123 comments/ 80300 views/ 35 favorites Those Damn Traffic Light Cameras By: radk To the reader This is a work of fiction suggested by an actual event. The stop light was yellow and I was slowing down to stop when I saw a car coming from the opposite direction speed up to try to beat the red light. He didn't and the traffic light camera flashed twice, nailing him for running the red light. I smiled as I thought about those cameras. They're just about everywhere now and despite what the government officials say they're more about making money for the jurisdiction than about driver safety. And as I drove on I wondered what the fool looked like who just got his picture taken. That's when I came up with this little story. As they say on television, all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. And just as a warning, there isn't any graphic sex in the story. Hope you enjoy the read anyway. Thanks to jo for editing. © 2013 by the author. ******** As seen through Brian's eyes Leave it to the U.S. Postal Service to bring more bad news. After being a full-fledged tax-paying adult for almost ten years now I'm pretty used to getting all those crappy letters from the IRS, the California Board of Revenue, and the Orange County Tax Collector's Office. Hell, I'm on a first name basis with just about every government employee who has their hands in my wallet. I pay more than my fair share by God and don't need any extra surprises to dig my debt hole any deeper. But there it sits. A very official looking letter from the Orange County Police Department lies on top of the batch of mail I just brought in. I don't even have to open it to know that either my lovely wife Reese or I have run one of those damn traffic light cameras again. In the last three or four years, since those robotic monstrosities have been installed, I've been cited twice and my wife three times for running a red light. We aren't actually running a red light, we're just speeding up to get through the yellow light before it turns red because we're in a hurry to get where we need to be. But the little computer in the box atop the pole doesn't have any feelings, it just flashes its light and takes the picture of the so-called law breaker. It seems like both my wife and I are always in a hurry these days with the demands of our jobs and all. But the government doesn't give a damn about us and what it takes to live in a nice suburban home surrounded by nice suburban neighbors and jog in our nice suburban parks. They just look for more and more ways to suck the life-blood from all us little people. But no matter how much I hate the government and how their hands are constantly deep in my pockets I sit at my desk looking down at another traffic ticket. "Three to one odds that this one is Reese's," I say out loud to the empty room. I sliced open the envelope and pulled out the one page Notice of Traffic Violation. Among all of the computer generated blah blah blah about the violation were a series of photographs taken by the little robot. The first one clearly shows the back of the car and its license plate. "Yep, that's Reese's car all right," I said out loud again. I'm really glad it wasn't mine this time so I can be the high and mighty one in the upcoming argument. The second photograph shows the front of the car from a distance and it's clearly Reese's silver Toyota Prius in the middle of the intersection. The third photo makes me go bug-eyed. The third photo is a close-up of the front windshield of the car clearly showing the driver in such exquisite detail that I can see the silly smile on their face. The only problem is the driver is not my wife. The driver is a man. As I stared at the little picture I tried to speculate as to why Reese would loan her car out to someone. She probably did it and didn't tell me about it knowing I'd get upset at her for letting someone else drive the Prius, our insurance wouldn't cover anyone other than the two of us if there were an accident. And it hasn't been stolen because she drove it to work this morning. So why is someone else in her car? Better yet who is this mysterious someone? As I continued to look at the face of the man behind the wheel I noticed something quite odd about the whole thing. Looking between the steering wheel posts I could clearly see a white blotch covering the lower part of his torso. The problem with that is he's wearing a navy blue crew neck shirt. I looked closer and saw a hump beside him obviously on top of the console between the front seats. Something about the hump looked familiar but I couldn't immediately place what it was. I reached into my top drawer and pulled out an old magnifying glass I kept there for examining my stamp collection and focused it on the hump between the seats. Then I realized why it looked familiar. It's the exact same flower print of Reese's favorite dress. I looked up at the top of the page for the date of the violation. BA-BA-BOOOOOM!!! My mind just EXPLODED. Exploded with the realization of what I was looking at. The flower print dress was the one Reese wore to work last Tuesday, the day of the citation. The white blotch in the lap of the man driving the car is Reese's white blond hair. The hump between the seats is Reese's body leaning over the console of the car with her head in the driver's lap. I can only think of one reason for her to have her head in his lap, SHE'S GIVING HIM A BLOW JOB! And the man on the receiving end of her blow job is certainly NOT me! I have a beard! I leaned back in my chair too stunned to move, my mind a muddled mess, feeling my world crashing all around me. I'm not going to admit to crying but I may have, just a little. I'm not sure how long I sat there but eventually I came back to the world of the living, my life flashing before my eyes. Wait! I thought that was only supposed to happen just before you died. Maybe I did just die and my body hasn't figured out it's supposed to fall to the floor. My childhood zipped by, and my teen years, and my four years in college, all moving in super fast forward. When my timeline came up to the first time I ever saw Reese things started moving in real time again. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Tall, blond, with legs that would put a Broadway dancer to shame, and a face that could, as the saying goes, launch a thousand ships. But the absolute best feature was her smile. The minute she smiled at me I became frozen in place. I couldn't move, I couldn't take what she was holding out for me to take, and I couldn't make a coherent word come out of my mouth. "Uh.... Yeah... okay... Um... Oh..." Classy pick-up line if there ever was one. Reese was standing in the middle of the Anaheim Convention Center wearing what could only be described as a skimpy little outfit handing out samples of someone's new product to anybody who passed by. Me included. I fumbled with whatever she handed me, put it in my pocket, and just stood there staring at her as she went to the next person, and the next, and the next. As she walked down the aisle doing her handing-out job, she kept glancing back at me and smiling. On the third or fourth time looking back she covered her mouth and laughed out loud. I must have looked like the jackass of the century because she had to come back and guide me to the side of the aisle. "I didn't want you to get trampled," she said smiling into my heart, her eyes twinkling with each word. "I, uh, thanks," was all I could get out. "Hi, my name is Reese and I'm from the L.T. and T. Technology booth just over there," she said pointing to one corner of the convention center floor. "If I had to bet I'd say you have no idea what I just gave you. I don't even think you looked at it. You seem to be dazed. I do hope I was the cause of that." "Uh, I'm sorry," is all I could come up with at first. I just looked at her big blue eyes and saw my, no our future as clearly as anything I've ever seen in my life. Then my mind and mouth started to come back to me. "Uh, you just gave me L. T. and T's latest 16-terabyte flash drive cleverly hidden in a Mylar wrist band, silver and black I think it was, with the Oakland Raider's logo embossed on the top. " Her eyes got even wider and she put her hand on mine. "I'm impressed," she said smiling. "Most men don't see past the blond hair and big boobs, but you saw our company's little gimmick flash drive. I was going to ask you if we could walk over to our booth so you can order some more for your company, they make great little gifts you know, and they're only $69.95, but I don't think you're in any condition to talk about flash drives. I couldn't help noticing that your eyes haven't left mine since we met in the aisle. Would you like to go somewhere and get a cup of coffee or a soda of something? I'm due for my break about now." "More than anything in this world," was my ultra clever reply. We drank our coffee and talked. I found out that Reese did product endorsement modeling to earn money so she could take evening classes working toward her real estate license. The product endorsement modeling consisted of looking beautiful and wearing as little clothes as allowable holding up or pointing to the products in question, sort of like Vanna White except in skimpy outfits. Any red-blooded man with more than two working brain cells would turn to look at whatever she was pointing at. She had a natural beauty and animal magnetism that turned heads, whether they wanted to or not. As I listened to her talk my mind drifted to checking out the woman sitting across from me. Physically Reese was a typical California beauty; tall, blond, blue-eyed, bronze tan, with long, very long legs, absolutely amazing breasts, oh, and let's not forget that absolutely amazing ass. The word callipygian says it all. WOW! But what you couldn't see, and what I got to discover sometime later was that what she possessed on the inside of that incredible body made the total package called Reese that much more intoxicating. She had a brain and knew how to use it. She had a dry wit and could hold her own in any conversation. And she had an infectious passion for life. We started with coffee at the convention center lunch room and were so engrossed in talking about who we were that we lost all track of the time. During lunch her handler from L. T. and T. came by and they got into a heated discussion about why she wasn't walking around the convention floor flashing her boobs and passing out trinkets. Either the guy from L. T. and T. fired her or she quit, I couldn't figure out which, but we ended up spending the rest of the day talking and getting to know one another. She said losing the gig at the Small Consumer Electronics Convention and Show was no big deal for her, but meeting me was. I'm not sure if I believe in love at first sight but meeting Reese is pushing me toward a reevaluation of my position. We went to dinner at a local restaurant and talked until late in the evening. Afterwards I walked her to her car and she gave me her phone number. I didn't wait the obligatory three days to call I called the next day to set up a date for the following weekend. That led to another date, then another and another. Three months later she moved in with me making me the happiest man in the world, and judging by the constant smile on her beautiful face she was pretty happy too. As we got to know each other we found we had a lot in common: We loved the same kind of music, drinks, and cars, hated the same foods, movies, and people, and tolerated the ever-present government crap, to a point. She helped me see things in the world that I never thought to look at before. She guided me toward a better wardrobe and hair style. We ate different and healthier foods. We even started jogging together. Now I'm getting my fair share of women turning their heads to look at me. Oh, men are always stopping to look at her but now she's got some serious competition, with women looking at me that is, not men. But Reese also has a fault, albeit minor. She's a bit of a flirt. She had no idea what she does or the affect it has on the people around her. It was an unconscious, natural part of who she was, but at the same time to me it was worrisome. She could draw men to her like flies to excrement with just a little smile or a sideways glance or even the way she stood. It wasn't something she was even conscious of, she just did it and men fell all over themselves. I learned very early on in our relationship that she needed someone to watch over her, for her own good as well as for the sanity of those around her. I willingly became Reese's safeguard. All in all when Reese was beside me I became a better man. We also found that we were both on the same wavelength sexually. We each had a number of relationships before we met but felt that the past was the past and whatever happened prior to our meeting was nothing we needed to worry about. Oh we talked about my past girlfriends and her boyfriends and what we did but we knew without having to say it out loud that none of them mattered any more. I do know that we were both experienced lovers even though I showed her some new tricks she added a few of her own to our repertoire. Sex was way beyond fantastic. Sometimes we made love for hours. We would tenderly caress each other's bodies, lovingly kiss and stroke every inch and every pore, to gently guide the other up to heaven for their release and back to earth again for their rest. It was like an elaborate symphony of senses and emotions: Gradual con amore (with love and tenderness) crescendo to a fortissimo (very loud) dramatic announcement with a calando (falling away, getting slower and quieter) peaceful ending. But occasionally we would mercilessly fuck each other's brains out, sometimes getting so vocal and tumultuous that we were constantly on the verge of having the bed cave in, crashing through the floor, and depositing our tangled, naked bodies in the basement. I loved Reese with every fiber of my soul and felt every bit of the love she had for me. Three months after we moved in together three life-changing events occurred. First, Reese completed her class work and received her real estate license. Second, the largest real estate office in the tri-county area offered her a job. Third, I asked her to marry me. That was four years ago. Now everything was a mess. I had photographic evidence that the love of my life was doing with some other man something that I thought she only did with me. So what do I do? A dozen scenarios floated through my mind, most of which originated in idealized situations in fiction books and erotic story websites, some seemed reasonable, most seemed crazy or at the very least dangerous, everything from a scorched-earth Rambo solution to not saying anything and turning a blind eye. I didn't like any of them. I'm not John Rambo and I'm not a sissy. And I also try everything I can to avoid a confrontation whenever I find myself approaching one. The one thing I did know was I had to know the five W's - who, what, where, when and most importantly why before I did whatever I was going to do. "Honey, I'm home," Reese yelled as she walked in from the garage. "Brian, where are you?" "I'm in the office," I yelled back. Quickly I put the traffic ticket in my top desk drawer and sat back looking as casual as I could. "Hey babe, how was your day?" Reese asked coming into the room. She walked over behind the desk and sat her lovely ass in my lap, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me one of her famous toe-curling kisses. My toes curled, as usual, but for some reason so did my stomach. I tried to not let on in any way but she was always too smart for me. "Honey, what's wrong?" She asked looked into my eyes, concerned. I tried to keep a straight face and lied to her when I said, "Nothing, just a long day," but she saw through that too. "What'd I do now?" she asked. Now her beautiful face looked worried. I gently pushed her off my lap and stood up. "Nothing, I just had a long day and some bad news at work and don't feel very good. I think I'll skip dinner and just lie down for a while." "Oh good," she said following me to the bedroom. "I thought you might have found out about my boyfriends." I stopped in the hallway so suddenly she crashed into my back. When I turned around she was rubbing her nose. I glared at her and said, "What did you say?" "It was a joke babe, something to lighten the mood." "Well, it's not very damn funny." "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I don't have any boyfriends, other than you that is." "You'd better not have. I don't know what I'd do if I caught you giving some guy a blowjob in the front seat of your car, probably kill the both of you." There was a bit of a pause before she replied. "Uh, I assume you're talking metaphorically?" "Don't be so sure. Why? Is there anything you want to tell me?" "Uh, no, I'm just worried about the turn of this conversation. Why are you so upset all of a sudden? Is there's something I did, or didn't do, that's upsetting you? If so I wish you'd just tell me." I turned and headed back to the bedroom. Reese followed. She stood in the doorway and watched as I undressed and got into bed. She never said a word. "Babe, I hope you're feeling better tomorrow because I'm showing the Harper house down at the beach in the morning and if I come away with a contract we'll have a lot to celebrate with the commission that place is going to give me. Maybe we can even go away for a quiet weekend, just the two of us. How about we go back to that little hacienda hideaway in Monterey? Remember how romantic it was?" "Um, maybe. We'll see." I mumbled as I turned over in the bed. I don't know how long she stood there looking at my back but it must have been more than a few minutes before I heard her walking down the hall back toward the kitchen. For the next three hours I lay there thinking about what I was going to do about Reese and about what I found out. About the time she came to bed I knew what was going to happen. Right or wrong I was going to do something and if the shit hit the fan then so be it. It was my plan and my solution and if it went wrong then there was no one to blame but me. She tried to spoon up next to me and put her arm over my shoulder but I just scooted closer to the side of the bed and ignored her. The occasional sob in the night told me what she was feeling. Instead of going to work the next day I called in sick and went looking for the house Reese was going to show that morning. I went looking for a sign or something but saw nothing in the area where I thought it should be and then had to refer to the MLS on my phone to find the address. When I finally found the house I drove past it and parked around the corner, out of sight. I walked to a small grove of trees across the street and in front of the house waiting for her to show up. An hour later her Prius showed up and pulled into the driveway. Shortly afterwards a big black Mercedes pulled in behind her and an older gentleman got out. They talked for a few minutes in the driveway and then went in the front door. I watched from my hiding place for about ten minutes before walking over to the house and up the side to the beach front side, a lush growth of palm trees concealing me from prying eyes. I slid in under the rear deck and could hear them talking on the deck above. Every word I heard had to do with the house and the beach and the price, in other words nothing out of the ordinary for a real estate agent and client. I stayed out of sight under the deck listening to them talk for the longest time before either of them said anything out of the ordinary. The older gentleman said to Reese, "So is what Finley said about you true? With every signed contract you'll give a little something on the side to the buyer?" Those Damn Traffic Light Cameras Reese laughed. "That depends entirely on my commission. If it's big enough you might get a little something. It depends." "What about this place?" he asked. "There will be a very nice reward for both me and the buyer of this house. Let's just go check out the bedrooms and we can discuss my little something after I have your signature on the contract." I heard their footsteps above, the sliding glass door closing, and the lock clicking. I peered over the top of the deck to make sure they were gone and wouldn't see me as I walked behind the house. I looked in one window and saw a bathroom and another and found an empty bedroom. Looking into another window around the far side of the house I saw Reese and the gentleman standing in the room talking. I couldn't hear what they were saying but did notice that he was standing very close to her. I saw his hand come up behind her and rub her back and down to her bottom. I immediately wanted to run inside and break his arm but I didn't have to, Reese pushed his hand away and with an expression I've seen many times before gave him some very harsh words. He backed away and Reese stormed out of the room. I looked around the corner to the front of the house and saw Reese come back out and stand beside her car. The man came out and over to her a few seconds later. "I apologize for becoming a little forward in there a moment ago," the man said. "I just couldn't resist a beautiful woman like you. You make my third wife look dull and unattractive in comparison, and she's a former Miss California. I like the house and it would be a perfect private retreat for me. I'll sign the contract at the asking price if you agree to come visit me after I've moved in for a little personal reward time." "Well, I don't see what harm a little visit would cause, after you've moved in of course." "Great, now how about that little special something for today?" Reese just smiled, reached into her briefcase and pulled out some papers and held them out to him. "Hummm, sign the contract and I'll give you a little something now and something more when I come to visit. How does that sound?" "I can't wait," he said reaching for the papers. Right on the hood of his Mercedes he signed the contract that would make the Harper beachfront house his while Reese stood beside him smiling and pointing to all the places he had to sign. When he was done Reese put the papers back into her briefcase, put it on the front seat of her Prius, and went over to the passenger side of his Mercedes. The man pressed the key fob and unlocked the car with a beep. Reese slid in and sat in the passenger seat while he got in the driver's side. He started the car and immediately I became totally panicked that they were going to drive away, but instead he turned on the air conditioning and put his arm on the seat behind Reese's head and relaxed. That's when it happened. Reese's head disappeared below the dashboard, between the steering wheel and the man sitting there. From where I stood I couldn't see anything. All at once the man laid his head back on his seat's headrest and a silly little smile appeared. I'd seen that smile before, on the traffic ticket. Then the top of Reese's blond head came up above the dashboard and then disappeared down again. Before it bobbed up and down again I started walking. Quietly I walked between the palm trees keeping one or another of them between the driver's side door and myself. It took only a few seconds to get up next to the car and look in the window. My lovely wife's face was in the man's lap and his pants were down around his knees. Her head was moving slowly up and down sucking his cock and her right hand was playing with his balls. I'm glad I couldn't see her face from where I was standing but I knew what it looked like when she sucked on me. Her head bobbing sped up at the exact time I rapped on the driver's window. The old man's head snapped around and looked at me and Reese yanked her head off his cock and saw me standing there too. "What the fuck are you doing you pervert," he yelled at me. "Get off my property before I call the police." Reese sat back up when she saw me and put her hands over her mouth. "Come on lady, finish the job," he yelled at her and reached for her head to pull her back down into his lap. She slapped his hand and got out of the car. Standing on the other side of the Mercedes with tears streaming down her face, she said the words that I expected, "God I'm sorry Brian." Then she ran to her car, got in, and sped off, or as much speeding off as a Toyota Prius can do. The guy in the Mercedes was still screaming at me and punching the buttons on his phone as I walked back to my car and drove home. I had no idea what to expect when I got there. The first part of my plan was over with, I confronted Reese in the act and got everything out in the open. Now I had to go home and assess how much of a marriage I had left, if any. Each time I drove through an intersection with one of those damn traffic light cameras I became angry at the government for creating something so diabolical, so insidious, that a stupidly simple mechanical device was the instrument of destruction of my marriage. And I gave each and every one of them the finger as I drove past. Reese's car wasn't in the driveway or the garage when I got home. There was no evidence that she had been there since going to work this morning. I had no recourse but to sit and wait. I thought about waiting with a drink in my hand but booze isn't my style. I sipped on a bottle of water instead. It was long after dark that I realized she wasn't coming home. Confronting her at the beach house must have been too much and she was gone for good. I turned off the lights and slipped into bed. I hate to admit it but this time I did cry a little. She wasn't home when I got up in the morning and again I called into work, but this time I talked to my boss and took off a week with 'family problems.' Around noon I called her office and they said she didn't show up for work. I called her sister and two of her best friends and they all said they hadn't heard from her. I had no choice but to sit home and wait. But wait for what? While waiting I did all the normal stuff to protect my assets as best I could just in case the worst happened. When I got home I sat in front of the TV and waited some more, the TV not even turned on. This time I had a beer. It tasted stale, I guess because of all the bile in my mouth. Again that night I went to bed alone. Sometime during the night I heard a noise downstairs. I walked around the house to try to find out what it was but found nothing obvious so I sat in the living room to wait for it to happen again, but it didn't. That's where I found myself in the morning when I woke up, curled up on the couch. And when my eyes opened I saw Reese sitting balled up in the chair on the other side of the coffee table. She was awake staring at me but looked absolutely awful. Her eyes were puffy and black from the ruined mascara smeared all over her cheeks. She had attempted to pull her beautiful blond hair into a pony tail behind her head but it was obvious it was all tangled and knotted. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained with something, tears, coffee, water, something. As I sat up I noticed that she was twisting her wedding ring around and around in her finger. "I've got to go to the bathroom," I mumbled before leaving the room. When I got back she wasn't in the chair, she had gone into the kitchen and was making coffee. "I've got to clean myself up too," she said. "I slept in my car and I'm a mess, then I'll make us something to eat. You look like you haven't eaten in days. Then we can talk." I didn't argue with her. I just sat at the kitchen table and watched her. We both ate the first civilized meal in two days without uttering a single word. Reese started. "I'm sorry you saw that, hell, I'm sorry I did that. I have no excuse for what I did, well, kind of but nothing that's going to change anything. I was more wrong than I've ever been in my life, no our lives, and it all came crashing down around our ears yesterday, or was that the day before. I forget. Anyway, what I did was wrong and it was all my fault. You did nothing to cause it. It's not because of you, it's because of me." She reached for a napkin and crushed it to her eyes and started sobbing. I just sat and waited for her to finish. A few minutes later she looked out from behind the napkin and asked, "Do you want to say anything, ask me any questions?" I thought about it for a long time before talking. "I have several questions but don't know if I can trust what you say. It's obvious you've been lying to me about your activities at work so I don't know if any questions I'll ask will be answered truthfully or..." She interrupted, "Yes, oh God yes I'll tell you the truth. Ask me anything. No matter how hard it is I'll answer everything truthfully. I need this to be out in the open. Please, trust me." "Okay, I'll give you one and only one chance. Lie to me one time and we're finished. And you have no idea how much I already know." I was bluffing because I didn't know anything more than the traffic citation and the man in the Mercedes. "First, you've done this before obviously, what have you been doing and for how long?" Reese took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "What you saw yesterday was as far as I've ever gone. Yes, I've done it before, several times as a matter of fact. It started about three months ago when my boss at work Mr. Finley asked me if I'd like to make a jump in my commissions. I'd been working in selling some of the more mundane, low-end listings and my sales commissions were minimal at best. He offered me the possibility of working the more high-end listings if I joined several of the other women agents in the office in offering, um, special incentives to sign contracts. You saw one of the special incentives yesterday..." It was my turn to interrupt her. "But I heard you offer more at a later date too." "Oh God, you heard that? I did offer and it would have been the first time I'd done anything like that. Some of the women in the office will have sex with the clients when they sell one of the high-end properties but any time someone buys anything they give them a blowjob. Since I've only been working on the low-end listings my special incentives were, oh God help me, were blowjobs. Mister Cramer, the guy I sold the Harper house to yesterday, would have been my first time doing anything more than a blowjob and believe me I was scared shitless. "Since I've started offering the special incentives my commissions have gone way up. From selling the Harper house my yearly commission will more than double. Some of the women in the office make high six-figure commissions. I don't do anything like what they do but I guess I was starting to head in that direction. I'm sorry. I let the specter of big money lure me into something. I really didn't think about what I was getting myself in to. I didn't start out like this but what you saw the other day was what I've been doing for the last few months every time I made a sale." "And you never thought of us while you were giving your special incentives? How about diseases? Did you ever think about that?" "God Brian, I always thought about us when I was... After I... Aw shit, I always felt guilty as hell while doing it and even more afterwards, the first couple times I had to go somewhere afterwards and cry myself out. I guess I was getting used to being a whore and didn't feel as bad about it after the first couple times. God, I'm awful! "I loved the money and the power it gave me and it was nice to flirt with men again, I haven't done that since I stopped modeling, but I hated what it was doing to me, to us, to our relationship, even if you didn't know what was going on. Even though I tried to never be any different around you or treat you any differently at home I knew it was wrong and in the end I was hurting you. Several times I thought about quitting the agency altogether, one time I even talked to Mr. Finley about quitting, but he reminded me that I wouldn't find money like I was making anywhere else. I just kept working and trying to find a way out. Now I guess I've found one. "As for diseases, I didn't worry about it too much because everyone I did business with was pretty low-risk. But one of the other women who did this suggested I do a background check on the clients before hand and if there was ever a question I could make them wear a condom. And before you ask, yes I did swallow, but I never once brought anything home for you, I cleaned up before coming home, if that means anything to you now." "Yeah, thanks a lot. My wife services God knows how many men every day and comes home to me to act like the hard-working loving wife who never denied her husband the sex that we owed each other anyway. Thanks a whole hell of a lot." "No Brian, I didn't do it every day. It wasn't any more than once every other week or so, a couple weeks two. I wasn't doing it every day." "Great, so that means if you've been doing it for, let's say three months, every other week, that's six or more blowjobs since you started your program of special incentives. Fan-fucking-tastic! And soon you were going to start spreading your legs for clients. For all that I've got to be thankful?" "Well... I... Uh, I never counted how many times I did it. After each one I just pushed it out of my mind. Shit, I guess I am a whore!' "No argument from me there." We both sat quietly for a while thinking about everything. I'm pretty sure nothing was resolved yet. "Brian, can I ask you a question?" Reese said in a quiet, mouse-like voice. "Sure, ask me anything. No matter how hard it is I'll answer everything truthfully." "You don't have to throw my words back in my face. I know I screwed up big time but I want to try to figure out where we go from here. What I want to ask is how did you find out?" I gave her a little devilish grin and went into the office and got the traffic citation. I handed it to her and sat back down. When she looked at the citation she put her hand over her mouth and exclaimed, "Oh my God!" "You can thank the fucking U.S. Postal Service and the Orange County Police Department for outing you. I guess you'll never pass one of those damned traffic light cameras again without thinking about this. Just hope your citation picture doesn't end up on the internet somewhere courtesy of some pervert government official." "I'm so, so sorry Brian. I had no idea." "Oh, and you ought to get your client to pay the $381 ticket. I'm sure as hell not going to pay it." "I'll take care of it," she said softly. We both went into our thoughts again. I couldn't tell what she was thinking but for me I was considering all of the possible futures from this point in time. Some were going to be very difficult for me and others impossible. The one thing I still hadn't decided on was whether to file for divorce or not. I had absolute proof of adultery even though adultery was no longer grounds for a favorable divorce settlement. Thanks to our loving government officials again, dissolving a marriage is like canceling a cable box. Fill out the form, return the equipment, and go on your merry way. Besides, I still loved her more than anything in the world. "Brian, what are you thinking?" "Frankly, I was just thinking what my life would be like after our divorce." "God no, please don't say that even if you are thinking it. I don't want you to divorce me. I want to remain your wife and try to fix this mess. I'll do anything you want, absolutely anything, just tell me what you want and I'll do it. Just don't kick me out. Please." "I said I was thinking what my life would be like without you, I didn't say I had started the process or even decided to. But it's on my list of possibilities though." She pulled her knees up to her chest and started rocking back in forth in the chair mumbling, "Oh God no! Oh God no! Oh God no!" I got up and got her a wet washcloth and another bottle of water. As I looked down at her I saw a beaten and broken woman. Beaten down by greed and the image of big piles of money, broken by her whorish actions and what they did to us. I didn't know how to make it all right. "Reese, you've always been a bit of a flirt but this time you've gone too far. I wasn't there to protect you from the wolves and you didn't let me know what your boss offered. If you had I'd probably have broken several bones in his face. Now it's too late. The deed is done. You say you haven't fucked anybody yet and you've only given several men blowjobs but to me that still amounts to betrayal. Some believe that a blowjob is not sex and therefore doesn't constitute adultery but I'm not one of them. You betrayed our marriage, our love, and put something in your mouth that wasn't mine and you planned to do even more. I don't know if I can forgive that. I can't think right now, there's just too many confusing thoughts running around in my head. I need time to think. "Reese, I think we need to be apart for a while and think about what's happened and where we should go from here. I'll pack a couple bags and move in with my parents for a few days..." "NO! I was the one that screwed up so I should be the one that leaves. I'll get some things together and go to my sister's. You can call me there when you want to talk to me again. I'll be sitting by the phone waiting for your call." With those final words she got up and went up to the bedroom while I cleaned up the kitchen. I heard sobbing coming from upstairs while she packed. Eventually she came back down with two suitcases and a couple over-the-shoulder canvas bags. "Brian, I love you more than anything in the world and don't want to lose you. I know I screwed up and I'm truly sorry. I'll apologize every day from now on or do whatever you say to make it right between us. So with that said, I'll be waiting at my sister's to hear what you want to do. I already know what I want. Please don't wait too long to call, I don't think I could make it very long without you." And with that she walked out the door. As seen through Reese's eyes Three weeks. Three damn weeks and not a word. I'm going crazy here. I half expected Brian to call by now and tell me he was divorcing me but he hasn't. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, the long wait that is, but my hopes and prayers are telling me it's a good thing. Maybe he's just trying to come to terms with my stupidity and figuring out what our life will be like once we're back together. God, I hope so. But not knowing has me on edge so much that my sister can hardly be in the same room with me. If she has to do something near where I'm sitting then she makes quick work of it and disappears back into the kitchen. I think the tension is creating hard feelings between her and my brother too. Three weeks of sheer agony and I don't know anything about anything. Right after I moved in with sis I called Finley and told him where to stick his damn job. I warned him that if he didn't give me a fantastic recommendation that I'd let his little 'special incentive' scheme out of the bag. I was pretty mad when I said, "What would happen if it got out that you required your agents to consummate deals with a little bedroom play? I don't think you'd be in business very long. I do know the state board of ethics would take a dim view of your shit and every woman working there would be branded a whore, just like me, even if they never did anything wrong." So no, he had no choice but to buy my silence by agreeing to a glowing recommendation. That also meant I was unemployed and sponging off of my sister and her husband. Frankly I don't know how much longer they're going to put up with me. I've got to start looking for another job, especially if I'm going to be living alone from now on. Those Damn Traffic Light Cameras For three weeks I've been trying to figure out what motivated me to do something so monumentally stupid. The only conclusion I could come to is that there were a number of temptations luring me off the cliff. First, and probably foremost, was I've always been a big flirt. I know that, Brian doesn't have to remind me, I've always been like that. After college I did product endorsement modeling because it was easy for me. I was attractive and I always liked to interact with people so making customers look at whatever product the vendor was hawking was easy money. I liked having people look at me, I liked flirting with them, and I know they liked seeing me in those skimpy outfits. I always thought it was a win-win situation. When I married Brian he always warned me when I got too flirty and was getting in over my head. He was my protector and without him to protect me I guess I went too far. Another temptation was the money. I looked at the other women who screwed their clients after getting the contract signed and saw that they drove fancy cars and wore expensive designer dresses and had nice houses and even went on expensive vacations to exotic places. I dressed nicely and drove a nice car but they had just seemed to have so much more than I did. What I didn't see at the time was that they didn't have husbands or families. They had everything money could buy but they didn't have someone to love them and to hold them at night. I had Brian. He loved me and I loved him. Now I may not have him any more. I even thought that my boss at the agency may have dangled the temptation of extra commissions by working on the high-end listings in front of me because he saw that I was just as attractive as the other women and could entice sales just as easily as they did. He probably hired me on my looks and not my talent knowing that one day the low-end listings would get me nowhere and then he could offer me the high-end ones if I had sex with the clients. He knew what he was doing. He manipulated me perfectly and I swallowed his bullshit hook, line, and sinker. He didn't even give a shit that I was married. My God what a hole I've dug. After all the men I've ever known I finally find the one man who I was so completely in tune with and the one I was so completely in love with and what did I do? I turned on him like a rabid dog. How can I ever make it right? How can we get past our pain? How can I get Brian to love me again? And how in the hell will I be able to live with myself if he kicks me out? Flirty, greedy, attractive, gullible, and stupid as hell. Yeah, that would make me a perfect corporate whore. "GODDAMNED STUPID BITCH!" I screamed in frustration. I'd been doing more and more of that lately, spontaneous outbursts, usually swearing at what I did. "Did you say something?" My sister stuck her head in the den with her usually worried look asking for the thousandth time if I was in my right mind. "Just the usual shit sis," I murmured looking out the window at nothing. "Stupid, stupid me! Why don't you just shoot me and put me out of my misery?" "The thought has crossed my mind so don't tempt me. But before I do that, Reese do me a favor, keep the language down a bit. The kids just got home and I don't want them hearing your highly colorful language. They already think you're completely bonkers, and for that matter so do I. How could you be so stupid as to play around on Brian? He's the best thing that ever happened to you and you screwed it up royally. That man is the nicest, most caring man I've ever known, outside of my own that is, and if I didn't already have a good man of my own Brian would be on the top of my wish list. That's a fact! You need to talk to him girl. You need to do whatever it takes to get him to forgive you, if that's even possible at this point. You should crawl naked over a mile of broken glass to get him to take you back." I knew she was absolutely one hundred percent correct, as usual, but I didn't have a clue where to start. "Thanks sis," I said quietly. "I'm working on it. As soon as I know what to do you'll be the first to know." "Well just come to some decision pretty soon will 'ya? Mys are coming to stay for a week next month and we're going to need the guest bedroom for them, so yes if I have to I'll move your stuff to the basement and you can sleep next to the furnace. So just do something soon, okay? Oh, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour." "Thanks sis. I always could count on you for support in my darkest hour." When she left I did what I've done every day for the last week, I picked up the phone and dial home. For the 7th time in a row Brian didn't answer, the answering machine kicked in with my voice saying, "You've reached the Robbins' residence. No one can come to the phone right now so please leave a message after the beep. And please make it short. Bye!" "Brian, please call me," I said with a whimper. "I need to hear your voice. We've got to talk. Please don't leave me hanging out here like this, I'm dying here, and I know I deserve it but it still hurts like hell. If what you're feeling right now is half as bad as what I feel then... then... I'm sorry for hurting you this way. Please call me. I love you." I've left a similar message each time I called and he hasn't responded once. I know he's still alive because I've sat in my car down the street and watched as he went to work in the morning and I've been there when he came home in the evening. So I know he's ignoring my messages. Over the last couple weeks I thought what I would feel and do if the shoe was on the other foot. I'd be devastated that's for sure. That's what he's feeling right now. But I've got to do something soon or I'll lose him. I've got to get him back. I've got to fight for the man I love. I've got to fight for my marriage. I've also got to get some serious psychiatric help when this is all over. Sis is right. I must be the craziest woman on the face of the earth to do something like that to him. I did what I've done every day for the last three weeks; I let the crushing weight of my life grind me into the depths of despair and collapsed onto the couch sobbing into my arms. After dinner I was again sitting in the den, in the chair by the window, looking out at the kids playing in the backyard, thinking about what I could do to get Brian's attention. I needed to do something to get him to open up and to talk to me, something dramatic. I've thought about and discarded a bunch of the obvious and absolutely asinine possibilities like a car accident, trying to make him jealous by going out on a date, a feigned suicide attempt, or just storming into his office at work and screaming and begging until he called security. My fallback position was the direct approach, just pack my bags and move back home. But I keep thinking what if I don't have a home anymore? What if he's made his decision and I'm not welcomed back? What if... And all of the 'what if's' were driving me crazy. I had to know, one way or the other if I still had a marriage, and in turn a life. But if Brian wouldn't return my calls then we couldn't talk and if we couldn't talk we couldn't work this out and if we couldn't work this out... "SHIT!" I said out loud to the empty room. "I guess I'd better start looking for a place to live," I said to myself ready to give up everything. I went to my purse to get my BlackBerry phone to start browsing the rental market for a small, cheap place to live and that's when I saw the traffic citation that I promised to pay, the one that very clearly shows me leaning over the console of my car with my mouth around that buyer's cock. What was his name again? I had no clue. Shit, it was all so meaningless that I can't even remember his name. Aren't street whores like that, one John after the other, faceless men getting their rocks off in the whore's mouths? "Yep, that's me. I'm a whore." Finley agreed to pay for my ticket the last time I talked to him, no when I screamed at him over the phone. He said he'd put the amount in my final check under commission, and he did, but I haven't sent the check to the Orange County Police Department yet. I pulled out my checkbook and started writing the check when a strange idea pushed aside my grief and sat down in the middle of my consciousness. "It's possible," I said with the beginnings of a smile. "Why not? If those damn traffic light cameras were what outed me in the first place why can't I use them for my own purposes, something positive for a change?" My smile was a lot bigger now. I strode into the kitchen barking at my sister, "Hey, do the kids have some poster paper and magic markers?" She saw my smile and gave me one of her own in return. Now all I had to do was do it. I stopped leaving daily messages on our answering machine for Brian. I stopped stalking him and watching him come and go from the house. I even stopped trying to think up weird ways of getting him to talk to me. I already found one and had to let everything take its course to see if it worked. It must have. Three days later Brian's car pulled up in the driveway AND HE'S IN IT! I started running around the house screaming at my sister and jumping up and down. "Sis, he's here! He's here! He's really here! Oh God what am I going to do. Maybe I should go put on a nice dress? Maybe put on makeup? How do I look? What do I do? Do I..." "Shut up for a change Reese," my sister said grabbing me by the arm as I ran by. "Let me answer the door and I'll get him into the living room. You can come in and bring him something to drink. I'll take the kids out in the back yard and you two can talk in private. Just calm down for crying out loud!" Sis answered the door and I could hear voices off in the distance but couldn't make out too many of their words. From where I stood in the kitchen pouring a couple sodas I could hear Brian's voice as he thanked my sister for putting up with me. That had to be a good sign, right? He was making a joke. At least I think it was a joke? Maybe it wasn't a joke? Maybe he was preparing her for a long term house guest? Maybe... Oh Shit! My sister returned and whispered, "Reese, calm down and try not to spill the sodas on our new carpet when you go in there. I just want to warn you that he wasn't smiling when he came in although he did give me a hug, and oh what a nice hug it was. He seemed to be pretty sad. Now get your ass in there and do whatever you have to do to get your husband back. I'll be out back if you need reinforcements." I checked my face in the reflection in the window, straightened my blouse and pants, picked up the sodas, took a deep breath, and went to meet my fate. The love of my life was sitting on the couch when I entered and as I approached my heart started racing. "Hi Brian. I'm glad to see you. I missed you. Oh, here's a soda. Is it okay to talk here? We can go into the den if you want. You came to talk, right? Sis said you gave her a hug. God I missed you. Oh wait I said that already. You want something to eat? I can fix a snack or get some cookies or..." "Reese, calm down," Brian said interrupting. His face now had the beginnings of a smile. I put the sodas on the coffee table, not spilling a drop, and sat next to him on the couch. I reached over and took his hand in mine and pulled it to my lips. The touch of his hand broke the dam and the tears that I thought I had all cried out were again flowing with a vengeance. I fell onto his shoulder and cried as he sat there with his arms around me quietly stroking my hair. Running the back of my hand under my nose and then wiping away the tears on my cheeks, I sat up and looked up into his eyes for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He was just as beautiful as I'd remembered. "I got your message," he said smiling. "And...?" "I'm here. But it's going to cost you." "What? Why? I don't understand." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. "Oh God no!" I lamented. "This isn't what I think it is, is it? Please don't do it this way. Don't serve me like this. I'm more sorry..." "Reese, shut up. Here open this and look at it." With a shaky hand I took the envelope and saw that he'd already opened it. Then I remembered what I had done. When I took out the single sheet of paper and unfolded it I saw a Notice of Traffic Violation from the Orange County Police Department. I knew exactly what it was and I started smiling from ear to ear, if that's even physically possible. Beneath the descriptions of the violation I saw several pictures of me going through another of those damned traffic light cameras, this time on purpose. The close-up picture of the front of the car clearly showed my face behind the steering wheel looking up at the camera with an expression that could only be interpreted as pleading. Beside me, taped to the windshield was a large handwritten sign with two lines of words saying, "BRIAN FORGIVE ME, PLEASE CALL". The photo of the back of the car showed another sign completely covering the rear windshield with three little words "I LOVE YOU!" Each letter O was in the shape of a heart. My heart smiled. When I looked up into his eyes again he said, "I got your message but it's going to cost you another $381 dollars for the fine to get me to meet you half-way. Was it worth it?" With the biggest smile I could muster I said, "Absolutely, every penny of it."