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Birth Day Club

By: Magicidan



Since my last story, Scorched Earth, appeared I have heard from several men who had a similar cheating wife tale to tell. When I encouraged them to write it for Literotica each begged off saying they were not writers.

After some discussion I agreed to interview each by phone and write their experience so others in similar situations can see how they resolved the problem. If this story is well received I shall write the next. 

Once again, this story was told to me by a complete stranger. I asked him to change the names and locations so it is quite impossible for me to verify its accuracy. Did it really happen or am I a gullible romantic. I leave it to the reader to decide.

Keeping in mind the old adage, the story was so good that if it didn't happen it should have, I present for your consideration Birth Day Club. 

*****

Amy was my first girlfriend. I was her first boyfriend. We got married the Sunday after we graduated high school because we'd rehearsed the honeymoon a little early. I don't think anyone was fooled by the white wedding gown; we were eight month pregnant when we made it legal. 

Things were pretty hard at first but my family was fantastic. We lived in their basement which had some great advantages including free rent and free baby sitters-thanks mom and dad-while we attended college. It took a little longer but we both earned degrees from the University of Illinois. 

Pastor Roberts must have done real good when he pronounced us "'till death do you part' because a couple decades later we still acted like newlyweds. Our friends, particularly the men, gave us a hard time because we still held hands and kissed for no reason. Anyone who saw us knew we were lovers for life who took the "forsaking all others vow very literally." 

Life was good. We both had careers we enjoyed, a nice house in the suburbs, and our son was on a full ride scholarship at a Big 10 school. I guess I was so happy I never saw the first hints storm clouds were gathering on the horizon. 

It all began when Amy was invited to join a group of friends from high school who gathered once a year for a Birth Day Club. They met at a restaurant and exchanged inexpensive gifts while catching up on their lives and families over the last year. 

This was a classic hens night...no men allowed. The waitresses must have hated them because there would be separate checks. About half were on perpetual diets and ordered water while the balance nursed a glass of house wine until more was lost to evaporation than consumption. The tip jar didn't overflow with that group.

It may sound cruel but most of the members of the BD Club would have trouble getting laid in a lumber camp. Most were divorced and bitter; they were also overweight, badly dressed, and looked older than their forty years on this planet. There were, however, a couple of exceptions, most notably my wife, Amy. She turned heads everywhere she went. Unfortunately, her vanity, especially after a couple of cocktails, made her an attractive target to predators.

She always laughed when I chased off some weasel who tried to talk her up at a party, saying I was cute when I acted jealous. She would swear she would never give me a reason not to trust her. "It's not you I'm worried about would be my answer." 

So life went on...seasons change. Gradually the BD Club evolved from once a year to every six months than to monthly. I never begrudged my wife a night out because it gave me an evening alone to do whatever I wanted; or nothing at all. 

Amy started out dressing down for the Club, a nice pair of pants or a knee length skirt, a plain blouse, and a jacket or sweater. Underneath she wore a formidable bra that looked like a floatation device and a pair of non-descript white underwear. When she came home we would go straight to bed, but not to sleep. Amy once said after listening to the men haters spout their anti-marriage venom she wanted to do something special for me; a nice, vanilla, missionary style fuck. 

Call me dense but I never connected the dots when my wife began wearing Victoria's Secret lingerie to BD Club. I honestly thought she did it to look hot for me when she got home. I mean, the main reason I looked forward to Club night was Amy started coming home all randy and ready to shake the headboard. We fucked like teenagers in heat. I actually had a fleeting thought about asking about her sudden amorous state but after 21 years of marriage a guy learns not to question a striptease followed by an enthusiastic suck and fuck from his wife. 

That all changed the day I received the call. 

The woman's voice said, "If you want to know what your loving wife has been up to you'll shut up and listen." I said, "Okay." She sounded familiar but I couldn't place her.

Over the next thirty minutes she regaled me with the tale of how my wife earned the nickname Bar Bait. 

It seems about six months ago Birth Day Club settled on Rick's Hi-way Lounge for their monthly get together. At first they gave any men who wandered over to their table the bums rush. Then one night a round of drinks appeared from "the guy at the end of the bar." He held up his drink in a toast to the group but never left his bar stool. Diane, one of the lesser thinkers, wandered over to thank him on her way back from the ladies room. That was all the invitation he needed to lay claim to the empty chair next to my wife. Their eyes flashed at this break in etiquette. Nothing was said but the club got up in unison to leave. He tried to joke, "Was it something I said?" as they filed out. 

The next month a different loser sent a drink over for Amy, but no one else. She sent it right back. Her friends taunted "cheap-cheap" like a bunch of hungry birds as the loser slunk away. 

Somehow Amy forgot to mention that funny story when we talked about her evening. Instead all I had heard was how sad and empty her friend's lives were. 

My mystery caller continued, 

The following month two men, early thirties at best, sat down at the bar. They immediately caught the eyes of the club as they were a step above the typical clientele, both in looks and dress. Polite smiles were exchanged.

That was the first night the bar offered music and dancing and there was now a two drink minimum. Their low budget evening was falling apart when they saw the new drink prices. The two men at the bar overheard their chorus of whines about how expensive everything was and offered to buy a round to toast the birthday girls. While they debated accepting the offer two huge platters of appetizers appeared on their table. "Compliments of the gentlemen from the bar," the waitress announced. The club set on them like locust on a field of grain.

The consensus was they would accept one round of drinks. Carol stood up and shouted at Amy, "Good work bar bait, looks like you hooked us a couple guys who aren't afraid to spend money on beautiful women." Everyone roared and the nickname stuck.

Before Amy's lips touched her Gray Goose vodka gimlet Dick, the obvious leader, shed his wingman, Louis, and started to cull her from the herd. "I'm guessing you're thirty, maybe thirty one at most," was his opening line. She laughed. "You need glasses." And the game was on. 

Louis eyeballed the group and squeezed a chair between Laura and Mandy, two of the more presentable member of the group. 

When the band started playing Dick monopolized Amy while Louis got passed around like a cold. He did not look like he was having as much fun as his friend who had managed to back Amy into a dark corner of the dance floor. She put up a good fight but eventually let him keep his hands on her ass when they slow danced. 

Another round of drinks was delivered, compliments of Dick and Louis. These were hoisted in a toast to the beautiful birthday girls.

When the band took a breather they returned to their table. Dick tried to pull Amy onto his lap. After a brief struggle she broke away and excused herself to go to the ladies room. As was routine, three of the women joined her.

While she sat in a stall her wonderful friends were giggling like high school girls at a sock hop; they also were encouraging her to shit on our marriage for a couple trays of appetizers and two rounds of drinks.

"I think he likes you!"

"He is soooo fine." Patti said. "I would do him in a second."

"He would kill you!"

"I would die with a smile."

Amy did not respond to the banter which continued for several more minutes until, with make-up restored, they pronounced themselves beautiful again. 

Then one of those fortuitous things happened. As they were walking back to the table a random bar patron bumped into Amy and spilled a bloody Mary all over her white blouse. She went back into the ladies room and tried to wash it out. When she saw how transparent her wet blouse was she buttoned up her jacket and announced she was calling it a night. Several others commented how fast the night had slipped by and said they were also leaving.

A couple of the women tried to talk Amy into staying but she stood firm and circled the table giving cheek kisses to her friends. Dick, pretending to be gallant, offered to walk my wife to her car. She naively accepted.

I left about a couple of minutes later," the caller continued. "I saw Amy try to give him a friendly peck on the cheek but he turned his head and forced his tongue into her mouth. After a few seconds she stopped resisting and responded. Without breaking his kiss that bastard lifted her onto her car's hood and got her skirt bunched up around her waist. The parking lot isn't too well lit but I could see she was wearing nylons and garters and his hands were where they shouldn't be. I hate to say this John but she wasn't trying to stop him. But you got lucky that night. Before he could do anything more big mouth Carol and Patti showed up and started chanting, "We know what you're doing...we know what you're doing. That put a stop to things right away.

Amy pushed him off and said "I have to go home"

She hopped in her car and fired up the engine. "When will I see you again?" 

Amy ignored him but big mouth Carol said "We'll be back the first Friday of next month...and bring a few more friends. We damn near wore out Louis." 

I remember that night vividly because Amy's white blouse had a large red stain. I also remember the sex was beyond incredible...she was a very vocal, wild woman. Now it damn near drove me insane to know the reason why it was so memorable. 

I was real surprised your wife showed up last night. I mean you two are the most married people I've ever met and I couldn't believe she would risk screwing it up to get groped by some slick asshole on the make.

Well I got there right at seven and wouldn't you know but that bastard Dick showed up with a couple of his friends about five minutes later. He walked up to Amy and kissed her square on the mouth, not open mouth but like a cat marking his territory. She made no attempt to put him in his place. 

A couple BD Clubbers were pretty vocal in reminding your wife she was a married mother but that idiot big mouth Carol kept talking over them saying, "Shut up or we'll be paying for our own drinks. 'Amy's a big MILF who can handle herself.' All hell broke loose with everyone yelling at the same time. We got so loud the owner came out from behind the bar and told us to take it outside if we can't act civilized.

If you want to keep score, you can count Becky and Ann Marie as your friends. They laid into Carol for trying to pimp out your wife for free booze. Becky then collared the waitress and said we were refusing the freebies and demanded to pay for our own meals and drinks.

I couldn't believe it but Amy started spouting some crap about being polite and accepting their birthday presents with no strings attached. Becky stood up and said hell no! We don't even let our husbands or boyfriends join us so why should we let horn dogs. 

It was getting real uncomfortable in there with the three men staring at us. I could not believe the stupid things those fat asses were saying, all to get some free drinks. 

It finally came to a head when Becky and Ann Marie said they were disgusted and walked out saying they don't hang out with garbage that would sell out a friend.

Things really got interesting when I took my gold card out of my wallet and told the waitress the evening was on me...but only for the ladies. You never hear so much bitching in your life as when I told the three ass holes to hit the road. 

I'm ashamed to say I ever called that group of marriage wrecking bitches friends. They kept ridiculing you for being a good-two-shoes husband and saying shit like, no guy is that nice unless he is hiding something. They were taunting you must be guilty for something. Amy looked numb as they kept trying to cast doubt on your marriage. It reminded me of a picture from Sunday school where the serpent was telling lies to Eve, only Amy had a half dozen snakes from hell pitching their lies. 

Through it all that bastard Dick, our own private Beelzebub, and his minions kept smirking at us. 

When the food arrived we pretty much ate in silence. We were about finished eating when the music started. I stood up and announced both the evening and Birth Day Club had come to an end. 

A couple of the girls had enough class to get their own checks but I ended up paying for five dinners that night. Then I told Amy I would escort her to her car to keep her safe. 

Carol was none too happy with me because I think I destroyed birthday club."

I interrupted, "You didn't destroy anything Jeannie...but you may have saved a marriage."

"So you recognized my voice, huh."

"I don't know how to say thank you enough for calling me...I just pray to God that it's not too late." 

"John, I'm 100% sure they didn't do anything last night or the month before but I hate to say you still have a big problem. There won't be a Birth Day Club next month, maybe never again. I had to make a quick stop in the ladies room and I overheard Amy and Dick making plans to meet there next month so they could have some time alone to talk. Talk my size ten ass." 

"Shit...Well that at least gives me a month to bring my wife back to her senses."

"John, I went to your wedding and I want to make sure you can stop this interloper before it's too late."

"Thanks Jeannie, you're a true friend."

After she hung up I raging mad. I went upstairs and went through Amy's closet and dresser looking for what, I don't know. Something that would prove Jeannie was misreading the situation I guess. I damn near tore the door off the hinges when I found an unopened box of condoms hidden in one of her knockoff designer purses. My first instinct was to leave an empty box. Then I got a better idea. I carefully opened the box and removed the six instruments of infidelity. I replaced them with a selection of photographs including our wedding picture, our son being born, and a dozen of use together through the years. I thought if they tried an earlier rendezvous guilt or embarrassment might save the day.

The next day I did some checking; every one I spoke with agreed, the food is lousy, the drinks overpriced, and the music rank amateur. And to a one both men and women agreed, the only reason unescorted females go to a dump like Rick's Hi-way Lounge was to get picked up. It seems there was an overabundance of lounge lizards waiting for a woman of low morals to wander in...or a wife pushing forty who has never had sex with anyone but her husband. 

For the next four weeks I watched Amy like a hawk as she dressed and undressed for work. Every day it was the same conservative underwear; she even wore a pair of white cotton panties under her pantyhose. 

I was able to check her cell phone call record and e-mail accounts at least once a week but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. I also confirmed the box of condoms was still nestled in the bottom of her purse.

On the surface all appeared well. We held hands and kissed like teenagers. I went out of my way to engage Amy in retrospective conversations, reminding her how wonderful it is being married to my best friend, and how I would never do anything to jeopardize that. Soon I would learn if she lied like a poker player when she said she felt the same way.

On the days right before alleged BD Club I was outright miserable but, if my wife noticed, she never asked why. My rage reached a crescendo Friday night when Amy got dressed in the bathroom with the door locked, something she had never done before. She came out wearing a tailored skirt suit I had never seen before; the skirt was quite a bit shorter than anything she owned and she was wearing enough make-up for two cheerleaders. "This? I've had it forever," was her flip response when I asked about her outfit. 

Amy also said she might be a little late so I shouldn't wait up. "Don't worry; I'll make it up to you tomorrow." I asked why and she gave a lame story about maybe having to drive a couple of the girls home. My eyes locked on her purse...it took every fiber of my soul not to confront her. But I learned patience hunting deer with my father...better to wait and be sure of the kill than risk spooking it.

The moment her car was out of the driveway I placed a call on a disposable phone. This 007 stuff was all new to me but I had been warned not to leave an electronic trail. "She just left." The die was cast. Nothing more needed to be said. 

Earlier in the week I had reached out to an old friend of mine, one of those people you don't want to be seen with in the daytime but are thrilled to know when you need something illegal done. He would prefer his name not be mentioned. And so it shan't. Capeesh. 

I met my old friend in a bowling alley parking lot and gave him a couple pictures of my wife and explained the situation. I also gave him an envelope thick with the money I had been salting away for three years to surprise my wife with a cruise for our twenty-fifth anniversary.

If everything went as planned she would be getting very surprised.

My old friend said it would be best if I had an air tight alibi just in case the police tried to tie me in to what would be taking place. I selected a local Greek restaurant—breakfast 24 hours a day—which I knew would be crowded on a Friday night. I took a seat at the counter and read a hard cover novel while I drank enough coffee to harm my kidneys. About two hours, and half a dozen cups of coffee later, the phone rang. All he said was, "It has been done

I signaled for the check and "discovered" I had forgotten my wallet. Nick and Gus, the owners, were not very happy to hear that and said they were calling the police. "Wait," I said, "I have some money in my car." One of the owners, I never could tell them apart, followed me so I wouldn't dine and dash. I retrieved a plastic bag loaded with change. We went inside and I counted out $14.59. Suddenly I went from being a sonofabeetch to please come again. I motioned the waitress over and handed her the bag. It had at least $25 in quarters, dimes, and nickels in it. 

"I'm sorry your tip is in silver." 

"Honey, she said, "That's about the biggest tip I got all week." She would remember me should the need arise.

As instructed, I smashed the phone and threw the pieces out the window as I drove home. 

I was sitting in the recliner in our living room pretending to read a book when Amy walked in about a quarter past nine. "You're home early." The truth was I had only beaten her home by about five minutes.

She looked rattled and I could see she had been crying. Her voice quivered when she spoke, "The police raided the bar. They caught some guy selling drugs in the bathroom and shut the place down."

"No one you know I hope." was my curt response.


Birth Day Club Ch. 02



My introduction to the next storyteller came via e-mail. The memo line said "A friend sent me your Birthday Club story and said you could help me warn other husbands of my experience." 

I called the number he provided and was rewarded with the tale of Jenny and Sally, two sisters who had the world had by its tail and threw it all away. As always, I am a mere scribe, presenting a story which was told to me by he who lived it. I make no judgment.

Is it true? I don't know. The guy who wouldn't tell me his real name swears it is. I'll leave it up to you to decide.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. Ad hominem attacks will, of course, be deleted.

If you enjoy this missive I encourage you to read my earlier works. Thank you.

Without further ado I give you a tale of betrayal, vengeance, and consequences. 

The following took place the summer of 1999. 

Our life together was blissful. I was the senior claims adjuster at the local insurance agency. My wife Sally was Vice President of Operations at the only bank in town. First National was an old school bank with a lobby that John Dillinger would feel right at home robbing. They still enforced a dress code; all male employees had to wear suits with white shirts while women were required to wear either a dress or a skirt suit with a matching blazer. Nylons, or hose as the handbook called them, were required. Sally didn't like how pantyhose felt and, much to my delight, always wore stockings and a garter belt. 

On casual Fridays men were allowed to wear sport coats with a tie, while the ladies could wear a business appropriate skirt or a proper pair of slacks with a complimentary sweater or jacket. They didn't budge an inch on shoes; a two inch heel was required. 

It was fantastic being married to my best friend. We did most everything together and had hit the point in our lives where we were trying to have a baby....ovulation charts, fertility cycles, and everything. 

We spent our evenings together, taking turns making dinner and cleaning up afterwards. Then we would curl up on the couch and talk about our day. We complimented each other and were damn near inseparable. 

Then one night, out of the blue, Sally said her sister, Jenny, was turning thirty and wanted to go out a bar to celebrate. 

"Great, that sounds like fun," I said. 

Sally hemmed and hawed before saying, "Uh, honey, husbands aren't invited."

"That doesn't sound very right," I responded. "What does Bill have to say?" Bill is Jenny's husband and a more jealous man never walked the face of the earth. 

"She hasn't told him yet."

I foolishly said "Well if Bill says OK, it's OK with me too."

I didn't know Jenny would blackmail him with the promise of spending Thanksgiving at his parent's house. You see, Jenny hated visiting his parents because they were always all over her with, "When are we going to become grandparents...We want a grandson to carry on the family name." You know the drill. 

It got even worse when they found out we were trying for a baby.

Not much else was said about it until Friday morning. 

"I'll be meeting the girls straight from work so I shouldn't be too late." My wife was dressed like she always did for a casual Friday, a tailored pair of black pants, a simple white cotton blouse, and a black silk jacket. .

"Whoa. First, who's going? Second, where ya going?"

"A few of Jenny's friends from work...our cousins Carrie and Janet...and a couple friends from high school. There's a restaurant on Route 83 that has live music on Friday nights."

"What's the name of this place?"

"I don't know but I'll call you as soon as I get it."

Just as Sally was getting ready to leave I stopped her and planted my best kiss on her, completely massacring her lipstick. "Tonight a group of fine looking women are going to attract every scumbag mother-fucker within twenty miles. If anyone bothers you, call and I'll be there."

"Oh honey, don't be silly. No one will look twice at a pack of married women bad mouthing their husbands."

That evening I ate dinner alone for the first time since we were married. Afterwards I kicked around trying to find something to occupy my time until balance was restored. I was not a happy husband.

I looked at my watch...9:50...and made up my mind. In ten more minutes I would be on my way to the Rusty Nail to embarrass the hell out of my wife. 

Five minutes later I heard the garage door going up. I walked into the garage and watched my beautiful wife park her car. I held the door open for her. 

"How's the best husband in the whole world?" she wrapped her arms around me and sucked my tongue into her mouth.

Less than a minute later we were in our bedroom clawing at each other's clothes. We spent the rest of the night making love like newlyweds.

The next morning I complimented my wife for how enthusiastic and aggressive she had been in bed. Then I asked what her inspiration had been. She claimed she wanted to show how much she loved her man for letting her have an evening out with the girls...plus yesterday was one of her fertile days.

While I recuperated Sally gave me a run down of the previous night's conversations. I did my damnedest to be interested but really didn't care how hard some woman was working to potty train her twin sons. Five minutes later all thought of soiled diapers were replaced by a second helping of amore. 

I spoke with Bill that afternoon. He said Jenny was also a sexual dynamo and "did things" she never did before.

In retrospect, that should have had the warning bells ringing and lights flashing. Instead we were two sated puppies.

The next month.

Sally woke me by wrapping her lips around my morning wood. It was the last Thursday of the month and she was buttering me up to go out with the girls the following night. Now I've gotten my share of hummers but this was some of the most inspired cock sucking I had ever been recipient to. 

Every time I was ready to blow Sally backed off until I finally couldn't hold back and erupted in her mouth. She swallowed every drop. 

I knew I was being played when Sally sat down at our breakfast table wearing nothing but a smile. 

In between sips of coffee she purred, "Honey, it's AnnMarie's birthday on Saturday and the girls are getting together tomorrow night for a birthday drink. They invited me come. You wouldn't mind if I went along, would you? Bill said Jenny could go. I promise I'll come home nice and horny like I did last month." 

She spread her legs and I was toast. 

Friday morning Sally headed out for work wearing a knee length suede skirt, an embroidered blouse, and a matching leather blazer; all were black. Sheer black nylons and a pair of knee high black leather boots completed her ensemble. She looked hot, smoking hot. I should have known something bad was in the wind because Sally never wore a skirt on casual Fridays. Never. 

I had a hell of a time concentrating on work thinking about how much fun she was going to be to undress. 

Sally pulled into the garage as the clock was chiming ten. I was like a kid waiting for a candy store to open. My eyes almost popped out when I saw her blouse was unbuttoned enough to show she was wearing my favorite demi bra. Her erect nipples peeked proudly above the lace. 

When I held her car door open I was rewarded with a beautiful up skirt view of the matching panties.

I led her into our bedroom and finished unbuttoning her blouse; this was soon followed by her skirt. Sally kept on the lingerie and boots, while we had wild passionate sex until the wee hours of the morning. 

The next day Sally showed her appreciation by waking me with a smile; she still had her nylons and garter belt on. 

Later in the day I asked about her evening and she regaled me with the story of eight women trying to divide the bill so each paid exactly their correct amount. I pictured each hammering away on a calculator while asking "how many French fries did you eat?"

Month three

This was a replay of the previous month...someone I didn't know was getting older and required liquor with a sidecar of estrogen to make the transition.

Sally said she was dressing especially nice to reward me. Damn she looked good...and the undressing sex was even more incredible. 

Month four

This time it was Tina's birthday."Who's Tina?" I asked. 

"You know Tina...the commercial teller. Tina. Short, dark hair; small boobs. Tina. You thought she was a boy when you met her at the bank's Christmas party."

I had no idea who she was but was looking forward to a replay of the previous month and agreed. Bill and I had talked several times during the month and he said Jenny had been a sexual dynamo so he had no problem with her having a hens night once a month. After tasting a rainbow of flavors he didn't want to go back to vanilla.

I admitted the transformation in Sally to my wanton sex toy made me agree to letting them continue...I even joked we should encourage them to go out more often. Damn, what a fool I was.

Ten minutes late she walked in wearing a pair of sheer white stockings, a black nylon skirt that started about four inches north of her knees, and a diaphanous white blouse. Her breasts, barely hidden by the wisp of a white lace bra, were on display through the filmy material. 

"I hope you're planning on wearing something bulky over that. "

"I will if I still want to have a job," she joked as she put her empty coffee cup in the dishwasher then walked out of the kitchen. She returned wearing a white button down sweater that fit her very nicely. She gave me a wicked grin and said she would reward me tonight for being such a good husband. My cock told my mouth to smile.

"I hope you don't mind but I might be home a little late." Sally sat in my lap and gave me a kiss. "Tina's sister works in the city and can't get there until eight. I promise to make it up to you."

I wasn't happy but don't do my best thinking when my wife's tongue is in my mouth. 

I began pacing the floor at 11. My cell phone rang a few minutes before midnight, "Are you still up?" Sally purred.

"Up and eager!"

"Then wait for me in the living room. I'm gonna rock your world."

I turned down the lights, opened the curtains, and watched for her car.

The moment she walked in my hands were all over her. Sally wasn't wearing her sweater and her nipples were straining at the see-through blouse. The chopper bra made them look obscene."Slow down big boy." 

It was obvious from the way she slurred her words, my wife was drunk. 

She pushed me down into my recliner and said "Don't move." Sally danced her way over to the picture window and teased, "I hope the neighbors aren't watching" as she slowly pulled her skirt up to reveal a sheer, white thong. For the next five minutes I watched my beautiful wife tease me as she slowly stripped off her blouse and skirt. 

Sally danced over to my chair then crawled onto my lap; she smelled like sex and cigarette smoke. She sucked my tongue into her mouth; it tasted like tequila. 

I ran my hands up her legs and found her thong soaking wet.. I could see through the transparent material that her pride was cleanly shaven. I hoped she hadn't gone to the bar so exposed.

Sally pushed my arms away and said, "No touching the dancers," then leaned forward to tease me with her erect nipples. A minute later she pulled my shorts down to my ankles then tore my t-shirt open. My cock was rock solid.

Sally smiled before she turned around and stuck her damn near naked ass in my face. I ran my tongue along the thin string that was hiding between her cheeks. Her breathing grew labored as my tongue drove her closer to an organism. I slid the wisp of lace down her legs and resumed my tongue's attack on her tight ass. 

She broke free and returned to my lap, grinding her pussy against my very ready cock. A moment later she was impaled on my erection. I had never felt her so hot or so wet. Neither of us lasted for more than a few seconds before we started to climax. 

After her orgasm subsided Sally got a glassy look on her face and announced, "I'm gonna throw up."

We barely made it to the bathroom before she began to retch. I spent the next ten minutes kneeling next to her as she purged her system. The puke even stunk like tequila. What I didn't see was any food splashing into the toilet...nothing but liquid. 

Sally's brain was so liquored up she kept fading out. "We toasted Tina with tequila shots."

"How many shots did you have?"

After a rambling story that made no sense she finally admitted "three I think...maybe five..." 

"You drank five shots of tequila."

"I think so but I can't remem..." her voice trailed off. "Make the room stop spinning." The conversation got cut short when Sally began to throw up again..

"I can't believe you drove home this drunk. Why didn't you call me for a ride?"

"Because you would get mad at me."

"Not half as mad as I am now. You screwed up big time." 

She moaned, "Stop yelling at me!"

I placed my hands on her shoulders and spoke to her like she was a disobedient child. " Tonight will be the last time you go drinking with the girls."

Sally started to pout, "But I didn't do anything."

"Even if you didn't do anything else, you drove home drunk!"

When I was certain there was nothing left in her stomach I cleaned her up and carried her upstairs.

Sally slept almost to noon the next day and woke with a raging headache. She looked like shit.

I made a pot of extra strong coffee and kept refilling her cup. When she looked like she was going to live I looked her square in the eye and said "I cannot begin to tell you how furious I am with you. I love you more than life itself. You drove home shit faced drunk. Thank God I didn't have to bail you out from jail or identify your dead body."

She swore it was a onetime thing that would never happen again. 

"Damn right it won't happen again." 

Month five

Four weeks later we had our biggest fight ever when Sally said she was going out with Birthday Club on Friday. Mind you, she didn't ask like she had in the past, she announced it Monday over breakfast. 

"Like hell you are," I thundered back "You seem to forget last month's debacle. The argument raged for a couple of days 

She kept whining, but it's Janet's birthday.

She wore me down and I finally agreed provided she promised to limit herself to two mixed drinks and no shots. And, no, I didn't get my regular day before birthday club blow job. 

Sally knew I had an early appointment and was taking her time dressing; she still had on her robe when I wandered in and dropped the F bomb." Since Janet is family Bill and I might drop in to have a drink with the birthday girl." 

She glared at me. "You wouldn't dare. Everyone would think you didn't trust us."

We did dare. Bill and I showed up at the Rusty Nail at a few minutes after seven. We wanted to give them an opportunity to have dinner before we crashed their party. Imagine our surprise when they weren't there. 

Bill gave the bartender a look that made shivers run up my spine. "Where the fuck are our wives?" he demanded.

"I don't even know who your wives are. But if you don't see 'em, they ain't here."

When I asked if a group of seven or eight nicely dressed women had been by earlier he answered, "Look around at the patrons of this fine establishment." His voice reeked of sarcasm. "I think I would remember them."

I thought Bill was going to tear the place down. I finally persuaded him to go outside where it was quieter so we could dial our wives' cell phones. Both immediately went to voice mail. 

Next I dialed Sally's cousin Carrie and got her answering machine. I left a message that it was an emergency and needed to talk to her. Her cousin Janet, the alleged birthday girl, however answered. "I'm at home watching TV. Besides, I haven't seen them since Jenny's birthday. Carrie and I didn't think it was appropriate for married women to go drinking and dancing with strange men so we only went the one time." I tried to control my rage as I asked her to call me if she could think of where they might have gone. 

I told Bill what their cousin has said. Now he was really pissed. "How could those two idiots not have told us what was going on." 

"It's that blood is thicker than water bullshit...they threw us under the damn bus rather than snitch on family."

Bill was working his way through all of his contacts without success. Every couple of minutes he redialed his wife and left ominous messages. 

We agreed to split up and drive by all the area bars to see if we could spot their cars. There aren't that many places to get drunk out where we were and we quickly exhausted them all. So we started over and went inside each joint to look for our wives. Nothing. I suggested we expanded the search perimeter to towns within twenty miles and had my GPS recalculating mighty fast as I crisscrossed the township. I ran out of places to check and went back to the Rusty Nail to wait for Bill.

As I sat alone I began to think how when I left home all I had to worry about was keeping my wife from driving home a little tipsy...now my mind was racing a thousand miles an hour with dark thoughts that filled me with rage. 

Finally, at a few ticks past eleven thirty, my phone rang.

"I'm sorry honey. I forgot my phone in the car and see I missed several calls from you. Is everything alright?

"Did you listen to any of my messages?" I tried to mask my fury. 

"No, I called you the second I got in my car." 

I bit my lip. "Did you have a good time?" 

"I'll tell you all about it when I ravage your hard body. I'll be home in about twenty minutes."

"I've got a few minutes...let's start now. So who all was with you tonight?" I had rehearsed that question as a trap.

"Just the usuals. Of course the birthday girl was there; Carrie...a couple of girls Janet works with, and three or four of Jenny's friends."

"Where'd ya go?" The trap is sprung..

"I told you...the Rusty Nail."

"That's funny because I'm sitting in their parking lot right now and I don't see you anywhere." The phone went dead silent. Finally a whimper escaped her lips.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Oh God.. I...I...I," she stammered. 

"Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm pulling out of the parking lot."

"Stop playing games. You know what I mean. Now park your damn car and answer me. Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm at the Crescent Motel." The one place I didn't check.

"Don't move one inch. I will be there in ten minutes. Now, where's your sister?"

"She's still inside."

"In the lounge or hotel?"

She stopped crying long enough to choke out, "She's got a room."

"If you tell her I'm coming you will regret it."

"What are you going to do?" 

"None of your fucking business whore."

She was hysterical when I hung up on her to call Bill. I've never heard a man scream so loud.

I got there in eight minutes. My tires were spraying gravel as I pulled off the highway and parked next to Sally's car. She jumped out and started babbling, "Honest I didn't do anything. He tried to get me to but I didn't do anything. I swear I've never cheated on you."

"Is he still here?"

"I haven't seen him leave."

I opened my trunk and took out a couple of baseball bats. Being a little league coach was finally going to pay off.

Bill was getting out of his pickup before it stopped moving. "What room is my cunt wife in?"

"Second floor down on the end." 

He grabbed one of the bats then bounded up the staircase two steps at a time. 

A moment later silence was replaced by the thud of a boot and a cheap wood door exploding. I could hear Jenny pleading, "Don't kill him!"

I grabbed my idiot wife by the scruff of her neck and said, "Now let's go pay a visit to your boyfriend. Which one is he?" She was trembling as she pointed out a dark haired man in a blue denim shirt. 




Birth Day Club Ch. 02



Our timing was perfect and we caught him as he was walking outside to see what the commotion was. Or I should say forty inches of rock hard maple caught him...right across his rib cage that is. He crumpled to the ground spitting blood. 

"Who's next?" I asked. None of his drinking buddies seemed too eager to get involved When I saw he was wearing a wedding ring I went nuts and proceeded to wail on his balls with the bat until I was quite certain he would never bother a married woman again. I saved my last couple of swings for his handsome face...his nose popped like a pumpkin the day after Halloween and he was spitting teeth. His eyes didn't look too straight either. He weren't a pretty boy no more. 

I laughed like an insane person and taunted, "If I ever see you again, I will kill you."

Sally was hysterical begging me to stop.

"Shut the fuck up whore or you're next."

You know you're in a shit hole dive when no one calls the police to report a man being beaten to death. The gun shots, however, did get attention. They were followed by a blood curdling scream then silence. Bill staggered out with blood spurting out of his shoulder and thigh. Jenny followed a few seconds later, butt naked and drenched in blood. She lunged for her husband but he pushed her away, then collapsed on the concrete balcony. She never stopped babbling "I can explain. It's not like it looks." In retrospect I wish Bill had let her explain how her lover shooting him wasn't like it looked. But I never got the chance because Bill started to scream at her to get her whoring ass out of his way or he would kill her next.

In the confusion someone helped the bastard I had been playing piñata with slither back into whatever swamp he came from. That left one dead fucker and two hysterical whore wives. 

I yelled out "Someone call 9-1-1!" then ran up the stairs to help Bill hobble down. I wrapped my arms around him, dragged him into the lounge, then helped him into a booth to wait for the ambulance. He was pounding his fists on the table and kept repeating, "that fucking bitch..." 

The bartender brought over some towels and I tried my best to stop the bleeding. The old guy even brought me a cold beer saying, "I think you need this."

The cops arrived about a minute after the paramedics. They told me to get out of the way and laid Bill out on a gurney. 

I had so much blood on me that an EMT sat me down in his ambulance to check for wounds. 

When he heard I wasn't bleeding one of the cops climbed in and asked what happened. Since almost all of the bar's former patrons fled when they heard sirens I gave my version of reality...which was short on the facts while laying all the blame solely on the bastard with a gun who was fucking Jenny. 

The other cop went inside to question the bartender. He was a smart man who said he was too busy serving customers to mind anybody else's business. The two old guys sitting in the corner were so stiff they honestly had no idea anything happened.

Since my victim couldn't be located, and nobody saw anything, John Law had no reason to arrest me. So they told me to drive carefully 'cuz it looked like I'd been drinking. 

I went into the lobby and asked the hotel manager if it was OK to leave a couple of cars for the night.

He said, "No problem, she's a guest. Her boyfriend paid for a room for the night." He pointed to my wife.

I clenched my fists as Sally started to rant, "Honest, I didn't go up to the room."

"Shut the fuck up."

I watched as they loaded Bill into an ambulance. "I'll follow you to the hospital."

Jenny also continued to swear on her life she hadn't done anything. They finally sedated her to shut her up. She is one stupid woman. Bill made such a ruckus they loaded her into the second ambulance. 

Sally climbed into my car before I could tell her she was on her own. 

I waited until we had driven a couple of miles before I spoke, "The first time you went to birthday club I asked about your evening. You spent ten minutes telling me about some kid who shits himself but never mentioned you had been drinking and dancing with men you picked up in the bar. Every month I asked you the same question and every month you lied to me. I talked to your cousin tonight and know the truth." All of the color drained out of Sally's face; tears and mascara ran down her cheeks. .

"Now I want you to think very carefully before your answer this question. Did you think what you did was alright because you came home acting like a randy whore? Was it a big fucking joke humiliating me? Did your boyfriend think it was funny?"

Sally didn't say a word; all she was able to make was a sound not unlike an asthmatic fighting for air.

"Well whore, are you going to answer? I didn't think you would."

We drove in silence the rest of the way. Sally was doubled over with her face buried in her hands. As I was pulling into a parking space she finally spoke, "I know it looks bad but I swear by all that is holy I never had sex with him."

I looked her square in the eyes and said, "It doesn't matter if you fucked him or not, you cheated on our marriage. You disrespected me and that gold band on your finger. Your secret get togethers were every bit as destructive as if you did." 

I started to get out of the car but stopped to say one last thing. "You betrayed me with a thousand lies. Our marriage ended the first time you lied about dancing with another man...it just took me six months to catch you. Now all that's left is the paperwork." 

I left Sally in the car screaming how sorry she was and begging me to forgive her. 

An ER nurse escorted me to the waiting room and promised to let us know as soon as she knew anything. I sat by myself in a corner. A few minutes later Sally showed up and claimed a seat across the room. She never looked in my direction.

Their mother showed up about a half hour later and joined the vigil. She got right in Sally's face, "You're her big sister.. How could you let this happen to her?" Shit like that.

This went on for about five minutes before Mrs. Morris threw her hands up in frustration. 

At about two in the morning a doctor in blood stained scrubs came out and announced Bill was out of surgery. All of the bullets had missed vital organs and he was expected to make a full recovery.

"What about my daughter? Is my daughter okay?" Mrs. Morris asked.

"I don't know. She's still in surgery."

Mrs. Morris began to moan, "Why is this happening to us?"

I stood up and bellowed, "I'll tell you why. It's because your daughters are whores. They were fucking men they picked up in a hotel bar...they're whores."

She looked at Sally and asked in a weak voice, "Is this true?"

Sally wiped her face with her sleeve but didn't say a word.

About a half hour later a doctor came out and announced, "Your daughter is out of surgery. She's lost a lot of blood but and we were able to stabilize her. Unfortunately we weren't able to save the baby.

Mr. Morris screamed, "Oh my God! She was pregnant," then fainted dead away. 

I saw no reason to stick around and got up to leave.. 

Sally really pushed her luck, "Could I please have a ride home?"

I looked at her like she had two heads. "You don't want to be alone with me." I turned and walked away.

Epilogue

Sally was fired by the bank first thing Monday morning. They would have done it sooner only she wasn't answering her cell phone. Seems they didn't appreciate having a picture of one of their senior officers on page one of the big city newspaper under a headline that read LOVE TRIANGLES END WITH DEATH

Bill's life settled into a routine the day after the Coroner's Inquest Panel ruled he acted in self defense. Seems the asshole Jenny was fucking had outstanding warrants for attempted murder, assault, and drug running amongst other illegal things. The panel of twelve citizens took less than five minutes to decide a baseball bat in a motivated man's hands is a fair fight against a two time loser with a gun.

Every morning Bill would knock on the door to the spare bedroom before he entered. He would open the curtains then empty Jenny's colostomy bag. Every morning she told him how sorry she was then beg him to say something...anything. 

Bill had been there when she woke up in recovery. He looked at her and said, " I married you for better or worse. I will keep my pledge and won't divorce you. But I also will never talk to you again." He walked out of the room ignoring her pleas not to leave. He hadn't uttered a single word to her since he brought her home from the hospital.

Every morning Bill helped her dress for the day then lifted her into her wheelchair. In the kitchen she would find coffee brewing but after that she was on her own until he came home that evening. The house didn't have a wheelchair ramp so she was a prisoner in her house. It had been three weeks and Jenny was having a hard time accepting she would never walk again. One of her fucker's bullets had clipped her spine, paralyzing her from the waist down, when he used her as a shield.  

Sally moved into her mother's house; the sheriff's deputy served the divorce papers on her two days later. The next time I would see her would be at my attorney's office. Since we didn't own a house and had no kids our no-fault divorce got fast tracked. Two signatures and our marriage would be over.

Sally came by the apartment the day before our appointment while I was at work and picked up her clothes. When I got home that evening I sat on the bed in front of the empty closet and cried. Then I noticed her laptop on the dresser; a note was taped to it. My password is SorryWife. 

Okay, she had my curiosity. I opened the computer. The first thing that caught my eye was a word document titled 'My Confession.' 

It began, "Mike, I realize it's too late and I accept all of the responsibility for the divorce but every word is God's honest truth. I skipped the rest of her apology to get to her litany of sins.

It laid out month by month everything she had done during the five birthday clubs. She also itemized every lie she could recall telling me...damn that was a long list. To her credit she didn't attempt to explain or rationalize anything she did but it still hurt like hell. I steeled my nerve and read on.

The next morning I showed up at the attorney's office about ten minutes late...I wanted to be the last one there...make 'em wait. 

Sally's eyes were red and puffed up. She carried herself like a broken person. "Hi Mikey."

I nodded an acknowledgement but didn't respond.

One of the lawyers said, "Everyone is here so let's begin. "Do either of you have any questions before you sign?" 

We both shook our heads in the negative. 

After we both signed the divorce decrees and the notary affixed her seal to each I said I did have a question. "Do you have to file these right away or could you wait a week or so?"

Sally looked confused. 

My lawyer responded, "It would be a little irregular but there's no reason we couldn't wait."

"Another question. How would someone go about filing a document like this?"

"They would walk across the street to the courthouse and see the clerk. The fee has already been paid."

I looked at Sally and said, "If my wife doesn't mind, I would like to take them with and hold off for a few days."

Sally bounded out of her chair...her eyes were lit up as she rushed to me. 

I held up my hand. "Do you swear every word in your confession is the truth?"

"I swear on our marriage."

"I'm going to do a lot of digging and if I find you weren't 100% honest I'll be the first guy waiting in line when the clerk's office opens."

"l have a lot of questions...and it may be years before I can trust you like I did before. But I'm willing to try."

Sally's war hoop echoed through the building as she threw herself into my arms. 

"What changed your mind?"

"My brain was numb after reading your confession. I couldn't sleep so I went for a drive. I stopped behind a rusting hulk of a car at a red light. Slapped in the middle of his bumper was... Don't marry someone you can live with, marry someone you can't live without. I started to cry so hard I had to pull over because that's you.

That was fifteen years ago. We started seeing a marriage counselor the following Monday. The first two or three years were the hardest and I feared Sally was starting to resent me for not trusting her. I would question her about all aspects of her day, who she talked to, where she went for lunch. She did everything she could to be transparent...I had full access to her computer and voice mail. But she never once complained...that made me respect her.

Everything changed when Michael Junior entered the world. He brought us closer than we had ever been. Three years later our second son was born. We named him Robert after Sally's late father. 

And framed on our bedroom wall, next to our wedding portrait, is the signed but never filed Petition for Disillusionment of Marriage. Those who forget the past are destined to repeat it.



Birth Day Club



She didn't answer...she also didn't look me in the eye. She stood in the foyer looking at the floor. "Are you okay?" I asked.

Amy managed a weak smile before she walked over to where I was sitting and straddled me on the chair; she sucked my tongue into her mouth. She had no lipstick on and her mascara had run. I could feel her shaking through her jacket. Her breath smelled of alcohol and her clothes reeked of cigarette smoke. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't see straight." She announced. I wondered if it would be our last.

My wife, who is normally very shy, didn't even pause to close the living room curtains before she started to tease me by slowly unbuttoning my shirt. I lifted her up, stood her in front of me and said, "Ladies first," as I pulled her jacket off and threw it on the floor. 

I was stunned by how sheer her silk blouse was...every freckle on her chest was visible. The tiny lace bra lifted her breasts up and put her bright red nipples on display. I traced my fingers over her breasts, my nails leaving soft pink stripes on her flawless skin. 

I turned her so she was facing the picture window. Anyone walking by would get quite a show while I examined her neck and back for anything unusual. 

I reached around and cupped her magnificent breasts with both hands. Amy began to moan for me to go faster as I kneaded her rock hard nipples. I wasn't very gentle and the harder I pulled on her nipples the more Amy ground her ass into my erection. 

I whispered into her ear, "We've got all night," before I unzipped her skirt; it fell down around her ankles. Amy had on a garter belt and thong that matched the bra. "Don't take anything off until I say you can. That goes for the shoes too." I ordered as I resumed pulling on her fiery red nipples. She pleaded with me to stop teasing and fuck her. 

Even after two decades I love watching my wife strip but I had an ulterior motive for undressing her. I ran my hands down her tight body until they reached her lace panties. I hooked my index fingers in the elastic and slid them off her legs. I carefully examined them; they were soaked but there were no pecker tracks in the gusset. I held them to my nose and inhaled. All I could smell was the erotic musk of my wife's cunt. Satisfied I would not be tasting another man's cum, I knelt before her and began to lick her pussy. Amy was so turned on that she came in less than a minute. I took her blouse off before I laid her on the carpet. Then I dropped my pants and slammed my cock into her fiery hot hole. I didn't last much longer than she did.

Amy asked me to hold her so I wrapped my arms around her, playing with her hot ass as my cock got hard again, courtesy of the Viagra pill I borrowed from a friend. I slid my cock in and began to enjoy sloppy seconds for the first time in many years. While I pumped with my cock I began to pump her for information. Amy looked puzzled as this wasn't exactly our usual conversation during sex.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No! No! Why would you say something crazy like that? What are you talking about?" she rambled on.

"You must think I'm pretty fucking stupid if you expect me to believe you dressed like this to go to dinner with a bunch of middle aged women."

. 

"No! No, you've got it all wrong." Amy was breathing hard as she answered. "Like I told you, we went to the place Debbie found, Ricks something. I told you about it. We all agreed to dress up because they have live music on the first Friday of each month. Remember, I told you about it."

I pulled my cock out then thrust it in hard. "What I remember is you told me Birth Day Club was for woman only. Husbands and boyfriends were not welcome. So I said, 'Ricks sounds like fun. We should go there next month, just you and me.'"

"Oh, yeah," was her soft reply.

"Do they have dancing?" I slammed my cock into her again.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I guess you forgot to mention that."

Amy did not look comfortable, from my questions, not my cock.

"Did anyone dance?" I pulled my cock out while I waited for her answer.

"There were a few people dancing."

I pushed my cock back in and resumed my rhythm. "You know what I mean. Did anyone from the Birth Day Club dance?"

A long pause. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Did you dance?" I timed my thrusts to my questions.

"We really weren't there that long" she was talking so fast I could barely understand her. "I told you the police shut the place down and made everyone leave. We barely finished eating so we weren't really there that long.

I stopped with my cock barely touching her pussy lips. "Answer the question. Who did you dance with?"

After a very long pause she said, "There was a guy who wouldn't leave us alone unless one of us danced with him."

"This is your last chance. Answer the question." I demanded.

Amy got a queer look on her face...her eyes got big and her lip began to quiver. I didn't say a word. I just stared at her. Finally she blinked. "I guess I did... His name is Dick...I danced with him to get him to leave us alone." I pushed my cock back in.

"And what else aren't you telling me." I again pulled my cock almost all the way out without saying another word

Amy looked like she wanted to run and hide but I was on top of her and I had no intention of letting her go until I wanted her to. 

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have done it." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Done what?" I asked as I fucked her again. 

Amy began to sob..."I'm sorry...I'm sorry."

"If all you did was dance with another man what are sorry for? Now tell the truth. What else did you do?"

Amy was crying so hard she couldn't choke out a response. 

"Okay bar bait, let's start at the beginning. How did you earn that nickname?" I pulled my cock out of her and stood up.

Amy lost it when I called her on her nickname. She began wailing, "I can't believe this is happening to me! I swear it's all a misunderstanding...don't believe what they said...I didn't know he was a drug dealer...it was just innocent dancing...I mean he kissed me but we didn't do anything else...I love you...You're the only man that I love..." The words blurred together. 

"You said he kissed you. Did you kiss him back?"

Her voice was so soft I could barely hear it, "Yes."

"Then you broke our marriage vows. Twenty one years down the drain."

"Honest...that's all we ever did." Amy got on her knees and wrapped her arms around my waist. My erect cock was right in her face.

I looked down at her. "Liar! What about him feeling you up in the parking lot? Did he get his fingers in your cunt?" My wife hated when I used that word. "And I don't even want to guess what you did with him tonight before the police dragged him away. You're pretty damn lucky you didn't get arrested too."

Amy responded with a torrent of tears. 

I picked up her sheer blouse and held it up. "I can't begin to tell you how many times I asked you to dress like this for me and you always said only whores wear things like this. So I guess that makes you a whore. Well whore, what do you have to say for yourself?" 

Amy looked terrified. "I admit I dressed like this because I was going to have an affair tonight...but honest to God I didn't."

"So you wouldn't wear this for the man you claim to love but you would for a drug dealer. We're finished. This is going to kill your mother." 

"Oh God! She shrieked. "This is the worst night of my life!" 

Then it got worst. I got up, picked her purse off the floor, and dumped its contents in front of her. The bright red box of rubbers exposed her lies. Amy turned white as a sheet and became hysterical. 

I pointed to the box of condoms. "Explain this." I demanded.

"Look. It's never been opened."

"That just proves you were stupid enough to fuck that drug dealing bastard bare back."

"I swear...honest. I never fucked him. I never had sex with anyone but you. Never in my whole life."

"Then why do you have a box of condoms in your purse?" 

Amy stammered...iiiitttt...iiitttt...

"Stop your lying. The only reason you would have condoms is to commit adultery." 

She curled up on the floor in a fetal position and started to hyperventilate. The hardest thing I ever did in my life was to not wrap my arms around her. I had tears in my eyes as I sat naked on our sofa with my face buried in my hands. It took almost five minutes before she was able to talk. 

"I can't expect you to believe me but I never fucked him...or anyone but you. Ever. And I thank God for keeping me from going through with it."

She crawled over and sat next to me. The unopened box sat on the coffee table. 

"Before I throw you out I have only one question. Why did you cheat on us?"

Amy looked broken, almost deathlike. Her voice quivered as she spoke between deep breaths. "It's all so stupid now. I love you...I love our life...I love our family. It just seemed so...I guess it felt exciting to have a younger man wanting me. I...I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all you. You are the perfect husband...the perfect lover. I would rather be dead than have hurt you like I just did."

"I'm so ashamed of myself... I'm too embarrassed to look at you...I listened to those jealous bitches and destroyed our marriage. But I swear on all that is holy that you are the only lover I have ever had...and I ruined that. I...I...I...I look at you I see the hurt I caused and I... I know what I am; I know what I did. 

I know I don't deserve a second chance, but if you could somehow find it in your heart, not to forgive me but just to keep the door open a crack. Give me the chance to prove I am worthy of being your wife. I'm throwing myself at your mercy." 

I pushed the box of condoms in front of her. "Open it." She didn't move.

I repeated, "You have ten seconds to open the damn box," or I will throw you out on the street.

Amy's eyes welled up with tears when she saw the photographs inside.

"You knew," she began to hyperventilate as she stared at a photographic history of our life together.

"And you were willing to throw it all away. Twenty-one years of marriage...everything we went through..." 

Behind the last picture was an orange Get out of Jail Free card from our Monopoly game. Amy stopped sobbing for a moment. Her expression changed to one of puzzlement. She turned it over. Written across it was I still love you.

"I would us that card if I were you." I said.

"Oh my god!" Amy screamed as she threw her arms around me. "I swear on my life I will never, never put myself in a situation like that ever again. I will make it up to you. I may be stupid but I have learned my lesson. You are the most incredible man ever. And I will never let you forget it." 

We slept arm-in-arm that night. The next morning I was a little disappointed that she wasn't in bed until smelled bacon cooking. I threw on my robe and went downstairs. Amy was standing in front of the stove wearing only her high heels, garter belt, and stockings. "Last night you told me not to take anything off until I said I could. You said that meant the shoes too." My tongue claimed Amy's mouth. 

"John, last night I almost made the biggest mistake of my life. I feel like I've been given the greatest second chance ever. I love you and will never again let you down."

Amy poured me a cup of coffee as I opened the newspaper. The front page story told of a big drug bust at Rick's Hi-way Lounge. Police received an anonymous call reporting someone selling roofies out of the men's room at Rick's Hi-way Lounge.

But this was not your run of the mill drug bust. It seems someone got revenge on the alleged dealer for selling date rape drugs. Police found him unconscious, his pants pockets packed with drugs. They believe at least two men were waiting for him in the men's room where they dropped him with a stun gun. They took turns playing piñata with his face and testicles. When both were beaten to a bloody pulp they dragged him into the handicapped stall, cut his silk shirt off, and duct taping him to the toilet. Using a permanent magic marker they printed, "I AM A DRUG DEALER. I SELL DATE RAPE DRUGS. I TRIED TO RAPE A WOMAN TONIGHT on his cleanly shaven chest." The coup de gra was they took pictures of him with his cell phone and sending them to every contact he had. 

They also found four stolen handguns in his car along with a variety of other drugs. The States Attorney said he was going away for a long time. 

Epilogue.

I never did hear from the police but it is always better to be prepared for the worse case scenario. 

The Birth Day Club dissolved. Amy no longer associates with those troublemakers. We do get together once a month with Jeannie, Becky, Ann Marie and their husbands. 

When Dick came out of his coma a week later he couldn't remember anything. Even after surgery he doesn't look too pretty any more. He was indicted for felony possession of a controlled substance and sentenced to fifteen years in the state penitentiary. He'll be peeing in a bag for the rest of his life and the only erections he'll be having is when his cell mates rape him...and for two cartons of cigarettes a month my old friend was able to guarantee his ass would be very popular in the showers. 

Oh, and Pastor Roberts really done good, with that forsaking all others vow. On January 31st we will be celebrating twenty-five years of wedded bliss.