I'm not sure I can write this down. I'm not sure I should. The whole thing still seems like a bad dream. The worst part is I enjoyed it. Logically I should be beating the living crap out of somebody, not that assault and battery would solve anything. The problem is who should I go after, him for instigating the whole thing, her for wanting it, or myself for all the pleasure I got from it. The truth is we're all guilty.
It all began innocently enough. Kelli and I had met at the restaurant for dinner after we got off work. We usually went out Friday nights, and this particular Friday evening started like most others. I got there first and ordered drinks in the bar for both of us. She arrived five minutes later. I stood up to kiss her, and we sat down. As usual, we reviewed our respective workdays. She was recounting a session with a difficult customer when we heard a male voice from my right, her left, "Kelli? Kelli Marsden?"
We both looked toward the voice. A man about our ages was studying us. "That was my maiden name," she said.
"You don't remember me?" he asked.
"You look familiar," she said slowly.
"Senior English. We read MacBeth aloud. You ready Lady MacBeth's lines."
"Right." She still had a puzzled expression.
"I read MacBeth. I ad-libbed a couple lines. The class loved them, but Mr. Lowe wasn't too pleased."
"Skip Adams!" she screamed as she jumped up and hugged him. "I haven't see you since graduation! How are you? You look great."
"I'm doing okay. I have two boys now, six and three. And a wife, of course. What about you?"
"This is my husband, Ron." I stood up and shook his hand.
"Any kids?" Skip asked.
"Not yet," I said.
"I'm sure you're working on it," he said with a slight leer. "What's it been since I last saw you? Ten years?"
"Eleven," she said. "How did you happen to be here?"
"I'm visiting my folks this weekend. Linda's home with the boys. They aren't expecting me until tomorrow morning, so I thought I'd have dinner before calling them and telling them I arrived early."
"I would love to meet your family. We have so much to talk about. I want to hear all about your boys and what you're doing." She looked at me. "Maybe you could join us for dinner?"
I'm generally not a suspicious person, but something told me I should object to having him join us. There wasn't anything concrete I could attach that feeling to, but still I was uneasy. Kelli had mentioned Skip a few times during the years we had been married. Nothing that she had said about him sounded objectionable. "Yes," I said, "your paths may not cross again for another eleven years."
"I don't want to intrude," Skip said.
"Nonsense," I said. "I'll change our reservation to a table for three. I'll be right back."
I went to the hostess station to add the third person to our party. That added a half to our waiting time. The only thing available was a booth. Kelli and I had had a lot of fun before in the booths at that restaurant. The tablecloths hung down to our laps, thus hiding any playing around we might do. Many times she had jacked me off into a napkin while we waited for our orders. I had played with her clit with my fingertips bringing her to shuddering orgasms. We clamped our mouths together to avoid making too much noise when we climaxed.
When I returned to our table in the bar, Kelli had her hands folded together on the tabletop, and Skip's hands were over hers. I paused a moment to observe. They were talking in a highly animated manner. Kelli was laughing when I sat down. She instantly pulled her hands back from under his without interrupting her laughter. "Did I miss something?" I asked.
