Chapter 6: Work Week

Monday morning, I got up as usual without waking my wife; fixed my breakfast and began the long drive to work. As I drove, I started thinking about Saturday night. I had honestly enjoyed myself, but I still felt a little insecure and worried that maybe Marissa had enjoyed it too much.

I guess that I was experiencing penis envy and it didn’t help that Tony was such a big flirt. But maybe now that he’d had sex with Marissa he would back off. And then I remembered her standing in his kitchen, nearly naked, doing his dishes, and I thought, “Fat chance with that.“

I realized, as I merged onto the Five, that it was something that Marissa and I needed to talk about. I just had to think of a way to bring my concerns up without making it sound like I was being too insecure about our marriage. I mulled it over during my commute, but couldn’t think of a good approach.

On the drive home on Wednesday, I decided I would just talk to her. I mean we were both responsible adults, weren’t we? I was sure that we could agree on a plan ensuring that our relationship with our new neighbor wouldn’t get out of hand.

Marissa’s Jag was in the garage when I got home. “Good, you’re here,” I said to myself. I went into the house and all I could hear was the sound of the air conditioner. I started going from room to room and finally I went into her office and there she was. Both she and Ginger were asleep. Ginger was curled up in her dog bed and Marissa was leaning over her desk with her head down, cradled on her crossed arms.

Ginger, at least, raised her head and thumped her tail as I entered the room. My wife seemed dead to the world. I realized that it would be counter-productive to wake her because if she was that tired, she might not be able to think logically. Besides, one more day wouldn’t hurt; I could talk to her tomorrow night.

On Thursday, several boxes arrived at my office by courier from Tony’s former tax firm. After opening a couple of boxes, I realized that they had sent nothing in an electronic format. Before I would begin to analyze his tax situation, we would have to key in all of his data manually and it would all be billable. I asked one of my junior accountants to begin going through and organizing things for me. Looking at the boxes, I wondered if I needed to hire more staff.

This looked like Tony was going to be a very profitable client and my partners were delighted when I showed them some preliminary figures I was able to glean from a few of his financials.

When I got home that evening, before I could say anything Marissa announced, “Tony’s invited us over to his place Saturday afternoon for a pool party and barbeque.”

Trying to keep the bias out of my voice, I murmured, “Hmmm.” And after a pause added, “Do you want to?”

“I went ahead and told him yes. It sounds like fun.”

“What if it’s like his housewarming party. That was a big frat party for all his male friends and acquaintances.”

“It won’t be. It won’t be,” she repeated. “He said will just be four of us.” She moved up and put her arms around my waist and looked up at me.

Everything thing I planned to say about cooling it with Tony went out the window.

“Uh oh, that sounds like a repeat of our dinner out last weekend.”

“Well, you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. On one hand the cocaine enhanced sex with his girlfriend had been mind-blowing. But I realized that that my overwhelming emotion was jealousy. I couldn’t forget how much my wife enjoyed Tony’s big cock that night. I wasn’t sure that I wanted her to experience a repeat performance. I tried a different tactic. “You know Tony doesn’t hold women to a very high regard.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I mean he thinks that women are only good for screwing.”

“Don’t you?” she asked, playfully running her finger nails across the back of my hand.

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m serious; you should hear the way he talks about women.”

She looked at me questioningly. “Did he say something about me?”

“No, not exactly; it’s more women in general. I think that he thinks of you as just another notch in his belt.”

“Hmm,” she murmured. “I think that you’re being just a little insecure.”

That threw me a little. “Marissa,” I started a bit exasperated. “I don’t think that you’re being fair. I think that he just wants to fuck you.”

My wife’s demeanor seemed to get a little frosty and she shot back, “What if I just want to fuck him too?”

I was startled and felt myself getting angry. “Dammit honey, that’s, that’s...”

Melissa interrupted, “I am curious about one thing.”

“What?”

“Why did you suggest to Tony that we swap the other night?” she asked frostily.

Clearly surprised, I replied a little too loudly, “I didn’t suggest it; he did!“

“Sure, sure Brad. And I don’t much like your tone.”

“My tone? He’s the one that ask me if I wanted to swap, not me; or, or it was his girlfriend. I’m not sure which.”

“So, you didn’t tell him that you’d like to fuck his girlfriend?”

My mind raced back to my conversation with Tony. I think I told him I thought that she was a knock-out. I couldn’t remember if I’d admitted any carnal thoughts. “NO!“ I said, now way to loud.

I could tell that Marissa assumed that my long pause made it look like I was lying, and she said, “Come on Brad; I saw the way you were dancing with her and don’t raise your voice with me.”

I stopped and looked away; trying to remember exactly what he and I had talked about. But by the look on her face, Marissa again seemed to take this as an admission of guilt. “When did he tell you all this?” I finally asked.

“When he and I watched you kissing his girlfriend on the dance floor. I saw you grinding her groin against her as you kissed her. You had an obvious erection when we came back to the table.”

“Damn, women don’t miss a thing,” I thought to myself. I knew that I was on dangerous ground and opened my mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to counter with. What was I supposed to say, “It wasn’t my fault she was running her toes up my leg all evening?“ But wisely I didn’t, but still I was flustered. “She came on to me. I, I couldn’t help myself,” I said lamely.