I suppose I should have suspected sooner than I did, but they say that the spouse is always the last to know. I think that it is more the case that a spouse has some amount of trust in a person he or she knows well enough to marry. So, that makes it easy to be blindsided.
Sure, I am busy, but I did not notice any change in Lynn's normal routine. We all have routines you know, even if we do not think we do.
Lynn is pretty for a thirty-eight year old woman. She is five-foot two, and a hundred and five pounds soaking wet. She is a blue-eyed blond who keeps her hair in a kind of pageboy cut. She is a head turner! She is also a realtor, and makes a decent living at it. We have been married for ten years, and have a son and a daughter in elementary school.
We have always arranged our schedules to have one of us home when the kids, Adam (eight), and Jenny (six) come home from school. We decided early that we would not have "latchkey" children, who carry a key on a chain around their necks to let themselves into an empty house after school. Lynn is a doting mother, and is the one who helps the kids with their homework.
I am an aircraft mechanic, and can work whatever kinds of shifts fit with parental responsibilities. I am five-eleven, and am about one hundred seventy-five pounds. I get a lot of exercise and play baseball in a local beer league. The work is manual, and keeps me active since I am a shift chief.
I am not an aggressive person—more of "live and let live," but I let no one push me around—I stand up for myself and for my loved ones. As a formerly active Marine (no such thing as an ex-Marine), I know how to push back! You can call me Mike—most people do, although I like the way it sounds when Lynn calls me Michael.
I guess it's logical to think that someone still as young and pretty as Lynn might attract some male attention out in the world. And, probably also logical to think that she might flirt back sometimes. Some of my friends and co-workers have always told me how lucky I am to have Lynn, and just how interested they might be in her if she were single. I have always taken the complement, and have never worried about the risk.
Tonight is Saturday night, and Jan and Paul are over for dinner and drinks. They are good neighbors and good friends, with whom we seldom keep secrets. After dinner, Lynn and Jan are out on the deck, and Paul and I are sitting in the kitchen having a beer.
I notice that Lynn and Jan are engaged in a kind of serious but hushed discussion about something. I pointed the neck of my beer bottle in their direction, and asked Paul casually,
"What's up with that? The girls look like they are up to something. Any ideas what it is?"
Paul became immediately defensive and replied, "What do you mean? I-I'm sure it's nothing. Why? What are you saying Mike?"
"Damn, Paul. I'm just asking a simple question. Forget I asked."
Paul manages a nervous smile and said, "Hey, sorry man, just a little edgy these days, stuff at work you know."
With kind of a furrowed brow I answer, "Sure, no problem buddy."
We laugh it off, clink bottles, and continue a more normal conversation. But, my attention is occasionally drawn back to the girl's animated conversation, especially since Jan stole a knowing glance at me a time or two. Shit! I am letting my imagination run away with me. So, I get up and twist the caps off a couple more, one for Paul, and one for me. Bottled beer is much better tasting than that canned shit—my view of it.
I may be just a working man but I do have a college degree. I like working with my hands and fell into this when the local job market became a little short on demand for English majors. Ah well, what the hell! Life is good: pretty wife, two great kids, and no money worries—not really. Then my mind circles back to Lynn's and Jan's secret little confab—just something about it bothers me. But, I decide to forget it ... just for now.
The rest of the evening proceeds about like normal, we put on some music, I dance with Jan and Paul dances with Lynn we laugh joke, and the girls talk about their kids, school and just wifey kinds of shit. At the end of the evening, we part ways as we always do, with my making a friendly and innocent pass at Jan, and Paul doing the same with Lynn.
Lynn and I clean up, and get ready for bed. We do not exactly fuck like minks, but we have a nice and active sex life, and we get together more nights than not. Last night was a "not," so I am looking forward to a little nookie tonight. Lynn showers, and dresses in a T-shirt and panties—her normal nightly attire. Damn, she looks so hot!
By the time I slide into bed, Lynn is already there and curled up facing away from me. I spoon up behind her, and she says sweetly,
"Oh Michael, not tonight honey, I am bushed! Tomorrow night, I promise. Goodnight sweetheart!"
I do not answer her, but just turn over trying to get some sleep myself. Sleep is not coming. I lie awake trying to understand her mood tonight. Her conversation with Jan crossed my mind again. Gauging from Paul's strange reaction when I mentioned it, there must be something going on that I am not supposed to know about. It is not near enough to my birthday or anniversary for it to be a surprise party or anything like that.
I actually do fall asleep—eventually. When I wake up the next morning, I find Lynn curled up behind me with her arm around me. My movement awakens her, she kisses me on my neck, and she rises to get ready for her day. It is Sunday, but she has an open house today so she will be gone for most of the day. Sunday night goes about the same, with Lynn finding some excuse to be too "indisposed" for sex.
We just cuddle and kiss a little and she falls asleep with my arms around her. I manage to get a hand up into her t-shirt, and onto her pert little apple-sized tits. Damn, I really love feeling her up! Her behavior earlier tonight seems normal, except I do catch her talking quietly over the fence with Jan—a conversation that ends abruptly when I walk over. Jan gives me a nervous smile, turns and walks into her house.
Paul works where I do, it is Monday and this week he is on the same shift, but heads another crew. I meet him for lunch, and after some introductory bullshit, I become more direct with him.
"Y'know, Paul, I am getting the distinct impression that there is something you, Jan, and Lynn know that I do not. Or am I just being paranoid?"
"Don't ask me anything I can't answer, and anything you do not
want
to know, Mike. You know how it is with Jan."
Paul is henpecked. I always thought that Jan kept his balls in a Mason jar on her dresser. But, she does share with him everything she hears from her various friends, and threatens to deny him off sex if he tells anyone. So, I am not pushing it with him, to keep him out of trouble with Jan. Actually, he has already answered my question.
We finish our lunch and our conversation in a more normal manner. Just did not want to fuck up his sex life—any more than it already is.
I take a little time toward the end of shift, and call a private investigator to satisfy my curiosity. A "PI", I guess you might say. I give him enough information to keep an eye on Lynn for a while, just to see if my suspicions are correct. I vow to keep things as normal as possible with Lynn and the kids, until I have some answers.
What if I am wrong? The thought crosses my mind.
According to the PI, this process will take about a week or so, and I will get a full report, along with pictures—if there is anything requiring pictures. So, life will go on usual I guess.
Jan and Paul decide to go clubbing on the next Thursday night, and they ask Lynn and me to join them. It is great fun. I love music and dancing and am having a good time. We find a table near the dance floor, and Lynn and I dance to quite a few numbers in between drinks. She looks so sexy tonight in a tight short dress, and heels.
After a while, two nice-looking younger guys approach our table, and asking if we would allow Lynn and Jan to dance with them. Paul and I were just starting another beer, and resting a little, so fine—we let them dance with the girls.
The only strange thing was that their partners take them over to a rather dark part of the club. Since they are both together, I thinking it's nothing to worry about. Paul and I talk, mostly about work, whether he is ever going to get his Honda Gold Wing back together, and if he needs help with it—just that kind of stuff.
It looks like the girls are going to be gone for a couple of numbers with these guys. I did notice that Lynn, Jan and their partners have disappeared from the dance floor for some minutes, and assume it is to get some air, since the club is rather warm.
I didn't bother to check on them since I caught sight of Jake, my PI at a corner table, sucking on his seltzer water. I notice that he disappeared about the same time. I figure I will get the report later if there is anything to report. On a whim, I catch up with him in a back hallway, and ask him to add Jan to his surveillance.
"Gonna cost you extra, white boy!" he said.
"No problem. Just put them both on one report for me."
"It'll be another day or two with another subject. Give me until Wednesday or Thursday next week, and I will give you the whole report on both subjects, with photos, timelines, and complete summary of my findings."
"Okay." I answered.
This means that I have to wait nearly another week to find out my fate. I am either going to be fighting to see my kids, or embracing my loving wife with a clear heart. I rejoin the party, and Lynn and Jan have returned to the table in time for a last slow dance with their husbands.
Lynn was very warm and romantic, I danced her into the darkest part of the club, and slid my hand down over her little round ass, and she moans a little when I press my fingers into the crease between her butt cheeks, and rub her a little.
I squeeze her buttocks without being too obvious about it. It is obvious to her though, gauging from her reaction. My cock is getting hard dancing with her, and I make sure to press it into her. When I do, she squeezes in closer to me, lays her head on my chest, and draws her arms in closer, also presses them against my chest next to her head. She moans quietly, with a satisfied smile on her face. When she does that, I move my hands up a little, one on the small of her back and the other a little further up. She purrs like a contented kitten!
On the drive home, she is so turned on, as she takes my right hand and puts it on her inner thigh high up. I let my fingers explore her buttery-soft inner thighs, and she opens her legs a little to give me better access. As I move my hand up under her dress, I expect my little finger to touch her panties. Instead, I feel soft moist naked flesh. When I register some surprise, she smiles and coos,
