78 comments/ 77507 views/ 15 favorites John and Chloe Morton By: Matt Moreau The party was okay as parties went. Well, it was except for the fact that I was all but an outcast at it. I'd known I would be. I knew no one, Chloe knew everyone; hell, she worked with them all at Sunset Properties and Real Estate. And, as usual, she floated around interacting with them all after abandoning me. Was I upset? In principle yes. What I mean is that I didn't like the people, and since I was certain that they didn't care all that much for me either, it was nice to not have to interact with them. But, that said, it rankled that my wife of twelve years would care so little about me as to abandon me and to blow me off when, after some little time, I'd had the temerity to mentioned it. "You're exaggerating John. Stop being crazy. Get yourself a drink and chill." And just like that, like I said, she blew me off. I could see the clock on the wall in the kitchen from where I was sitting. It read 10:30. It looked to be a long night of nothing for me. Patience not being my middle name, and with nothing else going for me, I decided to get some air. I took my drink—straight gin—and went out back to the patio. I heard some voices, soft, coming from behind a tree to my left some twenty or so feet away. They were evidently taking a smoking break. "Chloe looks good enough to eat," one of the two men said. "Yeah, but she bought mister boring with her; we won't be getting any tonight," said his compadre. "Never say never. All we have to do is get him talking, interested, about something, sports maybe. I heard him trying to talk to Nadine's husband, Mark, about the Cowboys, but Mark lost interest pretty fast. I think good 'ole John might be distractable if we went about it right," said smoker number one. I headed back in. I was mulling over what I'd just heard. There was nothing said that would have specifically indicated that Chloe had ever given in to these assholes. But, fact was that their words left me thinking that such was not beyond the realm of possibility. That said, at the very least their confidence that they could corrupt her was disconcerting. My wife had, it's true been less than attentive to me tonight, and that was a pisser, but, cheat on me, and with losers like the guys I'd just heard bonding with each other; I hardly thought so. That said, I decided to let them take their shot. Not because I wanted to test Chloe; I didn't. No, I wanted to be able to put the rascals down—at some future date—having collected evidence of their failure. At any rate I was prepared for their little ploy, and I hung around in the living room waiting for one or another of them to come to me. The ball was in their court. Now for a little background, background that is necessary to understanding what ensued at the aforementioned party and the days that followed immediately thereafter. ****** Chloe and I met in a bar, The Blue Fox. I was cruising; she was cruising, and damn if the twain didn't meet. We had a few drinks, we danced a few dances, had coffee at a nearby Bob's Big Boy, made out in the car in front of her apartment building, and were married six months later. How's that for being succinct? Chloe was tall at five-ten, and the body was a work of art. The voice was a lilting contralto, the hair the blond of legend; oh, and her smell that of a female in constant heat. And her heat engendered heat in me that threatened my health. Chloe was thirty-eight years old the night of the party just alluded to. And me...? I'm five-seven, medium build, been told that I'm handsome; and, if it matters, I'm possessed of a formally documented genius for numbers. That, I suppose, is my primary excuse for becoming an accountant. I'd done some interning early in my career, but now I was the successful entrepreneur: owner and operator of Morton Records and Accounting Ltd. Chloe graduated from our local junior college—A.A. degree—with an emphasis in General Business. She'd signed on with Sunset at a job fair sponsored by the college. Her initial position had been as an office assistant. But, after having passed the state real estate licensure exam, she'd begun rising in the ranks of sales agents. She was now their number one producer. Me? I graduated with an MBA in Business Administration from the University of Chicago with an emphasis in—well yeah—Accounting. Professionally, we were, the two of us, doing quite well, thank you very much. Our home life? Not so much. When first we'd met at the Blue Fox, we'd both been into our careers for nigh on two years. The only reason for mentioning this last was the common fact that we were, likewise, both busy trying to make a name for our respective selves in our professions which kind of put the boff on us doing a lot together. Still we did have our moments, and we did get along. Family? We'd had no children though of late we had talked about maybe going that route; well, the clock was ticking. Parents and siblings? Mine lived in Southern California, hers in Chicago. We saw them on the big Holidays: Thanksgiving at the one and Christmas at the other, and occasionally other times. We'd settled in Springfield, a couple of hundred miles from her parents; and did see them a sight more than we did mine due to the geography of the situation. As noted above, we generally got along pretty good, that is we had—emphasis on the past tense. In recent months, things had been a little on the what—chilly—side. Sex had been sporadic and while not exactly rare, it's been too rare for me. We'd talked it over, she and I, and things'd improved, but I was beginning to get the feeling that she was more or less just going through the motions, and it bothered me—a lot. A bored partner was a major turn off; well, it was for me. ****** I was milling around the room holding my martini and smiling a lot. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man talking to another man while furtively glancing in my direction. I smiled; the game was afoot. Would she or would she not? That was the question. She sure as hell was going to get the opportunity, about that there was not a scintilla of a doubt. The man approached me. "Howdy. Charles," he said, introducing himself. "John," I said. "You seem a little lost," he said. "Lost? No, not really, my wife works for the company; and, the party, she informed me, is kind of a command performance," I said. "I see," he said. "Which is your wife?" "Chloe Morton. She's around somewhere schmoozing the powers, I guess," I said. "Chloe, yes, one of our best," he said. "So the Giants gonna win it all?" "Football?" I said. "Yeah, the Superbowl." "I'm kinda partial to the Patriots. But, the Giants might do it if they find a runner in a heck of a hurry," I said. We talked for some little time, refreshed our drinks and talked some more. Every once in a while another guy would join us for a moment or two, and then drift off leaving us once again alone. It was clear that Charlie, good 'ole Charlie, was running point for the gang of seducers. Still, my plan, my test, per my wife's fidelity, required that neither he nor I make an issue of the fact. And, for the hour and four minutes that we were engaged with each other, Chloe had not once made an appearance. Over the course of the conversation with Charlie, and with the alluded to parade of company minions, I'd drawn a couple of conclusions. One Charlie was a moron. Capable of tying his shoes I was sure, but not much beyond that. Two, the parade of minions were not even up to his standards! Of course they were but four of the probably forty souls at the party, so any generalization as to the intellectuality of the Sunset Enterprises workforce would have been premature. Nevertheless, had I been in charge of their HR division, I would have been more than a little worried. All of the above being true, the world still turns on its axis; and at length Chloe did return. Her face was flushed, her makeup not quite smeared, her hair was now tied in a ponytail, and the buttons on her blouse were misaligned: Jesus! she must think I'm blind as a bat, I thought. She'd been fucked, probably, by at least four different men. Charlie was standing by me when she came up. His face initially signaled some little alarm—even Charlie could see that Chloe was a mess. This was my moment. One that I had mentally prepared for. I had planned for either of two outcomes; this was outcome B. "Hi honey," she said. "Ready to go home?" I was smiling to beat the band. "No-no, not yet. Charlie here has kept me busy for the past hour or so; and we're just now getting to know each other well enough to consider ourselves close acquaintances," I said. "Huh?" she said. Now, Charlie began to look even more uncomfortable than he had been. Even so, he was clearly not quite getting it. "Yes, of course. Hi, Charlie. So, you and my hubby have been getting to know each other?" said Chloe. "Why yes, actually..." he started. "Well, not exactly, dear," I said. "I've been getting to know him, but he hasn't a clue about me." My wife knitted her brow and spread her hands in a whaddya mean gesture. She knew me, and she knew what my tone presaged. "Well, dear, actually he's been keeping me occupied while you were getting screwed by three of the four musketeers, you know: dickhead, butthead, asshole and jackass," I said. I was making a leap to judgment here that the three minions, who had earlier joined Charlie and me for conversation, were the ones who were banging my woman and hanging horns on me; and, Charlie of course had to have been the fourth; I wasn't sure how he'd managed it, but I was sure he had. "What are you saying!" said Charlie, now clearly understanding why he was feeling uncomfortable. "I'm saying, Charlie, that you have been keeping me busy while your buds screwed my wife. "Isn't that so, dear?" I said. My demeanor was very obviously keeping my wife off balance. "What are you talking about!" she said. I smiled and stared at her. She started to switch her weight back and forth between her legs. You can't talk to me like that! I have done nothing wrong." "Hmm..." I started. "What makes you think you can talk to me, accuse me, like this and get away with it!" Charlie said, his voice rising a noticeable decibel or two. "Well, Charlie, because my IQ is six points higher than Einstein's, and yours—well—isn't," I said. "Now, wait a minute you arrogant bastard!" he said. "Yes, I'll wait. I don't want to go home yet. It's still early. I want to stay a while yet. And, Charlie, I've gotta tell yuh, man; you stink! What is that awful cologne you've got on. Where did you get it? The dollar bin at Wall Mart?" I turned away from him to pay attention to my wife. I think his mouth was hanging open. "You okay with hanging around a little while, dear?" I said. "No, I'm not okay with that. How dare you accuse me of cheating on you! I repeat, I've done nothing wrong," said Chloe. "Chloie, Chloie, Chloie. Why did you change your hairdo, dear, and your makeup is very different than when we arrived, and your blouse is mis-buttoned; and, I really hate to bring it up, dear, but you smell like Old Spice. And, I'm betting the farm that your undies, if you're still wearing any, are not in the same condition as they were when we left home earlier tonight!" "Well..." she started and stopped. "Well what, dear?" I said. "John, I..." "Yeah, Johnny baby, you try anything, and you might have a problem," said Charlie, now almost frothing at the mouth. "Try anything? Why would I want to do that? I'm not into fisticuffs," I said. He sneered. "That's what I thought. You're a wimp, aren't you, Johnny baby," he said. "Quite possibly," I said. "And, you're a moron." "John—please, can we go home. We need to talk. I mean right now," she said. I was howling inside. "No, anything you've got to say to me can be said here in front of my new bud, Charlie." I said. "I ain't your bud," Charlie said. "Now, now, Charlie. I'm not mad. Only dogs get mad. A little disappointed in myself. I mean I thought I had it pegged that Chloe would send the lot of you home with cases of blue balls, but I clearly misjudged her in that. "How long have you been hanging horns on me, dear?" I said. "I'd really like to know." She looked away. "Jesus, that long?" I said. "I had no clue. Well, as they say, love is blind." "What are you going to do?" she said, looking me straight in the eye. I looked around. We were actually standing inside the formal dining room, of her boss' house. No other folks were immediately nearby, but we had gotten looks from the occasional pass-througher. "Depends on you. You wanna stay married to me?" I said. Her look brightened slightly. "Yes!" she said. "Well, okay. I can live with what you did—been doing tonight—but there is a price. Actually, a small one in your case," I said. "Okay?" she said. "We make the rounds here, now, tonight, and inform all of the wives of the fuckwads you did it with exactly what you did," I said. Her eyes got as big as dinner plates. "John! No! I'll lose my job! John, anything else, please!" she said. "Look, John, she's right. No harm no foul, bud. Please. I'm asking you too. Those guys; they were only after a good time. There was a bet..." "Oh ho! I'm your bud now?" I started. He quailed. "A bet! Hal and Murray and Bill and you bet you could do me, Charlie!" said Chloe, now my wife was pissed. "Well, the boys, well they thought it was kick—you know to try and do you while your hub...John... was..." said Charlie "You bastards!" said Chloe. "Yeah, they did, Chloe," I said. "I heard two of them talking when I went out to get some air. You weren't around, and I was bored. "The two guys I heard talking didn't know, at the time, that you were already boning her though, did they Charlie?" I said, as I pinned him with my look. I was guessing, but it made logical sense. "Listen, John, please, we could all lose our jobs. Please, don't do this. I'm begging you," he said. "Hmm, that would be tragic. Tell you what. You guys are all married right. Kids? The whole nine yards, right?" I said. 'Well, yeah," he said. "Well, okay. This is the deal. You fellows screwed my woman, my wife, the love of my life. And yes, Chloe, there has never been anyone but you in my life, my heart. My god how I love you!" She started to cry. "Still, Charlie, you and your friends—and I mean all of you—need to pay. You, Charlie, are going to manage things. You are going to set it up so I can have a shot at your wives—all of them." His eyes glazed over. The two of them seemed almost catatonic. "Wha...?" said Charlie. "I'm not speaking Greek, Charlie. I'm gonna fuck your wife and Hal's and Murray's and Bill's. Got a problem with any of that, Charlie?" His mouth was hanging open. He seemed frozen in place. "Here's my card, Charles. Call me, by tomorrow. "Now, I think we can leave. Coming, dear?" I said. ****** I watched her disrobe. She was angry or scared or something. Scared was the most likely. "You really going to fuck other women? Cheat on me?" she said. I started to laugh. "Is that a serious question from the woman who only an hour ago was busy making me her cuckold. Humiliating me with the people she works with? Is that it?" I said. "Well I..." "Exactly. Fair's fair, right Chloe?" I said. "John—honey—I screwed up, okay? I did it, and I'm sorry. But, well, two wrongs don't make a right. Please don't do this. Those women might not even do what you want anyway, and having those men ask them to will only tip them off as to what their husbands did. Yes, I admit it, and me too," she said. "Tell me, Chloe, what would you have me do? Just forget about it and go on as though nothing happened?" I said. "Well..." "Go on, convince me. Tell me what to do," I said. "Because I am not into being the laughingstock of your company." "John, if you will let this go. Just forget about it like you said; well, I would be very grateful. And I will do more than my level best to make it up to you. We can start right now. Let's go upstairs, so I can make the first installment on my promise. Whaddya say?" she said. "You're actually offering me sloppy seconds. You're going to actually have me couple with you while you're full of cum from four different men? That's your idea of making it up to me?" I said. She paled. "Well—no—I mean, I wasn't thinking, of course I'd shower and clean up first," she said. I smiled. "Let's go," I said. "I'm pretty sure none of them had your ass. I'll dump my load in there. Okay?" I said. She looked at me, horror painting her face. "John, I never, I mean you and I have talked..." she started. "You turning me down, Chloe? Your 'never' ended tonight as far as I'm concerned," I said. Her face was sheet white, she was shaking her head, she'd backed up a couple of steps: she was actually afraid of what I was suggesting. "Never mind. I'm kinda turned off anyway with all of this talk and with what all happened tonight. I'm tired. I'm gonna just go to bed." "Wait, wait. Okay, John. My ass, take my butt. I owe you that much at least," she said. I wasn't smiling now as I answered her. "No, Chloe. I don't want to anymore. For these last many months you haven't been interested in having sex with me at all. Oh, when I really pushed, I've been able to get you to spread for me. But your heart hasn't been in it. The fact is you've been bored with me. And, as a result you've been boring. I need more from my woman than just tolerance. I need excitement, love, enthusiasm. What I've been getting from you, frankly, has not been enough. So no, your butt's safe from me, Chloe. You have nothing to fear," I said. "John, I'm sorry. Please, give me a chance. I know I can make this right with you. I will do my best to change—no—I will change. It will be like it was when we were first married. Just give me a chance. Please, John," she said. She'd just said the magic words. To anyone else it might have seemed too little and too nothing. But, when we were first married the things we did were scorching hot! I did want that back. I wanted it back more than anything. More even than getting revenge on the five sinners." "Okay," I said. "But, I'm not messing around here, Chloe. If I suspect that you're faking it, if I find out that you are spreading for anyone else, I will lower the boom on you and them suddenly and without remorse. No second chances." "John, thank you-thank you-thank you. "John, can I ask for one favor?" she said. "What favor?"" I said. "Can I call Charlie and tell him that he doesn't have to—set things up? Please." I nodded, but with narrowed eyes. Did she have Charlie's personal phone number. And if she did, why did she have it?" ****** "No, don't suck it. Tickle it. Tease it. Play with it," I said. She scooted down the bed a little ways and began doing what I'd asked of her. She was driving me crazy. It was something we hadn't done for years and now we were again. Her touch was so light, so soft. It took a little while, but I shot a rope three feet into the air. I lay back gasping for breath from the tension. She switched positions and got up on her knees. She pushed her butt back at me. I started licking her pussy, yes even with their cum still in it, my nose grazing her anus. She was woman and she was sexy and she was mine. She was mine for at least this night; I was sure of it. She wasn't faking it. She was trying a little too hard, but how do you fix something like that on the fly; I sure as hell had no clue; so, I let her keep trying. "I knelt up and rubbed my cock against her slit. I started to push in, but she stopped me. "John, I want you to take my ass. I won't kid you, I'm a little afraid of it; but I do owe you, and I swear by god that there will be no faking it anymore. Enthusiasm? You want enthusiasm? Well, do me good. Do me like the bull you used to be. Don't mess around okay. But, for god's sake be careful with me this first time. Please," she said. John and Chloe Morton This changed things. I looked around, no KY. I got my face down there and made serious love to her anus. "Huh? Wha..." "Just relax, wife. This one is going to be the best I can do," I said. I was still soft, but I was recovering. I could feel it. There was just something sexy and obscene about sucking on my wife's butt hole. I began to enjoy it—a lot. It took some minutes, but I got it up again. And, at least the outer rim of her anus was well lubricated. I knelt up again and began to push inside of her. I got the head in and paused. "Go ahead, honey," she said. "Take me." I did. Soon I was seesawing in and out of her. I got myself into a rhythm and I could even feel her pushing back at me to get me deeper. She was enjoying it! "You okay, wife?" I said. "Yes, yes, stop talking and get serious now, okay," she said. A few minutes more and I unloaded inside of her. I felt her buckle and squirm. I was pretty sure she made it. We lay half comatose for some little while. I felt her eventually slide down my body and start playing with my dick. Even covered in her dirt as it was; she took it in her mouth and got me seriously hard. She worked me up to the point where I was going to roll her over and fuck her juice laden pussy, but I never got the chance. I blew my third load of the night, and painted her ribcage instead as she jerked her mouth off my exploding dick. I felt like a bum not being able to get her pussy off. I'd wanted to take her pussy, take my sloppy seconds; hell, I'd eaten her with the cum still coating her insides. But, there was no way, I wasn't going to get it up again for quite a while, maybe not until morning, I thought. She rolled off to the side and onto her back. We lay side by side huffing and puffing. "You didn't get off, did you?" I said. "Almost when you were doing my butt," she said. I nodded. Then, I did something that would lead to a whole new set of rules and druthers down the road. I spun around on top over her and went down on her again. She tried to buck me off, but I was not going to be denied or stop until I was sure she'd made it. "What the fuck are you doing, John! You don't have to keep doing that. You can do me in the morning. At least let me shower! I stink!" She was all but screaming. I ignored her. Soon, she went silent, breathing heavily, but generally silent. I felt her stiffen and moo and make small gurgling sounds. She'd made it. She shivered and squirmed under me for some little time before stiffening and farting. Oh yeah, she'd made it. Finally done, we lay cuddled in each other's arms. "Why?" she said. "Because I love you, and because you went down on me even though there had to be stuff on my dick that you won't be finding on the menus of any restaurant worth its salt," I said. She laughed. "No, I wouldn't suppose so," she said. And then we slept. ****** I was stirring my coffee, coffee that had nothing in it to stir. Well, it was a habit. "Why do you do that, honey," she said. "Don't know. Nervous habit, I guess," I said. She paused; she sighed; she folded her hands in front of her, and looked over at me. "So, where are we, John? Where do we go from here?" "We put one foot in front of another and start over. I love you, Chloe, and don't want to lose you. I don't know how long you've been cheating on me, but before we leave this table this morning I'm going to know. I am also going to know the reason why. And, you're going to convince me that you won't do it again. "Your friend, Charlie called me a wimp. I guess I am when it comes to you. But I am not totally brain dead. The fact is I'm pretty smart. Right now, I have it within my power to destroy Charlie and Murray, and Bill and the other guy. But..." "John, my affairs haven't hurt us, and they're not going to hurt us now," she said. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you saying, implying that you intend to keep on doing what you've been doing?" I said. I had not so far raised my voice. "Well—no—not exactly," she said. "Not exactly? What the hell does that mean!" Now, I had raised my voice. "I know—I mean I realized that I humiliated you at the party. One, by not paying attention to you most of the night; and two, by humiliating you in doing it with those men while you were there. But..." "But what?" I said. "Well, when we left, when we were in the car on the way home, I was trying to think of ways to make it up to you, beg your forgiveness while swearing to myself the whole time that things like that were never going to happen again. But then—well—you virtually forced me to have sex with you. Sex by the way, that was the best we'd had in years. And yes, I mean including you doing me in the butt," she said. "You ate my pussy with their junk still in me, you frenched me knowing I'd probably sucked their cocks. You were an animal." "So, I was horny? So what?" I said. "Well, it showed me that what I'd done and had been doing was no threat to us, and, I think you realized it too. Sooo..." "Get to it, Chloe. I'm tired of the word games. Okay!" I said. "So, I want to continue. But instead of me being selfish about it, I want to include you. I mean us be a team. What do you think?" she said. I think my mouth was hanging open a foot. "You telling me I'm not enough for you? Is that it?" I said. "John, please don't get mad, okay? But, John, you're okay in bed. And sometimes, like last night, you do real good. But—well—overall you're at best average. I'm not saying that to hurt you. My god I'm not, I swear. In every other way you do it for me. You do it better than anybody, but when it comes to sex..." she stopped in mid-sentence. "What ways, other ways do I do it for you?" I all but snarled. It may have been my imagination but she seemed to shudder. "John please, You're the best in the really important things. Sex, the best sex, is only a matter of a few hours a week at most. The stuff you do, that your good at; well, it's all of the time. "John, you make a home for us, you make me feel safe and loved, and valuable. It's you at night I look to for comfort and reassurance that everything is okay. I'd let myself forget all of that for a while, but I never will again," she said. "Never! John, I am so ashamed of the way I treated you at the party. I'd rather die than humiliate you like that again. Honestly." I felt my breathing becoming labored. I was snorting, angry, full of disgust. "I'll be leaving now. I will see a lawyer this afternoon. You probably want to see one too," I said. Her eyes went wide. "A lawyer? Why?" she said. "You're not thinking of doing something rash are you, John? Please tell me you're not." "No, I'm giving you what you evidently can't live without. Now that I know I'm all but worthless in bed; a pretty good hit to the old ego, I gotta tell yuh; I coulda gone my whole life without hearing any of that shit; I'll be divorcing you and getting on with my life. You be well, yuh hear. I do love you, Chloe, oh my god do I, even though it's clear that you don't really love me," I said. I stood, looked around, and smirked my bitterness at her. "Thanks a helluva lot for nothing," I said. I grabbed my coat and keys and headed for the door. She finally found her voice. "John, wait! I do love you. I love you the most John, more than anybody..." I think she realized what was saying and she stopped and covered her mouth with her hand. I'd stopped when I heard her say that last and stared at her. Her look was pleading; it was almost funny. "John, we need to talk some more. John!" But, I was gone. ****** "He just walked? And you haven't seen him for the past three days? Or heard from him?" said Charlie. "No, and I'm scared. I can't lose him, Charlie. I just can't. He's everything to me in the most important ways. And, I told him that. He just wasn't hearing me. I don't know what to do, Charlie. What should I do," she wailed. "Not much you can do unless he comes back and gives you that chance. I can't believe you told him he was no good in bed. You had to know that that was going to hit him pretty hard in the old ego," he said. "Yes, yes, I know that now. But, I didn't mean it that way. He's not that bad. Just not extraordinary. He's okay, actually. I like it when he tries to please me," she smiled. "I get a kick out of how desperately he tries to please me; it's so cute. In those moments I do my level best to make him think I'm cumming. But, now..." "Make him think you're cumming! Are you kidding me! JESUS-HQ-REE-EYEST! You have no hope of getting that man back. He knows now what you really think, and he also knows that he can never please you. Sexual prowess is everything to any man. You could wear your sexiest clothes, spray on your most man-destroying perfume, and he wouldn't even be able to get it up for you now because of the horrible humiliation you laid on him. Worse, he might not be able to perform for any woman; that's how bad what you did was. "Criminy, Chloe, you are so damn dumb. What were you thinking!" said Charlie. "I told him he was far more important in everything else; everything that really mattered. He just wasn't hearing me," she said. "There is nothing more important than sex, Chloe, nothing! Not to a man. Okay, maybe air, food, and water; but nothing else. I'm telling you. If you have a brain in your head, and that's a very doubtful proposition from where I stand. You have to plan, and plan good in case he does return. Jesus, if he unloads on the rest of us because of the hurt you dumped on him, there'll be a whole bunch of other divorces, not just yours and his. And, I mean hell to pay! Hell to pay, goddamn it!" ****** I'd been sitting on the same barstool for the best part of five hours straight, well, not counting a number of peepee breaks. The Gridiron served ale on tap; I'd gotten to like the ale better than beer. The burgers were pretty good too. And the Grid had the added benefit of a bartender who knew his job: Ray Goodman wasn't pretty, but he did know his sports and he could be counted on to entertain the occasional hapless or otherwise unhappy patron that had the unmitigated temerity to darken his door. I was one such patron for damn sure. "So, she insulted your manhood. Is that the only reason you're dumping her," said the lady on the barstool to my right. "Melanie, she cheated on me. Probably for a long time, maybe years. Never got a straight answer to that one," I said. "Oh," she said. I hadn't seen her in more than twenty years, but I recognized her right away, and she me. I'd known Melanie Landsdale since we were kids; we'd gone to high school together. I'd been her date for her senior prom. She'd been a year behind me and had been more than good to me by asking me to escort her. Petite at five-two and less than a hundred weight. She was pretty and delicate and kind hearted. Hell I shoulda asked her to marry me instead of the whore I had. But, here she was trying to convince me to go back to Chloe and try and work it out. Women! Did they all stick together in these kinds of things? Sure seemed so. "Well, even so. Unless your marriage was on life support for other reasons, there might still be hope for the two of you," she said. "Yeah right, like that's a possibility," I said. "Let me ask you big boy, Have you cooled off a little since you had the blowup?" she said. "A little, I've gotten my breath back," I said. She smiled. "Hmm, You might want to try one more time, John. You gotta key to the house. You probably left most of your clothes and what all there. Right?" she said. "All of it," I said. "I'd had to shop to have anything to wear these past few days." "There's your face saving excuse. You're not going back to makeup—which you really are—you just need your clothes. If she blows you off, unlikely from what you told me, you still have the initiative. If she begs for forgiveness, likely from what you're telling me; well, you've got the initiative. So have your conditions for reuniting ready," she said. "I don't know. She thinks I'm worthless in bed. How am I supposed to get around that?" I said. Now she laughed outright and seemed unable to stop. She started holding her side she was laughing so hard. "Yeah funny," I said, without a trace of humor. "Calm down cowboy. We women can build, crush, and rebuild a man's ego almost at will. Give her a chance. But, John, do not be her willing cuckold under any circumstances. If fucking around on you is her idea of a happy marriage, get the hell out of Dodge muy pronto," said Melanie. "You don't need it, the stress, nobody does." I was nodding, unconsciously nodding, and I could not have said why, not at that moment. "I don't know, Mel, she clearly doesn't want me. I mean what would be the point?" I said. "That isn't what you told me just a bit ago, John. She said that she did want you. She did also say that you weren't exactly an allstar in bed, but not every guy is regardless of what any of you guys think. That she said that to you is curious. If I had to guess, she might have been trying to get across two thoughts. One, she wanted to be absolutely honest with you no matter what; which, is a good thing in itself. Two, she wanted you to realize that, while sex was a neato thing, it pales in comparison to all of the things you—John—are good at. "John, that you took her words as a total put down seems way out of whack to me. Still, all of the above said. She is a cheater. That leaves you with three decisions, choices, to figure out," she said. "Yeah, and what might those be?" he said. "One, you have to decide if you are willing to try and get by her serial cheating over so long a period. Your rationale for that might be that the quality of life you enjoyed—in your ignorance of what was going on—makes such a choice palatable. Two, you need to decide whether or not you can believe her if she does make the decision to give up her little bedroom adventures; and this one might be hard to rationalize. Trust is a fragile thing in a marriage once lost it's real hard to get back. And finally, You have to decide whether or not it's worth all the hassle of going back regardless; this one is a matter of how you feel. "You know, you should have been a lawyer, Melanie. I mean...?" "I am a lawyer, big boy: Murphy, Jones, and Putnam," she said. I'm a senior associate. She handed me her card. That I was speechless was a matter of scientific fact. "We have offices downtown." "Huh?" was my more than brilliant reaction." "Call me. Let me know if you need any help," she said. I think I was nodding. ****** I looked around and everything seemed normal. No sign of Hal, Murray, Bill, or Charlie. I was standing in the living room when I heard the garage door opener engage. She was home. I decided to play the role. She came into the living room. She looked kinda a down and out. Then, she saw me. "John!" you came home. Thank god! I was so worried," she said. I remained silent. I had a plan. "John? Are you okay? Are we okay? I know I blew it the other day. God, how I wished I could have those stupid words back," she said. I still remained silent. "John come on, please, say something," she said. "Whaddya want me to say, Chloe? What is it you want this worthless in bed cuckold to say?" I said. "My god, how I must have hurt you! I will never forgive myself. I didn't mean it, John. Not like it came out. Really, I didn't. You're fine in bed. And a cuckold? That's just a meaningless word. You're my husband, and the only man in the world I give a damn about," she said. "I am so sorry." "The other day you essentially told me that you were going to keep on doing it, cuckolding me. Your tone indicated that you were not only going to keep on doing it to me, but that you were going to be keeping on whether I liked it or not. Has anything changed since then?" I said. She looked down. "Yes. I will not do it any more, John. I promise. And, I will make it my business to be a better lover than I have ever been, and all for your benefit and yours alone," she said. I nodded. "The reason I'm here, Chloe, is that someone advised to try and save our marriage in spite of what you've done to me. They also advised me to never accept being a willing cuckold. Not much I can do about what went on before. But no more. No more, Chloe," I said. She began nodding furiously. "Oh my god! You're going to forgive me! Thank you-thank you-thank you, my husband." I wasn't able to withstand her onslaught: she bowled me over onto the couch and began kissing me as though her life depended on it. I'd have to guess that it was half an hour later, that we lay beside each other on the bed, naked and smelly and covered in each other's juices. "God that was good," she said. I rolled onto my side to look at her. Her gaze was firmly focused on the ceiling above us. I could tell by her look and her tone that what she'd said was for the benefit of my ego. She wasn't actually lying, I didn't think, but she wasn't being exactly straight with me either. I didn't push it at that moment, but there would be a time; yes, there would. "Chloe, I love you. I love you more than my life. But that love took a pretty good hit when I found out about your—proclivities. I hope we can get ourselves to place where we're gonna be okay, where I can trust you and trust what you say. For us to make it, trust is going to be a prerequisite," I said. "I know. That will be my number one priority," she said. The words were right, but like I said, I'm pretty smart. There was something in her look that left me less than certain of her sincerity. I nodded, closed my eyes and hoped for the best. Melanie, I thought, I sure hope you were right in getting me to come back. ****** "Chloe, you look happy today," said Charles. It was a slow day at the office, and most of the agents were at their desks busy with paperwork or down at the hall of records doing whatever. "I am. John came back last night," she said. "Well—good. And thank heavens. So, are you and I still on for the weekend, or...?" he said. "The party?" "Yes, of course, the party. The one that was supposed to help you forget your troubles, and your—we thought—soon to be ex-husband," said Charlie. She smiled. "There's not going to be a divorce, Charles. I just got done telling you that he came back. We're patching things up. We're sticking it out, John and I. But, to answer you first question. Yes, the party is still on, but John will be the one taking me. Sorry, Charlie, but I've got a whole lot of fence mending to do," she said. He snickered. "I gotta tell yuh, I'm glad he came back. I was still worried that he might—well—you know. But anyway, me and the boys can hang out on the sidelines for a while, that's cool, Chloe; but, I'll bet dollars to doughnuts you won't be able to stay faithful to him for long. You need more than any of us can give you, Chloe, certainly more than he can. You're a slut, a died in the wool down and dirty you better believe it whore—and that's a good thing as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, me and the guys are gonna be antsy, but we will be patient" he said. "You can hope but..." she started. You know, there might be a way. It'll be more the occasional thing," she said. "Occasional thing?" he said. "Yes, his job. He can be gone as much as eight to ten hours when he's handling a big ticket client for the firm. It's a run-run-run kind of business. He never even calls me. He just comes home and dies. Good money, but exhausting for him," she said. Charlie was nodding his approval. "Really good," he said. "Is there any way to get advance notice? You know so we can plan," he said. "Sure, I have access to his planner. It's a not a problem that part," she said. John and Chloe Morton "Sounds like we have a deal," said Charlie. "Oh, and Ritchie wants to join our little band." "Ritchie? Ritchie Peachtree! Are you nuts, Charlie! That's the boss' grandkid. If Elmer were to find out, we'd all be canned. That, not to mention the slew of divorces—including mine—that would definitely be happening," said Chloe. "Don't sweat it, girl. The boss isn't going to find out. We got stuff on the kid. He isn't going to be running to daddy. And, even if he did, we have leverage," said Charlie. "Don't tell me! I don't want to know," said Chloe. "Jesus this occasional gig of ours is already getting out of hand, and we haven't even done anything yet!" "You worry too much," said Charlie. She was shaking her head slowly. "You better be right, Charlie. I know stuff too. You fuck me up, and you'll be right there with me gettin' it in the ass, and it won't be pleasurable." ****** We arrived early. The party was to start at seven, but according to Chloe, she had to be there to help with the set up; and, she'd volunteered me to help out too. Jerry Belty, a friend and coworker of hers, caught me up almost as soon as we'd unburdened ourselves of our coats. "Nice to see you again, John," he said. "Could I get you to go with me to the store. Forgot a few things, don't wanna run out," he said. Chloe nodded her approval, I shrugged. "Sure, sounds good. Let's go," I said. "Glad you could see your way clear to come tonight, man," he said, as we tooled down the road to the supermarket. "Hope you have a good time." "Yeah, well, glad to be invited," I said. "I know Chloe is too." "Yes, yes, We all love Chloe," he said. There was something in his words, his tone, that made me feel a little uncomfortable. But, I laid it off to me being paranoid since the big argument. We got the stuff, salsa, ice, and more wine. As for the wine, Jerry allowed that there was plenty of beer at the house, but the women, who were mostly wine drinkers, had been somewhat shorted. We were tasked, as he said, to seeing to that particular oversight. ****** The food was good, the booze enough, and the party was in full swing. Chloe had wandered off, but we'd spent most of the night with each other or at least within sight of each other, so her being gone missing for a short time didn't bother me much—at first. But, then it did, And, I went on a surreptitious search. I found her, but she didn't know she'd been found. She was in the comfort room with Carol Mrowicki. And yes, I was listening in, just outside the door; call me a rotter. "So, you gonna let Charlie have you again?" said Carol. "Not sure. John has me on a short leash, and I can't lose him. He's way too important to me. I miss the sex, but if it comes to a choice between Charlie and the boys or my husband, Charlie and the boys come off a poor second," said Chloe. "You know there is a solution to your problem," said Carol. "Yeah, but it won't fly with John. I tried, and it very nearly cost me my marriage," said Chloe. "What if it was his idea," said Carol. "His idea? Yeah right, like that's ever going to happen," said Chloe. I could almost sense Carol smiling as the conversation came to a momentary lull. They were still talking as they came out. I decided to bust in on their little party. "Hey, there you are," I said, smiling at Chloe. "Yeah, we were just talking girl talk," said Carol. "Oh?" I said. "Not making any plans that don't include me, I hope." "No, no, honey, none," said Chloe. Carol gave me a look that I could not for the life of me read. As we danced I kept an eye out for anything that might have smacked of something untoward, unacceptable. I did see Charlie with his wife, Donna. Good 'ole Charlie was making a strenuous effort to not stare at me and mine. Bill was missing, out of town was the reason put forth. But, Hal and Murray—they guys I'd later learned, that I'd heard at the previous soirée talking behind the tree—were there. Hal was in evidence with his wife Florinda and Murray with his daughter Lindsay. As for Lindsay being his daughter, well maybe, but they were awfully cozy for a poppa and his baby. Well, he wasn't hitting on my wife, so for the moment he was safe. It was getting to be time to be thinking about going home when she came up to me. "So how we doin', sport," she said to me. "Good, Carol, good," I said. I'd been watching Chloe dancing with her immediate boss, Elmer Peachtree. "Have to say, I'm a little surprised to see you here tonight. Glad you came for sure, but surprised," said Carol. I looked her askance. "Really? And why would that be," I said. "Chloe and I are close. She told me what you two were going through. Well, maybe not all of it, but enough," said Carol Mrowicki. "Really, I would have thought she'd have been more circumspect," I said. I was gauging miss Mrowicki's intent. It had not been but a couple of hours since I'd heard her exchange remarks with my wife while they were in the bathroom. "She is, circumspect that is; I don't count as a blabee," she said. "She and I share almost everything. Yes, in the past, even those men. Of course, I'm single, so no biggee. Right? But, she's got you; and she's protecting herself there from now on, previous faux pas notwithstanding." "Hmm, okay?" I said. I knew she was dying to get something out, but was trying to gauge my possible reaction. She was smiling. "You ever cheat on Chloe?" she said. I gave her a sidelong glance that should have warned her off, but she decided to press on. "No offense," she said. "It's just that sometimes it's easier to forgive and forget these kinds of spousal miscues when things are even up, if you know what I mean." "I guess. I wouldn't know actually. First time I—we've—been in a situation like this," I said. "But, to answer your question, no I haven't cheated on Chloe. Okay?" I said. She nodded. "On another note," she said, "how's your sex life since—well—since the last party?" "Improved, I guess. But, what does that have to do with anything?" I said. She inclined her head to one side, paused, and then to the other. I noticed, not for the first time that Carol was a very nice looking matron. Maybe ten years older than Chloe and I, but pretty, still pretty. It was a mystery to me why she was still single. I decided to be something of a boor and ask. "You look very sexy tonight, Carol. Trolling?" She gave off a small laugh. "We women, especially we single women, are always trolling," she said. "It's in the genes." "Hmm, any luck?" I said. "Not sure, been hitting on you for the past little while, and I'm still not sure, like I said." she said. She stopped me with that one. I was temporarily speechless, not a common situation for me. "Cat got your tongue, big guy?" she said. "You know, Chloie owes you one. Instead of putting her under lock and key, you should consider using her proclivities to your advantage. But, that's just me, and I'm sex crazed, so maybe not too objective in these matters." Now, I was the one to laugh. "Yeah, right, like that's something that I would be into," I said. "You never know," she said. "You never know." ****** "You talked to Carol for a long time," she said. I looked over at her as we drove. "Well, she was company. I mean you were dancing with every male in the house for quite a bit," I said. Her look signaled alarm. "John? I didn't do anything wrong, I mean?" I softened my look. "No, no nothing wrong. But, anyway, that's why I was conversing with someone else. If you'd have been there, I would've been conversing with you," I said. She nodded. "They just kept asking me to dance. Most of it wasn't even close dancing," she said. "It's no problem. Don't worry about it," I said. "Okay, good," she said. ****** "Wow!" said Melanie. "You do know how to get yourself into weird situations." It was two days later. We were again at my favorite hangout: The Gridiron. "Seems, so," I said. "You gonna do anything about it?" said Melanie. "Hell no! What is it about you women, first Carol Mrowicki and now you?" I said. "I don't cheat, Mel, I don't. Frankly it's not even interesting as a fantasy as far as I'm concerned. "Mel, what turns me on is 'my' woman, naked and made up and hot to trot. Not squirreling around trying to hump another woman for the sake of variety; and, certainly not to get revenge. Talk about non sequiturs, it does not follow that doing a wrong thing makes another wrong thing better, at least not as far as I'm concerned. My imagination, Mel, is not so limited that I have to resort to cheating to get excited. So, again, hell no!" I said. She laughed. "My, you really are a straight arrow, aren't you, John," she said. "Well, if you end up in divorce court, give me a call." "Right, as though a woman of your class would give a guy like me a tumble," I said. "Don't sell yourself short, bub. You have character. Also you're a character. The combination is kinda interesting actually," she said. "Yeah right," I said. She got up then, kissed me on the cheek, and left. She'd gotten me to thinking. Would a woman like her: professional, pretty, clearly a free spirit really have anything to do with a guy like me: a freakin' accountant? I snickered, to myself, but I did snicker. She'd probably give me a short term look see, but I was so in reality vanilla that it couldn't last. But—then—I maybe I could lose some of the vanilla. Right? Like she said, interesting. ****** I got the call at home. Melanie had a surprise for me. It seemed as the local bar association was having a party. They needed a caterer and a friend of mine had such a company and managed to get chosen. I'd recommended him. Since his company only had a few employees; Ronnie, Ronnie Morris, had never done any big company dos. He only had but five employees. The upshot was that this would be his first big show. This time I'd be the one inviting Chloe to the do. That was the condition that Melanie had laid on me. Ronnie's company would service the affair, and he insisted that I had to be a guest if I could work it. I told him that I could. "Party? You want me to come?" she said. "Yes, we're invited," I said. "There'll be some high end VIPs there I'm hoping to make the acquaintance of too." "When is it?" she said. "A week from Saturday. Why is something wrong?" I said. "No, no. Sounds fine," she said. The words were the right ones, but she seemed tentative or something. Anyway, I made the call and confirmed. "That's great," said Melanie. "We'll be looking for you guys." Since the solving of our problems, the apparent solving, I still looked at things that way. Especially since my conversation with Carol Mrowicki. ****** "You gonna go?" he said. "Got to. He'd look me askance for sure if I didn't," she said. "Hell, he'd be suspicious and somewhere between neurotic and insanely jealous if it comes to that." "Isn't there some way you can avoid going? I mean don't you have a sale to make or something you could lean on?" said Charlie. "I don't know. I mean there are several sales in the offing for which I could engineer a business meeting, a dinner meeting that could run late. But, to disappoint him like that? Not a good idea," said Chloe. "You worry too much," he said. "We just have to be careful, and you have to be convincing when you tell him. Brush up on your acting skills. Come on, Chloe, our little get togethers are rare enough as it is." "Okay," I guess you're right," she said. She nodded, but she clearly had misgivings. ****** "Huh?" I said. "I just got the call, John. I am so sorry. It can't be helped. But, I know you've had the same thing happen to you before," said Chloe. "You go; your friend expects you, just don't be too late getting home. Okay?" "Jesus! I mean I really wanted us to be together tonight. You know, kinda an opportunity for me to brag on yuh," I said, I was smiling big time, but she wasn't. She looked—pensive, thoughtful. "Some influential folks are going to be at this one," I said. "People who know people who often have dos who might be persuaded to become clients." She was conflicted; I could see that. I read it as her being really upset with herself for not being able to come with me. I felt kinda good about that. Good enough so as to reassure her. "John I..." "It's okay, honey girl; it's okay. Business is business," I said. I was smiling high and wide. She returned the favor. "Thank you, my husband, you're the greatest," she said. "I'll be making it up to you. I promise." "No problem. Next time, okay?" I said. "For sure," she said. ****** The lay side by side, naked and exhausted. "Jesus, that was good," he said. "Ditto that," she said. "I'm kinda glad the others couldn't make it tonight. It would have been exciting, I guess, but I would Have been a physical ruin when I got home from my 'business meeting'." "Yeah, I guess that's so. I suppose the good news is that you won't have to risk tipping hubby to the reality?" said Charlie. "No problem with him, then. I mean about tonight; you coming here?" "No, but I feel guilty as hell doing it to him. He really had his heart set on us going together. I mean it would have been boring, but, I do owe the guy. I mean he does pay the bills. And, he did mellow out after catching us the one time," said Chloe. "No harm no foul. You'll be giving him his ration of sex tomorrow, right?" said Charlie. "Like I have a choice? Hell, I'm going to do my best to actually enjoy it," she said. "Hard as that may actually be after you do me." She laughed. He smirked. "Yeah, I guess," he said. ****** Ronnie's efforts did not go to waste. The party was a success. He had two new customers for the following month and they looked to be good sources for securing even more in the future. And, happily, so did I. I heard the garage door opener engage: she was home. "Hi, how was your meeting," I said, as she came in and dropped her briefcase onto the dinette table. "Good, good, very good," she said. She looked tired, and something else. I went to kiss her, but she begged off. It was then that I figured out what it was: the something else. Her smell! She smelled like Charlie. I was pretty sure that any business meeting she would have had, had not included Charlie, so the only conclusion to be drawn was that she hadn't been at a business meeting: she'd met up with Charlie and the gang. I decided to call her on it—sort of. "So who was there?" I asked. "Just three of us: Margaret Kusley and Gerald Wolf," she said. "No one else?" I said. "No, just the three of us. We talked long, ate big, drank bigger, and stayed late to talk some more," she said. Okay, I'd decided to call her on it directly. She'd clearly lied unless mister Wolf had the same bad taste in cologne as Charlie did. "Really? Then why do you smell like Charlie, and why won't you kiss me? I mean really?" I said. She paled. Right then I knew. I lost my friendly demeanor. "John..." "You put me on the back burner so you could screw him; that about it and the others, Chloe?" I said. She sank into the chair she was next to. She said nothing, but looked down: she clearly couldn't meet my eyes. "John..." I just shook my head and headed up to bed it was almost 1:00AM. I'd fight the battle tomorrow. No use trying to do it now. ****** I rolled over on the bed; it was 6:00AM. My conscious mind began to come online. She'd never come up. I sighed. So, not with a bang, but with a whimper. I headed into the bathroom to perform my morning ritual. Minutes later, done and dressed, I headed downstairs. I could smell coffee brewing. I loved coffee, nothing like it! She was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of java in front of her. It was still steaming. We didn't speak as I headed for the cupboard to get a mug, then to the coffee pot for my morning transfusion. Having gotten them, I took my seat across from her. "So, what now?" she said. "Divorce, I guess. You don't leave me much room to maneuver," I said. "Okay, if that's what you want?" she said. I raised an eyebrow at that. "Whatever," I said. I downed the coffee; it stung my throat. I got up and headed out. I was just tired of trying to get my woman to—well—be my woman. I'd headed out, but not to anyplace. I just got in my car and drove. I ended up at a local park. The trees and the pastoral-like environment appealed to me. My mood for whatever reason was mellow. It would change, I knew, but for moment it was mellow. I wondered what she was feeling? Was she mellow too? Did she really give a damn what I wanted, what was best for the two of us? I honestly didn't think so. I was pretty sure that she'd feel some empathy for me, but she wouldn't be losing all that much sleep because I was gone. Not even, she had her stud of the month; I was better off without her. ****** CHLOE: Where was he? I know I should have fought harder to keep him in tow. If he doesn't come back within the first 48 hours; well then, I'd probably lost him. That's what they say about kidnap victims, right? How did I feel about that? I honestly didn't know. He was a good man. Pretty much useless in bed, but in every other way..." I was going to miss him. Jesus! I hope he comes back. I need the sonovabitch! The knock on the door to the apartment was startling. "Charlie—Murray! What are you two doing here?" said Chloe. "You're kidding, right?" said Charlie. "I mean after your call to me twenty-four minutes ago," he said, checking his watch. "I called you to warn you. He knows, and he may be going to be making some calls. I just wanted you to have a heads up, you know, just in case," she said. "We have to talk, plan, do something," said Murray. "We can't just let him ruin us." "Not much we can do," said Chloe. "The boys and I think you need to try one more time. I mean—well—to try and get him back. Anything to get him to not torpedo us," said Charlie. She looked at him coldly. Her brow was wrinkled, her eyes were wide open, her lips were slightly parted as if to indicate that she wanted to say something but forgot what it was. "Get him back? One more time? Do anything?" she said. "Just what, big boy, do you think the chances are that I can get him to even be in the same room with me, let alone grant me an audience." Charlie looked about to say something, but she held up her hands to stop him. "No, let me answer my own question—none-Zero-nada." "Yes, we all understand that it won't be easy. And, maybe it can't be done, Chloe, but it's our only hope, our only chance. And we know what we're asking. We know that it will be tough for you on all levels," said Charlie. "Ditto that for me, Chloe," said Murray. She seemed to sag back, as if to put distance between them intellectually and emotionally rather than mere inches of real estate. She had been looking either down or away as they spoke. Now, she looked them in the eyes. "Difficult? Oh yeah, it's going to be difficult; and, it's probably a lost cause. But, that said, I'll try," she said. "But, hear me on this one. This one is for me: me and John. If he grants me any kind of mercy at all, I promise you, all of you, it will be the last you ever see of me. "I'll do it, but I am going to quit my job first. Then, I'm going to get blind falling down drunk. Then I am going to try and see him. Well, and then the fates will decree what they will decree. Any questions, boys?" she said. The two men slowly shook their heads. "Okay, then. The next time you hear from me it will be to hear one of two things: either that he went for it; or that he didn't." she spread her hands in a I'll-do-what-I-can gesture and then she was silent. ****** John and Chloe Morton The party, kind of a follow uo to the one Melanie's firm had hosted the month before, was going full blast. Three hundred guests and Ronnie's crew was doing it all. "Good job, John. Your suggestion to hire this group was a good one," said mister Miller, president and CEO of Miller and Blackstone enterprises. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate the kind words. I'll let Ronnie know too," I said. "I believe I can steer some business his way if he'd be interested," he said. "I'm sure he will be doing just that," I said. I was feeling good after mister Miller's little visit when I felt the tap on my right shoulder. I turned, and then, my stomach turned. "Chloe!" I said. "Yes, it's me," she said. "John, can you and I talk for a minute?" I hesitated. I wanted to talk to her and I didn't want to. I was more than tired of the lies, more than tired of playing second fiddle to a bunch of serious losers, and I was more than tired of all of the verbal put downs of my sexual prowess. But, all such being true, and it was all true, I still loved my errant whore of a wife. I nodded. I followed the woman off to the side where the shadows of an arbor's latticed roof offered us a smidgen of privacy and shade from the afternoon sun. I leaned back against a flower encrusted post—the flowers were artificial. I spread my hands in a get-on-with-it gesture. "I guess you're wondering why I'm here," she said. "Oh, and a nice hotel this one." "Right on all counts. What can I do for you Chloe. And indeed what are you doing here. Whatsamatter, Charlie and the boys busy tonight?" I said. "Don't know about the Charlie and the boys, but I'm not busy. Well, except busy trying to talk to you," she said. "Okay, I'm here, I'm listenin'," I said. "I don't know what to say. I mean since you left—I..." I watched her. She was doing her best to try and not blow this moment; I could see that. Did I want to help her out? I didn't know. I figured, she was here; she must have wanted me to do something or accept something or believe something. "Again, what is it I can do for you, Chloe? You have what you want, I guess, with the boys. You've made it more than plain that what I've got doesn't measure up, not in any meaningful way, important way, sexual way, not according to what you told me," I said. "So whaddya want? "Oh, and in case it matters, my stand on my woman being a one man woman—my woman—has not, nor ever will change." "What you want, John more than matters. I guess what I want is to take back all of the things I said. I want to turn back the clock and have you back in my life and be—yes—my husband again and my only man. I want to undo the hurt that I put on you. I—well—I want to do and be what you want me to, John," she said. Well, she'd said all of the right things. She said them. But, what she hadn't done and couldn't do was unsay all of the things she'd said before. Forgiving her would be easy. Getting back with her would be easy. But, forgetting what she'd said, her words? I knew for a fact she'd meant them when she'd said them, and how could I ever get around that. How could I ever get around the fact that no matter what I'd do or try that I could never please her. I decided to ask her that very thing. "Chloe, I love you. And, ironically perhaps, I believe that you love me. But, both things being true, and I am more than persuaded that they are; how can I ever get around the fact, that no matter what I'd do or try to do, that I can never please you," I said. I watched as she began to wring her hands. She began to pace back and forth: two steps to the right; then, two steps to the left. She almost seemed to be lost in some kind of psychological black hole. She stopped pacing. "John, since you left, I have done one helluva lot of soul searching. I have questioned my words, my needs, my attitudes, my actions—I mean with those men—all of it. "All, I can say for sure, John, is that I was confused. I think I was confused. Self-serving? Yes. But, nevertheless, true. And, it may be that I still am; I'm not sure. But, I don't think I am," she said. "So?" I said. "So, I think I was wrong about you being only so-so as a lover. I think I was wrong about needing more than..." "Yes, more than I could give you," I said. "And yes, it does sound self-serving." She had the decency to nod her understanding. "I think that at the time that I thought it was true, John. I mean that you weren't—well—but..." "But what," I said. "You saying it was true then but not now?" I said. "No, not exactly. I'm saying that it wasn't true then and certainly not now," she said. She'd said she'd been confused. If asked, I would have had to admit to confusion as we stood across from each other at this moment. But, I hadn't exactly lost touch with reality—yet. "Hmm. And, what, may I ask has brought you to these conclusions?' I said. "You'll laugh," she said. "Doubtful, but try me," I said. "The other men. Since you left, I've had sex with them, you know, a few times; and none of them even come close to interesting me now, anymore, let alone satisfying me. All I can think about is you and how it used to be with us. You know before..." "And, I'm supposed to believe this," I said. "It's the truth," she said. "Yeah, maybe. But, you'll pardon me if I point out the obvious fact that I'd heard other protestations of your love for me and your willingness to change that came to naught," I said. "Of course, and I understand how you must be thinking. But, I would really really like for you to give me another chance," she said. I just stared at her. "Another chance? You mean to be husband and wife and no other men getting into your pants," I said. "Yes," she said. "And you'd be absolutely thrilled with my bedroom skills from now on?" I said. "Yes," she said. "Chloe, do you have any idea how unlikely it seems to me that I could ever satisfy you in bed? I mean after you told me all of those times that I was pretty much worthless!" I said. "John, in all fairness, I never said you were worthless in bed. I said things like you weren't, you know, quite up to the skill levels of some others, but I never said I didn't like what you did for me, quite the opposite if you're honest," she said. I was fidgeting; I was beginning to get angry; and yet..." "Chloe, I have to get back to the party. I've got people, clients to attend to. I'll call you in a couple of days, and we'll see about talking some more. Would that be all right?" I said. "Yes sir," she said. "I'll be waiting for your call. I really meant what I said here tonight, John. Please think things over. Okay?" I nodded, we said our goodbyes, and then she was gone. ****** "You sure this is the way you want to play it, John?" she said. "you've been burned twice already." "Melanie, you said to give you a call, so I have. Am I sure of what I want to do? I think so. We did invest a lot into our relationship. I need to try. But, it's the last go 'round. If it works out, well, good. If not, well—good. I just know I have to try." "Okay, big boy, so let it be written so let it be done," said Melanie. "Manfred Kuhl will be on it, and, whatever she does, we'll know about it straight away." "He's good, right?" I said. "The best PI in the state. Like I said, whatever there is to get; he'll get it," she said. I nodded. The die was cast. ****** "Are we on for tonight?" said Charlie. "Yes, but I'm still skittish about bringing the boss' son into our group. Especially now that I actually seem to have a chance of getting my main man back," said Chloe. "He called me last night. He says we can talk, and his tone of voice was positive. So anyway..." "I understand and all of the boys know too," said Charlie. "We won't upset the applecart. Frankly, I am more than grateful to you, and him too of course, for not sticking it to us by tipping off our wives." "Yes, and you should be grateful. Anyway, okay then, but again; if John does come back we're all done after this last time. I won't be able to risk it after tonight; I mean if the news is good for me," she said. "Got it," he said. "Oh, and Ritchie is joining us this time around for sure. Actually he's excited." She noticeably shivered. "Damn, Charlie, that is so risky; and that on so many levels, I just don't know. The kid's only nineteen!" she said. "Twenty," said Charlie. "And he's cool. And it'll be cool, Chloe. Don't sweat it." She slowly shook her head. What was she doing? she thought. If John ever found out, her whole life would become a flaming ruin. And, yet she continued to risk it. Adding the Peachtree kid into the mix was certain to multiply the risk exponentially; she just knew it. Why was she doing it, really? Yes, the sex was primo. But, so what? It was like she kept telling John: sex was great three hours a week, but the other hundred-sixty-five hours was what the real marriage was all about; and for those vastly more important parts she needed a real man, a real husband; and, there was no doubt about it; John was the man. She laughed, if her man, her husband could only come to understand that great truth. But no, it was like Charlie kept saying: as far as the American male was concerned, sex was the big mambo, nothing else compared; and, she'd literally destroyed her man in trying to tell him the truth. Fuck! And we women were supposed to be so smart, she thought. Yeah, smart—not! ****** The house was dark except for forty watt bulb in the lamp on the end of the dresser nearest the bed; that, in the upstairs bedroom. Chloe had always considered sex with the boys something that was best suited for a shadowy environment and made sure it was always dimly lit. The man didn't knock; he just came in. It wasn't a surprise to her; he'd called but moments before announcing his arrival. She heard him as he climbed the wooden staircase. "Hello, girl," said Charlie, "the boys will be here shortly; they're coming in Bill's car." She tendered him a small smile. She was naked under the opaque, knee length, fuchsia slip she wore. "Charlie. John is moving back in tomorrow. He called. Tonight is my slut's swan song," she said. "After tonight I'm a one man woman." The man just nodded indulgently; his skeptical sense of reality clearly visible in his expression. He came to her and kissed her lightly, then more passionately as he melded his body to hers. Stepping back from her to gaze on her sensual curves, he was interrupted by a soft knocking on the front door downstairs. "The boys, I'll answer it," he said. She was already positioned on the bed when the five of them came in. "Well, who wants me first," she said. She was only half smiling. All of the newcomers began stripping, and that with a good deal of enthusiasm. "Chloe, Let's let our new team member go first. Okay?" said Charlie. She could see the boy was anxious. He was the only one who still had anything on. But, as for that, it was only his skivvies. She could see he was shy. She nodded. "Sure, he can be first. Do me good young man; I need it bad," she said. The boy was clearly uncomfortable. He approached the bed, but he was being tentative. When he stopped just short of the bed, she rolled onto her side and spoke to him. "Ritchie?" said Chloe. "Is something wrong?" "I—I..." The other four men were silent but they were not disinterested. "I've never done it before, not this," he said. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. "It's all right, dude," said Murray. "It's even easier than riding a bicycle." The others broke into a laugh, but it was the supportive kind of laugh, not the derisive kind. "Come over here, lover, momma's going to educate you," said Chloe. He came to her and crawled up onto the bed. "Get on top of me. I'll help you stick it in; then, we'll take it from there." He did as she said, and began to poke at her. "Stop. Here, let me guide it in, okay," she said. He let her rub his dick up and down her slit and then, positioning him just right, she bucked up and into him and got the head of his cock lodged inside of her. "Now, big boy, push in a little then pull out about half an inch and then push back in; then, push in and pull out slowly each time going a little deeper than the last. Okay?" she said. "Yes, ma'am," he croaked. After a little bit he was buried to the hilt in her pussy. "Just stay like that for a few seconds, okay," she said. "Yes, ma'am," he said. She took a few short breaths. "Okay, now I want you to start screwing me. Back and forth, let's get a rhythm going, okay." "Yes, ma'am," he said. "Oh, yes, that's good, just keep it up as long as you can. Screw me good. I need it." She well knew he wasn't going to last, not this first time, but he'd get her again before the night was out. She was going to see to that. And, he didn't, last that is. Three minutes into his efforts he blew his load into her and collapsed on top of her. "Oh my god!" he said. "I never..." "You did good, Ritchie, very good. And, you'll get better, I'm sure," she said. Over the course of the next while all of the men took turns fucking her. It was good, she would later allow; but, somehow, all she could think about was her John. This really was going to be her swan song, and this time Charlie would not be talking her out of it. ****** She heard the knock on the door and went to answer it. Opening it, she smiled at her man. "John, you do not have to knock this was, is, and always will be your house. Okay?" she said. He gave her a sheepish nod. "Hungry?" she said. "I could eat," I said. She smiled and led me to the kitchen. We talked while she threw together the bacon and eggs that I'd opted for. We talked about everything but 'the' thing. But, our silence on that little reality was about to end. "So, have any of my would be replacements called you in the past few days," I said at last. "John, none of those men were ever a threat to replace you, none of them. You have to believe me on that one. Yes, I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. And yes, I wanted to seduce you and bring you into the mix. But, never—and I mean never—was there going to be a time that if I'd had to choose that I would have chosen someone else, or, in terms of what we're talking about, someones plural. And John, I have chosen, and the choice is you. Those men have heard my swan song." What she didn't tell me, as I would later learn, was that her swan song was only hours old. "Okay, Chloe, I hope so," said John. ****** It was two days after my return to our house and my reunion with my wife that I found myself drinking at the Gridiron. I was actually waiting for Chloe to show up and make my day. We were going to have a couple of drinks and maybe a couple of burgers too and then go dancing someplace after that. It was noisy in the back. The kid making all the noise was maybe old enough to drink, I thought. He'd been haranguing a small group of his elders at a table in the back. I'd heard him order two rounds for his listeners so far, and they appeared rapt by his less than humble pronouncements. "Bartender," he called out. "Drinks on the house." I raised my eyebrows at the call. Ray, my good bud of a barkeep, put the free drink chip on the counter in front of me and made the tour of the room doing the same for the rest of the customers. Done he returned, checked my pilsner glass to see if I was ready to utilize my chip and started to walk away. I stopped him. "Hey, Ray, who is that kid?" I said. "A newbie," he said. "Turned twenty-one yesterday. I guess he has some money, and he's decided to do a little partying. I'm keeping an eye on him. I won't let him get too deep into his purse, especially if he gets a little too far into his cups. I mean if you get my drift. Name's Peachtree" I raised another eyebrow at that. Had to be a member of the family of them as owned the company that Chloe worked for. Interesting. I wondered what Chloe would have to say when she came in and saw somebody from her company carrying on like the boy was. Figured to be interesting. And, as if the gods were determined to see to it that I was right, she came in. She waved at me and headed in my direction. "Hi honey," she said, and then a big noise rose from the table where all of the fun was happening. Her face turned gray and seemed to age almost instantaneously. It was as though she'd been caught in something for which she felt terribly guilty. It was just then he saw her. His hurrahing ceased, he stared at her. "Chloe?" said the young man. He didn't seem to see me. I echoed him. "Chloe?" I said. "You know that kid?" "Uh-no-I-uh-no I don't think so. It's just..." "Chloe, give it up. I know you're lying," I said. "John, let's get out of here. We can talk in the car," she said. I nodded and started to get up and head for the register to pay. I stopped, looked over at the kid, looked at Chloe who had been leading me to the register. Suddenly, I had an idea, and I headed for the kid's table. "John, come on let's go," Chloe yelled after me. But I was already across from the kid. He'd evidently been drinking quite a lot. He was way past being able to dissemble. "You know that woman over there?" I said. "Yeah," he slurred. "I know her—knew her—uh—biblically 'bout a week ago," he said. "Great piece of ass too." "Yeah? really?" I said. "Good fuck, huh?" I said. "Sit down kid," said someone at his table. The kid ignored the guy. "Yeah. But, her husband is kind of a stuffed shirt. A real dork according to her. Won't let her have any fun," said the kid. "Won't even let her fuck around." He started laughing hysterically. "Really?" I said. "Yeah, really," he said. "But great piece. We all thought so. All of us." I nodded and headed back toward my woman—she who used to be my woman. "What did the kid say?" said Chloe as I came up to her. "Said you were a great piece of ass," I said. She paled. "He's drunk. I don't know him," she said. "Hmm, interesting. His relatives own the company you work for," I said. "Oh, and he said all of the guys with him thought you were a great piece." "John? Please?" she said. But I'd already thrown down a double sawbuck and was on my out and way from her. I had to get away from her and that very fast. ******* We were sitting in the Gridiron. Almost the same seats that Chloe and I had sat in the day before. "He said that? Sure he wasn't just some kid braggin'," said Melanie. Át first, that is exactly what I thought—till I saw her eyes. Then I knew," I said. She nodded. "So whaddya gonna do?" said Melanie. "Divorce her. She can't help herself. And, I guess the same can be said of me. I can't help myself either. I simply cannot and will not share my woman," I said. She nodded. "Mel?" I said. "Yeah hon," she said. "Make it as painless as possible for her, but get it done fast. Call her; ask her to come in rather than have her served. Okay?" I said. "Sure bet," she said. "Mel?" "Yes?" "We need to talk, you and I," I said. "Name the time and place," she said. "Now. Here," I said. She smiled. "I always say no time like the present. Seems like you and I think a lot alike," she said. I signaled Ray to freshen the drinks, martinis, beer wasn't cuttin' it today. They, the drinks, were on the table in a trice. I nodded my thanks to Ray. Things seemed to be going good for me today; they were just little things, but sometimes the little stuff, the mundane stuff were important too. "Mel—I've been thinking about..." I started. "John, I know I said name the time and the place, but thinking about it—now—well, I know what you're going to say. I feel the same way. But—until you are actually single..." John and Chloe Morton "Okay," I said. "But, when I am?" "Then, we talk seriously about serious things. I just don't want to get burned, and, in my experience it happens more often than not. "I'm a lawyer, John. I've seen a lot of bad stuff, a lot of illogical nonsense that nobody, and by that I mean not even lawyers and psychologists, could believe. But, all of that said, if you were single. And if you still thought the same way; well, that would be a whole different ballgame. Okay?" She said. "For sure," I said. "I'll be getting in touch with you tomorrow. You need to look at the papers I'm going to draw up. I know how to go about these kinds of things, and I will do my best for you, and for her too. I know what kind of man you are, and I promise I will not be running a scorched earth campaign. It's going to be simple, fast, and fair," she said. I nodded: the game was afoot. "One thing, Mel," I said. "Yes," I am not sitting still for all of those men to get off easier than me. Serve them too," I said. She raised an eyebrow at that. "John, how about this. Rather than serve their cheating asses, with all of the legal folderol that goes with it, we just alert their wives and girlfriends. Manfred has gathered some stuff that I was going to lay on you tomorrow, but since you've already found out it's a little bit passé now; still, that said, we could just send copies of some of the stuff to the women of the players and let the chips fall where they may," she said. I looked her askance. "Okay, yeah-yeah," I said, "that would be good. Make it happen. That would be good." Now I was smiling. Good 'ole Charlie and the boys would be dancing around like cats on a hot tin roof. I sure would like to be a fly on the wall in some of those guys' houses. Oh yeah, it was going to be real interesting. ****** The clock in the kitchen, where I was employing my microwave to toast me a frozen burrito, read 9:13PM. The phone began ringing just as the "done" buzzer went off. "Hello?" I said. "You mother fucking scuzbag! You've ruined my marriage. My twenty year marriage! You will definitely pay for this one; trust me," said a voice that sounded a lot like Charlie Cowan's. "Really? And what should happen to you for ruining mine," I said. But the line was dead; he'd hung up on me. I shrugged at the phone and went back to my late night snack of Mexican cuisine. My phone, my cell is all I had with me in my new digs at the Castle Lodge, and it was unlisted. If Charlie called me on it, Chloe had to have been the one to give him the number. That I hadn't heard from any of the rest of Charlie's gang indicated that they likely hadn't been so privileged of her; or, if they had, their wives had made it a moot point by killing them. The thought amused me. But, then I got the call that did not amuse me. "John," she said, as I answered her call. "Yeah, it's me," I said. "I notice you've given my number to your playmate. He called just a little while ago." "Yes, I know. But, I didn't give him your number. He took it off my cell without my knowledge; well, I found out later, actually. "John, I'm sorry. After we talked; Charlie pinned me. He wanted one last night with me: him and the boys. Since you hadn't made up your mind—well I figured one more time..." she said. "Yeah, your swan song," I said. "It was one last aria too many, Chloe. We're done. I suppose at some point you and I will need to be talking. But, we're done as far as our marriage is concerned. "You can tell the gang that the gangbangs are back on. I mean if you haven't already," I said. "John, all I can say is I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and that's a true fact," she said. I noted that she hadn't said anything about my statement regarding her gangbangs. I had to assume she was already looking forward to them. But, what the hell, for all intents and purposes she was single again. I sure as hell was, and Melanie and I would soon be having that serious talk we'd promised each other. "John, please don't make this any worse than you already have. I know you've sent stuff to their wives. I've been on the phone all day..." she said. "Yeah, well, I didn't want them being any happier than they've made me, so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from," I said. She was silent for a moment. "John, I..." "Never mind, Chloe. Those men if they didn't despise me before; well, they're going to be hating me now. Anyway, I have to go. We'll talk," I said. ****** I'd never been to her office before; it was a revelation. "Nice," I said. "I like it. Figured, that if I was going to work for somebody else, I at least wanted a decent office out of the deal," she said. "Yeah, well, you sure seem to have gotten your wish," I said. And, she had. The whole office seemed to be made out of wood. The desk was of oak. The walls were of redwood and tastefully decorated. I was sitting in a brown leather chair that seemed more like a throne. "Hmm, well, yeah; and my clients are usually more than impressed too," said Melanie: she wasn't smiling. "Anyway, John, she did come in and she did sign." "No hiccups?" I said. "No, not really. She just asked that you lay off the men from now on. I told her that I thought you likely would but that I couldn't guarantee it, especially if any of them tried to cause you more trouble than they already have," said Melanie. "Yeah, I'm done doing it to them; unless, like you say, they try to cause me anymore grief. You told her right," I said. "She did ask for a sit down with you. I said I'd mention it, and I just have," said Melanie. "You want me to set it up?" I thought for a moment. "Yes. I suppose so. The final curtain as one might be tempted to say," I said. She smiled. "Yes, indeed," she said, "the final curtain on act-one of your married life. Okay, then, I'll let you know." We talked for a few more minutes; then, she headed out to a court appearance that she had on her schedule. ****** I was seated at what had become my favorite table at the Gridiron; I was on my second beer. I'd expected her to be on time. For my part I'd come in early. And, as expected, she was, on time that is. What wasn't expected was her entourage. They were all there: Charlie Cowan, Hal Winetraub, Murray Dornan, Bill Owens, and Ritchie Peachtree—which last looked like a high schooler. I leaned back in my seat as they pulled up a couple of more chairs: the table was designed for four only, and we were seven altogether. I had to smile. "Sandbagging me, Chloe?" I said. Actually, I was pretty sure she wasn't, but I'd had to say it. "For God's sake, John! No! But, what I am doing is making sure we're all on the same page and that there will be no more hard feelings when we leave here. Well, that's my hope anyway. The boys won't be here long; this one is really for you and me. And, I think you had to hear a couple of things from them—candid things if that's the right way to say it. Plus if you want to ask any questions. Well, you deserve to have them answered; I mean if you do have questions," she said. I nodded. "Okay, Yeah, I do have a couple of questions. They all nodded their willingness for me to continue; all except the kid. It was clear he didn't know what to do. "Well, Murray, why did you do it? I mean join this gang of adulterers," I said. He smirked. "The obvious, she's pretty and sexy and forbidden. It was a turn on. If I may, I feel bad that it, what we did, wrecked your marriage. But, I paid; you've wrecked mine. I deserved it, and I won't kid you; as hypocritical as it may be, I'm bitter towards you about it. And, the only reason I'm here is to do what I can to make sure you don't do me worse than you already have. Anyway, all of that said, I am sorry for everything," he said. "Bill?" I said. He gave me a look; it was cold. "I ditto most of what Murray said. But..." "But?" I said. "I wanted to marry her. Hell, I still do," he said. He looked over to where Chloe was sitting. Her mouth was hanging open. "I'd be good for you Chloe. Really." "Hmm, budding love: how simply wonderful," I said. "Hal?" "Same as Murray, especially about the bitter part. I still love my wife even though she's dumping my cheating ass. Okay, well, I deserve it. She was always too good for me," he said. "Charlie?" I said. The excitement of it all. I loved it, all of it. The gangbangs became my forte. Frankly, and I won't kid you, the sex was fantastic," he said. "You shoulda joined us as far as I'm concerned." He was smirking but it was a sardonic smirk. "That was never going to happen," I said. "And how about you, boy?" I said, looking straight at little Ritchie. "I'm sorry, mister," he said. "But, well, I was new to this stuff; it sounded exciting. So I did it." I nodded. "So, are we more or less square, now?" said Charlie. "Square? We'll never be completely square. But, I will lay off anything else I might have planned to do; that is, so long as I have no more grief from any of you. That's about the size of it," I said. They all nodded. "Now for you and me, my dear," I said. That appeared to be the signal for the boys to cut country. There was a bustle of noise as chairs got put back and the boys all filed out. Chloe and I were left staring at each other. She didn't wait for me to say anything. "It was the sex, John. Always the sex. It still is. As good as you were in a hundred other things..." "Yeah, I know. I come up short in the biggee," I said. "Well, at least as far as you're concerned." She raised an eyebrow at that. "You have someone else already?" she said, fishing for news. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes; I think so," I said. "I gather by the way you're saying it that you satisfy her," said Chloe. "I'm glad. And for the record, as I think I've said in the past, you really weren't all that bad—even as far as I was concerned, as you put it. It's just, well..." "I get it Chloe. You didn't absolutely hate having sex with me; it just wasn't enough for you. Probably not enough even in the beginning all of those years ago. Right? I gotta tell yuh, you saying that to me hurt me worse than anything. I remember some words of Oscar Wilde that fit the occasion, Chloe. Some men (or women) kill the thing they love; The coward does it with a kiss; The brave man (or woman) with a sword. "I would have appreciated you stabbing me in the front, Chloe, rather than in the back, then justifying doing it to me because I was no good in bed. Well, you can imagine how I felt and continue to feel, Chloe," I said. "John, if anything in all of the things I've said to you are true; this is: I still love you, and I'm sorry for hurting you, and that in so many ways," she said. She began to tear up. "Well, you can take it from me that I'm sorry you hurt me too. And, trust me, that is more than the truth in every sense of the word. We talked a little more. She did tell me in so many words, that yes, she intended to keep on with her sexcapades in the future. Her telling me was, as she put it, to make sure that I knew that there would be no more lies; well, fucking wonderful. As for the list of men she'd be doing it with—well—that might change, as she also said, such given the experience that the current cadre have so far endured at my hands. Melanie and I are planning our future together. We will be married as soon as the ink is dry on the final divorce papers. That'll be two more months. The past several months have been blee-bloody fantastic. Well, sometimes a body gets lucky.