The Fourth Man

I would like to thank mostera1 for all his help. He always makes my stories better.

"Honey, do you trust me; I mean really trust me?"

Now there's a question for you; how the hell do you answer that? If you say yes, you really trust her you know damn well you're not going to like the next thing that comes out of her mouth; but, if you say no, you don't trust her, you're probably going to regret it even more. Ken needed a few seconds to think.

"Before I answer that, you want to tell me what would prompt a question like that. Why would you think I don't trust you?"

"I didn't say that; I didn't say I don't think you trust me, I was asking a question."

"Yeah, well there's a reason for the question and I'd like to know what it is before I answer."

"Honey, it's a simply question; do you trust me, yes or no?"

"It's not a simple question and you know it. There is no way I'm going to give you an answer without knowing the purpose for the question in the first place."

Jennifer sighed; this was not going the way she had hoped. He was supposed to say 'yes, of course I do,' then she'd have him boxed in, but no, he was too smart for that and wasn't going for it even a little bit; time to fall back and try a different approach she thought. She decided honesty was the best policy.

"I need you to trust me, honey. I have to go away for the weekend and I don't want you to ask any questions."

"What? Oh hold on just a damn minute here; you're planning to go away for the weekend and I'm not supposed to ask you where you're going, or what you'll be doing?"

"Exactly; I know it's a lot to ask, honey, but in eight years of marriage, have I ever given you cause to distrust me?" she responded.

"No...at least not until now. Honey, you have to see how ridiculous this sounds. I don't care how trustworthy a person is, no husband in his right mind would go for something like that. Look at it from my side, what would you do if I asked the same question of you?"

She thought for a second then answered, "Well, just like you, I wouldn't like it. I'd wonder why you couldn't tell me what you'd be doing, but I would figure whatever it was, it must be very important to you or you wouldn't ask. I'd also know that you love me very much and would never do anything to hurt me, so yes, I would trust you."

Ken sat down on one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh. He should have known better than to ask that; he walked right into it. "How long would you be gone?" he asked.

"I have to leave Friday; I'd be gone before you got home from work, and I'd be back Sunday afternoon," she replied.

"You're talking about THIS Friday...right? How long have you been planning this?"

"I...I didn't really plan it, it was something that just...well, an opportunity that popped up," she replied.

"An opportunity...and you can't tell me anything about this opportunity; where you're going, who you'll be with...nothing?"

Jennifer slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear, I just can't say."

"What if I say no, I don't trust you to simply go away for two days without telling me where you're going or what you'll be doing; would you still go?"

She stared at him for a second, "I really don't know; but whether I went or not, I would be extremely disappointed in your lack of trust in me."

"I don't know," he said softly as he pondered his dilemma. "I really don't know. I guess I just don't understand why you can't tell me where you're going. If I let you do this I'm going to be wondering about it for a long time, maybe years. I don't think that's fair, Jen, do you?"

He looked over at his lovely wife; clearly she looked anxious. "I'm sorry, honey, if I could tell you I would, but I just can't. Please trust me," she asked again.

They stared at one another for a few more seconds then she informed him she was going upstairs to read for a while before going to bed and asked that he give it some serious thought...he did.

For the next two hours Ken ran through every scenario, every plausible situation he could think of, but he was getting nowhere. He always came back around to the most obvious explanation; she was going to be with another man. Just the thought made his blood run cold.

"Damn it," he mumbled to himself, "I sure wish I knew what this was all about." The more he thought about Jennifer spending the weekend with another man, the more it didn't make much sense. They'd had a happy marriage; they both had been true to one another, he was positive of it. No, he thought, it must be something else; she wouldn't cheat, she knows damn well it would be the end of our marriage, she wouldn't take that chance.

Could it possibly be some kind of test, he wondered; but that would be out of character for her as well. It just didn't make sense. He was getting tired and worn out. Hell, maybe she'll wake up in the morning and tell me it was all just a joke; don't I wish, he thought, but he knew her better than that. No, whatever was going on, she was serious.

By the time Ken got to bed his wife was already asleep. He still hadn't made up his mind what he was going to do. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling still trying to come up with a reasonable justification for his wife's mysterious request. He finally drifted off to a fitful sleep with the question still looming.

The next morning he hadn't quite awakened yet; he was still in a kind of dream world. He didn't remember hearing the alarm yet, but whatever was causing the sensation he was feeling in his groin was better than any alarm.

He forced his eyes open, lifted his head from the pillow, and watched the top of his wife's head bobbing up and down on his morning woody. He brought both hands to his chest, closed his eyes again, and moaned in hedonistic bliss as his head dropped back down to its feathery soft resting place.

Her tongue slurped its way from the depth of his balls to the pinnacle of his prick. With a smile, he took in a deep breath as he felt her warm, moist mouth close over his shaft and slide down to its very base, only to rise again, teasing and taunting his stiff pole along the way.

He opened his eyes just wide enough to peak down again; this time to his wife's smiling face. She gave it one more lick before straddling his hips and impaling herself. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest for support while she rocked to and fro on his welcomed pussy invader.

"Oh God," she cried, throwing her head back in rapture. She could feel him getting even bigger; she swayed back and forth faster, harder; building the climax she knew they would both experience any second.

Ken groaned first; his body convulsing upward from the waist, one, two, three times while his wife screamed with ecstasy. He felt the inner walls of her love tunnel squeezing, milking his manly appendage of every drop of cum.

Jennifer collapsed on top of him and lay while they both wrestled for control of their breathing.

"It's been a while since I've been wakened by such a beautiful alarm clock," he said.

"Too long," she replied still trying to catch her breath.

"Would this have anything to do with our talk last night?" he asked.

"Well, I was kind of hoping it would buy me some brownie points," she replied with sly grin.

The expression on Ken's face turned from sheer ecstasy to annoyance. Her thoughtless confession had just turned a wonderful moment of passion into no more than a ploy to get what she wanted...a bribe. If she thinks she can buy my trust with sex she's sadly mistaken, he thought. Without another word he gently nudged her from on top of him, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and headed for the shower.

Jen could feel his uneasiness and realized her mistake in admitting to her attempted manipulation. Her little plan was coming apart at the seams and she began to ponder his question of the previous evening; if he says no will she go anyway? She really couldn't answer that. She just prayed she wouldn't have to make that decision.

She put on her robe and wandered down to the kitchen. By the time Ken appeared, breakfast was being served with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

She was really laying it on thick, he thought. Actually it was all for nothing; he'd made up his mind in the shower. He just hoped he would not regret it.

"I don't imagine you've changed your mind from last night?" he asked.

"No, honey," she responded shaking her head. "This is something I have to do."

"Well I've decided to let you go and not ask questions..."

"Oh, honey, thank you..." he held up his hand to cut her off.

"But I want you to know you've hurt me, Jen. You ask me to trust you but you don't trust me enough to confide in me, instead you use sex as a tactic to try and persuade me. It appears this trust thing is very one-sided.

"Honey, it's not that I don't trust you..."

"Oh... what is it then? If it's not a lack of trust then I can only think you're going to do something that you're not very proud of." She just lowered her eyes, she didn't have an answer. "If this is so all fired important that you're going to go ahead, even though you know you are causing me pain, then you go, but I'll tell you right now, if I ever find out you did this to be with another man that trust will be irrevocably broken along with our marriage, understand?"

She meekly nodded her head. "I don't mean to hurt you, honey...honest. I wish I didn't have to do this, but like I said, it's important to me. Please don't be hurt."

He didn't respond, in fact no more was said about it at the breakfast table at all. They kissed when it was time for him to leave for work but Jen could feel the lack of passion from his lips. She hoped he would feel better when he got home later that night.

All day long Jen was having trouble with her inner demons. She wasn't kidding when she told Ken her weekend trip was very important to her, but it was also killing her to know she was hurting the man she loved. All morning her stomach was tied in knots. It was mid-day by the time she came to a final conclusion, this was a once in a life-time chance, she would never have this opportunity again, she didn't want to spend the rest of her years saying, 'I wonder, or what if' so she would make it up to her wonderful husband if it took the rest of her life, but she was going through with her plans.

In spite of her many attempts to brighten the atmosphere that night, Ken was definitely on the quiet side. He hoped by displaying his feelings of dismay she would change her mind. He wondered if she would try to bribe him again by initiating sex once they were in bed; if she did he would turn her down, but she knew he would consider it another attempted bribe and didn't. He was reserved again the next morning at breakfast, again hoping his attitude would dissuade her, but that afternoon she called him at work to let him know she was leaving.

"I love you," was the last thing she said before he hung up without responding.

"Hey, old buddy, Arnie can't make it Sunday."

Ken was lost in his thoughts. He had still maintained hope that his wife would change her mind at the last minute but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

"Huh, I'm sorry, Jack, what'd you say?" he asked his longtime friend and co-worker.

"Arnie...he can't make it on Sunday," Jack repeated. "Are you okay?

"Ah, yeah, I'm okay," Ken responded while forcing himself back to the land of the living. "Arnie can't make it? Shit, where are we going to find a fourth this late?"

"Well I was going to ask you if you knew of anyone who might be available but I'm guessing the answer is no. I'll call the pro shop and let them know we're one short, I'm sure they can find a single to fill in," Jack said still looking at his friend a little suspiciously. "Are you sure you're alright, old buddy?"

"Yeah it's..." he stopped and stared at the second best golfer in their foursome. Ken never was one to unload his troubles on someone else, not even a good friend like Jack. "Yeah, I'm okay; I just have a few things on my mind, that's all."

"Okay, if you say so. If there's anything I can do just let me know."

"Will do," Ken replied nodding his head and trying to look nonchalant.

The rest of the day was a complete waste of time as far as work was concerned. All he could think about was his wife's refusal to say where she was going or what she would be doing for the next two days.

He fought back tears as images of his Jen having sex with another man flashed through his mind over and over. The more it happened the more he denied it. That's not what this is all about he kept telling himself; I know she won't cheat on me.

Damn it, he thought, this is torture, it's fucking mental cruelty. How can she do this to me, why would she do this to me? Will I ever know what it was all about, he wondered?

Not knowing was worse than knowing if she really WAS with some guy. He felt lost, helpless, and hurt, but above all he felt anger, and it was the anger that was slowly becoming his motivating force. The more he gave in to his feelings of anger the less he felt lost and helpless. He was going to make her pay; oh how he was going to make her pay. What's that old song, "You only hurt the ones you love." Yeah, well, he thought, two can play at that game. He didn't lose his love for her but he wanted to hurt her, hurt her like she did him. He wanted her to know the agony she was putting him through, and damn it, he was going to do just that.

He started making plans. As soon as he got home he would move all her things into the guest bedroom. If she thought he was giving her the silent treatment before just wait, he schemed. He was going to make her sorry she was ever born.

On the way home Ken stopped for dinner, after all, he had all weekend to work on, "operation pay back."

"Good evening, can I get you something to drink?" asked the pretty waitress as she handed him a menu.

"Coffee please," he responded. As Ken opened the menu, just looking at it made his stomach queasy. He was so busy working up his anger he hadn't been aware of his anxiety until then. His hand shook slightly as he reached for the glass of water on the counter. Again his mind started to wander, and always to the darkest thoughts of an adulteress affair between his wife and another man.

"How we doing?" the cheery voice asked. "Have you decided yet?"

Ken heard the waitress' voice but had no idea what she said, he was too engrossed in his thoughts. "Huh, what?" he asked looking up.

"Have you decided what you want to eat?" she repeated almost as if talking to a child.

"I'm just going to have the coffee," he told her handing the menu back.

Ken sat sipping coffee and stewing in his glum thoughts. At one point, tears tried working their way back into his depression but he successfully fought them off for the second time that day.

It was almost nightfall by the time Ken pulled into his driveway. Even though he knew it wouldn't be so, somewhere in the recesses of his subconscious, he held on to the slightest optimistic thought that she would be home, waiting for him with open arms and a big kiss. One glance at the gloomy residence though, and the last of his smallest hopes were destroyed.

Once again his ire rose and took over his emotions as he walked into the lonely house. Angrily he looked around; it was as if all the anxiety he felt during the day had suddenly come to a head, he needed to lash out and the lamp sitting on the table in the front hall was his unfortunate victim. Seething with rage he flung it across the room ripping its cord from the socket and hitting the corner of his favorite painting. The blow knocked it to the floor with a crash as splinters of glass exploded from the frame and mixed with the shards of broken lamp.

Now driven by wrath, he charged up the stairs to their bedroom. Without hesitation he grabbed her clothes from the closet and marched them into the guest room. It took a number of trips with Ken carrying several hangers in each hand before all female contents of the closet had been unceremoniously sprawled over the guest bed.

Returning to the bedroom, he didn't bother removing anything from her drawer of lingerie; he simply yanked the entire drawer from the dresser and dropped it on the floor of his wife's new quarters. He was pissed and he was going to make damn sure she knew it.

Later that night, while tossing and turning in an unsuccessful attempt at sleep, he thought of something he hadn't thought of until then; what if this was all for him? What if she couldn't tell him anything because she was coming home with some kind of major surprise for him? Damn, would he feel like an ass!

Ken rolled over and looked at the clock; it was two in the morning. It had been a very strenuous day, his whole body felt like a wet wash rag but he still couldn't get to sleep, not with all the turmoil going on in his brain. He rolled on his side and for the first time since it all began, before he even realized it, a tear wandered to the corner of his eye then slowly ran down his cheek to the cotton pillowcase below.

The thought that his wife's mysterious trip could be for his benefit only served to confuse him more. Never could he remember being so conflicted with emotions, they were tearing him apart.

Ken tossed the sheet from his naked body and slowly sat up on the edge of the bed wiping the salty track of agony from his face. Giving up all hope for getting any sleep, he made his way to the kitchen and a fresh pot of coffee.

"Damn her," he mumbled out loud to himself. "Damn her all to hell anyway." Ken sat, and for the umpteenth time, went over their conversation. "She said it was important to HER," he said talking to himself again. "Why would she say that if she was doing something for ME? No, I'm pretty sure whatever she's doing she's doing it for herself, not me."

Sometime during his second cup of Columbian nectar he decided he was going ahead with his plan. He doubted it very much, but even if she did come home with some kind of surprise for him, it made no difference. She deserved to experience a little of the hell she'd put him through, he rationalized.

Once he'd made up his mind he was ready to try for some sleep again. It was getting light outside by the time he finally conked out.

Saturday, Ken started putting his plan into action. The first thing he did was to drive down to the hardware store and buy a keyed lock for the bedroom door. From now on that door will stay locked until he decides otherwise.

In the afternoon he went to the driving range to get in some practice with his irons. He was hoping it would take his mind off of things and help relax him but it did nothing for his anxiety... or his swing. In fact his inability to hit a single good shot out of an entire bucket of balls only added to his frustration.

On his way back, Ken stopped at the pizza place a few blocks from his house and ordered a small pizza to go. He didn't feel like cooking and Jennifer was always watching her weight, so seldom was he able to enjoy his favorite junk food.

It was a long, lonely night. He thought his plans for reprisal would give him more satisfaction but they really didn't. A profound sadness swept over him as he wondered where all this would lead; divorce? I wonder if she knows, he contemplated, does she have any inkling how precarious our relationship is right now?

Once again he prayed he would not find out his lovely wife was with another man, for that would certainly clinch it; there was just no way their marriage could survive a betrayal like that...he would not stand for infidelity. He shook his head in doubt as he wandered into the bedroom for another stab at getting some rest.

After another restless night, Ken found it hard to get going Sunday morning. Even after a nice hot shower his feet felt as heavy as his heart. After breakfast he tossed his clubs in the trunk of his car along with an overnight bag. He hung a suit up in the back then went back inside the house and locked the bedroom door.