Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill

Have you ever noticed that you can take a fool proof plan, toss a woman into the mix, and all bets are off? I guess all men should expect it when they get married. My plan was brilliant in its simplicity. My problem turned out to be complex. It involved predicting what my wife of 22 years would do.

The economy was circling the bowl and sinking fast. My wife, Caroline, had somehow managed to maintain her position as manager of the local branch of a large food chain. I never considered her overly bright, but she had somehow managed to pull the wool over the corporate eyes of Food King, the largest chain on the East coast. While people all around were losing their jobs, or at least having their hours cut, Caroline had somehow cajoled a couple of raises from her superiors.

Of course, I was more than a little suspicious. How could a woman be so successful in such a demanding and difficult position? You guessed it. It must have been her good looks and still smoking hot body. I sure didn't marry any dog! Caroline was a lovely woman in her mid forties. Her tits were bigger than ever, still full and firm and her ass was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. We never actually discussed it, but I suspected that she used her charms to climb the corporate ladder. There could be no other explanation. I had read enough on the internet to know how married women got ahead in the work place!

I had my own business. Years ago, I had realized that I didn't want to work for some asshole, making him money off my sweat and considerable skill. For that very reason, I had started my own company. I was having a tough stretch with the business at the time because of the recession, which I feel strongly is a depression that the government is trying to soft pedal. When things get tight, fewer people are inclined to buy hand crafted outdoor benches carved from large trees with a chainsaw. It was one of those luxuries consumers chose to forego, as much as they admired my skills with a power tool that so many feared to even pick up.

That's how I came to have twenty nine fucking beautiful, but unsold, benches stockpiled in my back yard. I was sitting on one, polishing it up a little with my ass while working on a cold brew. Then I heard a commercial on the radio that caught my attention.

Jessica Simpson was going to be appearing in concert next month at Bethel Woods, the site of Woodstock forty years ago! That was only an hour away from our home. The very thought of seeing her perform her greatest hits made my heart race. I popped open another beer and considered how to proceed. Caroline had me on a short leash since I hadn't sold a bench since the fall of 2007. I was allowed two hundred dollars a week spending money, and that included the materials and fuel I used for my business.

Fortunately, we lived on her family farm and I had a couple hundred acres of forest from which to select the best materials for my benches. We also had a gasoline storage fuel tank on the property that Caroline kept filled, so I was able to avoid that expense. Still, I had to purchase a few new cutting chains and bar oil now and then. I tried to keep the old chains sharpened as long as I could so I didn't cut too much into my golf, bowling, and beer money in any given week.

Caroline wasn't nearly as big a fan of Jessica's talents as I was, so I worried that she would put the brakes on my going to the concert! It was even less likely that she would buy the tickets with her money. I had heard her argument so many times, I knew it by heart.

"Bill, you already get $200 per week. You should be able to save enough to purchase your own incidentals," she would admonish me whenever I hit her up for some extra cash.

I calculated that tickets for good seats for Caroline, me, my brother, his wife, and my sister and her boyfriend would cost around two hundred and fifty bucks. Even if I did manage to save enough money to pay for them, Caroline would probably try to talk me out of going. Besides, in order to save that much dinero, I'd have to cut back on golf to just a couple times a week for the next two months. That idea did not appeal to me. I had an image to consider, as well as my manly pride. Scrimping on my golf would not impress by buddies at the club.

Then I thought of the money Caroline puts aside for her stupid charities! She always donated money to the local women's shelter, as well as our town's food pantry. She absolutely refused to consider my suggestion to send a little something to the NRA.

Caroline had a box concealed in her closet where she stashed her left over cash. She put five and ten dollar bills in it more often than I put my extra nickels and quarters in a jar on my nightstand. Once I accumulated enough change to purchase a six pack, I scooped it out and headed for town. Caroline, on the other hand, would donate seven or eight hundred dollars a couple times a year to her favorite charities! It made no sense, but I had learned over the years that married men have to accept certain quirks in their wife. Certainly Caroline always gave me all her love and never held back in the bedroom, so why even try to teach her how to be more frugal?

She probably had no idea exactly how much money was in her stash, so she'd never miss a few hundred bucks. I went to her closet, counted out three hundred dollars, and drove to the closest ticket outlet. The tickets cost just over two hundred and fifty dollars. After getting the tickets, I saw a great deal on a new pair of bowling shoes and a dozen golf balls, so I had just three dollars and change left when I returned home. Going to our bedroom, I tossed the change in my jar and put the three ones back in Caroline's charity fund.

Then I fired up the computer to compose the letter I had in mind. It took a while to find where Word was located since I normally only used the computer to surf the web for porn. Eventually, I had a very professional letter printed. As I read it over, I knew Caroline would never doubt its authenticity. It even looked real to me, and I wrote the damn thing!

My plan was simple. The letter informed Caroline that she had won a promotion from a local restaurant we frequent. The prize was six tickets to Jessica Simpson's concert at Bethel Woods! I included the tickets in the mailing, so Caroline would be convinced, and we could start making plans to watch Jessica Simpson strut her stuff. All I had to do was wait for Caroline to give me the great news that she had won the tickets. Then I would call my brother and sister and make our plans.

A week passed and Caroline never mentioned the tickets. I began to worry about the dependability of the US postal system. I carefully quizzed Caroline to see if her mailing address at work was still the same. I had mailed the tickets there since I pick our mail up at the mailbox every day. I feared it would look suspicious if I showed up with the letter at home.

By the middle of the next week, I was wound tighter than a piano wire. What was going on? Gradually a scenario took shape in my mind. Caroline was not going to mention the tickets to me. She was probably going to make up some story that she had to be away that night. Then she would take people from her work to the concert. That probably included her district supervisor. Then I wondered if he managed to get into Caroline's panties already. I decided to keep closer tabs on Caroline and either put my worries to rest or catch her in the act.

I sat parked near her work for a few days, watching her car as well as the building in which she worked. The surveillance thing was cutting into my time on the links, so I made the decision to switch to a few random checks on Caroline's activities. While watching her car those few days, a deep sadness began to fill my heart. I had never loved anyone but Caroline. I had never been unfaithful, or even close. She was a great mother to our two daughters, an incredible lover, a wonderful friend, and the best company a man could ever hope to have.

I debated whether I could pretend nothing was wrong so I could keep her in my life, hoping she would eventually terminate her affair. As much as I dreaded losing her, I came to the conclusion that it just wasn't in me to share her with any man. I couldn't live like that. Knowing that once I got the goods on her, we would get divorced, caused me great pain.

Then one Friday, it all began to take shape. Caroline left a message on our answering machine that she had to attend a meeting evening after work and that she would not be home until late. This was the Friday before Jessica Simpson's concert. I found myself parked where I could watch Caroline's car that afternoon.

Just after five she came out and drove toward the Casey Highway. I followed several car lengths behind. My heart was pounding when I saw her pull into the Radisson Hotel's parking lot in Scranton. As Caroline walked to the entrance I noticed that she had changed from the clothes she had worn to work that morning. This was not looking good.

As luck would have it, it took me a few minutes to locate an empty parking spot. By the time I got inside the old hotel, Caroline was nowhere in sight. I decided to sit at the end of the bar so I could watch the lobby. I don't know how long I waited but I do know that I had four beers. I was feeling more and more rage, as well as despair. What was Caroline doing? Was this the end of what I had thought had been a great marriage?

I had noticed an attractive blonde woman sitting by herself at a table and began to consider approaching her. What the hell. Sauce for the gander and all that. But I knew I was just dreaming. Shit, I had no idea how to approach any woman other than Caroline. I hadn't even tried since our first date. At that moment Caroline strolled into the bar with that prick, Bob Davis, her district manager!

I knew just how I was going to approach that bastard. I practically leapt off the bar stool and marched toward the loving couple. I was still ten feet away when Caroline first saw me. I grinned a little to myself when I saw her fear. She must have realized that she and her lover were in for a shit-storm unlike any she had ever witnessed.

To my surprise, she quickly turned and walked right toward me, meeting me half way.

"Bill! Do not say anything. Turn around, walk with me to the bar, and sit down with me!" Caroline hissed in a very low, but stongly demanding voice.

Somehow my resolve weakened. I had only heard Caroline use that tone a couple times since we had been married, but I had been trained to respond to it. I turned and walked with her to the bar.

"You will be civil to Bob. In fact, you'll be more than civil. You'll be cordial to both Bob and his wife, Amanda. You and I will talk later. Can you do this for me"? she demanded.

I knew I was lost. My instinct for self preservation kicked in and I just nodded numbly in response. Then I felt a hand on my back and Bob Davis was standing next to me, chatting like he was my asshole buddy!

"Hey, Bill! Caroline never mentioned that you would be here," admitted Bill. "I could have had you and Amanda entertain each other while Caroline and I were in our meeting,"

Bob proceeded to introduce me to his wife. She was the attractive blonde I had noticed previously. We sat and made small talk for another hour or so. Then Bob told us that he and Amanda had an early day coming up so they retired to their room.

"Thank you so much for being a gentleman!" praised Caroline as soon as Bob and Amanda were out of hearing. "I saw that look on your face and knew Bob was in for an ass kicking if I didn't do something to prevent it. It really was just a business meeting, Bill. There were half a dozen managers there. You have no reason to be upset."

"How about the Jessica Simpson tickets you won? Did something that cool just slip your mind, Caroline?" I asked. "When were you going to tell me, or weren't you planning on telling me at all? Maybe Bob Davis isn't your lover, but I'll find out who is. You can bet on that!"

To my surprise, Caroline just smiled at me. That fueled my anger and I had to draw a couple deep breaths to prevent a total meltdown.

"You silly man! You're all the lover I have ever needed, or wanted. There is no one else. It was obvious to me that those tickets weren't a prize, Bill. Taco Bell never has promotions like that. You should learn to use spell check, too. I knew you wrote that letter as soon as I opened it," smiled Caroline.

"Then why didn't you tell me about them so we could make plans, Caroline? You had to know I was expecting you to be all excited and eager to tell me about the tickets," I reasoned.

"I was just a little put off that you had taken two hundred and ninety-seven dollars out of my charity stash, Bill. I thought it would be a good punishment for taking the money without consulting me, and also for making your feeble attempt to trick me," admitted Caroline.

"Then where are the tickets, and are we going next Friday? I have to see if my brother and sister can make it on short notice. You still have them, don't you?" I asked.

"I recycled the letter you sent to me and sent it to your brother Dave. He has had the tickets for a couple weeks now," responded Caroline.

"Didn't you worry that he would realize it was a ruse, just as you did?" I questioned. "Do you think he'll be fooled?"

"We're talking about your brother here, Bill. He swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. He's already invited his wife's sister and her husband, and your sister and her boyfriend to go with him to see Jessica Simpson. He's telling everyone that Taco Bell is the best damn restaurant on the planet," chuckled Caroline.

"Son of a bitch! Dave didn't invite us? Now we'll miss the show of the year. Why did you give the tickets away?" I whined.

"You'll like this, Bill," grinned Caroline. "That was what the meeting was about tonight. Our company is one of the sponsors for Jessica Simpson's tour. Next Saturday night, all the area managers and their significant others will be front row at the Wachovia Arena in Wilkes Barre for Jessica Simpson's concert. You'll be so close you'll have to be careful she doesn't smack you in the face with those big tits when she bends over to take a bow! Afterward, we'll all be having a late dinner with her in a nice local hotel. The company is footing the bill for the show, dinner, and a room for the night!"

"Wow! My stupid brother will be so jealous when he hears about this." Then in a more serious tone I asked, "You swear you don't have any lovers? Am I really enough for you?"

"Darling, even after all these years, I am amazed that your vision has never cleared up. It's almost like you have a permanent set of beer goggles when it comes to looking at me. Men don't chase me, Sweetheart. I'm plain looking, at best. I've gained twenty pounds in the last ten years and have finally graduated from an A cup to a B cup. My ass is a mile wide and I'm getting wrinkles. The amazing thing is that I know you actually believe men constantly lust after me. I could never betray such a loving, but visually challenged man," laughed Caroline.

"Bullshit!" I replied. "You're always trying to convince me you aren't beautiful, but I'm not falling for it, and I'm certainly not letting my guard down, ever. Your parents are responsible for this low self esteem. They always wanted you to think your two sisters were better looking. Believe me, they are no super models!"

"Actually, Beth was for a few years. Linda still does some swimsuit modeling as well. My parents were just being truthful when they told me not to rely on my looks or I would be disappointed," recalled Caroline.

"What the hell do they know? They aren't exactly rocket scientists or brain surgeons," I shot back.

"Well, Mom did work as an engineer for NASA on the Apollo missions, and Dad's a cardiologist," Caroline reminded me.

"Well, big deal. No one has ever called me a matinee idol. Your folks were just prejudiced against me and didn't want their beautiful daughter going out with a loser like me. They never liked me," I told Caroline.

"Actually, to this day, my friends are envious of me because of the hunk husband I have. Several of them have told me you look like a more rugged George Clooney. My parents thought you were after their money when you first started dating me. They couldn't believe there could be any other reason a dreamboat, as Mom referred to you at the time, would want to date a plain, flat-chested, big assed girl like me. Now that you gave them two beautiful granddaughters, take Dad golfing every week, and remodeled Mom's kitchen for her, they think you're the cat's pajamas."

"Caroline, I know that your family and some of your friends think I'm lazy and undependable. You can't deny that," I stated firmly, hoping Caroline would once again prove me wrong.

"I suppose some of them might, since they never saw what you do for me, my parents, and our girls. You went to every sporting event and nearly all practices the kids ever had. You taught them softball, basketball, and even ran with them when they trained for cross country. You helped them with homework and always made sure that they traveled in the right company and were home before midnight. Both, Sarah and Brandi told me that their friends thought you were the sexiest and best father any girl could ever have. More than a few of their friends had crushes on you, but you never noticed. You still take time to help at the Veterans Hospital and coach Little League. I'd say you were a pretty damn good catch and I don't know of anyone that disagrees," finished Caroline.

"I'm left wondering how you manage to get raises and have advanced so well in your company,' I slowly admitted. "You must use at least some of your sex appeal to do so well at your job."

"Bill, I have an MBA and am actually over qualified for my position. I don't need to use any of my nonexistent sex appeal, and it's a damn good thing. I'm good at my job and I enjoy it."

"I suppose that could do it, but I do know that all my buddies think I have the best wife in the world. They seem to think you're pretty hot. They're always telling me how lucky I am, and make no secret about their envy for me," I concluded.

"Do you think that being able to golf whenever you want, bowling two nights a week, and having that huge projection screen TV with the dish satellite so you get every pro and college football game might have something to do with that, Bill?" asked Caroline. "Maybe when I bring you and your buddies pizza and beer during the game they think I'm a pretty understanding wife."

"I admit that all helps. How come you do that? None of the other guys have a wife so hospitable to her husband's guests," I wondered.

"Several reasons, Bill. You take good care of me. You make all my friends jealous with your good looks and hard body. I wasn't blessed with those attributes, but I know how to please men in general, and my man in particular. I don't ever want you looking elsewhere for love, and I want your buddies to tell their wives what a wonderful woman you married. It's sort of a revenge for all the times more attractive girls and women had a few laughs at my expense. I'm the one laughing now and I want to keep it that way. They may have bigger tits or better legs or a smaller ass, but I have the best husband in the country and I'm going to keep him happy. Let's get a room here for the night and I'll show you what I mean," laughed Caroline as she arched her eyebrows up and down several times.

"Good idea, Sweetheart! Let's get you naked and check out those B cup beauties and that wonderful ass!" I readily agreed before turning pensive. "I've decided that tomorrow I'm going to begin expanding my production line to include those cool silhouettes of bears and dogs and deer. I'll use the money I make on them to repay your charity fund."