My wife was having an Avon party so I stopped for a few beers after work with some of the guys. I wasn't paying much attention to the other people in the bar, at least not until I heard a very familiar laugh. I hadn't heard it in years, but the laugh was so distinctive that I knew who it had to be. I got up from my table and went looking. He was at a table at the back of the bar with two women and another man and even though I might be intruding I walked toward his table. When I got close enough I said, "Excuse me, but the bartender told me I could find the only man in the world uglier than me back here at this table."

He looked up at me and the recognition was instant. He leaped up from the table and said, "Thems fightin words asshole" and he rushed at me. I saw alarm on the faces of the others at the table, but it turned to confusion as I braced myself for what I knew was coming and opened my arms. He rushed up to me and stopped and we grabbed each other in a bear hug. "Billy! You old son of a bitch. Where did you come from?"

I pointed to the front of the bar, "From a table back there."

"No, no, I mean what are you doing here?"

"I live here, have for the last ten years now."

Sam and I had been in the Army together and I hadn't seen him in almost twenty-five years. We had gone through basic together, gotten shipped to Vietnam together, had served in the same unit and survived, came home together and were discharged together. We had kept in touch for four or five years and then had lost contact. In Vietnam he had saved my ass a couple of times and I had helped him stay whole a time or two and once upon a time we had been as close as any two guys can be. He invited me to join his table, but I begged off since I was with other people too. We did exchange phone numbers and I promised to call him the next day.

The next day I called Sam and we made a date for lunch. Over lunch we caught up on each other's lives. I found out that he had moved to town five years previous and that he was a regional sales manager for a company that my company occasionally did business with. I told him about my wife Daphne and her Avon business, my two kids - grown up and gone - and he told me about his two divorces - "no kids, thank God" - and about his current girl friend. "She isn't really my girlfriend, just a call girl that I'm very fond of. I have been trying to get her to marry me for almost five years now, but she just won't do it." I raised an eyebrow at that and he saw it and smiled, "What can I say? She is special and I've never met a woman like her." After that day Sam and I saw each other two or three times a week, either after work or at lunch. We sent each other customers and helped each other on business deals. The one thing I wasn't able to do was invite him over to dinner to meet Daphne; on the nights he was free Daphne was having one of her Avon parties and when Daphne was free Sam wasn't.

One afternoon, just before leaving work, my boss called me into his office. "I have a problem Bill. I've just had a family emergency and I have to leave for Atlanta this evening. I'll be gone the rest of the week and Sterns (our best customer) will be in town the day after tomorrow. I need you to see to it that he enjoys his stay. I've got him booked into the Hilton, but I need you to pick him up at the airport, get him settled in and see to it that he is taken care of."

I said, "No problem Stan" and I left his office. On the way back to my office Roger saw me and said, "What's the matter chum? You look like your cat just died."

I told him what Stan wanted me to do, "One of our best customers, if not the best, and I'm to see to it that he enjoys his stay. I don't know anything at all about the man. How am I supposed to know what to do to see that he enjoys himself."

Roger laughed and said, "Just see to it that he gets laid while he's here and you're home free."

I asked him what he meant, "All Stan does is book him into the penthouse at the Hilton, set him up with a call girl and pick up the tab for his stay. Piece of cake. Just make sure the girl is a class act and you are the hero."

Oh goody, I thought, just make sure she's a class act! The only problem with that was that I didn't have a clue where I was going to find a call girl at all, let alone a class act. Outside of the bar girls in Vietnam I'd never even seen a call girl. I was still wondering what I was going to do when I stopped at Sam's' office the next day to pick him up for lunch. He was on the phone and I sat down in the chair in front of his desk and was staring out the window deep in thought when he hung up the phone. "You look like a man with a problem son, what's up?"

I told him about my little problem and he grinned at me, "Still the straight arrow huh? Well, old Sam can help you out. If it's a class act you need I've got just the lady for you. I've been using her ever since I moved to town. In fact, she's the one I told you about, the one I keep asking to marry me and let me take her away from her life of sin. Actually, I think she is already married and hooks on the side for fun. I can tell you this - the lady sure does love her work."

He picked up the phone, punched in a number and waited. "Good morning love of my life. I'm just calling to see if you are ready to marry me yet. No? You sure know how to ruin a man's day. Well, okay. I do have another reason for calling. A very good friend of mine has the need of your services. Yes, I'll vouch for him. Sure, we can do that. Mario's at five-thirty, okay?" He hung up the phone, "She wants to meet you. Because what she does is frowned on by the authorities in this town she likes to meet prospective customers and get a feel for them before she agrees to do business with them. So, you get to meet my love tonight at Mario's."

Sam and I were sitting at a table in Mario's and we had been there, sipping beer, since a quarter to five. I noticed that it was getting close to five-thirty so I got up and went to the bathroom so I wouldn't have to get up when the woman got here. When I came out of the bathroom I saw that she had already arrived and was sitting at the table with Sam. From the back she looked familiar and the closer I got to the table the more familiar she looked. Sam said, "Here he is now." She turned to face me just as Sam said, "Bill, this is Daphne. Daphne, this is my good friend Bill."

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at my wife. It was almost a minute before I was able to speak and during that time several thoughts ran through my mind, but the bottom line ended up being that I didn't want Sam to know that my wife was a whore. Not that she was going to be my wife very much longer. As I sat down I remembered Sam telling me that he had been using her ever since he had come to town five years ago and I wondered how long before that she had been in 'business'.

"I was just telling Daphne about how long we have known each other" and he went on talking about our history as I watched Daphne across the table. I was amazed at how coolly she was reacting to the situation, but then she was probably just as amazed that I hadn't come over the table after her and gone for her throat. Sam finally finished his recitation of our past and said, "So Bill, why don't you explain your problem to Daphne."

As calmly as I could I explained the problem that Stan had dropped in my lap and Daphne sat there and listened. When I was done she took out a little notebook and asked for the client's name, what night she would be needed and where he was staying. She wrote the information down and then told me that she would be available that night. She fished in her purse and handed me a white business card with nothing on it but a cell phone number. She smiled and said, "I don't do all nighters and I don't do anal (which surprised the hell out of me because she goes crazy when she gets it in the ass) and I have to be done by eleven-thirty. My fee for the period's noon to five or six to eleven is five hundred dollars. If that is acceptable to you I prefer cash, but I will take a check from a friend of Sam's."

I took out my checkbook and wrote a check for five hundred leaving the payee space blank and handed it over to her. She said thank you, folded the check and put it in her purse. "Thanks for the help Sam" I said as I stood up, "I've got something else I have to attend to so if the two of you will excuse me. Nice meeting you Daphne, and Sam, I'll call you in the morning" and I left.

On the way home I debated just packing a bag and getting out, but that would just put off the confrontation and I decided to just go home, wait for Daphne and have it out. I was surprised that I wasn't more upset than I was at finding out that my wife of twenty-four years was a high priced call girl and that she had been one for some time. I knew from Sam that she had been one for at least five years, but for how long before Sam met her? I guessed that it would probably be as long as she had been an Avon lady since that is what she used for cover to get out of the house. If that was true then she had been whoring for almost eight years. Eight years and I'd not had a clue - not one! As I sat waiting for Daphne to come home I thought back over the years and searched my memory for anything that might have given me a hint of what she had been up to. Try as I might I could not come up with anything. The only constant was that when she came home from her Avon parties she had always been hot, wet and wanting to make love. I'd asked her about it once and she'd told me that all that the women at those parties talked about was sex and that by the time the party was over she was so hot and bothered that all she wanted to do was come home and fuck me to death. I had never questioned it after that. Now I understood what the wet really was - I was getting sloppy seconds.

Daphne averaged five Avon parties a week, some during the day and some at night. At five a week, fifty-two weeks a year for eight years that meant that I had followed someone else into my wife's pussy over two thousand and eighty times. That was just fucking mind boggling. Equally mind boggling was the money - at five hundred a pop that came to almost 1.4 million. Even if she started low and slowly increased her fee until she commanded the higher amount that was still a lot of money. I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost eleven. I don't know why, but I had expected that Daphne would have rushed home after our meeting. It appeared that I guessed wrong and that she wasn't going to come home and face the music. At eleven-fifteen I went to bed.

I didn't hear her come in. The first that I knew she was home was when she crawled into bed with me, snuggled up next to me and put her hand on my cock. She started to stroke me and despite myself I started to get hard.

"That's it baby, get hard for me" Daphne said, "I know you're mad, I know you're angry and we can talk about it in the morning, but I'm horny right now baby. Come on baby, fuck me."

By that time my cock was hard and without waiting for me to say something she rolled over on top of me and pushed herself down on my cock. This time when I slid into her hot, wet hole I knew what was happening - no bullshit story about being hot for me - this time I knew she was wet because someone else had just finished fucking her. I just lay there and let her fuck me. After five minutes she rolled off of me onto her back and tried to pull me up on her.

"Come on baby, don't be mean to me. Please baby, please fuck me."

I didn't want to. I really, really didn't want to, but you know what they say about a stiff dick, let alone a stiff dick that has just spent five minutes in a hot pussy, and so I mounted her and began pounding into her. It was the first time in my life that I had fucked my wife. All the other times I had been making love, at least I had been, I couldn't say what she had been doing. She began moaning, "That's it baby, that's it. Fuck me baby, fuck me, fuck your whore. Make me cum baby, make your slut cum" and then she had an orgasm and thirty seconds later I had mine. I rolled off of her and turned my back to her to indicate that she should leave me alone, but she moved in next to me, put her arms around me and said, "I know you won't believe me, but I do love you and I don't want to lose you."

Yeah, right, I thought as I tried to fall asleep.

Daphne was still sleeping when I got up in the morning. I went downstairs and got the coffeepot going and then I went back upstairs and took my shower. When I came out Daphne wasn't in bed so I knew she was down stairs in the kitchen waiting for me. I shaved and then dressed and then went down to get it over with. She was sitting at the table drinking coffee when I walked in the kitchen and I waited for her to say something. I poured my coffee and waited, but I guess she was waiting for me to start. Without looking at her I said, "I'll see a lawyer today, or at least make an appointment to see one. You can spend the day making a list of what you want out of the wreckage. I'll also look into finding a place to stay and when I get home tonight I'll pack."

"Aren't you even going to talk to me?"

"Why? What's there to say? I've been a cuckold for eight years now. I did some math while waiting for you to come home last night and I was astounded at how many cocks I've followed into you. I can't believe how stupid I was to believe that bullshit you fed met about why you were always so wet when you came to bed when all the time you were feeding me sloppy seconds."

"It hasn't been eight years, only five."

"Still, an average of five quote "Avon Parties" unquote a week adds up to a lot of sloppy seconds."

"It hasn't been five times a week, only two and sometimes three. I do sell Avon at parties."

I lost it and hollered, "Jesus Christ woman, stop fucking quibbling! The bottom line is that you are a fucking whore! I'm married to a goddamned prostitute and you're treating it like it means nothing. I rediscover the man who was my best friend for the three hardest years of my life and I find out he has been fucking you for the last five years. Do you know how many times I've tried to bring him home to dinner over the last two weeks? Do you have any idea what it would have been like if I had managed to do it? Now I don't dare do it."

"It might be awkward at first, but it won't be difficult."

"And just why is that?"

"Because he knows."

"He knows?"

" When you got up and left he made the comment that it wasn't like you to behave like that and he wondered what the problem was. I told him you were probably upset because you had just found out that your wife was a whore. He knew right away what I was saying."

"Great, just fucking great. I suppose the next thing that you are going to tell me is that the reason you didn't follow me out of the bar and come home is that you spent the evening fucking Sam."

Daphne looked down at the table and said, "He is one of my customers."

I looked at her like she was from another planet. "I find out you are a whore. I get up and leave. Instead of getting up and rushing home you stay and fuck my best friend. Then you come home and tell me you really love me and don't want to lose me. Isn't that what you were supposed to rush home and say instead of staying there, fucking Sam, and then coming home? You ruin the marriage and then say I might as well stay here and fuck up the friendship while I'm at it and then I'll rush home? I don't have time for any more of this shit, I have to get to work" and I started to leave the room.

"Billy, we have to talk."

"We can talk tonight when I get home."

"No we can't, unless you want to wait up for me."

"See? Even your fucking customers come first!"

"Baby, you are the one who hired me to take care of Mr. Sterns tonight. If I don't go and because of it your company's relationship with him turns bad Stan will hold it against you. It's your call. Just say so and I'll be here when you get home."

"Oh no Daphne, it's your call. I have to go to work" and I left.

When I got to work there were several messages from Sam waiting for me. I really didn't want to talk to him. I know it was silly of me to hold it against him that he was fucking my wife, after all, to him she was a call girl, but when he fucked her last night he knew she was my wife and he fucked her anyway. I told the receptionist not to put any calls from Sam through and then I buried myself in my work. I hoped that I could stay busy enough so it would keep my mind off thinking about my own personal problems. It worked, at least up to a point. At eleven-thirty my secretary stuck her head in the door and told me it was time to go to the airport and collect Sterns which of course brought everything back. The flight was on time and on the way to the Hilton Sterns was all business, but when I dropped him at the Hilton he said, "I suppose Stan made all the usual arrangements for me?" I assured him that they had been even though I had no clue as to what Daphne was going to do.

When I got back to the office my secretary handed me a stack of message slips from Sam and a look that said "please get him off my back." I called Sam and when he answered I told him to stop calling. He told me that we needed to talk and I told him no we didn't. "A major part of my life went into the toilet last night and now is not a good time for me to be talking to anyone who had a part in it."

"Hey, that's not fair and you know it. I had no way of knowing that she was your wife."

"You knew it last night Sam, but you didn't let it stop you then, did you? Do me a favor and stop bugging my secretary" and I hung up.

I some how made it through the rest of the day, but when I got off I didn't really want to go home to what I was going to have to face. I was on my second vodka tonic when Sam dropped into the chair across from me. I looked over at him with a scowl on my face and he said, "Sorry to intrude old son, but I know you need someone to talk to right now and it needs to be someone who has seen you at your best and at your worst and that would be me."