"A good wife, who can find?" Ancient proverb
It was 5 AM Sunday morning on the east coast when my cell phone started pinging. We live in Williamsburg, VA where I'm a senior partner for an international law firm. Zoe, my smokin-hot wife of 18 years had been in Vegas for the weekend. She was chaperoning her niece Susie and her bridesmaids' bachelorette party along with Susie's mom, her older sister, Gwen. The caller ID simply read, Las Vegas Gov. I'm Mike Taylor, and this probably wasn't going to be good.
(Phone call beginning with Mike's answer)
"Hello, Mike Taylor speaking."
"Hey babe, I know it is early, I'm sorry to wake you."
"No worries Zoe, I'd be up in thirty minutes anyway. You OK? Everything alright?"
"I'm fine honey, but I'm afraid I need to tell you about something I've done. I don't think you're going to be happy."
The hair on Mike's neck began to stand up.
"Well, the best way to deliver bad news is get right to it. Go ahead, I'm listening."
"Last night Susie and her girls decided to party at the Hustler male strip club to get things started. Man, those boys are chiseled! Anyway, we hung there for about two hours drinking while the youngsters were dropping fives and tens in the dancer's G-strings. Gwen and I sipped on our light beers and mostly chatted although I admit I did drop a couple of tens on one particularly hot red head."
"So far so good, then????"
"Well, we ended up back at one of the dance clubs in the Mirage. Again, Gwen and I mostly just hung out and kept the bride and her pals in check. There were plenty of men, young and old, hot, and plain, sexy, and shy. I mean you could have your pick of any dozen and not made a dent in the options. The girls began dancing with some of the young meat while Gwen and I sat feeling old and out of place."
"I assume that didn't last too long."
"No babe, this one young college stud kept coming over trying to buy me drinks and get me to dance. Gwen had a fella hitting on her as well. My guy was probably 6'3" and a total hottie in the looks department. He had a smile that wouldn't quit, and he just kept flirting with me; telling me how hot I was and how I should dance with a real man."
"And did you... dance with a real man?"
"Well yes and no. I mean he was only 21 so he wasn't old and experienced enough to be a real man, but he was built like one and somebody had certainly trained him on hitting all the right buttons of a lonely girl missing her man. As I said, Gwen was preoccupied with fighting off her own alpha, so I was on my own. Finally, after he persisted and wouldn't go away I agreed to one dance."
"Did you keep it to one dance my wife?" Mike was now sitting up on the edge of the bed listening and running his right hand back and forth over his scalp as his anger grew. He knew where this was headed.
"Of course, babe, it was only one dance, but it was a slow one and he kept grinding into me, leaving little to the imagination. And when I say little, I'm not talking about his cock. This young buck was hung. I was breathing heavy, and I'm sure I was also a bit flushed. Any gal would be in this scenario."
"Continue..."
"I thanked him for the dance and gave him a small peck on the cheek then returned to my table. He followed and kept insisting we should leave and find a quieter place to get more acquainted. I was polite and thanked him but declined. Really Mike, I wasn't flirting or anything like leading him on, but it was clear he wanted me and intended to have his way with me."
The last comment was met with silence, so Zoe continued.
