take in the pool? Ronee, you come change, and Dan, you grab some chairs, and she'll be right back down!" His cheeriness was off-putting, since I kept half expecting him to revert, say it was all a ruse, and that I was, yet again, his victim. But he seemed sincere, and I wondered just what, if anything, he might know by now of the near-tryst that Ronee and I had back in the day.

He was sort of adamant, so I didn't fight too hard, soon having staked out a couple of chairs in one of the several pools areas, still very public, but separate from where the other folks were gathering and renewing friendships.

Vaguely recalling Ronee being a daiquiri fan, I ordered a couple from the roaming server - specifying the real kind, not those frozen fru-fru things - and they'd just been delivered when Ronee appeared across the patio. I waved and she came over. She had on a knee length beach wrap. I stood up and offered her a chair facing to mine.

"Thanks for joining me," I said, meaning it but just making conversation as I pulled out the chair for her.

"'Glad to do it - oh, is that for me? My favorite!" she exclaimed as I handed her the drink. She took a sip, gave an approving "Mmmm," and set it back down as she stood and unlooped the belt holding the beach wrap.

I probably was obvious, but was trying not to be, as I watched her shed the wrap. As she dropped it onto the chair, I was treated to seeing more of her body than I ever had, and it was just as I'd imagined - trim, not particularly tanned but not pale as such, with great women's hips flaring out from a trim waist (trimmer than a mother of two had a right to be), adorned by a yellow string bikini - not salacious, but salacious for the Ronee I knew back when. A string bikini!

She turned from me to straighten out the wrap in the chair, showing a pretty full coverage back, as full coverage as string bikinis allow, and showing that there was a single tie at rib level, another behind her neck, plus the ones on either hip. Bent over, I checked out her ass even more, and it was indeed fine. When she turned back around, she leaned forward for a moment as she sat down, and it seemed her breasts almost fell free from the top, but no such luck. Once seated, she demurely crossed her legs, took her glass in hand, and had another sip, watching me across the glass rim.

"Damn, Ronee... "

"What, too much?" she asked.

"No, no.... just, uh,... right," I managed, looking around to see if some other squadron folks were watching. Suddenly I realized I was a bachelor, off to the side with a married woman, her in a revealing bikini, we two having a drink and a talk that could have been construed all over the place. "It's just, ah, Dan's not here, and, uh, you're gorgeous as always, but I'm seeing a lot more of you than, ah, may be appropriate in, uh, this setting."

"Gorgeous as always? That's news to me. I remember your pushing me away when I made what was no doubt an ill-advised offer back then. I figured you just weren't interested. And now I'm gorgeous?"

"Come on, Ronee - you've got to know I was always smitten - but there were rules - there are rules - about messing around with a squadron mate's wife. I was determined not to cross that line then, and, well, I realize you're not offering now, but my imagination is all over the inappropriate place, seeing you in that suit."

"I'm flattered that you'd even remember - that whole episode took what, 2 minutes? But now, what if I were offering?"

"Yeah, well, if - I guess the answer would have to be the same, but I've got to admit, with the same regret, and that regret was considerable."

Ronee looked at me, saying nothing at first, then she turned sort of sideways in the chair, shoulders arched back, raising a hip toward me, giving me a pin-up style side shot of her chest profile, and looking at me across her shoulder, said, "OK, but, for the record, do you like the suit?"

"The suit is breathtaking. What it teases beneath it even moreso."

"Am I a tease?" she asked, her eyes laughing at me.

"Yes, world class."

"Well, thank you for being so gentlemanly about it, and you may find that rules aren't quite what you think. This is a new century and a new world since then," she said, and took another drink of her daiquiri. She could make taking a sip out of a glass a full-on seduction invitation, or so I construed.

"So how's Dan doing? I'm sorry he has to use that cane and rest up. You folks okay?" I asked.

"Ah, Dan. He's a different person from the one you knew. The accident was really a wake-up call to him, and he still feels badly about how he used to be - The Joker and all that. He's really sweet, and we're both a lot happier for the change."