It had been a hell of a month. Christ, it had been a hell of a summer. My partner and I had been putting in sixteen hour days since early June, trying to get our new venture going. It was now mid August, and we just about ready to introduce our product to the industry. We had come a long way, and if we were successful, we and our wives would enjoy the fruits of our labors, including early retirement, with enough in the bank to do some very enjoyable travelling. All we had to do was finish putting our business in order without burning out. And I was close.
This morning, Jan and I had another spat about how little time we spent together. We ended up apologizing to each other, as we have many times in the past. She knows why I'm putting in the long hours. I admit that I am paying far too little attention to her.
By the time noon had rolled around, I'd decided I was going to take the afternoon off. Call it a mental health break, or call it an opportunity to try and make my sweet wife a little happier. Call it whatever you want, I was outta there. Derek, my partner, decided that if I could do it, so could he. His wife was out of town visiting her family, so he was going to grab his fishing rod, his tackle box and a six pack and spend the afternoon out on the lake.
As I drove home from the office, something under the dashboard of the car started to rattle around, loosened when I drove through the railway crossing that serves the small industrial park where our office is located. By the time I pulled into our garage the noise was making me crazy. I shut off the ignition and turned so that I could stick my head under the dash. After a few minutes of snooping, I located a piece of moulded plastic that seemed to be part of the heater duct. I snapped it back into place and sat up. Being upside down for several minutes resulted in a bit of dizziness, so I sat still and let my balance return. As I sat there looking out the window in the back of the garage, the back door opened and our neighbor, Nick, stepped out, and strolled across the lawn to the gate, and crossed into his own yard.
Nick and his wife, Madeleine had lived to the rear of us for five or six years now. We had been in our home a year before they moved in and we had been friends ever since. They were older than us, by maybe ten years, with no kids. They seemed to have a close and loving relationship.
Madeleine was English, and looked it, with a peaches and cream complexion and reddish-blonde hair. She had come to Canada as a graduate nurse in her early twenties and had met Nick after he suffered a fall at a construction site and had been hospitalized, in traction, for several weeks. The story he told, when she wasn't there to hear him, was that they had started out talking through the night when he had difficulty sleeping, and had graduated to her blowing him each night to relax him. They continued to see each other after he was discharged from the hospital, and they were married six months later.
He was a small wiry guy of Greek descent, who now ran his own construction company. I had always gotten along well with Nick, I considered him among my closest friends, in a neighborly way. Acquaintances told stories, though, about Nick's reputation in the construction trade. It was said that if you competed fairly, and did good work, and pleased your customers, that he was a good and friendly competitor. Those who took work from him by lowballing jobs and doing shoddy work often had strange accidents happen on their jobsites. No one could prove anything, and I certainly wasn't going to ask him about it.
Anyway, it wasn't unusual for Nick to be at our house. I was no hell at handyman stuff, and he was always offering to repair anything that needed fixing, particularly if Jan asked. He was always very sweet to her, and they were forever flirting with each other. Madeleine was also somewhat of a flirt, and a bit of an exhibitionist too, I thought. She favoured low cut dresses and tops and was forever displaying her full breasts to the men of the neighborhood. I had long ago stopped averting my eyes when she leaned toward me, and she never failed to give me a cute little grin when she looked up to catch me peeking at her charms.
When I let myself in the garage entrance, I could hear water running. I made my way around the house, and could tell that Jan was in the shower. Odd, I thought. Why would be she be showering in the middle of the day. The answer came as a shock. When I entered the bedroom it was all too clear why she needed to shower. Most of the bedding was on the floor, and the sheet that remained on the bed was rumpled and had a large wet stain in the middle. I could hear Jan singing a little "la-ti-da" song in the shower as I ran my finger across the sheet and rubbed my fingers together, then brought them to my nose. It felt like semen, and it smelled like semen. Son of a bitch!
I made my way back to the living room and sat down, stunned. My wife had cheated on me with my friend and neighbor. I was angry. What the hell was I going to say to her? I loved Jan very much, but at the moment I really wanted to say something hurtful.
I got up and got myself a beer from the fridge and sat back down again. I didn't want to think about Jan and Nick together on our bed, but I couldn't help it. I could easily picture Jan on her knees, her face buried in the pillow, being fucked doggy style - 'being the bitch', as she liked to call her favorite position. She loved getting it hard from behind and I imagined Nick as being quite capable of pounding the hell out of her little pink twat.
I was roused out of my reverie by the sound of Jan doing something with the bedding, and I was almost ashamed of myself when I realized I had an erection. This shouldn't happen. Thinking about my wife being fucked by someone else should lead to negative feelings, like anger and reprisal, not lust, but my body wasn't going along with what I considered logical.
Still humming her little song, Jan emerged from the bedroom with the evidence - an armload of bedding, destined for the washing machine. She was wearing a tight t-shirt and panties, and had a freshly fucked and just showered glow. I was looking at her face as she saw me, and it went pale. Jan is bright, very quick witted, and it showed as she recovered almost instantly. "Oh, Jesus, Greg, you startled me," she said, sounding strained. "What the heck are you doing home so early?"
I ignored her question, which flustered her. "When did you get home?" She was fishing to find out how much I knew.
I answered that one "Oh, I'd say about thirty seconds after Nick let himself out the back door." She reddened, knowing she'd been caught. I gave her a grim smile. "How long has this little game been going on?" I asked.
"Oh, shit!" She exclaimed and threw the bedding on the floor and retreated into the bedroom. I stayed where I was, sipping my beer, while my mind churned and my cock throbbed. She returned a couple of minutes later, blowing her nose, a few tears on her cheeks. "A couple of weeks." She said.
"What?"
"You asked how long this had been going on, and I answered. A couple of weeks. Are you angry?" I nodded. "Do you still love me? Do you want me to leave?" she said in the little girl voice she used when upset.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and thought about the answers. Did this make any difference about my love for her. It was rather humiliating at the moment, but did I love her any less? "Yes, I still love you. No, you won't have to leave", I told her.
She sighed with relief and sat beside me and hugged me. "I'm so sorry." She murmured.
"Are you? Are you sorry that I feel humiliated? Are you sorry that I feel that I can't trust you any more? Or are you just sorry that you got caught?" She sat back and studied my face for several seconds, composing her answer.
Jan was never anything less than honest with me, and she always told me exactly what was on her mind. "I am truly sorry that I have made you unhappy. You have to know that I love you and you only. Fucking Nick has nothing to do with love, it's just sex, I needed release. Do you know how long it's been since you and I made love?"
I thought for a second. "Probably three or four weeks, we've talked about this before. You know the preparations are just about done." I paused.