I whistled as I strolled down the block. I even smiled at everyone I met. I had gone into work for a few hours on an emergency call, but now I was headed to Ralph and Betty Lang's place for a spring cookout. It was only a few blocks from our home, thus the decision to walk. It was early April but felt more like June. The sun warmed my face, even as it coaxed the flowers from their winter's rest. Life was good.

Kids had worn a path through a vacant lot behind Lang's house. It had become a much-used shortcut to the park a few blocks away. I decided to follow that path rather than walk all the way around the block to the front door. The trail led along the fence that Ralph had erected a few years ago to prevent his front yard from becoming the path most taken. As I idled along the trail, my mind was imagining that first cold beer, along with a juicy burger, a big sliced onion and a big dose of ketchup. I was already licking my chops.

Then I heard something that made me freeze in my tracks. I looked at Lang's house and realized I was just a few feet from their guest bedroom. The window was too high to see much other than the ceiling of the room through a small opening in the drapes. The window was open, however, and the curtains did nothing to impede sound.

"Show me those tits, Grace!" urged a male voice. "You act so prissy all the time, but I know what a hot bitch you really are. I'm going to suck on those tits. Then I'll keep your bra for a souvenir, you hot little slut! Then we'll go back to the party for a while. You don't want everyone to know what a tramp you really are, do you? Later on, I'm going to have you blow me. You like the idea of going braless in front of everyone, and then sneaking back here to suck my cock, don't you?"

I was listening intently for any response to what sounded to me, like a rhetorical question. My wife was the only woman I knew named Grace, and I sure didn't like the conversation to this point!

"Mmmmmmm," was the next sound I heard. I wasn't an eavesdropping expert with the FBI or anything, but it sure sounded like a female moan, and not a moan of pain. Then the male voice spoke again.

"You love it when I suck on those nipples don't you, slut?" he chuckled. "We'd better get back to the party and mingle. You'll have to blow me later."

I was still frozen in place when I heard the door in the bedroom open and close. I suddenly realized I was sweating profusely, and barely breathing. I leaned on the fence and began taking deep breaths, trying to calm my heart and my stomach. I must have remained there for another five minutes. Then I dejectedly turned and started back home.

I had to think. I knew the male voice belonged to Jack Robbins. He and his wife, Marcie, had moved into the area the previous fall. He was a big guy; probably a couple inches over six feet and he tipped the scales well over the Mendoza line. Marcie was a mousy little blonde woman, thin and quiet. Jack liked the sound of his voice and did most of the talking for both of them.

As I walked, my anger began to mount. I had never cheated on Grace. I had always given her everything she wanted. If anything, I was too damn good to her! I always yielded to her wishes and desires. We'd visit her relatives on holidays and go to all the weddings in her family. If I suggested we do something with my family, she'd have a dozen reasons why we shouldn't. I gradually stopped trying. The few times we attended a function that involved my family; I'd hear for weeks what assholes my relatives were. It wasn't worth the misery.

Grace was a manager at a local department store. I never suggested it wasn't a good job, but she was quite defensive about it, at least to me. I knew she thought that I thought it was a cushy job with no real future. Actually, I did think that, but how did she know? I never voiced my feelings about her work, to her, or to anyone else.

I owned and operated a flooring business. We specialized in tile floors, but installed laminates, hard and soft wood flooring, as well as linoleum for those that insisted. I had six men working for me and I was considering hiring another, if the right guy came along. My business was successful by any standard and I was proud of it. Grace seemed less impressed, although she enjoyed the things my hard work and success could provide for her.

We had been married 23 years and she was still an attractive woman. In many ways, she was more appealing now than when I married her at 19. She was no longer thin and willowy, but she wasn't fat by a long shot. Voluptuous would be the easiest way to describe Grace now. Her tits had increased in size over the years, and after having two kids, but her ass had rounded out as well and all in all, the total package worked very nicely. I had to admit that.

Now she was showing some jackass her tits and was going to blow him later? Shit! I was getting pissed. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered me so much if I had been getting all I wanted. That was so far from the truth it hurt. When we were first married, she couldn't get enough of my cock. It wasn't all that unusual for me to wake up in the night to find her riding the little guy. I even got an occasional blowjob back then, although they were never that frequent.

Now whenever I try to get close to her, she'd act like little Bill was a venomous snake. It certainly wasn't encouraged to find it's way above her waist, and far too seldom was it accepted below the Mason/Dixon Line.

Why the hell was I crawling back home with my tail between my legs? I was the one that was wronged! It occurred to me that Grace knew I would never challenge her actions or make a scene. She probably thought I'd be too dumb to notice anything, or too cowardly to do anything about it. Then there was that bastard, Jack. He seemed to have no respect for me at all. Grace probably told him I was a goddamn wimp! I turned around again and headed briskly back the way I had come.

I walked through the house and opened the slider to the back yard. The Langs owned an insurance company and did very well. They had a large yard and an in-ground pool. It was still too cool for swimming, but Ralph had the pool uncovered and it looked inviting on such a warm spring afternoon. I knew the water couldn't be much more than 50 degrees, if that.

There were probably a dozen people sitting around enjoying cold drinks and barbequed delights. I scanned the crowd for Grace. It took a minute but I found her. She was sitting on the arm of a chair, with that prick, Jack, sitting in the chair. His hand rested on her back, just above her ass.

Grace was laughing and waving her left arm to punctuate her words as she spoke to some friends seated near by. I could see her tits move unfettered under the shirt she was wearing. Grace was braless! That knowledge renewed and invigorated by wrath!

A couple of partiers spoke to me as I stalked past them, but I paid them no attention. I was focused on Grace's tits bouncing under her shirt. As I neared her, Grace finally noticed my approach and turned her face to look at me. What she saw caused her smile to immediately evaporate. Jack looked up and quickly removed his hand from Grace's backside.

I grabbed the arm of the chair and heaved it up and over. It really wasn't too difficult with Grace sitting on the other arm. As mad as I was at that moment, I could have flipped a refrigerator! Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that.

Grace and Jack both let out yelps as they became air born. Grace's drink dropped from her hand as she went flying backward. Jack took a higher trajectory and actually seemed to soar over Grace's head as she whirled her arms in small circles trying to regain her balance. I had proved, or possibly disproved, at least one law of physics because they both hit the surface of Lang's pool at the same moment. Jack had covered a greater distance in the same period of time. As the two bodies broke the calm of the water, everything went back to real time.

Since Grace hadn't soared as high, or as fast, she bobbed back to the surface almost ten seconds before Jack's head reappeared. She quickly reached the side of the pool and hung on desperately. Her teeth were already chattering and she had a bluish hue. Jack's head emerged and he began swimming for the nearby ladder.

Ralph Lang bent over and grabbed Grace's hands and lifted her out of the water. I noticed that her shirt clung to her braless tits and her nipples looked like small stones. Meanwhile Jack scampered up the ladder and rushed toward me cursing.

"Are you nuts, you crazy bastard? I ought to kick your ass and toss you into that ice water and see how you like it!" he threatened as he pushed his face into mine.

"Well, start kicking, Shit-face," I yelled back. "You'd better make your first shot count or you'll be right back cooling your balls in that pool!"

I was as angry as I had ever been. Still, part of my mind realized that Jack was a pretty big guy and I was going to be hurting before we finished, regardless of who was declared the victor. That thought did not cause me to back off in any way. I actually wanted to feel his fist against my face. That would justify whatever came next, and no matter what the outcome, the bastard would remember me.

I was taken completely by surprise when Jack pulled back and seemed to lose his mad immediately. He turned away from me and looked at the spectators watching the scene. Then he faced me again.

"Hell, Bill. I'm sorry! I overreacted there for a second. I can take a little joke as well as the next guy. I'll just go find some dry stuff to put on and have a drink with you when I come back."

The group parted to let Jack through. The silence was deafening. Then Betty Lang broke the quiet.

"Holy shit!" was all she said as she watched Jack disappear into the house.

Suddenly Grace was occupying the spot Jack had just vacated. Her color was still a little off, but she appeared to be getting warm, and fast.

"What the hell was that stunt?" she demanded. "You could have hurt me. You did get me wet and cold, and embarrassed the shit of me!"

"You can get your ass home within the next five minutes, or I'll be tossing your shit out in the street!" I snarled back. "It's your choice."

With that ultimatum, I turned and headed for the side gate. It was a longer way home because it let me out on the far side of the property, but it was the nearest exit and I wanted to get the fuck out as quickly as possible. My temper was still boiling and I didn't want to say, or do, anything in front of a lot of people that I could regret in the future.

As I marched home, I contemplated what had just occurred. I had heard Jack tell Grace that he was going to keep her bra and have her blow him later. Then I found Grace at the party, braless, which was way out of character for her. I found her sitting with the asshole and his hand was all over her ass and she didn't seem to object at all. I had accepted Jack's challenge eagerly and he had quickly backed down. I had just thrown down the gauntlet to Grace. I hadn't given myself, or her, much wiggle room!

Would she come home in five minutes? As I considered the situation, it seemed unlikely. Grace was the one that issued edicts and carried them out. I was the always the edict-ee, so to speak, not the edict-er. She'd probably stay away a few days just to demonstrate a point. Well, her shit would be all over the neighborhood by then because I had every intention of making good on my threat. You can only push a man so far. I sure as hell didn't have to put up with that sort of treatment!

Resigned to my fate, I retrieved a few garbage bags from the kitchen drawer as soon as I got home. There was no sense postponing the inevitable. I went into the living room and opened the foyer closet. I had decided to begin with the coats and hats Grace kept stored there. I had only managed to stuff a couple coats into a bag when a voice jarred me from my task.

"It seems to me like you'd give Grace a few minute's leeway, Bill."

I spun around to find Betty Lang standing in the open doorway with a soggy Grace looking over her shoulder. To say I was surprised would be a tremendous understatement.

"It was all I could do to make her wait long enough for Ralph to fetch a towel so she could dry off a little. If she's over her time limit, it's my fault, Bill, for insisting she wait. I drove her home to save a whole minute. We hit the red light on Elm and Grace tried to make me run it, just so she would be home in time," finished Betty.

"Grace, go upstairs and take a hot shower," I stated with no emotion.

Without a word, Grace started for the stairs.

"Betty, I owe you and Ralph an apology for the way I behaved at your party. I don't expect you to forgive, or forget it. I'll understand if we don't receive any more invitations from you," I added. "I wouldn't invite us after that spectacle this afternoon."

"That's where you and I differ, Bill," chuckled Betty. "I don't know exactly what precipitated your behavior, but I know you well enough to believe you felt you had a reason for your actions. Everyone will be hoping to be invited to our next wing ding once word of today gets out... and it will get out."

I didn't know how to respond to Betty so I remained silent trying to determine if she was serious, or making light of the situation.

"There's one thing I have to know, Bill, and I'm as serious as a heart attack about it. I need you to tell me that you will not harm Grace. I cannot leave without your assurance that no physical harm will come to her," pressed Betty. "I have never seen her so meek, nor you so angry. I can draw my own conclusions about that, but I'll not leave her here if there is any chance that you will do her bodily harm."

I felt tremendous admiration for Betty Lang at that moment. She couldn't weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds, but she was standing up for her friend. She showed no fear or concern for her own safety. If I were a demented prick that beat women, she should be worried.

"Betty, your concern for Grace is admirable, but unnecessary," I hastened to assure her. "I did have a bad few minutes there, but I would never intentionally strike or harm Grace in any way. Jack, however, is a different story."

"Don't think he didn't pick up on that pretty quickly by the pool when you faced him down!" grinned Betty. "You wiped the swagger off his face pretty damn fast. It's the difference between a pretender and the real deal. He wanted none of what you were offering, Bill. I do hope you and Jack settle your differences in a civilized manner, but that's not my business, as long as it isn't at our place. I trust you to treat Grace properly, so I'll leave. She loves you, Bill"

With that, Betty pulled the door shut behind her and was gone. I looked at the garbage bag in my hand and felt pretty sheepish as I dug Grace's coats out and hung them back up in the closet. Then I headed up the stairs to Grace.

I opened the door to the bathroom and walked in. Grace gasped and held her towel in front of her, as if to fend me off.

"Drop the towel, Grace. I want to see your nipples," was all I said.

Nervously, Grace lowered her towel. She had never seen me behave like this in the 23 years we had been married. I was still angry enough that I didn't care if she was afraid of me at the moment. I stepped closer and looked closely at her nipples. I had the notion that I'd find bite marks or a hickey of some kind on her breasts. There were no marks, but her breasts were exquisite.

"Where was your bra, today, Grace? It was pretty obvious that you weren't wearing one when I arrived at the party. You were waving your arms and bouncing your tits in front of everyone, especially Jack. How did you come to lose your bra, Grace?" I demanded.

"I didn't lose it, Bill. I didn't wear one today. I thought my shirt covered everything pretty well, and I wanted to tease and excite you when you came. I was just trying to be a little risqué. You haven't been too interested in me lately and I thought it might turn you on a little," responded Grace. "How do you think I could I lose a bra I'm wearing, anyway?"

"That's the question, Grace, isn't it?" I retorted as I walked back into our bedroom and looked into her underwear drawer.

I suddenly had an idea how I could trick her into revealing that she had been wearing a bra. "Which bra didn't you wear today? Is it one of these? Is it even here?"

Grace didn't answer so I looked up to fix her with a stare. She was looking at me like I was from outer space. I returned her look and waited for a response to my question.

"Do you realize what you just asked, Bill?" questioned Grace. "You asked me to tell you which bra I didn't wear. That would be every bra I own. Hell, it would be every bra on the planet! If I didn't wear a bra, I can show you any, and all, of my bras and tell you quite truthfully that I didn't wear it."

It took me a minute, but gradually it dawned on me just how stupid my question had been. I chalked it up to having a very bad day. It isn't every day you hear some jerk tell your wife to show him her tits and she does, seemingly with the understanding that she will blow him later.

"I know you were angry to see me sitting by Jack with his hand on my back and me with no bra on, but nothing happened, Bill. I know what sort Jack is. I'm sorry if it looked terrible, but I didn't do anything very bad. It just looked that way to you, Bill," apologized Grace. "I've never seen you so upset. I was glad that Jack knew enough to back off. I was afraid you were going to seriously hurt him. It would have been my fault."