Foreword:
This is VERY LOOSELY BASED on the Paula Broadwell/General Petraeus scandal. HOWEVER, I want to make it perfectly clear that this is just a work of fiction, and isn't to be taken as fact or even that seriously. :P
This is a spy tale that has a cheating slut wife in it. If you take it too seriously, that's Not My Problem. lol
I still hope everyone enjoys the ride. :)
I.D.
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I'm waiting now. Sitting here with my Colt M1911-A1 in one hand and a shot glass full of some VERY expensive Scotch in the other. Waiting to be taken into custody. I set down the empty shot glass and pick up one of the General's cigars, and light it up. I puff on it a bit, and the flavor and nicotine soothe my nerves. Yes, I'm waiting for the flashing lights and sirens to blare as the police pull up outside. Why, you might ask? Well, that tale actually starts years ago, when I met and fell in love with Paula Hanson.
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We were both in the Army at the time. I was in my second year of my second four year hitch, and had achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant (SSG). I was Active Duty, with Airborne and Ranger tabs on my sleeve.
Paula was a Captain in the California National Guard, with a degree in Journalism. We met at the club on Ft. Irwin one night, and hit it off, even though she was a part-time officer, and I worked for a living. All I know is that with her gorgeous blue eyes and dark flowing brunette hair, I was smitten.
Me? I'm John Blakely, and I had saved enough money during my Enlistments to go to College at UCLA with the help of the G.I. Bill. Paula, as it turned out, had gone UCLA as well, and she still had her house nearby. She gave me her address and cell number, and told me that when I got out, to come stay with her while I was going to school.
God, she's a tornado 'tween the sheets! During my four years at UCLA, getting my own degree in Computer Science, we were inseparable. For some odd reason, she loved me, and I, for more obvious reasons, loved her with all my heart, soul, and being.
I won't lie and say I wasn't tempted to stray occasionally. Hell, I was no angel. But with Paula, I knew that she was the best thing to ever happen to me.
Fast forward a bit, and we still didn't have any kids. Not that I didn't want them, but she was still in the middle of her career, and I wasn't going to stand in her way. Hell, she made exactly the same as I did. I took my degree and got a great job at a worldwide tech firm.
When Paula got the enviable task of writing a well known General's biography, she had just been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in the Cali National Guard. Hey, let's just say that Jack Nicholson was right in "A Few Good Men". I hadn't truly lived until I had a blowjob from a superior officer.
Oh, and before you go screaming "FRATERNIZATION!" at me, we were NOT IN DIRECT CHAIN OF COMMAND when we first started dating.
The problems started when Paula had to go to Afghanistan to get General Peterson's accounts for the book. She was gone for what should have been two weeks, and ended up being gone for an entire month.
When she got home, she seemed more reserved and distant. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that she had seen some stuff over there that really rattled her. Having seen combat, I could relate, and held her close.
We made love that night, and after that, she seemed to come back to me. She was once again the Paula I fell in love with.
A couple of years later, we moved to Washington, D.C., and that was when our lives really got turned upside down. First, I was headhunted for the CIA, and put in charge of their main office's IT division in Langley, Virginia. I was now making better money than I was in the private sector.
Paula was ecstatic that I got the job, and she was also ecstatic to be working alongside General David Peterson again, gaining more fodder for his biography. The General had been appointed as Director of the CIA, so we were working almost side by side. I got to meet him at a social function that I went to with Paula, and he seemed like a good guy.
Well, some things shouldn't be taken at face value. That night was when my suspicions started.
I also met the General's wife, who was a very sweet lady, if a bit on the heavy side. SHE, I could take at face value, at least. She loved her husband, just as I loved my wife.
No, the suspicions started when they danced four dances in a row, and his hand drifted downward to Paula's sweet ass during a slow number. That was it, and I didn't give a fuck if he was head of the fuckin' CIA, I'd had enough.
I walked out onto the dance floor and cut in as graciously as possible. In other words, I had a fist clenched and was more than ready to deck the sonuvabitch if he didn't allow me to dance with my wife. Luckily for both of us, he handed her off to me, and I let her know in low, but no uncertain terms, that what I saw of him fondling her ass was not cool.
Paula just laughed it off, and said he was just an old letch. I tried to laugh it off too, but found that the first seeds of doubt in her faithfulness and his honor had already been sown.
Paula and I really had it out that night when we got home.
"Sweetheart, I am sick of that guy taking liberties with you on the dance floor! I don't give a rat's ass if he's head of the Goddamn CIA! That does NOT give him the right to feel up another man's wife, especially MY wife!" I said between gritted teeth.
"Stop being jealous, baby! He was just flirting." Paula smirked. She might not have been taking it seriously, but I was.
"No, Paula. I am not just being jealous. And you did nothing to stop him or discourage him. What does that tell me right there?" I said with some malice in my voice. Yeah, I was jealous. But I was also seeing some stuff that I really didn't like, and they seemed to be rubbing my nose in it!
"It should tell you to trust your wife, John." Paula was pulling the trust card. Ok, no problem.
"I do trust you, sweetheart. I just don't trust him." I shook my head slowly.