Chapter 1: Descent
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual, Romantic,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: Descent - As I mentioned yesterday. I have a series that I wrote over the period of a year and a half. All of these were written for different reasons. But they fit into a single narrative. Since this is a do-over I decided to repost them that way. This is Millie's story. It is the second in the series that began with, "A Totally Unromantic Love Story." If you recall Millie is the youngest of the Wilson sisters. Please enjoy and thank you for reading me. - DT
Nobody gets rich in academe. But, I work a six-hour week and earn a six figure salary so I’m not complaining. I also do consulting. And DC is a target rich environment. So I do okay.
Janet, my wife of 8 years, works for the University too. She started as an Administrative Assistant. But the girl was way too good for the minor leagues. So she is the Director of Development now.
For those of you who don’t speak “academic” Development is what we eggheads call “begging.” Janet basically charms alumni for cash. And who wouldn’t want to hand a big check to Janet? At age 35 she is still perfectly gorgeous. Her dark features and curvy figure fit her Italian heritage. And she can charm the birds down out of the trees.
She is also a very smart woman, well-read and cultured and wickedly funny. In fact, her sense of humor is the thing people remember the most about her. But in the world of fund raising her chest is the money maker. She has told me that her superb tits are a pain in the ass, mainly because they require extra care and feeding. But she will also freely admit that they open a lot of doors for her.
For instance, I remember an evening when the two of us were out with a prospect. The guy was in his late sixties and rich. The woman with him was still his starter wife, close to his age and frumpy. The prospective donor was ogling Janet like she was that proverbial puppy in the window. That was not an unusual state of affairs. The whole point of having somebody like Janet doing the asking is that she is stunningly attractive.
As the evening got drunker Janet’s mark got handsier. The guy couldn’t take his eyes off the half foot of cleavage showing in her little black dress. While he talked, the guy had his hand moving up and down on her arm, right next to her massive left tit. His wife who had arrived looking bored, now looked disgusted. At the same time, Janet was ignoring where his hand was and hanging on his every word.
I was sitting across from her. All of the time the guy was copping his pseudo feel a stocking clad foot was making its way up and down my leg. And my wife was cutting me looks that were both surreptitiously amused, and shameless enough to melt my fillings. She was clearly saying, “Can you believe this guy?” That was my Janet. Working and playing at the same time.
She left with a big check. I got my reward when we got home. I didn’t marry Janet until the middle part of my 20s. And I had a lot of female bed-partners throughout my single life. But I have never met a woman as totally abandoned in the bedroom.
I know that women like to have cocks in them. In many cases, they seem to like to have cocks in them a lot more than we like putting them there. But there is a huge qualitative difference between the ones who just lie there with their legs spread going, “Oh Baby-Baby!” and a woman like Janet. She puts her heart and soul into every fuck. And each one is a distinct masterpiece.
I never actually figured out whether she was an Olympic class sexual athlete because her passions just overwhelm her. Or whether she is simply driven to be the absolute best at everything female. But the woman could fuck you in more interesting ways than Catherine the Great.
In bed, her only aim was to get in touch with every aspect of her sexuality. And it wasn’t like she wanted to evolve into that slowly. She wanted to do it all in one night. She had no boundaries and endless stamina. Sex is hard physical exercise. And many of the women I have bedded eventually get worn-out. But Janet would just keep going and going, without the slightest loss of enthusiasm.
On nights like that we would doze off when she couldn’t get Old Lucifer out to the starting line for one more lap. Fortunately, the next day was a Saturday. Some people garden, or fish, or play golf on the weekend. We like to sail. We keep a C&C Cruising 40 at the Washington Marina and we usually take it for weekend trips down the Potomac and out into Chesapeake Bay.
Janet is a great sailing partner and with the power assists we can handle any destination by ourselves. There is nothing more romantic than sitting anchored in one of the inlets, watching the summer sun set over the Chesapeake and enjoying blue crab and a cold bottle of Pinot Grigio.
And there is nothing cozier than lying cuddled under a blanket in the cockpit of our boat, watching the stars and talking about a million things. Of course that has always inspired Janet to make the boat rock frantically most of the night.
Janet is not just my wife. She has always been my best friend and closest companion. And to say I loved her would be a gross understatement.
The University started a major fund raising drive that fall. That cut short our sailing. Janet began to take three day trips to the major population centers. Normally members of her staff would do the wining and dining. And she would do the actual “asks.” But this campaign was a big deal. So she was expected to go along with her troops as a way of communicating the University’s commitment to the process.
That was alright with me since I was also involved in some stuff with NCTC in McLean. All of that was taking up more time than either of us wanted. In fact, the hour requirements were almost like I had an honest job. They were going to wind up the campaign in New York in mid-March. The University was going to be a four-day extravaganza because there are so many of our alumni in the greater New York City area.
Janet was standing in our bedroom reviewing the contents of her roller-bag. She looked like she was trying to decide whether she had packed everything. I was checking her out as I was standing in the door. She is a beautiful woman. But when she is made-up for public consumption she is something special.
She is medium height and her long raven hair was tied up in one of those sophisticated pony tails that really stylish women adopt. It made her look intimidatingly sleek and business-like and with that gorgeous face, huge boobs and perfect little body she was a sight to behold. When I came up behind her she was chewing on her lower lip, like she was trying to decide something. I said cheerfully, “All packed?”
She jumped like I had startled her and then relaxed and leaned back into me. Her firm soft buns pushed against my rapidly growing interest. She said almost wistfully, “Have you ever wanted to just chuck the whole thing and become beach bums on St. Lucia?”
I said lightly, “The boat’s gassed up and ready. Want to leave now?”
She turned and put her arms around my neck and looked at me intently. It was like she was trying to memorize my face ... Odd reaction. Then she smiled brightly and said, “As soon as this campaign is over I am going to take you to some deserted island and ravish you like Henry Morgan sacking Panama. Count on it.”
At that point she kissed me with a stunning amount of passion. I was thinking of starting something but we both had a place to be. She was taking a cab down to Union Station to grab the Acela and I had a meeting over at the NCTC with a couple of gentlemen from a little Company in Langley.
For a change 66 wasn’t at a total dead stop so I got over there and got my business done much sooner than I expected. It was only 1:05 and I knew that Janet’s train wasn’t scheduled to leave until 2:15. I had time to surprise her. So I shot down the GW Parkway and across the Potomac on US1 to E Street and over to Union Station. It was the middle of the day and I was parked and crossing the upper gallery promptly at 1:55.
I bought a bouquet from the flower seller next to the escalators. I was planning on giving her a little spontaneous send-off. I just wanted to let her know how special she is to me. I know that was a silly romantic thing to do. But our jobs had kept us apart far too much over the past six months.
I was coming up to the boarding area for the Acela when I saw her pulling her roller bag along toward the first class car. She was absolutely radiating confident femininity. I thought to myself, “God! That woman is hot!”
I couldn’t go down the platform without a ticket so I stopped at the gate. “Damn! Just missed her!!”
Then an odd thing happened. As I was watching her stride along she reached out and took the arm of the tall man who was walking next to her. It was an intimate gesture, like the two of them were more than just fellow travelers. It made no sense.
When they turned to board I saw that it was Todd Breckenridge. Todd is the Vice President for Advancement and Janet’s boss. Basically, he is the University’s marketing and sales manager. I thought to myself, “That’s really strange. If he was going up to Manhattan with her, you would think that she would have mentioned it?”
I knew Todd from events that I had gotten dragged to. I found him to be way too slick and arrogant. He always seemed to condescend to us faculty types. It was like he thought that we didn’t know what the real world was like.
That was only fair because I condescended right back. He might be a good looking, and very self-assured preppie, but he wasn’t that bright. And I consult in counter-terrorism. So I have a clue. I knew Janet had to interact with him at work. But I got the impression she thought he was a jerk. Todd was in the process of helping Janet into the car and handing her the bag. I did not like the way his hands lingered possessively on her as he did it.
I walked back to the parking structure with mice nibbling at my brain stem. I was a little disturbed that she had not mentioned that she was traveling with Todd. It made perfect sense that he would accompany Janet on this trip. This was the grand finale of an important campaign.
I just wish she had mentioned it to me.
Of course maybe her forgetfulness was due to the fact that the asshole is a well-known cock-hound. His wife kicked him out for his philandering and he has relentlessly hit on everybody with a dress since then. Maybe she thought that I would be less worried if I didn’t know that she would be in a strange town with that predatory fucker.
In that respect, I could understand why she kept it from me. I was suffering pangs of jealousy just at the thought of what I had seen on the platform. It bothered me enough, that I gave my buddy Eddie a call. Eddie; not Edward, or Ed, is the VP for IT at the University and he operates in the same circles as Todd and Janet. I just wanted to get his take on their relationship.
We met for a beer at Martin’s Tavern, which is down the street from where I live. In its 75 years, a lot of covert information has been passed at Martin’s. This was one of those times.
Eddie is a laid-back kind of guy. He is in charge of a big budget at the University and you might expect him to be a cold blooded bureaucrat. But by origin, he is a West Virginia good-old-boy.
And he is as country as a misty holler in the morning. He is also about six foot five so he stood out when he came in. I motioned him over. I had a pitcher in front of me and poured him a mug. He looked quizzical, sat and drawled, “John, ain’t seen you in a coon’s-age. Why now?”
Did I mention that he plays hillbilly to the hilt? I got right to the point. I said, “I was wondering about Janet and Todd Breckenridge.” He knew them both very well, because he sat in a lot of meetings with the Advancement side of the organization.
He stopped and pondered in his unhurried southern manner. It looked like he was trying to carefully frame the thing he was about to say.
He drawled, “Waaaall, they have been a lot friendlier of late. He’s a pussy hound fur-sure and it looks to me like he is barking up her tree. She ain’t given him anything as far as I can see. But he keeps tryin and he IS her boss.”
I did my best to not look as stricken as I felt. I said, “So let me get this straight. Breckenridge is putting a full court press on Janet. And she can’t outright tell him to get lost because he’s her direct superior. Is that what you are telling me?”
He looked at me with that shrewd good-old-boy expression of his and said, “Yep! That’s what I’m telling ya.”
We killed the better part of the evening talking about nerd things. We all play parts when we are with other people. It’s the way we filter how others perceive us. When it comes to playing West Virginia ridge-runner, Eddie might be larger-than-life than Jed Clampett himself. But his doctorate is from MIT. And his expertise is in my field. So we had a few things to talk about.
I walked back to the house in a beautiful April evening feeling very ill at ease. I had seen them together and Janet didn’t look like she was putting up any barriers between her and the dude. In fact, if you had seen the two of them walking to the train you would have gotten the impression that she was with him as a couple.
She had made numerous fund raising trips over the past six months. I wondered how many of those her boss had gone on. It would make perfect sense for the most important guy in the Advancement area and his second in command to travel together. Especially to the final event in the campaign. But the situation was far too convenient if hanky-panky was on the menu.
It was late enough in the evening that it was time for my call. I dialed Janet’s cell and she answered right away. She was as bright and loving as always. I said, “Hello my love. Time to tuck you in for the evening.”
She giggled and said “Why don’t you come up here to Manhattan and tuck me in properly?” I said, “I would love to but you have work to do. I’ll just have to settle for doing that as soon as you get home and for the rest of your life.” She giggled again.
I was going to mention Breckenridge but it just didn’t seem right. I would sound like a jealous wimp whining about her boss being there. More importantly, I had reached the point where I wanted to investigate the situation further so I didn’t want to tip her off.
Suspicion is an insidious disease. Once you catch it you never really get over of it. Suspicion also makes you do sneaky things. I was suddenly dying from a bad case of misgiving. And I had to find the cure. As a first test, I dialed the hotel and asked to be connected to her room. I would make it sound like an afterthought. That is, if she answered. But the phone rang for an eternity.
I tried again an hour later. Same result. It didn’t prove anything. She might still be working. But there was another explanation. THAT was sending shivers up my spine. I was in panic mode. Nevertheless, I am still a little bit ashamed of what I did next. My only excuse is that I had to find out. And finding out was so ridiculously easy.
Thanks to the new generation of malware, you don’t have to sneak around to spy on somebody. And old-fashioned bugging and video cameras are just so dreadfully 1990s. She was 200 miles away in Manhattan. Be that as it may, what I planned to do would make me the invisible man in her room. And I would never leave the convenience of our den while I was doing it.
I crafted a routine e-mail to Janet. It said, “Can you take a look at this contract when you get a chance? I need your opinion by tomorrow. What do you think?” And attached a pdf with a copy of a consulting contract that she knew I was trying to get signed.
Janet is the money person. So she would be the right family member to deal with contracts. She and I had already talked about the terms of the engagement. All she had to do was look the contract over for me. And since Janet is a fundraiser, not a computer geek, she would never notice that she was downloading an extra 20 megabytes of something very nasty.
Those additional lines of code were a piece of mischief that I had picked up from my friends at the George Bush Center. The virus is known colloquially as Flame. It has been in the wild for a couple of years but I had the weaponized version. The one that a certain nation state dropped on the Iranians.
Flame is one of about 100,000 reasons why the internet has entirely changed the realities of our world. Especially when it comes to personal privacy. In essence I sent my purportedly innocent wife a spy program that would turn her laptop into my own personal observation platform.
In effect, I would be watching things from the other side of the looking glass. And I could capture everything that went on within the range of its camera and microphone. That trick took nothing more than a click of my mouse.
She didn’t do the download and response until late the following afternoon. Basically, her return email told me that I now owned her computer. I activated the virus as soon as I saw that it was enabled. The picture and sound came up like I was standing in the room.
Most people staying in a motel room keep their laptop open on the little desk on the wall across from the bed. The design is an architectural staple in every hotel room in America, since the bureau also holds the TV.
Her laptop happened to be on, although I could have turned it on if had to. Its orientation was toward the right side of the bed.
How wonderfully fortuitous ... I was now watching her room live and in real-time. I could hear the shower running. Then Janet walked past the camera and sat down to dry her hair. She was completely nude. As she reached up with the towel those magnificent breasts stood out proudly in high definition. Water was dripping off her big sexy brown nipples.
She said teasingly, “Wow!!! That was some shower!”
A male voice out of range of the camera to its left said, “That only got me started.” And Breckenridge, walked past the camera. He was dripping too. He stopped and stood in front of her naked. The boner he was sporting definitely looked ready.
Every warning bell and claxon in my brain went off simultaneously!! I actually shouted, “What the fuck is he doing there??!” Although she couldn’t hear me.
The answer was agonizingly obvious. She said in that “fuck me” tone of voice, the one that she only uses when she is really turned on, “Here lover, let me take care of that.” And she swallowed his sword.
He groaned loudly, and grabbed the back of her wet head. Up to this point I had thought that I was the sole beneficiary of one of Janet’s blow jobs. She is a master of the art and I knew what he was feeling. Her moaning and bobbing around his cock killed me. It totally blew up my heart. My systems flickered and then came back on line.
I needed to do something. So I dialed her number, totally freaked out. I didn’t do it because I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to see if she would respond to my call. She was working on his shaft like it was a hot day and it was a cool Popsicle. She stopped the enjoyment noises when the phone buzzed. She glanced down, confirmed it was me and hit the decline button.
Then she went back to fallating the shithead like his cock was the only source of oxygen in the room. Seriously???!!! I was done watching. I set the thing to record.
Most of you have probably had events in your life that are so incredibly shocking that you can’t process them. Things like the death of a loved one, or an unexpected firing, or discovering that the woman you loved and expected to grow old with was a cheating whore.
Some of you might cry. Some of you might hit something. Others of you might get drunk. In my case, my vision started to flicker again and I dropped into a fugue state.
I didn’t pass out per se. It was more like being in a coma, or just dead. I wasn’t aware of what was happening but my mind had retreated deep within its psychic bomb shelter to preserve itself. Every internal system from consciousness, to basic emotion simply went off-line. I was like a zombie.
I came out of it still seated in front of my workstation. I had not slept, or even slumped in the chair. But it was bright sunlight outside. So it was clearly the next day. I looked at the clock. I had been sitting upright in the chair for close to 7 hours.
My muscles were killing me and it took several minutes to get stretched out enough to be able to walk. I was back to being aware of the world around me, but all of my inner structures had burned to the ground. I was hollow.
I don’t know how other people might react to what I had just witnessed. But I was totally wiped out. You go along in one version of reality. And then when the picture shifts, it is hard to make a quick transition into the new universe.
I mean, give me a break! As far as I knew Janet had been my best friend and loving wife for the past 4,380 days. This other reality was not even one day old. My thoughts were almost laughably clichéd. “How could she do something like that? How often has she done something like that? And every cuckold’s favorite question, how many other men has she done that with?”
Denial is the first stage of grief. You try to spin what you saw. But I had a huge MP4 documenting the facts in glorious high definition and digital sound. It was hard to deny THAT!
Janet was not in her room. She and shithead must have been out doing whatever they were getting paid to do. Or maybe they were fucking in another room? Either way it didn’t matter. I sent the kill command to the virus and shut off the link. They would never know how I had done it.
It would take some time to wade through the entire recording. They tell you to never watch your spouse’s infidelity. That is, if you ever plan to reconcile. That wasn’t an issue with me since we were finished. The only open question was how to make the break?
It isn’t the betrayal of trust that impacts you. It is the tangible evidence that your basic assumptions about the inevitability of your married relationship and even your life are incorrect. There are things in everybody’s life that we just assume are a given. At the top of that list is the belief that both partners in a marriage will remain faithful. If you are normal, it never crosses your mind to think otherwise.
So once you see that fundamental assumption blown up, you begin to question all of the other things that you presumed were true. That is a very dark and lonely road to travel indeed. And I was well on my way down it.
I knew to the core of my soul that reconciliation with Janet was out of the question. So I tried to view whatever fucking and sucking I had captured as nothing more than information. It would be ammunition for what I needed. Which was utter scorched earth. It would be absolute war to the knife.
Revenge is a purifying emotion. It focuses and carries you through the maelstrom of less satisfactory feelings that swirl around when you are betrayed like that. It makes you feel less helpless and lost. More importantly it lets you get control back.
I showered and dressed. My rational mind was already formulating a plan. I was alternating between wild bouts of anger and the lack of any feeling whatsoever. I was a little concerned about the latter state. Since I couldn’t laugh, cry, or even feel impatient with the idiots in DC traffic. If there was any emotion inside me at all it was my ruthless need for vengeance.
I was hoping that latter condition would pass. Being totally numb helps you get through the shock but I would have to get-on with my life somehow. And spending the rest of it obsessing about ever more creative ways to even the score just seemed so totally fucked-up.
I was headed for the bank and then to my lawyer Bernie’s office. First I did the usual clichéd financial protection things. I divided our assets and shared out the bonds and stocks. I put all of my share in another bank and left the rest in our joint account for Janet.
Bernie is a college buddy. He was born to be a lawyer and he has always handled all of my legal affairs. He is a totally good guy and an aficionado of Jewish humor. So he is also a lot of fun to have a beer with. I told him what had happened and what evidence I had. I told him that there was no chance that I could stay married to Janet. So I asked him to draw up what he considered to be a fair settlement offer.
He looked sympathetic and said, “Are you sure that this is what you want to do? It’s kind of hasty. You and Janet have always been a perfect couple and from everything I have ever seen she loves you. I can’t conceive of any circumstance that would make her do what you described. Have you talked to her about it yet?”
I said, “I don’t need to talk to her. I saw it and I don’t care about reasons. The faster I put this behind me the better. I have to somehow put my overwhelming feelings of anger, loneliness and distress behind me.”
Then I broke down. Bernie’s office must have caused it. It felt like I had reached a safe harbor after battling a terrible storm.
And it was fucking embarrassing! I have cried exactly once in my life. It was when my mother died. Even then her passing was something I had anticipated and I acted a lot less like a little baby girl. This time the whole miserable reality blindsided me and I just couldn’t cope. I was totally overcome by deep personal heartache.
Three days ago I had been a happily married man with a wife who was my best friend, companion and lover. That was obviously an illusion. I didn’t even know the slut on the video. It was like I had lived my life in two parallel universes. There was the one dimension where we were a happy respectful couple and then there was the one where I had always been the hapless fool.
I wondered which life was the real one. I suspected that I knew the answer to that. Bernie had not anticipated my acting like such a sniveling weenie. How could he. I am always so controlled and rational. So he freaked out when I started caterwauling and began yelling for his secretary.
Gladys is a kind and nurturing older woman. She knows what lawyers do. She put the picture together in about six nanoseconds. She grabbed a bunch of paper towels from Bernie’s bathroom and fed them to me one at a time as she held my head on her ample, matronly bosom. All the time she was making sympathy noises.
I finally stopped my blubbing. Did I mention how humiliating that was? But it DID make me feel better. I looked at Bernie with apology and said, “You know what I need you to do.” God! After the exhibition I had just put on he would have to be totally brain dead to NOT understand what I needed him to do.
I said, “This is a no-fault jurisdiction so file ‘irreconcilable differences’ but make it clear to her lawyer that in case she pushes back I have all of the evidence that I need to ruin her personally and professionally. I want this to be over quick.”
Bernie said, “Not a problem. I can have the papers for you by tomorrow noon. Is that what you want? Where do you want her served?”
I said, “She gets back at 6:00 PM tomorrow. I would like her served at home as soon as possible after that. I am going to leave something that will make the reasons for the divorce self-explanatory.” He nodded and I went home to the hard part.
I had recorded too much fucking-sucking and pillow-talking to make an efficient documentary. So I created a “greatest hits” version of her night with shithead, just to establish the salient points. But in order to distill out thirty golden minutes I had to plow through close to five hours of heart-rending shit.
Bernie had asked me if a hasty divorce action was a reasonable response after eight good years. I was semi-wondering that too until I actually made my demonstration video. After watching how much she enjoyed her little fuck-fest, all I could think about was getting as far away from the bitch as possible.
Janet is a passionate woman and that was on full display. I have heard that some men get turned on watching their wife fuck. I was sickened by it. I have always considered myself a rational and reasonable person. But after what I witnessed, her especially grizzly murder seemed like a mouthwateringly desirable option.
I packed all of my stuff and loaded it into my car. There was nothing I wanted from that house other than my clothes and a few personal things. I had left the evidence running in a loop on the workstation. Of course I had that show and the raw footage on a portable drive that I was taking with me.
Then I closed the door on the past decade of my life. I left a simple note propped against the monitor.
It said, “I am sorry that you chose to do this to us. And I apologize for any failure on my part in our relationship. I loved you with all my heart. I will forever value what we had as husband and wife. But there is no coming back from this betrayal.
“If you have not been served before you read this you will be in a few short minutes. I tried to be scrupulously fair in the settlement and I hope that you will not fight this. The sooner I have you out of my life the sooner I can move on.
“I need time to heal so please respect me enough to NOT communicate with me. If we see each other on campus, please have the consideration to head the other way. I will probably never stop loving you and I do not need to be reminded of what I have lost. I wish you had valued it more.
“Perhaps someday we can get together and you can tell my why – Still with Love – Billy Joe.”
I drove down to my new digs. That would be our boat. I had gotten all of my internal systems back on-line and the space around me was familiar. So I was almost feeling normal. That is until I thought about the bitch and her lover. Then I got back in touch with my homicidal side.
I always considered personal revenge a childish emotion, better left to the lesser brains. That is until it happened to me. Now I was a raving monster. I planned on inflicting maximum pain on shithead and I knew exactly what it would take for me to be satisfied. I wanted a total life extinction event for that mother-fucker. But there was one piece of unfinished business I had to get out of the way first.
I called Jill as soon as I was done moving into the boat. I am not particularly social. But I have a few people who I naturally gravitate toward. That was Tom and Jill. They are both very good people. Jill has been Janet’s best friend and confidant since they were in College. She is married to Tom who is definitely my best friend.
Jill was delighted to hear from me. She said, “Hey eligible bachelor man. How about coming over for dinner so we can keep you out of the dating pool while your wife is gone? We’re grilling steaks.” She had no idea how totally inappropriate that little remark was.
I laughed and said, “I would love a steak and a little conversation if you could spare the time.” An hour later I was sitting on their back deck drinking a beer and enjoying a perfectly cooked Sirloin. They were sitting opposite me at the table. I said, “I have something very important to tell both of you. So is it okay if we skip the banter?”
Both of them looked puzzled and a little concerned. Jill said, “Sure, fire away!” I was looking directly in her eyes when I said, “Is there anything you need to tell me about Janet?” The blast doors slammed shut. But before that happened I saw the shift in her eyes. It was unmistakable.
Jill took her time. It looked like she was carefully thinking through her answer. She said, “Janet is going through a difficult time. She loves you to distraction. But there are powerful, and I might add evil forces at work, which she simply can’t disregard and which are confusing her.
Jill looked pensive and then said, “She has told me about it. But I am guessing from the way you asked the question that you already know what she is dealing with. That is as much as I know. But I ALSO know that she is fighting with everything that she has to keep this from upsetting you.”
She said with conviction, “Janet is a good person and you are her one true love. She doesn’t feel she can talk about it with you without altering your relationship, since she can’t get out of the circumstance without quitting her job. But you have to understand that her present state is truly distressing and embarrassing to her.”
I could tell from Jill’s rationalizations that she was as clueless as I was. That would make a big difference in our association going forward. If she had known about shithead and not told me, I would have been done with both of them too.
I said, “Seriously??! Well that’s very odd, since she didn’t look very embarrassed when I videoed her and her boss fucking for about five straight hours, in very creative ways. I just need you two to know that I am divorcing her.”
That dropped on them like the meteor that killed off the dinosaurs. In fact, it might have actually been a little over the top cruel. They are very nice people and didn’t deserve to be hit with that. But my judgment was still a little off. At least, as far as common sense was concerned.
Both of them turned white. Jill looked like she was going to pass out. She steadied herself and said, “What did you just say? You’re divorcing Janet?”
I said, “The papers get served tomorrow. I left a video to illustrate the reason why. It is pretty X rated. And don’t ask me how I got it.” Both Jill and Tom probably thought I had hired a Private Investigator. Which would be 20th Century thinking, not the 21st.
Jill spluttered, “But this will kill her. She loves you to distraction. I can’t believe she would betray you. Was it with Todd Breckenridge? He was the one pressuring her to have sex.”
I said, “Believe it baby! And she didn’t look particularly pressured as she was declining my call in order to concentrate on sucking his cock.” I was being intentionally crude to reinforce that the old Billy was dead and that a new avenging angel had risen to take his place.
Jill looked appalled. She was speechless. Tom came over and put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a man-squeeze. Then he sat back down and said, “Is there anything we can do to help? We love both of you and I want you to know that we are here to support you no matter what.”
I said, “Thanks buddy.” Then I looked at Jill and said, “Janet is going to need you at about 6:30 tomorrow evening. I still love the bitch even if I can never be married to her and I want you to take good care of her.”
Then I said with grim determination in my voice, “I will accept rational discussion after I overcome my overwhelming desire to kill her and drop her body in the Potomac. But life is too short to hear about what might have been. I particularly don’t want to hear about how sorry she is.”
I told both of them that I valued our relationship. And that all I expected from them was to continue to obey the simple rules of friendship. I told them that I would be living in the boat until things died down. I asked Jill to make sure Janet did not try to visit me there.
I got up and we did a group hug. I walked to my car trying hard to not look like a beaten man. The only thing that was keeping me going was the knowledge that Breckenridge and Janet would have an equally bleak outlook after tomorrow.
I awoke the next day in the cabin of the boat. The world might have come to an end. But it was still a bright and sunny April day in DC. The boat was a little cramped but comfortable enough. And it would be home for the foreseeable future. The Marina itself is like a little village. So there were people busily coming and going on the dock. And at that time of the morning it was like living on Main Street USA.
My phone had about 27 voicemails on it. They were all from Janet. I had a feeling that Jill had called her. I bulk deleted them and went off looking for breakfast. There is a hotel next to the Marina. It’s one of those cheap tourist traps but it serves a buffet. I read the Post and eased into my day.
I still had to lecture and so I took the Metro from the Waterfront SEU Station across town to the University. It was a long walk from Foggy Bottom but it was one of those gorgeous spring days in DC. The humidity hadn’t arrived yet and the City was alive around me.
I began to think about the rest of my life. The brisk exercise of the walk helped. The first rays of hope had started to seep into my soul. Janet was history but I was still only 38 years old. Maybe I could find somebody and start a family?
I marveled at humans. They are amazingly resilient creatures. This was Thursday morning and I had been a vegetable Tuesday night. It is astonishing what two days of perspective will do for you. I finished my lecture and headed for the President’s Office.
There were 12 more calls on my phone. I deleted them as I was walking. The President and I have always gotten along. I bring in a ton of grant money and that gets their attention in the Administration Building. When I was seated he did the usual coffee or tea thing. I politely declined. He said, “So what brings you here Billy Joe, more funding I hope?” And he grinned at his little joke.
I said, “I have a serious case of malfeasance to discuss with you.”
His eyes went instantly feral. It is never a good idea to utter a word like “malfeasance” in the presence of a University President. At least, not without iron-clad proof in hand. It strikes at the very heart of their leadership. I had that proof on the tablet computer that I was clutching. I would use it if need be. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.
He said, “That is a very serious charge. Who are you accusing?” And he began shuffling the papers in front of him. It was a display of pure agitation.
I said, “The person I am accusing is your Vice President for Marketing and University Advancement.” I couldn’t bring myself to say the fucker’s name.
I said, “I have evidence here,” and gestured to my tablet, “That he has been carrying on a clandestine affair with one of his subordinates while representing the University to the donor community.”
I thought the President was going to have apoplexy when I said that. Donors are the people who keep University Presidents on their thrones. Any canoodling in front of them would be a threat to his OWN position. I said, “The other person is my wife Janet.” He blanched, “And that is the reason why I am in possession of this.”
I handed him two stills. They were extremely compromising. In the one she was swallowing his cock to its root and in the other he was banging her doggy style, a look of utter ecstasy on both of their faces. The President was appalled. Oooops! I had forgotten about his vow of abstinence.
He started to reach for the phone. Then he remembered that both of them were still in New York. As his hand was hovering over the phone I said in as non-threatening a voice as possible, “I believe that the University owes me recompense. Your failure to properly supervise your two subordinates has cost me my marriage and my happiness.”
That was something he could deal with. He withdrew his hand and got that cagy CEO look. You could see that he was asking himself, “How much will it cost to make this go away?”
I said, “You might think that I am planning a civil action and that could still happen. But all you would have to do to bury this problem forever are two simple things, “First, fire Todd Breckenridge for gross malfeasance, which you are going to do anyhow. And second, promote my soon to be ex-wife into his position.”
He looked poleaxed. He had no problem honoring the first request. We both knew that he was going to make fuck-face disappear with extreme prejudice. It might not be like it was in the good old days. But the Jesuits are still very capable of disposing of people who have become inconvenient.
But why give Janet a big promotion? It made no sense to him. In order to help his decision process, I said with all of the fake sincerity that I could muster, “Of course I am divorcing her. But I don’t want to leave her destitute. It was Breckenridge who seduced her so she is in essence a victim here.”
I didn’t believe what I had said for one second. But I had my own reasons to for my demands. And since he was a priest I thought he might buy-into that my genetically engineered version of the truth. Plus, it staked out my position as a good guy.
My actual motives were a whole lot less altruistic. I knew that it would absolutely destroy Breckenridge to be canned. And that he would detect my fine hand in his downfall when he discovered that Janet had his job. That was exactly what I wanted.
I also knew that Janet would suffer tons of agonizing guilt if she got a promotion for shitting on me. But my nefarious aim was to ensure that she made more money than me, hence no alimony. I was simply not going to pay the bitch one red cent.
Finally, and more delectably, if she had just aced shithead out of his job it would probably eliminate any further canoodling between the two of them. In fact, it might make him actually want to throttle her, which I had absolutely no problem with.
How I got this vindictive was a puzzlement. But Janet’s betrayal was one of those tectonic shifts that had changed me. And the person who was emerging from the cataclysm was a brand new, not particularly nice version of my former self.
I believe it was the great American philosopher Arnold Schwarzenegger who said, “That which does not kill you makes you stronger.” Well that was the case here.
The President cogitated for a minute and then he said, “Okay, we can do that. I don’t think that your wife should benefit from her immoral behavior. But I can see where it will make it extremely difficult for both of them. Which is a fitting reward for their sins.”
Then he gave me a conspiratorial wink. The old boy had it all figured out. He was really pretty hip for a man who had pledged to never take a wife. And after what I had just gone through, I was beginning to think that he had the right idea.
I said, “So we’re in agreement. You will fire Breckenridge tomorrow and promote Janet?” He said, “As long as the evidence of their affair never sees the light of day.”
I said, “You can count on that. Since, it is too humiliating for me personally. It might be displayed in the Judge’s Chambers during the divorce but that is privileged information that cannot be legally shared.”
The old guy actually patted me on the back as I left. He seemed almost giddy at how cleverly the two of us had administered justice. The rest of the day was uneventful. I bought the bachelor essentials, beer and a few good cigars The real pain hadn’t hit me full force yet. That would happen when the infinite parade of lonely days started marching past.
As I was sitting in the aft part of the cockpit I had pounded a six pack and smoked a Dominican Cohiba. I was watching the traffic on the Potomac. Savoring the pain that I was about to inflict on Janet was the only thing that was keeping me from tying one of the boat’s anchors around my ankles and diving into the river.
She would be getting home about now. And she would find all of the lovely gifts that I had left for her. First there would be my note, accompanied by her little porn show. That would be followed by the divorce petition and then a night of getting used to life without me as her husband.
I hoped she was suffering as much as I was. Anger and retribution are an excellent antidote when your only thoughts are about how badly you miss your wife and how much you still love her. Then the weight of the injustice landed on me like one of those cartoon grand pianos and I found myself howling at the moon, “WHY??!!”
My God! That was embarrassing!!!
Day four of the rest of my life promised another nice sunny April day.
I followed the previous day’s routine. The buffet was satisfying and the long walk from Foggy Bottom to the University was stimulating. And I absolutely aced my lecture. The students looked appropriately worshipful as they picked up their stuff and filed out.
I was thankful that one part of me was still functioning, which was the academician. I have always been an avid teacher. That has led to a successful career. Now I was ready to double-down and bury myself in my work. It made me look forward to the future.
What happened next was probably the Fates giving me back something for fucking me over like they had. I didn’t plan it. It was pure happenstance. But it was supremely enjoyable.
As I walked back toward 37th street I passed in front of the Dean’s Office. When who should appear but two burly campus policemen and Todd Breckenridge. They all seemed to be moving in the general direction of the parking lot. It looked like he was being escorted off campus for the last time.
The moment Breckenridge laid eyes on me he began to yell, “YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! I know you did this to me!! You and that lying cunt I had so much fun fucking!!!” And he broke from his escort to run at me.
I saw him coming all the way. And as he approached I turned toward him with a completely self-satisfied smirk on my face. I needed him to know how pleased I was. I could see what was about to happen and made a split second decision. I could definitely use this.
I deflected the haymaker that he threw with my shoulder. And it bounced off the very top of my head. It actually hurt a little bit. But the flop I executed was worthy of a World Cup soccer player in the last minutes of the game. I let out a loud cry of pain, threw my hands up and almost somersaulted backwards to lie sprawled on my back on the sidewalk.
As my arm went up I managed to flip my sun glasses spectacularly into the air to land another ten feet behind me. It looked like a devastating blow.
It was a masterpiece of the art of acting. Shithead was about to follow up with a kick to my ribs when the first campus cop reached him. The guy grabbed fuck-face around the neck with his beefy forearm and threw a punch to his kidney that made his eyes glaze over. Then he threw him face first on the sidewalk and the other one handcuffed him.
While that was all going on I arose to my feet pretending to be injured and extremely woozy. The other cop picked up my sunglasses and handed them to me. I looked at him gratefully and said in my most humble voice, “Thank you for saving me officer. I was so frightened”
That was perhaps a little over the top in the bullshit department. But the cop looked stalwart and said with false modesty, “No need to thank me. Just doing my job.” My little voice was laughing its ass off. But none of that showed in my eyes.
He said, “What do you want us to do with this guy Professor Butler? Do you want to press charges?” This was getting a whole lot better than I could have ever imagined. My little voice was rubbing its hands together in glee.
I said in my most indignant, “highly civilized” tone of voice, “Of course I do officer. That man assaulted me in broad daylight right here on our campus. I will do whatever it takes to ensure orderliness and civility in academia.”
I knew that I sounded like a total pussy. But I wanted to make sure that Breckenridge got the book thrown at him. And playing the injured party like I was only made his unprovoked assault on me seem all the more heinous – “hee-hee-hee”.
My little voice was thinking to itself, “Shithead ought to enjoy his 90 days in the DC Jail. Then we can talk about the civil suit.” I truly believe that karma has a way of evening things up. And this was one of those golden moments.
Sunday night I was sitting on the quarterdeck of the boat. It was looking like the six-pack and cigar ritual was going to become a daily event. The weather had warmed up and the Cherry Blossoms at the Tidal Basin were in full bloom. It had finally hit me that I was totally alone now and waves of sorrow just washed over me. The dark desolation set in.
That was when my phone rang. I have gotten into the habit of checking the caller ID to make sure I didn’t accidently answer one of Janet’s calls. She had stopped calling as frequently as she had earlier. But she still called a couple of times a day. I think that was just to keep on my radar.
It was Jill so I answered. She said, “Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?”
I said, “Sure babe. As long as your husband doesn’t mind having his sexy woman dining with a single guy.”
She said with some heat, “You aren’t single yet and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” A bolt of angst shot through me. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Janet.
I said, “You aren’t going to try to talk to me about getting back together with her are you? And if she is there when I arrive I am going to turn around and walk away.”
She said, “I know better than that and so does she. I just want to update you about her and talk about the way forward. I promise no justifications, or begging.”
I said, “Well in that case let’s meet at 2:15 at the Tombs. This is exam week but I have to eat.” She said, “See you there.” I didn’t like her tone of voice. It sounded like she was steeling herself for a confrontation.
The next day I was sitting in the Tombs with a beer in front of me admiring the décor. The place truly looks like a campus hangout and the lunches aren’t half bad.
Jill appeared in the door and I waved her over. I forgot how much she looked like a less busty version of Janet. The sight of her sent a flaming arrow through my heart. She was wearing a simple black skirt and frilly white top. With her cute face, slim figure and dressed as she was she could easily pass for a coed. Except she was 15 years out of school.
She smiled with her eyes as she came bustling over and sat down. She said, “How are you doing? I heard Todd Breckenridge beat you up on Friday. Are you okay?”
She said with contempt in her voice, “He is still in the DC Jail. They are making it aggravated assault because the officers witnessed it and they said that he really messed you up. He is dead-meat now - you know. He is going to get some prison time for sure. He could get a year for that.”
Ah, the value of good acting. I said, “The rumors of my demise are a little overstated. And how do you know all of that?”
I actually knew why she knew it. And it sent a fresh wave of pain through me. But I wanted it confirmed. She said, “Because he called Janet to try to convince her to bail him out. She laughed at him and hung up.”
I poured Jill a beer from my pitcher and said, “So let’s cut to the chase. I know you are not here because of my overwhelming charm and sex appeal.”
She dimpled prettily and said, “Well, if it wasn’t for my love for Tom it could be. But yes, I want to close the loop. I know you won’t talk to Janet but it is cruel to let her just dangle. So I am here in her place. She is totally devastated, as I suppose you know.”
Jill looked in my eyes for a response. Getting none she continued with, “She never expected you to find out. But she also told me that she knew how smart you are and she should have known you would discover a way. By the way, what tipped you off?”
I said, “If I had not tried to make a romantic gesture I would still have been the ignorant but happy cuckold. And in some respects I wish I hadn’t. I rushed over to Union Station to surprise her with flowers for her trip. I saw her and Breckenridge boarding the train. I didn’t like the way they were interacting with each other.”
I smiled grimly, “I am not going to get into the details of how I caught them. That is too technical and boring. But I can assure you that I was, in effect, standing in the same room for the entire five-hour ordeal. I saw everything that they did and I heard it all, including the pillow talk.”
Jill’s eyes widened. She said, “Then you already know what was happening. I don’t have to explain it.”
I said, “Well, I recognized most of it. You might explain to me how a woman could enjoy anal sex as much as Janet did though. I would think that would really hurt.”
Jill looked disgusted. She said, “You know what I’m talking about. You know why she did it.”
I said -- and I actually was not trying to play dumb here --,” It was obvious why she did it. She loved all five hours of it. THAT I know.”
Jill said, “You couldn’t tell from the pillow talk that she was in bed with the guy because he had finally pressured her into having sex with him? It was the only time. And she was doing it because he promised her that he would leave her alone if she gave herself to him that one time.”
THAT must have been the most personally insulting statement I had ever heard. Nobody could think that I was that excruciatingly simple minded, unless they were brain damaged. More likely Janet and Jill were building a handy-dandy excuse to avoid personal responsibility.
My little voice said, “Excuse me?!! Does she think I’m an idiot?!!”
Janet’s rationalization was so spectacularly self-serving that I almost thought that she might actually believe it. And if she truly thought that she could make that cockhound back off by fucking him, she was even stupider than her friend for repeating it.
Seriously!!?? Jill had to be a very loyal person indeed if she was willing to truck that wheelbarrow full of horseshit in here.”
I wanted to say, “Let me give you a more likely explanation. That asshole’s pushing her for sex gave her a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card to try it on with somebody different.” But Jill was looking at me with sincerity. She really believed the bitch. What a faithful friend!
So I said, “That was never mentioned in between the spectacular bouts of jungle sex. Of course most of what I overhead was them catching their breath.”
I added, like I was conceding something, “He DID tell her that she was the hottest fuck he had ever had. And she DID tell him that he had rocked her world more than any other man she had ever been with. That hurt you know. But I got the impression that they couldn’t leave each other alone.”
Jill said, “She hates the guy. Everything you saw was her trying to document a sexual harassment claim. She was even recording the whole thing to use as evidence. She would never have said anything encouraging because she was trying to trap him.”
I had to throw the bullshit flag on that one. I said, “There were about ten different ways she could have done that without fucking him. That was just an excuse for her getting a little extramarital strange.”
Nonetheless, now that I thought about it the comments I could remember DID all seem to be aimed at establishing that what she was doing was not something she normally did. But whatever she was thinking, she had reduced our marriage vows to burnt toilet paper. Her motivations were irrelevant. The only pertinent fact was that she had done it.
Jill was clearly trying to win me back for Janet by convincing me that her night of passion was a one shot attempt to set up a guy who was harassing her. That actually pissed me off. I didn’t have any thoughts about the premise. But fucking somebody five times in a five-hour period and clearly enjoying every second of it was not something that I wanted in a wife.
And there was nothing either of them could say or do to mitigate that. Janet always thinks she is smarter than everybody, me included. And in most cases she is. My guess was that she had contrived her little plot and felt perfectly comfortable in executing it because she had really persuaded herself it was the way to get fuck- face off her back. While at the same time she could have a little guilt-free fling. That seemed perfectly Janet.
She would have the evidence to hold over the guy and it would never hurt me because I would be none the wiser. In fact, if I had not seen them together at Union Station that would have probably been the case.
The problem was that it DID happen. And I witnessed it. Worse I had watched it several times in high definition. My little voice commented mockingly, “They really should have turned off the lights.”
I said, “How does that affect me? It won’t change my mind about divorcing her and I am sure the courts will see it my way since adultery is still a valid cause. I couldn’t possibly take her back after what I saw. In fact, I don’t even want to talk to her.”
Jill said, “If you don’t want to reconcile with her, why did you arrange for her to be promoted? You got rid of her problem and elevated her to an important position. Why would you do something like that if you didn’t love her? That makes no sense.”
I said, “I beg your pardon?!! I love her with all of my heart, whatever that means. And there is no other woman in the world for me. What I did was make sure she could lead the rest of her life without me. That was done for love. But she is just going to have to understand and accept that she killed our marriage and blew me up as collateral damage.”
I didn’t want to tell her that the promotion was just my way of ensuring that I didn’t have to give the bitch anything. Since the actual reason might make me sound a little less noble.
I said with sincerity, “Tell her to move on with my best wishes. But I never want to see her again. I am going to take a year’s sabbatical away from here to reinforce that. The University knows that it owes me. And when I get back I am going to pick up my life like she never existed.”
Jill gave me a beaten look. I didn’t want to hurt her but I had to get the message across that both Janet and she were killing me by prolonging the agony. I said as gently as possible, “You and Tom are my friends. Please don’t think that I feel anything but love and admiration for you. But tell Janet not to fight the divorce. She is getting the house and a healthy settlement. And she is a high mucky-muck now.”
I said sadly, “She is a beautiful woman and she will find somebody to replace me. Unfortunately, that will not be as easy for me to do. So would all of you please be kind enough to just leave me alone and let me try to start over?”
Jill smiled sympathetically. But she said bitterly, “I will do that. And I will convince Janet to do it too. But the one thing you are wrong about is thinking that she will replace you. She has never loved anybody but you. And she will always love you. Nobody will ever substitute for you in her heart.”
Then she stood up. Smoothed her dress and gave my forearm a squeeze. She said, “I’ll tell her everything you said. But I hope you understand that Janet did not think that any of this would happen. And she regrets it to the very core of her soul.”
I said “I’ll take your word for it but it doesn’t change anything. There is no possible way we could have a married relationship now.”
I tossed some money on the table and we left together. I trudged back to the boat with sadness fighting with rage to see who got to steer the ship.
There are four good reasons for getting into teaching, May, June, July and August. Those are the months you are off contract but still getting paid. In addition, I had arranged for a year’s sabbatical which meant that I didn’t have to be back at the salt mines until the fall of the following year.
And I knew where I was going to be, St Lucia in the Windward Islands. You’re right. It was her last wish as my wife. So YES, it was an homage to our marriage. What can I say? I’m sentimental.
I actually saw Janet once before I left. I have a big morning lecture, almost 300 students. I DO love an adoring throng. They were all sitting there listening to me and frantically taking notes, while the Teaching Assistants moved around amongst that seething mass like herding dogs.
I was in full stride when I looked up to the very top of the auditorium and almost swallowed my tongue. Janet was standing timorously by the door. She looked incredibly sad. It was the first time I had seen her in the flesh since I watched her board the train with Shithead. Her beauty was incandescent.
It took me totally out of my game. I felt like 40,000 volts passed through me. I stopped talking and just stood there at the lectern like an idiot. I didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of seeing how much the sight of her affected me. But my mouth was moving like a fish out of water. Nothing came out of it for a good two minutes.
The students were all looking confused. I almost thought that one of them was going to raise his hand and ask me if “gulping” was going to be on the test. I took a drink of water and a deep breath and continued. When I looked up again she covered her face with both of her hands, like she was crying. She turned toward the door and was gone.
I felt like I needed somebody to love and who would love me back unconditionally. So I did the only intelligent thing. I went down to the DC pound and got a dog.
The one I picked was perfect. He was what people call a “brown dog” meaning he had so many breeds in him that his chief characteristic was that he was brown. He was big and he looked like he might have some mastiff in the family tree. But he had a Labrador face and the long ears of some kind of hound. He had short hair, a very broad back and his tail was docked.
The rest of the dogs were barking at the front of the cage trying to get my attention. This guy had his back to me projecting total mortification and misery. It was like he was saying, “Don’t look at me boss. I’m too ashamed.”
My heart went out to the guy. He and I were a lot alike. I picked him up the next day after his bath and his veterinary check. The delay was mainly so that they could relieved him of his cojones. I was thinking with grim humor, “Janet did that to me. Now we are COMPLETELY alike.”
He had a wonderful temperament. Slow, gentle and loving but not in any pushy kind of small dog way. He just sat there in the passenger seat looking devotedly at me, pant-pant-pant-drool, “Thanks for getting me out of that place Boss. Anything you need from now on you can count on me.”
The people at the DC Pound had named him Buster after the dog on the Buster Brown shoebox. That one was actually a pitbull and his name was Tige. But I wasn’t inclined to debate the niceties of early 20th Century cartoon characters. So Buster it was!!
He spent a couple of days getting acclimated to the boat. We were going on a long trip and I wanted him to feel comfortable. We were already packed and fully provisioned so it was just a matter of casting off. A 40 can be a little tricky for one man to sail. But I had the diesels and once we got into the open water I could get the mainsail up from the cockpit with the power assists.
We made it down the Potomac under engine power and when we got out into the Bay I coasted around to Norfolk and the Intercostal under sail. May is good sailing weather and Buster and I made good time down the coast toward Miami and the open ocean beyond.
I was leaving a wounded man. But I was going to spend the next 16 months healing.