It was an upscale bar, guess I should really call it a Cocktail Lounge. But it was a friendly place. When I got into a casual conversation in the john with a guy who came in with some fellow workers he invited me over to join their group. Nice bunch, too, four guys and a couple gals just leaving the office on Friday afternoon. From what they said this was a regular routine of theirs for Friday after work. The gals and three of the guys were married; the guy who invited me over was divorced. From what he said, I gathered he'd be staying a while longer than his fellow employees.

They gave me a warm welcome, and we had a great time until the marrieds got up to go, leaving me and Phil behind. I told him I was in town on business, and wouldn't be going home until tomorrow afternoon. That's what I told him, and in a way it was true.

I had needed to get away after Monday nights 'event' and was quietly celebrating. My wife had taken the kids yesterday morning, and taken a long overdue trip to see her parents. The kids had been ecstatic, even if they wondered why I wasn't coming with them this time. They would be back home Monday.

After what had happened some would find it strange that Alice and I weren't spending the weekend cuddled together. We had spent all day Tuesday snuggled and sniffling. Then the rest of the week we just kind of hung all over each other. Except for my meetings with the other members of the support-group-to-be and figured we needed a day or two apart to just think and get ourselves together.

Yeah, I was doing some of the sniffling, too. And if you think that makes me less than a man, go to hell. And I'll be glad to make something of it, too.

Me, I decided I had to celebrate in a quiet way and figured the only safe way was to get away from the small city I lived in and into someplace big where I could work off steam. Don't get me wrong, no women for this Daddy, but I did have to blow off some steam. Just get a new perspective, as they say.

Phil told me he wasn't planning on heading to his apartment until after dinner and asked me to join him. It sounded like a good deal.

We ate in the restaurant connected to the lounge we were in, and a nice one it was, too. Then he showed me to a fine little jazz club where we had a few more, and I guess I got too mellow. No harm done, he didn't know me, and had no idea where I was from.

"Hey, Phil! I am celebrating tonight," I told him. "If you'll listen to my story, I'll pick up the tab for the club." Jeez! Sometimes I wish I could keep my mouth shut! That little bit cost me a couple hundred. Next time I'll look and see what they're charging for drinks and cover before I open my mouth.

He gave me a quizzical look, and nodded his OK. "Is this a single malt story, or Four Roses?" he asked.

"Well, order the scotch if that's what you want to drink," I told him. "It's a pretty good story, and it's just winding down. But it looks like a happy ending. You be the judge, OK?" With that I swung into my story.

It started a few weeks ago, on a Tuesday. It suddenly dawned on me that morning that Alice was really down. She was moving stiffly and acted like she was pretty sore. I asked her what was wrong. She told me she must have slept funny, she'd be all right as the day went on.

I went on to work, not thinking anything more of it until I called her at lunch to find out how she was doing. She answered the phone kind of angry, something like, 'What do you want NOW!' Stopped me for a moment, and when I said hello, she gave a gasp of surprise and stumbled all over herself apologizing. She passed it off as thinking I was a telemarketer. She told me she was fine, and loved me. She was a lot more lovey-dovey than usual.

After I hung up the phone, I started thinking. Monday was her night out with the girls, they got together for cards and didn't get home until late. They were real cutthroat players; several were into Tournament Bridge and the games meant a lot to them. She had been out until almost two that morning, much later than usual even for her Bridge night. Just a little more thought and I remembered the same thing had happened the week before.

What I suddenly realized was she hadn't bent my ear that morning about the game the night before. I usually listened with one ear, the same one she used when I talked about my golf game. I was interested because I was interested in her, but she hadn't mentioned one thing about it this morning. Very unusual!

And last Tuesday she had gotten up grouchy and moving like she was sore then, too. I passed it off as coincidence, and got back to work.

That night I waited for her to tell me about the tricks she had finessed, the foolish bids her partner had made, who she had partnered with and so on. She never said a word. I asked her how the game had gone, and she just told me it was pretty good, like usual.

This wasn't usual.

On the way home that Wednesday I stopped for some groceries Alice had asked me to pick up. At the market I ran into Fay, a casual acquaintance to me but one of Alice's favorite partners on Mondays. I was going in as she was leaving and we hardly slowed down as we passed one another. She told me hi and to tell Alice she had missed her Monday, and hoped she could make it next week. I had taken a couple steps into the store before what she said registered, and when I turned around she was already in her car. That set me to thinking.

Something was going on, and it didn't sound good. We had been married for a dozen years, and I had never doubted her in all that time. Suddenly I was seriously worried for my marriage and family. This wasn't like Alice at all.

My sudden doubts made me feel like a heel, too. All I had were a couple of coincidences and a casual comment. Maybe Fay had been the one missing Monday. Nevertheless I figured I'd better look into this. If I didn't it would be bugging me and I would find myself looking jealously and doubting my best friend. I'd never been jealous before, and it would put a sour smell around our relationship.

At the same time, I couldn't bring myself to tell my love that I doubted her. It was too preposterous to be true and she would either get mad or think it hilariously funny, or both. And I sure didn't want to give her ideas.

Now that was exactly the kind of thing I'd start thinking if I didn't get this cleared up!

Now I'm not a very impressive physical specimen, and I wondered how I would handle myself if I found out my Alice was having an affair. Sure wouldn't make sense for me to rise to my full 5' 7" and 180 lbs. Balding head and all, it would make me giggle and I was the one doing the rising!

So that might take some thought too.

If anything was happening it was going down Monday nights while I was watching the kids, and she was supposed to be at bridge. That weekend I did a lot of scheming and planning. By Monday morning I figured I had covered every contingency.

That Monday I called Alice and told her I had a lot of work I had to do. She said she would call our regular babysitter to come over so I could be undisturbed. The sitter was to come over just before Alice left which allowed me to 'suddenly remember' I had to get something from the office and the kids would still be taken care of.

I left about forty-five minutes before Alice would normally leave. I just drove down to the mall where I'd parked a rental from Rent-A-Wreck. She had to pass the mall on the way out of our little community so I just waited until Alice drove by in her Volvo station wagon. When I saw her go by, I fell in a safe distance behind her. Almost immediately I knew she wasn't going to play bridge. They were scheduled to play tonight just half a mile down the street from the mall. Instead she drove out of our little development, and I followed her to a small house in a questionable neighborhood a little over seven miles away.

She parked in the driveway, and after dithering in her car she got out and walked to a side door I could see from where I was watching. She stopped on the porch and buried her face in her hands for a moment, then she straightened her shoulders, opened the door and walked in. From where I was sitting I could see the window. I watched my wife's shadow, as she seemed to be stripping out of her clothes in front of the shaded window with a light behind her. When she turned out the light I figured she was leaving for either the living room, or the bedroom. It didn't make much difference. An attractive naked woman is a utilitarian ornament any place she goes.

Emotions I didn't know I had slammed me hard. For a moment I was sure I was going to throw up my dinner, but I managed to hold it in. I had already switched off the overhead light in the car so when I opened the door nothing called attention to me. Making sure I was carrying the little bottle of 'muscle relaxant' I'd managed to cumshaw I made my way to the side door. It was still unlocked, and opened into a utility room off the kitchen.

The dark clothes I was wearing pretty much hid me in the night, and my soft-soled shoes made no sound as I stepped onto the porch and eased the door open. Stepping inside I heard a deep male voice, "Hey bitch, where the hell is my Dago?" I heard the meaty thunk of a hand or fist on flesh. "Now get the fuck back to the kitchen and get it!" I saw a bottle of red wine was on the counter, already opened.

I jumped over to it, unstoppering the muscle relaxant as I went and poured some in. I hoped it was enough, didn't really care if it was too much; not then anyway. Whipping silently back into the utility room I waited with the door into the kitchen almost shut. I didn't need to hurry, it turned out. I was safely in the pantry when I heard my wife whimper then again cry out with pain. After a thump that sounded like someone falling on the floor I heard her sniffling as she shuffled to the kitchen.

"Bitch, clean your face off. I don't like sniveling cunts. Be looking good when you get back here! You're not dealing with that wuss husband you live with now," came the male voice.

My naked Alice walked into the kitchen, snapping on the light. She was rubbing her breast where a large red splotch stood out. It looked like someone had hit her there. Picking up the wine she looked at the cabinets for a moment. She first opened one, then closed it, then opened a second one and pulled out two glasses. As she left the kitchen she turned out the light.

Well that was moderately good news. She hadn't been here often enough to know where things were kept in the kitchen. I knew my Alice. If she had been here regularly she would have been very familiar with the kitchen layout. It was something she seemed to study whenever she visited a strange house.

And I knew she wasn't into pain.

I would bet good money she wasn't here voluntarily. And everyone knows I never bet on less than a sure thing.

Now I had to wait for the relaxant to work. And that was going to be hard, just sitting here waiting. Let me explain about the muscle relaxant. In some medical procedures, the medicos need a patient totally relaxed, and they have a couple of drugs that do that. Doesn't mean one can't use one's muscles, but those muscles would be as weak as a kitten.

Don't ask me how I got my hands on it. I won't tell you.

It was hell sitting there. I could hear the SOB berating Alice, and a few smacks. The guy was into pain; into giving it and not taking I was sure. What was hardest to listen to were the muffled little sounds of him doing things to Alice, and him ordering her to do things to him.

Finally I got up and headed out of the kitchen in the direction of the 'voice'. The wait had not helped mellow my mood. When I got to the end of the hall and a half open door I could hear Alice whimpering and whispering. I just silently cursed him as I slipped on the gloves I'd taken along, just in case.

"Please, please let me go. I've never done anything to you, please. I have a family, don't do this. Jesus, I'm going crazy with this..."

There was another slap, and the 'voice', "Shut the fuck up, cunt. Now you are on your knees for a very good reason. I want a better suck job than you gave me last week. And if you don't drink it all down, I'm going to ram it up your ass again; this time without lubrication. No reason for me to be a nice guy if you don't do your part, whore-slut. Now start sucking."

I peeked in the room and there was my wife on her knees in front of this huge monster of a man. Hell he must have weighed three hundred pounds. Ugly as sin, with a badly pock marked and scarred face. He had his pants and skivvies down around his ankles, and he was pouring more wine into the glass in his hand. The bottle was now about half empty. The second glass was still on the bedside table and it looked clean from where I was standing. My surmise was that Alice hadn't been offered any wine. Man-Mountain had sucked half a bottle down in thirty minutes.

As I watched, my wife opened her mouth and sucked the guys cock into her mouth. She had a problem reaching it where it lay under his big belly. He put one hand behind her head and lunged his hips up into her mouth. I could hear her retching as it hit the back of her throat. The big gorilla laughed.

The guy I got the relaxant from told me the stuff was usually given intravenously, and took less than sixty seconds to work that way. But it could be given orally. It would take twenty minutes to take effect if it was administered orally. Faster if any alcohol had been taken. It had been a little over half an hour since Alice carried the wine in. It figured he had been drinking pretty steadily ever since. It was damned sure he had drunk enough for it to be effective. For maybe two seconds I worried he might have had an over dose. Then I shrugged my shoulders. As things stood, I might have trouble not trying to kill him with my bare hands.

I hoped I was right about it taking effect, because I couldn't take any more of this shithead abusing my wife. I pushed open the door and stepped into the room. The bastard's eyes got big, and he pushed himself to his feet. The first effect was bad for Alice, as in standing up he drove his cock down her throat. He let go of her head and she fell to her side coughing and retching.

The bastard had to be six foot five if he was an inch. He roared real loud and stepped forward to smash me. Unfortunately for him he forgot his pants were around his ankles. He pitched forward, landing on his nose. It was gratifying to see he didn't catch himself with his arms as he fell; they seemed to collapse under his weight as he landed.

I looked down at him and sneered, "Get up, shithead! Mommy's fat little boy afraid to stand up to a man?" The guy's eyes got even bigger as the blood poured out of his nose. I guess he was surprised at my attitude, just because he was a foot taller and one hundred fifty pounds heavier than I was. Hell, maybe more. He was huge!

He started to struggle to his feet, and I told him if he wanted to take his pants off he should just go ahead and do it. I'd let him. If he didn't want to, I'd take them off for him. He tried to yank them up, but they were so tangled they wouldn't come so he did just what I said. I mean, he pushed and prodded at them until they were off his feet, taking his shoes with them. It seemed like real work for him, so the relaxant must have been working.

As he got to his feet, I stepped in close to him and jumped on his toes. I landed on the edge of my heel. He screamed. Damn it that HAD to hurt. Then I put all my meager weight behind my shoulder as I tried to lift him off the ground with my fist. I actually raised him up on his toes. What did the job though was the muscle relaxant. His abdominal muscles had been relaxed also, my fist just sank into his gut. Seemed to me that my arm was more than wrist deep into his belly.