The Fourth Man

"Hey, old buddy," called an enthusiastic Jack from a golf cart headed his way. "Damn, man, you still look glum. Are you sure you're okay?" he asked pulling up behind Ken's car to transfer his clubs to the cart.

"Ah, Jen and I are having a little spat, that's all, nothing earth shattering," replied Ken as he strapped his clubs to the back of the golf course vehicle.

Jack looked inside the trunk before shutting the lid then saw the suit hanging up in the back. "Are you moving out?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, not really, just taking an overnight sabbatical. Come on," he insisted, not wanting to talk about it anymore. "Did they come up with a fourth man?"

"Well, yes and no."

"What do you mean, yes and no? Either they did or they didn't."

"Well they came up with a fourth person," responded Jack.

Ken looked at him for a second while considering his friend's words..."Oh no, the fourth man is a woman?"

"Yup, her name is Tara but the pro says she shoots in the low eighties so you'd better have your "A" game ready, old buddy, I'd hate to have to tell everyone at work how you were beaten by a lady."

***

Jennifer was putting her suitcase in the car. She would have never thought it possible, but fate had sanctioned her to experience a longing that started when she was still in school; but at what cost? She was aware of her husband's lack of response when she told him she loved him over the phone but the anticipation of the weekend tempered her fearful thoughts with excitement. Now that it was over she was left with only the fear.

She hadn't had breakfast and was planning to stop for something but decided she had to get home; she wanted to be there for him when Ken returned from the golf course. She wanted to start making things up to him immediately. Her heart started to pound with anxiety as she pressed a little harder on the gas pedal.

By the time she pulled into the drive she had the entire evening worked out in her head. There were two Cornish hens in the freezer she could thaw quickly in warm water; she knew they also had at least one bottle of her husband's favorite white wine to go with them. While dinner was in the rotisserie she would put on her sexiest lingerie, his favorite, the black corset with garter straps to hold the black thigh high stockings. Just seeing her in that outfit always got him worked up.

After dinner she would make him a present of her behind. She'd always refused him before. No one had ever screwed her in the ass before, not even Ken; she was afraid of the pain. Tonight she would endure the pain for her husband. Tonight he would break her rear cherry.

Yup, she thought, I will leave no doubt in his mind that he is my one and only lover. By the time I'm done with him tonight he'll be well on the way to forgiving me and never again will there be anymore secrets; I will treat him like a king, because that's what he is.

In spite of the eighty some degrees outside she caught a chill as she walked into the house. Something had changed, their home always seemed so warm and inviting, but for some reason it felt different, lonely and cold. She put her overnight case down and noticed the lamp was missing from the table. Jennifer looked around and saw Ken's favorite painting was also missing; her eyes followed the scratch on the wall down to the broken fragments of both missing pieces.

She gasped and brought her hand quickly to her mouth. Her anxiety worsened as she realized Ken must have thrown the lamp against the wall and hit the painting. "My God, what have I done," she whispered.

Rarely did Ken lose his temper and never had she seen him enraged to the point of throwing something. She started to tremble as she began to understand the hurt with which she had infected on her loving husband. Not more than three hours prior she had been okay with her decision, now she was racked with guilt.

Tears leaked from her eyes as Jennifer walked over and carefully knelt down to examine the expensive watercolor. The painting itself was not harmed, but it would have to be reframed. She would do that on Monday and surprise him when he came home after work. She cautiously picked up and threw out as much of the glass and broken pieces of lamp as she could then vacuumed up the rest.

She checked the time, it was already two o'clock in the afternoon; she knew he'd be coming home soon and she hadn't even started thawing the birds out yet. Suppressing her emotions temporarily, Jen took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen, she was determined to start her penance with his favorite dinner and a romantic evening at home.

As soon as she had the hens sitting in the warm water, Jennifer walked back out to the hall, picked up her suitcase, and climbed the stairs. She was looking forward to relaxing in a tube of her favorite bath oil, the one that drove Ken crazy with desire from its seductive scent.

As she turned at the top of the stairs Jen was surprised to see their bedroom door closed. She noticed the lock about the same time she tried the knob, but for a second her brain couldn't conceive why the door wouldn't open. Then it hit her, oh my God, she thought, he's locked me out of our bedroom...but...

She turned and saw her clothes lying on the bed in the guest room. Jen could feel the panic building in her chest as she slowly, nervously walked into the room that had previously been reserved for the occasional over-night company. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed and stared down at the drawer full of panties and bras sitting on the floor. It's not even here, she thought. The corset she was going to wear was in another drawer and she couldn't even get in their room to get it. Her mind flashed backwards to all the events that should have prepared her; the broken lamp, his refusal to say he loved her during her last phone call, the look on his face when she answered his question about the blow-job. All the signs were there, she'd just done a rotten job of reading them.

It was if she'd been hit with an avalanche of guilt, shame, and remorse; she buried her face in her hands and burst out crying hysterically. "Oh God I hope I haven't ruined my marriage," she shrieked aloud. The distraught woman slumped over on the guest bed; her entire body was racked with fright as tears flowed spontaneously down her cheeks.

She knew he was hurt, he told her, but she had no idea how deeply he was hurt or the height of his anger. She lay sobbing as her mind scoured through a dozen different ways to show him how sorry she was.

Finally, her tears exhausted, Jen gradually came back to reality. She looked at the clock. She was so preoccupied with her penance, time had slipped away from her. She was shocked to see she had wasted an hour, crying. Where is he, she wondered, he should be home by now.

She felt listless, her whole body was void of energy, but believing she was running out of time, Jennifer dried the tears from her face and dragged herself into the kitchen to start dinner. After seasoning the hens she stuck them in the rotisserie and set the dining room table, complete with candles.

She glanced at the clock, it was after four; where was he? He was never this late getting home from golf. Then a terrible thought occurred to her, what if he locked the bedroom door to hide the fact that his clothes were gone; what if he'd left her?

Oh God, she uttered...no, he wouldn't do that, not without telling me; no, he couldn't do that. Her entire body started to tremble. She was starting to panic for the second time since coming home. She sat on the couch in the living room and started to cry again but kept telling herself that her loving husband would never leave her; not like this, not without confronting her first.

It took her only a few minutes to convince herself that Ken was probably sitting around drinking beer with his friends and would still be home shortly. Okay, she thought, I can't wear my corset but there's some pretty sexy lingerie in that drawer I can wear. With a new resolve and determination to make things right, Ken's pretty wife ran up the stairs and took a shower. She paid no attention at the dwindling time as she made herself pretty, first with make-up, then with the prettiest lingerie she could find.

She threw on a robe and returned to the kitchen just in time to remove the Cornish hens and set the table. Refusing to believe he wouldn't be walking in at any second, she lit the candles and took her place alongside her husband's chair.

A tear rolled down her smooth cheek as she sat alone and listened to the grandfather clock in the living room sound six times. Jennifer had never felt as lonely as she did at that moment. She had to accept the fact that the romantic evening she had planned was not going to happen. She had avoided calling him, she was hoping to surprise him but now she felt as if she had no choice.

Jen took a deep breath and forced herself to pick up the phone. She was terrified of what her husband might tell her. Her hands shook as she touched the familiar numbers.

Ken was just getting ready to walk across the street to the local Denny's for dinner when his phone rang. He looked and saw it was his house phone. He sighed, he knew it was coming; in fact he was surprised it took her so long.

"Hello," Ken answered with no emotion in his voice.

"Hon...honey," he heard his wife say softly from the other end.

"This is Ken," he responded curtly.

Jen's heart sunk even deeper at his reply but she wasn't going to react. "I...I just wondered when...I, ah...I made Cornish hens for dinner, honey; I wondered when you'll be home."

"Good question, I don't know, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week; I'm not sure."

"Oh, honey, please come home. I'm sorry, I know I hurt you. Please let me make it up to you, please."

"Make it up to me? And just how are you going to do that, Jen? How are you going to erase the doubts and suspicions that I've been wrestling with all weekend? I've tried coming up with every possibility I can think of for why you can't tell me where you were and it always comes back to one thing...you were with another man. It's the only thing that makes sense, Jen; it's the ONLY thing!"

"Oh, my darling please, please trust me. What I did had been a fantasy of mine since I was a young girl. It was something I had to do. I just can't tell you what it was. Please darling, please come home. I WILL make it up to you, honest. I'll do whatever it takes, honey...please."

He heard her break down and start to cry. He still had no proof she was with someone and hearing her sob was tugging at his heart strings but he was determined to give her some of her own medicine.

"I might be home tomorrow after work," he stated emphatically.

"Honey, won't you please come home now, please?"

"No."

"Okay," she mumbled between sobs. "May I ask where you are?"

"No. If I don't need to know where you were, you don't need to know where I am...or who I'm with."

Jen didn't think she could feel any worse but hearing Ken say those last four words almost caused her to throw-up. She fought to keep it from happening and had to swallow before she could speak again.

"Ken, ar...are you with a woman? Oh, honey, please don't do this."

"I didn't say I was with a woman but if I can't ask questions neither can you."

"Ken, that's not fair; you agreed. You agreed not to ask questions, you said I could go. Please, please come home and let's forget all about the weekend."

"Jen, listen to me. I went through absolute hell wondering if you were in the arms of another man. I can't ever remember being so angry or so hurt in my life. It's going to take a hell-of-a-long time before I forget it. In the meantime, I don't want you trying to make up for it. I don't want you sleeping with me; I don't even want you around me anymore than necessary. That's why I locked the bedroom door. Until I say different you can sleep in the guest room."

Ken could hear Jennifer crying as he disconnected. He was still conflicted with emotions. Why did she have to pull a stunt like this, he asked himself, it was so unlike her. Could her weekend really have been about something innocent? He was going to feel like a real heel if that turned out to be the case.

It was that thought that kept him up for the fifth night in a row.

***

"Alright I want the truth, damn it, what's the hell's going on between you and Jennifer?" Jack asked as he walked into Ken's office closing the door behind him.

Ken looked up from the paper work he'd been unconsciously staring at for the last half-hour.

Jack walked over and sat in one of the chairs across the desk from his friend and looked him in the eye.

"First I see an overnight bag in your trunk, a suit hanging up in your car, and then you play the worst game of golf I've ever seen you play. Not only did Tara beat you but I beat you and Smitty came with-in two strokes; something's drastically wrong, old buddy, and it's obviously not doing you any good to keep it bottled up inside so spill it."

As uncomfortable as he was, maybe Jack was right, maybe he needed to get it off his chest. "Jack, do you trust your wife?"

"Marge? Of course I do."

"What if she said she was going away for the weekend and she didn't want you to ask where she was going, what she'd be doing, or who she'd be with?"

"I'd know immediately where she was," Jack responded.

"You would; where?"

"Her brother's house, she knows I can't stand the bum," Jack said with a smile.

"Come on, Jack, this is serious, that's exactly what Jennifer hit me with the other night. She wanted my blessing to go away for the weekend but didn't want me to ask where she was going or what she'd be doing. She has a brother to but he's a great guy with a wife and kids; no, there's only one reason I can think of for all the secrecy, she was with another man."

"Oh, Ken, no way; there's no way Jen would cheat on you, come on, you know better than that."

"Do I? Okay then, tell me, what else could it be? Can you think of another reason why she'd go away like that, because I sure as hell can't?"

"Did she say anything; give you any clues whatsoever?"

"All she'd say was that it was something she had to do. It was supposed to be about some fantasy from her childhood."

"And that sounds like she was with another man to you? How many little girls do you know who have a fantasy about screwing some guy? It's probably something embarrassing and she just doesn't want to tell you, that's all."

Ken looked down in thought but spoke almost immediately. "I can't believe something from her childhood would be so important that she'd go ahead and do it knowing how much it would hurt me."

"Okay," Jack said, "if she was going to be with a guy why wouldn't she just lie and tell you she had to go visit a sick friend or something? I mean, if you're going to cheat on your spouse wouldn't it be better to avoid suspicion and make up some excuse for going away?"

Ken had to admit, Jack was making sense. He'd thought of that himself and couldn't figure out why she wouldn't just come up with a good lie.

Jack continued, "Look, my friend, we've all known each other for many years. Your wife and mine are the best of friends. If Jen was cheating on you Marge would know it, there's not a doubt in my mind about that, just like there's no doubt that Marge could never keep it from me; and as far as I know, Jen has never even looked at another man? No, whatever she's up to, I'm sure it's not adultery."

"I don't know," said Ken still with some skepticism in his voice. "Maybe you're right, I sure hope so because if I ever find out she was fucking some other guy it would be curtains for our marriage."

"Come on, man, Jen loves you to death. I'm telling you, there's no way Jen was out fucking around, she wouldn't do that to you."

Jack stood and started to leave; as he grabbed the doorknob he looked at Ken once more. "Go home, man. Go home and make love to your pretty wife. Forget all about the weekend. Whatever she did she's simply too embarrassed to tell you about it, that's all...oh, I meant to tell you; our fourth man said she had fun and hopes we'll call her again to play with us. What do you think?"

"Yeah, sure, she'll probably change her mind when I whip her ass the next time though. I played lousy yesterday, but there's no way she can beat my regular game," Ken said with knowing smile.

"Okay, my friend, I'm going to hold you to that; see you later." He hesitated just before walking out. "You know some women are into that."

"Into what?"

"Whipping their ass," he said with a chuckle.

As the day dragged on, Jack's words kept playing over and over in Ken's mind. He loved his wife. He wanted to believe it was just as his friend said, she was simply too embarrassed over something to tell him about it.

***

The screen door hissed as it closed behind him. Ken put his briefcase down then climbed the stairs to change out of his suit and into some comfortable clothes. He hadn't seen nor heard his wife until he came back down into the living room. She was sitting on the couch. Tracks from her tears where very prominently displayed down her cheeks. She had a wet, dirty tissue rolled up in her fingers and her hands shook despite resting in her lap. Her voice was weak and hoarse from sobbing.

"Don't..." she sniffled while still looking down. "Don't you love me anymore?" she asked in fear of his answer.

"Jen, if I didn't love you anymore your clothes would be in the front lawn instead of the other bedroom."

She finally looked at him and for the first time he could see how red and puffy her eyes were. "I'm...I'm so sorry, honey," she cried, "I'm so sorry I hurt you like I did. I...I didn't realize...I mean, I...I didn't know...oh honey, please forgive me," she begged before bringing the dirty hankie up to her nose and starting to cry again.

"Jennifer, as long as you..."

She anticipated his statement. In her anxiety she didn't even let him finish. "Oh Ken, please...I...it had nothing to do with sleeping with another man," she blurted out, "nothing, honey; please believe me, I did not screw anyone."

Her emotional declaration took him by surprise. "Then WHY? Why would you put me through hell all weekend like that? Damn it, Jen, I don't get it; why didn't you tell me that before you left? You had to know what I was thinking. Do you know the kind of pain I went through picturing you in the arms of another man? Why would you leave letting me think that if it wasn't true? Hell, Jen, how am I even supposed to believe you now...after the fact?

"Oh, honey...please, I'm telling you the truth," she cried! "Honest, Ken, you have to believe me."

Ken stood and stared at his wife while her words soaked in. She sure sounded sincere. "Jen, I just don't know..."

"Honey, please believe me. I didn't say anything before I left because I didn't want you asking a lot of questions and I thought the best way to avoid that was to simply not say anything at all. To tell you the truth it wasn't nearly as exciting as I thought it would be; the fantasy was much better than the reality, but it was something I had to do, something..."

"Yeah, I know," Ken said snidely cutting her off, "something you've wanted to do since you were a little girl; you told me. That's one of the things that hurts so bad, Jen, you excluded me from something that was important to you. We've been an integral part of one another's lives for the last eight years. I've always included you in my life and it hurt to think that you didn't feel the same way. Then I wondered if this just the first step? What else would you exclude me from?"

"I know," she sobbed. "I...so sorry, honey; I didn't think about it like that. It was thoughtless of me. I...I had no idea this would hurt you so badly."