Across That Line

Brad enjoyed the better sex, but he knew the reason for the passion...and he was afraid of it. While he loved her newfound zeal for sex in all positions and at all times of the day, he knew she was feeding off the excitement of flirting with other men. There was something of the exhibitionist in his wife. He was sure there was an element of that in the thrill she felt.

He was certain she had no intention of cheating on him; the thought of going any further with those men probably hadn't entered her mind. But he couldn't help but feel the tables full of guys from the nightclub were phantom visitors in their bedroom now, there to boost her arousal and give her orgasms more powerful than she could get otherwise.

He tested his theory. Six weeks after their return, he suggested getting a babysitter and going out for a night on the town. She agreed eagerly. When she found out he was willing to wear one of the other pair of pants and a shirt she'd bought him, she ecstatically decided on another dress he'd selected for her in the store. This one was a mini dress, tighter and more form fitting than the halter dress...and it was slit a few inches up each side. She selected a pair of high stiletto heels but left her legs bare. The black thong she wore barely covered the essentials.

She jumped him minutes after he returned from driving the babysitter home. They paused only to lock their bedroom door for fear the kids would wake up and hear them. Brad didn't think he could deal with them asking what he and mommy were doing when she screamed so loud. Even though they had to keep comparatively quiet, Ashley's heated response to the evening's flirting was unmistakable. She loved having another opportunity to flirt with attractive men...and watch as Brad made tentative gestures toward doing the same with a couple of pretty girls.

Two months later, the sex cooled again. Ashley didn't bring anything up, but one Saturday night, she surprised Brad with a fully arranged date night for his birthday. She wore another sexy dress and had him wear the garb she liked seeing him in. She teased him, saying he was her very own dress up doll and she liked showing him off.

When they got home, she almost tore her dress off anddid tear his shirt she was so impatient to get it off him. Had the girls not been spending the night with Ashley's mom, they surely would have been frightened at the loud, energetic coupling going on in their Mom's bedroom.

Brad wondered how long it would take until Ashley hinted they needed another night on the town. It had been two months the last time...

Only a few weeks later, the sex got hotter again, but without a night out to spark it. They'd been together all day, so Brad didn'treally wonder if his wife might be seeing someone else...someone who excited her and got her motor running. There'd been no opportunity...he hoped.

He'd been out in the yard most of the day though, and she'd been inside. He wondered...he couldn't help it. He searched for information...afraid of what he would find, but obsessed with finding out what was happening.

A week later, he decided she wasn't cheating. He didn't see where she had thetime to be having an affair. Going over things in his mind, there simply weren't any red flags. She was never late coming home, never anywhere Brad didn't know she would be, there were no phone calls from strange men...and no hang ups when he answered. If she had a secret email account, Brad couldn't find it...and he was far more skilled with computers than Ashley was. The keylogger he installed on their computer didn't show any suspicious activity.

When he stopped by her desk for impromptu lunches, she never refused and all her coworkers smiled, wishing them well. Brad knew some of the old biddies in there well enough that if Ashley had strange visitors, they'd let him know with disapproving looks. There was just nothing that struck a nerve. He put away all the spying devices he'd bought.

A month later, the sex heated up again and the level stayed high for a week and more. This time, he saw something...something that shouldn't have been there.

# #

"Honey? Who's Glenna Hartford?" Brad asked his wife casually. He was very carefullynot watching Ashley--he was sorting through the mail she'd brought in a few minutes ago when she got home from work. On the other hand, Brad could see as well with his peripheral vision as most people could staring straight ahead.

When every muscle in Ashley's body appeared to spasm, he knew he'd found what he'd been looking for...what he'd been afraid he'd find. Ashley almost dropped the glass of water she was drinking at the sink. She had to double clutch and grab the tumbler just before it slipped from her fingers.

"She works at the bank the trust company uses," Ashley said finally. If Brad hadn't been looking for it, he'd never have seen the furtiveness in her eyes when she turned around.

"Why?" Ashley asked. There was almost no tremor in her voice.

"Oh..." Brad said, pointing into the living room, "there's a message from her on the answering machine...she wants you to call her." He pretended he didn't see Ashley's eyes dart to the doorway. He ignored the fact she was clearly restraining herself from trotting into the living to call this woman back. Brad's mind was dark. The empty pit in his stomach began to ache. It was a common tactic for men having an affair to have another woman friend call the married wife. Brad had read about it. He knew it happened.

"Glenna and her husband, Dean, are old friends of mine too...from back before I met you," Ashley offered, surprising Brad. He hadn't believed his wife would explain anything. She shouldn't have. Ashley had a tendency to babble when she was nervous or caught out and she was on the verge of having that happen to her right now. She might say too much without realizing it.

"Oh, yeah?" Brad said, hoping he appeared to be disinterested. "I don't think I've met them, have I?" he asked carelessly.

"No...I don't think so," Ashley said hurriedly. "Actually, I haven't heard from either of them for a long time myself," she added. "I'll get that message and give her a call sometime," Ashley said casually.

She'd lied to him. The message had been for Ashley to call this "Glenna" at home and gave a phone number. Brad routinely monitored his and Ashley's online billing for their cell phones. The day after the message was left, Ashley made a call to another number, one whose prefix showed it was a cell phone, and one Brad didn't recognize.

On a hunch, he called that cell phone number from a pay phone, pretending to look for a "Glenda Hartmann." He told the woman who answered directory service had given him this number but the woman insisted her name was Glenna, not, Glenda...and her last name wasn't Hartmann either. Brad thanked her profusely and asked her to please excuse the interruption in her afternoon.

With that confirmed, Brad went over the printouts of all his and Ashley's cell phone calls and found his wife and this Glenna Hartford had been exchanging calls and text messages for about four months. He wondered if this Glenna was a woman calling Ashley for a man who wanted to talk to Ashley but was afraid he'd get Brad if he called Ashley directly. Reluctantly, he reinstalled a keylogger on the computer and pulled his amateur surveillance gear down from the attic.

Two nights later, before the keylogger showed any activity on Ashley's part, Brad inadvertently deleted the URL for one of his favorite sports sites. He checked the browser history to see if it had been retained...and found a gold mine. There were three websites he didn't recognize, but their names explained everything. For some time, as far back as the history went anyway, Ashley had been cruising swinger websites.

He put things together quickly. He'd always been good at seeing patterns and this was an easy one to figure out. It wasn't what he'd thought. It could be worse. There might not be just one man Ashley was involved with.

Actually, it appeared Ashley had reconnected with one of the couples Ashley and her second husband had been tight with when Ash was involved in the swinging scene. His theory was confirmed when he found an email account at Yahoo. The keylogger supplied Ashley's password to it so he had access whenever he might nerve himself to use it. Then another phone number surfaced.

Brad refused himself a visible reaction to the information. Ashley wasn't cheating on him, so far as he could tell...not yet...and she wasn't back in the "Lifestyle" because there was never an evening when she went out without Brad. She hadn't had an opportunity to physically reengage with the old crowd...yet.

He spent two weeks trying to find a way out of this mess but couldn't find one that had any real possibility of success...not one. In the end, Brad had to admit the only thing he could do had almost no chance of saving his marriage in the long run. If he couldn't have the marriage he wanted though, he'd take what he could get.

# #

"That's not going to happen," Ashley said emphatically. "Brad doesn't know I'm even talking to you so he for sure doesn't know you and Dean are in the lifestyle and that's the way it's going to stay, woman. I amnot going to invite you two over for dinner or anything so you can work on my husband, so get thatout of your mind, okay?"

Brad was listening to a digital recording of a meeting between Ashley and the woman Brad knew was Glenna Hartford. He'd taped the recorder in place beneath the driver's seat in Ashley's car on a hunch the day before yesterday. At dinner that night, Ashley had asked him if he were coming by for lunch the next day...yesterday now. When he said he was afraid he'd be in a meeting right around her lunch break, she'd said she'd go with one of her girlfriends. Evidently, his instincts had been correct.

"But, Ash, honey," the woman's voice protested, "I promise I wouldn't even try to talk to your Bradley about anything remotely connected to you two playing with me and Dean. It could just be a vanilla barbeque with a couple of good friends, I swear."

Ashley tittered for a long moment. Her short barks of laughter were derisive and mocking.

"Honey chile'," Ashley remarked, "you couldn't help yourself. Girlfriend, I'veseen you in action...youforget that? Shoot, you'd flirt with a fence post if someone warm and breathing wasn't there!" Glenna laughed at her friend's remarks.

"Well...you might be right," she admitted. "Maybe it's best I don't get near that hunk you call a husband. I remember those pictures you showed me...my goodness, I might just totally forget myself," Glenna added primly. Ashley's snort of disbelief silenced them both for a moment.

Brad listened as the women gave their order at a drive-up window and got their finances straight with a change of a ten-dollar bill to Ashley's hand in exchange for her giving a five to Glenna. The mechanical voice's announcement of the total cost indicated the reimbursement was approximately correct. The women must have driven to a park. Traffic sounds diminished and there was a faint echo of children's voices in the background.

"So...you going to keep hitting the swingers boards and chat rooms I told you about?" Glenna asked after a period of silence. The recorder was sound operated and evidently hadn't picked up the sounds of them consuming their meal.

"Yeah...Iguess so," Ashley said unenthusiastically. "Ihate it though. It's like I'm lying to him. I don't want to have any secrets from him...but he wouldn't understand," Ashley said sadly. "I don't know ifI understand," she remarked. "It's like I'm one of those darn rats following the Pied Piper and I can't break loose, you know?"

"Sure," Glenna said cheerfully. "It's addictive. Just cruising those websites and chatting with people who like to do naughty things is a turn-on...and you have me to tell you about our latest party too. I'll bet you go home with your snatch sopping wet from listening to me talk about those, don't you?" she asked slyly. "Don't you?"

"Some," Ashley admitted after a time. Glenna's triumphant laughter boomed on the recording for a long moment.

"Iknow you do, sugar," Glenna proclaimed.

"Brad's doing much better when we go out on date nights," Ashley remarked. "He doesn't seem to mind as much me doing a little flirting. And justthinking what I...well...thinking of what I would have done with those guys in the old days...it keeps me hot for days and days."

Glenna laughed again.

"Sweetie," she said in a conspiratorial tone, "you say the word and you and me can go on a few "girls night outs" here and there, and you'll be able to..."

"Never!" Ashley said flatly. There was an edge to her voice. "I've told you before, Glenna...I willnot cheat on my husband...never!"

"Okay, honey," Glenna said soothingly, "I won't bring it up again, okay? I'm sure you can make do with your dates and chat rooms and stuff," she told Ashley.

"I have to," Ashley said in the silence. It wasn't that encouraging to the man listening to them on tape. She didn't have her heart in it.

# #

"Hey, sugar," Brad called as he came in the door, "want to go out to the Roadhouse tonight?" "John's Roadhouse" was a fairly new club over on the north side of town that catered to young professionals. Ashley and he had been there several times over the last month and a half.

"On aTuesday night?" Ashley asked in a mystified tone. "Brad, there won't be anyone there tonight...will there?" In spite of herself, she was intrigued. She could feel the warmth in her groin.

With Brad increasingly tolerant of her talking to a few handsome men and flirting ever more shamelessly every time they went out, the trips to the city's nightspots were more and more fun for her. She really enjoyed watching pretty girls flutter around her husband...she was certain it was a product of the clothes she bought for him and a newfound confidence Brad had developed over the past year.

Before that, he'd thought his body was ugly and seriously believed his large nose made women think he was ugly. He wasn't at all, and Ashley loved it when he agreed to wear shirts tailored for his well-developed chest and muscular arms, along with pants too tight for real comfort.

"Well, I don't know for sure," Brad replied, "but we can find out, can't we? We don't have to stay late, you know...I have to work tomorrow, same as you."

It only took a couple of seconds to convince Ashley. While she called their regular babysitter, Brad fixed them a quick drink. The plastic grocery sack he'd brought home from work went into his sock drawer.

# #

"Well,that was a waste of time," Ashley said disgustedly after they paid the babysitter and ushered her out the door.

"I know, hun," Brad said to placate his frustrated wife. He watched the teenage girl who'd stayed with Cindy and Cathy walk across the street and go four houses down. When the porch light went out down there, he closed his door and locked it.

"How ever, comma..." he said in a devious voice, "perhaps the night isn't over yet."

"What?" Ashley asked irritably. "I'm tired, Brad...don't play games, okay?"

Brad's lips tightened to a thin line, but Ashley didn't see. He was halfway up the stairs to their bedroom and the only ones home up there were two sleeping little girls. Retrieving the package from his chest of drawers, he checked on the kids to make sure they still slept and pulled their door shut.

"I have a suggestion," he announced when he got back downstairs. Ashley had poured glasses of wine for them both and had just sat down on the sofa.

"Well...it can't be for too long, Bradley," Ashley cautioned. "We need to get in bed soon."

"We can stop any time we want and start again some other time," he promised. He took the DVD out of the sack and worked with the player. The darned thing never seemed to work right the first time anyone tried to get the tray to slide out.

"Oh...a movie," Ashley commented. She was trying not to feel let down but there was disappointment in her voice all the same.

Brad finally got the DVD player to accept the disk. He made his way quickly to the sofa and took his glass of wine from Ashley. Pointing the remote at the entertainment center, Brad touched the "Play" button. A bright blue screen flashed on the wide-screen TV and then gave way to a title superimposed over a blank, gray background.

"Neighborhood Romp?" Ashley asked in a puzzled tone.

"Shush," Brad told her. "Watch the movie, sugar." Ashley shrugged and turned back to the TV.

It was clear within the first few minutes what the movie was about. Ashley gasped as the first two couples shed their clothing and began fondling one another. While the men didn't touch, the girls had their hands all over each other and both the men too. A short time later, three more couples joined the first two and got out of their clothes in seconds.

The camera work and the hesitations, stumbles, and missed lines on the part of the "actors" identified the DVD as an amateur production. That was okay. Brad had chosen it at the adult bookstorebecause it was an amateur work.

"You brought home a porn movie, Bradley James Rogers?" Ashley asked sharply. Brad's heart sank for a moment. He'd thought...well, he wasn't sure what he'd thought now. He thumbed the button to stop the DVD.

"Did you think you could make up for a lousy run to that watering hole with some cheap video of sweaty people humping each other?" Ashley said in a biting tone.

"Ah...honey...I'm sorry," Brad said. "I thought if...well, I figured we could watch it...and maybe the evening wouldn't be a complete wreck," he told her.

"Well, you listen tome, dear husband," Ashley remarked, "if youever do this again...you need to give a girl a little warning, okay? So she can get into the right...outfit...for a movie like this, you know?"

Having set her husband up very well with her pretended anger, the warmth in her last few comments was almost lost. Giggling like a schoolgirl, she pulled on her husband's shirt at the throat and tugged his head down for a long kiss.

"Youreally need a spanking for that," Brad said slowly. "I hope you know that woman."

"Hmmmmm...kinky," taunted Ashley. "What about the kids?" she asked, turning serious for a moment.

"Sleeping like logs," Brad assured her, "and their door is shut tight."

"K..."Ashley purred, "...then I should get into my nasty movie outfit, right?"

"Right," Brad replied. "Uh..."

Ashley stood and handed her half-empty wineglass to Brad. She turned toward the stairs and made as if to climb them, but stopped two steps up. Grinning, she turned back around and dropped the skirt she'd worn out tonight to puddle around her feet. The top followed suit in seconds and her underwear was quickly tossed on the growing pile. She looked down at herself for a second.

"I think I'll leave my thigh highs on...is that all right, honey?" she asked her enthralled husband.

"Oh, heck yeah," he said quickly.

Brad stood and looked around for a place to deposit the two wineglasses. He put them on the end table at the far end of the couch, banging them down much harder than he'd intended. He grimaced, then ignored what he'd done when he saw they weren't broken. He turned the lamp down to its lowest setting and a warm dimness settled into the room.

Ashley padded back to her husband and took his hands off his belt buckle to replace it with hers. She deftly undid the belt, and then unzipped him as quickly as he could have done it himself. Brad left the clothing beneath his waist to his wife's capable hands and pulled his shirt over his head and off.