February Almost Sucked

Yes, this is yet another adaptation of GeorgeAnderson's February Sucks. But, I have a specific twist I wanted to explore with this re-told tale.

The story begins with a long excerpt from the original February Sucks following the events of Linda leaving and Jim being left alone. Then my adaptation takes over. If you would like to read my thoughts on motivations and what I wanted to explore with this story, I'll leave that for the notes at the end. Feel free to read them if you wish.

"Look! He's coming this way!" Sure enough, Marc LaValliere had left his table and was heading for ours. I was amused by the reaction of the women at our table. Four of them primped and strutted, all but saying "pick me, pick me!" If you think a woman can't strut while she's sitting down, you have a lot to learn. Linda looked downward, and held my hand a little tighter.

"Hi, I'm Marc. Would you like to dance?" He was standing behind Linda's left shoulder, holding his hand out to her.

I felt Linda gasp as she dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato. I watched dumbstruck as she turned her back to me, gave Marc her right hand (it almost disappeared in his big paw) and gracefully rose from her chair.

"Hey, man, now my feelings are hurt. I thought she was just dancing with you tonight." Dave smiled as he needled me.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," I groused.

"Relax, Jim. It's just a dance." Jane tried to soothe me. I tried to believe her, but I couldn't help having a bad feeling about this.

The band played a couple of fast songs, and our whole table watched them dance. So did everyone else in the room. Marc was good, far better than I was, and Linda was clearly enjoying herself. Her partner and her dress combined to show her off to perfection.

"Don't they look great together? Come on, Jim, let's join them," Dee invited, clearly trying to distract me.

"Thanks, but no."

The next song was a slow one. I watched Linda melt into his arms, fitting perfectly as though she belonged there. He was good at that, too. Lots of practice, I'll bet, I thought to myself sourly. Marc said something to Linda; she smiled sweetly as she responded. He wasn't doing anything I could legitimately object to. He didn't dance any closer to her than I danced with Dee or Jane; his hands didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to.

Another slow song, a ballad this time. I could see the band leader watching my wife and her partner, taking his cues from them. Marc was smiling as he held Linda in his arms; he was clearly pleased with whatever was going on. I'd seen enough. I rose from my chair, and felt Jane's hand on my arm.

"Wait, Jim. Let her have this. Don't ruin it for her."

I jerked my arm free, and then I looked at Linda's face. She clearly wanted to be exactly where she was, and nowhere else. She did not want any interference from me. I slumped back into my chair. Finally, the song ended. Marc nodded at the band leader, who started a faster song. He and Linda left the dance floor, smiling at each other, but not touching, not even holding hands. Linda gave him a last brilliant smile as she turned toward our table and Marc turned toward his.

The difference between a woman's best smile and her second-best smile isn't much. Unless you know the woman well, you probably wouldn't notice it at all. As Linda neared our table and our eyes met, her best smile faded to her second-best. I knew then that we had a problem.

"I keep telling you that you're the most attractive woman in here," I whispered in her ear as I seated her. I reached for her hand, and held it in both of mine. "Is it time to take the next dance back to our room?"

For just the tiniest moment, I could have sworn Linda was afraid. Her eyes widened and I could feel her hand trembling. She covered the moment quickly, though, and looked away from me, across the table.

"I'm sorry, everyone, I just have to go to the restroom right now. Linda, come with me?" Dee's voice could be heard far beyond our table. I was too preoccupied to wonder why she had to broadcast this to the room at large. Linda looked at me apologetically.

"Sorry, Jim. I can use some freshening up, too." She rose and left, without answering my question. Of course, the conversation immediately turned to why no woman who is out with a group can possibly go to the restroom by herself. I had just started to wonder why my friends were working so hard to keep the conversation going on that topic, when Dee came back. Alone.

"Where's Linda? Is she okay?" I practically shouted.

"Relax, Jim," Dee said, smiling. "Linda is fine, she just has something to do. You don't need to worry about her. She is a grownup woman, you know." Upon which my friends started teasing me about how much I worried about Linda. It's true, I did; she worried about me the same way. I put up with it for about five minutes, and when Linda still hadn't returned, I'd had enough. I got up and headed for the bar, taking an empty plate with me as an excuse. I approached one of the female bartenders.

"Excuse me, but my wife went to the restroom about fifteen minutes ago, and hasn't come out. She never takes that long. Could you please go, or send someone, to be sure she's all right?"

The bartender gave me a dubious look. The plate in my hand gave me an idea.

"The wings are great, and she likes spicy food, but every now and then she gets a reaction. Really, I just want to know she's all right. Her name is Linda. Here, let me show you a picture of her." I put down the plate and pulled up Linda's picture on my phone. The bartender was beginning to look somewhat sympathetic when there was a voice at my elbow.

"She's all right, you don't need to check on her." Dee was addressing the bartender. "Everything's fine. I'll take care of this." She placed a five on the counter. I wondered why the bartender looked at me with what seemed like sympathy as she pocketed the bill.

"What... why... but she went there with you? because you asked her?" I was completely confused.

"Jim, she's not in the restroom. She has left the club."

"Left? Without me? Why? What's the matter? Why didn't she tell me? Where did she go? Is she all right?" I still didn't get it.

"Let's go to the end of the bar where there's some privacy." I just went where Dee dragged me. It was quieter in the dark corner at the end of the bar. Dee looked me in the eye.

"Jim, Linda loves you. She loves you and the children more than anything else in the world, and she always will, and you know it. But she is spending tonight with Marc."

I stood there with my mouth open, looking stupid as my world ended. Pictures whirled madly through my mind, or what was left of it. Linda at the top of the stairs in her beautiful blue dress. Linda at dinner; Linda at the club; Linda as we fed wings to each other. Linda in Asshole's arms. My anger rose.

"So on what was supposed to be our special night, she left me for some asshole jock." I glared at Dee as I growled the words.

"Jim, she hasn't left you. She'll come home to you tomorrow, and you'll have plenty of other special nights together."

"She didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face that she was leaving me. She just snuck out the back door."

"Jim, listen to me. She hasn't left you..."

"Well, if she hasn't left me, then where the hell is she? She sure isn't with me now, is she?" I was getting loud, and didn't care who heard me.

"Please settle down, people are looking at you. Listen, I know this hurts for you, but it's just tonight. Linda knows, we all know, that you're the only man for her and you always will be. You're the good guy."

"Yeah, and we all know where the good guy finishes, don't we?"

"Jim, it isn't like that. You're making way too big a deal out of this. It's only tonight, then she'll come back to you tomorrow and everything will be just like it was before." I snorted at her. If she really believed that shit, nothing I could say would make any difference anyway.

"So, Friend, what was your role in all this? You didn't really need to go to the restroom, did you? My wife gave you the signal, right? She told you to stall me and keep me out of the way long enough for her and Asshole to make their getaway?"

"Yes, she asked me to do that, because she didn't want you to embarrass yourself by making a scene while Marc was here. She also asked me to make sure you remembered that she loves you, and she will always come home to you."

Yeah, I'd remember exactly how much she loved me tonight, for a long time to come. "More like she didn't want me to embarrass her as she walked away from her husband to spend the night with an asshole jock. I don't suppose it occurred to you, Friend, to remind her that she had a husband and a marriage, and she might lose them over this?"

Dee looked me in the eye. "No, it didn't, because I know she won't lose you over this. You're too good a man to let that happen. I told her how lucky she is. She's lucky because the man that every woman in the room wanted, wanted her; but she's even luckier that she has a husband who loves her enough to get past his hurt feelings and not make this a bigger deal than it should be. You know she'll be willing to do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to make it up to you."

"What if it isn't possible to make it up to me? What if there is no way to make this right?"

"Jim, I know how much you love Linda, and how much she loves you. This doesn't have to be a big deal. It's just one night, a one-time experience, compared to all the years and all the love you two have together. It isn't a big deal, unless you make it one. I know she'll come home to you, and I know eventually, you'll be fine." Dee spoke gently but confidently. It was all I could do not to grab the stupid woman and shake her until her teeth rattled for spouting such nonsense. She must be living in some sort of alternate universe if that's what she really thought.

"So if Asshole had picked you, as you wanted him to, you'd have done the same thing?"

"I would." She flung her answer into my face.

"Does Dave know that?"

"No, and he doesn't need to, because I don't think it will ever happen," she said softly.

"Maybe I should tell him."

"Jim, please don't. Don't think that way. I know you're hurting, but that won't help. Please come back to the table. Let us take your mind off it for a while. You haven't danced a single dance with me all night, you know." She smiled invitingly at me.

"I wanted to dance with my wife, but thanks to you and her and Asshole, that doesn't seem to be an option, now does it?" I turned my back on Dee and stalked back to our table.

The talk at the table stopped abruptly when I appeared. The averted eyes told the tale: all of our friends now knew that my wife and Asshole were at that very moment making a cuckold of me.

"Uh, Jim, are you going to be okay?" Dave asked hesitantly after he seated Dee. I wanted to tell him what Dee had said and ask if he would be okay, but I couldn't force the words past my throat. I guess I hadn't gotten over being the good guy yet. I would have to work on that.

"It depends on what you mean by okay." There were a couple of nervous giggles.

"I mean, yeah, that was a shitty thing to do, but you two are going to make it, aren't you? You're not going to divorce Linda over this, are you?"

"I don't see why I shouldn't," I responded coldly. There was a gasp around the table.

"Why are you all acting surprised?" I continued. "We all know how we feel about cheating: once and done. We established that long ago."

"But Jim, it's Marc LaValliere..." Dee interposed.

"So what? I don't care who's fucking her. If it isn't me, that's that."

"Jim, what about your kids? We all know how much you love them, and how much they need you. Think of them before you do anything." Jane's kids were about the same age as mine and were best buds.

"You mean, like my wife is thinking about them right now?"

"Well, that's why you got a sitter, so you wouldn't have to think about your kids." I think Dee meant it to be funny. It fell as flat as it deserved to. "Come on, Jim, it's just one night. It's an opportunity she'll never have again. You wouldn't divorce Linda over one night."

"Why not?" I glared at her. An uncomfortable silence followed.

"Jim, try to think of it this way, maybe it will help." Jane was trying to sound sympathetic. "What if the cover model from the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue was here tonight? Say she picked you out of everyone here to dance with, and then she offered to spend the night with you. Can you honestly say you wouldn't be tempted? Can you honestly say you would turn her down?" The pleading look in Jane's warm brown eyes made her look like a particularly winsome puppy dog, and was usually quite effective in getting her what she wanted. Not tonight.

I stood and looked down at Jane. "Yes, I would be tempted, but I would turn her down. You see, I have a wife, and I don't want to hurt her. At least, that's what I'd have done before tonight."

There was another one of those deafening silences. I looked around the table at each of my former friends, all of whom were siding with my cheating wife. At that moment, I sincerely hoped never to see any of them again. I pulled out a twenty and dropped it on the table. "That will pay my tab. You're all covering for the slut I came with; you might as well cover her bill, too." I turned on my heel and stalked out of the club.

My anger cooled as I walked the block and a half to the hotel. It was replaced by the deepest sadness I had ever known. Linda and I were supposed to be making this walk together, holding hands, chaffing our friends about what they were going to get up to once they got to their rooms, and being chaffed in our turn. She was supposed to be holding my arm that way she does, and pushing her face into my coat sleeve when the conversation got too risqué. Instead, I was alone. Alone, I rode the elevator, trying not to remember what Linda and I had gotten up to in other hotel elevators. Alone, I entered what was supposed to have been our room. Alone, I faced the wreckage of our special night.

I turned on the light, and shut the door behind me. Suddenly, I was weary beyond the telling. I dropped my winter coat on the floor and slouched toward the bedroom. There was a Godiva chocolate on each pillow. Laid out in the middle of the bed was a bra and panty set that I hadn't seen before. They were dark blue, darker than her dress, edged with black lace. In my mind's eye, I could see her modeling them, with that combination of love and sensuality in her eyes that was all her own, that had been all mine until tonight. I took the lacy little garments tenderly into my hands, as if holding them might bring her back to me. It didn't work. I wept.

My wife, my lover, my best friend, had been taken from me by another man. He had casually, easily, plucked her from right beside me, as if he had every right to do so. He didn't care what she meant to me; all he saw in her was a pretty fuck toy for the night. And she had just let him! I didn't matter enough to her to inspire even the slightest resistance. It was as if she, too, thought he had a right to her, stronger than whatever right I had earned by almost ten years as a faithful, loving husband. Yes, it was supposed to be just one night. And the next morning, I supposed. So what? And what would he, and this night, leave in her heart and mind and senses? What could I ever do that would compare to, let alone compete with, the city's hero, the handsome stud, Marc "The Asshole" LaValliere?

February Almost Sucked

Linda felt her heart pounding with excitement as she dipped into the backseat of the limo, the door held open by Marc, grinning at her from ear to ear. In no time the vehicle had pulled out from the front of the hotel and was taking them on the way to Marc's apartment. Her body was tingling with arousal and excitement at what was to come. She felt him gently wrap his massive hand around the nape of her neck and pull her into a deep, slow kiss. It was explosive and magical. She felt his hands, now unrestrained in the privacy of the limo, exploring her body. Cupping her breasts, touching her inner thighs. She was on fire with lust.

Time seemed to move extra quickly and before Linda knew it, Marc was holding her door open in front of a massive, luxury apartment complex. She wrapped her arm around Marc's as he escorted her up the short flight of stairs. The two doormen at the entrance gave her a knowing look. When the ladies at the front desk repeated that look after greeting 'Mr. LaValliere' she felt herself blushing. Her loins were twitching with the excitement knowing that, in just a few minutes she would be naked, on her back, with the first new man to penetrate her since she'd started dating her husband... her husband...

Marc pawed at her in the elevator, tweaking her nipples through her blue dress. It felt a little painful and a lot pleasurable. She looked down as his hands slid over the blue fabric. The fabric that made up the dress she'd specifically picked for Jim to remove from her body.

As they walked down the hall to his unit, Linda could already discern the knot in the pit of her stomach that was threatening to overwhelm her arousal. He unlocked the door and held it open. The apartment was clinical; with not much in the way of trappings or personalization. It looked like a slightly more lived in hotel room. Like the hotel room she had planned to spend the evening in making love with her husband.

Marc pulled her into another deep, sensual kiss. She felt his hand slide over her chest and under the fabric. He slid down her breast closing in on her painfully excited nipple. She felt his fingers grip and pinch it. The sensation reminded her, of all things, of breast-feeding. Her memories of her tiny children suckling at her while her husband watched replayed in her head like she was watching them on a big screen. She broke away and Marc gave her a swarthy, confident smile.

"Shall we move to the bedroom?" He asked.

All she could do was nod. He took her hand and led her through the apartment into a small bedroom with a large bed in the center. There was something about the room that struck her as positively spartan.

She felt her coat slide from her shoulders as Marc pulled it off her. She was practically shaking. Her emotions were now fully mixed between pure, raw lust, and memories of her family.

She felt a tug at the back of her dress as Marc's hands grabbed the zipper and started sliding it down. She thought about what it would feel like to experience a new man. To show him her naked body. To feel the taboo of the forbidden act they were about to partake in. She wanted it badly.

But then she thought of Jim. For the first time in an hour, she thought about the looks he'd been giving her while she danced with Marc. The expression he had when she returned to the table. Her feelings when she knew she was going to leave him on their special night to have sex with another man.

She felt Marc's hands on her shoulders, moving the straps down the side of her arms. Her life flashed in front of her. Lust, passion, taboo, sex, pleasure, guilt, shame, heartbreak, loss, betrayal, pain, loneliness, sadness, grief, emptiness.

"Stop."

Linda felt his hands stop mid way down her arms. Her breasts were only half covered, and she could see lust in the eyes of the man in front of her.

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can." He said, sliding down her top. She felt the cool air kiss her nipples as they were revealed to the first man, other than her doctor, to see them since she'd married. The cold reality of that arousal spurred her to action. She pushed him back and yanked her dress back up.