7 comments/ 30185 views/ 2 favorites Papaver Pilosum - A Gardener's Nightmare! By: hansbwl I looked lovingly under the hood of my Morgan car. Saturday morning, a couple of hours work on my vintage car was therapy for me. I was travelling a lot in my work, so these few hours gave me many moments in total relaxation. My wife Joyce understood this and supported me. She knew that she was not in competition with the car; I did not take it to bed with me. She also enjoyed our trips through the countryside's local roads, the top down, the wind blowing in her hair. The car and my wife were my two great loves. My wife loved me and accepted my car as a necessary accessory. Another look under the hood, and I saw that a new fan belt was needed. It was worn, and as I always wanted it in top shape, I decided to go into my home office on the ground floor and call the local garage and see if they had a spare I could use. When entering my office, the phone started to ring; I went over and lifted the handset. Before I could say anything I heard my wife's voice answering, I was about to put the handset down, when I heard it was my good friend Tom who called and my wife saying, "Do you want to speak to George, Tom?" Just as I was about to say I was on the line, I stopped as I heard Tom say: "No, it is you I want to talk to. Where is George by the way?" "He is in the garage working on his precious Morgan," she replied. I got curious; what would Tom talk to my wife about? And this is a short version of the conversation I overheard, not very pleasant: "We had a very nice time together at the party last week. I would like to do it again some time soon." My wife responded, "Are you mad? That is never going to happen. I'm so mad at you, and I can't understand how you could take advantage of your best friend's wife." "Take it easy now, I know you enjoyed it, don't deny it please." Joyce almost shouted, "NO, I DID NOT! I admit I did not scream and make a ruckus, I was not able to, and I was half outside my self, because you had spiked my drinks, you moron." Tom rejected the allegation. "I did not." "Yes you did. You know I get amorous when having a drink too much, but George is always there to take me home before I get naughty. You did take advantage of George being away and poured me strong drinks and put me in a state not being able to protect myself. It was so close to rape as it gets. So you keep away from me, do you hear. I MEAN IT TOM." "OK, OK, I shall be a good boy for a while, but we will have fun again some day, I am sure of that," said Tom, trying to be placatory. "Never, never in your lifetime," my wife told him firmly, "I have felt bad the whole week and I have decided to tell George what happened and hope he will forgive. I will not name you; I don't want him to lose a friend also. But if you at any time even hint that there is some secret buried somewhere, I will tell it was you who tricked me. I have been unhappy the whole week and cannot live on a lie." And then I heard she broke off the connection without saying goodbye. I forgot about the fan belt. What I had overheard shattered me beyond belief. My friend had, by force , or by a trick, had sex with my wife while I was not there. It was common knowledge he was a ladies' man, and had cheated on Mira repeatedly, but I would never have thought he would try to seduce my wife. I went back to the garage, I needed to think. What now? Joyce had told Tom she would tell me, so I wouldn't disclose to her what I had heard. I was really angry, not so much at her, but at Tom. I understood that he could not survive this as my friend. I had to get back at him. How I had no idea, but I would find a way, you bet. During the day, when I was around Joyce, I noticed she was unusually quiet. After the telephone conversation I had overheard earlier, I understood why. I did not bother her; I would let her come out with it when she was ready. After dinner, we were in the living room with a cup of coffee watching the news when I decided I would help her along. "Dear Joyce, is there something bothering you? You have not been your cheerful self for the last few days. Have I said or done anything to upset you?" She looked sadly at me, and replied in a very low voice, "To your first question, yes the last week has been bad and I have not been sleeping well. There is something that bothers me a lot. To your second question, no -- you haven't done anything to make me feel this bad; it's entirely my own fault." "Would you like to tell me what's wrong? Can I help you?" "No, I don't really want to tell you, but I need to. I have been burning up inside the last week, and my problem is what happened at the party last week, when you couldn't make it. I have always thought our marriage was strong, and I have never had cause to feel insecure around you. I hope it is strong enough for you to not throw me out and accept what happened at the party was more an accident than anything else." "Have you slept with another man Joyce? Have you cheated on me? Please say no!" "No, I haven't slept with another man. I have never wanted to be with anybody else, just you. But you may think I have cheated, I'm so upset with what happened and it was not what I wanted. Please let me explain," she said and threw herself at me, her arms around me with her face leaning on my shoulder, sobbing. "I love you so much," she said again and again between sobs. I stroke her hair and kissed her tears away and gently said, "Just take your time, tell me what happened that was so bad. I promise to listen and not interrupt. Start when you are ready." Between her snivels, this is what she told me, "I was, as you know, without you and I had too much to drink. When thinking about it afterwards I now understand that the drinks were stronger than I am used to, and that they where made stronger on purpose. When you make drinks for the ladies you always make sure not to make them strong. But the men at the party did not have your finesse and aptitude of being gentlemen. Anyway, you know me so well; you know that I am frightfully horny when I get a little tipsy. At that point I was wishing you were there so you could take me home and to bed. I went out on the veranda for fresh air, thinking about and missing you. Suddenly 'you' were behind me, 'you' cupped my breasts in 'your' hands and I made a longing sigh and pushed my behind towards 'you' and felt 'your' hardness. One of 'your' hands left my breast, lifted up my skirt, pulled my panties aside and 'you' entered me in one swift movement. I was soaking wet, and we both reached a climax after only a few strokes. When the excitement simmered down, I said something like, 'Oh George, thank you for coming to the party, I missed you so, lets go home and enjoy each other.' Then 'you' stiffened, let go of me and walked away. I turned around and saw that it was not you. Same built, same size, same after shave. I did not see who it was; it could have been any of at least three different men at the party. I started to cry and after a while found Rachel and said godbye." She stopped her story and neither of us said anything for quite a while. I was prepared because I had overheard their telephone conversation. But even then, I had to force myself to remain calm. Joyce looked at me and asked, "Do you think I made all this up? Please say something; please say you can forgive me. I'm so sorry. I will never go alone to a party any more, I will never drink any alcohol any more, I love you so much George! -- Please George, please don't leave me alone. I can bear your anger, I can bear frustration, but I cannot bear you not loving me any more," she cried, and hugged me tight as if her life dependent on it. "I still love you Joyce, I have always loved you and I know you love me. The anger I feel is not so much against you, but the man that invaded you so cruelly. I don't think you made this story up. You could have kept it a secret. But you chose to tell me of your own free will and I am very glad you did. If you hadn't it would have been so much more difficult if it popped up later. You have never lied to me before, so I see no reason why you should lie to me now. Yes, I believe you. But I am not so certain that you are all together truthful about whom this man was. I think you know the identity and wish to protect him from my wrath." "But I am," she replied, "it could be one of three or four and if I said who those where, you could accuse the wrong person. That would be very wrong. Please don't make me speculate and guess; it could lead to a lot of unpleasantness for many." I knew she was lying about this, but she did it to protect my friendship with my supposedly best friend. I pressed her a bit more for appearance's sake. She was obviously relieved when I finally dropped it. "It will be difficult to forget this episode," I told Joyce, "Not because I think anything like this will happen again. But your promise to never go to a party alone, and never to drink alcohol is taking the precautions too far. I suggest you go alone to parties if I am out travelling, but abstain from any alcoholic beverages on those occasions. When we are together, I am there to protect you; you should enjoy wine and drinks made by me. You are so right; I never make strong drinks for ladies. A gentleman never does." I turned toward her kissed her lovingly on her lips and said, "However, I will always wonder who it could have been. I think we should keep to ourselves for a while trying to sort this thing out. The feeling of being cuckolded by one of my friends or acquaintances is bothering me. Just the thought of talking to somebody wondering 'was it him?' bothers me a lot. So no parties for the time being please. I have to come to terms with my own thoughts first. Ok?" "Of course, if that make it easier for you," she replied. We went to bed that evening, snuggling together and comforting each other, somehow that was what we needed that night. I loved this woman, I wanted to keep her, but I wanted to get back at Tom. He should not get away with tampering with my Joyce. I couldn't sleep, possible actions by way of revenge were thought out, each more extreme than the last, until a simple, subtle, and in his case, something that would hit him hard and to his inner core. I remembered the invitation for Sunday next: Papaver Pilosum - A Gardener's Nightmare! As we slowly drove up the driveway to their house, I said to Joyce," Firstly, please do not object to anything I say today, stay calm and do not show that you are upset. I know I am the father, but I am going to scare the shit out of Tom. Secondly, find an excuse to go to their bathroom, where you are to steal Tom's toothbrush. Do you understand what I want?" "Yes, stay calm and steal his toothbrush, but why?" she replied. "Look, I know more than you think. Just do as I say and I will explain later." And just as I had completed my instructions we rolled up in front of their house. Mira and Tom greeted us warmly and invited us up on the patio where Mira had made tea. It was a warm and nice day, Mira was very taken by the baby and the little boy went from one lap to the other. After a while the women went inside, telling me they would change the nappy. While they were inside, I looked at the garden and asked, "Why all these poppies? You are not going to win the competition this year Tom." "No, I know. I don't know what to do. It looks to me there must be millions of them and I don't have a clue how they got there," he replied. "Well, you have enemies you know. Angry husbands Tom. You have been fucking a few wives and at least one husband is fucking your garden, that's evident. The only question for you Tom, is to find out which wife and which husband. But does it matter? You will have a hell of a job to weed them out," I said. Before we could continue our dialogue the girls came out. Joyce said it was late, we had to get back before the sun went down. She did not want the baby out in an open car in the chilling evening air. While the girls loaded the baby cot in the car, I asked her loudly, "Did you find his toothbrush?" "Yes," she confirmed. Tom looked at me with an open mouth. "For the DNA, Tom," I said and continued, "Now you know who fucked up your garden and it is going to cost you a lot more you know. Have a good day." I went over to Mira, gave her a hug and said I was sorry, "I needed the revenge; I hope you are not too angry with me, but it was Tom's garden and I had to hit where it hurts." Epilogue. I knew something about Tom, something he himself was unaware of. He was shooting blanks. Mira had told me one day when she in despair asked me what she should do about his philandering. She had asked him to go to a doctor for a full check because she did never conceive. Her own doctor had confirmed all was in order with her. He was insulted by her request and refused to go. Nothing wrong with him, it had to be her fault. She told me that later she said to Tom that she had a yeast infection and asked him to use a condom until she was well. She saved a sample and brought it for her doctor to check, she was told he could not father a child. She had not told him and as he was frequently unfaithful she just wondered why she bothered. "I want a family together with a faithful husband," she said. That's why I said what I said at our departure, giving her an excuse to leave Tom for good. She knew I was pulling Tom's leg, but he did not. Tom's garden became a news item with the local TV station, as, based on last year, he was a contender in the state competition. He became the laughing stock in the gardening community, lost his interest in gardening, and when Mira left him he was a shadow of himself. A year later Mira came to Memphis, found a good job. She met and married a gallant widower with a young son. They soon had a girl together. They are now our closest friends and live in the same neighbourhood. We were lucky again, had a beautiful daughter the same year as Mira had hers. Not only the adults but the children as well play happily together. I did not want to sacrifice family for a career, so when I did well in Memphis and was offered a top job at the head office, I told them I preferred to stay where I was. The End. I wish to thank my editor, who for his own reasons, wish to be Anonymous. He does a great job arresting silly mistakes. At one of them his comment was:" I nearly laughed myself sick at this error -- etc" so I give something back -- a good laugh. I'm sure you would like to know what this mistake was, but I will not tell you. I hope you had a good read.