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Cat in the Rain

By: dtiverson



I love writing exercises. Yesterday I posted an anti-loving wives story. Today's is a normal LW tale. I am interested in your reaction to the two. The title is another Hemingway short story. It hints at the outcome - enjoy – DT

*****

The Rising Storm

There are lots of ways a guy can find out that his wife is cheating. 

There's the ever popular, "unexpected arrival home". Then there's the tried and true, "a friend clued me in." And of course there's the time tested, "overheard a conversation." 

Me? I was tipped-off by The Washington Post. 

That might seem a bit bizarre. But most guys aren't married to a woman who is fucking a U.S. Senator. 

Personally - I work in the private intelligence business. We do the same kind of thing that the alphabet agencies do. But it pays ten times better. 

I started out as a 35-lima with the 704th Military Intelligence Brigade at Fort Meade. Military Intelligence might sound like an oxymoron. But my unit was headquartered at the same Fort as the NSA. So I took part in some serious technological shit. 

I was just a 23 year old kid - fresh out of Carnegie-Mellon and the 97-bravo course at Fort Huachuca. 

Needless to say I was totally full of myself. I had a badge to go with the title "Special Agent." But I was really just a Rot-C nerd from the little city of Madison, Wisconsin. 

Madison might be the State Capitol and it might have a big university in the middle. But you don't have to drive very far out of town to be hip deep in cow shit. 

So the Beltway culture was both a target-rich environment and kind of overwhelming for a Wisconsin farm boy.

I hung around with another shavetail. He was named Art. Both of us liked to drink and party and there was always a lot of that going on in the student ghettos around the University of Maryland. 

Nonetheless we favored the Fells Point section of Baltimore. First of all, it was a lot easier to get back to our off-base quarters, which were in Glen Burnie. And there was nothing to match the perpetual party atmosphere of the Broadway Square area. 

One night I was sitting with Art in "The Horse You Came In On Saloon". How can you NOT patronize a place that advertises that it has been "serving drinks since the 18th Century?" 

We both had a little buzz on. But it was nothing like we were planning for later that night.

We were scoping out a table full of girls. There is nothing like a covey of visibly blasted chicks to attract the predators. And the wolves were beginning to gather. 

As I watched a few of the women were dragged off to dance. It was clear that everybody was in a happy-place. That is until one of the more obviously wasted dudes decided to cut-out a woman who was not interested in dancing.

There was some pulling and a little yelling followed by a shriek and a loud slap. 

As the fracas started I nodded an "I got this" to Art and wandered over toward the table. The slapee was about to do something really stupid when I grabbed his upraised arm. 

I said in the calmest voice I could muster, "You need to leave, Sir." 

He was pissed and clearly not in the mood. So he spun violently to confront me. I just continued his momentum, do-si-doing him around until his arm was twisted up between his shoulder blades. 

I showed him the badge, which I was holding in my left hand. I wanted to encourage him to reason with me. 

He gazed at it blearily and muttered, "But she hit me Officer."

I said, continuing the cop tone of voice, "No harm - no foul, Sir. You've ALL had a little too much to drink. Why don't you and your friends just find some other place to do it?" 

He looked at the rest of his crew. They shrugged and started toward the door. I released his arm and he staggered after them. 

Fortunately none of them had gotten around to noticing that the badge was issued to an Army Counter-Intelligence Special Agent, not a Baltimore cop. I had the jurisdiction to arrest him if he was involved in High Treason. But at "The Horse" it was just a piece of tin. 

The woman still looked shaken. Physical confrontation does that to people. I sat down in the empty chair next to her and said, "Are you okay? Can I get you something?" 

That was the first time I actually looked at her. I could see why the college dude had been so insistent.

Women like to think that men pay attention to qualities that they can control - like dress, hair, or makeup. That's true if there is nothing more intrinsically appealing. 

But let me assure you ladies. A massive pair of perfectly shaped titties is the ace of trumps when it comes to getting noticed by a guy. 

And this woman had a pair that even under a modest white silk blouse might set-off civil insurrection in some countries. 

I had to stifle the urge to put my face in between them and go "Brrrrrrrrrrr."

She was sitting. So I couldn't see anything south of her chest. But once I tore my eyes off her bouncers I saw that she had a really lovely face. 

She looked Italian or Greek by extraction. She had dark auburn hair dusky complexion and beautifully proportioned features with huge, luminous dark eyes. 

Those eyes were currently clouded with a mix of anger and fright. She was struggling to calm herself. 

I put my hand sympathetically on her forearm and said, "It's okay. I understand that must have been scary but you're among friends. Nothing is going to happen now."

The fact that she didn't yank her arm away was a sign that she was getting back to normal. I said, still trying to calm her, 'What's your name? My name is Paul." 

She looked up and actually focused on me for the first time. And I was lost. The crackling blue spark that jumped from her eyes to mine must have lit up the whole interior of the bar. 

She said shakily, "Janet." I wasn't sure whether the shakiness was caused by her recent ugly experience - or what had just passed between us.

I said, "Can I get you a drink?" Nothing like a little alcohol to calm the nerves. "What are you drinking?" 

She said rather off-handedly, "gin and tonic" and continued to stare into my eyes. Her concentration was unnerving. It was like she was scanning my soul. 

I said, "I'll be right back" and rushed a little too hastily up to the bar. I wanted to get away from her for just to screw my head back on. 

I returned with her G&T and an English IPA for myself. She downed hers in one gulp - Impressive...

She looked at me and said, "Thank you for stepping in Officer. He scared me. But I don't let anybody maul me like that." And she looked down at her incredible girls.

I said, "First of all I'm not a cop. I have no more jurisdiction than you. The badge is for a federal agent. I am with the Army at Fort Meade." 

I really would have thought she could tell who I worked for by the high and tight.

I said, "I just flashed the thing to get him to do what he should have done for himself. Authority tends to get your brain working again - even drunks."

She said, "So you just rode to my rescue on your own. What can I do to thank you?"

That was an open invitation if I ever saw one. 

I said, "You can have dinner with me tomorrow. Unless you're already taken. In which case a sincere handshake and a kiss on the cheek will do."

She kissed me on the cheek and said, "I'll see you at 6:00 tomorrow. I have to get back to the hen party but here's my address." And she wrote something on the back of a card.

I turned it over and it said, "Janet A. Wilson JD." I thought, "Shit! A lawyer!!"

Nevertheless, I was pressing her buzzer at exactly 18:00 the following evening. 

She lived in a classic single girl condo in Bethesda. All I heard was a lot of yapping and the sound of somebody kicking a dog away from the door.

Then she opened it and every hesitancy about her profession vanished like the morning dew. 

Last night had been confused with all of the drinking and general chaos and I hadn't really gotten a look at the whole picture. Truth be told I couldn't take my eyes off her massive rack last night.

Now, the goddess Venus herself was standing in the doorway in a pair of skin tight jeans and a loose sweater. She had incredible curves, long legs, wide hips, tiny waist and of course those double D's. 

She was still wrestling with something that resembled a hairless rat. But which I assumed was a Chihuahua. Finally she bent down and picked it up, displaying a perfect apple shaped ass as she did it. 

She was distracted enough by her animal that she didn't see the look of consternation that crossed my face. There is a constant re-balancing process going on in the single set. Whereby everybody seeks their proper level in the social scheme. And I wasn't so sure that I was playing in the right league. 

But she gave me a look that was so hot that I was certain that my socks were going to burst into flame and said, "Sorry about this - Chiquita thinks she has to protect me from everybody." The rat showed me its teeth and gave a low warning growl.

I said, "No problem. I love dogs." I didn't add that my dog was a 100 pound Shar-Pei, Pit-Bull, Labrador mix named Buster. She underhanded her varmint back into the room and closed the door. 

Then she stepped into the hall and took my arm in that universal gesture that women use to indicate possession. 

She said, "Where are we going?"

I said, "I thought we'd try the Blue Duck. I want to get to know you better and their outdoor terrace is a nice quiet place to do that." It was a beautiful clear fall evening in DC.

She looked delighted. She said, "I've heard about that place and I've really wanted to try it. Rumor has it that it's very romantic. You don't have anything planned do you?" That said with a coquettish grin.

I said jokingly, "Only if you do." And she hugged my arm to that colossal bosom of hers. 

I drive a silver Mercedes SLK. Like all good German lads I love superior engineering and nobody does it better than my people. Okay – maybe my people settled in Wisconsin in the late 1800s. But as far as the family was concerned once a German always a German.

She was surprised – pleasantly I hoped. She said, "I thought all you big macho studs drove muscle cars?" 

I said, "I'm not into advertising it." And engaged the smooth as silk drivetrain. 

We talked all the way down to the restaurant. And then we talked some more. 

Janet was a staffer with Senate Armed Services. She had grown up rich in Chicago and had a classic Gold Coast Education at Northwestern and the University of Chicago Law. She was 24, just like me, and getting her feet under her in the Capitol Hill culture. 

The more we talked the more we bonded. She was a knockout. But she was a whole lot more than simply beautiful. She was smart, direct and very funny. 

I took her back that night and dropped her at the door. She stood on her tip toes and gave me the hottest kiss I had ever been given. 

We were still embracing standing there. My hands were joined behind her tiny waist. She leaned back with her hands clasped behind my neck studying me with those deep intelligent brown eyes. 

She said, "I have never felt this way after a first date. I'm not going to fuck you tonight because I am not that kind of girl. But if you come back for a second date I am going to rock your world."

We hit Blues Alley the following night and she wasn't kidding. 

We listened to the music and had a couple of drinks. Whenever she stood up every guy in the room was checking her out. Hell!! I was checking her out and I was with her. 

Men who are with big breasted women know what I'm talking about. It's a puzzlement why men are so fascinated by over-developed mammary glands. But we undeniably are. And if YOUR woman possesses a pair of those things you just have to get used to all of the males in the room leering at her.

Anyhow, we got back to her place and she said, "Why don't you come in for a nightcap?" So in I came. I wasn't THAT stupid.

We cuddled on the couch for all of five minutes and then the kissing and heavy breathing started. 

She looked a little irritated. It was like she was miffed that I hadn't gotten the hint. So she took the bull by the horns, or whatever appendage might be more appropriate, and guided us into her bedroom.

She walked to the bed unbuttoning her blouse. There was some residual light inside the room and I could see her black industrial strength bra as she turned to face me. 

She did that teasing thing what women do where she unhooked it and then kept the cups in place with her upper arms. Then she dropped the bra to the floor. Revealed - in all of their glory - were the most spectacular tits ever affixed to a female body. 

She posed for a second, arms down, palms facing out. It was like she was giving me a benediction. 

The invitation was blatant so I took it. I strode across the room and gently laid her on her back with me lying next to her. She was panting and those huge soft boobs were rising and falling like giant rolling ocean waves. 

Except these waves were pure white with big brown nipples at their crest. And those nipples were sticking straight up like miniature Nuks. 

She reached down and slid her skirt and panties off. I quickly cleared my own decks. I leaned over and kissed her, her mouth opened like a flower. She was red hot. And she conveyed that she was totally in the moment by opening herself to me like that. 

In my experience I have found that women with Janet's type of endowments don't usually bring anything else to the party. They seem to think that the guy should just be grateful that the woman has deigned to allow them to handle the goods. 

On the other hand - Janet brought total warfare. 

She was a strong woman with a supple body. Her tummy was flat but not muscular. It was a perfect landscape to kiss down. When I reached that delightful place where her thighs joined I dipped my tongue in and she went nuts.

She uttered a long unearthly groan and elevated her legs off the bed. Then she spread them impossibly wide with toes pointed. That started a frantic up-and-down movement of her hips against my face. Which culminated a minute or so later in a very loud orgasm. 

I was more-or-less next to her leaning over her pussy when THAT happened and at that point her legs started beating up and down on the bed. They were so out of control that they banged me in the nose. 

As the ripples were still passing across her stomach she grabbed my shoulders and said, "Get in me right now!! You have to get inside me!! DO IT NOW!!"

Then she slithered herself around underneath me, inserted old Lucifer into her boiling hot slit and threw her legs straight up in the air. 

My sliding up inside that tight and wildly churning place produced an unearthly shriek of undistilled passion and she humped violently up to get me further in her. She was basically bent into a bow. With me inserted to the hilt at one end and her eyes vacantly staring at me on the other. 

Then we began to move. It was like an old fashioned steam train pulling out of a station. First a lot of measured deep breathing. That was followed by increasing loud panting. And then the cadenced moaning started like the rhythmic clickity-clack of a train at full speed. 

The recurring wet slapping sounds and my loud grunts and gasps were counterpointed by her increasingly impassioned cries. 

She had her heels locked against the back of my knees and the exciting smell of sex permeated the room. Her face was a mask of passion and those huge pendulous tits were moving in wide cycles as they swung and shook on her chest. 

I had just about gotten to where I wanted to get to when she made a ridiculously loud shriek and as she came I could feel her insides fizz like a shaken up bottle of champaign. 

She relaxed for a second but I needed my cookies at that point. 

So I continued to pound her at an increasingly powerful rate. Her eyes bugged impossibly wide and she yelled, "OH MY GOD!! I'M CUMMING AGAIN!!" And she went off on an outrageous set of writhing and bucking maneuvers, all the while making a noise like she was choking to death. Her legs and lower stomach were literally quivering as they held me in a death grip.

The uncontrollable contractions of her passage finally got me to my destination. And I arrived like an out of control locomotive. 

That set her off in a final very loud orgasm. We held our intimate breeding posture for a couple of minutes while I pumped into her. I thought that there wouldn't be any fluid left in my body.

When we were done we were lying in a sweaty heap. I got a little rationality back. She was looking at me like she thought she had done something wrong. I said, "What?"

She said, "Do you think I'm some kind of wanton slut now? I've never been that out of control in my life."

I laughed and said, "Every man wants a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom. You just totally fucked my brains out. How could I NOT love you?" 

Oh shit!! After two dates I had done the unforgivable!! I'd used the forbidden "L" word. 

I knew that I might as well just put on my pants and leave - before she called the sheriff to evict me. 

Instead she grabbed my neck in both hands, looked in my eyes and with touching sincerity said, "I love you too."

And so it all began. We dated for six months, which was as long as it took for us to be completely comfortable with each other. 

I met her parents when they came to the wedding. I could tell that the Dress Blues and the medals were responsible for most of their admiration. That was what the uniform was designed to do. 

I wasn't going to enlighten them about the fruit salad. Most of those were the same shit that everybody else gets. The Army likes their people to look like heroes when they're dressed up.

We settled into married life in a little place in Greenbelt. She could take the Green Line in to L'Enfant and Capitol South and I could drive up the Baltimore-Washington Parkway to the Fort. 

It was an idyllic period in both of our lives. Even the dogs slept together. Although I was worried about 100 pound Buster accidently crushing 5 pound Chiquita in his sleep.

Janet was making her way up the ranks of Congressional staffers and I was finishing off my hitch as a Captain. 

After I got out, I was recruited to a private firm in Roslyn. I was doing the same kind of analytics but the pay was well into six figures, which was a tribute to the amount of "War on Terror" money that was washing around DC.

We mortgaged ourselves to the hilt and bought a condo on the C&O Towpath in Georgetown. Vienna would have been a lot cheaper but both of us liked the Georgetown vibe. And we did all of the things that 34 year olds would do down there.

Our love life continued to be perfect. We made love four or five times a week, often more than once. And we had an affectionate, easygoing, relationship all of the time that we were together. 

We laughed a lot and we had wonderful quiet Sundays together, both of us with a book and Chopin playing on the house speakers. All-in-all it was everything you could ever expect, or ask for, in a marriage.

One of the advantages of commercial intelligence work is that you have nine-to-five hours, not like it was when I was on active service. 

I was doing mostly analytics with a team of bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed GWU and Georgetown graduates. 

It was the usual generic threat assessment stuff that I had done for Army CI. But it was on an attack surface that was businessy, rather than military. So I dressed for work in a preppy get-up, rather than BDUs and a beret. 

My people were only eight to ten years younger than me but between my service time and the fact that I was their boss they tended to treat me like I was Methuselah. I enjoyed the respect but I missed the camaraderie that I got with my crew at the Fort.


Cat in the Rain



Janet dressed like she always did - business-like. A smart and capable woman like Janet wants to be appreciated for what she does, not how she looks. And the tits and ass she carries around with her are distracting unless she tones them down with low heels, a classic grey pencil skirt and a silk blouse.

Her hours were a little more erratic than mine since she was tied to the Committee. There would be long periods when she spent her spare time working on constituent projects and she was home long before I was. Then there were the crash periods, particularly around budget time, where she might be up on the Hill all day and well into the night.

Janet had been promoted to a senior policy position the previous December. It was a nice bump-up in pay. But the downside was that she had to spend late nights on the Hill and at Committee events. 

The promotion was unexpected since you normally have to serve a long apprenticeship before you get one of the true advisory roles. But she is a very smart woman and frankly I thought that she was a lot more capable than the guy she was advising. So it was clearly deserved - at least in my mind. 

She was the Chief Policy Advisor for the Chair of the Committee. The Chair himself was from one of those Bible Belt States where – based on the people they kept sending to Congress - you wondered if ANY of his constituents had gotten out of the ninth grade before they married their sister. 

I had met him a few times. He was right out of central casting for Senators - with the stalwart height and the forthright gaze and the determined chin. 

He was 50-60ish handsome and he had the resolute look of a leader. But he was actually slicker than deer guts on a doorknob, he had never actually served, and his thick wavy hair was a rug. 

Nonetheless, he did have the "Foghorn J. Leghorn" act down to a science. He told the herd what they wanted to hear, no matter how illogical the message. It was an admirably cynical approach to political reality. But the people voting for him were cattle anyhow. 

My own assessment of the guy was that he was a total narcissist with the personal integrity of a used car salesman. As far as he was concerned everything was up for sale. 

But he had done three terms in the Senate and the seniority system had put him in a position where he could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that "power corrupts." 

His blond wife was as elegant and nuancedly sophisticated as her husband was a card-carrying redneck. She obviously came from big money and bigger influence in their State, which was why the esteemed Member of Congress was in the Senate in the first place. 

She was a dead ringer for the older Grace Kelly, blond slim and regal. While his four kids were stepping stones from 19 to 25. All of them attended out-of-state schools which said something about the Senator's view of his own State's education system. 

Janet said that this truly shady example of American democracy was actually a down to earth, good-guy in private. Personally, I didn't have any confidence that my tax money was in good hands. And I didn't like the sneer he gave me when we first met. 

I was aware that he was considerably further up the totem pole than I was. But it was family money that had put him there, not his innate intelligence and hard work.

As a senior staffer Janet was expected to attend functions related to the Committee. I went with her if it was necessary, especially if it was a social event. But when she was working she went by herself. Obviously, she always had to dress for the occasion.

I was sitting in our den when she appeared in the doorway to say goodbye. She was going down to the Kennedy Center that night for some event that was honoring somebody. They are always handing out honors to each other so it is hard to keep track. 

She was dressed in a simple deep blue Versace gown. The effect was breathtaking. It showed enough of her huge breasts at the top and her stunning legs at the bottom to look sexy without seeming to really try. 

With her perfectly made-up face and the body underneath that dress I knew that she would have all of the geezers eating out of the palm of her hand.

She was clearly in a pensive mood. I said inquiringly, "What's up?"

She said, "Oh nothing." Then she said with emotion in her voice, "Have you ever thought about just chucking it all and living on a beach somewhere?"

Where did that come from!!? She had obviously been under stress for the past several months. But with the new fiscal year and all of the battles over appropriations September is a tough time on the Hill. 

I thought to myself, "Perhaps she's just wearing down from all of the latent skullduggery? 

I said, "No I haven't actually. But my job is nowhere near as stressful as yours. We should discuss it. Maybe it's time to talk about peddling your services on K Street."

She gave me a glum look and said, "Maybe it is. But the power is hard to give up. It's intoxicating" 

Then she brightened and said, "Let's sail down to Point Lookout next weekend? It would be just you and me and nature." And she gave me one of her patented hot looks. 

I knew what THAT meant. We sail a C&C 40. And we had spent a few of our most romantic weekends laying up in Piscataway Creek off of Fort Washington. We would revel in the quietude of nature and from time-to-time we would make the boat rock. Then we would finish the weekend with a nice dinner in National Harbor, or Old Town Alexandria. 

I said, "Sure babe. We need to get you away from all of the craziness and get back to just you and me - like the old times. Before you became a Capitol Hill power broker. 

I rose and walked over to kiss her goodbye. She seemed sad. But she was looking at me with utter devotion. 

She turned and walked to the door in her 4 inch stilettos, leaving a trail of her special perfume. That scent sets off incredible yearning in the male animal. She looked back brightly and said, "I'll probably spend the night at the Watergate. That's where the reception is and I don't want to drive back after that much drinking."

That wasn't an abnormal circumstance. It had been her usual routine since she took over the senior position. So I said jokingly, "I'll be safe and sound here. And no hookers, or call girls for me tonight – I promise."

She looked at me like she wasn't sure I was joking. So I gave her a big smile and said, "Kidding". She smiled back at me and closed the door.

She didn't actually get back until late Sunday night. She had called that morning and told me that there were some things that they were working on back at the Russell Building and she would be tied up all day with paperwork. 

With nothing better to do, I spent my day down at the Marina doing all of the maintenance that you have to do to keep a boat ship-shape. 

As the old saying goes, "If you want to know what sailing feels like just stand in a cold shower and tear up fifty dollar bills." 

Nevertheless, it was an utterly peaceful and rewarding day. I took a nap, ate on the boat and drove back. Janet arrived less than a half hour later.

She went straight upstairs to drop her stuff and change. She had taken a little bag with her when she left. I was waiting with a fresh G&T when she reappeared. She was in a pair of skintight yoga pants and a big loose University of Chicago sweatshirt. Her hair was tied back and she looked exhausted.

I sat down on the big sectional couch and she snuggled under my arm. She said, "I am getting really tired of all of this stress. Once this year's Authorization Act gets passed I am going to take some time off and we can reconnect. I know I've been way too busy over the past year and I'm sorry. I've been selfish. I promise that is going to change."

Then she kissed me passionately. I was working my hands up under her sweatshirt with my target being those big unrestrained boobs. But she broke the kiss and said, "Not tonight buster. I'm way too tired to enjoy it properly. 

"Be prepared tomorrow though. I am not going in to the Office. I'm going to lie around here all day so I will be rested and ready to kick your ass." And with that she finished her drink and made her way upstairs.

I sat there for a while thinking about what she had said. She HAD been preoccupied for some time and she had also been away from home a lot more than usual. It seemed to correspond with her promotion and so I was wondering if she wasn't considering my suggestion that it was time to move on into the lobbying industry. That was where the real money was anyhow.

She had sounded sincere about her desire to reconnect, no question about that. So perhaps she had decided that the time had come for another item. That was the baby. We had been putting THAT off until we got our career groove on. But at 34 – almost 35 - she was not getting any younger.

She was still asleep when I left for work the next day. She looked both innocent and incredibly sexy, with her tousled hair framing her angelic face. 

I got my usual breakfast at the Starbucks next to the Rosslyn Metro station. It's where the Georgetown Blue Shuttle stops. Then I wandered into work feeling more upbeat than I had in a while. 

It was a beautiful fall day. And the entire City of Washington DC glittered outside my sixth floor window. I was feeling particularly up-beat. It sounded like Janet and I might have entered a new phase in the twists and turns of our life.

There was a knock at my door and Kari, who is my sidekick and general all around work buddy stuck her head in. 

Kari is 24 and has been my indispensable right hand for the past three years. She had come to me fresh out of Georgetown. I had mentored her for the first year. But for the past two years she had showed promise of surpassing me in the analytics game. She was super-smart, funny and always full of life. And her technical skills were second to none.

She and Janet were similar in many ways, intelligent, beautiful, energetic and tough. But where Janet had that voluptuous body Kari was elfin – that is if elves had really big tits. 

Kari had short white blond hair that appeared to be natural and the biggest green eyes seen outside of the cat species. She was all of five-one. So she looked like Tinker Belle without the wings and slutty costume. She had a tight, round, lithe little body, and she might weigh all of 110 pounds soaking wet. 

The irony was that, somewhere in Kari's construction process one of her heavenly designers had gotten the idea that it might be fun to stick a pair of big round Ds on her tiny frame. I assume that it was just to see if she could stand upright without falling on her face. 

The outcome of that experiment was that my work buddy also sported a remarkable pair of jugs. 

I say that with the greatest amount of respect. Since the only sexual feelings that I had for Kari were in the abstract. I appreciated that she was a knock-out. But that appreciation didn't extend any further than a general sense of how attractive she was.

She seemed to have an active sex life. I knew that because she told me about her adventures. She did it without providing too much information. And in just the same way one close work pal would do with another. Except normally that kind of talk just goes on between us denizens of the tree house. 

Of course, Kari was more like a guy than a girl anyhow. She had played field hockey for four years at Georgetown and she had been raised with three brothers. Any woman who could burp the alphabet was alright with us men.

She was her usual dazzlingly vigorous self, even though I knew that she had spent the weekend with some guy up in Manhattan. 

She said breezily, "There's a fellow who wants to talk to you. He won't tell me who he is. Do you want me to let him in - or should I just throw him off the top of the building"

I smiled at her and said, "Show this mysterious stranger in. But be ready to intervene in case I need your help." She is five one and 110. I am closer to six-four and 220. She got the joke. 

My visitor was a little guy with a rat-face and a hoodie. I was about to say, "I'm not interested in buying any drugs," when he produced a credential and said, "I'm Arnie Gold from the Washington Post and I would like a minute of your time."

Okay – that was interesting. I sat back trying not to look too curious and said, "What can I do for you Arnie?"

He said, "Do you know – and he showed me a picture of Senator "Cornpone" on his phone. 

I was mystified. I said, "Yes I do - of course. My wife Janet Schmidt is one of his senior staffers and I have met him on occasions."

He said, "I don't want to ask you this." 

He clearly SO wanted to ask me – "this". 

"But we have been investigating the Senator and your wife has come up several times in the investigation."

I said, "What do you mean by that?" 

He said, "Let me ask you outright. To your knowledge, is your wife having an affair with the Senator?"

I slowly stood up. I leaned toward him with my hands widely spaced on my desk. There were veins standing out on my neck. I must have looked like I was about to jump over the desk and attack him. 

My posture might be aggressive but my voice was relatively calm. I said, "How the fuck do you think that you have any right to come in here and ask me a question like THAT?" 

He cowered in his chair but he said with equal calm in his voice, "I have observed the two of them on numerous occasions and in various settings and given their behavior and some of the things the Senator's staff have told me I believe that the two of them are having a sexual relationship."

That hit me like a thunderbolt. Janet - unfaithful? The beautiful, intelligent and level-headed woman who was my very soul mate was cheating on me? 

That thought had never entered my mind. We have always had a close and comfortable connection. There was no time when she acted distant or displeased with me. She never denied me anything. Plus the sex was always excellent. I had expected to die in her arms.

Nevertheless, there was this rodent from the Post telling me a fatally opposite story.

I said, "How the fuck would I know what she is doing with that slimy piece of shit. She is with him because she works for him.

"And frankly what business is it of yours? Why do you think you can just waltz in here and ruin my life?"

He looked a little offended and said, "The Senator is one of the leading conservative voices for Family Values. And the public has a right to know if he is - in fact - a hypocrite. 

"That is a story that has to be reported. And if it is true it is something that will garner a lot of headlines. I am just trying to get to the bottom of things."

So there it was. The little weasel saw himself as a latter day incarnation of Woodward and Bernstein. I was sure that he already had the space cleared on his mantle for his Pulitzer.

I said coldly, "I will not dignify your accusation with any kind of comment. My wife is a loving and faithful woman who would not betray my confidence in any way. The Senator may be morally bankrupt but my wife is not. And I don't appreciate you implying that. So please leave."

He looked like he was going to say something else. But instead he rose and offered his hand. I shook it and he said, "Here is my card in case you change your mind."

I escorted him to my office door. I opened it and let him out. Then I closed the door, walked back to my desk and sat down. Waves of anguish overwhelmed me. Suddenly the day didn't look quite so bright.

Just then a blond mop of hair and a pair of mischievous eyes peered around the door. She said in her usual flirty manner, "What did the creepy guy want?"

I thought about it for a minute. My heart told me that I needed a friend. And my brain told me that I needed somebody's help and advice. I couldn't do this by myself and remain sane.

So I crossed my fingers and said to myself, "All-in!!" 

I looked at her and said with a little too much gravity, "He was from the Washington Post." 

Kari got the look that a lot of her generation gets when you mention the hoary old lady of 15th street. Her wired generation thinks that the Post chisels their news on stone tablets.

I said, "He had something personal to tell me. And I think I need to talk to somebody."

She popped into the chair in front of me looking as eager as a Jack Russell terrier waiting for somebody to throw a ball. Her gorgeous little round face with its huge green eyes looked concerned. 

She said, "What did he tell you?"

I said as a preliminary, "Kari, you and I have worked together for almost four years. In that time I have come to consider you one of my best friends. I don't have many friends, or even people I trust. But you are one of them. 

So I am going to rely on you to keep this quiet forever. If you can't promise me that - then we need to forget that I brought it up.

Her bright green eyes clouded with hurt and she started to tear up. Women!! 

She said, "You can always trust me. You have been my mentor, my friend and the one man who I could count on in my entire life. I would NEVER betray your confidence."

I thought, "Yeah right??? Where have I heard THAT before?" 

But I actually said, "The guy was a reporter. He is investigating the Senator who Janet works for. And in his investigations he has come to believe that she is engaged in an affair with him. He wanted me to confirm that, which I didn't do of course. 

"But - if there IS something going on between them I'll get the horns hung on me all over the 24–hour news cycle. I think you can see how that would be personally embarrassing as well as totally devastating to our marriage.

"I just cannot accept that kind of disloyalty and frankly if Janet is engaged in something like that she is not the woman I married."

Kari looked shocked. There was also something else behind her eyes but I couldn't tell what it was. Her customarily cheerful visage changed. Her face transformed from the beautiful fresh glow that made her look like she was about sixteen, to a much harder and more focused person. 

In that instant I could see why she was such an effective analyst. Her mind was the proverbial steel trap. She said with concern in her voice, "How can I help?"

I said, "I am going to have to find out what is going on and I will need your usual technical assistance setting things up."

And I added with a grimace, "I might also need a shoulder to cry on depending on what I find out." 

"Also - I will need a partner in crime if it turns out to be as bad as Gold says it is. Because I am NOT the kind of guy who can rest until an open account is settled."

She looked at me with an unwavering glint in her eye and said with conviction, "You've got it boss."

Kari is ten years younger than me and she has always seemed more like a little sister than an actual peer. But I could sense the intensity in that exquisite little body combined with her excellent mind. 

And I understood for the first time that she was anything but innocent. 

I knew that she went through men like they were snack food. I always put that down to her leading the carefree single girl life. And sometimes I worried about her. Now I realized that the woman sitting in front of me feared no man, or situation, because she was always in command. She was one very tough cookie. 

I got home at my usual time. Janet had been my only real love and best friend and companion for all of my adult life. She had contributed as much to who I was, as my parents. 

So I didn't have to fake my feelings of comfortable camaraderie. She had run uptown and gotten empanadas and fritters from the Tapas Truck and was laying the dinner out on our back patio when I walked in. 

She had her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. And she was in jeans and a Northwestern Wildcats football jersey. The jersey hung down past her round delectable ass. She looked like the world's hottest sorority girl.




Cat in the Rain



She handed me a beer and said jovially, "So how goes the war on terror?"

I said, "Same-old-same-old, the evil-doers are going to have to get up pretty early to put anything over on me. How are things up on the Hill?"

I thought I saw a shadow pass over her face. She said with an unusual amount of cynicism in her voice, "Oh just peachy!" 

What was THAT all about?

We ate and talked as usual. It was such a normal evening that the issue I was wrestling with temporarily moved to the back of my mind. 

Finally she said with lust in her voice, "Isn't there something that you promised to take care of for me?"

Oh!! Yes!! Right!! Of course!! 

I had the nagging thought that this might be the last opportunity for me to make love to her. But for the time-being she was innocent until proven guilty. And she was still the hottest woman I had ever known.

I stood and led her toward the master bedroom. I couldn't help but notice the gentle swaying of those beautiful big unrestrained tits underneath her jersey.

When we got to the bedroom she did that thing that women do where they kind of rest their arms on your shoulders and hold their hands dangling straight out behind you. In effect that completely opened her body to me. 

She was searching my face like she was looking for something there. I was afraid that there might be. So I dragged her to me with enough force that it got a little grunt and gasp out of her.

Then I plastered my lips on hers. She immediately opened her mouth wide and took my tongue into it. I could feel those big jugs moving around between us as I held her tightly to me. 

She had started hyperventilating as I kissed her and that ended quickly in a sigh and a moan. I got the impression that she had some sort of mini-orgasm. 

I thought to myself, "How could she be this needy and still cheat with another man?" It made no sense

She stepped back and raised her arms. I eased her jersey off over her head. Her big tits lilted back and forth as I did that. Which gave me an idea. 

I wrapped the jersey around her wrists holding her arms straight above her head. Then I bent my head down and began to suck and bite the already distended nipple of her left breast. She let out an unearthly shriek of pure sensation and her legs completely collapsed under her. 

First her wide solid butt hit our plush bedroom rug and then her back. It was all I could do to keep her from hitting her head on the floor as she fell. 

I was now between her legs and still playing with her nipple with my lips. She shrieked again and tried to get her arms loose. But I had tangled the jersey around her wrists in a way that she wasn't going anywhere. 

I was lying between her spread legs alternately feasting on the nipples of both breasts. I was doing a little nipping and biting of those big solid globes when she hyperventilated again and just shrieked, "OH GOD!! Yesssss!!" And she began madly bucking underneath me. 

I released my hold on the jersey as she collapsed back in the afterglow - sat up and dragged her jeans and panties down her long legs. I also lost my own pants in the process. 

She was just coming back from long ago and far away. Her legs were spread eagled and the smell of her arousal was pervasive. 

Before she could recover completely I jammed old Lucifer into that hot and highly receptive hole and slid all the way up inside her. She was so wet that the trip up her passage was almost instantaneous. 

Her eyes flew wide-open with astonishment and for a second something passed between us that was a lot like anguish. Then her eyes rolled up and she shrieked again. She braced her feet flat on the floor, knees bent upward and lifted her big muscular buns completely off the ground with me buried to the hilt at the fulcrum where we met. 

She stayed there resting on her upper back and the flats of her feet while gyrating those powerful hips. Her butt was still completely off the ground. That inspired me to pound her with all I had. She was making loud cries, grunts and groans as we humped against each other. The mating noises were like something out of Animal Planet. 

She kept moaning over-and-over, "So good – God yesss!! Give it to me baby!! Fuck me!! Fuck me harder!! More!! More!!" Then she yelled "AGAIN!! YESSSS!!" and reversed her position so she now had nothing but her butt on the ground with her legs shooting straight up in the air feet radically pointed, her toes with their red tipped nails drastically curled. In the meantime she was clasping me to her chest with arms like steel bands.

Her passage went nuts as she came. And in doing so it triggered the orgasm that I was leading up to. It was so powerful that it felt like it had come from somewhere over the horizon. I pumped into her as she continued to writhe and shake and yell, "Ahhh!! Give it to me baby!! Give it ALL to me!! I love you!!"

We lay there on the floor in the afterglow. I remember thinking to myself, "We'll have to replace that rug now." 

Finally she popped one eye open and said, "What did you just DO to me. I have never come like that in my life. What are you trying to do, make me your love-slave?" 

I had the ungentlemanly thought that slavery was the least of what I was going to do to her if I found her in the Senator's bed. 

But instead I said, "That happens when two people are as attuned to each other as much as we are. We love each other and this is the result." 

She looked intensely at me and said with sincerity, "I know that I love you from the bottom of my heart." 

We reassembled ourselves and started our NEW bedtime routine. She showered. And I bluebugged her phone and ratted both her personal and work laptops. Thank God she had brought her office one home to work remotely today - or it would have been a lot more difficult task.

A remote-access-trojan gives you absolute control over the computer that it is installed on. I was mainly interested in accessing her camera and audio functions. Since those would put me on the other side of the one way mirror into her life. 

It usually takes some kind of social engineering exploit to put a rat on somebody else's machine. But since I had physical access to Janet's two computers it took less than ten minutes. 

Most of that time was spent cracking her passwords. Her devices were all password protected. But "John the Ripper", which was my cracking tool, had a good laugh at how simple they were. 

I buried both rats in low memory so they would load before any antivirus software. Janet was drying her hair in the bathroom as I finished opening the book of her life. 

Was this a totally low-down deceitful thing to do to the love of my life? Absolutely!! Would I do it again? Of course!! I needed to get the answer before my head blew off. 

The next day, I was in the den finishing up configuring the malware connection to her laptops. I wanted her devices nearby to be sure that everything was copasetic. 

Ratting isn't a major technology exploit any more. It used to be. But now it is something that 16 year old guys do to keep track of their girlfriends. The tools, know-how and step-by-step instructions are all on the internet. 

I had put a man-in-the-middle app on her phone. In essence it was a party line. And I would be listening in on every phone call. I had the bug hooked to a recorder in the cloud. I also had the GPS function wired to a tracking application that would give me a history of Janet's movements.

The rats on her two computers were backdoors. 

They gave me full control of the laptop's functions when I accessed them from my device. They were also set to record and do a remote upload of anything that went on within the vision of the camera and the hearing of the microphones.

I was satisfied that "what-would-be-would-be." So I headed in to work myself. It was another beautiful day in the neighborhood. But my mood was anything but upbeat.

I knew that I loved Janet with all of my heart. And I believed that she felt the same way about me. There was nothing in her behavior to indicate that she had another man in her life. And there was no mysterious "disturbance in the force" in the rhythms of our marriage. 

Janet is good at working people. The esteemed Senator would be a primary target, since he was the guy who could make things happen for her. So maybe THAT was what Gold had observed. But one way or the other I knew that I would have the answers by the end of the week.

Kari was her usual sunny self. She had on a tight black t-shirt that stretched, "I See Stupid People," across her disproportionately large chest. And she was wearing her normal pair of skin tight jeans topped off with 4 inch heels. We have a very relaxed dress code and Kari never tries to hide her curvy little body or her molten sexuality. 

I said, "I think I'm going to go let the rats run for a couple of days and then I am going to go over what we have on Saturday." 

She said, "I have the three bugs on an LTE link feeding into the darkweb server that you had me set up. There's a terabyte of storage before we would have to reconfigure. That should handle a week's worth of audio and video. How are you holding up?"

I said, "Nothing to hold up about. There is no proof that she strayed and I still believe in her."

Kari gave me the look that she reserves for the terminally naïve and said, "There WILL be something. I'm a woman and I know how these things work.

"We are faithful because we choose to be. You can't chain us to the wall anymore. So a girl will do what a girl wants to do. Our choice might be colored by our moral, or religious beliefs, or a simple sense of personal honor. But it is our decision and ours alone. 

"Men will fuck anything moving. But cheating is a much more cognizant decision for a woman. The motive might be nothing more than being pissed off, or bored. But we always do it for a reason. That's why women tend to fuck bosses, or richer, or more physically dominant males - it gives them something they don't already have. 

There ARE hopeless sluts of course. But most of us don't go out of our way to stray. And there would be less straying if the male world wasn't so tirelessly aggressive. 

There are men who are as decent and honorable as you are. But, there are just as many guys who have no conscience, or empathy whatsoever. It's the thrill of the hunt, the ego boosting feeling of racking up another score. And as a woman, you are just prey– a prize to conquer. 

"When one of these guys targets you they go all out to win. They give you the person you want to see. But whoever they're pretending to be is never close to who they actually are. And they don't treat you like a fellow human being - with feelings to crush and dignity to trample. All they are interested in is putting YOUR pussy in THEIR win column. 

"Our problem is that women have an unrealistic view of who we are. We are brought up to believe that we always have to be perfect. 

"So when we fail – no matter what the reason – we tend to just go with the situation. It's like we have to keep fucking Prince Charming - no matter how much of an actual frog he turns out to be - because we can never un-ring the bell. It's our penance for stepping over the line in the first place." 

Then she gave me an embarrassed look and said, "I know, I've been there a couple of times myself. And I will bet you the world's most deluxe blowjob that is exactly the situation that your wife is in."

At the base of my lizard brain I knew that Kari was right. But I was still in denial. So I said, "We'll see." 

Maybe I believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. But I was just not ready to accept that my marriage was over. And make no mistake – it was over if what Kari had said was true.

Needless to say the rest of that day and the following ones were difficult. A lot of the difficulty came from knowing that I was probably writing the end to my own story. 

The other part of the problem was that Janet had turned particularly affectionate, which made me feel like one sneaky son-of-a-bitch. I got the impression that she had come to some sort of epiphany. 

She had never been anything but loving and respectful. But she was at work a lot over the prior four or five months. Now it was like she was going out of her way to make time for me. I would have never noticed that change in behavior if Mr. Gold had not visited me. But in retrospect her actions looked a lot like remorse. 

I tried to lead my life like I always did. I went to work and came home as usual. We did things together, bantered like we always do and we cuddled and made love again that week. 

I had no idea what I was going to do. I wanted to take a preliminary look at the data before I made any decisions about next steps. But even the most cursory review of the videos was going to take a few hours. So I decided to put-off Armageddon until Saturday morning.

On Saturday I got up well before Janet did and left her a note telling her that there was an emergency at work. 

There were a number of people around the office when I arrived with my customary Starbucks vente and bagel. Kari was NOT one of them. She was back in Manhattan. 

She had told me that she was planning on showing up bright and early on Monday morning looking well-fucked. Apparently she considered this guy to be more serious than her usual play-dates.

I waved to a few of the staff as I came in, went into my private office and threw the electronic security lock. I handle top secret stuff so there is a scaled down version of the Tempest shielding in the walls and a very secure workstation in there. 

Kari had appropriated an old dot Mil site on the darkweb as our bounce to the cloud. So if anybody DID find my rats they would lead to a location that had not been active since the Gipper was President. 

I looked at what we had collected over the past four days and found that we had almost exceeded our storage limits. There were over a hundred calls and e-mails and hours of video captures from the rats on her work laptop. There was less video from her personal laptop since she apparently only used it afterhours. 

I went to work fast forwarding through the video. By 10:30 AM I had the whole dreadful picture. She was fucking him. That was for certain-sure. It was hideous.

They seemed to be restricting their trysts to her office, which was a lot less public than his. 

There was a noisy blow job on Wednesday with him sitting in her desk chair - only HIS face was visible. The "MAAAAA" sound he made as he came was reminiscent of a sheep bleating. The gross gulping noises that came from below camera range just killed me

And there was a lovely video on Thursday of her sitting in the desk chair, head thrown back, while he fondled her big naked breasts. But it was hard to see him as he stood behind her. And I think he fucked her OVER the desk afterward. 

Although THAT was only picked up by the audio gear. The cameras have to be pointed at the event in order to record it. But I could distinctly hear both of them as they came.

Yesterday I finally got an excellent video of both of them – one that was ideal for my purposes. 

It was actually captured by her personal laptop. She had been working on it at a side table next to her desk when a call came in and it was pointed at the whole room. She moved to her desk to take the call. 

Her work laptop captured her sitting down in the desk chair and picking up the landline phone. From her conversation I could tell that the Congressman was calling from his office to enquire if she was available. The timestamp was yesterday at 8:13 PM. 

She sat at her desk doing something and then at 8:37 Senator Douchebag appeared at her door. He entered and closed and locked the door. 

He said, "Everybody's gone home. You dismissed them right?" 

She was sitting directly in front of the office laptop as she said a little glumly, "I sent them all home like you asked." 

He said, "Good! Then let's get TO it!" Romantic little devil wasn't he? 

She sighed and stood up from her desk. She came into the camera range of the personal laptop and walked to her couch casually unbuttoning her blouse as she went. 

He was right behind her looking more like Pepe Le Pew than a member of America's most august legislative body. 

She dropped her blouse and then unhooked her bra. Turned and sat down. She almost looked sad. 

The Senator on the other hand looked like he was in heat. 

The minute she sat down he was plopped between her legs sucking on those big beautiful boobs. He looked like he was trying to swallow one of them. That couldn't have been too stimulating for her. 

Nonetheless, she threw her head back. And put her forearm over her eyes - as she reclined backwards on the couch. Her nipples have always been super-sensitive.

Senator Dickhead then spent five or ten minutes noisily sucking on Janet's tits and biting her nipples. As he worked on her she started to get into it, emitting little gasps and moans. You could see him sliding her dress up and slipping her panties down as he feasted. 

Then he jammed two fingers into her pussy and began to twiddle like a man possessed. 

The fingering really got to her. She uttered a loud groan and humped her hips up to receive him and began to moan loudly. You could easily hear the slurp-slurp-slurp as the distinguished Member of Congress finger fucked my wife. 

Her motor was running full-blast by then. She was emitting loud cries and gasps and muttering under her breath, "fuck-me-fuck-me-fuck-me." 

At that point Senator Asswipe got kittenish. He continued to vigorously pump her box but he said in a teasing manner, "Do you really want me? I'm not sure? You need to tell me what you want me to do." 

She mumbled something. He said playfully, "I can't hear you. You need to say it louder." 

She said something but I still couldn't make it out. He said, his voice mischievous, "I still can't hear you. What do you want me to do?" 

Janet said in a clear and angry tone, "I want you to fuck me!! I want you to stick your cock in me and cum inside me NOW." 

With that explicit invitation, he plunged his no doubt painfully rigid member all the way up into her in one motion. She shouted, "Ahhhhhhhhh!!" 

It sounded like pure sensation, not desire. And then she settled down to loud cries and moans as he pumped her. 

At that point she was holding her legs up in the air in that classic woman's posture designed to get the maximum penetration. And she was humping back at him with wild abandon. 

She was just yelling, "Ahhh! Ahhh! YES! YES! That nauseating dialogue went on for perhaps twenty minutes. 

In that period she had at least one very noisy orgasm. Then the Senator himself let out a loud, "Ahhhh Fuck Yesssss!" and his hairy ass began to flex over and over while he pumped into her. While he was doing that she yelled, "OH GOD" and came loudly one last time. 

Afterward, Janet just lay there moaning quietly, her feet were flat on the floor, knees spread wide. She was motionless. Her gaping pussy was on full display and the remains of the good Senator were dripping out of her. 

She looked devastated. 

The Senator was feeling very good about himself as he stood and reassembled his pants. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "That was spectacular as usual my dear. You are the best fuck I have ever had. And I hope we can keep doing this for a long time to come." 

She said with venom in her voice, "Get out of here you bastard."

He said merrily, "Whatever you say my dear." 

Then he smirked at her and said with threat in his voice, "Just remember that you are MY slut." 

She rose appearing beaten and hopeless as he pranced out of the room looking smug. She pulled up her panties, reassembled her dress, put her blouse and bra back on and sat down at her desk. 




Cat in the Rain



Then she began to cry. I had never heard such heart-wracking sobs from a human being in my life. 

Last night she had gotten home after I had gone to sleep. But I had turned in early. I was glad I had.

I shut off the video and just sat there staring into space. My mind was a blank and I felt sick to my stomach. The hurt was almost unbearable. 

The pain just kept coming in pulses. I knew with irrevocable certainty that stark emptiness was my new reality. 

I kept telling myself that I was tough enough to manage this. But my mind was a black void. The impact of the thing just overwhelmed me. And I put my head down on my desk and for the first time in thirty years I wept. 

It was fucking embarrassing. But thanks to the shielding nobody heard or saw me. 

After a couple of minutes my self-respect kicked in. I needed to get a grip – get myself under control and take action. I stopped crying, went to my personal lavatory and splashed some water in my face. I dried my face off looked into my red eyes and said, "You're on your own now soldier. So shape your ass up and stop being such a pussy." 

After what I had witnessed there was no way I could stay married to Janet. But that thought blasted a hole in my formerly self-satisfied view of life. 

Everybody has to have SOME sense of certainty. Mine was built around my marriage and her. It was probably stupid to put all of my eggs in one basket but that was the path I had chosen. 

Now I realized how mortal I truly was. And it was a scary proposition indeed. There was nothing certain for me now except death and the burning hatred that I had for Senator Jubal Early Simpson.

I recognized that it was time to close the door and move into the next part of my life without Janet. The vista that I was trudging off into was as bleak and barren as the desert. But I felt like I might be able to save some vestige of my sanity if I held onto my hate. 

I was still in a fugue state. All I could think about was getting someplace quiet to think. As I went down to my car. I had the totally inappropriate thought, "Thank God I decided to drive instead of taking the Blue Bus. I couldn't face her yet." 

I did not want anybody to find me. So I drove the Range Rover down to Fort McNair. I have a Reserve Officer's access to that base. I stashed the Rover in NDU's back lot off of V Street. I locked it up and walked the two hundred yards down Buzzard's Point to the James Creek Marina. 

I cast-off and motored down the short stretch of the Anacostia and out into the Potomac. I kept the boat under diesel all the way downriver to Belmont Bay. Just as the sun was setting I tossed the fore and aft anchors. 

The ride down the Potomac was mildly therapeutic. It was another beautiful fall day and I just tried to concentrate on the things that I still had going for me. I had a job that I loved. And I had a few good friends, particularly Kari. If I ever needed her it was now. But I had too much pride to interrupt her weekend. 

I was only just turned 35 and I was in decent shape. I would find another woman and I would rebuild my life - as scary as the prospect sounded. 

But first I had a debt to settle. The thought of the scorched earth that I was going to bring to Senator Simpson's life almost made me whole again. 

My phone had started to ring about 3:30 PM. I was formulating a plan and I absolutely didn't want to talk to Janet. She called constantly after that so I turned the ringer off. 

I had plenty of alcohol on the boat but I am not the kind of guy who gets drunk in order to run away from things. So I was sitting in the cockpit in the darkness sipping a Yuengling and listening to the birds and insects in Occoquan Bay. 

Then the phone lit up again. I reached to turn it off and I saw it was Kari, not Janet. 

I picked it up and said, "Hello Kiddo."

Kari's pissed off voice said, "Where the fuck ARE you? I've been looking all over for you?" 

I said, trying to sound chipper, "Hello to you too. How is New York?"

Keri said, "Fuck New York!! The moment Janet called me I knew that the balloon had gone up down here and I flew back three hours ago. I have been driving to every place I can think of looking for you. You need a friend!!"

A tsunami of gratitude washed over me. Of course I needed somebody! And Kari was my best friend. That is - now that my former best friend had disqualified herself. 

I said, "Are you going to tell Janet where I am?"

She said, "Of course NOT - not unless you want me to." 

I thought for a second. I had been forming a plan all of the way down the river and it depended on neither of the adulterers getting any hint that I knew. But I couldn't face Janet without tipping my hand. 

So I said, "Can you call Janet and tell her that you just found out that I am doing some sort of super-secret mission out of the country and that I can't talk now. 

"Make something up. Make it sound plausible. Tell her that I will try to get in touch when I can and that I love her." That should quiet things down. 

Kari said with incredulity in her voice, "I'm guessing by the way that you are acting that you found out that she was fucking that slimeball. And you still love her???!!" 

I said, "Oh I love her alright, I just never want to be in the same room with her. Right now I am trying to paste whatever's left of my broken heart back together. But there are a lot of missing pieces." 

Kari said, "Where the fuck are you. I'm coming to you." 

I said, "I'm in the boat. I'm laid up in Belmont Bay off of Woodbridge but don't come..." 

She said, "I'll be there in an hour," and terminated the connection before I could say anything else.

Exactly one hour later she called me from the Belmont Marina dock. She was standing under the halogen dock lights in her usual skintight jeans. Although she had on Topsiders instead of heels. She was wearing a chambray work shirt that hung down past her round butt and she was carrying a little overnight case. 

She clambered aboard and disappeared down the companionway. I opened a couple of cold Yuengling's. She came out and walked over to where I was sitting and planted a big wet kiss on my forehead. 

She stepped back and held me at arm's length with those huge, bright emerald eyes searching my face. The fact that she was standing and I was sitting and that she was looking at me almost directly eye-to-eye only emphasized how tiny she was. 

She said with concern, "I know it hurts. Do you want to talk about it?" 

I said, "Not really, not right now, I am still trying to get my mind around what I saw. And I may never get over THAT. It just hurts too much - and I don't want to lose-it right in front of you.

"But what I DO want to talk about is payback. Can I offer you a beer and you can help me concoct a plan to end both of them? Are you up for that?"

She stood to attention in all her curvy glory and gave me a British Navy salute - where she got that from I don't know – and said, "Aye-aye skipper!!"

So for most of the night we drank beer and plotted revenge. Her presence was like a pharmacy full of happy pills. She was the essence of what differentiates women from men, nurturing, soothing, supporting and perfectly tender.

She also had a really sick and devious little mind. 

It was Kari who remembered that my wife's work laptop might still be plugged into their office network. Janet never turns anything off. And if she was still logged in we had access through the rat to everything the Senator had on his server. Given the shape that Janet was in when she left last night, good security hygiene might not have been at the top of her list. 

I went into the cabin, activated the rat and sure enough. The esteemed Senator's life was an open book. So I downloaded all of his personal files to a portable hard drive. There was so much in the download that it took the better part of two hours over the LTE connection. But I wasn't going to sleep anyway. 

That information would give me some prime stuff to pick through tomorrow. As soon as the download was complete I wiped the rats. I didn't want any of my NSA cohorts discovering how the classified information we had vacuumed up got leaked. 

I told Kari to go out on the deck so she could have plausible deniability. She looked at me like I had lost my mind and said with some heat, "Where you go, I go." I think she was channeling Braveheart. 

It was close to 3:00 AM now and I could see that even my lovely little Energizer Bunny was starting to wear down. So I said, "Let's get some sleep. There is a cuddy forward that you can lie down in. Just pull the curtain. I'll sleep out here in the cabin on the couch. 

She said, "No way buster! You are far too long for that couch. Let's just lie down in there together. I promise I'll respect your virtue." That was accompanied by a lascivious smile. 

I said, "Seriously my hot blooded little friend. It will be forever before I will ever be able to touch another woman." 

For a second she looked almost hurt. Then she brightened and said, "Of course you big goof. I understand how difficult this must be for you. I know that you loved her and I know that this must be ripping your heart out at the roots. 

"I am here as your friend and I want to comfort you. Just feel my body next to yours and realize that you are not alone." 

I slept in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt she wore a long t-shirt and I assumed panties underneath. I lay on my back. She lay on her side facing away from me and then as she made herself comfortable she snuggled those hard little buns up against me. 

She is a paradox. But a lovely one. She may be tiny but she is also solid, wide and substantial. We drifted off to sleep. And astonishingly I slept without difficulty for several hours. She DID make a difference.

I awoke with the sun shining through the deck prisms. I was turned on my right side spooned with Kari. My left arm completely enveloped her little body. And I was holding one of her massive tits in my left hand. Worse, her naked butt was snuggled against my rapidly growing hard-on. Which was slowly making its way between her ass cheeks. She was pushing back softly and moaning in her sleep.

Yikes!! - I very quickly untangled myself from her and bolted out of bed. She muttered a sleepy complaint then went back to sawing logs. 

I shot straight out of the cuddy and rushed to the head. I thought with anguish. "What the fuck are you DOING? You've lost the love of your life and you are already snuggling up to that hot little number– are you REALLY that shallow?" 

Then I thought to myself Kari has been my sidekick and best pal for such a long time that everybody calls her my "work wife." She is just a familiar and sympathetic face that's all. 

And you need human connection to keep you from going nuts. 

I know she is hot. Hell!! The whole world knows she's hot. But she is a good person and she was just trying to comfort me. She would never do anything to make your current situation worse.

Both of us were aware of the fact that there was an incredible amount of emotional trauma in front of me. And there was no way I would dishonor my marriage or my own dignity by being intimate with another woman before that was all sorted out – even somebody as stunningly attractive and wonderfully companionable as Kari. 

So I chalked-up what had occurred to unfortunate happenstance and nothing more.

Plus, Kari was ten years younger than me, really just a kid. She was not ready to be anybody's woman. The fact that she was willing to give up her clearly very active sex life was a tribute to her compassionate nature and her dedication to me as her friend and mentor. 

That thought reminded me why I was sitting on a boat rather than at home. There was no explanation for what I had witnessed – except Old Testament style adultery. So, as much as I needed and wanted Janet – and I still did - I knew that she was out of my life. 

It is a myth that love lasts forever. Love only lasts as long as the conditions that shaped and nurtured it exist. One fundamental condition for sustaining love is unquestioned trust. And the certainty of sexual exclusiveness is the lynchpin of that trust. 

A man's need to pass along his DNA is atavistic. Woman know who the mother is. But by the nature of their role, men can't have that same kind of assurance. So they HAVE to trust in their wife's pledge to engage in sex only with them – and them alone. That is the point of the "forsaking all others" part of the vows. 

A guy might get past a "heat of the moment" onetime mistake. But the idea of your wife fucking another man on demand – probably for months – simply violates every aspect of the marriage covenant. That behavior might even be understandable but it was just not pardonable. And as a result my love for Janet had vanished as if she had thrown a switch. 

I would regret her loss until the day I died. But I was not bonded to her any more. The only issue was how to end the marriage in a way that inflicted the maximum amount of pain on Senator Douchebag.

Any Port in a Storm 

I was sitting in the cockpit looking out over the Occoquan marshes when Kari came out on deck. It was another beautiful day. I handed her coffee in a heavy ceramic mug. 

She has a thick cap of white blond hair that she wears short. It might make a bigger woman look a little dykey. But on her it was adorable. 

She is cuter than a basket full of kittens. That is until you take a REAL look at her. Then you see the absolute perfection of her features and the uncanny size and depth of those green feline eyes. 

Her eyes are like a hentai schoolgirl's, huge and seemingly innocent. But if she allows you to look into them – I mean really LOOK into them - you see flashes of profound female wisdom. I have no idea how she got so wise, so young. 

I said, "Good morning my dear little co-conspirator. I trust you slept well?" 

She dimpled fetchingly. Kari's face is round and apple-cheeked. She looks like the archetypal "head-cheerleader" - blond and fair skinned with two deep dimples in her cheeks next to her wide sensual mouth. The dimples appear any time she smiles and they only add to the impression of her all-American-girl wholesomeness. 

Janet - on the other hand - has a gorgeous, exotic, dark Mediterranean loveliness - with the high cheekbones of a classic beauty. And Janet has probably never looked innocent in her life.

Kari said, "I had the most wonderful dream just before I woke up. Do we need to talk about that?"

I said, "Maybe later. I want to talk about something much more satisfying first. And that is – war to the knife with the illustrious Senator Simpson. I need your thoughts about that."

She said, "Can I see what precipitated the crisis? Or is it too difficult for you to share? I think I can give you better advice if I have situational awareness." 

I know that her terminology sounded corny. But when she is on task Kari tends to talk like the top flight intelligence analyst that she is.

I said, "It's teed up on the laptop in the cabin. But it is pretty raw stuff. It kills me to see it but I know those videos represent a lot of potential hurt for the participants. The only question is how to use it."

She said, "Let me take a look while you sit out here plotting your dire revenge."

She came out of the cabin forty-five minutes later. She had been crying. She just stood there wringing her hands and looking at me. She said, "I am soooo sorry Paul. That must have been horrible." 

Then she added, "I am even sorrier for Janet."

What was THAT? I thought that after witnessing Janet's slut behavior Kari would want to help me pile the firewood underneath the stake.

She said, "I don't know why your wife is fucking that creep. But it is obviously killing her to do it. As a woman I can attest that she is not giving herself to him willingly."

I said with disgust, "Have we watched the same video? She had at least two big-time orgasms and she seemed to be having the time-of-her-life. That isn't to mention her gobbling his cock on Wednesday and the little desk job she gave him on Thursday."

Kari looked at me angrily and said, "Grow up!" That was the first time she had EVER spoken to me in anything but respectful tones. 

She said, "Your wife has been broken by this guy. She does what she is told even though she hates it. And she clearly hates HIM. The fact that she happened to get off a couple of times is just what happens when you are being fucked. 

"I've had monster orgasms riding on a motorcycle. It doesn't mean that I'm in love with the bike, or the guy driving it.

"I don't know how it happened and what his hold is on her. But she was no more eager to do the things I saw her doing than a hooker with a client. She just does it. 

"I'm not saying this to get you two back together or even to get you to forgive her. All I am doing is giving you the sit-rep. And I am telling you that the real culprit here is her boss."

I said, "Well I DO agree with you about THAT and I have a couple of ideas. But I am going to have to get to a quiet place with stronger Wi-Fi. Did Janet buy the secret agent story?"

Kari laughed and said, "She hated it but she bought it. She said that you were going to have a lot of 'splainin to do when you got back. 

"Honestly - I think she thought that you were sneaking off to have an affair of your own."

I said, "So nobody will be looking for me on Monday – right"?

She said, "Not anybody official at least."

I said, "I'm going to drop you off at the Marina. Your car is there - correct? Then you can drive back to your place today and be at work bright and early tomorrow." 

She looked like she was going to argue. I said reasonably, "Kari, you have to do this I don't want any changes in routine and if both of us were missing it might make somebody suspicious. Plus I want you well out of the blast radius."

She said, "I'll do it but only because what you are saying makes sense. On the other hand, if you need me you had better call me. Or I am going to hunt you down and do awful things to you."

I put her ashore at the marina dock. She was standing there watching me motor back out into the bay. Then she turned and trudged toward her car. The last I saw of her was that glowing cap of hair. 

I had plenty of time to think going back up the river. I can get close to 10 knots out of the old girl on the diesels. So with the throttles wide open the trip back to the James Creek Marina only took about three and a half hours. 

After I had gotten the boat properly tied up I walked across V Street and picked up my car. 

There was nobody around. Of course it was a Sunday morning so there wouldn't be. I took South Capitol across the Anacostia to 295. And that to the Beltway. Thence back across the Potomac and to U.S. 1 through Alexandria to the Hilton Alexandria Old Town and checked in. 

I had been living on a boat in the same clothes for almost two days and so my first visit was to the "Banana Republic" clothing store down King Street and the next stop was to grab some toiletries. After I had showered and shaved and dressed in my new preppy duds I was feeling halfway normal again. 

Then I sat down with my laptop to - as my daddy used to put it - "Get down to the rat killin'."

Revenge is a purifying emotion. It gives you focus and direction. I wasn't thinking about how much I was hurting now. My mind was focused on concocting ever-more-creative ways to make the object of my hatred miserable. 

I knew at a minimum that the video evidence would be difficult to explain to his fundamentalist constituency - as well as his wife. But just posting it on the internet, or giving it to Gold, wouldn't be hands-on enough. I needed to have some fun first. 

I realized that my compulsion to confront the guy was childish. But the son-of-a-bitch had despoiled my wife and ruined my life. And I wanted him to get the same sense of hopelessness and desolation that was my new reality.




Cat in the Rain



So I was compelled to look the motherfucker in the eye as I explained his predicament to him. I wanted to watch his horror as the jaws of the trap closed. I had to see him in the moment when he knew that there was no way out - and I wanted to watch him rage against that knowledge 

But in order to maximize his pain I had to find out everything that I could about his miserable life.

I am not as good as Kari with all of those wired gadgets – she was raised in that generation. But I have a track record that proves that I am better than anybody at analytic tradecraft. So I cracked open the personal files that we had pulled off his server. 

I was hoping that a day with Senator Dickhead's most intimate secrets might prove informative.

His server automatically backed up its clients. So, although the dumbass religiously erased the stuff on his own computer, there was a backup copy of all of his personal comings-and-goings sitting on his office hard drive. That was what we had downloaded. 

And since the good Senator couldn't even spell encryption let alone practice it, his entire criminal enterprise was right there in easy to read plaintext. 

It didn't take very long to see that he was running a classic pay-to-play scheme that was worthy of the Mayor's Office in Detroit. 

Only a self-important, over-entitled douchebag, with no concept of accountability would keep evidence of actions that blatantly corrupt on a computer. But the good Senator appeared to think that he could do anything that he wanted without repercussions. 

I suppose if you sat in the rarified atmosphere of the Senate you might see things that way. But it was hubris plain-and-simple. And as a result, the Senator was about to discover that there are ALWAYS consequences for your acts.

I am a tiny, unimportant David. And Senator Dickhead probably thought that he was an invincible Goliath – particularly with the power and majesty of the entire Federal Government backing him. But the virtual world changes the rules of engagement. And in that world - the right person with the right technology can bring ANYBODY down.

By bed time I had assembled a digest of things for Gold to follow-up on. Those revelations might actually earn him that Pulitzer. The dossier had detailed accounts of names, times, services rendered, and amounts. It also had the account numbers and credentials for the places where the good Senator had buried his booty. 

Along with that irrefutable proof of corruption - I also included a stirring high definition video starring the Senator's hairy ass and a woman whose face was pixeled out. 

The record of the kickbacks were the criminal acts. Those would eventually get the Senator sent to prison. But there is nothing like a juicy scandal to get the vultures circling right away. And the Post wouldn't have to have independent confirmation to go with the graphic video I was providing.

I put it all on two thumb drives and put THOSE in an envelope. I would give that to Gold tomorrow. But first I really had to watch Senator Fuckface squirm. 

Kari believed that he had been the architect of Janet's downfall. So I wanted him to experience – if even for a short time - what it was like to live in emotional hell. 

He was constantly surrounded by personal security and toadies. So I would have to flush him out of cover first. The best way to accomplish THAT was to make him an offer that he couldn't say "no" to. 

I figured he wouldn't want witnesses around as we discussed a topic as politically toxic as him fucking my wife. So I took a short clip of the exciting climax of their little tryst - this time with Janet's face uncovered - and sent it to his personal e-mail account. 

I was pretty sure THAT revelation would upset the Congressman's petit-dejeuner tomorrow. And I was hoping that Janet might be the one screening his messages. That would give me a twofer. 

Of course I didn't want any involvement with my friends at Fort Meade. So I sent the message using the TOR browser bundle. I hopped it through enough nodes that the Senator's boys would be trying to figure out how the Bratva had gotten involved. 

Just to turbo-up that deception - I included a message in bad English. It said, "Gospodin, Very bad boy you are – we need to conversation NOW – please come Monday 2 PM to National Mall... on wall sit closest to Memorial to Director Lincoln. No bringing Militsya you bad boy."

I was about to snap off the light when I had the urge to call Kari. I wanted to hear her voice. 

The phone kept ringing and I was about to hang up when she answered. She sounded out of breath. 

I said, "Oh my God!! Did I interrupt something?" 

She said, "It's okay. I'm glad you called. Are you all right?"

I said, "I'm really sorry that I rang this late. But can we meet tomorrow at 11:00 at the King Street Metro Station in Alexandria? I'll fill you in on some new developments. Now go back to what, or whoever, you were doing."

She snickered and said, "His wait will be well worth it." I was laughing as I hung up. I thought, "What a woman!!"

I dozed off feeling better. I was going to ruin the mother-fucker. But first I was going to watch him twist. 

Janet was also in for the same kind of bad news. And for some reason that made me sad. 

Her betrayal had created two realities for me. I wanted to brand both cheeks of her big beautiful ass with a scarlet "A". And then whip her naked down Pennsylvania Avenue. But I also had all of the residual feelings of loving connection that we had built up over the last ten years. 

In everything but one indefensible thing she had been a perfect wife, friend and lover. 

Those recollected emotions were neatly walled off in another part of my psyche, relatively untouched by my present pain. I was pretty sure that Janet had never meant to hurt me. But it didn't change the fact that I was alone and bereft thanks to her actions. 

Tomorrow I was going to settle the score with Senator Dickbreath. And that was keeping me going. I knew that once that was done and my divorce from Janet managed – and THAT would be harrowing for sure - I was looking at a pretty godforsaken life. 

I was waiting for Kari at the exit from the Metro. I was trying to tell myself that I needed her help. But I couldn't kid myself. I just plain needed her. She had become a lot more than my partner in crime and battle buddy. She was a one woman security blanket – the single human being I knew I could trust and totally rely on. 

She emerged from a Blue line train at exactly 11:00. I was standing on the other side of the automated turnstiles as she came through looking around for me. She was dressed in her usual tight jeans and heels but she was wearing a v-necked sweater instead of a t-shirt. That revealed a couple of yards of deep cleavage and it made her look older for a change.

Every guy following her was checking out the twitching of her little round ass and people in front of me were watching her huge jugs bounce as she strode along. She seemed concerned. 

Then when she saw me her face lit up and she walked rapidly toward me, jiggling all the way. She looked cool, composed, intelligent and totally in command. 

I said, "I'm very sorry that I interrupted your fun last night. I should have been more considerate of the time. It was just that I put something else in play that I need your help with. I know I told you that I wanted you out of it. But I can't do this by myself."

As we walked out of the station she grabbed my arm merrily and crushed it against her massive left tit. 

She said breezily, "That was just a little sport-fuck. After the way you wound me up the night before I needed to let off some steam."

I said, "I beg your pardon??!!"

She said, "Oh don't worry about it. I know you didn't do it on purpose. But the lustful urges that you inspired in me while we were spooning had to get worked off somehow." And she gave me one of her dimpled smiles.

I gawked at her astonished. She ignored that completely and kept talking. She said, "What's the status of Operation Fuck-the-Senator?"

I said, "Can you take the rest of the day off?"

She said coquettishly, "You're my boss. Can I?" 

I said, "Call in and tell them that you are tracking something down and you will be in tomorrow. I don't want my disappearance to get connected to yours." She said, "Gottcha!" and dialed.

We walked across the Diagonal Road next to the Station and into Joe Theismann's. The lunch crowd was just starting up and so we got a seat right away. 

I ran through what I had discovered. 

She said, "What an idiot. If you are going to do something THAT corrupt you ought to keep the evidence locked in a safe like they used to do in Mayor Daly's day. Not just out in the open where anybody can get at it."

I said, "That's self-evident to somebody from your generation. But remember that this guy is old and he isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Plus he fears no evil - because he's the meanest mother-fucker in the valley."

She dimpled. That face is infectious. I had to keep reminding myself that Kari was off-limits, at least until I got my marriage sorted out. It wasn't a matter of her smoking hot body, or that face. It was just the total package of tough, intelligent femininity. She made me feel confident.

She said, "What do you need me to do?" 

I said, "The guy is meeting me at the reflecting pool. Except he doesn't know who he is going to meet. I just want to look him in the eye as I tell him about all the things that are going to happen to him. 

"But I need you to spot for me while I am doing it. I have no idea what he plans to do about what I sent him. But he might bring friends. And so I want somebody to watch my back and alert me if trouble is coming." 

We spent the rest of the lunch hour carefully choreographing our plan and then we parted company. I didn't want to take the slightest chance of exposing her. 

The Senator showed up at 2:05 and sat on the decorative wall next to the reflecting pool on the Lincoln Memorial side of the Mall. He looked very ill at ease. In fact he looked terrified – good! 

I thought I would let him stew for a while.

Kari was sitting with her back to the marble baluster at the second set of steps up to the memorial. She had a camera on a tripod in front of her. 

She looked like the world's hottest school girl, taking pictures of the National Mall through a 300 mm lens. 

But what she was really doing was using the telephoto to scan for problems. There was an open link between my cell phone - which was in my shirt pocket - and hers. She would squawk a warning if she saw something. 

He was sitting on the part of the wall facing down the reflecting pool toward the Capitol. There were some tourists in the general vicinity but there was nobody close enough to overhear. 

I thought to myself, "In for a penny – in for a pound."

I was standing on the grass behind him when I said, "Good afternoon Senator Simpson. Can I join you?"

He whipped around like he was in the desert and he had just heard a rattle behind him. I was standing there looking neutral – not angry – not happy. I was intentionally situated so that he would have to hold a stress position in order to look at me. That was planned.

I could see that he knew me but couldn't place me. 

I just stared at him for another minute. 

Finally I could see the recognition dawn on him. 

He said, "You're Janet Schmidt's husband!!" I walked around the edge of the wall and sat down beside him. I said, "Bingo!! The very one!!"

I could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid that I was going to lay some well-deserved physical hurt on him. Well I wasn't. What I had planned was going to be a lot more prolonged and satisfying agony than a swift kick in the nuts. 

Politics is all about the image. And thanks to me his trip from the penthouse to the outhouse was going to be on the express elevator.

I said, "Yes indeed I am Janet's husband - and I would like to tell you about the situation that you find yourself in. I have a lot more graphic stuff than the clip that I sent you. It is clearly you so there is no way you can deny it. And it is NOT the kind of thing you will want to see on YouTube." I made the same MAAAAAing noise that he had made as he came in Janet's mouth the week before.

He said angrily, "How did you get those pictures?" 

I said, "That's none of your business. What YOU care about is what I am going to DO with them."

He looked at me speculatively and said, "How much?"

The guy was a really sleazy ball of shit. He thought that I had pimped Janet out to shake him down for blackmail. That nearly DID earn him a rap in the mouth. But I had to stay cool. He was toast – I just had to finish telling him about that.

I said, "Here's what's going to happen. First, I am going to give all of this to the guy at the Post who is investigating you for his story on moral turpitude in the Senate. Then he is going to publish it. 

"And at the same time, I am going to create a website called "Senators Gone Wild." I have been recording you for some time. So it will feature the stuff that you've already seen plus a whole lot more. I'm certain that between Janet's beauty, and all of the graphic sex it will draw millions of visitors. Maybe it will go viral and I'll make a bundle."

He looked horrified. He spluttered, "But you can't do THAT!! Think of what you will be doing to the Country, think of my constituents."

I laughed out loud. I said, "I AM thinking about the Country and your constituents. They will probably want to know what the voice of Family Values is doing for them in Washington. I am also sure that your esteemed colleagues in the Senate would like to find out what you have been up to." 

That entire body is like a cackle of Hyenas – they'd tear a wounded member of the pack to shreds. 

He absorbed all of that. There was a pause as the implications sank in. 

And then he dropped his face into his hands and began to blubber. That was a satisfying surprise. He was an even bigger candy-ass than I thought he was. But witnessing his public breakdown WAS gratifying – it mirrored the private one that I had when I discovered the reality of my OWN situation. 

I said with a sneer, "Man-up you raging pussy!! You're crying just like my wife did after you fucked her last Friday night. Oh and about Janet. If you tell her about any of this before I get the pleasure of doing it myself there are some additional things that I can do to you that you are going to absolutely hate." 

Then I smiled patronizingly and said, "But unlike you I am a decent guy. So I am going to let you fall-on-your-sword in true corrupt DC fashion. I will let you resign your Office to spend more time with your family. If you do that in the next 24 hours I won't hand this to the Post."

He looked at me eagerly and said, "You'll let me do that?" 

It would save a lot of his bacon back home if he resigned in good standing. Rather than being outed as the debased piece of shit that he actually was. 

I said, "Like I said – I'm a decent guy."

I had absolutely no intention of doing anything other than putting his wretched morals in the global spotlight. But it would give our conversation a-hell-of-a-lot more impact when he found out that I was as crooked as he was.

He stood, took my hand in both of hi, in that classic politician's grasp, and shook it with eager gratitude. He actually said with tears in his eyes, "Thank you!!" And then he turned and headed off down the reflecting pool. He was beaten but as yet unbowed. The next 24 hours would change that status for him - a lot. 

I called Gold and asked him to meet me at the Madison for a midafternoon drink. It is right up the street from the Post. Kari was sitting with me at a booth in the bar area when he came in. I rose and we shook hands. I said, "You remember my associate Kari Whitman?" 

He gave her the same appreciative once-over that every guy does and said, "Of COURSE I remember." 

At least he was honest. 

I handed him the envelope and told him in very general terms what was on the two thumb drives. I said, "I have to apologize to you. My wife WAS having an affair with Senator Simpson all of the evidence is on THIS drive and I handed him the first one." 

Last night I had put together a fifteen minute collection of Janet's greatest hits. It killed me to relive it. But I wanted to control what Gold saw. Nevertheless, even 15 minutes of what I gave Gold was enough to end the Senator's career. 

Then I held up the other drive. I said, "This has all of the documentation of a multi-million dollar pay-to-play scheme that the Senator has been running since he took over the Chairmanship. The details are all there. Even by Washington standards it's corrupt.

"This was stolen off his hard-drive so you will have to confirm it from other sources. But the trails that your investigators need to follow and the rabbit holes to look down are all clearly marked. I am sure the Post has the resources to dig this up ASAP." 

Gold looked at me with wonder. He said, "If what you are saying is true this will be the political story of the year. And the good Senator is doomed. I won't ask how you got it. But I CAN congratulate you. This is dynamite stuff." 

I said, "The information I just handed you was Kari's doing. She is the genius behind all of that." 

The little exhibitionist was in the process of showing Gold her tits all the way down to her black bra. But she dimpled with thanks as she did it. He tore his eyes away from her cleavage and looked at me with gratitude. He said, "What can I do for YOU?" 

I said, "Well first of all you can keep Janet out of this as much as you can. She is a victim and I want her protected." 

Gold said, "Even though she cheated on you?" 

I said, "I want to be fair. She ripped my beating heart out of my chest. But that's personal. When you publish this stuff the shit is going to hit the fan in ways that I can't even imagine up on Capitol Hill. She doesn't deserve to suffer those consequences. She might have cheated. And that is bad enough. But she is not a criminal."

We shook hands and Gold departed. Kari looked at me with wonder and said, "That was really decent of you. What next?" 

I sighed and said, "I'm going to go home now to face the music."

She looked concerned and said. "Do you need anything from me – can I do anything for you?"

I said, "This is a battle I have to fight alone. I imagine that this is going to all play out over the next 24 hours. I might see you at work day-after-tomorrow."

Kari said, with a funny sounding voice, "She is going to expect you to fuck her. Are you going to do that?" 

I faked a cough and said, "Dengue fever, or perhaps its Ebola – at any rate I am too sick to touch her. By tomorrow it'll all be a moot point anyhow."

As we parted company Kari stood on her tiptoes and gave me the sweetest kiss on the cheek. For a change she looked downright unhappy. She said, "Be brave Boss. I will always be available if you need me. Call me any time."

I looked at her beautiful little sad and worried face and said, "You'll be the first person I'll call. And I will never forget what you have done for me."

Janet wasn't home when I got back. I changed into my most comfortable clothes, jeans and a flannel shirt, and did a little prep work. Then I sat waiting for her in the den. I had the fatal clip teed up on the laptop in front of me. 

She arrived around 7:00 carrying Chinese take-out from Kitchen No. 1. She put the bag on the table in the foyer and went straight upstairs. 

She came back 15 minutes later in her standard around-the-house outfit, yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt. 

She picked up the bag and walked toward the kitchen looking preoccupied. She saw me sitting in the den, gave a little gasp and a look of absolute joy spread across her face. She dropped the bag and ran toward me. I stood up. She threw her arms around me and gave me a big kiss. I had not said anything to that point. I was too full of emotion.