Does Talk Lead to Action?

This is a continuation of Girl Talk and Guy Talk.

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Gail's story: Monday, June 18, 2018

"Gail, did you ever call that dreamy detective Friday?" That was Cheryl, my co-worker, with whom I'd had lunch at Alfalfa's on Friday, when those two police officers tried to pick us up. We couldn't get picked up, because we had to get back to work, but they both made sure that we had their numbers to call them, and Bill, the one who was hitting on me, asked me to call him after work. I didn't, even though he was definitely fantasy-inspiring.

"No, no way. Yeah, Bill was a real hunk, but I'm married, remember. And you're married, too!"

"Yeah, I know, and that's what made it so naughty. Stan was so freaking hot, you know, and he just looked like he'd be an awesome stud. I could just feel it, you know?"

"So, Cheryl, you called him?"

"Yeah, I know, I shouldn't have, but Danny was going to be working until eleven you know, and he's always so tired after second shift at the airport, and, well heck, I thought that maybe dinner couldn't hurt."

"Oh, my God, Cheryl, you didn't sleep with him, did you?"

"No, no, I managed to resist, though I don't know how. Part of it was that we spent too much time on dinner, and had a couple of drinks after that, and it was getting too close to the time Danny would get home, so I knew I couldn't. I didn't make it home until 10:45, so I only had 45 minutes to get everything looking like it should, get into bed and be 'sleeping' by 11:30. Danny always heads straight for bed after second shift, and I did everything I could to not have alcohol on my breath, but I still wanted to be sound asleep, so as not to get a kiss, you know?

"Anyway, nothing set off Danny's alarm bells, and I didn't have to kiss him until morning. I got up early, despite not really getting a lot of sleep, had to pee and brush my teeth again, and shower. By the time Danny woke up, I was a perfect little wifey again, in weekend clothes, and I even made Eggs Benedict for his breakfast."

"So, everything's OK, then?"

"Yeah, no harm, no foul. Heck, I even surprised Danny with some afternoon delight! We were laying out by the pool, I was laying on my stomach with my top undone, and then, when it was time to roll over, I gave him a smile and stayed topless while sunning my front."

"Cheryl, your pool isn't private like Linda's!"

"Well, it's mostly private, though the Simpsons could see us if they looked, but I didn't hear them in their back yard, and they usually go out on Saturday afternoons. Anyway, that got Danny all wound up, and he started molesting me right out by the pool. It was pretty good, too, but I'll admit it, I was fantasizing about Stan occasionally."

"Cheryl, you're going to get in some real trouble if you don't watch yourself."

"Well, what about you? You going to call, what was his name, Bill?"

"Oh, man, he's a nice fantasy, and of course I still have his number, but there's just no way I could cheat on Richard, no way!"

"Why? Even if Richard would never find out?"

"Look, Cheryl, guys are clueless, you know, but Richard isn't stupid. I could get away with a one-night stand, anybody can, but what if Bill turned out to be the super-stud he looks like, and I got hooked on him? I love Richard, we've got three kids, and there's just no way I could risk a divorce all for a one-nighter."

Lunchtime rolled around, and Cheryl suggested Alfalfa's again, but I vetoed that; no sense tempting fate and having Bill and Stan show up again. So, we went to Minglewood's, and good, no good-looking cops there! Cheryl said that I was a spoilsport, but Alfalfa's was way too close to the downtown police station.

It was 2:30, when Richard called. "Gail, looks like I've got to go to Cincinnati for a couple of days."

"Oh, that's too bad. What kind of horsey cases would you have up there?"

"A couple of farms and River Downs stuff. John and I both have to go. We're driving up Thursday morning, and we'll stay into Saturday. I've got to check the calendar, see if the Reds are playing, and if they're at home, we might catch a game Saturday."

"Well, hang on, there's a Reds' calendar right over here. Let's see, June 23rd, yup, the Cubs are in town, and it's an afternoon game, too, at 4:10. If you see that game, are you going to drive home Saturday night?"

"Let's see, three hours tops for the game, leave Cincy at 7, 7:30, and two hours back to Lexington, yeah that'd be safe enough. The ballpark is really close to the I-75 bridge into Kentucky anyway, something like four lanes wide, so it shouldn't be any problem getting out of town."

"OK, well maybe we can go out Wednesday night, so you can have a great meal before you leave."

"Gail, you're a great cook; I always get a great meal at home, you know."

"Oh, you stop! See you tonight when you get home. You going to get off on time?"

"I don't see why not. See you tonight. Love you, babe!"

"Love you too, Richard!"

Gulp! He had no way of knowing, of course, but my wonderful husband just set me up with 2½ days that I could spend with a good-looking, hard-bodied cop. I hadn't called Bill, didn't want to fuck up my marriage by calling him, but that meant laying in my big, king-sized bed, all by myself, looking at the ceiling, and maybe fantasizing about Bill taking advantage of me. 'Yes, officer, just throw me in the paddy wagon!'

This was stupid! Here it was, Friday morning, and just like I was afraid of, I'd spent last night, alone in bed, thinking about Bill. I wasn't even particularly horny, since I'd made love to Richard Wednesday night, but there it was, Thursday night, all alone, trying to read myself to sleep, and I just couldn't. I had picked a particularly boring book, on the reign of Queen Mary I, 'Bloody Mary,' and couldn't get into the book, yet as boring as it was, I couldn't get Bill out of my mind, and couldn't fall asleep. I hate to admit it, but I finally put my fingers where they'd do me the most good, and got myself off, trying to imagine Richard doing things to me, but with visions of Bill's hard body never far away from my mind's eye.

I hadn't called Bill, and though he made sure that I had his number, I never gave him mine. Stan probably told him that he and Cheryl had met again, but unless there was something Cheryl hadn't told me, they hadn't actually hooked up, at least not yet. And here I had this huge mass of spreadsheets I had to go over, for a client I had landed just because Equus was their attorney. A major horse farm, with tons of expenses, big earnings at the Keeneland sales, and it was a huge mess. They thought that they were making money, but I wasn't sure of that at all.

It was 11:30, half an hour until lunch, when Cheryl came by. "Hey, Gail, just letting you know, I'm leaving early today, leaving at two.

My alarm bells sounded immediately. "What, are you meeting up with Stan? Is Danny on the evening shift or something again?"

From her reddening face, I knew that I'd hit the nail on the head. "Danny leaves the house at around 2:15, to head for work, and I'll get home about 2:30."

"Please, please, Cheryl, tell me that you aren't going to screw Stan in your marriage bed!" I tried to keep my voice low, but there was still a lot of tension in it. "If Stan comes to your house, you have too many busybody neighbors who could see him."

"No, no, nothing at home, that'd be stupid." I kept my mouth shut about the fact that the whole thing was stupid. Her husband was a good guy, and as an air traffic controller he made decent money, probably more than a detective who apparently liked to hit on married women. Danny didn't deserve this!

"No, Stan's taking me out to this wonderful South American restaurant, and there's this good band he knows, playing at this club on North Limestone, but, same thing, I don't think we'll have time to actually go to bed. Danny'll still get home around 11:30."

"Girl, you are playing with fire! You haven't actually fucked him yet, and didn't tell me about it, have you?"

"No, not yet, but I can feel it coming. I think about him all the fucking time, Gail, all the time. God, I hope that he turns out to be a dud in bed, so I can end this, but I can't get the thought out of my head that he's really, really good, and I know that I'm going to have to try it out at least once. I know, I know, it's so damned stupid, but what else can I do?"

I wished that I had an answer for her. Actually, I did have an answer for her: don't do it, lose his phone number, and never see him again, but somehow I couldn't tell her that. This was a mistake Cheryl was going to make, on her own, and there was nothing that I could say that was going to talk her out of it.

Trouble was, I was having the same thoughts about Bill. I don't know, maybe I wasn't in as deep as she was, but yeah, Bill was on my mind, and here I had until Saturday evening, sometime around 9:00 or later, when I could meet with Stan, and Richard be none the wiser.

And fucking Linda had put the thought in my head: as long as I wasn't denying Richard anything, and he never found out about Stan, well what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him!

It was 3:45, and Cheryl as long gone. By now, I knew, she was getting dolled up for her date with Stan, and that kept popping into my head, along with daydreams of Stan. I had been making too-slow progress through the farm's messed up books, and even though I'd found two errors already, I thought that I'd really need to go back over my work, that I was being so feather-headed that I might have missed other stuff.

The phone was on my desk, in front of me. It was staring me down, tempting me to call Bill, practically daring me to call him.

Heck, it was more than easy! The kids always spent Friday night with my grandparents, just so Richard and I could have a night to ourselves, and I hadn't cancelled that arrangement with Richard being in Cincinnati. They knew to get on a different school bus on Fridays, to get to gramma and grandpa's house. I didn't have to arrange anything special, I didn't have to set up anything, I just had to pick up my phone and call Bill.

Richard would never know.

At least, not unless I told him, and I sure as shit wouldn't do that!

Bill had put his number in my phone, and I hadn't deleted it. I hadn't given him my number, but, who knows, maybe he saw and memorized it when he was putting his number in my phone. After all, he is a cop! Still, he hadn't tried to call me.

I set my phone on my desk, since Bill's number was in my cell anyway; it might not be the wiser thing to do to call his cell on the company land line. Of course, it's probably not the wiser thing to call him at all.

What was it about him? He's tall and good looking, and really well-built. But Richard is no slouch, reasonably fit even if not as well-put-together as Bill. Richard is decent-looking, and, since I'm just thinking about Bill for sex, I've got to admit that Richard is pretty decent in the sack himself. Yeah, Bill just looks like he could rock a woman in bed, but I don't know that, and the only way to really find out is to step over that line.

It would be stupid of me to call Bill! I mean, the chances that Richard would ever find out are small, but the only reason to fuck Bill is to see if he's as good in the sack as I think, and if he is that good, then once wouldn't be enough, and that means the odds of Richard finding out grow exponentially. Yeah, what Linda said, about men not really missing anything if their wives don't cut them off during an affair sounds true enough, but that's just girl talk; husbands don't understand that at all!

Damn it! The clock was moving incredibly slowly, and it was still only 3:53! I picked up the phone. Maybe God would save me, and Bill couldn't answer.

He answered.

"Bill, this is Gail. Take me someplace lawyers don't go."

So, we wound up at Roger's Restaurant, geared mostly to the horsey set, but that meant the people who worked in the horse industry, not the ultra-rich horse farm owners. There were people there in jeans and t-shirts as well as better clothes, cute girls along with guys who looked like they just got done pulling hay over to the barns. There were tough girls there, too, the kind that looked like they worked right along side of the guys on the farms. It was the perfect place to not run into a lawyer!

The food was great - I got the Kentucky Hot Brown - and got a Bloody Mary to go along with it. I had to nurse that drink, because it was still Happy Hour, and I didn't want two of them in me. Bill was looking hot, hot, hot, in very well fitting pants and a nice golf shirt, but one which looked like it might have been a bit too small for him, showing off just how well-muscled he was. His military/cop style haircut had another week's growth on it, just enough to make it really look sexy on him.

Me? I'd met Bill straight after work, so I was still in my office attire, a sleeveless blouse, one nicely cut for me, some office-appropriate blue slacks, and my black ballet flats. I thought that I looked sexy enough, without being in blatant club wear or anything. Really, I wasn't dressed any more or any less sexily than last Friday, when Bill and his buddy tried to puck up Cheryl and me.

My wedding set was still prominent on my left hand.

Bill was just so sexy! He knew just how to flirt, not so intense that it would put a woman off, would make her run for cover, but just enough to keep me interested, just enough to make me want more.

His right hand was across the table, gently stroking my left. That kept drawing my attention to my wedding ring, but my marriage was like in another dimension; what was happening was going to happen.

Suddenly, Bill pulled his hand away, his demeanor much cooler.

"Gail, just be cool. The guy who just walked in? His name is Joe Walsh, and he's a private investigator."

oo0oo

Jane's story: Saturday, June 23, 2018

"Oh, my God, Gail, what happened then?"

I couldn't believe it! John and Ringo, our husbands, were up in Cincinnati, and Gail had come over to my house this morning. Our kids were playing in the living room, while we gabbed in the kitchen. The guys were planning on taking in a Reds game this afternoon, but the weather looked iffy, and the game might be postponed, so they could be home in a few hours, or not until late this evening.

Gail had fessed up about meeting Bill, the police detective who had come on to her the previous week, while a co-worker and she had been having lunch at Alfalfa's. She'd resisted calling him for a week, while her friend had apparently been out with the other officer, and then finally gave in to her fantasies.

"Jane, it was awful! We were having a good time, you know, and he was just so fucking sexy, and I just knew where it was headed, when he recognized a private detective walking in the restaurant.

"Well, he stiffened up immediately, and our talk became, well I guess business cordial would be the best way to describe it. I mean, we still had half of our meals to go, and who knows who that private eye could have been spying on, but if we just up and left everything the way it was, it'd have called attention to us.

"Bill tried to keep an eye on the private eye, but he took a table kind of off to the side, out of Bill's view, you know, and it wasn't obvious who he was watching, or even if he was watching anyone in particular. I mean, I guess even private detectives have time off, don't they? But both Bill and I got really paranoid. He asked me if it was possible that Richard was having me followed, and I said that I didn't see how he could have thought anything, but I couldn't be sure."

"Could the P. I. have been tailing Bill instead of you?"

"He didn't say anything like that, and I thought, 'Does he have a wife he's cheating on?' but I never asked him and he didn't volunteer any information. I guess that I've just assumed he was single, but I really don't know; he could be married."

"That's kind of important information to have, Gail."

"Yeah, I guess it is. Anyway, we finished our meal, as deliberately as we could, no making eyes at each other, just completely correct, you know. I sure never had that second Bloody Mary! When we were done, Bill took me back to my car, and pulled out some sort of sensor, to see if there was a hidden GPS tracker on my car, but didn't find anything. He told me that those sensors don't always work, and then he checked under the hood and in the trunk, but didn't find anything unusual. My little Prius, he couldn't slide under it in that dirty parking lot to check underneath, but said that I ought to check it later, not that I'd know the first thing about what I was looking at, you know? I drove straight home, put the car in the garage, and haven't looked at it since.

"I did pull up our joint checking account and didn't see anything there that would give me a clue, no electronics stores, and no detective agencies, but if it was Richard, he could have used an account from the firm that I don't have access to, or maybe he even has a private account set up that I don't know anything about."

"Maybe it wasn't Ringo? After all, this was the first time you'd gone out with him, right? How could Richard have gotten suspicious?"

"Well, he could have looked in my phone and seen the new contact for Bill, but there's like a hundred people in my contact list, so that'd be hard to spot. And there were zero text messages between us, so he couldn't have found anything there."

"Well, who all knows about this detective and you?"

"That's just it, there's hardly anybody! Cheryl knew that he'd flirted with me, but she also knew I hadn't called him back, and I didn't call him until after she had left work on Friday, so she couldn't have known about that. I told us Beatle wives about him flirting with me, last Saturday, but I hadn't done anything at all wrong at that point, and I can't imagine any of you guys spilling the beans."

"Well, I certainly didn't, but who knows if maybe Linda or Joan said something to one of their husbands, and he said something to Ringo at work?"

"I wouldn't even know how to ask them! Of course, they're at home with their husbands now, since the Saturday golf game was cancelled, what with John and Richard being out of town, and I don't guess that we'll be getting together this weekend."

This thought was bothering me for the rest of the weekend. Ringo and John got home earlier than expected; with the off-again-on-again rain in the Cincinnati area, the guys decided to just skip the Reds game - and they didn't really want to, because after a shitty start, the Reds had been playing well recently - and drive back home. When John walked in the door, Gail knew that Ringo was home, too, so she called him, told him that she was over at our place, but that she and the kids would be right back home in just a few minutes. My guess was that Ringo was going to get laid not long after Gail got home.

And the idea of a quickie with John was pretty appealing, too! With the kids awake, quickies were pretty much all we could get other than late at night. The master bathroom provided some separation, but the kids could still hear us through the door, and Julian was old enough to understand just what his parents were doing if he heard it.

Of course, John put his bags on the bed, to unpack, but I just closed the doors, pushed his bags onto the floor, and threw him onto the bed. I wasn't usually the one who got things started, so it was a big surprise to him. He got wide eyes for a second or two, and then broke into a wonderful smile. I put my finger to my lips, and just made a shushing sound, before starting to unbuckle his belt.

Sex had become too routine for us. Over a dozen years of being married, plus having children, had pushed our sex life from exciting to comfortable. I had to be conscious of making noise, with the kids at home, but I was trying to remember the stuff we did back in college, before kids, before we were married, things to do with John that had been such a turn-on back then, but things that had been pushed off to the side in past years.