My wife has just gotten a tattoo. It is an angel and is on her back/neck, just under her hairline. It's pretty cute and looks good on her.
Why is this noteworthy? Well, in all the time I've known her she's never even intimated that she wanted one. Three of our children have tattoos, one doesn't. I don't and probably never will. I am 40 years old and getting a tattoo smacks of mid-life crisis to me.
Mary is the same age as me and we have been married for almost twenty years. We have four children, two of each. The eldest was born before we were married; she is 21. Her sister is 19. The boys have just turned 18; yes, they are twins.
My wife is still an astonishingly beautiful woman. She is tall, about 5' 11" and has kept her lean figure despite having four children. Everything isn't as tight as it once was but she carries herself well. I think this is half the battle for women (and men) in their forties.
She has long brown hair and green eyes. They flash with humour most of the time. Just don't make her angry. She has quite a temper. She breasts are about 36 D depending how her weight is at the time. Sometimes they are a bit bigger, other times, smaller. I don't understand her physiology. I just know this is how it is.
She is the Office Manager at the local sawmill. Her boss recently headhunted her. She used to work as a secretary for a mechanic. Her new boss took his car there for servicing and saw how competent she was. He needed someone to manage his office and she was the one.
There are only two women at the sawmill. Julie is the administration assistant (secretary) while Mary manages things. Her boss, Tony, is a large black man who worked his way up from the sawmill floor to the top job. This way he knew everything there was to know about the mill and had some innovative ideas. Mary really enjoyed working there.
She decided that she wanted another tattoo. She had her star sign, a lion, inked onto her upper right arm. Not long after that she came home with a unicorn on her left bicep.
I spoke to her about her tattoos. "You seem hooked, Mary. When is it going to stop? And why the sudden interest?"
"Well, my boss Tony is covered in tattoos and he has talked to me about them and how much he loves them. Most of the guys at the mill have them too, and they all have more than one. I just think they are as sexy as hell. Don't you like them?"
"It's not whether I like them or not. It's more that I'm wondering why now? You've never even mentioned them before."
I tried to assure her that I didn't mind either way, and that I was just wondering where the idea came from. She took it to mean that I was having a go at her for her new ink. She seemed to carry her anger for the next few days.
Then she came home with a 'tramp stamp' across her lower back. It was a native rose and looked spectacular. I told her that I liked it. She looked at me as if I had two heads.
"What, you mean I have your permission to have another tattoo? Like I would wait for you to approve anyway."
"Mary, no, I really like it. Why are you making this an argument? Can't I even like your tattoos now?"
She ignored me and the heat level in the house dropped another few degrees.
I thought about her reaction. It was out of character for her and it looked like this was about something else. I thought about what she had said about her boss. She was really enthusiastic when she was talking about his tattoos. Maybe she had seen more of them than I thought.
I decided to take a little more notice of how she was behaving. It seemed to me that she was dressing a little better than she had been. She was wearing more skirts and dresses to work. Her make-up looked more carefully done than before too. Also, she always put perfume on for work. This was a recent thing too.
I was beginning to feel uneasy about everything. The straw that broke the camel's back was her latest tattoo. It was a design on her chest that included some ink on the tops of both her breasts. She showed me this new abstract design. I looked at it and really liked it. As I looked away a small black mark on her left breast caught my eye. I didn't register what it was as it was incorporated into the rest of the design.
I knew she wouldn't let me get close to it again so I thought I would be a little sneaky about seeing what it was. That night I decided to go to bed late. Mary was already asleep when I got to the bedroom. Here was my chance. She was wearing a nightgown that buttoned up the front. The top couple of buttons were undone. I looked at the new tattoo but didn't see the black mark I saw earlier. I carefully undid another button and then I saw it. It was a queen of spades.
I felt sick. I knew what that meant, that she was a queen for black dick. What was I going to do? Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep.
The next morning I looked through the phone book for a Private Investigator. I rang one who could see me that morning. I told him my tale of woe and my suspicions. He asked me a few questions and asked for a thousand dollar retainer. He would follow her for a week and we would meet at the same time in seven days.
Have you got any idea how difficult it is to pretend to live normally when you suspect your wife of infidelity? Let me tell you it's not easy. I was certain that Mary knew what I suspected just by the way I behaved.
