A Lucky Guy

A Lucky Guy? Maybe yes, maybe no. You make the call.

"So, did you have a good time Friday night?" Those were the first words my wife, Laura, spoke as I walked through the door to my home on Monday evening. By the sarcastic tone in her voice and the fire in her eyes, I figured 'the cat was out of the bag' as they say. My only recourse was to tell the truth, put up with her getting a little pissy and then move on. What I never expected was that it would possibly end my six- year marriage.

Kenny Frankson was a friend of mine from work and although we weren't best friends we got along very well and he and his fiancé Beverly, had been to our house on several occasions. Friday had been Kenny's bachelor party and it was held at the Finetime Pub which was owned by Sean Fenton a life- long friend of Kenny. Ken was a gregarious, popular guy and until he met Bev, was quite the lady's man.

There were about twenty guys in attendance including my best friend, Mickey, whom I had known since elementary school. The party had been in progress for over an hour and there had been a lot of back slapping, toasts and teasing of the groom At one point there was a loud banging from the front table where Kenny was sitting. Nick Castanos, Kenny's, soon to be, best man was trying to get everyone's attention, probably, I thought, to embarrass his friend with another sordid tale of yesteryear.

When the noise finally subsided he held up a glass and, in a booming voice, said:

"A toast to the soon to be groom and congratulations on his capturing the beautiful and sexy Beverly."

After everyone had voiced their approvals, Nick remained standing on the chair holding up his hands in an attempt to silence the crowd once again. He had been talking through a wireless mike so he easily hushed the crowd of men who were in various stages of inebriation.

With a conspiratorial smirk he continued, while looking down at Kenny:

"My fiend my advice to you is enjoy your honeymoon to the fullest because as most of us married men know, after those passionate and torrid two weeks, wives have a spiritual awakening."

He paused for effect and then continued:

"They become nuns!" None of this, None of that. I'm your wife not some bimbo. If you expected me to do that you should have married one of the sluts you used to date. Then one day you discover that your vintage collection of 'Playboy magazines' is missing and you can no longer access the "playboy" channel on your TV. "

Remember when she dragged your reluctant ass to the mall and you'd get caught glancing at a voluptuous young thing and she'd say, "isn't that a cute outfit?" Of course. you were thinking, "what outfit?" Well Kenny, my boy, those days are over. Now, if you happen to get caught casting an admiring glance at a sexy broad showing cleavage and wearing CFM pumps you'll hear quite a different tune. More like: "how could she wear something like that in public or she looks like a hooker." Then to show you how a proper wife should dress she will spend an extra couple of hundred buying clothes that would look much more appropriate on your mother. There are two phrases that every married man must learn if he ever wants to get laid again. It is the married man's mantra and you should start practicing them now. "No Dear and Yes Dear,"

There was a lot of laughter and more than a few hoots from the crowd. But, Nick held up his hands again and putting the mike to his lips said:

"So/ to celebrate Kenny's last days of freedom I have arranged to have Miss Fatima perform for us. Believe me when I tell you, she is the girl who put 'belly' in belly dancing."

Nick jumped off of the chair and reaching behind the bar he hit a switch that turned on the sound system which immediately began pumping out loud middle eastern music and with a flourish and a hand gesture toward the closed door next to the bar, he proclaimed:

"And here from her recent Las Vegas tour, I present you the voluptuous, Fatima."

With castanets clicking and a swirling flourish, a woman in a blue and gold, 'I Dream of Jeanie' outfit appeared and began gyrating her hips to the music. As the hoots, hollers and whistles were dying down, Nick was walking around with a tray, distributing shots of tequila.

Even in the low lighting it wasn't long before it became obvious that the closest this woman ever came to Damascus was Damascus, Ohio. She was no more of a belly dancer than the Pope was Jewish, unless belly dancers completely exposed their breasts within the first three minutes of the show.

The shooters kept coming and the music morphed into a genre more usually associated with strip joints.

Even in the low light and with all the make up she was wearing, Fatima, was at least thirty- five.

and looked a lot better with her costume on rather than off, which it now was. She swirled, twirled and gyrated around the tables sitting on the occasional lap and slapping her ample, but saggy, boobs against some guys faces. I'm sure she would have gladly removed her thong but that was the only place that could secure the occasional bill that was proffered by her scant admirers

I'm not a prude but I am married and even if this woman was as hot as a pistol I would have felt uncomfortable in this situation. I was planning an exit strategy when 'Miss Fatima' swirled onto my lap and pulled my face between her tits. I didn't try to touch her tits or hold her by her ample hips, my hands were by my side and I was thankful that she disappeared from my lap as quickly as she had arrived. She moved on to a few more appreciative laps before the music faded into silence as she seductively twirled her way back behind the door.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Nick follow her through the door, presumably to pay her for the entertainment. It wasn't till I saw a smirking Nick come back out and grab the mike that I got my first inkling that things might escalate. He guided an extremely drunk Kenny out of his chair and announced:

"Miss Fatima will be in the back to- - - - - - -"sign autographs", he said in his most lascivious voice. Our guest of honor's is free but everyone else needs twenty in cash."

I noticed that the crowd had already thinned as I made my way to the exit but there were several guys hanging out by the stage door awaiting their turn. As I pushed the door open I felt a clap my shoulder and laughing, my friend Mickey said:

"Not staying for the encore, Jack?

"Not if she paid me", l chuckled back.

We were parked in different directions so instead of a 'goodbye' he said:

"Hey, I'll give you a call next week. I'd like you and Laura to meet my new girlfriend,"

He winked and added: "This may just be the one."

Over my shoulder, I sarcastically replied: "Yeah, right, I think I've heard that before."

*******************************************

In retrospect. I realize I should have told Laura about the stripper but like they say: "hindsight is 20/20. Now as I faced a very pissed off wife my dilemma was, what did she know. Hopefully, just about the stripper and not the twenty dollar blow jobs. No sense pretending that I didn't know what she was talking about and making myself look even more guilty. I put my proverbial tail between my legs and in my most conciliatory voice, said"

"I'm sorry, Honey, I should have told you about the stripper but, honest to God, I had no idea that it was planned until she appeared. I don't think anyone did. It was a surprise that Nick had arranged for Kenny all on his own."

Her face showed rage but there were also tears running down her cheeks when she spat her next words:

"You fucking pig! How could you let some low-life slut suck your cock, much less pay for it."

I was so stunned and embarrassed that it took my breath away. All I was thinking is how am I going to convince her of the truth. Shit, I was trying to formulate my words but she abruptly turned away from me and all I managed to stammer, was:

"Laura, I swear to you, I didn't. I swear to God Laura, I didn't do anything."

That's all I got out before I heard the bedroom door slam shit. I didn't even try to get my toothbrush, I just slept in my underwear in the guest room that night.

The next day was Tuesday and I awoke to the sounds of Laura in the kitchen and the murmurings of our two daughters, Katlyn, two years and Carly, three and a half years old. I dreaded a confrontation and since my wife was preoccupied I took the opportunity to use the master bath, shower and change clothes.

When I entered the kitchen, Laura had her back to me and didn't bother to acknowledge my existence, so I talked to the kids for a while trying to ease the tension in the room. When she did finally turn in my direction there was a look of disgust and hatred on her face, but she said nothing.

I didn't know how I was going to do it but I knew this situation had to be resolved, so I called my office and took the day off. After drinking a cup of coffee, I went into the living room where Laura had put cartoons on the TV for the kids and was sitting reading a magazine. When I sat on the couch where she was sitting she got up and sat in a chair on the other side of the room.

"Listen Honey, I said pleadingly, we have to talk about this. You have the wrong - - - -"

"No, I don't have to talk about this and don't call me Honey, you pervert"

Without looking at me she got up and speaking over her shoulder, said coldly:

"Watch the girls. I'm going to take a shower.

As an afterthought, she turned again and spat:

"If it wasn't for the children, you'd be out of here - - - - - - , and you still may be when I get over my shock."

Not one word was spoken between us for the rest of the day and my embarrassment was now turning to frustration and anger. I was trying to look at it from my wife's perspective but not even allowing me to have my day in court was maddening. She had appointed herself, judge, jury and executioner.

*****************************

I guess most husbands think that their wife is the best looking girl around, but Laura actually was. She was the girl next door type, pretty face with well-proportioned features; not short at 5'6" perky breasts and long auburn hair, emerald green eyes with an ass and legs that could stop traffic. At 6'2", two hundred ten pounds, brown hair, blue eyes, an athletic build due to playing sports in high school and college, I consider myself pretty average in the looks department.

Laura put on a little weight when she was pregnant with Carly and had lost all but about ten pounds but was working hard to shed them. With two little girls to take care of she didn't have the luxury of spending her days at the gym but she had an exercise regimen that she religiously, adhered to at home.

The next day I called my friend Mickey and after some pleasantries I outlined my predicament.

Mickey was my closest friend, we went back to fifth grade when he and his family moved into town. In high school, we were in most classes together and played on some of the same teams. He had been the best man at our wedding and Laura liked him, despite his playboy reputation. We often socialized with Mickey and his latest heart-throb and he has been to our home on numerous occasions. Both of our daughters call him, Uncle Mick.

With no other avenue to peruse, I agreed when he suggested that he stop by that evening and bear testament to my innocence. Despite his reputation as a ladies man he was also known as a 'straight shooter'. He was a good-looking guy who didn't lie to his lady friends in an effort to seduce them into his bed. Laura knew and respected that so if I had any shot at redemption, Mickey was it.

Not wanting to blind side Laura, I mentioned to her that Mickey was going to stop by after dinner. She didn't object, just acted like she hadn't even heard me.

When, later that evening, I answered the door bell, I ushered Mickey into the kitchen where Laura was sipping her herbal tea and obviously prepared to hold court. She was sitting at the table with her arms crossed in front of her and a belligerent scowl on her face. He accepted the cup of coffee that I offered and sat down across from Laura and asked politely:

"How are you doing, Laura?" She replied with a non- committal shrug of her shoulders. Without further pleasantries, he went right to the heart of the matter:

"Jack has told me what's going on between you two and I'm here to set the record straight. Neither Jack or I knew that there was going to be a stripper at the party. As a matter of fact, no one did except the best man. It was his little surprise for Kenny. I'm not going to lie to you and say that she didn't come around to the tables and shake her boobs in guys faces, nor am I going to say that some of the men didn't get a quick feel. What I can swear to is that your husband never touched her."

He was stretching the truth here a bit, but he is a lawyer after all.

The other thing I can say unequivocally is that once we learned about the back- room activities both Jack and I left. Listen, Laura, I've know Jack a long time and besides the fact that he loves you, he is not the sort of man who would degrade himself by participating in any back-room debauchery, even if he was single. I think you know your husband well enough to realize that he would never do anything to jeopardize your love or endanger his family."

Laura had uncrossed her arms and her expression seemed to soften a little. I breathed a small sigh of relief, hoping that maybe we had put this fiasco behind us. She thanked him for stopping by and allowed him to give her a kiss on the cheek before he departed.

When the door closed she stood and turned towards me with a slight smile. However, the smile quickly turned to a sneer and in a dull monotone, said:

"One lies and the other swears to it."

Nothing Mickey had said meant anything to her and my frustration morphed into anger as I yelled:

Laura, what do you want from me? I have sworn on the lives of my children that I did not get a blow job. I did not fondle her tits. My only sin is that I was too embarrassed to get up in front of all those guys and walk out. I will take a polygraph if that's what it takes to convince you.

With the same cold expression and in the same dull monotone, she replied:

"Wow! Maybe you should run for President. Bill Clinton said almost the same thing to millions of people. The difference is that most of those assholes believed him but I don't believe you."

The next two weeks saw little thaw in our relationship. Conversations were stilted and mostly centered on or with the children. She made no overture to invite me back to our bed and frankly, thoughts of divorce started to cross my mind.

I was asleep one night in the guest room, about a week later, when I awoke to Laura slipping into bed next to me. I could feel immediately that she was naked because her tits were pushed against my arm as she slowly stroked my cock to life. After having no sex for almost three weeks, she didn't have to expend much effort before I was rock hard.

She threw her leg over my chest and quickly inched her way up to my mouth. The first thing I noticed as she placed her vagina over my lips was that she had shaved her pussy. I was delighted. I had suggested several times over the years that she do that but she had always refused. As my tongue explored this new sensation I was thinking that this may be her way of apologizing to me for the way she had been treating me and things would finally get back to normal.

After my mouth had brought her to at least two orgasms, she slid back down and impaled herself on my cock as she rode it for two more climates. As her final convulsion was ebbing I erupted inside her with more force than I could remember. She collapsed briefly on my chest, catching her breath, then rolled off me and went to sleep.

Aside from some groans and grunts not one word had been said and when I awoke in the morning she was gone. I got up to use the hallway bathroom and passing our bedroom I saw the door was ajar. When I peered in she Laura was asleep under the covers. I realized that I had been used as a human dildo. She had never said a word to me, never even kissed me and had not put my cock in her mouth, which was part of our usual foreplay.

The next night after we put the girls to sleep Laura surprised me by suggesting we watch a movie on TV. There was no interpersonal dialogue before or during the movie, just some comments about the actors and the weak plot. Laura sat close to me but did not snuggle as we often did. My one attempt to reach over and hold her hand was met with I can only describe as 'disinterested permission', there was no reciprocation. I felt like our marriage was in limbo and I was tiring of the situation.

After the movie was over she turned off the TV and casually stated:

"Oh, by the way, I washed the sheets that were on your bed but I did not get a chance to put them in the dryer so if you can sleep in my bed if you like."

Her use of the term "my bed" was not lost on me but like a little kid being offered a treat for good behavior I followed her to our room. That night was a carbon copy of the previous one, she had me eat her, she rode me and she went to sleep.

As I fell asleep I was thinking of the words to the Bachman-Turner Overdrive song:

"He said, any love is good love,

So I took what I could get

Yes, I took what I could get----"

But one thing I knew for sure, I wasn't going to just take her scraps for much longer. If Laura couldn't trust me, there wasn't much of a marriage. If it weren't for my baby's I'd be long gone.

The following Saturday we had committed to attend our friends tenth anniversary party, being held at the local American Legion hall. There were a lot of guests including some of our friends and neighbors along with a bunch of their relatives.

Laura had bought a strapless black cocktail dress and matching four- inch pumps for the occasion. The dress, although a bit out of character for her usual conservative attire, revealed enough cleavage and leg to be sexy but not slutty. She usually wore outfits that covered the small black and yellow butterfly tattoo on the back of her right shoulder. She had gotten on a whim one night while out with some girlfriends, long before we met. For some reason, she regretted having gotten it but I thought it was sexy.

Laura was almost down to her pre-baby weight and honestly, she looked hot. After the buffet dinner the DJ, who had provided light back ground music throughout the meal, cranked up the volume and couples slowly started to drift onto the dance floor.

I leaned over and asked my wife if she'd like to dance but she patted my knee and replied:

"Maybe in a little bit, I want to get another wine." At which she got up and went to the open bar, not even asking me if I would like something. I watched her at the bar and even though I was getting pissed, I couldn't help admiring her ass and her shapely legs that were accentuated by her high heels.

There was a guy standing next to her waiting to order and while they waited for their drinks I noticed that he had engaged her in conversation. Both of their drinks arrived simultaneously and I saw him lean into her ear so as to be heard over the music. She smiled, placed her wine on a high top table and with his arm on the small of her back, they headed onto the dance floor.

I wasn't about to sit at the table by myself like a whipped puppy dog so I went to the bar and ordered a double Jameson, neat. They were still dancing to "Proud Mary" and Laura was shaking her ass to the music. Although she was trying to be discrete I saw her glance to where I had been sitting and noticing I was not at the table, looked around to see if she could locate me. The next song was a slow one and they remained on the floor and he had hand his hand dangerously close to her ass. What pissed me off further is that it went unchallenged.