87 comments/ 54019 views/ 29 favorites A Simple Enquiry By: dtiverson The immortal Dutch Leonard once said that a writer should only write about the things he knows. He wrote about "wild assholes with revolvers." And I write about nerds. Clueless is too harsh a term to describe my people. Instead, the word "innocent" comes to mind. Our virtual universe is creative and logical. It doesn't fit with the super-heated emotional landscape of a LW tale. But then again, both worlds DO exist. And the dialectic that is created when they cross paths is fun to play with. The narrator in this short piece is a bit out of the ordinary. But, he is by no means an exception to the nerd species. And IMHO his undeniably narrow perspective is no less unbelievable than the hundreds of guys who are able to simply LOOK at their wife and just "know". My last offering -- To Have and Have Not -- is semi-autobiographical and I am indeed in the middle of one of those dreadful eight month writing trudges. If you have ever gone through that you know that sometimes you have to take a break (or your head will explode). So thanks for letting me blow off some steam here - please enjoy -- DT ***** It started with an argument at dinner. I'm "special" when it comes to my relationships with people. But the wife has a few friends. And once in a while she likes to have somebody over for a meal and smalltalk. I would rather be waterboarded. Nevertheless, if I act too disinterested during one of Kari's social evenings, she gets even more "distant" when bedtime rolls around. Accordingly, I was on my best behavior with her college roomie and the woman's husband. Her former roommate was her best friend. Their relationship dated back to their first semester in Darnall Hall. I had always believed that Isobel was born with a poker up her ass. Maybe that was because she treated me with the same condescension that she did her children. Kari has told me that she was a lot of fun in college. I couldn't verify that since I didn't get to know either of them until five years later. But whatever mutated her from "fun" into the razor carrying bitch that I met at age 27 was definitely nothing I wanted to mess with. In fact Isobel was such a man hater I wondered how she had managed to produce two kids, unless it was with a turkey baster. Isobel's husband was a very good looking guy, tall and slim. He was one of the legion of slick Foreign Service types who infest Foggy Bottom. He was definitely no more than a 13. But because he was at State, he had adopted an air of phony gravitas that was only slightly less pretentious than a Russian Grand Duke. Along with the same steaming pile of judgment. I always wondered how a player like Scott had ended up with an uptight bitch like Isobel. I suspected that there may have been some Catholic guilt involved, since they both attended mass slightly more frequently than the Pope. Scott definitely didn't think much of me. That was understandable since I really don't have a job. Or to put it more accurately, I don't have a "career." Instead I sell things to the highest bidder. I am not going to explain how I got into reverse engineering code for a living. But trust me it had nothing to do with honesty, or altruism. About the time I hit puberty I found out that school was mostly boring. And I was smart enough that I was able to con my way out of doing homework. So at age 13 I had a lot of spare time on my hands. I devoted that time to learning all about the stuff that I WAS interested in. I began my lifelong journey to perdition by disassembling and decompiling trendy game programs, looking for all of the hidden keys in the binary. That made me very popular with my "gamer" friends. But by the time I got into high school keying was really no challenge. So I went looking for more interesting opportunities. And I found them in the hexadecimal of commercial code. You have no idea how much money the big tech companies will pay if you discover a zero day vulnerability in one of their products. That is especially true if they think that you might share that knowledge with the Washington Post. Ransom and blackmail are such ugly terms. I would rather view myself as Robin Hood keeping the tech giants honest. In either case, I was making well into six figures by the time I hit 21. And the gravy train had no end in sight. Since, unlike fine wine the software industry DOES NOT improve with age. I was living with my parents at the time. So, my social scene mainly comprised their basement. There are always gamer girls, mostly Goth chicks with the requisite tattoos and piercings, who are willing to hand it out for a Call of Duty key. They and my buddies and I would party in my Bat Cave most nights. We didn't drink. So we were never THAT noisy. But the whiffs of cannabis sativa that emanated up into the grownups living quarters eventually got me kicked out. That led me to a condo in Manassas. It cost in the high $200Ks. I had never paid rent for my former lair. So I had that much cash sitting in my checking account. To say the least the decor was eclectic. Fashion is nothing to me. Seriously! I had spent most of my life living in a cellar in Centreville. So, I furnished my place from the Salvation Army and stuff that I found by the side of the road. The living room was mostly futons and bean bag chairs. And the dining room table had a bullet hole in it but I liked the ambiance. All-in-all it was an idyllic life. Nevertheless, as I matured I was beginning to get that age old feeling. It was the primeval yearning to find somebody who I could love and who would love me unconditionally in return. So of course I got a dog! Buster was a brown dog, huge, muscular, smelly and devoted. His original owners tied him to a cinder block and abandoned him over in Anacostia. I rescued him from the DC Pound. He looks like the hound from hell. And he has scars all over his hide. I think he was originally bred as a fighter. But he is so sweet and gentle that he simply wouldn't fight. He had so many of the big breeds in him that it was hard to tell what type of mutt he actually was. The one thing I was certain about was that whoever the actual father was, it must have been one hell of a busy night for his mother. But nobody could ask for a better friend and companion. We talk a lot. He sounds exactly like the big black guy in the Green Mile. You would have to be a dog lover to understand how that is possible. But if you own a dog you know what I am saying. Buster and I led a happy nerd existence. Until one fine day Eve appeared in the Garden. I saw a woman walking a rat on a leash, while I was waiting for Buster at the Costello dog park. Buster inspected the bushes and I inspected her. She was tiny, perhaps five two, with dark brown hair that was cut into a neat preppy bob. She had a cute little figure. She was maybe a hundred and ten pounds, not spectacularly round, just kind of lithe and well put together. What I noticed about her were her legs. She was wearing a short dress and high heels, like she had just dashed home to take her dog out after work. The wind was blowing and so I was getting the Marilyn Monroe effect. And it showed off a great deal of beautiful, well-muscled leg and rounded buns. As the wind gusted I even got a flash of what was at the top of those long gorgeous limbs. It was a perfect jewel of a lower body. I am a leg and butt man so that definitely piqued my interest. She was coming toward me. She knew I was checking her out. I smiled at her. Her rat growled at Buster. I can never figure out Chihuahuas. Buster was perhaps 140 pounds, all thick armored fur and long dripping fangs. And she was maybe 5 pounds of deluded canine. But Buster took a step back. He will avoid confrontation at all costs which is one of his most endearing characteristics. The woman smiled at me and said, "Don't worry, she won't hurt him." Very cute! I said, "Well your princess is certainly full of herself." She had a pink collar with rhinestones so I could tell it was a girl. Kari then proceeded to stop and tell me exactly how full of herself Chiquita was. That led to coffee, which led to a date, and then to marriage. I know I should explain that. But I can't. From the time I met Kari I felt like I was on one of those moving sidewalks at Dulles. Where the inevitable destination was holy matrimony. Possibly the time was right. Maybe she was just THAT attractive. And perhaps I didn't have a choice. Kari is determined and willful to say the least. And in that respect we are BOTH like our dogs. All I know is that we bonded from the time we met. I had never actually HAD a girlfriend. I had my share of women, often for the night, sometimes for a week and in one case for an entire summer. But the arrangement had never had any sense of permanence. I'm just not THAT into other human beings. Kari was different. I am far from emotionally sensitive, but I felt comfortable and connected with her. I was a lot more secure and happy when we were together. She had a way of making me think cheerful thoughts, not my usual nerd world-weariness. Then again, maybe the attraction was the fact that she is the world's hottest fuck. Her body isn't exceptional on top. She is slim and lissome. Her boobs are nice and well formed. The word "perky" comes to mind with big beautiful nipples. Just touching them drives her nuts. But her hips and legs are heavily muscled and gorgeous. In fact, if you like beautiful long full legs Kari is your woman. And did I mention that round little ass? I asked her if she was a dancer and she told me it was genetics. Whatever it was, it was one in a million. She was particularly fond of the missionary position, which sounds kind of boring. But it was the way she used her legs during those sessions that made our bouts memorable. She would constantly manipulate me between her hard thighs like a rider with a horse. Sometimes she would spread them incredibly wide to get maximum penetration. Sometimes she would wrap them around me and pull me around in order to get a particular sensation. And Kari was NOT quiet when we fucked. In between moans, cries, groans and gasps you would get a very loud play by play about how marvelous she was feeling and how much longer and harder I had to pound her. She always kept me interested that way Kari is a very smart woman. I love smart women. She had a big girl's job with a K Street firm and she was mostly a joy to be married to. There would be the usual moments when she was pissed at me but I chalked that up to her Mediterranean heritage. She is Italian and Greek, which is a very bad combination if you are seeking a woman with an even temperament. She always seemed to be riding some emotional wave. I liked the ones that were happy and exhilarated. I was not a big fan of angry, which I occasionally got. We had a very active sex life but during the angry periods things tapered off. Her angry periods mostly revolved around our total lack of social life. That was one-hundred-percent my fault. I live in my head. I know that can be frustrating at times In general we led an interesting and fulfilling existence, just the two of us. We would talk and read and exercise the dogs and generally enjoy a laid-back life together. But sometimes Kari would be in a mood where she felt like she was missing-out on things. And even though I hate to entertain I knew I had to be a little more companionable with other people just to keep Kari on an even keel. That was the reason why I was sitting there on that particular evening with her bitch friend and the woman's condescending asshole of a husband. I forgot to mention that Isobel is the stunning one. Maybe that was why Kari hero-worshipped her. Isobel was a little taller, perhaps three inches. But she was the one with the hourglass figure, big tits, tiny waist and wide hips. She also had a much prettier face, almost classic glamour-model pretty. She would have probably been a movie star if she had Kari's mercurial personality. But the term "drippy" comes to mind with Isobel. She was either tragically depressed, or she was stewing about something. I seemed to irritate her in particular. But I have that effect on most people. I think it is because I don't really give a shit. The real festivities started after we ate. We were sitting on opposing couches with a coffee table in the middle facing each other. The fireplace was off to the side at right angles. It was a godawful picture of yuppie togetherness. Kari hired a decorator when we got married. It cost me another $100K. But I can afford it. Like I said, hunting vulnerabilities in the software industry is like picking low hanging fruit. So our condo was now decked out like a place from House Beautiful. Buster was sleeping in front of the big gas fire with his head next to my leg. Chiquita was curled up on top of his broad back like she always does. Their sleeping relationship is a touching example of doggie love. Unless Buster rolls over in his sleep. In which case he gets his ear nipped. Kari and our guests were holding snifters of Cointreau. I was drinking a Miller Lite out of a bottle. Kari was sitting with her fabulous legs tucked under her and her arm resting along the back of the couch behind me. Isobel and her husband were sitting upright, feet on the floor, at opposite ends of their couch. It was like something out of a Jane Austen novel. We live in the DC area and so it is natural to talk politics. I'm a nerd, so politics doesn't interest me. But Kari works for a lobbying firm and of course her friends were slightly more political than Karl Marx himself. They were arguing about what had to be done to stop the government's unwarranted intrusion into people's lives. Like a lot of the Foggy Bottom types, her husband was a bleeding-heart. And Isobel was more Libertarian than Thoreau. With the misplaced political idealism of Woodrow Wilson sprinkled on top. That was especially true when it came to the concept of personal privacy. The very idea that the government was monitoring the cell traffic of private citizens enraged her. I refrained from telling her about NSA's Massive Data Repository and its zettabytes of storage. Since I was afraid THAT would cause her to actually stroke out. If I had been smart I would have just shut up. But the whole discussion was like listening to third graders talking about string theory. God! They didn't have a clue. I finally said with some irritation in my voice, "You don't HAVE any personal privacy. Forget the Government. Anybody with the slightest bit of technical proficiency can invade every aspect of your private life if they want to." They all looked at me with the same curled lip that they would give somebody who had just loudly farted in church. Scott, Isobel's husband, said with jolly contempt, "Now really Tommy, how could you say something like that? I understand that you don't work but that is just plain naïve." His sort of condescension pisses me off. I am not a total weenie. I said with a bit of edge in my voice, "Seriously???!! Naïve!! Give me a second will you." And I picked up my smartphone, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of me. I buy malicious code the way most guys buy golf accessories. The things that I get off of blackhat sites are "recreational" items for a person like me. All of the sites I visit are on the Onion Router so they are invisible except in the darkweb. And I buy stuff with bitcoins. Nobody in their right mind would use a credit card in places like that. My little pets can come in handy if you want to do magic tricks at a boring party, or absolutely pry into somebody else's life. Of course none of the three sitting there had ever heard of Bluetooth security. So I was able to drop everything that I needed on their phones in about 15 seconds. In fact, it took less time for me to totally own them, than it did for Kari to bring out another bowl of guacamole dip. I glanced at Kari and I said, "Call Scott." She looked puzzled and dialed his number. His phone rang, my phone lit up. He picked it up and said, "Hello Kari." I added, "And hello to both of you." They BOTH looked thunderstruck. Not the reaction I expected but gratifying none the less. I said, "That is a man-in-the-middle app. I just dropped it on your phone. All I needed was to be within 30 feet of you in order to do that. Now I can listen in any time you call each other." The two of them looked stunned and more than a little bit nervous. Isobel spluttered, "But-but-but!! That's SO criminal!! Where did you get something like that?" I said, "I got mine off of the Krak-u website for 19 bucks worth of bitcoins. But you can buy less powerful phone cloning tools off the regular internet" Kari and Scott exchanged meaningful glances. It was like they had never expected me to be THAT weird. Then Kari glared at me like I had handed her a diamondback rattlesnake. She said with real agitation, "Take that thing off my phone!!" I said, "Your wish is my command, oh most loving of wives." And I made an overly dramatic point of wiping the thing. Kari read WAAAY too much into my comment. I could see it in her face. I didn't get it. She IS loving. Then I gestured theatrically and said, "For my next trick I want Scott and Kari to go out onto the deck and just talk for a minute. Close the door after you go so you are sure I can't hear you." They looked puzzled. I said, "Humor me." Both of them very hesitantly went out on the deck. I activated the other item, which I had only dropped on Kari's phone. Bluesnarfing is illegal. But she was my wife. Of course it really didn't matter who I Bluebugged since the authorities would never catch me anyhow. I instantly had picture and sound on MY phone. She was holding HER phone in her hand looking at it like it might bite. Her face was a study in concern. Scott was standing directly behind her looking over her shoulder. Kari said with considerable agitation in her voice, "Do you think he knows?" Scott said, "I certainly hope not. I had no idea he would do something like that. It's downright evil." The look on his face was full of anxiety. I opened the patio door and said in my cheeriest voice, "You can come in now." They both trooped in looking uneasy. Isobel had heard everything. She was looking puzzled and maybe a little pissed off. Of course, that was nothing new. Pissed off is her normal expression. I held up my phone and played back their entire conversation, complete with video. Both Kari and Scott's faces went pale. I understood. He was embarrassed getting caught dissing me. And Kari probably felt guilty for letting him do it. I said, "There is no need to get upset. I am just trying to show you what your world is really like. Consider it part of the evening's entertainment." That was said in a conciliatory tone. Since it was obvious that I had let some kind of skunk loose in the ladies' bridge club. Isobel looked like a hunting dog that had just spotted a bird. And she was definitely royally pissed at Scott. Meanwhile Kari and Scott were having a frantic whispered argument by the patio door. Isobel wasn't missing THAT either. I tried a weak chuckle. I was thoroughly mixed up. I didn't want to cause problems. I was just making a point about personal privacy. I grinned lamely, "So no harm no foul, right?" That didn't seem to help. Isobel hit her husband. I mean she really whaled on him. And then she went stomping out the front door without another word. I heard the car start and the squeal of tires. A Simple Enquiry Kari glowered at me and said, "How could you DO something like that. I know you're insensitive but that was a horrible thing to do." I said, meekly, "I'm really sorry but I don't understand the problem? All I did was use your phones to make a point about security in the information age. Here, let me take the bugs off of them." And I made a big show of wiping both devices. Scott said with contempt in his voice, "You are an adolescent fool. I can't believe that a wonderful woman like Kari could LIVE with an idiot like you, let alone marry you." "Kari, I need a ride home. Can you take me?" And he marched out before I could say anything. I said to Kari, "I'll come too. I really am sorry if I caused any problem. I just want to apologize" She looked at me like I had shit myself and said, "You've caused enough trouble. YOU just stay here." With that, she threw on a coat and rushed out the door behind Scott. I heard the garage door open and the sound of her car backing out. I cleaned up the dishes and the rest of the party things. But she still wasn't back. So I went up to our bedroom and fell asleep. ------------------------------- Kari was very withdrawn the next morning. She answered everything I said in monosyllables. I knew she was mad at me and frankly I couldn't understand why. I had made her friends look a little silly the night before. But that didn't seem like something I should be punished for in the morning. Kari also looked troubled. Her normally neat and well-kept appearance was disheveled. It was almost like she had been awake all night. I said, just to make conversation, "What time did you get in last night? I would have waited up but I just got too sleepy." She looked at me like I was cross-examining her. She said, "I was gone a couple of hours. Why do you care? Are you stalking me now?" I said, "Of course not, it's just that it only takes twenty minutes to their house. "I knew that Scott was taking care of you. But I was expecting you to be back in an hour and when you didn't return I got concerned." She turned very white and sat down heavily in a chair. I was about to ask her what THAT was all about when the dogs interrupted to tell me that they needed their morning constitutional, IMMEDIATELY!So I stood up and grabbed Buster's leash. He came bustling up in his slightly awkward swaying manner, pant-pant-slobber-slobber, "Are we going for our walk now Boss?" I said to Kari, "Are you going to walk Chiquita or do you want me to take her too." She looked at me warily like I was trying to trick her into something and said, "You take her. I need to take a shower and get cleaned up." There was something significant in that statement. But I didn't get what she was telling me. It was like she expected a confrontation. So I grabbed Chiquita's leash too. She was dancing at my feet, "Hurry Senor I have to go so bad." I walked down to the dog park with my two dog hitch. Buster is the most accommodating dog on the planet except when he is on his way to the dog park. Then he is a little pig-headed. I have a massive choke chain around his thick neck. It isn't a macho thing. It's something that I have to use for the times when he gets it in his head that he just wants to GO He was gasping as we walked. That was because the chain closed off his windpipe. He's a wonderful dog, loyal and loving. But he is not too bright. So of course the fact that he was choking to death didn't make him stop pulling any less enthusiastically. I figured I could loosen the choke chain when he passed out. In the meantime Chiquita was tripping along next to him with her little legs a blur of motion looking for all the world like the alpha-dog. We did our business and came back. To my surprise Kari was not there. I tried to call her but she wasn't answering her phone. I had a feeling that she was deliberately ducking me. I had taken all the nasty stuff off her phone but it was obvious that she still didn't trust me. I pinged her and she was at Tysons Corner. The doorbell rang shortly thereafter. I was in the middle of decompiling a new version of a popular tax preparation program. I sensed that there would be a considerable amount of ill-gotten booty in that mess. Like she normally does, Chiquita went nuts. Then Buster had to bustle over to add his two cents. His bark is so deep it rattles the windows. He never barked before he met Chiquita but she has taught him a number of bad habits. I was kicking both of them out of the way as I answered the door. So, I didn't immediately see who was waiting for me on the other side. When I did I nearly slammed it back shut. Standing there in all of her condescending glory was Isobel herself. I would have probably been happier with a visit from a Jehovah's Witness. But she is my wife's friend and there had been that misunderstanding last night. She was probably there to straighten things out. So I opened the door to let her in. She said, "Is this a good time? Can I come in and talk?" I stepped aside and said puzzled, "Kari's not here." The bitch actually gave me a look that wasn't COMPLETELY disdainful and said, "I know that. That's why I came over NOW. Do you have any coffee?" Then without as much as a by-your-leave she walked past me in the direction of our kitchen. We have an open plan downstairs and the walk back to the kitchen is perhaps 30 feet straight ahead. Isobel was wearing FMPS, a pair of skin tight jeans, which must have cost $300 and a loose peasant style top with a scooped neck that showed off an impossible amount of cleavage. If it had been anybody but my wife's bitch friend I would have been drooling. Even so, the sight of those big round buns twitching their way toward the back of the condo was making something in my pants go, Booooinnnng! Isobel may have been a she-devil but she had an ass to die for. She was also trailing a cloud of musky perfume that suggested savage jungle mating rituals. She sat down in one of the kitchen chairs while I popped a pod into our coffee maker. I handed the dark aromatic result to her. I just assumed that a woman like Isobel would drink it black, even though it was about the same color and viscosity as diesel oil. She thanked me with her eyes and cupped the mug in both of her hands to take her first sip. I sat down opposite with a quizzical look on my face. She took her time. So I studied her. She was made up to kill. Of course I have never seen her NOT made up like that. Her features are absolutely gorgeous. I concentrated on her face because if I had looked a little further south I would have fallen into the deep valley that she was presenting to me. I recognize a trap when I see one. She knew that if I had looked at those two awesome peaks I would be tempted to bury my face between them and make "motor-boat" noises. I tried the obvious conversational gambit, "So what brings you here at noon on a Sunday?" She leaned back in her chair presenting those huge things in a way that felt like she was aiming them at me. I had the same visual image you get watching a battleship elevate its big guns before firing. She said, "I wanted to talk to you about last night. I wondered what you were going to do about it." I was flabbergasted. I had not even touched her phone. And now she was asking me to make some kind of amends? I said with anger in my voice, "I don't know. What would you LIKE me to do?" I was going to put the ball back in her court. She actually looked approving, like my pissed-off response was something that had elevated her opinion of me. She said, "Well, you have Scott shitting a brick that's for sure. Not that he doesn't deserve it. What ELSE do you plan to do to him? " I said, "I can't believe you are asking me THAT. I am really mad at Scott." After all he HAD called me an adolescent fool. "But I don't plan to do anything else to him. He has already learned a hard lesson don't you think?" He knew that I wasn't a totally hopeless weenie now. She looked at me with newfound respect and said, "He sure did. He's terrified. He's sworn that nothing really happened and I believe him. But I still haven't decided what I am going to do about it." I thought that is kind of a strange response. What does SHE know about Bluetooth security? She said, "I actually want to know what you are going to do about Kari. She is terrified too you know? She called me an hour ago in a total panic." My Kari, scared? Of what? Maybe THAT was why she was acting so strangely this morning? I really had no idea what Isobel was talking about but I put on a wise face. If my wife was afraid of something, or somebody, I didn't want it to look like I was COMPLETELY clueless. Isobel looked at me shrewdly. She said appraisingly, "She'll do anything to make it up to you. She's afraid that she has lost you forever and she can't stand the thought. "She is really very naïve and stupid but she loves you to death. "I have known her for thirteen years and I can reassure you as a woman and her best friend that you will never have any reason to doubt her." The discussion was getting weird. I had never doubted Kari in anything. And it seemed really presumptuous for her friend to go there. I felt like I needed to make it clear that I was NOT going to let anybody speak for my wife on a matter as important as trust. So I said in a voice that might have been a little over-harsh, "I know Kari. And I KNOW that she will justify my trust. That's because I am going to make certain of it." I always seek to keep the lines of communication open between us. Isobel gave me a look. It was respect mingled with something else. She said, "You have an amazingly tough and practical mind. But don't you want a little revenge?" I said, "For what? It's over now and I am absolutely certain that it will never happen again." I for one was finished with electronic tricks, no matter how serious the provocation was. And frankly, the more I thought about Scott and his insults the longer it would be before I saw HIM. Isobel looked disappointed. She said very meaningfully, "Well, be sure to call me if you ever do. I'll make it worth your while." Wow! That was mysterious. I had no idea what she was implying. She had spent six and a half years treating me like I was four years old. And now she seemed to be offering something to make up for her behavior. But I didn't have the slightest idea what it was. On the other hand, I knew it would be impolite to just blow off her offer. So I said with certainty in my voice, "You will be the first one I'll call if I ever do." She looked at me with an unspoken promise. Then without another word she put her coffee cup down, got up from the table and sauntered enticingly back toward the door. I rose to follow her. At the door she turned toward me and said with a lot of heavy significance in her voice. "Remember what I told you. Kari knows she made a mistake and she will never make it again. You can count on it." I knew Kari would be a lot smarter about her virtual presence in the future. But I was still going to keep an eye on her. So I smiled back at Isobel and said, "I am going to make certain of THAT. You know the old Reagan line -- trust but verify." She actually gave me a seductive look. My shoes nearly melted. Suddenly I understood what Kari was talking about. Isobel was indeed something VERY special. Then she opened the door and twitched back out to her Mercedes without a backward glance. Kari arrived home shortly after that. It was almost like her arrival was staged to coincide with Isobel's departure. She had a pizza with her and a six-pack for me. I said, "Where have you been all afternoon? I was getting worried." She looked indignantly at me and said, "I went shopping down at Tysons. Where did you think I went?" I said, "Da-nada, it was just that you didn't answer your phone. So I pinged you." I was going to tell her about Isobel's visit. But before I could get a word out Kari looked at me with considerable anger and said, "I'm getting tired of this cat and mouse game you are playing with me." I was truly bewildered. I think it showed on my face. I felt like I had to make some kind of absolute statement in order to reassure her. I said with some force in my voice, "I'm definitely NOT playing any games. Let me assure you that if I have a problem I will resolve it immediately, directly and forcefully. And I promise that I will not pull any punches when I do." She clapped her hands over her mouth, looked horrified and bolted out of the room. She ran upstairs to the master bedroom and slammed the door. I was NOW super-concerned. I felt like my little parlor games had driven a wedge between the two of us. So I tip-toed up to the bedroom door to apologize. As I opened it I heard Kari agitatedly talking to somebody. She was just saying, "I TOLD you lat night. It is absolutely OVER." She looked up and saw me standing there perplexed. Shock and awe doesn't come close to describing her expression. I said with a quizzical smile on my face, "What's over? Who were you talking to? Was that about what happened last night? Is Scott still angry? If he is you can tell him tough shit from me. As far as I'm concerned he's history." She just sat there on the bed looking at me like I was a King Cobra and she was a bird. I said amiably, "I only wanted to prove a point. I don't feel like I need to prove it again." I knew that they all understood how scary the electronic jungle was NOW. There was no reason to discuss it any further. I said, "But I really don't want to see either of them for a while. And I am still trying to decide what to do about Scott." She gasped and blanched. He had not treated me with much respect. But her reaction was so extreme I thought I would try to dial down the stress a bit. I said as meekly as I could, "Forget him. I just hope we can leave this behind us now." She looked at me with wide-eyed wonder. She said with a bewildering amount of hope in her voice, "You DO? You are willing to forgive and forget?" Well, considering how disrespectful and insulting Scott had been last night that was asking for a lot. I thought for a moment. Then I said to myself, "What the fuck!!" It was all water over the dam anyhow. I said, "I love you Kari, I am not going to let the past come between you and me in the future, no matter how badly I might have been treated. I just don't want it to EVER happen again." She looked at me with eagerness and absolute sincerity and said, "Thank God!! I love you Tommy. I swear that it will never happen again!!" That apology seemed excessively melodramatic for something that was nothing more than a minor argument. But I will never understand women. She rose from the bed and threw herself into me, clasping her arms around my neck as she did. She was sobbing now. I was puzzled but I am also a guy. And there is nothing like make-up sex after an argument. She turned her mouth up to me inviting the hottest open mouth kiss she had ever given me. As we kissed, she threw those marvelous legs around my hips and proceeded to plaster herself against me hunching her mound on my rapidly growing interest. I walked us toward the bed with her still wrapped around me. She was beginning to make little moans. I dumped her on the bed and began to struggle out of my pants. She was frantically pushing her panties down her legs with a "fuck-me" look on her face that I had not seen since the honeymoon. It was like she had reached some new level in our relationship. She likes missionary. She scootched back on the bed so that she was lying on the pile of pillows next to the headboard. I crawled up on the bed between her widely spread legs and plunged into the hottest and wettest hole I had ever fallen down. She groaned loudly spreadeagled and then pulled her legs up and tightly against me and started hunching, like she was riding bareback on a horse. Her powerful legs were working on my sides with the same galloping rhythm that a rider would have with a racehorse. And that was rocking me in and out of her white hot silkiness at a fantastic rate. Her arousal was tangible. Then she started to vocalize. She was begging me to fuck her and never stop. She has always been insistently loud but she had never been this abandoned. She was saying over and over, "Fuck your little slut baby!! I'm such a slut!! Oh fuck MEEEE!!" That was something new in the script? Then she went off on a frenzy of bucking and grunting that made me think that she was going to hump us both off the bed. All the while she was moaning, "Ohhhh Godddd!! So GOOD!! So GOOD!!" Suddenly she stopped breathing. THEN she threw her head back and just yelled, "I'm CUMMING, OH GOD YESSSS!! And she held herself with her muscles locked in a rigid bow. She did that for such a length of time that I was worried that she was having a seizure. She finally collapsed in a quivering heap. That pushed me over the edge and I came so hard that I thought that the fillings in my back teeth would melt. We lay there on our backs panting. I finally struggled up on one elbow. She was looking at me frightened and uncertain, like she needed some sort of reaffirmation. I decided to praise her. I said, "That was spectacular. What brought THAT on?!" Apparently, that wasn't the validation she was looking for because she began to cry hard. She was blubbering every kind of little endearment at me. It was all gibberish since it sounded like she was apologizing. Which made no sense coming from a person who had just fucked my brains out. I kissed her on each eye to dry her tears and said, "I love you Kari. Isn't that good enough?" That sent her off on another round of wailing. She hugged herself to me like she was not going to let me go. I tried to lighten the mood. I said, "Hey, there is a piazza and beer waiting for us downstairs." She just clung to me saying over and over, "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me." This was getting too weird. I said, "The only reason I am leaving you is because we need to eat." And I kissed her on her forehead. I sat up and retrieved my pants. She was still lying where we had finished, her dress pulled up, legs spread wide, fluids leaking out of her, sobbing. She looked so vulnerable and sexy I climbed back on the bed and took her in my arms again. I said in the most forthright tone I could muster, "Maybe you didn't understand my world yesterday. But I KNOW that you understand it now. And I am SURE that you will always be aware that honesty is the best policy with me." She went back to looking terrified. Damn! I wish I was better with people. She stayed upstairs for a long time. It HAD been an especially hot session but it felt like there were other things going on besides the sex. It almost seemed like she had experienced a "Come to Jesus" moment and wanted to think about it for a while. Her behavior since dinner last night had been absolutely mystifying. She finally came downstairs in a short white linen dress that showed off those fabulous legs. It was so pure and girlish that it looked like she was going to her first Communion. She was so innocent looking that I decided that whatever had been going on between us was, in the words of the great American philosopher Frank Sinatra, "Just one of those things." And it was better to "fuggetaboutit". She and I and the dogs enjoyed the pizza together. While we ate she wanted to talk about something we had been putting off until she got her career in order, which was kids. A Simple Enquiry I was not particularly interested in the little critters. But Kari was getting into her early 30s and she thought that she wanted to try. I asked her the obvious question, "why now?" And she said that she wanted to cement our bond as a family. I said, "Well, let's ease into this slowly. I don't mind the idea. In fact I like it. But this is still a little sudden. Are you sure this is what you want?" She looked at me and said with deep conviction in her voice, "I know what I want. I have never been surer." Well, I was glad that after six years of marriage she had finally figured out what she wanted.