34 comments/ 42130 views/ 32 favorites Up in Michigan By: dtiverson I understand why people read the Loving Wives genre (betrayal and revenge are an emotional turn-on). But a lot of its stories border on the misogynistic (look it up cowboy). So, I thought I'd take a stab at writing a genuine, non-cynical "loving wife" tale - just as a change of pace. The Hemingway short story with the same title may have been the first (on this topic) by a well-known author. It was so controversial that he waited 17 years before widely publishing it. Now – take a gander around this site and tell me how times have changed... Enjoy and please keep the comments coming - DT ***** Okay – I admit it. I have fantasies. In all of them I am tall and athletic, devilishly handsome, a successful entrepreneur and rich as Croesus. And of course I would have a smooth and easy way with the ladies. In reality I am none of that. I am average height, average weight, I have never been good at any sport and I was always the wingman for my socially adept friends. So, I got nothing but the leftovers after the alpha dogs had eaten. The term "leftover" more-or-less describes my first failed attempt at shedding the curse of virginity. I was at a sorority mixer when I saw this brown haired mutt. She was standing on the other side of the room looking as ill at ease as I felt. Neither of us were coupled up. So I gravitated toward her – misery loves company. She was ordinary height, brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes, olive complexion. There was nothing distinguishing about her face or figure. She was just "brown." I said, "HI "and leaned against the wall facing her. She said, "Hi." And for an uncomfortable period we just stood there staring at the people dancing. My brain was yelling, "Say something you idiot!! But I couldn't think of anything to say." In the meantime she was looking creeped-out. Inspiration hit and I said, "My name's Peter, like the Saint, not the bunny rabbit." My lame attempt at witty. The fact that she didn't run screaming from the scene indicated how desperate she was. She looked at me and said, "Suzie." She DID have pretty dark-brown eyes. We stood there for another uncomfortable length of time. I finally said, "Would you like to dance." I'm spastic on the dance floor- but it was all I had at that point. She said, "I'm sorry but I don't dance." A woman who didn't dance? Unheard of!! What was she REALLY doing here? We stood for another painful period. She said, "Would you like to get some fresh air? I can't hear myself think." Wow!! That was a breakthrough. I said, "Sure" – okay, not suave - and we walked out onto the porch. It was summer and hot outside but it was tropical inside the party. So the night air felt cool and refreshing. She had on the classic Bermuda shorts and spaghetti strap top that was popular with girls back then. I was wearing an old pair of cut off blue jeans and a ratty t-shirt. My standard uniform. I was desperately trying to think of something to say. So I tried the usual conversational gambit for us students, "So what are you studying?" She said, "Nothing. I'm a townie. Bill Wirt brought me. But he took off with his buddies and left me by myself." Wirt was one of the overentitled douchebags who made us peasants miserable. I thought to myself, "Wirt brought her???!! She must have some hidden talent?" I blurted, "Well I would never leave you at a party. You are way too pretty." I didn't exactly mean that but she was starting to grow on me. What I got were puppy-dog eyes. She said, "Do you really mean that." I lied, "Of course I do. I wouldn't leave a hot chick like you lying around." She said rather defensively, "How do you know I'm hot? Who have you been talking to?!!" Okay –that was a little unexpected. I dithered a bit and said, "Nobody – you're just hot looking – that's all." I was starting to synch with her. She must have felt the same vibe because she melted a bit and said, "I work at the Loft. You should drop in some time." I felt like I might be edging up on my first real score. She was not a movie star. But neither was I. She radiated the total lack of sophistication that was my stock in trade. But she also gave off a subtle hint of sexuality. It was the classic Catch-22. I hadn't actually had grown-up sex yet. But I was very eager to try. I just needed to hook-up with a girl who was experienced enough to know how to do it. But not so experienced that a twenty year old virgin wouldn't interest her. This girl looked like she met both criteria. I was mulling that over when she began to lean toward me with those bedroom eyes and we kissed. It was electric. She moaned, her mouth opened and we swapped tongues for several seconds. This was getting hot. We broke for a second just staring at each other. Both of us panting like bloodhounds on a Georgia porch. I was absolutely certain that I was about to score. That was when Bill Wirt reappeared. He said with scorn in his voice, "Suzie – what the hell are you doing out here?" and pulled her to him by the waist. He didn't even notice her breathlessness. Which was probably fortunate for both of us since he was a starting linebacker on the football team. He was huge!! He added looking angrily down at her, "I spend a little time with my friends and you just wander off. If you want to be with ME you had better watch your behavior bitch." Now - the person I wished I was would have wrestled the guy to his knees and forced him to apologize for being such an asshole. Instead I just stood there looking blank. I am not aggressive and I have no instincts that way. I thought that Suzie looked humiliated. But she immediately turned and said to Wirt, "What was I supposed to do when you left me standing there for an hour?" He said, "I had some business to attend to. And I expect you to wait for me while I'm doing it." I had a pretty good idea what that business actually WAS. Because a bit earlier I had seen him go past me toward the parking lot with a thoroughly wasted Becky Almendinger. Maybe he planned to rush her to the hospital to have her checked for alcohol poisoning. Or maybe he spent an hour fucking her in somebody's back seat. Who knew? At any rate Suzie turned to Frodo Douchbaggins and said, "I was just talking to Peter while you were gone. It was no big deal." It was heartening to discover that I was, "No big deal." He looked at me and sneered, "Stay away from my woman - or you and I will have something to talk about." He was a half foot taller. I didn't think it was world politics. So I just stared. Then he turned and jammed his hand down the back of Suzie's shorts, and more-or-less hoisted her back into the party by her left butt-cheek. She went along uncomplainingly. My alter-ego would have had the asshat in a hammerlock pleading for mercy at that point. But I actually just stood there looking disapproving. A disapproving stare was the best I could come up with at the point. As I watched them disappear I was suddenly pretty sure what her hidden talent was. That suspicion was confirmed while I was upstairs taking a piss. Suzi's discarded top was lying on the hall floor and there were moans, shrieks, grunts, and wild cries of passion emanating from the nearest bedroom. The object lesson was well-made and needless to say I didn't see Suzie again. Meanwhile, I had finally taken care of my little virginity problem. It was almost the same situation. I was at one of those outdoor bashes in a local park. It was an event that the Greeks sometimes threw in the late summer. I was dateless as usual. The party itself was being conducted from the back of a keg loaded F150. Which was parked in a lot next to a field. The whole area was surrounded by a very thick woods. I was wandering-around drunkenly amongst the trees out there. That was mainly because I was fed up watching the men and women of Phi Alpha and Lambda Tau getting hammered. Getting totally shitfaced was such a weekly ritual with our student body that it made me wonder how the university had gotten its sterling academic reputation. So, I thought that it might be interesting to see what was back in the woods. Boredom loneliness and the foamy substance that they were handing out off the back of the pickup contributed to my curiosity. At any rate, I was stumbling aimlessly around among the trees when I encountered a female form. It looked like a sorority chick had crawled off into the underbrush to die. She was sprawled on her back on a soft bed of pine needles and leafy debris lying underneath one of the trees. The vision was eerily reminiscent of the dead soldier scene from the Red Badge of Courage. She was wearing a classic sun dress. And in her passing out she had managed to ruck the hem of the dress so far up that it was like she had nothing on from the waist down except a thong. I walked over and peered down to see if she was really dead. It was curiosity more than anything else. You don't see a sight like that every day. I had no intention of doing anything more depraved than scoping out her bare legs and panty clad mound. And - yes - I know I'm a pervert. I'm a guy. At that point the body moaned drunkenly. And I squatted down to check her condition – not exactly Galahad but at least I was concerned. As I did she opened her eyes, gazed blearily at me and muttered, "Who're you???" I was about to answer her when she said in a decisive voice, "Oh well!! You'll do!!" And she grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me down on top of her. I was flabbergasted. Like I said, I am not a man of action. She put her feet behind my knees and started violently humping her very hot pussy against my rapidly growing package which was only clad in a bathing suit. She obviously could feel it because she let out a loud groan of sheer lust and in one motion yanked old Lucifer out of the side of my speedos, pulled her thong aside and in probably five seconds I was buried to the hilt in a very hot and slippery slice of heaven. The feeling of sliding up into her was exquisite to say the least. That was the reason why I almost instantly came. She, in the meantime, had thrown both arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist pinning me to her. That all happened as I was still frenziedly cumming inside her. She bucked violently for another couple of seconds. Both of us uttering loud groans. Then she moaned and started to quiver and shake underneath me while her legs drummed frantically on the ground. By the time I had reassured myself that this was a normal - if slightly over-the-top - reaction for a female, she was back to her out cold state. I honestly tried to wake her up but she was totally passed out now, with her legs spread wide. I didn't need to ask what the white sticky stuff oozing out of her was. I didn't know who she was and I was frankly a little dazed from my first sexual experience and of course I was pretty-much wasted. My noble alter-ego would have stayed and gotten her some help. But she actually looked peaceful lying there. So instead I stood up, closing her legs, and pulled her dress down. I'm a gentleman after all. Then I stumbled back to the party for a refill. I never saw her again. I can't even remember what she looked like. And for all I know there is a little Peter Ostrovski running around out there somewhere. But that first pathetic instance of questionable sexual ethics – and I am not sure who was exactly at fault – opened the floodgates. I must have banged half the ugly girls on campus before I graduated. I was not interested in building up my social-cred. I was just interested in duplicating the experience. And frankly all cats are grey in the dark. So, homely pussy and gorgeous pussy felt exactly the same to me - except the homely ones might have been a little less "well used". In fact I have always thought that the less popular girls gave a much more inspired and grateful performance. And you can really perfect your technique with some practice. At least I got no complaints. I graduated without distinction from the Ross School of Business in Ann Arbor. And I took my MBA down the road and put it to work at Ford. I then proceeded to spend five long years in the godforsaken wasteland of cubicle-world. It was a prairie dog town of perhaps 500 souls, all running in our own little six by eight foot wheels. All of us were packed into one massive room. But at least I had worked my way up to an "office" that was eight by ten. It was a sign of favor and advancement in our anonymous universe. I also drove a cobalt blue Mustang GT. The "A" Plan was one of the perks of working at Ford. That car made me feel a little less faceless and more like hot shit. Hence, one fine Friday I was sitting around after work with some of my fellow galley slaves. We were on the outdoor patio at Andiamos. I lived in a condo down Garrison Street from Andiamos. It was an easy jaunt back to my place. So, I could drink as much as I wanted on a Friday night without worrying about a long drive home. There were some new people in the group. That always happens because Ford is a big place and people come and go. As I was seating myself I glanced across the table at a girl I hadn't seen before. She had a thick mane of red hair. And she had the milky complexion and upturned nose of the definitive Irish Colleen, freckles and all. Her laughing emerald cat's eyes were regarding me with both humor and intelligence. She was not big or little, somewhere in the five foot six inch range. And beside the fact that she looked so distinctively Irish, there was nothing else exceptional about her. Nevertheless, I was riveted by those bright green eyes. My buddy Mary, who worked with me on our unit's tiger-team, was sitting next to her. She said, "Peter, meet Janet McCarthy. She is over in customer management and she and I have been working together on the new interface." Mary then turned and went back to chatting with the guy who was sitting next to her - duty done. I didn't get the impression that this was pure chance. So I said something debonair, like "Hi" and lapsed back into my usual shy silence, just looking at her. Several seconds passed and finally she said sarcastically, "Like what you see?" I said, "I'm sorry. You are so beautiful that you make me tongue tied." That statement evoked a smile that was pure Connemara on a bright and sunny spring day. She said flirtatiously, "So I'll take that as a yes." I said with conviction in my voice, "That is most definitely a yes." The room was a buzz of conversation so I said, "I want to talk but I can't hear with all of this noise. Have you eaten? I know a place that makes the world's best hamburgers if you want me to show you." That got another delightful smile. She really had a wide sensual mouth. And she said, "I would love to get something to eat with you. "I hate situations like this. I only came because Mary told me that she had a hot guy that she wanted me to meet. "Since I don't see him here, I guess I'll leave with you." Ouch!! The sardonic tilt to her mouth told me that she was kidding. I hoped. I took her to Millers Bar, which was near my place and, indeed, serves the world's best hamburgers. We talked for hours and drank several pitchers. To say the least we were compatible. And I knew right then-and-there in my heart that I was going to marry her. I have no idea why I was so sure. But I was certain about that. It was something in the way we connected. It just felt right. Neither of us was in any shape to drive so we left the Mustang parked in Miller's parking lot and lurched the four blocks back to my place. I would like to say we shared a night of passion but we both more-or-less passed out. I woke up in the dawn's early light in a puddle of drool. And I was crosswise on the couch. She had managed to stagger into my bedroom and was lying face first on the bed fully clothed. I covered her with a duvet while scoping out her body. She was slim with fragile looking shoulders tiny waist, narrow hips, beautiful ass and long absolutely gorgeous slim muscular legs. The legs were revealed up to her panties. That was because her short work skirt had migrated up to the swell of her big round butt cheeks. Her thick copper hair ended right between her shoulder blades. And even after a night of wretched excess it looked as lovely as it was the minute I laid eyes on her. I figured that kind of perfect hair must be something that God gave the Irish to make up for the fact that they can't take their pale hide out into the sun. I was frying some bacon when she made her appearance. She was wearing one of my shirts and apparently nothing else. One copper strand was draped over her eye and she definitely looked the worse for wear. She said two words, "Coffee – STAT!!" I handed her a big steaming mug and she slumped in a kitchen chair. She said, "You look as bad as I feel." I said, "I think we were run over by a beer truck last night. Thank God it's Saturday." I added, "After tying one on like that it's a good idea to get some nourishing grease in your stomach. If you drink the orange juice and eat this you will feel better." And I placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. She fell on it with the gusto of a starving grizzly bear. When she finished, she peered suspiciously out past her hair and said, "Did we fuck last night? It doesn't feel like it. But I don't remember much after we left Millers." I said, "I don't think so. You were on the bed and I was on the couch and I would think I would remember something as memorable as my first time making love to you." She looked amused and said, "What makes you think that there will BE a first time." I said, "Because I am going to get that little impediment out of the way right now." And I walked over took her hand and gently brought her to her feet. She looked at me, tilted her head impishly, threw the shirt over her head, stepped back and posed. What was revealed was a slim little body with surprisingly broad b-cup breasts and cute little pink nipples. Her waist was tiny and her hips were fruitful. She had one thigh crossed over the front of the other the way that women do. So her pussy was neatly covered. But from what I COULD see there was no hair down there. She said, using the mocking tone of voice that she had the night before, "You like?" At that, I swept her up in my arms - lust in my eyes. I toted her into the bedroom and tossed her on her back on the bed. She was laughing merrily as she said, "Apparently you like!!" I was out of my robe and undies and positioned next to her in a couple of seconds. She was starting to pant as I kissed her. We dueled tongues for a second as I reached down to roll a suddenly very significant nipple between two fingers of my left hand. It looked like a little red rosebud now. When I did that she moaned and arched her back, urgently forcing the breast against my hand. She hissed, "You have to fuck me NOW!! I can't wait any longer." I moved between her widely spread legs. She was humping the air in her eagerness as I lined old Lucifer up and slid him into her. It was the hottest and wettest joining I have ever experienced. She shrieked with sheer sensation. And wrapped her arms around my neck to drag my lips down to one nipple. They were huge when she was aroused. And obviously very sensitive. I took it in my mouth. It was red hot. She shrieked again and her heels started beating on the back of my legs as she began to quiver like a tuning fork. Up in Michigan This was perhaps 15 seconds into things. It was uncanny. I looked into her face but her bright green eyes had rolled up somewhere in the top of her head. All I could see was white. We were fucking into each other so hard that I was afraid I was going to hurt her. But she was just moaning over-and-over, "Harder!! Fuck me harder!! MORE!! MORE!!" The liquid sound of slapping flesh and her abandoned cries of passion were counterpointed by all of the effort noises that I was making. We fucked wildly for perhaps fifteen minutes and then I couldn't take it any longer. I wasn't worried about her satisfaction since she had loudly cum about four times. So I stopped fighting it. Orgasms have sometimes been referred to as a "sneeze in the loins" If that is the case then what happened to me was more like double pneumonia. I could swear the sun blinked off and on several times as I came. In the meantime, she had spread her legs wider than I thought possible, toes pointed like a ballet dancer. And she was just yelling, "YES!! YESS!! Give all of it to me!!" and then we collapsed together - me trying not to crush her and she spread eagled apparently deceased. She finally popped one eye open and said, "That was the most amazing fuck I have ever had. When can we do THAT again?" I said, "Whenever you want my dear because I am never letting you go." And that was the way it was. She moved in that week. And we were married in a civil ceremony at the end of the following month. Neither of us had much in the way of family, or even friends. So it was just a hurried legal event with witnesses that we scared up from around the courthouse. The honeymoon in Cabo was for two weeks. And she tried to kill me throughout that idyllic period. Surprisingly, when we got back the sex never slacked off. We just began our newly married life together like we had been leading it for all of the prior months. Three years passed. By that point we had moved up the ladder again - me to chief architect for the facility and Janet to head of the customer management service for one of the product lines. Our combined income was sufficient to buy a very nice house in Dearborn and we were living the life of the typical upper middle class DINK. Then we had two kids right in a row, a year and a half apart. First there was Sarah and then there was Dean. Janet took a full maternity leave both times and I tried to help out where I could. Life returned to normal except for one major change. Janet had now had our requisite two-and-half kids. She counted me as at least half a kid, and she said that she didn't want any more. We were still fucking like mad so I volunteered to get the snip since she had made all the sacrifices prior to that. It sounds like a simple operation and it is. But it hurts nonetheless and the sight of your marriage tackle black, blue and horribly swollen is a little disconcerting. But I got over it and the days blended into years. And the kids grew to teens. It was eighteen years after the marriage. I was 42. And I was still little old run-of-the-mill me. I had the sense that I was no closer to the person who I wanted to be. And I looked like I did in college, just better dressed. I still couldn't do anything athletic. And my attempts at being the life of the party were embarrassing even to me. Janet, on the other hand, had blossomed into a stunningly beautiful 41 year old woman. The cute little Collen face had evolved into full-fledged Celtic beauty. Her translucent skin might keep her out of the sun but it also ensured that there wasn't a line on her face. And her high cheek bones and perfect Irish features glowed with an inner womanly beauty and confidence. Now when Janet walked into the room every man stared and every one of them wanted her. Still - except for her striking good looks - we were very similar people. She had no interest in sports, she didn't ever work out. That slim body of hers had gained a few extra pounds from the kids. But it was all in the right places. And unlike any other woman I ever knew she hated dancing, or even socializing. Her entire life was built around me and her family. She was a wonderful mother and an even better best friend. She was always adventurous. So we explored together. First trundling the babies along. Then as they grew up we were accompanied by a pair of proto-adults. And the sex was like a post-grad course in the Kama-Sutra. The bond that created was a very special gift to our marriage. In public we were two effective professionals raising a pair of wonderful children. But the sexual intimacy that passed between us underwrote our faith in our life together. In the dark hours of the night we all know that we are fundamentally alone. But Janet and I drew so much comfort from our shared affection that it merged our individual psyches into a single spirit. In essence, we felt like we were moving through life as one entity because we were so attuned physically. There are long-time marriages where one spouse dies and the other immediately follows. I can understand that. I know that this will sound melodramatic. But I really could not imagine life without Janet. She was my necessary other half. By the time we reached our eighteenth anniversary I had finally made my way into a corner office. That was not as much fun as it might sound, since a lot of responsibility came with actually having walls and a door. Part of what I did was manage the equipment and services for our division and that was why I was sitting at my desk when my old nemesis William Wirt strode through the door. I hadn't seen him since that fateful night on the porch in Ann Arbor. But I recognized him right away. Of course he didn't know who I was. But then again, he had NEVER known who I was He had gained a lot of weight, about ten pounds of which was now residing in the fat under his several chins. He had also come down with a serious case of male pattern baldness. As a result, he had shaved his head. All I could think of as he sat down across from me with all that pink skin sticking out above his necktie was that he look like a 290 pound penis. Of course he had not lost any of his sense of entitlement. And the company that he now owned might have caused him to be even more conceited than he was back in the day. He RADIATED arrogance, aggression and almost delusional self-confidence. I didn't show the slightest reaction as he reached across the table to energetically pump my hand. It had been 20 years since we had any contact and I was nobody back then. But I had him by the balls and he knew it. His company provided services to Ford. The contract wasn't major by our standards. But it was the entire kettle of fish for him. And he needed our business. We had been using Wirt's company's services for the past twenty years. His dad had made Wirt President and CEO when he retired three years ago and since the change-over we had been getting constant complaints about shoddy workmanship. I was meeting with Wirt to sort it out. He led with the "hail-fellow-well-met" gambit that had always been his standard approach. I knew that he considered me nothing more than a pencil necked corporate geek. But since the shoe was temporarily on the other foot he was going to treat me like his best pal. We haggled our way through the list of problems until 5:30 . He made a point of checking his gold Rolex Yachtmaster and said, "Hey buddy – I'm getting hungry. How about we continue to talk over dinner at The Henry." I said, "My wife is waiting for me at home. We always eat dinner together." I could see that he thought that I was thoroughly pussy-whipped. But he kept up the jovial facade, "Well let's just bring the little lady along with us. Call her up. It'll be my treat." The last thing I wanted to do was subject Janet to the guy. She hates blowhards and Wirt was one of the worst in captivity. But I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I had the momentum in our negotiations and I didn't want to lose it. Nevertheless, I also didn't want to leave Janet sitting at home. So I called her and asked her if she wanted to meet us at TRIA. She said, "Wow – to whom do I owe the honor? You'd never take me to a place that expensive." I said, "A vendor is paying for it and we are going to be talking business. But I didn't want to leave you home if you want to go." She said, "I'd love to go, especially if we aren't paying. I assume you want me to dress up." I said, "It's just a vendor but let's see if you can blow his mind." I was going to give the asshole a little payback for the porch incident. She said, "I'll be in full mind-blowing mode. Love you." and hung up. She made her appearance an hour later. She was firing for effect. We had a table on the other side of the room. It was as far away as possible from the entrance. So she had to walk entirely across the restaurant in her 4 inch stilettos. That marvelous ass was twitching suggestively as she proceeded toward us. She was a beautiful self-assured woman in a figure hugging little black dress. The dress worked ideally with her best feature - that thick mane of copper hair. And the scoop front put her big round tits superlatively on display. The little gold chain with the single perfect diamond dangling in the canyon between those two impressive hills was the finishing touch. Her huge emerald cat eyes were hypnotic. And her wide sensual mouth was flawlessly made up to highlight a knowing smile. Her freckles and turned up nose made her look like the world's hottest and most sophisticated girl-next-door. She came over to us never taking her eyes off of me. And I couldn't stop looking into those two deep pools of love. I thought to myself, "How could I have ever been so lucky?" I looked over at Wirt to gauge his reaction. He appeared to have swallowed his tongue. His jaw was almost resting on the table like a cartoon wolf – game, set and match to Janet Ostrovski. We both rose when she got to the table. She gracefully extended her hand to Wirt and said, "I'm Janet, Peter's wife." Wirt looked at her with pure lust. Then he put the mask back on and became "good old Bill." He laughed heartily and said, "Well – he certainly knows how to pick 'em. Were you an actress, or a model before you got married?" Janet colored and said, "No, I'm Director of Customer Relations for this Region's dealerships. I have been in CRM since before I met Peter." He laughed again and said, "Well I'D like to be your customer!!" It might have been harmless banter but there was another meaning to that. We both chose to ignore him and we all sat down. Throughout the meal Wirt dominated the conversation. He was paying for it. So I just let him talk. He was clearly vamping on Janet and I didn't blame him. She was especially hot looking tonight. His version of impressing a woman was to talk about his possessions. According to him his house, which was on a lake in Oakland County, was the biggest in the subdivision. His boat was the fastest on the lake. His many cars were expensive classics and he hobnobbed with all of the celebrities and power brokers in the Detroit area. Oh yeah –and as an afterthought he mentioned that his wife and kids were also very nice. After his second bottle of wine he had stopped talking to me entirely - actually turning away from me in his seat so that he put himself between me and her. Most people attempting a seduction would have been a little more subtle about it. But this guy had always been supremely arrogant. And he was used to getting any woman he wanted. So he was very direct and forceful with Janet. He kept dropping salacious innuendos about his prowess in bed. In fact he was getting so aggressive that I thought he was going to pull his dick out at one point and lay it on the table for her appraisal. On her part Janet wasn't overplaying her hand. She is in customer relations and she knows how to handle people. Especially men like Wirt. So by the time we had finished dinner she had him convinced that she thought he was a very interesting fellow indeed. As soon as we got back in the car she said angrily, "That man is totally obnoxious. He kept touching me under the table and he wouldn't get out of my space. What in the world are you doing with him?" I said, "He owns a company that does all of its business with us. When we first started working with them they were a top-notch supplier. But since he took over it has kind of drifted into mediocrity. "It has gotten so bad that we are trying to decide whether to look elsewhere. But I thought that I would let him convince me otherwise. I need to do a little more checking but I don't think that we are going to continue the association." She said, "If the way he acted tonight is any indication I can see why his company is failing. He is an overbearing, big-mouthed bully." I noticed that Janet was particularly demanding in bed that night. I think that no matter what she might have thought about the asshole his attentions had definitely turned her on. I had to admit to a pang of jealousy The following day I continued the negotiations with Wirt. It was clear that he thought he had won me over by buying me dinner. It was also evident to me at least – and remember I am not the most secure person in the world – that he was far too interested in my wife. He asked me everything about her, how we had met and what the current state of our marriage was. At one point he actually said, "I'll bet she's a really wild fuck." I told him that I didn't appreciate that remark and that if he wanted to keep doing business with us he should keep things professional. He said with his smug attitude, "Just giving her a compliment buddy. You don't have to get defensive about it. I'm catnip to women. And your hot wife obviously liked what I had to offer. It just happens." The person I wish I was would have yanked him out of his chair and kicked his ass all over my office. In five short sentences he had demeaned both my wife and me. But instead I gave him a look that told him that he was on very thin ice. I hated being such a weenie. But what were my options? If I had pushed the matter he would have puffed up like a ruffed grouse in mating season. And he knew that it would be extremely embarrassing to have a loud conversation about something as private as my wife's capabilities in bed, right there in front of all of my co-workers. I still had to work there. Like Janet said, we was a bully. We went back and forth for the rest of the morning. We got to a final best offer and shook hands on it - not too friendly I might add. And he went off to make some other poor soul's life miserable. That was on a Tuesday. The pertinent managers and I met all day on Wednesday and Thursday to decide what to do. My people had continued to dig and the general consensus was that we could do much better quality-wise, for a lower price, if we went with his competitor. But it was up to me to break the news to Wirt. I felt like I need to tell him face-to-face. It's the way I have always done business. And I wanted to keep it civilized. So I called him that Friday morning and told him that I would meet him at the Dearborn Inn at 5:00. We have a permanent presence there - seeing that Henry Ford built it. And so the lobby of that distinguished old hotel seemed like an ideal location to conclude our business. His tone of voice told me that he thought that I was planning to cement the deal. When he walked in I was standing there with Tom O'Malley, who was our VP for Corporate Purchasing and Vic Raavi, who was our IT guru. Wirt came strutting up to us like he was about to cash a winning lottery ticket. He wasn't keeping up the façade of "good old Bill" any longer. Instead, he was broadcasting his sense of assumed superiority. I looked over at O'Malley and he was looking a little apprehensive. I thought to myself, "We'd better get this settled right away." I said as sympathetically as I could, "Sit down Bill. We need to talk about our contract." He got a grin that could only be described as "shit eating" and sat down in the fourth armchair. He leaned forward and said to the three of us, "I KNEW you wouldn't be able to find anybody better." That hung there for a couple of seconds. I exchanged glances with Tom and Vic and said, "That's just it, we already have. "So we will be terminating your contract effective close of business today. If you have any questions ask them now." I could see that news wash over him. In a matter of seconds he went from supremely self-assured to totally pissed-off. It was an amazing transformation. I understood his reaction. Our business was most of his company's revenue stream. If we pulled out he had very few options. And none of them were good. He said loudly and angrily, "You can't do that!!" I said, "Yes we can and we have. We just don't think that you are the right fit for us. It's a matter of confidence in your services." O'Malley chimed in with, "Our lawyers have been over this every possible way. And legally this is a bullet-proof situation. We have already sent your Company written notice via courier. We're sorry but we just can't afford any more breakdowns." Raavi added, "We have had two more failures this week and that cost us a lot of money." Wirt rose from his chair. He was considerably bigger than any of us and he was furious. We all rose with him. I said, trying to calm him down, "We wanted to give you a chance but it just didn't work out. I'm sorry." And I extended my hand for a final handshake. Wirt exploded in fury. Spittle was flying off his lips as he yelled, "YOU'RE SORRY!! You don't have the slightest idea how sorry you are GOING to be you cucky wimp!! "I'm going to fuck your wife. She's going to love it. And there will be nothing you can do about it. In fact I think I'm going to keep her around for a while as my personal slut!!" I heard the words but I couldn't process them. I just stood there speechless, with my hand dangling lamely in the air and my mouth wide open. Then, without another word Wirt turned and stomped out the door. I remembered the incident from 20 years ago and I was rocketed back to the feelings of inadequacy that I had before I met Janet. My co-workers seemed both appalled and sympathetic. I must have looked totally mortified. The man who I wanted to be would have laughed the whole thing off with a witty remark. But I knew THAT story would be all over the Operations Building by close-of-business Monday. Worse, I believed that Wirt would do exactly what he had promised to do. And it set a thunderbolt of jealousy through me. I know I'm self-doubting. I suppose that it comes from always being picked last in baseball and spending all of my social events standing around with the rest of the wallflowers. Janet had changed all that. I felt like a special person because she was so extraordinary. Yet she still loved me. Nonetheless, I was also disturbingly aware that Janet was out of my league now. When we first got together - and for many years afterward - our social currency had been about equal. But at 41, Janet had evolved into an absolutely trophy woman while I had progressed into– ahem – well... "Middle age". Perhaps Wirt had sensed the disparity between our comparative perch on the social ladder and planned to act on it. The shaven head gave him a dangerous and exciting appearance. And he just radiated the belief that every woman he met was yearning to sample his dick. Unfortunately, my innate insecurity told me that I couldn't hold onto Janet if Wirt really made a play for her. When it came to seduction he was an apex predator. And I could tell that Wirt really, really, REALLY wanted my wife. Up in Michigan Janet had never expressed any dissatisfaction with me, or our life together. In fact the opposite was true. We were with each other every moment of our lives, except for the time we are at work. And she always rushed home to be with me just as I hurried home to be with her. But Wirt was big and super-confident and he had fucked them all. There was just something in his assumption that every woman wanted to submit to him. Maybe it was pheromones, or that alpha-male attitude, but whatever it was I had eye-witness proof that it was effective. And now he was targeting my wife!! My stomach was roiling as I drove home. I just knew that I was going to lose her. And the thought was killing me. Nevertheless, I deal with matters as they arise. Janet and I have always talked honestly and openly about important things. So tonight we were going to have one of THOSE kind of discussions even if it was going to make me sound like a paranoid wimp. I got home first. She was a couple of minutes behind me. She looked tired. But she works a lot harder than I do. All of that interfacing with dissatisfied customers tends to take it out of you. I had picked up sushi from Crave on the way home and I had it lying on a platter with a couple of ice cold Asahi silver bullets. She saw what was waiting and her eyes lit up. She is a sucker for sushi. She said, "Let me get out of my things and I will see YOU outside on the patio." It was a warm October day and it would be a shame to waste the sunshine. We would probably not see it again for five dreadful Michigan months. So I picked up our feast and transferred it to the outdoor table. She came out fresh and jaunty, dressed in a peasant blouse and yoga pants that showed off her beautiful hips and gorgeous ass. As far as I was concerned, she might be the mother of a fifteen year old but she still had the hottest body in the Midwest. I started right in. I said, "There is a serious matter that I need to talk about." Janet is an intelligent and sensitive woman. She could tell that something was troubling me. So she switched to steely in an instant. It was a little disconcerting how quickly she could focus. I said, "I just met with Bill Wirt to terminate his contract. The meeting was as unpleasant as you might imagine. The thing I want to discuss occurred as he was leaving. It was very disturbing and we need to resolve it. Something passed across her face. I thought "oh shit – he's already been there!!" I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, "I don't know any better way to say this. So I will just come out with it. We have always been honest with each other and that is why I have faith in you and our marriage." She gave me a loving smile and took my hand the way women do to communicate connection. I continued, trying to convey seriousness with my tone of voice, "He was very angry when he left. And in his anger he told me that he planned to – in his words – "fuck you and make you into his personal slut" as his revenge for us severing our ties with him. "He said that there was no way I could stop him. He has always been the type of guy who defines himself by his sexual conquests. And I think he is going to try to add you to his list." Janet gasped. Rather than turning pale with guilt she sat there getting redder and redder as she sat there. I could see that I had lit the fuse on her Irish temper and she was about to explode. She is wildly passionate underneath her controlled exterior. And occasionally the control slips. When it does she goes berserk. This was one of those moments. She was wild with rage. She spluttered for a couple of seconds and then she said, "I'm going to kill him!!" I thought to myself, "That sounds like a confession to me!!" I was overwhelmed by grief. Her sudden change in demeanor surprised even me. The jaunty and loving wife of a few seconds earlier had been replaced by a certifiable nut case. She said, "The jerk has called me every day since Monday asking me to meet him. I have told him in unmistakable terms that I was not buying what he was selling. But, he has no shame and he is utterly relentless. It is like he just doesn't hear me when I tell him that I am not interested. "I should have told you. But up until now it was only mildly irritating– not important in the great scheme of things. I just assumed that he would get the message sooner or later and leave me alone. "Now I can see that there is more to this than the adolescent hijinks of some aging horn-dog. This disrespects both of us. It implies that you are a weakling and that I am a whore. So what do we do about him?" The blissful wave of relief that washed over me would have made the Fukushima tsunami seem like a minor disturbance in a bathtub. All I could think about was how much I loved my fierce and strongminded wife. Janet was beginning to calm down. But she was still stalking around the patio like she was looking for something – or somebody - to hit. I had never seen her that mad. But the unmitigated effrontery of a guy like Wirt can do that to a smart woman. Finally she calmed down enough to start eating. But she was still fuming. It was obvious that her mind was working on the problem. Then suddenly she slammed down her beer, leaned forward, grabbed my hand, and said, "I have an idea. How much do you trust me?" I said, "With my very life." There was an unexpected tremble in my voice. I was still stirred by the unmistakable proof of fidelity that she had just given me. She had put a lot of ghosts to rest. She said, "So maybe Bill Wirt and I should go out on a date?" That statement didn't actually kill me. Although it caused my heart to miss several beats. She gave me one of her impish grins. I know that she has a lot of Irish larceny in her soul. And I could see that she had something planned for Mr. Wirt. S he grinned wickedly and said, "How about if I get all dressed up and spend the evening making the guy think that he is going to get what he wants. "Then when he makes his move I tell him all of the ways that he could never measure up to you as a man." I loved it - It was by far the stupidest plan I had heard in my life. But it was pure Janet. Janet is very proud and brave. She could not just simply let an insult like that slide. She would have to exact some form of direct payback. And as far as she was concerned the more hands-on and spectacular the better. Of COURSE it appalled me. There were major problems. And I outlined each and every one of them. First of all she would be alone with the asshole. And she had no defense against the sort of physical attack that he was capable of. Second, she had no idea how lowdown and dirty the guy was. Especially when it came to achieving his ends. And worst of all, there was Murphy's Law. That little axiom that dictates that something unforeseen would turn an attempt at personal payback into an unmitigated disaster. She smiled at me indulgently and said, "You know that I wasn't a virgin when we got together. I have years of experience handling creeps like Wirt. And he will never touch me. Not as long as I have this." She rose gracefully went into the house and came back out with her Asp. She laid it on the table with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. She is one of those women who hate being protected by a man – not that I would be very good at it anyhow. So she spent time with a personal trainer learning how to use a fighting baton. It is two feet of lethal force packaged into eight compact inches. She said, "I'll have this little beauty in my purse and I just HOPE that he tries something physical." She was right. Janet is not a shrinking violet. In fact she is ferocious. And her baton work during her training sessions was scary. Nevertheless, I am a firm believer in Karma. And I did not have a good feeling about going out of our way to poke that narcissistic mother-fucker. Janet has always been the brave one. She's a woman and she has never had to face the kind of physical bullying the average guy gets growing up. Accordingly, when it came to confronting bad people she never learned the lesson of discretion versus valor. I actually argued with her for quite a while. But her willful little mind was made up. Wirt had demeaned both me and her and she wanted to pay him back in kind. So, the following Monday she showed up from work looking like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. I said, "He called didn't he?" Wirt only called her at work. She said merrily, "Indeed he did and next Friday we are going out for a little dinner with a large helping of humiliation on the side. He wanted to do it tonight but I told him that I couldn't get away from you any earlier than Friday. It will give us time to finalize our plans." I said, "I am only going along with this because you can't get it out of your head. But I have to tell you that that I am uneasy." She laughed merrily and said, "I know you are a kind and gentle man." I was hoping the phrase "hopeless pussy" wasn't in the subtext somewhere. "And I know that you are willing to let bygones-be-bygones" With luck that wasn't a, "too chicken-shit to challenge him" statement. "But I just can't let it go. The minute he questioned my faithfulness and referred to me by the "S" word I knew that I had to call him out." Maybe it's a cultural thing. My wife is Irish. Her fiery temper makes her confront anybody over anything. Me – I'm Polish and with the Germans on one side and the Russians on the other my people leaned ages ago to let sleeping dogs lie. Plus, I had already had my helping of revenge. But I had done it in my own quiet way. Between our pulling our business - and a few phone calls that I had made on Monday - Wirt was bankrupt. He just didn't know it yet. The plan was simple. She would meet him for dinner at Andiamos. She would be dressed to kill. Then she would flirt with him to lead him on. When he finally made his pitch – and there was no doubt that he would make it because Janet could seduce a stone idol - she planned to tell him what she really thought of him and throw a drink in his face. I was actually hoping it would be hot coffee. Then she would make a production of joining me as I arrived from the parking lot for a hug and a kiss before we exited stage-left. It would be a dénouement fitting of a Shakespearean play. The plan seemed foolproof. It was in a public place. Wirt wouldn't try anything in front of a lot of witnesses. And once Janet threw down the gauntlet she would be out of harm's way before he could retaliate. Best of all, it would put a lovely coda on my relationship with the asshole. But I still had some conditions. I obviously couldn't be seen until the grand finale but I wanted eyes on the target at all times. So it had to be at Andiamos since the bartender there was a pretty good friend of mine. Of course I saw him a lot and I am a very good tipper. And I had to be standing-by nearby. I couldn't be sitting in the parking lot but I could sit in the museum lot around the corner. I was counting on a call from my bartender buddy Mario when it was time for me to make my appearance on stage. I was sitting with Dean working on his school project when she came down the stairs dressed for her date. I actually grunted with sheer wonder. She was a stunning montage of copper hair, porcelain skin, emerald eyes and bright red sensual mouth. She had gone all out with the makeup and hair and her high cheekbones with their spray of freckles and her huge green eyes were captivating. She has always had superb legs, slim and beautifully muscled. And she was showing them off in a dress that ended several inches above her knee. Walking in 4 inch heels only served to emphasize that gorgeous round butt. But the newest addition to her array of tools has been a much larger pair of tits. Those came courtesy of the kids. When we met she had exquisite little B cups. But once Sarah arrived Janet blossomed into a full round pair of Cs, which were so high on her chest and tightly gathered that bra-or-no-bra she had natural cleavage. They almost didn't seem real. Yet, from extensive tactile exploration I can attest that every inch and pound of them is genuine. She posed at the bottom of the stairs and said, "You like?" It was our catch phrase. She was using it to remind me exactly who that exquisite body belonged to. I was overwhelmed by her beauty. While at the same time a bolt of mindless insecurity shot through me. I knew every aspect of the motivation and planning but it still gave me a pang of pure jealousy to see her dressed for another man. And she was so softly feminine I couldn't imagine how she could ever be able to pull-off what she was planning to do. But underneath all of her pure sex appeal my wife is a warrior. I went over to hug her. I knew better than to kiss her and spoil the intricate makeup. Her perfume hit me. And it made me want to dump her over the back of the couch, grab those shapely hips and fuck her brains out. Of course that would have necessitated years of therapy for my son, who was standing right next to me, and she would have killed me afterward. But at that particular moment, the idea almost seemed worth it. She gave me a bright smile. I could see that she was relishing this. It reminded me that the Native-Americans turned their captives over to the women – that is - if they wanted them properly tortured. Women are ruthless when you mess with their families. She said, "I'll see you in a couple of hour's sweetie. Please don't be late." Then she gave me an impish Irish grin and closed the door. I heard her car start up and drive away. I gathered my coat and my Kindle, told Dean to behave himself while I was gone and walked out into the lovely fall evening. Her Taurus SHO's tail lights were just disappearing up our street as I got into my F150 King Ranch. The Mustang that I had when I was single was long-gone. But that truck had the look-and-feel of a luxury vehicle with sports car handling. I knew it would take two or three hours for Janet to properly drop the hammer on Mr. Wirt. So I eased the 150 into the deserted parking lot behind the Dearborn historical museum. I tuned the excellent sound system to the local classical music station and opened my newly acquired copy of the latest Jack Reacher novel. In my dreams I am six five and 250 pounds of rock hard muscle. So Major Reacher and I have a lot in common. I was imagining what was going on in the restaurant. I was sure that Janet's stunning good-looks would make Wirt randy as a Billy goat. I was also sure that Janet would be giving him the full treatment. She is a bit of a tease anyhow. Flirting is as natural for a beautiful woman as preening is for a peacock. After all, a woman like Janet has been wrapping guys around her little finger since she has been a teen. So manipulating men is as natural for her as throwing rocks is for little boys. Just as I was getting into the good part my phone buzzed. It was only an hour and a half since Janet left so I said "hello" in a puzzled tone. It was Mario. He said with anxiety in his voice, "Pete - you asked me to keep an eye on your wife and I might have some bad news. "She was having dinner with a guy and I think he put something in her drink. At least he took her out of here about fifteen minutes ago and she didn't look too good. "At first I thought he was just helping her to the bathroom but I think they went out the back door. I don't see either of them anywhere in here now – and I already checked." That fired an electric shock of dread through me. I said, "Do you have any idea where they are going?" Mario said, "No idea but if you can hold on I can find out what he is driving." He came back a couple of anxious minutes later and said, "Danny valeted the guy and he says it's a gold Escalade." That figured – it was predestined that Wirt would be driving a motorized penis. Mario added, "Good luck buddy. I never thought the cocksucker would pull a trick like THAT." I knew it!! If mere mortals mess with the Gods they get butt-fucked. I tossed the Kindle into the passenger seat, fired up the 150's big engine and went rocketing out of the parking lot. All I could think was, "Karma's a heartless bitch and Mr. Murphey is never wrong." I shouldn't have let Janet try such a harebrained stunt. I was frantically beating up my mind trying to figure out where he would take her. I knew that I was doomed if he had a motel reservation. There were just too many of them in the area. But Wirt didn't strike me as somebody who would plan ahead. He had animal cunning but no concept of strategy. So I was trying to think of a secluded place that might grab his attention. He probably wouldn't want to go too far. There were a lot of trees just to the north around Henry Ford's Fairlane estate and it is the most secluded spot for miles. So that seemed like the obvious place to start. If I was wrong Janet was going to pay the price. But I had to do something. I said a little prayer and mashed the accelerator down. Luckily it was after 9 PM and the roads, which would be packed with traffic in the day, were more-or-less deserted. I headed north and made one of those nonsensical Michigan U turns and started back along Evergreen. The U of M Dearborn campus was on my right. It looked deserted on a Friday night. I made the turn off of Evergreen onto Fair Lane Drive. That led to the Henry Ford estate itself. It was pitch black down that road, even though it was right in the middle of a big metropolitan area. There was some residual glow from the hunter's moon but there were no streetlights. I slowed to 25 miles per hour looking for any sign of the Escalade. I thought I saw a shape as I passed an access road leading off into a deserted area between the Fairlane estate and Evergreen. I turned into that little lane and there it was. He had pulled into a circular drive that must have once fronted a building. It was probably a former outbuilding on the estate. But it was just a large clearing in the woods now - with a single vehicle parked at the top of the circle. Wirt would have seen my lights if the Escalade's windows weren't so completely steamed up. I picked up my phone and dialed 911. I told them exactly what was going on and where to send the cops. Then I got out of the truck and went to rescue my wife. I could see the Escalade bouncing around and there were the recognizable rumpety-banging sounds of sex coming from the back seat area. I grabbed the door, and threw it open. It broke my heart. The first thing I heard was a very wet slapping sound. Wirt's hairy butt was rapidly moving up and down between Janet's legs. She was spread wide for his attentions, with one foot resting on the front console and one over the back of the rear seat. Her toes, with their bright red polish, were curled in ecstasy as her tightly flexed legs held her pussy rigid to receive his enthusiastically plunging dick. She was making explosive, "Oh-oh-oh!! Ahh-ahh-ahh!! - Fuck me!!" noises as he pounded her. The sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex was pervasive. I didn't say anything I simply reached back and punched his exposed ball sac as hard as I could. He let out a roar of pain and turned around to look over his shoulder. I was pulling my arm back to hit him there again. He scrambled off of Janet and onto the ground next to the car. He was standing there in his bare feet, naked from the waist down. And he was sporting a hard-on that made him look ridiculous. I could hear Janet utter a plaintive little noise of dissatisfaction and mumble, "Where'd you go?!! Come back and finish me!!" Then she seemed to pass out. Up in Michigan That was all gathered in a flash. Because Wirt had gotten his wits about him and was coming after me. I knew that I had to buy some time before the cops got there and so I took off hoping that Wirt would chase me. I was counting on his bare feet slowing him down. Well - that didn't work out so well. One of the most one-sided naval battles of all time was fought off Samar in the Philippines in World War Two. Look it up. It was between a group of American destroyers and escort carriers called Taffy-3 and every freaking battleship in the entire Japanese navy. Needless to say the little American ships were mostly all sunk but the fight that they put up as they scurried around the Japanese caused enough delay for the American's to ultimately react. That pretty much describes my fight with Wirt. He was six inches taller, a hundred pounds heavier and much faster than I was. My only hope was to distract him long enough for the cops to get there. I said as derisively as possible, "Wow, is that a dick or a cocktail weenie? Our Chihuahua has a bigger schlong." He let out a roar and lunged at me. I dodged away from him. The force of his momentum carried him past me and directly into the side of my truck. Score one for the little guy. He made a grunt of pain and turned toward me with his nose bleeding profusely. I ran to my left, hoping to draw him toward the main road. I was laughing mockingly at him as I went. I had gone about six strides when a fist like a club hit me in the middle of my upper back and I sprawled face first in the dirt. I scrambled back to my feet and dodged to his right. I yelled, "Is that the best you can do you pussy?!!" Pure bravado - he had actually nearly killed me with that blow.Wirt took off after me again. I yelled, "You're a hopeless faggot. You can't even catch little old me!!" I could hear the sound of rapidly approaching police sirens. I needed to prolong this another minute at most and Janet would be safe. Wirt would have been smart to get out of there but he was so enraged at that point that he was like a crazed beast. I stopped, laughed at him, pointed at his dick-which was totally deflated at this point, and said, "Where'd your cock go bitch??!!" He let out another yell and chased me up the lane toward the entrance. I was almost to Fair Lane Drive and safety when he managed to get a good grip on my arm. He spun me around and slammed a beefy fist into my stomach. It was like a bomb exploded down there. Then, as I was folding up unable to breath, he brought an upper-cut off the floor that hit me right on the point of the chin. My head snapped back and the breakers toggled. As the nausea and darkness descended I could see flashing police lights and hear loud voices. I awoke groggily. My jaw hurt, my neck hurt and I was lying in a hospital bed. The pain in my abdomen was excruciating. I was looking at a nurse who was examining the drip that was next to my bed. I said in a surprisingly clear voice, "What happened?" She turned with a smile and said, "I'll get the doctor." She came back five minutes later with a serious looking older guy. Without saying anything he glanced into my eyes using an ophthalmoscope and took my pulse. Once he was satisfied he said, "You had several serious injuries Mr. Ostrovski. When you came into the ER you had a grade III concussion and whiplash and your spleen was ruptured. We had to operate on the spleen immediately. Fortunately we are just up the road from where it happened so we were able to contain the bleeding without too much long-term trauma. But we are going to have to keep you here for a couple of days just to make sure there are no complications." I thought back. The last thing I could remember was talking to Dean about a school project that we were working on. I said, "How long have I been out?" T he doctor gave me a comforting smile and said, "This is Saturday afternoon. You would have regained consciousness almost immediately afterward. But we had to put you under for the operation and we have kept you sedated since then. It helps you handle the pain." I said, "What happened. Was I in a car accident? Was anybody else hurt? I had no recollection of Friday night, or Saturday." He said, "There are a couple of gentlemen who want to talk to you about that. They have been called and they will be here shortly. Can you stay with us until they get here?" I did a quick inventory. It felt like I had been hit by a truck. I had a splitting headache and my abdominal area was killing me. My neck felt like I had been the main attraction at a hanging. And I couldn't remember anything much about the last twelve hours." Other than that, I was fine. I said, "I can stay awake. Where is my wife? Is she okay? Can I talk to her?" He said, "She is in another room. She was admitted for observation too." I thought, "Oh poor Janet!! What have I done?!!" My musings were interrupted by the arrival of two nondescript guys in cheap suits. They were so clearly cops that they might as well have been wearing Police Athletic League ball-caps. I thought to myself, "Holy shit!! Am I being arrested?? I must have really fucked up this time!" They introduced themselves as detectives with the Dearborn Police and told me that they wanted to ask a couple of questions about – as they put it – "the incident." I told them that I would try to answer their questions. But that my memory of the last day had been wiped. I said, "Did I get in an accident? Was somebody hurt?" They looked at each other. Than the skinny one with the high and tight said, "No, you weren't in an accident. We want to ask you a few questions about William Wirt." I said, "What does Wirt have to do with this? He is one of our former vendors. We decided to terminate Ford's contract with his company. Was he driving the car?" The fat guy with the food stains on his tie said, "You and he were in an altercation Friday evening. He was the one who put you here." My first thought was, "Wirt beat me up?? I'm such a wuss!!" He continued with, "Do you have any recollection of being struck by him and the circumstances surrounding the situation?" I said, "No I don't. My last memory was from early Friday evening. I wish I could help but I just don't remember." High and tight looked at me appraisingly and said, "We believe that you were injured trying to prevent Mr. Wirt from assaulting your wife. We know he drugged her because the blood work that was done when she came in showed a high level of Rohypnol in her system. And she was discovered naked and passed out in the back seat of Mr. Wirt's car. "We have your 911 call and it gives us the general picture. But we have to confirm what actually happened. "Mr. Wirt is very insistent and detailed about what he says occurred. He claims that he was simply defending himself from you. He claims that you attacked him while he was having consensual sexual relations with your wife Janet. "When our officers arrived it was clear that you had come on the scene and interrupted the act. But we need to know exactly what you saw and why you were there. "If what we believe is true we plan to charge Mr. Wirt with first degree criminal sexual conduct with special circumstances. His battery of you would justify that. That is a class "A" felony and a long time in jail, even for a first offender. I was thunderstruck. I said, "Janet having sex with Wirt - in the back seat of his car? I don't believe it? She is a very intelligent and sensitive woman. And a blowhard like Wirt is definitely not her type. "She only met him once two weeks ago. And she was grossed-out. She's just not that kind of person. Did you say she was drugged?" High and tight said, "Mrs. Ostrovski had enough Rohypnol in her system to drug a moose. That was what leads us to believe that - if she was having sex with Mr. Wirt it was not with her consent. "Nevertheless, we need to get all of the facts of the case and you are our only eye-witness. Mrs. Ostrovski will have no memory of yesterday either. Memory loss is a common side effect of Rohypnol and it is usually permanent. "On the other hand the doctor has suggested that your amnesia is only temporary. So you need to try very hard to remember what happened." Food stains said, "We also want to talk to your wife, maybe she can fill in some of the missing pieces. Is she available?" I said, "The doctor told me that she was in another room. Could you please wait to question her?" Food stains said, "We plan to arrest and charge Mr. Wirt today – so no – we need to talk to her right now. I said, "Janet is an honest woman. And whatever Wirt claims I can assure you that nothing took place between the two of them involving her willing participation." The nurse who had been fussing with my drips disappeared and then reappeared fifteen minutes later wheeling a very groggy looking Janet in a wheel chair. The instant she saw me awake she started crying. My fear and worry evaporated just seeing her reaction. She sobbed in her hands for a couple of minutes and then sat up in the chair. Her beautiful emerald eyes were red with pain and clouded with tears. I said, "I love you baby." And she went back to weeping. She said, "Oh God!! What happened to us? Are you all-right?" I said, "I'm fine, just a little banged up. You know what my Pollock head is like - solid rock." That was accompanied by a wan smile. It was a truly touching moment. But at that point things got serious. High and tight said, "We would like to talk to you Mrs. Ostrovski. Is there some place private that we can do that?" She said, "We can talk right here. I am not leaving my husband's bedside." I squeezed her hand to reaffirm that. She looked lovingly at me and said with a little humor in her voice, "We are such a mess." Food stains said to the nurse, "Can you give us some privacy please?" The nurse smiled sympathetically, walked out and closed the door behind her. As soon as the door was shut high and tight said, "We are investigating the circumstances behind what happened last night. "We understand that you were at Andiamos with Mr. Wirt yesterday evening. Mr. Wirt claims that you propositioned him during dinner and that the two of you subsequently found a secluded spot to consummate the affair." That shot a lightning bolt of jealousy through me. I knew it wasn't true but it was a devastating statement nonetheless. Food stains continued, "Mr. Wirt claims that Mr. Ostrovski somehow discovered you two together and began to assault him. He claims that he was only defending himself. "The severity of your husband's injuries tends to make that claim a little spurious. But right now it is your word against his. "So I am afraid I have to ask you outright. Have you had willing sexual relations with Mr. Wirt?" What a question!! Janet had been drugged and raped. It's the worst thing that can happen to a woman. But she is always steadfast. She said in a voice laden with cold anger. She was only barely keeping control of her Irish temper, "That man is a psychopath. He has been harassing me at work since we met him. "I agreed to have dinner with him to warn him in a polite fashion that he had to stay away from me or we would take legal action. I would never let him touch me under any circumstances." I thought, "Good girl!! I could still remember our plan. And we wouldn't have looked quite so innocent If Janet had told them what the real motivation was." Janet continued in a voice constricted by anger, "The man is repulsive. I remember feeling nauseous over dinner and the rest is a blur of unreal and very erotic dreams. Then I woke up here." She turned to me with tears in her eyes and said with profound grief in her voice, "I'm sorry baby. I would never do anything like that willingly." Food stains said, "Why was your husband not with you." It was a fair question. I hoped that she was not planning on giving him an honest answer. She said with some resentment in her voice, "I know what you are implying and it was for the very simple reason that my husband had to terminate an important contract with Mr. Wirt and we BOTH felt that the hostility that business deal generated would prevent me from having a reasonable conversation with the man." I breathed a sigh of relief. Janet is a very smart woman. Food stains looked meaningfully at high and tight. As far as they were concerned they had gotten to the heart of the matter. He said, "So what you are saying is that Mr. Wirt drugged you and raped you as revenge for your husband terminating a contract with him." Janet said, "I assume that is the case. I don't pretend to understand what was going on in that disgusting pervert's mind." There was a question hanging out there and high and tight asked it. He turned to me and said, "How were you able to be Johnny on the spot so quickly?" I was waiting for it and I had already formulated the answer. I still couldn't recall what had actually happened. But I could put two and two together. I assumed that I must have gone looking for her. And I remembered asking Mario to keep an eye on her. I said, "We have a good friend who is the bartender at Andiamos. I had told him to watch out for Janet because I knew that Wirt was dangerous. "Mario called me the minute he suspected that something was wrong. We live nearby and I rushed over. It was sheer luck that I found the right place but there are very few out-of-the-way spots around Andiamos. And you two both know that the most obvious one is Fairlane." They exchanged glances like that answered their question. High and tight said, "I think that wraps it up. We are going to arrest Wirt and charge him with CSC in the first and aggravated battery." Then he turned to me and said, "But we want you to call us as soon as you have any memory about the rest of the incident. The doctors say that will be within the next day or so. You will probably have to testify at his trial as well." They both left and it was just Janet and me now. As the door closed, Janet jumped up from her wheel chair, ran to my bed and threw herself on my chest crying. It was more than a little painful since she was very close to the incision on my stomach. But the discomfort was worth it. Just to experience the joy of holding her. I hugged her and stroked her trying to keep my IV's and other medical paraphernalia out of the way as I did it. I said, "Are you okay baby?" She said, "I'm as fine as can be. I don't want to think about what put me here. I'm just worried about you." I said, "I never should have let you do this in the first place. I have to admit that I was savoring the idea of settling the score with that son-of-a–bitch. But it was hubris plain and simple. I guess we both underestimated him. "And then after that I couldn't protect you. I failed you and I'm sorry." The man I wanted to be would have beaten Wirt to a pulp. But the person who I actually am knew THAT would never happen. Wirt was just too physically dominant. I had even gotten a shot into his most vulnerable spot and all it did was piss him off. Janet stood up angrily, put her hands on her hips, and said with conviction in her voice, "I don't want to hear that!! You could have just sat safely in your truck and let him keep on raping me. But instead you distracted him away from me long enough for the police to arrive. "The nurse told me all about it as she was bringing me up the hall. She said that Wirt was chasing you when the cops got there. And that you were dodging around taunting him. You had him so enraged that the two cops had to Taser him just to arrest him. "The story is all over the hospital and everybody thinks that you are a very brave man. Most men would not have had the quick thinking or courage to do what you did. "You wouldn't be in this bed if you hadn't given me your last full measure of devotion. So as far as I'm concerned you will always be my knight in shining armor. And don't you ever forget it!!" Then she took my hand in both of hers, kissed me lightly on the forehead, and sat back down in her wheelchair still holding my hand. She looked exhausted and I was about to drift back off to sleep myself. As I did I was thinking that we probably got what we deserved. Little people like Janet and me should never think that they are smart enough to mess with fate. But it was over now and we had each other. As I drifted off I mumbled to her, "I am never going to be any more than I am. But I'm special because you love me." Epilog My memory returned by the following Wednesday and I was able to give the police a full account of the events of that Friday. Janet and I stuck to the story that she had first told the police in the hospital, since as far as we were concerned her actual motivation for being with Wirt wasn't relevant. The actions that put him in jail were all on him. Because law enforcement had a detailed eye-witness account they charged Wirt with the complete package. He was arrested and sat in the Wayne County lockup until the $300,000 bail was raised. In the meantime his business went into the dumper. It is hard for any company to survive if they lose 95% of their customers. I had arranged that little situation with a few phone calls to friends at other companies. Wirt's wife divorced him with extreme prejudice. There is nothing like having your husband arrested for drugging and raping another woman to motivate a spouse to adopt scorched earth. And she filed the day after the arrest. She was not going to presume innocence until proven guilty. My guess is that she already knew who Wirt really was and she was just waiting for the proof. After the pieces of THAT explosion had hit the ground the dude was living in a shithole in a high crime area of Highland Park. My testimony at the trial was detailed. Both Wirt and his lawyer tried to rattle me. Wirt sat there staring death and the lawyer implied that I was making all of this up as retribution for Wirt fucking Janet. I just stuck to recounting what I saw. I did it all in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. It gave me great pleasure to know that my humble words were cooking Wirt's goose. Janet also testified. A lot of victims don't have the courage. But Janet was an avenging angel. She was totally unshakable as Wirt's lawyer battered her during the cross-examination. Wirt had claimed that he was seduced and that the sex was consensual. The medical evidence of the high level of Rohypnol in her system and Janet's unwavering testimony about his harassment of her prior to meeting him made that claim sound ridiculous. My recounting the boast that Wirt had made about Janet on the day that we terminated his contract was the final nail in his coffin. The jury deliberated less than an hour and the verdict was "guilty" on all counts. Knowing Wirt I almost expected him to give me an "I fucked your wife" sneer as they led him away. But he just looked thoroughly beaten. His assets were liquidated. What the wife didn't take, we eventually took in the civil suit that we filed. So he was penniless. At least he would have a roof over his head and three square meals a day for the next 20 years - courtesy of the State of Michigan. And as for Janet and me? - Our marriage never faltered. I know that some of you might get it in your pea sized brains that Janet was unfaithful because she was so clearly loving the fucking that she was getting. And frankly - if that is what you think you seriously need to grow up. It was Rohypnol plain and simple - not her overwhelming lust for Wirt that put her on her back. And I am absolutely convinced that she would not have been there otherwise. Up in Michigan So no – I didn't have the slightest doubt about what I saw. Drugged humans react to sexual stimulation. And all that Janet was doing was responding to the exquisite experience of having a cock inside her. She is a passionate woman. She would always react like that. The key question was whether she would ever willingly CHOOSE to have anybody ELSE's cock inside her. And I am convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that I knew THAT answer. Janet never regained any memory of the time between the drug taking effect and her waking up in the hospital. And she has been clear about her desire to never learn the details. So what was the moral of our story? In the end, we proved Confucius right when he said, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." But another one of his quotes is probably more appropriate here, "Life is simple. We insist on making it complicated." Both my indisputably loving wife and I consider those words to live by now.