Chapter 9: The Two Lovers Find Their Way Back to Each Other

A hard rain had started as I drove back to my condo. People lose track of how far Long Island juts out into the Atlantic. And thanks to where we are located we get our share of violent storms. This was shaping up to be one to remember. In fact, even though we are a little south of their breeding grounds, tonight’s weather felt like it might turn into a true Nor’easter.

While the lightning flashed and the wipers slapped their busy tune I was thinking about what I had just overheard. I was feeling a bit guilty about eavesdropping on my wife. But Janet had added a new dimension to my understanding. And as far as I was concerned it was the final piece that I needed to start the reconciliation process.

I recognized and accepted that she was entirely responsible for what she had done. But I could understand the reason now. And I had to admit some complicity.

My passive contributions didn’t cause me any pangs of guilt. But they DID help me get my head around the cause of Janet’s straying. More importantly, because I finally understood the motivation for her behavior I was NOW more-or-less totally reassured that it would never happen again. That is, if I did the things that I needed to do.

The solution to the problem was simple and I was absolutely certain that it was the right one. Murphy had done a masterful job of yanking me out of Janet’s life, thereby removing her support system. The blame for that part of her seduction was strictly on him. But my failure to understand my wife’s growing need for romance and excitement was my fault entirely. And I was never going to make that mistake again.

I know that the sin of inattentiveness is a problem in most long-standing marriages; so much so that the thickheaded husband is a TV caricature. I will cop to that plea. But making the same mistake twice is not in my skill set. Based on what I had learned, it was painfully obvious that I had to stop living my marriage like a bad sitcom and start treating it with the importance and respect that it deserved. That is, if I wanted to keep my wife.

So, I was going to do whatever it took to add a lot more spice to Janet’s life.

I have no idea when I lost track of the fact that Janet was a gift, not my inalienable right. When I think back on it, our married relationship seemed to disappear into routine sometime in the murky past. And in some ways I had to thank Mr. Murphy for waking me up.

Murphy saw what I was NOT seeing. He was around our house enough to pick-up on the effect that my inattention had on Janet. Janet is always loving and faithful. But she was also a woman who was getting absolutely no interest or excitement from her husband. And Murphy had used her incipient boredom to do something that I had never thought would happen, fuck her outside the bounds of holy matrimony.

All women need the occasional moments of reinforcement to feel desirable. In fact, the partner’s appearance is a fundamental part of mating behavior in any species; think peacock. It was pure unadulterated self-satisfied stupidity that made me lose track of Janet’s outrageous sex appeal. I had gotten lazy. So instead of thinking about novel ways to sweep Janet off her feet, I was wallowing in my daily routine like a pig in mud.

In that respect, my arrogance and deeply entrenched complacency made her vulnerable to any approach that would let her feel important and desirable again. Knowing what I do now, I was not going to EVER stop expressing my gratitude that she had chosen me. So, my first step was going to be to get my head out of the cozy place where I had been keeping it. And then spend my spare time coming up with new and improved ways of letting Janet know each and every day how special she is.

And make no mistake, Janet is very special.

It is her warmth and humanity that differentiate her from other beautiful women. Her movie star face and her smoking hot body are guaranteed to set-off waves of yearning in every man. But, she has such a charismatic personality that you quickly lose sight of her extreme physical attractiveness. Underneath her gorgeous exterior she is kind, sweet, humble, gentle, and her intelligence and her wicked sense of humor are second to none.

In fact, I have never quite understood why she pledged herself to me in the first place. When we met it was obvious that she didn’t lack for male companionship. Even now, she will be hit on wherever we go, sometimes right in front of me. Guys can’t help themselves. It is sort of like that proverbial moth to the flame. Nonetheless, in every instance I have ever witnessed or heard of she has been steadfast in her loyalty to me. And I have tried to return everything she gives me with compound interest.

But I am always aware that there are men waiting in line behind me.

Actually, I had never been that angry at her for fucking Murphy. I could see how she had been maneuvered into giving it up to him. I saw that even before we first talked and agreed to separate. And after cleaning up the mess that Murphy had caused with the Feds I could see that he was a very clever and unscrupulous fellow indeed.

Her emotional affair was something that I WAS hurt by. But I could also understand how it happened now. And frankly any anger about that would be a double edged sword, since I would have to let myself in for part of the blame.

There were also mitigating circumstances to explain whatever steps she took out of bounds. Those made it particularly easy to forgive her.

First and foremost, if you have ever gotten the full treatment from my wife you will understand why the spur of the moment sex that she had with Murphy was trivial. If she was truly turned on by the man, she would never just hit-and-run as she did. And now, thanks to my eavesdropping, the emotional attachment she had formed with the guy, which was what had really enraged me, was understandable. As a result, I was ready to call her tomorrow and begin the reconciliation process.

Most importantly I had the key to rebuilding our relationship and I was NOT going to lose that. I knew that I had to pay closer attention to romancing my wife. I might have been excused for putting her in the second seat while I was building a career but that was behind me now. The business was thriving and I knew that I had hired good people, with one horrible exception. Cleaning up the fallout from Murphy’s exploit proved that. So those people could run the business now.

I didn’t think it would take long to put us back together since I was certain that we both unequivocally loved each other. The only condition for assuming our happy life would be to find a comfortable middle ground in our day-to-day existence where we could both feel fulfilled.

I was trying to decide whether weekends in Paris, or London would be more exiting for Janet when my phone rang. I was about to answer it when I saw that the inbound call was to Janet, not me.

When I had Bluebugged Lance at the restaurant, I had dropped a little piece of malware on his phone. It was a simple application that did one thing. It alerted me when he called Janet’s number. It also let me listen in to what was being said; like it was an old-fashioned party line.

It was strictly man-in-the-middle stuff. I could listen but I was muted on my end. Nothing would be more disruptive to my goal of surreptitious listening then to have the two parties hear something unexpectedly foreign in the background. And the way the wind was rocking the vehicle, it was getting very noisy inside my car.

I was interested in what Lance would have to say to Janet. I was even more interested in what she had to say to him. I had KNOWN that Lance was going to make a move. Every OTHER guy in the room can tell when a man makes the decision to move in on a woman. It’s part of our DNA. We just know it.

I eased the phone up to my ear with my heart hammering in my chest. This was something that I didn’t want to deal with right now. But it was what it was. I didn’t miss the irony that I was making my final plans for reconciliation just as some other man was taking the steps to try to tear us apart.

I pulled over to the side of the road and killed the wipers. All I could hear around me was the pounding of the rain and the occasional roll of thunder.

I heard Janet say, “Lance, why are you calling me at this hour?!” He responded with some lame story about how she had to help him with some paperwork.

She asked him, “Why now?” He responded that he had only just thought about it when the group went out today. I was certain that he had thought of SOMETHING then, and Rebecca’s fucking him afterward just seemed to have whetted his appetite for the main course.

Lance was determined though. He invoked the formal mentor relationship that the Board of Education had saddled Janet with. And she eventually gave in. I don’t suppose she had any choice at that point. Both of us knew that Lance was enough of a weasel to whine to the Board if she hadn’t. Janet’s voice had the unmistakable sound of irritation as she said, “I want to go to sleep no later than 10:30 so you had better get your ass over here.” And she slammed the phone down.

I did a U-turn and headed back the way I had come. My condo is about as far from the restaurant in one direction as our house is in the other. So it would take a little while to get there. Nevertheless, I was unquestionably going to break this up. I had no idea what Lance planned but unlike Janet I had recorded proof of what he was capable of. And I did not have a good feeling about what was going to happen.

The storm was reaching a crescendo outside the car. Getting around wasn’t going to be the issue. It was the falling tree limbs and flying debris that were the concern. I drive a Range Rover HSE. That vehicle would be just as comfortable riding along in total luxury, in the trackless wilderness of Greenland. So, given what was happening outside it was $90,000 well spent.

Normally it takes me about 20 minutes to go door-to-door. But, I was moving along at about ten miles an hour as various things flew past me. I took the tablet out of my pocket as I crept along, and activated my connection to the RAT on Lance’s phone. That gave me audio but in the storm even 4G wasn’t enough bandwidth for video.

As I pinged and acquired the phone I heard muffled voices. I turned both of our volumes up to max. Just then a flying tree limb caused me to take a detour through a ditch, which was already full of water. Any car but the Rover would have stalled out at that point. But I just drove majestically through the ditch and up the other side, leaving a wake like the Queen Mary.

I finally got the volume adjusted and I heard Janet droning on in a bored tone of voice about some bureaucratic form that they were filling out. I could hear the clink of plates and glasses like they were eating and drinking. I heard Janet say, “The cannelloni are delicious Lance, where did you get them?”

He said, “It’s my special recipe.” I smelled a 200-pound rat so I immediately hit the record function on the tablet. From now on Lance was on the record.

They continued along with the paperwork. Janet was clearly leading the shithead through something he was supposed to know as part of his job. And frankly from the conversation I was pretty certain that the paperwork would really not have been a problem. He was just using it as a ploy to get at Janet.

Suddenly I heard Janet say in a strained voice, “I think you had better leave right now Lance. I don’t feel well at all.” And there was the sound of some desperate moving of chairs and things being knocked over. The phone in Lance’s pocket was clearly being jostled by contact with another body. Then I heard her desperate voice say, “Call 911.”

At that point, I didn’t care about flying tree limbs and downed power wires. Come hell or high water I had to get there as fast as I could. As I floored it, I heard Janet starting to moan in a sexual way and then Lance’s cheerful voice tell her that she had just eaten his own personal concoction of Rohypnol and Ecstasy, which he had embedded in the cannelloni filling. I knew that my wife was in big-time trouble.

His phone picked up the sound of footsteps and then a body being tossed on our bed. In the meantime, Janet was making sounds like a cat in-heat. I knew that it was the Ecstasy that had her so fired up. Lance was jauntily saying, “You won’t remember anything in the morning. But I can guarantee that you will totally love what’s going to happen to you TONIGHT.”

The shrieks and loud cries of female passion that followed were killing me.

I heard Lance say. “That’s it baby play with yourself. Put your fingers in that hole and churn them around. I love to watch a woman getting herself off. Look how wet everything is; how drenched your thighs and pussy are with your own juices.” In the meantime, Janet was just screaming in wild abandon.

I had finally gotten to our house. As I roared up to the front, I was listening to the sound of Janet yelling, “Stop playing with me and fuck me! I have to have your cock in me NOW!” That was followed by the loudest groan so far and a shrieked “AHHH, OH YESSSS, OH GOD!!” followed by the sound of wild thrashing.

I was fumbling in my console for the Asp Talon. I keep several them stashed in various places including my Rover. It could easily pass for a flashlight. But in my humble opinion the Asp ought to be the weapon of choice for all out of shape business executives.

The problem with a gun is that you’ve got to be willing to shoot somebody. And the authorities tend to frown on people making holes in other people, no matter how justified that outcome might be.

I am 50 years old and I have never been particularly over-endowed in the muscles department. I am definitely NOT a black belt in anything. The only belt I have holds my pants up. I have nowhere near the balls to actually get in a hand-to-hand fight with a knife. And I am way too uncoordinated to use fancy ninja gear like throwing stars, or nunchucks.

But I CAN swing a club. That is where the Asp fighting baton comes in.

Fully deployed it is 26 inches of lightweight steel. It comes in an easy to conceal eight-inch package. So you can carry it in a suit pocket and instantly deploy it with the flick of a wrist. And with the accelerator cap accessory I can get the tip up to supersonic speeds. When I do, an Asp strike is temporarily more devastating than actually being shot. Better yet, done right it leaves no holes.

I am so capable with the thing, that I fear nobody. I bought my first one ten years ago, as a means of self-protection. And I practiced using it in the basement aiming at balls suspended on wire from the ceiling. First it was baseballs. Then ping pong balls and by the end I was picking swinging marbles out of the air. I got so obsessed with perfecting my accuracy and technique that Janet told me to practice somewhere else, because the crack of the tip breaking the sound barrier was annoying her. Nonetheless, all that drill has made me quite an artiste.

I really didn’t have a plan. The Asp was going to lay out the guy, no question. But I had to get some situational awareness to decide how seriously I wanted to fuck him up. I had to literally fight the wind all the way to the front porch and I was soaked when I got there. But my wife was being violated in that house and her pain completely obliterated any effects of the storm.

Janet was groaning loudly and humidly as I neared the bedroom. She was making explicit suggestions about how long and hard shithead had to pound her. And she was also singing the praises of his big cock. She was being so vocal about the thing that she would have been the first victim of my wrath, if I didn’t know the effect that Ecstasy has on most women; particularly a passionate woman like Janet. And I knew that she wouldn’t remember anything about tonight when she woke up.

As I rushed into the bedroom I saw that he had her flat on her back. Her powerful dancer’s legs were straight up in the air and then she wrapped around his waist with her ankles locked. I could see his cock doing a disappearing and reappearing act into her hole and it instantly hit me what I wanted to do.

The smell of aroused woman would have normally distracted me, if I wasn’t in such a focused blood red haze of anger. I strode up behind the wildly fucking couple and the second I got in range I whipped an Asp strike onto the three centimeter spot between his frantically pumping buttocks and his balls. That place was nicely exposed as he withdrew before plunging back into Janet’s clearly famished hole. My strike landed perfectly. It was a mere tap by Asp standards. But there are a lot of nerves in that very sensitive area of the body. So he must have felt like he had been kicked in the nuts by Francis the Talking Mule, while being simultaneously butt-fucked by John Holmes.

The pain had to be unspeakable. Best of all; when the authorities got him to the hospital there would be no evidence of what had happened. Hence, no embarrassing questions from the Police.

He shrieked in agony. All is muscles contracted and he spasmed straight up in the air like a marlin about to be boated. Then he slammed down on his back on the floor. At that point he came like old faithful. Ropes of spunk shot up in the air, returning to land all over his chest and face.

I had the feeling that I had blown up his prostate, since it is located at ground zero on the inside of where the strike hit. I was actually savoring the thought that that would make it a little problematic for his future sex life. Then Lance lost all control of his bowels. I was trying hard not to think about what THAT was going to do to our rug.

He was out cold. I couldn’t imagine how much pain he must be in. It was probably just as well he was out. I hated the fucker but I didn’t want complications. His being unconscious took him out of the picture while I called 911. I ordered two busses at our address. They said that the storm might cause a delay but that they would be there within a half hour.

Janet in the meantime was screaming like a crazy woman as her heels beat out a cadence on the bed, “Where did you go? Come back and fuck me. I have to have you inside me. You have to get me THERE!!!” Her eyes were sightless, rolled totally up in her head. She had two handfuls of covers and was pulling on them for all she was worth. Her legs were spread-eagled as she humped the air and her pussy was cherry red. I gathered her up in my arms. She fought me like a wildcat, trying to get me to finish her. I just held her tightly to my chest, her arms pinned against her sides while she moaned wildly and thrashed. To say that I was in pain, as I held my wildly struggling wife, would be a vast understatement. I have cried exactly twice in my life, both times when each of my parents died. But I was absolutely sobbing with relief and fury as I held her.