Dueling

Not a lot of sex in this one, and not a happy ending -- just to warn you. The thing in the story about cigarettes is based on an actual incident shared to me by a person working at a similar facility. Hope you enjoy.

*****

Many years ago, as an undergraduate, I took a stage fencing class an elective course. Some of my friends thought it was a bit of a step down from my kickboxing training, but there were lots of similarities between the two. In essence, both were like a subtle dance between two partners. The difference is that in a match, you're trying to anticipate what your opponent is doing and plan your steps to counter it. Whereas, in stage fencing, you are trying to remember or anticipate the move in order to compliment it -- while trying to make it look like you're trying to outdo the other.

I was reminded of the subtle dance of staging a fencing duel as I watched thirty-six-year Cassandra -- or Cassie as she preferred -- sitting beside twenty-something year-old Troy. Troy was a history and English teacher fresh out of university, and Cassie was the head English teacher at the same school. She was also my wife of seventeen years, and the mother of our eighteen year-old daughter, Antigone, who had recently started university in San Diego.

It was a Thursday night, and we were out for a retirement dinner of the school principal, Arnold West, whose wife's health problems prompted him cutting off what was supposed to be his final year short. Due to my wife, seemingly unnecessarily fussing about her attire for an informal dinner -- and in my opinion going a little too dressy in a nice sexy tightfitting blue dress -- we were the last to arrive. I couldn't complain too much, all five-foot-eight and a hundred twenty pounds of her looked amazing. Jogging every morning before class and working out three days a week pays off. Unfortunately because of our tardiness, the only two seats left were diagonal from each other.

One of the other teachers rose up to switch seats, planning on moving to the other side so we could side beside each other. However, before that happened, Cassie had already sat down beside Troy. I had to settle for sitting diagonally across from my wife.

I knew the two were colleagues and had to work close together for planning and resolving different issues, but there was something else there. The subtle duel between them, which I am sure no one else noticed and I doubt they had any clue about, was visible to me. Troy would casually make contact with Cassie; his arm brushing hers, or his hand touching her wrist. It looked innocent as two workplace friends sitting in close seating quarters when eating -- especially one left handed and right handed. However, it was the reaction and counter reaction that I found so interesting.

Troy brushed Cassie's arm. She immediately moved it slightly so they weren't touching. He moved it over so it touched her again. Cassie turned and gave him a subtle look, and moved her arm. He countered by grabbing his water, taking a sip, and setting it down, so his hand grazed hers. She responded by raising her eyebrows and subtly glancing at me. His hand moved to under the table. Later on during supper, there was the same glance at him, followed by Cassie slightly moving her chair over. Sitting down in that dress, I knew the hem would be quite high on her leg -- at least halfway between her knee and hip. Troy responded by a subtle look of his own.

It was at that point, I decided I was an observer long enough. Actually, even if it wasn't for that subtle dueling between them, I was definitely feeling like a third wheel since her and Troy basically had talked the whole time without more than two word sentences directed in my direction.

I reached and held Cassie's hand. She initially flinched, but then turned to me and smiled. I said in a flirty tone, "God, you look so beautiful tonight. I'm so glad I have no marking to do when we get home."

I was staring right into my wife's beautiful brown eyes, but I was really looking at Troy out of the corner of my eye. I saw what I expected at that point, but was really hoping not to see: a look of jealousy.

"Pete, thank you," Cassie said almost blushing, "But maybe this isn't the time to be discussing our marking habits."

At that point, Troy touched her bare shoulder, and she turned to him. "Cass, speaking of marking, do we have a plan for finals yet?" The hand remained on her shoulder for about two minutes, before she realized it probably was too familiar, and she reached, gave it a subtle squeeze and moved it under the table. She didn't look my way again, until the bill came, which I paid.

On the ride home, it was almost like Cassie forgot I was sitting across from her at the dinner. She recounted funny things Troy had said, or how good her fish was and asked if what I ate was any good. She was in such a good mood, that I don't think she noticed how withdrawn I felt. If that was a duel, I certainly lost the moment he touched her shoulder.

It was fairly late for us when we got home, so we went straight up to bed. Cassie went into the bathroom to remove her make-up, still in that dress, while I changed into boxers to sleep.

I was in bed when she returned. Cassie put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, "No marking tonight? Not really subtle were you? And in front of people I work with?"

"I guess they would find it shocking that we still have sex," I said sarcastically.

By the look on her face, I think she thought I was teasing. "No... but amorous enough to discuss it in public might be a little surprising. Not like we're teenagers anymore, though I think I'm horny enough tonight to fuck you like one -- you lucky boy."

It might come as a surprise, but watching a guy ten years younger try to paw my wife all night, and her reaction suggesting because I was there that it was all right, didn't exactly put me in the mood for sex. I was trying to keep my emotions in check as I processed everything, because I knew all I had were guesses. I did know that having sex with Cassie that night wasn't high on my priorities. However, when she peeled off the dress and climbed into bed wearing just thigh high stockings and garters, I caved.

I thought if she wants to fuck, then we'll fuck. After some mutual oral sex foreplay, Cassie and I usually start with missionary and then finish with her on top. Generally we go until both of us come -- and often at the same time. It was routine, but a routine perfected after lots of practice -- and neither of us ever seemed to be bored with it. Maybe it was my distracted thoughts, or trying to think whether she was any less tight than usual, but Cassie came before I did and was starting to get too tired to continue riding.

"You close?" she asked, "Sorry babe, I'm done. I can use my hand or my mouth..."

She climbed off me and I got up. Without a word, I held her up by her hips and moved behind her. "Pete? Okay, guess it's been a while."

We used to do doggy style a lot during our younger more experimental days, but had our roadmap to mutual orgasms and just stopped doing it. I grabbed her by the hips and, no other word for it, fucked her. I fucked her so hard, I couldn't tell if her grunts and moans were pleasure or discomfort -- and at that point didn't care. I came in her, but didn't stop fucking, continuing to slap against her.

Cassie began to squirm. "Oh god, Pete... fuck me... fuck me... Oh shit...fuuuuuck."

After her second orgasm, I pulled out of her and headed to the bathroom in the hall without a word, knowing she would go into the master bathroom.

I planned to just go to sleep when I returned but Cassie grabbed my hand, a signal for pillow talk. "Petey, that was intense, but kinda hurt at times."

"Did you like it?" I said.

"I guess, but we can't be doing that all the time. And I'm going to need give my lady parts some rest. Next time, please give me a heads up, okay?"

"Thought you wanted to fuck like teenagers?"

Cassie laughed. "You never did that to me when we were teenagers. It's okay, I didn't not like it, but next time clear it with me before you try that again -- going that rough into me."

I hate to admit it, but I doubt my forty-year-old body could thrust like that every night either. Like my wife, I kept myself in good shape by running, tai chi, and lifting weights, but that was using muscles I didn't use too often. I also felt a little guilty because while I fucked her like that, I got off knowing that I was causing her some pain. I never was much into the whole S&M thing, but rather than telling her I was upset and why I was upset, I took my frustrations out on her. That was a problem.

I'm surprised that I actually had a good sleep. Our morning pretty much was the new routine we had settled into now that we had an empty nest. No mention of any of the night before was said, though it still weighed heavily in my mind. I still gave her a smile and kiss before driving off to the college where I was a tenured English professor.

I actually met Cassie when we were both undergraduates. She was a freshman and I was a senior student volunteering to proofread new student's essays for the English Department. At one point, while we were sitting in the library, my hand was touching her arm while we discussed her coma splices. In the many years since, we've argued who was the first who initiated kissing, but she for sure was who asked to go back to my room. The sex was amazing, though we treated it like a one-night-stand. It was her first, though I didn't know that back then. I helped her a couple weeks later. It was really casual and I didn't see any indication that she wanted a repeat, so I didn't push it. I ran into her at a party that same weekend, and fueled up with liquid courage, went right up to her and kissed her while she was talking with another guy. We ended up fucking in the bathroom, and then went our separate ways, again. The next week when Cassie came for writing help, she definitely gave out vibes she wanted another sexual encounter. I asked her if we were just fuck-buddies or were we going to go out? She kissed me so hard, that a library worker gave us shit, and then told me it took long enough for me to get the hint.

Two months later, Cassie was pregnant and determined to finish her degree. Her parents hated me at first, couldn't blame them, but warmed up when they saw how dedicated I was to Cassie and Antigone. We both made sacrifices and got through university with our baby, and squeezed in a quick wedding along the way. Cassie went right into teaching, and I got a job on campus and went into grad school. The sex and our love for each other was the easiest thing about our relationship. It was the other stuff we constantly worked through, though I thought we still had a great marriage. Now, I was starting to doubt that.

At lunch, I ended up eating in a shared office with Ralph and Quinton, two of my fellow professors, who also were friends of both mine and Cassie for more than five years.

I explained what I saw in the restaurant, and what I thought it meant. As I was used to debating with English academics, I knew I had to provide explanations of why I didn't accept any other explanation other than something was going on between my wife and another man.

"Sorry, Pete," said Quinton, who is closer to my age and married for almost as long as I have, "This is what you need to do. Don't tip her off that you suspect anything. Get a lawyer and either set up cameras or hire a private investigator. Divorce courts tend to favor the wife unless there's concrete proof of cheating. You just need to be patient and get that proof."

"So just give up?" said Ralph, who is over sixty and had been divorced twice before.

"Sounds like she's given up on him," Quinton countered, "Ignoring him right in front of the other guy like that? The fact she didn't make an effort to even sit beside him said volumes. Besides, you're not exactly the expert of staying married."

"You're right," said Ralph, "I'm the expert of ending marriages. Sit back and wait for proof of her cheating; you might as well remove your ring now because you'll definitely be divorced."

"So, what?" I said shaking my head, "Do nothing and wait till I come home early and catch her fucking him in our bed?"

"I never said do nothing, because that's what his plan is." Ralph pointed at Quinton who stuck his tongue out at him. "Look, Pete, based on my expertise at dissolving marriages, answer me a couple of questions: before you witnessed this little hand play between them, were you happy with your marriage? How did you get along? Sex life? Communication?"

"Very happy, that's what's so upsetting about this."

Ralph nodded. "Okay, now if Cassie has strayed -- because we don't know anything for sure yet -- does it make a difference to you how much?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"In terms of your relationship with her -- and with Antigone that will always be there -- will it matter whether it was just a crush, and emotion affair, a onetime thing, or fucking behind your back for months?" Ralph shrugged. He normally wasn't the swearing type.

"I guess in remaining civil to each other, it does, but a line crossed is a line crossed," I tried to argue.

"Okay, so you were very happy in your marriage and don't even know if a line has been crossed yet." Ralph raised his finger. "So, if you wait for the proof, a line or lines would be crossed that could be stopped now. Believe me, as some who both has been cheated on and done the cheating, having the opportunity to stop things and doing nothing will eat you up as much as being betrayed. Shit, you and Cassie absolutely look smitten with each other every time I've been around you two. For all the good years of marriage you have together, you owed it to yourself to try and see if you can stop this. And you owe her the chance to stop this path. There's plenty of lines; think really hard what line is the difference between divorce or putting some serious effort and trying to get back to how happy you were two days ago."

"Hate to say it," Quinton said, "The old fart makes sense. Talk to her right away. Whatever this is, we're with you -- okay. Trish loves Cassie to death, but will treat her like she has the plague if she breaks your heart."

I got a pat on the shoulder by both men, before I returned to my office for my student appointment hours. Luckily, none showed up so I was able to stare at how slow the clock was going and decide what to do with my marriage. Ralph was right; I owed it to Cassie to at least give her a chance to say her side. Probably should have done it the night before right after the restaurant. I also thought of what Ralph said about lines: I was pretty sure her having sex with Troy was the line that would end it for me. I also strongly suspected that line had been already crossed.

Shortly before I left for home, I received a text from Cassie, who usually got home about an hour before me. "Hey babe, on your own tonight. Going to go for supper with the girls and maybe out for some drinks, karaoke after. Pick yourself up some fried chicken." My wife hated fried chicken, even the smell of it.

"No fucking way," I muttered as I typed my response. "No, we need to talk it's really important."

"It can wait. I shouldn't be too late," Cassie replied.

"No. It's REALLY important," I responded, "After we talk, then you can go out. I'll be home in fifteen minutes."

It was not uncommon for Cassie to have last minute girl's nights, working at a high school where she had a number of female friends. What was uncommon was how she was dressed. Her long dark hair was up and styled -- like she spent a lot of time on it -- her make-up was perfect and looked like she spent more than an hour on both. She was wearing her expensive perfume, an elegant black dress with bare legs and heels. It was something she'd wear to an important dinner with me -- a date.

Cassie looked a bit uncomfortable at how I was looking at her, and probably not looking happy. "Petey, what's wrong? Is someone sick? Died?"

I shook my head and sunk down in the couch, not even able to look her in the eye -- or scared to see her reaction when I asked the question. "Cassandra, I need to know how long has this thing with you and Troy been going on."

I couldn't see her face, but could imagine the surprise and her jaw dropped as she made guttural sounds, probably thinking of what excuses or lies to tell me.

When she wasn't coming up with an answer, I added, "For all the years of being a loving and faithful husband to you, I deserve to know the truth. I know it's him you're going to see tonight."

"Have you been snooping on my phone?" she said in a calm, not accusative voice.

I snorted, when I half-laughed. "No, just an observant man who after two decades knows his wife quite well -- or thought he did. Also one who'd rather not do the checking phones and following his wife around bullshit."

She still remained standing behind the couch. "Last night, you knew. That's why you said the 'no marking' time for sex comment."

"Close guess, but not quite," I said shaking my head, "I knew after making that comment. The way he looked at me and then touched your shoulder. Basically it said you're already his. Considering you left his hand there and didn't look back at me till it was time to go... Can you please just answer the question so we can get on with things? How long?"

"Pete, the truth," Cassie said solemnly as she walked around and sat beside me, "Over the past month, I guess I'd say Troy and I have gotten close. I haven't cheated on you, we haven't had sex, but... I know Troy likes me that way and probably wants to."

"Do you want to?" I said looking her in the eye.

The look on her face told me that question caught her off guard. "I really don't know what to say. I mean, I'm sure you run into really pretty students that you're sexually attracted to, but that doesn't mean you will have sex with them."

"Fine, were you going to have sex with him? I mean you're not exactly dressed for coffee." I crossed my hands in my lap. In my head, I was counting to keep calm.

"I... I don't know what I was going to do tonight. The truth." Cassie looked guilty with her head down. "I'm sorry, but that's the truth. I don't know what I was going to do."

"Were you going to leave me for him?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"No, no, never." Cassie insisted, "I love you, always loved you. I never wanted to leave you or lose you. I..."

"Well, guess that's our talk then. You can go," I said, getting up to head to the kitchen.

"You're fine with this? Me going out to dinner with Troy?" Cassie said getting up and standing close to the door.

I sighed. "Honestly, if I have to answer that question... You're an adult, I can't tell you what to do with your life. I think you know about consequences of decisions in a relationship."

I was looking away when I heard the door open and shut. I swore loudly and slammed the fridge door so hard, I heard a few bottles break. I swore even louder as I cleaned up the mess and fixed myself supper.

After I ate, I paced around the house debating what to do next. I was angry at her, plus I was angry with myself. She asked if it was fine to go on a date, I shouldn't have to say that it wasn't, but obviously I should have.

Cassie had been gone almost two hours when I decided that I wasn't going to wait around to find out whether or not she decided to fuck the scrawny pretty-boy. He was a little taller than her, but looked like he weighed even less -- at least Cassie had muscle tone in her shoulders. And that stupid beard and man-bun -- never in my life would I imagine my wife attracted to the point of considering cheating with a guy like that. I decided, I wasn't going to allow that to be my problem, and texted Ralph to see if he'd mind a roommate for the night.