The tension in the air was so thick it was like being under water. My eyes were fixed on the road and my hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white. I was furious. Furious at my wife and she was just as angry with me. We were on our way to a party at a friend's house and both of us sat silently; too angry to talk, because if we did, it would only lead to further words that could not be taken back.
In the whole eight years of our marriage I don't think I have ever been so angry with her. We had started arguing as we were getting dressed when I saw the dress she was putting on.
"Jesus Christ, Linda, why don't you just go naked."
"What are you complaining about, what's wrong with this?"
"Why don't you just hang a sign on your back that says 'Sex for Sale'."
"Are you saying that I look like a call girl?"
"No, I'm saying that you look like a $20.00 whore."
She was wearing next to nothing, no bra and just a thong, tenuously concealed only by a Lycra tube that barely covered the area between the top of her bosom and the bottom of her ass. The whole outfit, except for her shoes, could fit into a space covered by my two hands. Don't get me wrong, she has the figure to get away with this dress. It looked great on her but it also gave the impression that she was an easy lay.
"Look," I said, "we don't know these people all that well and we don't know their friends at all. If you go looking like that there will be a dozen guys hitting on you in the first half hour we are there."
"So what, guys hit on me all the time, surely you know I have never cheated?"
That was part of the problem, I didn't know. For the past year and a half I have had my suspicions but I never acted on them. I never caught her in a lie, never had her followed, never had any proof that she was unfaithful. I just had my doubts and maybe that was worse. So I never answered her question.
She repeated it and again I didn't answer.
"You son of a bitch," she shrilled, "you think I am fucking around? You think I am a slut or a whore? Well then maybe tonight you will get to see what you think I really am!"
With that she picked her purse and left me in the bedroom. When I got downstairs she was already in the car and I could feel the frost in the air. She was pissed off at me for what I didn't say about her and I was pissed off because she wasn't about to change what she was wearing. Not one word was passed between us until we reached our destination.
The street was pretty well filled with cars when we got there and I had to park a few houses down. "Are we going in," I asked?
"You wouldn't want to miss this," was her defiant reply as she strode ahead of me. I saw her pulling down the hem of her dress as it kept riding up on her ass. I wondered how many times she would have to do that tonight or if she even would.
We walked through the house to the backyard and onto the slightly elevated patio. It was a well lighted stage and Linda just stood there for a moment, the babble of the thirty or so people there seemed to fade away as heads turned to take in the sight of her and then it resumed.
Our hosts, Fay and Don Sibelius came to greet us, Fay gushing, "Linda you are stunning, I never saw you looking so good."
Don following with, "You are going to be the talk of the party."
Fay, after giving me a peck on the cheek, grabbed Linda's arm and saying, "Come with me there's some people I want you to meet," led her across the lawn to a group of women.
Don, shrugging, said to me, "Let's get you a drink."
He then dropped me off with a couple of guys whose only interest in life was the current pennant race between the Yankees and the Red Sox. I looked around and I saw Linda surrounded by a gaggle of women. An hour later the women had been exchanged for men and it was obvious she was eating up the attention. For the next hour and a half I lost track of her and it wasn't until the drinking got to me and I had to answer a piss call that I found what she was up to.
The downstairs john was occupied so I went upstairs and I had to wait there also. While I was waiting two guys passed me on their way downstairs, one said to the other, "She looked like a slut when she walked in, now we know that she really is."
That piqued my interest and after I finally took my piss I went further down the hall and looked into the bedroom. I saw her. I saw Linda, on all fours, on a bed, getting fucked from behind.
A big guy had his hands on her hips and with every thrust she gave a grunt. Her eyes were closed and as her body rocked with his thrusts, her naked hanging tits swayed every time he bottomed out. Her dress was bunched around her waist like a wide belt. I could see her ass rippling as his groin smacked against it with a sound like she was getting a spanking. She didn't even look like she was enjoying it; the look on her face was more of determination than joy.
I stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost, until he dropped his load inside of her and gave huge groan. I couldn't tell if he was fucking her ass or her cunt but she never gave any indication that she climaxed. I started applauding the performance in a very slow steady rhythm. Her eyes flew open and at first she looked shocked and frightened and that changed to a look that challenged me when she recognized who it was.
The guy said to me, "OK pal, you can have her. She drained me, I'm finished with her."
To which I replied, "No thanks, I'm finished with her too."
Then I turned and headed home. As I went down the stairs I heard her calling, "Jerry....wait.....it's not....."
I never heard the end of the sentence. I was out the door, in the car and down the street in thirty seconds flat. I must have left a half inch of rubber on the street behind me. If I was angry before we got there, I can't even describe the fury that filled me now. I had to pull over and stop for a few minutes because I couldn't see for the tears that filled my eyes.
I loved this woman; she is my wife, the woman I wanted to grow old with. So we had an argument, everybody does at one time or another. But to fuck someone, a stranger, at a party, with me there, what did she think would happen? Did she hate me that much? My mind was going round and round, it's a wonder I didn't have an accident. My concentration was on everything else but my driving. But I made it home, my thoughts still in turmoil and the telephone was ringing off the hook. It was Linda. I wasn't going to answer, let the answer machine take it.
"God damn it Jerry where are you. You ran off and left me here. Come back and bring me home."
Next call after about fifteen or twenty minutes. "Answer the phone, I know you are there. Come and get me."
Next call. "Damn it Jerry, pick up."
Next call. "Jerry, please come and get me. I can't get a cab."
Next call. "Jerry, I'm sorry, please come and get me."
At about 2am I heard her key in the door and I heard her heels on the floor as crossed the hallway. She already had her foot on the first step when she saw the light in the family room, then I heard her enter where I was waiting.
"Why did you leave me there like that?" was her accusation. Then she saw the look on my face.
"I.....I guess I messed things up tonight." she continued contritely.
"Big time." was my answer.
"Jerry, I never......"
"Not tonight Linda. Things were said tonight and things were done tonight that never should have happened. We'll talk about this tomorrow and for many days to come before we finished, before we are divorced."
"Divorced? I don't......"
"Linda, not tonight. Go to bed."
We went upstairs and I got into the bathroom first and then into bed, she soon followed and turned back the cover on her side. I stopped her cold.
