Entrapment

She took a sharp intake of breath and smiled and squeezed my hand. She told me that she was going to get ready for bed and she'd see me there. I could see that she was upset.

* * * * * *

Belinda

After the reunion planning party, I noticed a change in Dennis. He seemed to be argumentative and angry. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect two things. The first was that Dennis was hurt. For some reason, my husband had taken notice of the way I'd been treating him and his feelings were hurt. I think that he doubted that I loved him and he was lashing out in his anger.

The second thing that I suspected was that one of or both of those bitches that claimed to be my friend had said something to him to make him realize how badly I treated him.

It could, of course, have been someone else who'd said something to Dennis, but I really believed after our talk on Saturday that it had been either Della or Penny. The shitty thing about it was that I couldn't really figure out what to do until I found out who the rat was. If it was either Della or Penny, my ass was grass. There was simply nothing I could do to either of them, because if I pissed either one of them off, they'd simply tell Dennis that I had fucked Eric more than the one time he knew about. They might also tell him that I hadn't actually been drunk. My marriage would be over in less time than it would take for either one of those whores to drop their panties.

I concentrated on trying to rebuild things with Dennis. I started out by trying to do things with him, but more often than not he refused. He seemed to be spending a lot of time on the golf course. That was probably because I'd told him to go there on Saturday and he was throwing it in my face. He was also spending a lot of time with those Neanderthal friends of his. There was nothing I could say about that because he'd been friends with those two assholes forever. They'd played football with him all through high school and college. Maybe I should be trying to win them over instead of alienating them.

And Dennis just seemed to be going out of his way to start arguments with me. One of the things he did that really told me he was pissed at me was almost funny. Whenever I got angry at Dennis, I usually hit him below the belt. I pretended that I was too tired or not in the mood for sex. I could get anything I wanted out of Dennis after a week without sex.

But this time Dennis was trying to play my game against me. The night of the planning party, he came to bed and I waited for him to start rubbing his hands over me. He rolled over and pretended that he was going to sleep. After a half hour, I noticed that he really was asleep and that he'd rolled as far away from me as the bed would allow. I was surprised.

When he repeated it the next night, I realized that I might have a problem. The next day I wore the lowest cut blouse I had and made sure that my boobs were constantly in his face. It didn't change a thing. By the fourth night, I was really horny myself. I started to wonder what I could do other than just asking him for sex. A woman is not supposed to have to do that. I'd never had to do it before. Shit, until now, Dennis wanted to fuck me every night. I was the one who had to put the brakes on that shit. If I'd gone by his urges, I wouldn't be able to walk and my tits and neck would always have bruises and hickeys on them.

I'd been with a few guys before I met Dennis in college, but he'd really been the best of the bunch. Part of that was the fact that Dennis loved me so much that he was willing to do whatever it took to please me. He usually made sure I got off before he did. Even back in our college days, that set him apart from the rest of those knuckle dragging football assholes. Most of those bastards thought that they were God's gift to women.

They thought that running around in those tight assed little pants and catching a ball or knocking someone else down made them far superior to the rest of the human race. A couple of the guys on the team expected you to suck their dicks for an hour or so, but they refused to return the favor. They got the ugliest looks on faces when you hinted around about it. They got that whole, I'm not sticking my face down there attitude. I told one guy that we could sixty-nine and he offered a sixty eight.

"What's that?" I asked.

"You do me and I'll owe you one," he smirked.

Eric was the only time I had ever cheated on Dennis and it had been Dennis' fault. You see Dennis was a victim of his own success. The more he did for me, the more I thought I deserved and the worse I treated him. I started thinking that maybe there was someone out there who was better for me than Dennis. Eric was a big fucking mistake. First, because he treated me like a whore. But I guess I had that coming. He knew that I was married and he figured that a married woman who's out looking for sex IS a whore. It was also a mistake because Eric was awful in bed. His dick is slightly bigger than Dennis' but he just stuck it in, slammed me a couple of times and rolled over. He was done before I even got started. He insisted on using two condoms. He said the first one was to prevent me from getting pregnant and the second one was to prevent him from getting a disease.

There was no foreplay. He figured that if I was out cheating on my husband, then I was hot to trot and I should always be ready. Besides that, he claimed that most germs were passed during sex by kissing and he wasn't kissing any woman that wasn't his alone. The final and worst insult came when I discovered that he was bragging about fucking me. He even tried to blackmail me. He showed up at a party I was at and waited to get me away from Dennis. He'd been telling a lot of his friends about us having sex. He got me to go out to his car. My intention was to get him to shut up about it. After the first time, there was no way I was ever going to screw him again. He convinced me that if I did it once more that, he'd never tell anyone about it again.

So I let him fuck me in his car. It was even worse the second time. And the aftermath was far worse than the sex. I went back inside and started drinking heavily. I wanted to try and forget what had just happened. After all, I was the special one. I'd been the head cheerleader. I was supposed to be the princess. I wasn't supposed to be coerced and used. Anyway, while I was doing my best to drink all of the liquor in our host's bar. I heard a lot of shouting and saw Eric with his clothes ripped, running through the house and fleeing out the front door.

"Serves you right, asshole," I yelled drunkenly after him. I immediately got quiet when I noticed that two guys were trying to hold Dennis back from going after Eric, and everyone in the room was staring at me.

"What?" I asked, still holding a half empty bottle of vodka. I can still feel the chill from the glance Dennis gave me.

"Nothing," said Dennis. I dropped the bottle and it shattered on the floor. I knew that he'd said, "Nothing," but it meant, "Something."

Even as drunk as I was, I knew that I was in trouble. I started trying to walk over to him but I could barely stand up. "Dennis," I said softly.

"I loved you, Belinda," he said. "We've been married for six and a half God damned years, but I loved you before that. I do everything I can to make you happy. I loved you with everything I have, but it just meant NOTHING."

He just turned away from me and left the house. He got into his Mustang and drove away. That pretty much ended the party. Della took me home with her so I could sober up. The next morning I was a basket case. Dennis wouldn't answer the phone. He wouldn't speak to me at all. We were apart for nearly a month before Della and Penny managed to convince him that I'd been drunk when it happened and Eric had taken advantage of me. It took a while after we got back together to convince him not to go after Eric. I finally convinced him that he'd gotten all the revenge he needed when he'd beaten Eric's ass at the party and chased him out of the house.

Actually, I just hadn't wanted him to find out the true details about Eric and me. The problem now was that either one of those bitches who'd already expressed an interest in Dennis could tell him what had actually happened.

Dennis didn't snap back to himself after the first week either. I was so horny I was ready to handcuff him and drag him to bed. I saw him actually watching the cheerleaders while he watched a football game and spoke to him.

"Dennis, are you fantasizing about fucking a cheerleader?" I asked him. "I could go upstairs and put my uniform on."

"You'd rip it to shreds trying to get into it," he said. I was pissed.

"I used to be built just like them," I said.

"You were built better than them," he said, and I smiled thinking I'd just misunderstood his first comment.

"Well honey, I still have that same body," I said in a husky voice.

"That's true," he said. "You still have the same body, but you've stretched it all out of shape."

I was livid. "Dennis, my boobs have just gotten bigger since then. Most women get larger as they mature. Since my boobs, which you seem to love playing with and sucking on are bigger, it makes my body appear thicker, that's all. So are you saying that my boobs make me look fat all of a sudden?" I asked.

"It's not your boobs," he said. "I love your tits. It's not your boobs that make you look fat."

"Well Honey, you have to realize that married women don't dress as sexy as single girls do. My clothes are also looser, because I dress for comfort. I've already got my man so I don't have to force myself into jeans that are so tight I can't breathe. Are you saying that you want me to wear tighter pants? Do my pants make me look fat?"

"No, Belinda," he said. "Your pants don't make you look fat...It's your legs, your ass, that gut and those droopy cheeks that make you look fat." I almost slapped him.

The next day, I got Della and Penny together. After talking to them both, separately and together, I was pretty sure that neither of them was stabbing me in the back. We went over everything that had happened and they made me realize again that I'd caused all of this shit myself. Then we tried to figure a way for me to get out of it.

* * * * * *

Dennis

"It's not fucking working," I said.

"I figured as much," said Danny.

"Am I covering for you while you play, "Golf," again?" asked Ray. I just smiled. "God damn it Dennis. How much "Golf" do you need? Are you supposed to be Tiger Woods or something?"

"I can't help it Ray," I said. "I love her. And she's going back to Florida, soon. I think I'm going to die."

"Time for plan B," said Danny.

"What the hell is plan B?" I asked. "I've been as mean to her as I could. I've called her fat and I've refused to have sex with her..."

"Like you could actually get it up when the redhead is done with you," smirked Ray.

"Can you call her by her name?" I asked.

"Don't get touchy with me, Dennis," laughed Ray. "I protected your skinny ass for four years of football. Every quarterback needs protection on that left side. Besides if you remember, I'm not allowed to call her Steff. Everyone else on the fucking planet has to call her Stephanie, except you and that's too many syllables for me to remember when I'm not the one getting that pussy."

"Gentlemen," said Danny. Ray and I immediately looked around to see who he was talking about. "I meant you two idiots," he said.

"Guess who's in town and looking for work?" he asked. Ray and I were puzzled.

"Hank Walker," he said.

"Oh shit, I hate that bastard," I said. Hank Walker was another of our former teammates. Hank was definitely not a team player. All he ever worried about were his own stats. He didn't care about the team at all.

"Do you hate him too much to use him to get out from under Skankzilla?" asked Danny. "We need Hank for plan B to work."

"What's plan B?" I asked.

"Plan A was for you to start an argument with Belinda and then go for the divorce. That didn't work so we have to get nasty. In Plan B, Belinda cheats on you again and that way you can divorce her ass and since we don't live in an automatic community property state you can keep most of your shit. If this works, the four of us can be in Florida in a couple of months."

"What four of us?" I asked.

"You and Stephanie, and my wife Annie and me," he said. "You and I are engineers so we can both get transfers to our company's plant in Florida. My wife Annie is a nurse. She can get a job anywhere and I'm tired of cold winters."

"What about me?" whined Ray.

"You're single idiot," said Danny. "You can do whatever the fuck you please."

"Then why didn't you say the five of us," whined Ray. "I want to be included in stuff."

"I'm not sure you're good influence on Dennis," said Danny. "Besides, you're a pussy hound. I figured you'd want to stay here and fuck Skankzilla. You always did want a cheerleader..."

"Yeah, but I wanted a young, fresh, beautiful one. Not a fat, worn out, washed up one with big boobs and an even bigger gut," said Ray. "Besides, she has a fucking attitude problem. She acts like she's so special that she doesn't even shit. When she eats, all of her digested food turns into sunshine which beams out of her ass."

"More than likely it's all of that digested food that's blowing her belly up," said Danny.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"Remember how you ruined Hank's NFL career chances?" asked Danny.

"Who me?" I asked.

"Don't act dumb Dennis," said Danny. "Hank got to feeling too big for his britches. He even made a pass at Belinda so you decided to take him down a peg. You waited until that game where all of the scouts were in the audience and then fucked him up. You never threw him the ball unless he had double coverage. Even then you threw the ball just slightly over his head so he had to jump for it. Then the corners or the safeties for the other team would crush him while he was in mid-air. The third time you did that to him, they put him out of the game. From what I hear he still walks with a limp and has back pains."

"I can't believe that you think I did that," I said.

"I can't believe you did it over Belinda," said Ray.

"Well, she was less of a bitch then," I said.

"Only to you," said Ray.

"Anyway, Hank hates me," I said. "Why would he help us?"

"Because the dumb ass won't know that he's helping us," smirked Danny. "He'll think that this is his big chance to get back at you. We just need a few things. And get your lawyer ready because when this happens, we'll need to move quickly."

Over the next few days I got a lawyer. I only told her that I was sure that my wife was cheating on me "AGAIN."

The woman was supposed to be a real ball breaker when it came to divorces. Finding out that Belinda had cheated on me once before and I'd forgiven her and taken her back went a long way towards getting her on my side. She was sure that we'd be able to sway the court as well. From the way she was talking, I was sure that Belinda would be living with her mother in the senior citizens home when this was all done.

I also had to buy several new video cameras and bugs for our house and Belinda's cell phone. I also got hand held cameras for whoever was doing the surveillance. It would probably be Ray, because Danny was working on Hank.

He convinced Hank that I was still a smug SOB and that I still had that smug quarterback stick up my ass. They met at a bar a few times and that was all it took to get Hank to go after Belinda as some kind of revenge against me. I should point out that Hank had a wife and two kids that he'd brought to town with him and he was currently unemployed. That same "Me above all else" attitude that had ruined his place on the team, had gotten him fired from so many jobs, that he had to move back home.

Hank was also convinced that his loss of confidence stemming from his injury and failure to make it into the pro football ranks had ruined his career. So he blamed me for him getting fired all of those times too. In fact, every fucked up dream and failure over his entire life was all tracked back to me. He even blamed me for things that happened to him before we met. I was the bane of his fucking existence and had never known it. Well, after this was over, I'd have to find a way to let him know that I had fucked him over yet again.

According to Danny, things were going well with Hank. We did have a few little bugs to work out but they were nothing that a little bit of money and thought couldn't overcome. The first was the fact that we had to somehow transform an unemployed and generally shitty looking Hank into someone that might be able to get into Belinda's pants. Since Belinda still saw herself as a young gorgeous cheerleader whose shit didn't stink; fat, balding, married, out of work Hank was someone she'd take one look at and run in the opposite direction.

The obvious and only answer to the situation would be to buy Hank a suit or two and give him some money to spend on Belinda. Then, of course, he'd probably be curious about where the money came from and why someone was willing to go that far.

We got Danny's wife, Annie on board. Annie agreed to help us because "A" she thought the idea was a hoot. "B" she really wanted to move to Florida. And "C" she hated the shit out of Belinda. Annie had gone to college with us and still remembered Belinda's shitty attitude towards anyone she didn't consider worthy to be in her presence. Annie at the time had simply been a hard working nursing student. Since she wasn't a cheerleader or a prom queen candidate, she was beneath Belinda's notice.

The cool thing about that final meeting was that Ray and I got to sit in the bar with hats and disguises on. Danny called me just before Hank sat down and left his cell phone connected to mine so Ray and I could hear the entire conversation.

"Hey, Danny," he said, as he sat down nervously. "I had some questions, but uhm I see you have company."

Annie started playing her part then. She stood up and looked at Hank and started shaking her head. "We're going to need to buy him some clothes and get him a haircut," she said. Both of those facts were obvious. Then she really started to lay it on thick. "He's still an amazingly cute guy, even after all of these years," she said.

"That bitch is crazy," whispered Ray next to me. "He's only thirty three or thirty four, like us, but the bastard looks like he's fifty five."

"Shut up dumbass," I hissed. "They may be able to hear you through the phone. "She's just trying to build up his confidence."

"Oh...I knew that," smiled Ray. Then he got a confused look on his face. "How is lying to him going to build up his confidence?" I shot him an angry glare and he shut up.

"So you're in on this?" asked Hank. "Who are you?"

"I'm Annie Namkova," she said. "I went to college with you too."

"You did?" he asked. "I don't..."

"You don't remember me, right?" she said. "I wasn't very popular. So that's not a surprise."

"So you hate Dennis too?" he asked.

"With every fiber of my being," she said and then she laughed.

"Oh shit, she blew it," I said. Even Danny looked away. Surprisingly, Annie picked the ball back up after her fumble and ran with it.

"I'm sorry I laughed," she said. "But it's just so empowering to be able to say it out loud around other people who feel the same fucking way I do. I fell for his bullshit charm once. Like everyone else I thought he was just the nicest fucking guy possible. The bastard charmed me right out of my panties and almost ruined my marriage."

Ray and I stared at each other and even high fived each other. We were just so blown away by Annie's acting ability. "I'm getting that woman an Oscar," I whispered. Everyone in the bar was looking at us. "Touchdown," I screamed.