I do okay. I'm good at my job, have two great kids in college and a wife that is incredible. I don't mean she is a super model, but she is a great role model. If my girls turn out exactly like her, I will consider myself fortunate. She is my partner, my best friend, my financial advisor, my playmate, and the best lover a man could ever hope for. In short, Susan was too good for me, but I had decided long ago that I would just have to live with that fact.
Some buddies and I have developed a little habit over the years of stopping at a local pub on Wednesdays, after work. We don't all work at the same place so we meet to do some male bonding. That means we drink a few beers, shoot some pool, and solve all the world's problems, and bullshit more than a little. It may not sound like fun to a woman, but we look forward to it! Guys would understand.
The great thing about it is that Susan is fine with it. She doesn't really know why it has become something I look forward to so much, but she allows me the freedom to do it. Like I said, she is a great wife.
Because I get out half an hour earlier than the other guys, I usually get to the pub ahead of them. I am supposed to get the table near the pool table and get some wings ordered. It works pretty well for us.
I had just nicely picked up my draft beer when I noticed a blonde looking my way. I nodded to her and went over to the table I intended to claim. As I walked I tried to remember if I had seen her in the place before. I came to the conclusion that she had to be new because she was the type you would not forget. She was in her early thirties, slim, well dressed, and very attractive.
The place was pretty empty. The after work crowd was half an hour away. I decided to play a practice game so I would be warmed up and ready to win a few of my quarters back from the guys when we played later. I was just ready to break, when the blonde sauntered up to me, her hips swaying with every step, and started a conversion.
"Would you be interested in playing with me?" she asked.
"That sure sounds like fun!" I grinned. "Let me put this pool stick down."
I have always been quick-witted like that. I wondered if she would laugh or be indignant and leave. It really didn't matter much to me.
"That sounds like a great idea!" she whispered in a husky voice as she leaned over the table. "You look like a man that knows how to play really well."
What the hell was this? I know what I am, and what I look like. I am okay, but not the sort of guy a lovely woman 10 or 15 years my junior would chase. I was dressed in my work clothes, so she couldn't think I had money.
"I was just kidding," I stammered. "I'm a married man and really am not allowed to play, unless it's with the wife."
"Well, she isn't here, is she?" asked the blonde. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her, will it?"
I had alarms and whistles going off in my head. There was something in the old woodpile and I wasn't going to play the fool. My wife is a wonderful woman. That said, she would cut off my balls and stuff them down my throat if I ever messed around. You could say I was motivated by fear, but I like to think of it as good sense. I would never be drunk enough, or dumb enough, to fuck up a really great thing!
The smell of rat was everywhere. It caused me to think about the unusual situation I suddenly found myself in. What was she really after? Why me? How could I find out without her knowing I wasn't as stupid as she seemed to think I was? Then I was saved. My cell phone rang.
"Hey, Mitch? This is Don," said the voice on the other end. "I'm running about ten minutes late. Practice up so you won't lose all your money, Dude!" he laughed.
"I see. Okay," I answered.
I turned back to the pretty blonde and followed through with my newly hatched plan.
"That was my friend. His wife is in labor and he wants me to drive him to the hospital. Could I have your number, or give you my cell number?" I asked. "I think it would be quite nice to play a game or two with you."
She seemed to hesitate for just a second, than made her mind up.
"Give me your number," she insisted. "I'll be calling. Be sure of that. My name is Sandy."
As I wrote my cell number on a napkin, I gave her my best smile. I handed the napkin to her and she folded it and placed it in her bag.
"I'm Mitch," I told her as I grabbed my jacket and hurried for the door.
I got in my car and drove across the street to a convenience store. I parked so I could watch the bar I had just left. I knew I could well be wasting my time, but I had it to waste. It wasn't three minutes later I saw the blonde come out of the bar.
I knew she was out of place there and really doubted she would hang around. What I didn't know was that she had a tall man with a gray beard with her. They climbed into an SUV and pulled out of the lot. I followed just long enough to copy the car's plate number when they stopped for a light. Then I turned around. I was back at the bar before the guys arrived.
As we played pool, I told the guys my story. It was pretty good to have a little mystery to work on for a change. The fellows had a few good ideas. Don was a dispatcher for the state police.
"Give me the plate number and I'll see who the car belongs to, Mitch," he offered. "Any guy pussy-whipped enough to turn down a young, hot blonde needs all the help he can get."
That set the tone for the rest of the evening. I was the butt of all sorts of jokes about my fear of Susan and what she would do to me if she ever caught me messing around. I actually enjoyed the kidding because I knew every man there respected Susan and envied our relationship. Men talk a lot, but we are softies deep down and want a woman that keeps us in line. It allows us an excuse to not get involved in something stupid. It is like being a kid and having your folks watching you. It removes certain options that you really don't need.
The next day at work, I received a phone call from Don.
"Mitch, that car is registered to a Derek Baxter. He runs some kind of detective service. He is 56 and married. He lives in Westport, so he must be doing pretty well."
"Thanks, Don," I responded. "I have to wonder why he has an interest in me, though."
Don seemed to hesitate a little before he continued, "His specialty seems to be a thing he calls marriage fidelity checks. I asked a few of the troopers about him. They said he pretty much uses some hot looking women to snare married men into becoming adulterers. When his girls get done with a man, he has become an adulterer, even if he wasn't one before hand. They never actually have sex with the men, but they go far enough to prove, usually to the poor fucker's wife, that the guy will be unfaithful if he is given the opportunity. He always has still pictures and a video as proof for his client."
I was stunned. Did Susan hire someone to set me up? Why? It made no sense. If she wanted to toss my ass out; that's what she would do. Shit! She would probably do it if she even suspected I was unfaithful, and then toss my balls out the back door. It just didn't sound like Susan to waste time and money on some shit detective.
My silence didn't go unnoticed to Don. "The troopers tell me they have been called to domestic disputes a few times because of this asshole. I'd rather have my sister marry a goddamn pimp than this guy. Is there anything else I can find out for you, Buddy?"
"That blonde said her name was Sandy. Could you ask your contacts if they know anything about her, Don?" I asked.
"Sure thing, Mitch," agreed Don. "I should have the dirt on her in the next day or so."
I hung up and gave the situation some thought. Susan simply didn't play games or beat around the bush. She knew me well enough to know all she had to do was ask. I had no secrets from her. I decided the simplest thing was to talk to her.
"I had a blonde hit on me yesterday," I started as we sat down for dinner.
"Really?" laughed Susan. "It must be your charm and good looks!"
"She made it pretty clear that she wanted me to have sex with her," I pressed on. "She was around 30 and very attractive."
"Where the hell was this?" demanded Susan. She was no longer laughing.
"I was waiting for the guys to show up for our pool game. She hit on me within a few minutes of when I walked through the door," I added as I watched Susan for her reaction.
"Exactly what did she say and do? More importantly, what the hell did you do, Mitch?" Susan questioned.
I had my answer. Susan did not know anything about the girl. Her anger was not an act! I explained everything as it happened. Then I told Susan what Don had learned.
"That is low!" she exclaimed. "They actually try to get a guy to cheat by putting a bimbo in front of him and telling him he can have her? That is like leaving a cookie in front of a kid, then slapping him for eating it."
I was glad she saw things that way. Even faithful men can be tempted. No wife in her right mind should put that sort of temptation in front of a man she loved. As Susan and I discussed it, we decided it had to be more than a divorce ploy. It was a damn lousy one, at that.
"I've been trying to figure out who could want to ruin our marriage, Susan. I thought this didn't sound like your style," I conceded. "But these people don't do this shit just for giggles. Someone wants to break us up; or blackmail me. That would be disappointing for them since I have two kids in college."
.... There is more of this story ...