His name was Jack.
It might as well have been Joe, for he knew he was average. He also knew that this gave him two options in life. One was to regret he was average. That he was not the proverbial tall, dark and handsome stud, turning female heads wherever he went. The other option was to be thankful that he wasn't fat, short, bald and ugly.
He was Jack Mumsford, a mildly attractive man of 36 with a full head of dirty blonde hair. He had calm gray eyes, a stature of almost six feet and a trim body. He kept in shape by running a lot. He also refused to eat fatty foods or drink six-packs of beer while watching TV.
For a job, Jack Mumsford was a bean-counter.
He was good at that. He also hardly ever said no to a task given. Because of that Jack was averagely successful. He made averagely good money, so he could live in an averagely decent neighborhood.
But Jack lived in a well-to-do neighborhood.
He lived in a huge home built with tasteful and expensive architecture in an affluent neighborhood. It had a magnificent garden, a swimming pool and two BMW's. That was mostly because Jack had Suzanna Lyndon. She was his very successful wife. She owned a travel agency with branches throughout the state, and beyond.
Jack loved Suzanna. He loved her just as much now as he did ten years ago, when they first met at her travel agency. (It was quite a bit smaller back then. And not hers yet.)
Jack was also sure that Suzanna loved him as much now as she did when they married, eight years ago.
Suzanna was his love.
He usually called her Sue. Most people did. She was 33 and looked as successful as she was. She stood only two inches shy of Jack's six feet and wore her blonde hair up to emphasize her height. She had a good body, which she most often kept concealed in stern business suits. But she couldn't hide her glorious legs, even when she refused to let her knees escape the hem of her skirts. She also always wore heels. Let's say that she loved 'striving upwards.'
Suzanna was a decent, modest, hardworking professional. And that is exactly how she wanted the world to see her.
There were days - or more precisely nights — when Jack would have wished Sue looked less decent. Maybe she could look a bit more like the women in his fantasies. But Sue called those women sluts, on the rare occasions they met one.
Thank God, Sue was a good bit less decent in bed. Though they never did experiment a lot, she was quite passionate. She had no trouble achieving orgasms. And she usually got Jack off in the most satisfying ways.
Jack and Sue had no children.
I would love to have said, no children yet, but that would be cruel. Suzanna couldn't conceive. A few rather upsetting test results in their fourth year of marriage had closed that future for them.
They'd had a bad time for a while.
There had been crying. There even had been accusations. But they came out of the crisis stronger. At least that's what they loved to tell each other and their friends. Out of loyalty, Jack had even offered to have his tubes cut. Sue had said he shouldn't be ridiculous. Which Jack didn't feel he was at the time.
But anyway, that was all in the past now.
Ever since that sad time Sue had dedicated herself to the art of climbing. So had Jack, though with less adventurous strides. They had become a hard working, socially active couple. Especially Sue. She believed strongly in building an ever-growing network of friends and acquaintances. Their lovely house, garden and pool were hardly a weekend without guests. Except when Sue was away for business, of course.
Lately, business seemed to take her away more often. In fact she was gone at least one weekend out of every month. Sometimes more. On weekdays she often visited her growing branches as they multiplied throughout the state. And beyond.
She never invited Jack to accompany her.
Not that he hadn't asked her to. He had dropped hints, for sure. Especially when she started going away during weekends. When she didn't seem to pick up on them, he dropped his efforts. It hurt, yes. But he had his pride, he told himself. He wouldn't embarrass her or himself by begging. He started taking up golf and went fishing with colleagues. But he only discovered that he hated both activities. And some of his colleagues.
Lying in his bed on Friday and Saturday nights, he didn't like it one bit being there alone.
He asked himself if people who loved each other so much should be apart so often. And why. He asked himself if Sue would feel as alone as he did. He also asked himself how mere job-satisfaction could beat being in the arms of the one you love.
When in the end sleep refused to come, he went to his den. He poured a brandy and asked himself if he was a fool.
Jack did that many weekends.
Then he realized he was indeed a fool. So he confronted Sue. She shrugged and told him she didn't like it any more than he did. She also let her well-manicured hand flutter around her. She asked him if he thought this house in this neighborhood could be financed by love alone.
He watched her carefully. Maybe he hadn't looked into those eyes close enough lately. But he knew they had changed. They were as calm, clear and blue as ever, but colder. There was a steely sparkle in them. They had definitely changed. And so had the lines at the corners of her immaculately painted lips.
He dropped the subject. She didn't seem to mind. That night they skipped lovemaking. It was the first time they did that on the nights Sue returned from being away.
She told him she had a headache.
The bar was filling up nicely.
Jack nursed his scotch. He looked around. Sitting in hotel bars, watching people was a nice pastime, he thought. Have a good meal as a foundation. Then a slow sip for an hour. Carry on some light conversation with other guests. Who knows where it might take you.
Jack didn't have a job that took him out of town often. To be sure, it had been over a year, not considering the occasional seminar. But those had mostly been in his hometown.
This trip didn't amount to much, time wise. He'd had to visit a client three towns over. He could have dealt with it on the phone. He also might as well have driven back after the meeting. But lying on top of Sue's vanity he had found a little matchbook that told him he might as well book into a certain hotel for the night.
Ah, and yes, Sue was out of town, this weekend. So what was the point in going home?
The man next to him had an opinion on baseball that wasn't his. He knew they'd never agree, but the disagreement was pleasant enough. He even got in so deep, that he didn't see the woman enter.
He must have been the only one to miss her coming in. She certainly wasn't the type to walk into a bar unnoticed. The man he talked to looked over his shoulder with widening eyes. That was when he first noticed something was going on at all. He turned on his stool and saw her through a throng of beer drinkers.
Stunning is a word.
So are sexy, hot and outrageous. The woman was all of that. She walked in a halo of red curls that danced on her bare shoulders. It was an erotic little dance they shared with her tits. They bounced with every step, not hampered by a bra and hardly by the flimsy dress she wore.
The dress was a shining green satin-silk. It highlighted the curves of her body, before spectacularly ending halfway down her thighs. Thighs that belonged to legs that seemed to go on forever. Until they ended in stiletto heels bound to her feet with just narrow straps and laces.
"A whoring slut," Sue would have said. He guessed she was right in this case. Deliciously right.
The woman winked at the barman.
Then she went over to a couple of young men. She kissed them long and easy on their mouths. Her laugh was deep and throaty. She soon had a glass of champagne in her hand and a male hand up her dress.
"Isn't she something?" the man next to Jack hissed.
Jack had to agree.
"Is she a hooker?" he asked.
"Guess not," the man said. "Seems she is just another hotel guest. I hear she is a regular, though. I saw her here before."
The woman by now had two sets of hands all over her body. Jack had the impression a lot happened below bar level, but she didn't seem to protest.
He felt his cock swell. It shrunk his pants.
Damn, she was sexy as hell. He envied the guys feeling her up. Or should he call it plain jealousy? It made him a pimple-faced teenager again. He remembered ogling the prettier girls in high school, knowing they would never notice him.
They never did.
To be sure, there had not been a truly sexy girl in his life until Suzanna. And he'd never understood why she had been even interested. Oh yes, he had grown up in the meantime. He didn't even look bad anymore. He remembered the last school reunion. With quite some satisfaction he had watched the bald heads and potbellies of the once awesome jocks.
It had made him smile. But the insecurity had never left him. It was like wearing this mystic cap. The one that renders you invisible. He owned it. And nobody seemed eager to steal or buy it from him.
But Suzanna had looked right through it.
She'd struck him dumb when she started talking to him that time at the travel agency. It had felt agonizingly awkward, just like it always did. He just could not believe what happened. Not even that it happened.
Not to him, surely.
.... There is more of this story ...