Rob and Glenda

We had just gotten off work and Ben and I were sitting at the bar in Riley's Tavern sipping suds and shooting the shit while watching Monday Night Football on the TV. The game was just so-so, neither team seemingly able to get it together although the Broncos did manage to get a drive or two going even though they never capitalized on them.

A shot of the Broncos cheerleaders hit the screen and Ben nudged me and said:

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Do one of those cheerleaders?"

"What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I would and in a fucking heartbeat."

"Which one?"

"Wouldn't matter. Whichever one I could get to go along with the program."

Just then a shot of a busty blond with more than ample cleavage showed up on the screen and Ben said:

"That one?"

"On the city hall steps at high noon with God and everybody watching."

"You could do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fuck some babe while you were being watched?"

"No problem. If your dick gets hard enough it will take over and you won't even notice that anyone else is around."

"I don't know if I could do that. Function while being watched I mean. Although I guess that there are some guys who can. Could you fuck some guy's wife while he watched or maybe watch while some guy did yours?"

"What the hell Ben; what's with this watching shit?"

"Just curious is all. What you said about the city hall steps just triggered something."

"Triggered what?"

"Just a memory."

"What kind of memory?"

"A guy I used to work with -- Joe Franco -- was a swinger. Always trying to get some guy to do his wife while he watched."

"From the way you are talking I'm guessing that you never took him up on his offer."

"No, I never did and I have always regretted it. She was one hot looking babe."

"Why didn't you nail her when he wasn't around to watch?"

"I tried once and she said she would love to let me get in her pants, but only if one of two things happened. Either Joe got to watch or we had to swap. I could do her while Joe did my wife."

"So why didn't you?"

"You shitting me? You think for one minute my Alice would have gone along with that? Maybe when pigs fly."

"How do you know? Did you ever ask her?"

"Hell no! I didn't want no frying pan bouncing off my skull. Besides, you seen Alice. Who would want to swap their old lady for her?"

"You kidding me? I'd go for Alice in a New York minute."

"You would? You would swap Glenda for Alice?"

"Sure. Why not. You going to tell me that you wouldn't do Glenda if you had a chance?"

"Hah! I'd be on her like a duck on a june bug. Let me get this straight. You would let me take your old lady in the sack?"

"Sure. Of course she would have to be the one to say yes."

"Damn!" he said and we went back to the game just in time to see Plummer throw an interception.

+++++++++++++++++++

As I drove home I thought about what Ben and I had talked about while sitting at the bar. Only in America could two buddies sit in a bar drinking and talking about fucking each other's wives without getting in a fight (well, two really good buddies any way), but I couldn't understand why he would have trouble banging a broad while being watched. But then maybe it was because I'd done it a dozen times and it never bothered me. Course it was back in my single days while I was in college. Every once in a while I would think back to those frat house gangbangs and think that, yes indeed, those were the good old days.

Another thing I couldn't understand was Ben's attitude where Alice was concerned. Why in the hell did he think that no one would want her? Sure, she was no skinny, flat stomached Barbi doll, but I'll bet that there weren't too many men who would turn down a chance at a raven haired thirty-six year old that came in at 36Dx24x37 even if it did come on a five foot three inch frame. Voluptuous was the word that best described Alice. My tongue (along with other parts of me) got hard every time I saw her. There were only two reasons why I had never made a pass at Alice. One is that Ben was my friend and the other is that Glenda would kill me if she found out. And she would find out. I was incapable of hiding anything from that woman.

It would be terminally stupid of me to do anything that would risk what I had with Glenda. As far as looks go she was what they were calling a MILF these days. A better cook than my mother and my grandmother combined; she kept a clean house and damned near fucked me to death three or four times a week. Plus -- and a big plus at that -- she made more than I did off the paintings she did in her basement studio and I pulled down 70K a year. But even though she made a ton of money off of them those paintings were, to me at least, a massive sore spot in our marriage, but I had to keep silent about it. Glenda did figure studies mostly and she used live models and the models were mostly men and the men were mostly black and that mostly pissed me off and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it without opening a humongous can of worms; a can full of trouble that could do serious harm to our marriage.

I once asked her why most of her models were black males and her answer was:

"Because that is what sells."

I couldn't argue with that because it was a subject that I knew nothing about, but in the back of my mind I did not believe that was the real reason. You see, I knew something about Glenda that she didn't know that I knew. And the information was disturbing. If I had known it before Glenda and I took our vows I'm not at all that sure that I would have married her. In fact, we had been married just a bit over three years when I found out.

+++++++++++++++++++++

It was a quirk of fate that put Glenda, a girl she went to school with and me in close proximity one sunny September day. Glenda had a meeting with the owner of an art gallery that had some of her paintings on display and since she was downtown anyway she called me and asked me to have lunch with her. We were at Emile's and about half way through lunch when a woman walked up to the table and said:

"Glenda? Glenda Stoneman?"

Glenda looked up and then said, "Marge? Oh my God, look at you" and she stood and the two women hugged. Glenda invited Marge to sit with us and then she introduced me. I thought I saw Marge's eyes widen at the word "husband" but I didn't think anything of it at the time. I finished my lunch and told Glenda that I needed to get back to work and when I left Glenda and Marge were reminiscing about their days in college.

That night after work I stopped at The Black Mushroom for a drink with Ben. As we sat down I noticed that Marge was sitting at the bar. She was looking our way so I waved her over and she came over to the table and joined us. Ben completely misread the situation, gave me a "you old dog you" grin, finished his drink and then left to give the "two lovers" some time alone.

As soon as Marge started talking it was obvious that she already had a snoot full and that is probably why she wasn't watching what she was saying. Ben was only a couple of seconds gone when Marge said:

"Are you really Glenda's husband?"

"For three years now."

"Oh wow. I would never have expected that."

"Expected what?"

"That she would marry a white guy."

Now I'm a guy who believes that what was in the past was none of my business and I had never tried to find out about Glenda's dating habits or old boyfriends. What happened before me was none of my business, but Marge's statement grabbed my curiosity and so I asked:

"And just why does that surprise you?"

"In the whole four years we were in college together she never dated anyone but black football and black basketball players. When some of us girls asked her why she only went out with black guys she just said we wouldn't understand; that we would have to date a couple to find out. Mitzy Warren asked her if it was true what we had heard -- that blacks were bigger -- and Glenda just grinned and said that was something else we would have to find out on our own. Then she told us to be careful; that there was some truth to the old saying that once you go black you can never go back."

She was silent for a few moments and then her eyes opened wide as she thought of something and then she blurted out:

"Oh! You must be hung like a horse. Is that it?"

And then her hand flew to her mouth as if to cover it as she said, "Oh my God! I can't believe that I just said that." Then she said, "Saved by the bell" and she raised her arm and waved. "My husband finally got here." She giggled and said:

"At least in my case it was true."

"What was true?"

"That you never go back" and she pointed. I turned and saw a large black man approaching and he had a scowl on his face. He probably thought I was trying to hustle his woman and he didn't like it. He walked up to the table and before he could say a word Marge introduced us. I stood and offered my hand as Marge said:

"Rob is Glenda's husband. You remember Glenda don't you?"

As he reached for my hand I saw his eyes quickly glance at my crotch and then back up to my face as he said, "Nice to meet you." I sat back down and he joined us. I finished my drink and told them that I needed to hurry home, that Glenda would be waiting dinner for me.

I was one confused puppy as I drove home. Marge obviously thought Glenda ran with the black crowd because of the size thing and that there was probably some truth to it was confirmed -- at least in my mind- by the glance that her husband gave my crotch as if somehow he could judge my size. Size or no, one thing was clear to me by the time I got home that night. My wife had a thing for blacks. But was it a thing for size? If it was then her marrying me made no sense since I was only about six and a half inches.

So there I was. Knowing that my wife had a thing for black men, knowing that she used mostly black men for models and I couldn't say anything about it without her thinking that I was thinking that she was getting it on with her models. Was she? I had no way of knowing for sure, but I didn't think she was. In my college days I'd done several threesomes and foursomes and quite a few gangbangs and I knew what it felt like when you weren't the first one in, even if those in front of you were using rubbers. If Glenda was taking on her models I was pretty sure that I would have known it. But still, in the back of my mind I had to wonder. And worry. I didn't know what I would do if I found out she was cheating on me so I did my best not to find out.

+++++++++++++++

From time to time Glenda would ask me to model for her, but I always found some reason to get out of doing it. I could always find a better use for my time than to sit, stand or lay in some pose for a couple of hours while Glenda sketched or painted. One night when Ben and Alice were over for dinner Glenda was complaining to Alice (in a good natured way) that she could never get me to take my clothes off and let her "immortalize" me and Alice had laughed and said she couldn't get Ben to keep his clothes on. Then Ben said that he didn't expect that she had too much trouble in getting models and then he laughed and said he didn't know too many men who wouldn't like to get naked in front of a beautiful woman.

"I'd do it in a heartbeat" he said and "Over my dead body" Alice exclaimed.

The next day was the day of my yearly physical and so I was still at home when the doorbell rang and Glenda hollered at me to get it. I opened the door and found a tall, well built black man standing there.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Glenda Barton."

"Glenda" I hollered up the stairs, "It's for you."

Glenda came up and introduced me. "Honey, this is Rex. He will be sitting for me the next couple of weeks."

I saw the way he was looking at Glenda and I wanted to hit him, but of course I didn't. All I did was kiss Glenda and tell her that I'd see her later and then I left for my doctor's appointment.

A week later I had an appointment with a supplier and I hadn't seen much sense in driving in to work and then turning around and coming all the way back so I was still at home when the doorbell rang. It was Rex again and when I opened the door and he saw it was me his face got a smirk on it. I let him in, hollered for Glenda and then went into my den. I sat down at the desk and tried to look over the papers that I would be taking to my meeting with the supplier, but I couldn't concentrate on them. Rex's smirk kept jumping into my mind.

That fucking smirk stayed with me all day and when Glenda wanted to make love that night I thought of that smirk and for the first time in my life I wasn't able to get it up. Glenda went to work on me with her magic mouth, but just as I started to stiffen I wondered if she had sucked off Rex the same way and my cock wilted. Finally Glenda asked me what was wrong. I couldn't very well say, "You and your black boyfriend are what's wrong" so I lied and said that I guessed that it was worries and pressures at work.

"Well you need to get over them baby, and soon. I need this little guy on a regular basis."

The fact that she said "little guy" did not help at all. I didn't sleep well that night and my mood followed me into work the next day. By eleven things were so bad that I said, "Fuck this shit!" and I grabbed my coat and headed for home. I was going to have a nice long talk with Glenda and "clear the air." Maybe the outcome of the talk wouldn't be good, but I couldn't go on with my life knowing what I knew about Glenda's past combined with her penchant for black male models and Rex's goddamned smirk.

It wasn't until I was a half mile from the house that I realized that I might walk in on Rex "sitting" for Glenda and I almost stopped and turned around, but at the last second I decided that to hell with it, I needed to get it over with. When I pulled up in front of the house I saw Ben's car in the driveway and no sign of Rex's car and that told me that Alice was visiting so I wouldn't be walking in on Rex and Glenda. Of course I wouldn't be able to bring anything up in front of Alice, but I would wait it out. Sooner or later she would leave and I'd have my sit down with Glenda. I was determined that I was going to get it done that day.

I wasn't in the house twenty seconds when it was obvious that I had totally misread things. From the upstairs bedroom I heard a loud:

"Oh God; you are splitting me in two" followed a second or two later by, "Oh no, don't stop. I didn't mean for you to stop. Just keep pushing lover, just kee....." and then a loud moan.

I walked up the stairs to a chorus of, "Oh yes, oh yes, oh sweet fucking Jesus yes" and "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I reached the bedroom door and looked in and saw Ben fucking Glenda. They were on the bed and Glenda was on her knees with her head on her forearms and her butt up in the air and Ben was fucking her from behind.

I stood there stunned and frozen in my tracks for a couple of seconds and then Ben noticed me and stopped fucking Glenda. She cried out:

"No, no, no, oh God no, don't stop, please don't stop."

When he didn't start fucking her again she raised her head and turned to look back and that is when she saw me. She looked at me and cried:

"Don't make him stop Rob, please don't make him stop. Oh God please let him keep going."

Ben pulled out of her and stood there with a sheepish look on his face and I took one last look at the scene and then turned and walked out of the house.

++++++++++++++++++++

I drove to the other side of town, picked a motel with a bar next door to it. I checked in, walked over to the bar and handed my car keys to the bartender, told him to point me at the motel when the bar closed and then I proceeded to get blind, stupid drunk.

I woke up the next day around noon fully dressed and lying on a motel bed with no idea of how I got there. I had a pounding headache and there was a strange noise I couldn't quite make out. I got up and as I undressed I realized that the strange noise was the ring tone of my cell phone. I drug it out of my pants pocket and the display said the call was from my home phone. I tossed the phone on the bed and stumbled into the shower.

When I came out of the shower five minutes later the phone was still going off. I ignored it, got dressed and then went across the street to the Village Inn and got some breakfast. Then I went back to the bar for a little bit of "the hair of the dog that bit me." I asked the day bartender about my car keys and he went back to the office and came back with them. I nursed a couple of beers for an hour or so and then went back to the motel.

I picked up my cell off the bed and checked it out. I had twenty-one missed calls and eleven voice mails. Four of the missed calls were from Ben, one was from my office and the rest were from Glenda. All of the voice mails were from Glenda. I deleted everything and then called my office. I told my boss what was going on and that I was going to need a day or two off. He had been through two divorces so he empathized with me. He told me to take as much time as I needed.

I went to the motel office and took the room for the rest of the week. While there my cell phone beeped and I saw that the battery was low so on the way back to my room I stopped at my car and put the phone on the car charger.

In the room I sat on the bed and stared at the wall as my mind worked overtime and I came to the conclusion that I had been much, much better off just wondering about Glenda than actually knowing. And Ben! Jesus Christ, what a fucking cliché. My best fucking friend! I was worried about black male models and all the time it was my golfing partner, my hunting and fishing buddy, my fucking drinking companion. But then it could just as easily be Ben AND the fucking male models for all I knew.

I wondered if Alice knew that Ben was cheating on her. I thought maybe I should call and let her know so in case she didn't know she could go after him with some sharp instrument. But I couldn't do it. I liked Alice and as much as I wanted to cause Ben grief I didn't want to be the one to hurt Alice. I didn't want to be in the position that every time I saw her she would think, "Why oh why did you have to tell me that. I was so happy until you told me what you did."

I fell asleep sitting up on the bed and leaning back against the head board. I woke up a little after six and debated going back to the bar, but I'd already hurt my head enough for one day. I got in the car and went looking for a store where I could buy a couple of books to read. I checked the phone and saw that I had seventeen missed calls and eight voiced mails -- all but one from Glenda. The other call was from Ben. I deleted them all when I pulled into the Safeway parking lot.

I bought some chips, some other munchies and a carton of Coke. I found two novels that I thought I might like and then headed back to the motel. About halfway back to the motel the phone went off again. I looked at the display and saw that it was Glenda again. The bitch was certainly persistent. You would think that after about fifty unanswered and unreturned calls she would get the message that I didn't want to talk to her.

I'd just opened the first novel when the phone chirped again. I picked it up to turn the damned thing off and saw from the display that the call was from Ben. Might as well get it over with I thought so I took the call.

"What the fuck do you want" I snarled into the phone.

"Jesus Rob, where the hell have you been? I've been trying to get you all day. We need to talk buddy."

"Don't you "buddy" me you worthless piece of shit. The only thing we need to do is make sure that you never get close enough to me to let me get my hands on you. The last thing I need right now is to go to prison for killing your sorry ass."