Bad Arma in Cancun

Chapter One:

It was a Thursday night in February. My wife and I were in Cancun having been there only a few hours since our arrival that afternoon. We were drinking and dancing at a nightspot, enjoying the beginning of a short but free vacation provided by my company. To my dismay, I looked up and saw a guy from our Atlanta offices walk through the nightclub door. I knew him but I didn't work directly with him because I was located in the Chattanooga offices. However, we had met this guy at a company gathering in Atlanta two months before and I particularly remembered him because he had asked my wife to dance with him several times at that event. I wouldn't have minded, but he occupied her time so much that I had to insist on having the last dance with my wife that night.

After he entered, he went to the bar and ordered a drink. Frankly, I was hoping he wouldn't notice us or try to join us because I didn't care for him and I didn't want to discuss business while we were on vacation. However, it wasn't long before he spotted us and came over.

"What are you two doing down here," he asked.

"I might ask the same of you, Darrell," I responded.

"And I see you're with my favorite dance partner," he said. "Hello again, Lorene."

"Hello," my wife replied. "Why don't you join us." I was incensed by her quickness to invite him to our table. Without hesitation, he pulled up a chair on the other side of my wife.

During our conversation, Darrell informed me that he had won his trip from our company and he had chosen to come to Cancun. As he talked, I could tell that he was very smooth and self-assured. Lorene listened to him with her eyes riveted to his.

At one point I commented that it seemed remarkable that we both had won trips and that we both chose to come to Cancun at the same time. After all, there were several possible destinations and the dates were also available as choices.

Lorene appeared to be uncomfortable with my remark, but Darrell just brushed aside my comments and continued to tell Lorene how good it was to see her again. He then asked her if she would like to dance, and she immediately got up and left with him without asking me if it was okay. That in itself was also rather strange. If nothing else, Lorene had always been polite and very politically correct, and she had always asked me if it would be okay before.

I must tell you at this point that Darrell is single, a big guy, and I mean big. His 6'8" frame dwarfed my wife, and his hands looked like something that should be hanging on a meat hook in a locker somewhere. I, on the other hand, am only 5'11" and weigh about half of what he weighs. Lorene is average height at 5'3" and her red hair is cut short. I had always joked that we were a perfect fit. By contrast, she looked so out-of-place with Darrell that I had to smile. I shouldn't have.

We talked and drank for the next couple of hours, during which Darrell danced with Lorene several times. I was beginning to resent sitting alone at the table, while my wife was snuggled up to a big guy on the dance floor. Besides, I suspected that they were being far too cozy when I couldn't see them. Each time they returned to the table, Lorene was all giggly and acting like a schoolgirl on her first date.

Finally, I decided that I should be dancing with Lorene, too, so I invited her to dance with me. We left Darrell to watch our fresh drinks and she took my hand and followed me to the dance floor. It was a slow number so I held her closely and mentioned the coincidence of meeting up with Darrell, so far from home in such a remote place. She seemed irritated that I had brought it up again, and commented that it was just a fluke.

When we finished the dance, I noticed that Darrell had bought another round for all of us. I finished the one I had left, then moved on to drink the one Darrell had bought. As I was drinking it I began to feel unusual in a sickening sort of way. I can hold my liquor up to a point but this didn't feel the same as being drunk. I commented on how I felt and told them that I thought I had gotten hold of some rotten booze. Then I told them that I needed to head for our room before I puked my guts out. Lorene got up to help me and Darrell said, "Here, let me help, Lorene. I'm more able to handle him than you, just in case he passes out."

Putting his arm around my shoulder and his hand under my left arm, Darrell helped me to the elevator and then to our room. He walked me inside and I told him I wanted to sit in one of the chairs in our hotel sitting room to get my bearings. He deposited me in a chair and then just stood there.

Before I could say, "Thanks, Darrell, now go away," Lorene offered him a nightcap and he accepted. There she went again ... entertaining someone I didn't care for. I sat there, getting more groggy by the minute, looking on as they both sipped their drinks, made unintelligible small talk and glanced at me from time to time. I could not understand all that they were saying and it seemed like they were going on forever. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I didn't want to go to sleep with Darrell in the room, so I sat there with my eyes either closed or at half-mast.

After a while, they both stood up. I thought Darrell was leaving. Instead, he walked toward my wife and took her in his arms and hugged her. I tried to focus on the sight before me and, at first, it seemed that Lorene didn't respond, but then Lorene's arms went around his neck and he bent down to kiss her. I was stunned but could not say or do anything. I knew something wasn't right with what I was seeing through my blurred, off-again-on-again vision but I could not physically or verbally respond to my own thoughts. Darrell was saying something to her and then they looked at me. Suddenly Lorene began to walk Darrell toward the bedroom. I tried to move but I couldn't, so I sat there helplessly as they left the room I was in.

All I could do was ask myself, "What the hell is going on? Why is my wife leading him to our bedroom? What's the matter with me?" I knew enough to know that I needed to do something, but I could not. With those final thoughts, I passed out completely.

Hours later, I awakened. Still feeling awkward and groggy, I managed to get out of the chair. The lights in the sitting room were turned off, but there was a small lamp on in the bedroom. It took me a few minutes to maneuver my feet and my body over to the bed, but when I got there I saw Lorene sleeping naked and alone. I could tell that she had not been alone long, however, because when I sat on the bed I found that my side was still warm and damp. I was having difficulty sorting out what I was seeing and feeling, and what I was trying to remember that I had seen last night before I had passed out.

As I sat there, Lorene was sleeping so soundly that she was snoring. She was totally unaware of my presence. Still feeling the effects of my hangover, I simply lay down on my back, fully clothed, and succumbed to my desire to sleep again.

Around 1:30 PM Friday, I awakened to find that I was alone. I went to the kitchenette and got a big drink to wash the cotton out of my mouth. Then I headed for the shower. The cold water helped to clear my head a bit, but I knew I needed something stronger.

Once I began to think more clearly, I realized that Lorene must be with Darrell, so I called the front desk and asked them to connect me to his room.

"Thank you," the operator said, and she connected me.

Darrell answered and I said, "Put my wife on the phone."

"Why do you think she is here," he asked?

"Don't play stupid with me, Darrell. You spent most of the night here. She doesn't know anyone on Cancun, so where else would she go this morning after she left here?"

There was an extended pause, and then Lorene said, "Yes?"

"What the hell is going on, Lorene?"

"I'll be down in a little while. We'll talk about it then," she responded.

"For your information, this vacation is over, Lorene. Get your whoring ass down here and start packing your bags. We are leaving on the first flight out of here," I told her, and I hung up the phone without giving her a chance to respond.

I immediately got on the telephone and switched our tickets for a First Class flight back home. We were to leave at 8:13 PM that evening, and we would not arrive until the next afternoon.

I got all my stuff packed and set my bags by the door in about 15 minutes, but Lorene didn't show up for another 45 minutes. When she did show, I could tell that she had either been wrestling or she had not hung up her clothing during her time with Darrell. Her blouse was quite a mess, and the crotch of her shorts looked damp.

"Look at you," I yelled, and I ranted and raved, as much as my headache would allow. She pretty much ignored me and then she excused herself, telling me that she needed to shower and get ready to leave.

I decided to go to the restaurant, so I left and went down alone. I was glad she didn't come because the whole time would have been unpleasant for both of us.

I sat in the restaurant for over an hour eating and trying to sort out what I was going through. I was still was so stunned by it all that I honestly did not know how to handle what I knew had happened. All I saw was the kiss and the disheveled bed, and that's not enough evidence to dump a wife.

After eating, and drinking almost a whole pot of coffee, I decided I didn't want to be around Lorene until we had to leave for the airport. I had a couple of hours to kill before we left, so I decided to take a walk through the island shops along the beach to kill time while I was trying to clear my head even more. I still felt like crap and I knew it would be some time before I felt normal again. All I could assume was that I had been drugged or had drunk some bad liquor because I'd never felt anything like this before. Whatever it was that hit me had reduced my capacity to function last night to zero.

All too quickly, it was time to go back to the room, settle my account at the hotel, call a cab and get to the airport. I really didn't want to face Lorene again. As I walked down the hallway to our room, I felt the foreboding sense that my troubles were not over. I inserted my key in the door, heard the click, and opened it. There were all our suitcases stacked by the door, ready to go. I called to Lorene and told her that we needed to get everything ready for the service people to take to the cab. No one responded, but I heard something and walked toward the bedroom to find out what it was. There before me was my wife on her hands and knees with Darrell plowing into her from behind. Both of them looked at me as if I was totally unimportant to them. Seconds later Darrell finished but he held himself in her for a while longer.

In the meantime I was yelling at him, telling him to get the hell out and leave my wife alone. He simply said, "Too late, my friend." as he zipped his pants, pushed me out of the way and walked to the door.

I turned to Lorene and said, "Clean up, slut, and get your ass out to the cab in 15 minutes. I will send up the Bellhop for our luggage. Try to restrain yourself and don't screw him when he shows up." She never responded as she pulled up her panties and straightened her skirt.

I settled the hotel charges, called a cab, and told the Bellhop to get our luggage to the cab. After I tipped him, we got into the cab. The ride to the airport was quiet except for the jabbering islander who finally asked us if we enjoyed ourselves. I responded, "One of us did." And that was all that either of us said from that point on. Lorene sat looking out the window on her side for the entire trip. I thought I detected sadness in her eyes, but I was still fuming inside and didn't care that she might be sad about leaving her lover so soon.

Chapter Two:

We arrived in Chattanooga on Saturday afternoon. The shuttle bus took us directly to our home from the Nashville airport.

It was uncomfortable around our house during our first few days. I had no desire to talk to her, touch her, or to kiss her as I left for work. It was difficult to look at her without becoming angry. Pretending that things were getting back to normal wasn't working. So many pieces of the puzzle did not fit.

I had thought that our married life had been well above the normal. We were happy, wealthy, excited about the future and looking forward to raising our son. She was a wonderful homemaker and mother, and our friends were some of the most influencial people in Chattanooga. We had the good life and everything was moving upward. Even our sex life was seemingly perfect. What had driven her to do what she did in Cancun?

As I was mulling over our lives together, I remembered a time when I had mentioned a fantasy about seeing her with another man. Surely that wasn't what provoked what happened. That was years ago, and we had not discussed it since because she had been so repulsed by it. No, that surely isn't why she did it.

However, as I dwelled on happenings of the last week, my sense of logic kept telling me that it was not coincidental that the three of us showed up in Cancun at the same time. To me it was as unlikely as winning the lottery. It had to have been planned, but how, and when? I knew she had made no trips to Atlanta in the last couple of months, so I decided to check our telephone bills.

Lorene has always been the one who pays all our household bills and she pays everything on line, so I used my office PC to check our accounts for the most recent telephone calls. That wasn't difficult since we use the same cellular company for both of our cellulars. We also use the same password on everything around home, including everything from our computers to our automatic garage door keypad.

I found that there was one call for Atlanta Information on her personal cell phone bill, and several lengthy calls to what I later determined to be his office in Atlanta. These all occurred during the month of January. To me, that confirmed that they had planned to meet during our vacation trip. Then, to my chagrin, I also found that she had called him a couple of times since returning from Cancun. Now I was convinced that it was no longer a one-time fling, and that she was planning another get-together.

Another item of concern was whether or not Darrell had actually won the trip, as he said, or had he just taken personal time off to meet us at Lorene's request? It was a moot point really, but I wanted to check it out anyhow. With the number of contacts I had in the Atlanta HR office, one of which owed me a favor, it did not take any time at all to learn that he had indeed taken vacation days to cover the time we were there. So that verified that he didn't actually win the trip. That was the last question that I wanted to clear up for now. I had many others but they would be discussed later.

As I reflected on Lorene's betrayal, I was still stunned by her brazenness and callous disregard for me and my feelings. That really ate at my gut. If Lorene intended for it to happen, I wonder if I could have dissuaded her. Remembering her actions on our last day, when she made me wait while Darrell emptied himself into her one more time before her trip home, I doubted that I could have stopped her. She was obviously more concerned with pleasing him than me.

Then there was Darrell. Had I been physically able to even try to stop them I may have had to fight with Darrell, who was far superior to me in weight and strength. It would have been no contest. Some may say that I lost the battle by default, but I'm beginning to think that I may be lucky to still be alive.

I finally determined that I would waste my time being ashamed of the past. My primary thoughts now are of settling the score somehow with Lorene. After all, the fact that she initiated the telephone calls to Atlanta during the month of January convinced me that she was the one who perpetrated this humiliation upon me. Additionally, she had made me a nonentity during the time she spent with Darrell, and I intended to make her regret that.

Where would I start the wheels of revenge rolling? Why at home, of course. I had to maintain a façade that evrything was okay. After all, friends would be asking questions about our trip and on my part I wanted to present a united front and work hard to hide my bitterness toward her, especially in front of others. That would serve me well later on. I wondered how Lorene would handle their questions about our trip since she had spent the majority of her time in bed with Darrell!

Next, I needed a plan. A simple divorce would not give me enough satisfaction at this point, so I asked myself, "To what extremes do I want to go? Do I want to see her dead, or just see her suffer?" It took me a full day of debating with myself to decide which because I truly would not have minded seeing her dead. In the end, however, I decided that making her suffer would be the better choice.

During the next few days I tried to make life more livable in our house. During the day I would leave for work early and come home late, as I had always done. For the weekend, I planned and took her out to dinner with friends on Saturday night. Conversing was not easy for her and I but we enjoyed a wonderful dinner and conversation together with our friends, and they served as a buffer between Lorene and me.

I had decided to have a talk with Lorene that evening at home. I planned to lay it all out for her. So, after we returned home from the dinner, I stopped her from going straight to the bedroom and asked if we could talk. She agreed, but her body language told me that she dreaded it. I paid the babysitter and she left. Lorene then sat on the love seat, took off her shoes and curled her legs under her. I poured two glasses of wine, handed one to her and sat down in a chair opposite the love seat.

"So, what's on your mind?" she asked, as if she already knew the answer.

The way she asked her question irritated me, but I calmly stated, "Let me leave you with no doubts, Lorene, I now know that you and Darrell planned to meet at the resort, and I know that you initiated the calls to make it happen. Also, I know that you have called him since our return. Now that I've exposed a few of your secrets, ...."

"You're spying on me now?" she interjected sarcastically.

I didn't even bother to respond and continued calmly. "I just have a few questions to ask you, if you don't mind. I know things have been very uncomfortable this week and I haven't handled them as well as you may have thought I should."

"Remember," she said rather defiantly, "it was originally your idea."

"What are you talking about," I shot back.

She said rather spitefully, "You're the one who said you wanted to see me with another man."

"You must be kidding me!" I exclaimed. "You acted upon that fantasy from years ago, a fantasy that repulsed you then?"

"Are you saying you didn't mean it," she asked?

"Okay. I accept that I shared a fantasy a long time ago, but you and I both know that it was merely a fantasy. However, if you remotely thought that I was serious, why did you choose to hide your plan from me? Why didn't you discuss it with me before we went to Cancun?"

"Because I wondered if you would still allow me to do it," she said softly.

"So, you admit that you had seriously questioned how I felt about it, but you did it anyhow with total disregard for my feelings!"

Looking down at her wine glass she responded, "I thought if you didn't feel that way that you would stop us, but I didn't know Darrell was going to do what he did to incapacitate you."

"Yeah, that's another thing I want to know," I responded. What did Darrell do to me?""

"I'm really sorry about what that did to you, but he said that he had to put something in your drink to make you more relaxed. He said you would be all right, so I shouldn't worry," she told me.