They were actually going at it in the bushes. We'd gotten to the picnic early and set up the barbecue. The rest of the employees, having arrived pretty much on time, were socializing and drinking and having a gay old time.

As third man in the company of Silver and Silver Mfg., that is Benjamin and Rodney Silver, I was the barbecue man of choice. At S&S we manufacture a plethora of household goods, mostly electrical appliances. It wasn't all me of course doing the cooking, I was a high mucky-muck in the company; so I did enlist the help of Jim Conroy, our sales manager and Mary Cousins, our HRO chief; still, again, in point of fact the barbecue pit was traditionally my very own fiefdom at these get togethers which was fine with me.

Jane, my wife of fifteen years, and I always arrived at these dos early and today was no exception. Jane was a housewife, had never worked a day of our married life together. But for our company picnics she always contributed the German potato salad and some other dishes as the mood struck her.

I could see her, Jane, now carrying on with my immediate boss, Rodney Silver over by the tree line. They were laughing up a storm. I was feeling good. Well, that is I had been. I had been until I'd gone looking for my wife who had earlier, without my noticing, gone missing.

I'd handed the barbecue helm over to Jim, and like I said, I'd gone looking for her. Carol Bisbee, the big boss' secretary—Ben Silver, Rod's older brother, was numero uno in the company—pointed me to a copse of shrubs across the park as the direction in which she had seen her heading with some others. At least she thought that that was the direction that Jane had gone.

My woman had been gone for a good forty-five minutes before I'd started hunting her down. It'd been a full hour before I'd found her, and I wished I hadn't. They—she and my boss— were in a small open space hidden behind some bushes. She was naked and lying on her clothes. His pants were pulled down around his knees, and his cock was buried deep inside her cunt.

I was stunned. I was angry. And, mostly, I was sad. I'd headed back to tend the barbecue I'd left in Jim's hands.

My stomach was roiling. Taking over from Jim, I did my best to concentrate on the nothingness of the job at hand: making really good hamburger patties.

It was about twenty minutes after my discovering them that the two adulterers showed up. Breaking away from him, she came to me.

"Hi honey, doing a good job?" she said. She was smiling to beat the band.

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"Nonsense, you make the best burgers in the county. That's why you always get to do the barbecuing," she said. I thought it sweet of her to let me know how appreciated my burgers were.

I didn't say anything or even look at her. She sensed that I had something on my mind. She asked.

"Something wrong, big guy?" she said. Now, I did look at her.

"I don't know. You tell me," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I guess you have to be the one to tell me if sex with me is still at least okay," I said.

She paled, but gathered herself. "Roger! Why on earth would you say something like that?"

"Well, since you feel the need to fuck my boss, I just wondered if there was anything left for me. I mean in your heart—and—your plans," I said.

"What are you talking about? Are you nuts?" she said.

"I saw you, in the bushes, a few minutes ago. He was fucking you, and you were encouraging him," I said.

"Oh my god! Oh, my god! Roger, what are you going to do?" She was looking furtively around to see if anyone was close enough to figure out what was going on; there wasn't. "It's not what you think, really," she said. I just stared at her. I didn't say anything. She wheeled around and started walking away from me. Her gait was purposeful.

I saw her go to him. He was kind of far off, over by the kids' swings giving his little boy Aaron an assist, a small push. His wife, Elise Silver had not come to the party, had one of her own to go to as he'd told me the day before./

I saw her talk animatedly to him. His head suddenly snapped around, and he looked in my direction. I held his gaze for some seconds before he turned back to her. Oddly, she stayed where she was as he came towards me. I flipped a burger I was tending just as he approached.

He looked over at Jim who was sipping a beer a few yards away. "Jim, could you take over for Roger for a couple of minutes, please." Jim came over and held out his hand for the spatula. I gave it to him.

My boss headed off toward the tree line to our right. It was clear that I was supposed to follow him. I did.

"Roger, I don't know what to say," he said. Of course I knew he was about to say a lot. Well, I assumed he was.

"I guess you caught us. Jane said you did. Whaddya gonna do?" he said.

"What can I do? Nothing," I said, answering my own question.

"Huh?" he said.

"Me divorce her? I get raped by the court. And again, if I quit my job? I'm screwed there too. I'm forty-eight, too old to start over. So, I guess there is nothing I can do," I said. "Anything else, mister Silver?"

"Uh—no—I guess not," he said. I turned and headed back to the barbecue pit.

I didn't smell divorce in the air as far as her having me served was concerned. And, I knew that Rodney, at age forty-five, wouldn't want to be looking to get a divorce from his wife, Elise Silver, since her mother; the missus Alice Barrington, the widow of Marshall Barrington of hotel fame, was the power behind the throne if there ever were such a thing. She had been the actual founder of S&S Inc. some twenty years earlier when brothers Ben and Rodney had come to her with a an idea for a new firm: a good idea as it turned out. At any rate, I knew I had time to figure things out.

I knew what I knew, and I knew that wouldn't change with me getting all upset and angry and problematical. No indeed, I intended to do nothing for the near term. I would get along with Jane, make no waves that would overtly threaten Rodney, and generally be mister good guy, mister more than reasonable guy. Hell, I still needed her. The question was, did she still need or want me?

We pulled into the driveway just as true dark settled in around us. The ride home had been mostly silent.

"I'll unload the car. Okay?" I said.

"Yes, better now than tomorrow, Sunday," she said. "Tomorrow will be just for us to hang out, unless you'd rather us do something else," she said.

"No, I have nothing on tap at the moment. But, I'll think it over," I said.

"That'll be fine," she said. She was watching me closely. So far we'd not so much as mentioned the happenings of earlier in the day.

I came in through the front door. I could hear her doing something in the kitchen. I headed for the bathroom. I needed a shower; I smelled like barbecue.

It was some little while before I joined her in the dinette where she'd decided to situate herself. She had a jug of martinis set out and was nursing one. She poured me one, dropping the olive into it, as I took my seat.

"I thought we could have a drink or two and talk," she said. "Or not."

"Whatever you want, Jane. I'm easy," I said.

She sipped her drink. I followed suit. "Rog, you okay?" she said.

"Sure. I guess so," I said. Jesus, she looked pretty at that moment—and—sexy. I wanted her even though I knew she still had his spunk inside of her.

"You're not hurt? Oh, heck, of course you're hurt. I mean seeing me—us—like that. I am very sorry for that, Rog, sincerely." I nodded. "Anything I can do—well, just ask. I mean it."

"I do have a question," I said.

"Yes?"

"How is your doing him going to affect us?" I said. "I mean..."

"It won't affect us at all on my account, Rog. I know I made a mistake. I know you have a right to be angry. I'm surprised you haven't gotten angry already. Anyway, like I say, I won't let what I did affect us. And, I promise to make it up to you," she said.

"Okay," I said. I wanted to ask the next question in the worst way, but I was afraid of the answer. She asked and answered it herself.

"Roger, I know you are wondering if I will do it with him again. I'd like to be able to say that I wouldn't. But..."

"But, you will," I said. She looked away, and then looked back at me and nodded.

"But Rog, it will not affect our love life, nor will it interfere with any of our future plans. I promise you that. Can you understand what I'm about here?"

"I don't know. Not much I can do about it. I guess I'll just have to see.

"You say it won't affect our love life. If I were to say, I want you right now; I mean right now, what would you say?"

"Rog, I'd say yes, of course. But Rog, I haven't showered or douched. I don't think..." I stood.

"Come on," I said. "I want you now."

"Rog? Are you sure. I mean I can take a shower first..."

"No, I need you right now," I said. She rose from her chair and started toward the hall. I took hold of her arm and coaxed her back to the table. I turned her around and bent her over it.

Going to my knees, I flipped her dress up and pulled her panties down and off of her. She spread her legs wide for me. She relaxed as I stood once more, dropped my pants, and pressed my cock, all five inches of it, into her pussy. I began seesawing in and out of her. She looked back at me and smiled. I took my time. I managed to give her an orgasm just as I came myself, a very rare event for us. She started to straighten up as I backed out of her, but I held her in place. No words were spoken. She relaxed once more.

"I knelt behind her, and gazed at her cunt; it oozed cum and pussy juice. I began cleaning her out with my tongue. I had never been so turned on in my life. She started to turn around and stand, but I pushed gently on her back wordlessly urging her to stay bent over and submit to me.

Watching her with him had been a self-revelation. A revelation that was still unfolding. I didn't know where it was going to go, or how it would end. But, whatever happened, it was sure that nothing would ever be the same between my wife and me again.

She shuddered as at least two more orgasms shattered her reserve. I helped her back up and kissed her deep and hard. As I broke the kiss, she gently pushed me back a little. She looked deep into my eyes. Her expression intense, confused, questioning.

""Roger, what's happening to us?" she said.

"Damned if I know. Honestly. I have to think. What I am sure of right now is that we are not done. Let's go to bed," I said.

We fucked three more times that night. The one thing I can claim without a fear of contradiction is my staying power: stamina I had, more than most guys for sure. That said, I'd always had a problem getting her off. I didn't know if it was the length of my dick or the way I brushed her clit or what, but I could screw her all night and never get her off. She did make it on rare occasions, but only on rare occasions and on those nights she was more exhausted than I was; like she was the one that made it happen not me. At any rate, on this night, we fell asleep in each other's arms satisfied, and I'll be damned if I knew where all of this would end.

"Say that again," he said. "I mean I want to hear it all again because I don't believe it,"

"I don't blame you. I don't believe it either. But it's true. Roger was turned on, crazy turned on, from seeing you screw me. I have to tell you; he was better than you. This time he was better than you. He doesn't have your equipment, but Jesus did he have enthusiasm," she said.

He was slowly shaking his head from side to side. "The upside of all of this? said Rodney.

"The obvious upside, Rodney my dear, is that we don't have to worry about him outing us to your wife or kicking me to the curb," said, Jane.

"Dare I have the temerity to ask what's next?" he said.

"Frankly, I haven't a clue. I think the best course, for now, is for me to give him some time, a little space and let him find his equilibrium. Then, and only then, hint at some games of one kind or another. And before you ask me, no, I have no clue what game to suggest to him," she said. He nodded.

"Jane, no disrespect, I like the guy; but is it possible that our Roger is some kind of wimp?" he said. She smirked.

"I don't think so, but I really do not know. This is all so off the charts—I just don't know," she said.

"And us?" he said.

"We'll have to cool it for a while," she said. "But, I think that if we're careful—and I mean careful and patient—this may work for us, and maybe him too. It's worth a try." He nodded his agreement.

"Okay, just keep me in the loop. You know I love you, and I need you as much as he does."

"It shall be so," she said.

I was back at work Monday, and I was early. I wasn't giving anybody the slightest of reasons to fire me, remote as I was sure that possibility was. Plus, I wanted to make sure the guy who was helping my wife cuckold me wouldn't feel threatened. I knew his wife would destroy him if he were outted, but in that case I would without a doubt lose my job and I'd be screwed over too. No, I had to just put up with their shit and keep on keepin' on.

"I'd be ignoring their little liaisons in the future. I just hoped she wouldn't be rubbing my nose in it. I didn't think she would be, but who knew for sure.

I was tending to the report I was putting together for the quarterly sales figures when he came up to me.

"How's it going, Rog," said Rodney.

"Okay, almost done. I'll have the report on your desk by day's end," I said.

"Good, good. I need them for my report to the big boss," he said. I nodded.

"But on another note, we okay? You and me?" he said.

"Sure, I guess so. You?" I said.

"Yes, yes, of course, but you know..." he said.

"Mister Silver, I'm not going to make any waves. But—if you do her in the future, I'd appreciate it if you were discreet. It would be kinda humiliating if others..." my voice trailed off.

"Rog, you have nothing to worry about. I can promise you that," he said. I noted he hadn't said he wouldn't be screwing her, but he hadn't said he would be either. Just that I didn't have anything to worry about. I nodded.

For the next two months I was more than sure that I was the only one to use her cunt. Could I have been wrong about that? Maybe, but not likely. I worked where he did, and he was available to me the entire day. And since I went home immediately after work each day, and she was there when I got there each day, I don't know when she could have slipped out to him. Maybe lunch hours, but that would have been a helter skelter thing, and not too satisfying for either of them. No, she was cooling it for a while at the least. But then all of my thinking on the subject came to naught. She told me she was going to him. Nothing like being up front about things I suppose.

Yes, I was startled. Who wouldn't have been? And, oh, she was dressed very nicely.

"Honey, I'm—I'm going to be seeing Rodney tonight. Please don't wait up," she said. I will make it up to you tomorrow. Okay?" I just stared, but said nothing. I turned my back on her and left the room

I went up to our room. I laid down and tried to sleep even though it was only 7:00PM. I heard her car start up and then I was alone.

I analyzed my situation some more. It had been my primary occupation ever since the day at the picnic. I had hoped that maybe the sex we'd been having had been enough; and, it had never been better. I know that was true for the both of us. But, for some damn reason, good was evidently not good enough. Was his cock supersize? Did he have that much more staying power than me; I doubted that. Did he smell better? Was he more romantic? What the fuck was it that made my wife willing to fuck him and essentially rub my nose in it like she did tonight?

Oh, I was sure, that she was of the opinion that she was just being honest and up front with me. But, her just informing me that she was going to go to him; well, that is the very definition of rubbing my nose in it. And that was the one thing that might end us, none of the consequences attendant to her activities or my risking dumping her withstanding.

I needed a drink. I got up, grabbed my coat, and headed for the liquor store. I pulled into the lot, and changed my mind. I headed for the Roundtrip, my favorite watering hole, instead. It had been a while since I'd been in, I twern't much of a barfly. But, tonight was special; well, I saw it as special. My wife didn't know it, but she had just declared our marriage open.

I hadn't had any strange since the day we'd said our vows fifteen years gone, and really a year and a half before that. But, now, at our common age of forty, I was seriously considering making the effort to find me some now. The odd thing? I wasn't even all that mad. I was sad, true enough, but not really angry. I loved my woman and the disappointment at her doing me like she was, was killing my heart, hence, my sadness.

I more or less surreptitiously surveyed my environs from my barstool. Mostly guys hanging out after a day at the plant. A couple of women were yakking with the bartender at the other end. There was a toy manufacturer nearby and I could tell from the logos on the work shirts of a dozen guys, half of them over by the pool table, that they worked there. I headed over to join the shooters. I put a couple of quarters under the overhang of the table's rails, nodding to the players, and waited for somebody to tell me it was my ups. I went back to the bar.

It was about twenty minutes later that I was called. The game was straight pool, my favorite, and it was call shot. I won the first game, but lost in game two. I hung around gabbing with the shooters for the next little while.

Everybody had a story to tell, and I told mine. Which by the way, was one of three just like it.

"Names, Nick, Nick Klaver," the guy said as he relinquished the table to the next up.

"Roger, Roger Carlyle," I said.

"So, you say your wife is out spreading for your boss," he said.

"Yeah she is," I said. She told me not to worry or wait up." Nick smiled.

"You thinkin' of doin' anything about it? Maybe getting' some strange of your own or divorcing her?" he said.

"I don't know. Yeah," I said, "maybe yeah."

"You want a little help in that regard?" said Nick.

"Help? What kind of help?' I said. There was that smile again.

"Be here tomorrow same time. I think I just might have a possible solution to your problem," he said.

Just then we were interrupted as a lady. It was a younger lady, maybe thirty-five, and pretty came up to us.

"You ready to go, Nick?" she said.

"Yeah, I am," he said. He turned to me one more time.

"Tomorrow, 9:00PM," he said. And he was gone.

I was home at around midnight-thirty. She was there too: upstairs changing. I came into the room and was met with a quizzical glare.

"And you've been where all this time?" she said. I had to smile. I mean the hypocrisy of it, the question.

"At the Roundtrip. Got a problem with that?" I said, more or less standing up for myself. She seemed to relax.

"No, I suppose not," she said.

"You suppose not? Hey, I'm an adult. I can do what I please, unless you know of some law that forbids it," I said. And, yes, I was being a little testy.

"But, since it's Q&A time, may I ask, how did your fuck go tonight? Was it good. You know, satisfying?" I said.

"Look, Roger, Rodney is no threat to you or us. Okay. It's just a little playing on the side. And, for the record it's fairly rare, as I'm sure you have deduced," she said.

"You didn't answer my question?" I said, ignoring her analysis of what I knew.

"Yes, it was good, okay. No better than when you and I do it, but different. It's a matter of variety is all," she said.

"Well, okay then. I should tell you I did win twenty bucks at straight pool tonight. But, then, mores the pity, I lost it in the next Game. So, I guess it was sort of a good night for me too. I mean I did come out even if not actually ahead. You know kinda like my sex life, my marriage," I said.

She just glared at me. "Let's go to bed, she said finally. I'm tired and so must you be. It's late."

We went to bed, and surprise surprise she reached for my dick and it reacted traitorously. Stiff, as a five-inch long two-inch thick length of rebar, my little man reacted quite naturally to her sucking me off and swallowing it all. Oh, and the swallowing was a first!

"Well, that was a surprise," I said, seriously. She smiled.

"And there is plenty more where that came from since you are apparently being so understanding of my—activities," she said.

"Wait, wait, wait a minute. Are you saying that if I'm cool with you and him fucking up a storm that I will be rewarded? Is that what you're saying?" I said.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, young man," she said. I frowned, and then she did.

"What? What did I say?" she said, clearly wondering at my less than enthusiastic reaction.

"Well, and what If I'm not inclined to be reasonable. Then nothing for me? I can forget it? Is that what you're saying?" I said. She suddenly realized her faux pas.

"No, no, that is not what I meant. It's just that I do want you to be happy, and I thought..." she started.

"So, if I said to stop all of that stuff with him. You'd be okay with it; it wouldn't put an end to us or an end to my getting—what—rewarded?" I said.

"Roger, let me put it this way. No, my having sex with you is not conditional. Your tolerance, however, does inspire me to do more for you; well, like just now. Anyway, that said, I hope you will remain as tolerant as you have so far about my being with him on a 'rare' occasion," she said, emphasizing the word 'rare'. "Frankly, I have to say that I am surprised that you haven't gone off on me. And not just surprised, but grateful; I mean if I my say so."

"Yeah, right, tolerant that's me," I said, rolling over and going to sleep. I did have admit that the blow job had been state of the art, inspired by my wimpy ass tolerance or not.

I got there a little past eight. I'd broken it to her that I would be going out just as we'd finished eating.

"I'm gonna go play some more pool tonight, dear. I don't figure on being all that late," I said.

"You—going out—I mean you..." she started.

"Yeah, and thank you in advance for your tolerance," I said.

"Wha—huh?"

I had headed upstairs to get dressed. I didn't exactly dress to the nines, but I was significantly better dressed than I had been when I'd gone out the night before.

"You're wearing a tie to play pool," she said as I gave her a peck goodbye.

"Yeah," I said, and I was gone.

Nick was already there and standing in the midst of the pack of shooters waiting their turns and commenting on this or that shot as the occasion arose. I waved to him. He gave me a look and smiled.

He came up to me and waved me over to the bar. "Good to see you. I wondered if you were gonna show," he said.

"Yeah, well, I was curious," I said. "I mean as to how you figured to help me out of my situation. I gotta say so long as it isn't about breaking any law, I'm likely to be down for it,"

"No, no, nothing illegal," he said. "Got someone I want you to meet actually."

"Someone? A woman?" I said. I kinda half way figured it might be that.

"Hmm, yes, and a special woman if I may say so," he said.

"Hmm, I don't know. I mean, I am still hoping to save my marriage. I mean I know what I said Last night. But, heck I only met you last night let alone a new woman."

"And if you picked a woman up in a bar, you'd only have known her what, maybe even less than a couple of hours. Right?" he said. He had a point.

"Well, yeah, I guess that's so," I said.

"And this woman has been vetted, by me," he said. "And she is special."

"Special?" I said.

"Well, yeah," he said. "She's—well—she's my sister." All of a sudden I was losing interest fast. He saw my face fall and reacted.

"No, no. She's a princess, really," he said, "and very pretty."

"But? I hear a 'but' in there some place," I said. He looked away, looked back, and his demeanor morphed from almost desperate to determined. I was reintrigued

"Man, Roger, well—she's a prostitute. But! She'd give it up, the lifestyle that is, for the right guy," he said. I was suddenly unreintrigued.

"Look, Nick, I ain't castin' any stones, but..." I started.

"Man, just meet her. You can go to the bathroom and leave by the back door if it gets too uncomfortable," he said. He looked desperate again, so much so that I just shrugged and said okay.

She was five minutes late for the presumed 9:00PM meet up. She was smiling broadly and being the consummate pro coming up to me and offering me her hand to shake. It was the same girl that had come the night before to pick him up. We shook. "Very nice to meet you," she said.

"Very nice to meet you too," I said.

I motioned for the three of us to take our seats. This girl was a star if beauty had anything to do with it. George Gordon, Lord Byron had written a poem about her two hundred years before she was born: "She Walks in Beauty." I'd seen her the evening before, but then she'd been in ragged jeans and a t-shirt, hair in a bob, and no makeup. That was not the case now. She looked like a million bucks.

I was so glad I had dressed up some before coming to the meet. "Roger, I'd like you to meet Camilla, my sister," said Nick. And just like that I was launched on a path that I had no business being launched on. But then again? Well, maybe this was fate.

The talk went on for some little while. No mention of Camilla's job. I wondered if she knew that her brother had outted her to me. It didn't matter an iota to me; I was fucking well reintrigued—again.

After the second round of drinks, Nick made his excuses, and I was more than grateful that he did.

"Like to change the venue?" I said.

"Sure, I guess," she said. The girl always seemed to be half smiling.

I took us to the Starfish, a seafood place with a mellow atmosphere, a piano man that was in to romantic classics.

"Nice choice," she said. "Come here often?"

"Used to, but since my wife; well, since my wife has kinda gotten into some things, not so much."

"Too bad," she said. "So you and your wife are on the outs?" she said. "My brother clued me about your situation." I nodded.

"Hard to say, but it looks like we're done. I'm having her served this coming week. Seems like she needs more than I can deliver, or maybe it's just variety that she's after as she told me. I need a one man woman," I said.

"So there it was. I'd laid it out there for her to pick up and run with it. She, Camilla, was most definitely not a one man woman. I mean by definition a prostitute was anything but.

She started laughing. Almost like she couldn't contain herself. "I said something funny?" I said.

"Well, kinda, yes," she said. "I know my brother told you some stuff. And one of the things that he told you was my career choice. Right?" she said. I know I was red faced.

"Yeah, kinda," I said.

"Look, Roger, I'm divorced. I'm thirty-seven. My man dumped me for an eighteen year-old budding model. I took up escorting to pay the bills: an old friend of mine is in the business, and I'm good looking enough to do okay at it, so I do. But, if I ever marry again, I will be a one man woman for the man that I marry.

"Now, I know we have just met, so all of this talk about marriage and one man women is way over the top and premature, but it does have the virtue of being out of the way and done with.

"Now, we can get on with having a good time, and you can get on with wondering how long it's going to be before you get to bed me. Oh, and it won't be tonight. You're not a customer, and I'm not in the habit of spreading for each and every guy I date. That all okay with you?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes it is. And frankly, I am more than glad that we got all that stuff out of the way too. And, I will be thinking about the other thing as well," I said. She smiled and giggled; she knew what I was referring to.

"So what do you do? Nicky didn't say much except that you might be available to date and that you seemed a serious guy," she said. "So who are you really?"

"Okay, all fair questions. I'm third man at Silver and Silver Industries. We manufacture housewares of various types. The pay's okay and the benefits high end. Been doing it since getting out of college a thousand years ago," I said.

"A thousand years ago? You don't look all that old," she said, laughing.

"No, I'm soon to be forty-one. Married—for now—no kids, pretty much debt free, and planning on moving on with my life if we divorce which, like I said, seems to be more than likely," I said.

I'd told Jane that I would not be especially late. That turned out to be inaccurate. It was after 2:00AM before I trudged up the stairs to our bedroom, undressed, fell half dead into bed—well, four manhattans do things to a man. Oh, and Jane? She wasn't home.

She wasn't home when I fell into bed, but she was home within fifteen minutes of that eventuality. She turned on the light of the forty watt lamp on the bureau.

"When did you get in?" she said. She'd sensed that I was still awake. I'd decided to be straight with her. I would not lie to her.

"Just a little while ago," I said. "Got to talking to folks and time got away from me." I saw her nod.

"How was your evening?" I asked.

"Okay, same as last night," she said, answering thereby my unasked question. So she'd been fucked again. Fucking wonderful. But, on the upside, I didn't come to the gunfight unarmed.

"Hmm. I met a woman," I said. "It may lead somewhere. You know, like you and Rodney." I got a look for that announcement.

"Roger?" she said, and stopped.

"Yes?" I said.

"Are we all right? You into something that maybe I should know about?" she said.

"No, nothing yet," I said. "Like I say. I don't know what the future holds. I just know I'm not into sharing my wife with other men. But, if I have no choice, I am going to be getting some of mine back," I said. I said it, but I regretted saying it almost as soon as I did in fact say it. She began to cry.

She fell down on the floor. I went to her, sank to the floor bedside her, and did my best to console her.

"I never meant for us to br—break up," she said. "I was just funnin'."

"It's okay. We'll be all right. But..."

"No, no I'm giving up Rodney," she announced. "He's history. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay, good," I said. "We'll be fine."

Now I had a problem. I was sorta taken with Camilla. But, did I want to break up a fifteen year marriage to my wife? No, I didn't think so. Oh, she'd given me reason to end us. Oh yes she had. But, people do dumb things especially in relationships; I knew that, and I was empathetic with those who did.

I had decided to end my not yet launched relationship with Camilla before it began. We had a date; well, we were to meet up at the bar five days hence; I'd do it, end it face to face then. But then something happened that made me switch my position yet again, at least maybe switch it.

It was two days after my discussion with Jane. I got into work a little earlier than usual to find the boss already in and gabbing with Carl Hendricks, his media man, read computer specialist. They didn't see me. I turned down the corridor away from them, but then I heard my name.

"Yes, Roger'll be happy now. She called me yesterday and broke it off with me. It's okay. She was a good piece, but not irreplaceable," said Rodney Silver.

"Yeah, she was a good piece. I've had her a few times. She likes the bigger weenies though, and I'm kinda at the back of the line with only six-inches. Ah, but six very thick inches if I do say so," said Carl. The two of them laughed.

"Yeah, well if he ever finds out how widely she spreads her net; it won't be pretty," said Rodney. I didn't quite run to hide in my office, but close. I had to think. I had to plan or something. Yes, something. A clueless cuckold I'd been, but was no more.

I managed to get through the day without messing up to terribly bad. But the good news was that I was finally making some decisions. One, I would keep my date with Camilla all right, and I wouldn't be breaking it off with her. Hell no, I wouldn't. Two, I would be doing my best to discover just who the team members were that were banging my wife. Three, I was going into defense mode financially. This last was going to take some planning. But, I was not going to be letting the courts ruin me if I could at all help it, and I was pretty sure, well hopeful, that I could.

As for good 'ole Rodney Silver, I had a really good idea for that church going, mealy mouthed, fuckwad of a hypocrite. Oh yeah, this was going to be really fun. Might get me in trouble, but at the least it was going to be mucho worth it. Oh yeah.

In my position as number three at the firm, I was more than well paid. That had been one of, if not indeed the biggest reason, that I had not gone off on them in the first place. I was about to utilize that large income of mine to protect myself; something I should have done in the first place, but, water long passed under the bridge, I hadn't, and now here we were.

A PI was the first thing on my agenda. I budgeted twenty grand for operation "get the dirt," and I was more than sure it would be money well spent. His name was Howard Morning: fifty-eight, ex-cop, two bad divorces, and dedicated to helping husbands get justice.

"So you can do it: get the stuff I'll need?" I said.

"Sure bet. Give me a couple of weeks, a month at most. If she's actively cheating, I mean now. She's probably actively bragging about it; they almost always do. I mean to other girlfriends. I have an operative that will do the job with relish. You'll meet her in due time," said my new friend.

"And the guy too?" I said.

"Even easier. If he's actually carrying on water cooler conversations with coworkers about his conquests, I'm gonna almost feel guilty about exploiting the dumb ass," said Howard. I smiled, I nodded, I was filled with glee.

It turned out that Howard's methods were not only effective they were fast. It didn't take him a month or even two weeks. It took him just ten days.

A week and a half later, I got the call. I went to his office at lunch time. It, his office, being only two miles from my own was a bonus as far as I was concerned.

It turned out that Jane had indeed kept her word to break it off with my boss. It also turned out that she had been carrying on, at two different local bars, with any number of one night stands. Well, three during the ten days so far covered by my watchdog. I had audio, I had video, and I had pics. I had names and addresses and witnesses. And that was just the stuff on her.

It also turned out that mister Silver played in several sandboxes himself. He had two—count 'em—full time girlfriends who thought that they were his one and only. And, he had several occasional chickees too young for him to take seriously. Elder bother Silver and missus Rodney Silver were going to get the whole package, but that a little later rather than sooner.

I made the decision to keep Howard on the payroll for the full thirty days. Who knew what else he might turn up. Maybe drugs, missing funds at the store, whatever. They fucked me over, now it was my turn.

I was kinda disappointed, but then again maybe not. Howard got a ton more evidence during the next three weeks, but it was all pretty much just repeats of the first ten days. During the thirty day period, Jane had fucked around on me seven separate times with seven different studs all picked up at bars during the day; well, at least she didn't have an ongoing relationships in the works—yet ... Howard was able to find out that she did indeed always demand that her dates use condoms; how fucking considerate of her.

Rodney baby, during the same period, had dumped one of his serious relationships and seemed to be getting ready to make a move on his wife in favor of the remaining piece of strange. I had a decision to make. I made it.

I was going to go the 'scorched earth' route. His wife, my wife, all of their relatives, everybody in sight was going to get the evidence. I scheduled it for a week from Friday, that is, a week after my next date with Nick's sister, Camilla. I did want to see how that went before the shit hit the fan; which it, with apodeictic certitude, most certainly would.

Camilla and I had dated several times in the five weeks since my meeting up with her, but we had not gotten it on, so to speak; that is, not so far. Interestingly Jane did not seem to have a clue about my new maybe permanent squeeze. I guess she was focused on other things—read other men.

At any rate, I had been building my confidence up in terms of making my move on Jane and her legion of knights in soiled armor. I was feeling good, in control.

She saw I was early, and she smiled. "You're early," she said.

"Yes, well, I have this really cute lady to meet," I said, looking at my watch and trying not to break out laughing.

"Funny," she said. Now I did laugh.

"Yeah, well, it keeps me from going nuts," I said.

"I'm assuming, that since you're here, and apparently happy, that things are not hunky-dory at home," said Camilla.

"You'd be assuming correctly," I said. She nodded. "See it a lot, I do. It is what it is, I guess."

"Yes, it is," I said. "But, let's not waste time messin' with any of that. I'm here to have fun. I'm just hopin' that that fun girl I'm waiting for will hurry up and get here," I said, dead panning.

"I think she just arrived," she said. I smiled.

Dinner was good, the dancing was nice, the conversation light: now, we were in the midst of a moment of silence.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said.

"I'll give 'em to you for free; I don't need the money," I said.

"Okay, I like rich men too," she said, laughing.

"Well, I was just thinking that I wish I had etchings to show you," I said. Now she burst into gales of laughter. I smirked.

"Okay, so I'm a little on the corny side. It is what it is," I said.

"Oh what the hell. Come on. Let's go to my place; it's nearby. You can fuck me there," she said. I was momentarily stunned, happily stunned, but stunned nonetheless. Her turn to smirk.

"I'm a woman. I'm allowed to change my mind," she said.

Twenty minutes later she was on her back, and I was drilling her for all I was worth. I stiffened and she stiffened and I collapsed on top of her. I rolled off.

"That was good," I said.

"I'd say so," she said. "Any more stuff left in your squirt gun?"

"I sure as hell hope so. Any chance you might be willing to help me find out?" I said.

"Damn straight," she said.

She sat on my chest back to me and played with my instrument of procreation. It twitched. It stiffened. It threatened her womanhood. She rolled onto her belly, splayed her legs, and waited for me to take her from behind. I accommodated her. I took my time. What can I say; I loved the feeling.

The day of reckoning arrived, and I had misgivings. This was going to hurt her, but I was for sure going to be emotional collateral damage at the very least.

It was 9:00AM; I punched the enter key and the stuff went out—to half of the universe—that is to one hundred and fourteen separate and specific e-addresses. By sundown, I was pretty sure that there would be a mafia contract out on my person.

I left work ten minutes after the send. I had already packed up everything that mattered to me and gotten it out of the building. I headed for the Roundtrip. By 11:00AM my cell started going off almost constantly. I waited for the one I was sure would come from her. I was disappointed; she never called. And why not, you might be inclined to ask? Because at 12:13PM she plopped down on the bar stool next to mine.

"I got the news about half an hour and a half ago. You're buying the drinks," she said.

"Sure bet," I said. "Hope your next lover will be up to Rodney's standards."

"Funny. But, no, no more playing around on you. No, you're going to have to up your dicksmanship; or, go to plan B and pay me a helluva lot of alimony. Your choice," she said.

"Hmm, you've got balls of brass coming in here and threatening me," I said.

"Roger, whatever else you may think, threatening you is not what I'm doing—really," she said. "I love you, and as your wife, I am letting you know what you have to do, to consider, for us to move on. I'm giving you your best options as it were.

"I deserved what you did to me, Roger. I know it. It was my selfishness that destroyed me today and made me the laughingstock of our little village, not you outing me. I know it, like I said. But, now we have to move on. You love me, I know that too. And, for the record, believe it or not, I am proud of what you did," she said.

"What the fuck!" I said.

"Yes. What you did. It was all so well planned, thought out, and executed. Rodney and the others got what they deserved, just as I did. One thing though...

"Grandma? Why her? That was overkill, Roger. Next time, if there is a next time, kindly leave her name off of your list. I mean really. Okay," said Jane. I snickered, but I guess I had to agree with her on that one; grandma would be off the list.

I sat on that stool staring at her like she were from outer space. I started laughing. For the life of me I started laughing. This woman was one of a kind. Divorce her? Did I really want to? For damn sure she was going to be monumentally difficult to replace. I mean in the whole world how many might there be like her? Answer: damn few.

"I'll let you know," I said. She nodded.

"Good. I'll leave you alone now to cerebrate. Oh, and I've already got beef stew in the slow cooker for tonight. Try to be home before six o'clock, okay?" she said.

I gave her a wave that spelled maybe, but I think we both knew I'd be home by six. Well, she did make the best beef stew in the county. And her pussy was pretty high test too if it came to that. But, then, there was my half assed commitment to Camilla.

I loved Jane, no question. But, Jane had fucked me over. But, she hadn't really done it because I was inadequate or really because she wanted someone better me. It had been a matter of variety, I supposed, as she had told me. And, I was of the opinion that she did indeed love me and only me. But, then again, there was Camilla: how did I feel about her? Love? Like? Lust? Curiosity? I honestly didn't know, but I'd be finding out and making some decisions.

Okay, I had a major decision to make. My wife was a roundheeled slut with really high end cooking skills. She probably did love me, and I sure as hell loved her. But, trust was a major issue. In the end if I couldn't get around that one it was going to be a deal breaker for damn sure.

I was at the house at six minutes past six.

"Good you came. I was a little worried that you wouldn't," she said.

"I keep my word, Jane, which is more than some people can claim," I said. She frowned.

"Let's have a drink before dinner, okay?" she said.

"That'd be a winner in my book, I said. She smiled and we went into the den. She poured me my JD on the rocks and herself a glass of merlot.

"Got myself into a real mess, didn't I husband mine," she said.

"That would be a big ass affirmative," I said.

"Mind if I work at making you forget and forgive," she said. "I mean, I really want you, Roger. Not any of those one-night cowboys. They were never anything but diversions. It'll never happen again."

"Hmm, and I would know that how?" I said.

"I don't know, but I do know that if I sinned you'd know about it just like this time. Ergo, I will not sin," she said. I gave her a look that was meant to send the message that she was oh so right.

We talked about a couple of other things, and drinks consumed, we headed for the dinette. The slow-cooker was in the middle of the table and the contents thereof smelled real good. A bowl of steamed vegetables and a bottle of merlot flanked the cooker.

"You gonna give me a chance, Roger? I mean in spite of everything?" she said, as I bit into a chunk of roast beef and smiled.

"Good food," I said.

"Roogggeeerrrr!" she said.

"I don't know, Jane. I want to, but I want to be able to believe you more. So far you've burned me twice. Kinda hard to make a case that you won't fuck me over again if you know what I mean," I said. She deflated.

"What you say is kinda true, but I did break it up with Rodney; and he's the only one that could be described in any way shape or form as a relationship. And, even in his case it was only the sex, never anything serious. I think you know that too," she said.

"Actually, Jane, I do believe you on that score. But, I'm not talking about serious relationships here. I'm talking about you just plain cheating. That is, giving it away to men not your husband. I'm talking about the humiliation of others thinking that your husband is some kind of a wuss, a pussy who can't satisfy his wife. Do you have any idea how hurtful that is for a man? I mean to know that he's not enough for his woman and for everybody else to know it too? It's tremendously hurtful, Jane, big time hurtful. Are you getting this?" I said.

"Yes, sir, I am," she said. "But, Roger you are more than enough for any woman. Those other men were just cheap spur of the moment toys, useful for an hour and then to be cast aside. Even Rodney never had any real value as a partner. He was just convenient and pretty good at fucking. And if it matters, he never had your stamina. He was good at somethings, but he usually fell flat after maybe five or so minutes."

"Problem is, Jane, that you shouldn't even be able to compare the two of us. He shouldn't even be part of the equation, but he is. So are those other men. Mentally, you have to be comparing me with them every time you do one of them," I said "Tell me you didn't. Just tell me if you dare."

She looked away. "I guess that's so. The good news though, is that you always seemed to come out on top," she said.

"And, that, Jane, is a lie. I do not believe for a New York minute that I am better in bed than all of those men, your men. Maybe some of them; I'd accept that. But all you're doing here, now, is lying to make me feel better. Which, dear girl, is just another way to humiliate me. Which brings up another point, I would really appreciate the truth tonight, even if it's a little bit on the painful side for me. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. "A couple of them were maybe better than you. But not that many, and that is the truth. And, well, one guy, just one, had a ten-inch dick. He wasn't all that good at using it, but it was an experience. He touched me in places I didn't know were there."

"Okay, good. At least some of this stuff you're laying out there has the ring of truth. There have been enough lies, Jane. Really more than enough," I said.

"Yes, sir," she said. "No more lies, no more cheating. Is that better?"

"Yes, if you're sincere," I said. Fact was I knew she was sincere. Fact also was I was not at all sure that she would remain faithful in spite of her wanting to at this point in time. She just liked cock too much to settle for one average one. She needed variety and the experiences that variety ensured.

"We'll talk again," I said. She nodded. I did not stay the night. I knew the rules per divorces. She did to. My lawyer was going to be upset enough when I recounted the evening's happenings.

Things started to settle down. I knew that in the short term, that Jane was going to be a good girl. But, longer? That was a my concern. I just didn't believe that she could do it. But I was in it for the one, big, last, old college try.

She'd been served, and now I was living separately but hardly that; we were together almost constantly. Oh, she'd asked me, begged me to move back in, but that wasn't happening until I was as sure as I could be that things were going to be cool. I did not want to snafu the divorce if I decided to finally to go that way.

At any rate after a couple of weeks of dating Jane, if that's what I was doing; and keeping up with Camilla on the side, who by the way knew the score because I'd told her, I hired Howard Morning for one more month. At the end of week three of mister Morning's second surveillance assignment, I was called in to his office.

His look told me all. "She's at it again isn't she?" I said.

"Yes, and with the old guy, Rodney Silver. I guess since his wife divorced him and him losing his job; well, I guess he decided that he may as well go for it, her, your wife," said Howard. "She's been real skittish, as you'll see on the tapes; but apparently a willing lover for all of that, and I mean lover not fuck buddy. They talk about you and it isn't real complimentary." Now I was mad.

"Okay, Howard, let me have what you've got. I'll dump it on her tonight. I have a burning need to dump it on her," I said. He nodded.

I was exiting the office when I saw him. He was standing by my car. I smiled. He, on the other hand, was not smiling. He leaned back against the driver's side door.

"Thought you were real smart huh, asshole," he said. Now, he was smiling.

"How the hell are you, Rodney baby? Hope all is well in Rodneyville," I said, I was smirking. "Now, if you don't mind standing away from my car. I want to go home."

"Why? To your loving wife? She'll be mine before this all plays out," he said.

"Hmm, she'd definitely be the loser if that were to happen," I said. "I mean when one gets right down to it, you really aren't much of a catch, Rodney old bud." He snickered.

"And you ain't much in bed," he said. "She's told me about your desperate attempts to, how shall I say it, measure up. Yes, that's the words she used, to measure up."

He started laughing and then he unloaded on me. I was caught completely by surprise. I think I flew six feet back from the first strike landing on my ass. I was down and he was kicking and stomping on me. Then everything was fine, no more pain, no more kicking, everything was fine. And then pretty girls were hanging over me. And then he was in jail. And then there was a trial. And then he was out on bail.

I'd spent four days in the hospital: three broken ribs, two missing teeth, and too many bruises and other trauma to count. Rodney was in jail for three days before he got bailed out. By who you may wonder? Why by my everlovin' wife; Howard had gotten that little piece of news for me; I hung up the phone, and, I hung it up angry. On the other side of the coin, my wife did visit me all four days I was laid up; how fucking wonderful is that! Still...

My wife bailing him out was a good thing on two counts; well, as far as I was concerned. One, it put an end to my wishful thinking as regards any attempt by me to get by her cheating. And two, it will have led to my winning the hand of Camilla. This last still had some scenes to play out, but it was definitely the goal.

She was home and cooking. "Hi, honey," she said. I plopped down on a stool in the kitchenette.

"Hello," I said. She looked me askance.

"Something wrong?" she said.

"Wrong? Not sure if that's the right term. Maybe betrayal—again—would fit a little better. Not sure," I said.

"Huh? What?" she said.

"You know, you bailing out the man who almost killed me for outing him to his wife," I said. She paled.

"Wha..." I just stared at her.

"Honey—I—I..." she ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She didn't actually slam the door to the bedroom, but she did kinda close it loudly. I made myself a drink.

It was a full two hours before she came down again. And, when she did, she was showered and clean dressed.

"You're looking real good," I said. "Going out?"

"No, this is for you. You deserve a clean woman."

"How about a faithful one," I said.

"That's what I want to talk about. You know I dumped Rodney some time ago, right?" she said.

"That's what you said," I said.

"Well, I did. But, I haven't forgotten what it was like with him. I always kinda felt like I'd treated him badly. So when I heard he'd been arrested..."

"You felt like you needed to help him out some way?" I finished for her.

"Kinda," she said.

"But, you had no feelings for me; I mean wanting to be faithful to me, did you?" I said. And, you fucked him didn't you?"

"Yes on both counts. I did feel I owed you faithfulness and I did fuck him—and—will again. But, no more sneaking around. You'll be my number one. But, well, once in a while I will be bedding him. You've done everything but castrate him, and yes I know what he did to you was just awful. But, you have to see it from his point of view. He was despairing and desperate and filled with angst and hate."

"His point of view. Like him having the cajones to fuck my wife behind my back. Him talking shit about you behind your back—and yes, I actually heard him tell someone else just how replaceable you were." Her look morphed from confident to not so confident.

"What pisses me off more than you bailing him, bailing out the guy who almost killed me is the fact that I never got that kind of consideration from you. He's your number one man, not me. Only the fact that Elise destroyed him has brought him back to your bed," I said.

She nodded her understanding of my words. "I knew you were thinking that way. Earlier when you told me you already knew about my bailing him out: I was, well, I was shocked. But not for the reason you think. I was shocked because I was going to out myself, and that tonight, but, you beat me to it," she said. "That put me in a bad spot."

"You were going to out yourself?" I said.

"Yes, I needed to prove to you that it is you that is number one not Rodney. And, I was going to do more than out myself. I was planning to offer you a deal." She took on a phony Godfather-mafioso accent. "I was going to make you an offer you couldn't refuse," she said, trying to smile.

I gave her a look that spelled suspicion. "Huh?" I said.

"And, I still am. That's why I was so long in coming back down here," she said. "Well, and the extra time I took to cry over a whole lot of spilt milk."

"Okay, the crying is pretty straight forward, but the rest of it?" I said.

"You see the way I'm dressed," she started.

"Yes, you look very nice. You said it was for me. But what..."

"Yes, I intend to fulfill every fantasy you ever had. I'm going to damn near smother you with love and affection. I intend to prove to you that not only are you number one, but that you are pretty nearly going to be the only one on my dance card.

"So whaddya say? You gonna give me a chance?" she said.

"Pretty nearly? What does that mean?" I said. She sighed.

"That's gonna be the hard part for you.

There'll be no sneaking around by me anymore, Rog. No more. I will do Rodney, or someone like him every once in a great while. Well, I do need the mega-dick on occasion, but only for the thrill of the moment, no emotional entanglements," she said. "I know that that might be hard for you in the beginning, but I think I know where you're at now."

"Where I'm at?" I said.

"Roger, I haven't been spying on you, but a friend of mine. Well, a friend of mine found out that you're dating a prostitute. Obviously it's not a matter of your woman getting it on with another man that bothers you, no, it's your insecurities that she might dump you for someone else. Otherwise you would be looking for some churchgoing woman that spreads only for you, not taking up with a prostie.

"It also explains in neon letters why you didn't go off on me when you caught Rodney and me in the park that day. You were hoping and maybe pretty sure that I would be faithful to you—in every important sense of the word—even if I did fuck your boss." I looked at her in disbelief.

"So you're going to be doing Rodney for money now?' I said, and I said it sarcastically. She smirked.

"No, of course not. He's a friend, and just a friend. A friend and I hope one who you'll have a little mercy on and try to help me get the charges dropped. Yes, he deserves to be punished for what he did to you. But, prison? No, Roger, you ruined him. And, I grant that what you did was not without cause, but you really did ruin him. He may never recover from that. And that should be his punishment and it's enough. Okay?" she said.

I had to admit that her argument had a certain logic to it. I was indeed dating a prostitute that was a true fact. Yes, Camilla had promised that her career on her back would end when she married, but would it. I apparently was not enough for Jane, would I be for a woman like Camilla either?

And, there was the fact that Camilla's playing for pay did not really upset me much; actually, it didn't upset me at all. So why should I be upset about Jane fucking Rodney on a rare occasion? Yes, she did have a logical argument in making her case. But, there was just one fly in the ointment that negated her otherwise indisputable arguments.

Camilla's faceless clients were not nearly the same thing as my wife fucking my ex-friend and boss. Oh no, not nearly the same thing. Add to that that there had to be an emotional attachment that Jane had with Rodney. If not she never would have bailed him out after he damn near killed me. She should have been horrified at what he did; and, following that do her level best to help me destroy him. I decided to point out these little flaws in her thinking to her.

I shook my head slowly from side to side. "No dice Jane. Camilla is not invested in any of her clients, and she has promised to give them up for the right man. You on the other hand are very invested in Rodney, and I mean emotionally. And, you refuse to give him up. I might indeed move to the front of the line now that Rodney is broke and sucking hind titty. But, the best I could hope for, even being at the front of the line, would be fairly enthusiastic mercy fucks. That's not good enough. No, dear heart, and you are still that to me, we will be going ahead with the divorce and I will be getting on with my life whether with Camilla or someone else. Just not with you," I said. She sighed.

"Well, I had to take my shot," she said. "Friends?"

"I can do that," I said. "But more than that just won't be happening."

"And, putting in a recommendation for leniency, I mean not pressing charges..." she said.

I smiled. Her agenda was becoming clearer with every syllable she uttered. Her shot was actually two shots. One to guarantee herself a more substantial standard of living than she could expect with Rodney in first place. And two, to get me to intervene with the D.A. to cut Rodney some slack.

She failed per number one, and number two seemed to be slipping from her grip. I made a decision.

"Okay, Jane, I'll see what I can do to help your loverboy, and it's against my better judgment. But, you owe me," I said. And, he pays all of the doctor bills without a whimper.

I knew that mister Silver was facing five to ten. I would ask D.A. Mortensen to lighten up. Of course I had no idea if my saying anything would do any good, but I'd make the effort. I'd make it because I'd told her I would.

After having gotten the news about my wife bailing out her asshole lover; and, after our discussion on the matter and our breakup, I'd gone ahead and talked to the D.A. He said he'd think about it.

It was a week later that I got the news. Mister Silver would be serving a year and a day. He'd have a felony record but he could be out in eight or nine months with good behavior.

I got a letter from Jane thanking me effusively for helping her lover out. From Silver himself? Nothing. But, I hadn't expected anything.

Now it was time to get on with things. I subjected Camilla to a ferocious two minute offense. I hit her from every direction at once and her defenses crumbled like the walls of Jericho.

We were married three weeks after my divorce was final.

And Rodney and Jane. I know they date. Will they marry? It's six to five and pick 'em. And, it is none of my business.