It Started With That Talk

When Susan walked into the kitchen that morning just before 9am, I knew something was wrong. After 20 years of marriage, we'd both been 23 when we married, there are certain signs that you can pick up on. But I had never seen her looking quite so... anxious and pensive.

"Dave," she said: "I... I... have something to say. I know you are not going to like it, but I have to say it, anyway."

I noticed that she could not look me in the eye. My stomach did a flip. "What's wrong, Sue? You aren't ill, are you?"

"NO!" She startled me by yelling. "No... I am not ill. Though when I say what I have to say to you, you might think otherwise. I... am going to go away and take a lover for three days, starting today."

"What the FUCK?" Now it was her turn to jump. "Are you going to leave me?" I was starting to panic, this couldn't be happening! Could it?

"No," she said, "I knew you'd think that, but that's not what I said. I am going to take a lover for three days, then I am going to come back to you and we can continue as we have always done, as husband and wife."

"Shit, Susan!" I said, as I staggered and sat heavily on a chair by our kitchen table. "You have really shocked me; you have sprung this on me. You are going to do this today? Now? Why? Why not give me some warning as to your plans for this... this... affair?"

"Because I knew it would upset you and that you'd try to beg and plead with me to stay, to not go. And I couldn't stand to see you humiliate yourself like that; because there's no way that I wanted that to happen. It would lessen my respect for you."

'Respect? What respect?' I thought. I turned and looked at her. 'Fuck! Fuck it to Hell! It... I mean... she... looks like my wife... but... was she my wife? I mean... just who the fuck was this strange woman standing in my kitchen?'

Apparently I had failed to sub-vocalise that thought. She replied: "Oh, Dave, I can assure you I am your wife, your loving wife Susan, the mother of our daughter, Sandi-Sue, but this is just something I have to do for me. It has nothing to do with us, what we have together. Please try to believe that! Please try to understand!"

What was there to understand? My wife planned to cheat on me. Was going to cheat on me. I was starting to feel sick.

"Susan, please do not do this to... us... to... yourself."

"I am sorry, Dave, but my mind is already made up. When I get back... we'll talk and we will work out how I can make you feel better about this situation that I have dumped on you. I know it is not fair on you. But... I will make it up to you, I promise. When I get back, we will have the hottest sex session in our lives. Honestly." She nodded, empathically. As if sex would somehow magically fix her betrayal.

"Oh, we will, will we?" I asked her, my shock now becoming tinged with anger. "You do realise that we will not be able to have sex when you return?"

"Why ever not?" she replied, looking shocked.

"Not until you can produce a certificate that you are clear of STDs and of HIV!" I responded.

"What?" Now she seemed to be scandalised. "What kind of a woman do you think I am?" She sounded as if she were getting angry.

"The kind of woman who goes off and sleeps with men other than her husband," I replied. I had meant to make my remark sound angry, but to my surprise it came out as flat and defeated.

She looked at me, a sudden expression of sympathy on her face. She stroked my right check with her right hand. "Oh, Dave, I am so very, very sorry. You must feel so awful! So confused and upset, right now. I must admit I feel the same way, too. But it is something that I must do for me, and also, I hope that you will eventually see, it will be something for us, too. It'll work out for the best. You'll see."

I ignored her last fatuous remark; I looked at her, hard. "Who is it? Do I know him?"

She shook her head slightly. "Best you don't know," she said.

Shit. That meant that not only did I know him, that I must know him, and reasonably well, too. But who was it? Who could it be? Who would be a big a shit as to help Susan risk our marriage like this?

She walked towards the kitchen door, opened it and stepped out into the yard, she looked back and said: "I'll be back home in three days. And that's a promise. I... I am really so very, very sorry about this, you know. I love you."

She walked through the door, closing it softly.

I said quietly: "I love you, too, Susan," but she could not have heard me through the closed door.

I sat at the kitchen table. She was so sure of herself. So certain! But I knew that this was going to end badly. Shit? How could it end other than badly?

I thought: 'How in the hell could this have happened? What could be worse than this?'

There had been a cartoon on TV years back, when I was a kid. Some dreadful event would befall the hero and he'd say: "What could be worse than this?" And then, something worse would happen to him, then something even worse, before everything would be resolved to his satisfaction at the end of the show.

Before the end of that day, actually before the end of that morning, really, I would learn that things would become much worse and that the impact of Susan's actions would have far-reaching repercussions that nobody, not even Susan, could have predicted, or foreseen. And there would be no cartoon fantasy happy ending to this story...

Well under an hour later, my mobile went off. I grabbed it, hoping that it was Susan. Perhaps she'd changed her mind? Perhaps she... But then I saw that it was a call from Steve. My best friend, Steve! We'd known each other since we were six years old. Our wives were best friends, too! We'd even got married at the same time and been each other's best man! I could ask Steve for advice! He was a psychologist! I knew I'd value his input on this situation.

But when I answered the call, Steve was whispering. I could hear a woman moaning in the background. "Hi, Dave, old buddy! Thought I'd best give you a call. It's about Susan. Susan doesn't know I am calling you, by the way. That noise you can hear? That's me fucking Susan, your wife! Wow! She's hot! Can't think why I never thought of doing this before! Hey! Just in case you think this is all just some sick joke, soon I'll send you some hot High Definition video of me and Susan 'playing' together. Of course, she doesn't know I am recording this little fuckfest!

"Oh, by the way, we aren't at my place, so don't bother to come calling on us! Bye!"

I shouted, but he'd terminated the call.

I trembled when I thought of the video he would send. Dare I watch it? But then again, dare I not? What should I do?

Suddenly, I remembered that, through the company I owned, I had access to all the legal advice that I would require. Bill Wilkes was my company's attorney and he was on contract to my firm to provide legal counsel as and when required. Well, this was as and when, as far as I was concerned.

He answered his phone almost straight away. Other people used hired help to answer their direct lime phone, or let it ring a few times to let their caller see how important they felt they were. But Bill didn't. He answered his direct line almost before the phone had rung once.

"Bill Wilkes Legal. How may I help?"

I managed to croak out: "Bill? This is me, Dave Summers. Bill, I need your help. Something dreadful is happening and I don't know what to do!" I was almost hysterical at this point.

He asked me to tell him what had happened. When I told him and advised him that I was waiting for a video of their tryst he said: "I find this so... dreadful... so utterly heinous! I have acted in cases of marital infidelity before but never in a case such as this. It's unique in my experience. But what I can't quite understand is that Steve is supposed to be your best friend? You have known each other since you were five or six? So how in the Hell could this have happened?"

"I don't know, Bill. This whole thing has blindsided me. What should I do?"

He paused for a moment, before responding. "Wait 'til the video arrives, then watch it, but send me a copy as soon as it arrives. I'll watch it and determine what responses you should make and when you should make them. It's early on day one of their three day... event. Today is Wednesday; we have almost three full days for a plan of action to be formulated, before the weekend."

Half an hour later, the email with the video file attached arrived. It bore the subject line: "Sorry, Dave! But the real best man has his way!"

I checked the file for viruses and downloaded it to my computer and quickly forwarded a copy to Bill.

I watched the video. It was very high definition, with stereo surround sound, too.

They were in bed together, fucking. "Hey, Susan!" Shouted Steve. "How am I doing?" "Oh, God, Steve, you are such a fantastic lover!" "Am I better than Dave?" "Oh, much, much better! You are by far the better lover!"

'Thanks, Susan, you fucking bitch', I thought as I watched my marriage being fucked away, second by second.

"Say, Susan, has Davie ever tried this?" "Oh, shit! No! That's incredible! Your cock and your hand in my cunt at the same time! Oh, Dave has never tried anything like that! He 'respects' me too much!" Susan laughed at her remark. 'Oh, I used to respect you, Susan...' I thought, tears streaming down my face.

"What a wimp he is!" laughed Steve. "I have to ask you a question, Susan. Who do you prefer? My cock or your wimp husband, Dave?" "Oh, God, Steve! Your cock, without question! Keep pumping me! Don't stop! Please!"

They fucked for a minute or so more, until Steve spoke again, in a deliberate way that made my flesh crawl. "Susan, would you ever give my cock up, again?" "Oh. No, lover of mine! Never! I'll never give it up!" "Well, what about another comparison? How do you compare what my cock is doing to you, to, say, your daughter, Sandi-Sue?" Susan was puzzled. "What do you mean, Steve?" "Let's go back to the question I asked you a while back about your wimp husband, Dave. Who do you prefer, Susan? My cock or your daughter?" "Oh, God! Your cock without a doubt! It beats Sandi-Sue, to my mind! Just keep on doing me, Steve! Please!"

"So, you like my cock, huh, Susan?" Hell, yes! I love it!" "In that case, I want you to promise me that you will never let Dave anywhere near your cunt, again. At least, not until I give you permission, OK?" "But... but... I promised Dave I'd give him some really hot sex after I got back after our little tryst, Steve, to make it up to him," Susan whined.

"Well, you'd better unpromise him! If you followed my instructions and denied him any sex over the past month, whilst following my special exercises so you could accommodate me and my hand, you know that the poor little bastard isn't going to be able to get any purchase down there for a good while! So best to hold back on any mercy fucks for hubby for a time, in any case! You want to make it up to him? Cook him a meatloaf!" They both laughed.

I felt numb. So... numb. It was a typical North California summer's day, but I felt cold.

The sex was bad enough. Seeing my best friend and my wife, together. But maybe I could have gotten over that. But the disrespect for me and especially for our little girl, Sandi-Sue? To my mind, that was unforgivable!

The video then stopped. It had been somewhat under 10 minutes. But it had seemed much longer.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. I heard Bill's voice. "Dave, Bill here. I just watched that video. That's the most fucked up thing I ever saw or heard in my life! What the fuck was going through her mind? You want to try for reconciliation or for a divorce?"

"If it had just been me she insulted, well... maybe a reconciliation. But for her to turn on Sandi-Sue like that, damn it, Bill, divorce is the only option I can think of!"

"For what it's worth, I agree. Look, my spidey sense is tingling. Where is your daughter?"

"She's helping a friend today with some college project. She's in town, at her friend's house."

"Get her to come back home, immediately!" "Why?" I asked.

"Because of the way Steve set your wife up to insult both you and Sandi-Sue, I have a horrible suspicion that he could well send a copy of that video to your daughter, too! Tell her to come back home, but if she has an email from Steve that she is NOT to open it and view the attached video by herself! And I'll make a start on the divorce paperwork and also on orders to keep her and Steve away from you, Sandi-Sue and your house."

I followed Bill's instructions, and just after 1pm, Sandi-Sue arrived at our house, flustered and anxious about my call.

"Dad!" she shouted. "Just what the Hell is going on? And where's mom?"

I caught a glimpse of my face in the wall mirror, at the same time Sandi-Sue saw me. I looked stricken.

"Daddy? Have you and mommy had a falling out?"

"No. Well... yes, actually, I think you could say that."

I explained to her what had happened.

"Daddy, I can't get my head around this idea. My mom and... and... Uncle... Steve? What the fuck does Auntie Helen think about all this?"

That's something I hadn't thought of! Surely Helen would not approve of Steve having a three day fling with her best friend?

I steeled myself to act as normally as possible as I put the phone on speaker and used the speed dial for Helen's cell number. She answered on the second ring. "Oh, Hi, Dave! How are you today? How's Susan?" From her bright and cheery response I realised she had not got a clue about what was happening. "Oh, I'm OK, I guess! Susan's busy, somewhere. I am getting a little behind with some projects for work. How are you and Steve?"

"Oh, we are both fine. I had to go to help look after my sister's craft shop as her husband Brian is in hospital having a knee operation. I wanted Steve to come with me, but you know how he is with his psychology and counselling practice. He really can't take time off from his patients, so he's stuck working at home whilst I am trying to work out the prices on various craft items!"

"Oh, that's a pity," I said. "Steve really loves the coast, doesn't he? Say, how about getting together for a Barbeque at the weekend?" I asked. She replied that was a great idea and as she wouldn't be getting back until Saturday morning, it had better be at our place, this time.

After we said our goodbyes, I ended the connection. "So, Sandi-Sue, it looks as if Helen knows nothing of what is happening. Fuck!"

Sandi-Sue looked at me and said: "Dad, you mentioned an email from Steve. You told me not to open it. I have just checked on my Blackberry and I do have an email from Steve. There's a video attachment. Is that what caused you to call me in such a blind panic? That title makes me think that Steve and my mom are starring in their own porn video. Have you seen it? Exactly how bad is it, Dad?"

I looked at her, and said: "Sandi-Sue, it's the very worst. What they are doing is bad enough. But it is what they are saying that really hurt me."

Sandi-Sue growled: "What? They'd better not be saying shit about MY Daddy or they'll have ME to answer to!"

I tried to smile at her. "Thanks, honey. But it's not just me that they were talking trash about."

Sandi-Sue looked at me and said: Dad... what the fuck are you driving at? I want to watch that video."

"You can't! It's too... horrible!"

"Dad, you can't stop me. I'm 18 and it's on my email account. Either you let me watch it here, with you, or I'll watch it by myself, later. So... what's it to be?"

I stared at her for several moments before nodding my agreement. I knew what she said was true and if she was going to watch it, I could not risk having her 18-year-old mind twisted by what her mother and Steve did and said during that ten minute video, if she watched it alone, in her room or someplace else.

We watched the video, sitting side by side in the lounge; I'd fed it through our big screen TV. On reflection, that might have been a mistake.

"Jeeesus Chrrriiiist!" Sandi-Sue shouted. "Fuck! This is so sick! OMFG! That's soooo gross!"

When she heard them comparing me unfavourably to Steve's cock she shook her head and muttered. But when she heard what they said about her, about my little princess, it broke her heart.

She suddenly cuddled up to me and began to cry like a very frightened little girl. She spoke in a voice that chilled me because it sounded exactly like she'd sounded when she was five. "Daddy! Daddy! Where's my mommy? I want my mommy! I want my mommy, NOW!" She began sobbing, horribly, gut wrenchingly. It hurt my soul to hear her crying like that as I cuddled her against me, tears streaming down my face.

It took me back to that time when Sandi-Sue had been five and her mother had fallen ill and spent a couple of weeks in hospital. She'd cried and called for her mother, then, using those exact words...

I began to wonder at the wisdom of letting her see the video when suddenly Sandi-Sue was back in the room, as it were. She gave a self-depreciating chuckle and said: "Now, where the fuck did THAT come from?"

She looked at me, frowned, scrubbed her eyes with her hands and said: "Dad, this is some weird shit, right enough! Something just changed in me. I dunno what, but... maybe I just grew up? Anyhow... you are going to divorce the bitch, hah?"

"Sandi-Sue, that's on the cards," I said. But I didn't feel happy with the idea. Just resigned to it.

I phoned Bill with the information I had gleaned from my phone conversation with Helen. Bill agreed with me that it was likely that, despite what Steve had told me, that they were at Steve's house.

Bill always works fast. Later that afternoon he had divorce papers and temporary protection orders preventing them from coming into contact with Sandi-Sue or myself and barring them from the house.

Bill had decided that it would be better to have a uniformed officer serve the papers so he had them delivered by a Sheriff.

I wondered how they felt when their plans for a three day tryst were blown out of the water.

One of the most awkward and horrible things I have ever had to do in my life was to phone Helen and tell her what Susan and Steve had been doing. At first she thought I was joking, but when Sandi-Sue took the phone from my hand and spoke softly to her, Helen finally had to understand that it was real. And that life would never be the same again, for any of us.

Helen came back from her sister's home and threw Steve out of the house. Susan had already gone, someplace, but I didn't care to know where.

Bill arranged for a meeting at his offices which are in downtown San Francisco the next Monday morning.

We trooped into his main conference room, Bill, Sandi-Sue and myself on one side of the massive oal table and Susan and a young blonde man who was representing Susan, at the other. Susan had spent the last several days in a hotel. I didn't know or care where Steve was.

When the young blonde man spoke, I was surprised that he had a very strong Australian accent. "Hello! My name is Peter Briscoe, I am the attorney for Susan Summers. And despite the Oz accent, please be assured I am a US attorney. In fact, I emigrated to America from Australia when I was 10, I am now 27 and, as you can tell, my Oz accent shows no sign of ever going away!"

Bill introduced everyone and the battle commenced.

Susan shouted at me: "You are an absolute bastard, Dave! I told you it was only going to be for three days! But you had to be controlled by your damned, pathetic male ego! Well, let me tell you buster, I am going after you for every penny I can get! And what is Sandi-Sue doing here? What have you told her?"

Bill raised his left hand, in it he was holding an old fashioned ink pen. "Now, Mrs Summers, there's no need for that, is there? We need to try to deal with this horrible situation as best we can and as maturely as we can."