Indiscretion

Indiscretion

Just a little story about a couple finding what gives them pleasure.

Warning: this is not what you might call a love story for the ages.

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Frank watched his lovely wife, Carol, as she slipped into her dress. Raising her arms and holding the spaghetti straps between her fingers, she allowed the silky blue dress to drop effortlessly along her torso. Then releasing the straps and with a wiggle she gently tugged on the hem, and it fell into place fitting her perfectly. She was a vision and he never tired of watching her dress. Tonight would be a good night for them filled with romance and passion. They were taking their annual cross-country driving vacation, stopping where they wanted, seeing and doing what they wanted, having no schedule and no agenda. Tonight they were in Wichita Kansas. They had spent the day visiting museums and public gardens, taking photographs of themselves as they explored the town and enjoyed the day. It was a typical example of their perfect day on the road and tonight would be the perfect end to a perfect day.

"Stop staring at me, you silly goose!" Carol was being playful and making sure that Frank would not take his eyes off her.

Frank smiled as he watched his wife and said, "Isn't that gander... stop staring at me, you silly gander?"

Carol just smiled, turned, and wiggled her bottom just enough to win the argument. Frank loved losing arguments that way.

Once they had themselves put together, they left their hotel room and headed down to dinner. To anyone who might notice, they were just one of hundreds of couples out for an evening of pleasure. They were staying in one of the better hotels that provided an excellent dining room. Beyond the dining room there was a spacious bar with a dance floor and tonight there would be a live band. It was the kind of night that both Carol and Frank reveled in while traveling and they intended to make the most of it.

The maitre d was a lovely young woman in her early twenties wearing a dress that fit her impeccably. With a smile to them both, she turned and walked them to their table.

Carol quietly scolded her husband. "Hey, eyes on me, mister!"

Frank just smiled and looked at his wife. He knew she was being playful and that he didn't need the attention of the young woman to prepare him for the night's adventure.

Once seated, the waiter arrived to take their drink order. She kept it light with a glass of white wine saying, "I need my wits about me. I want to remember every moment of tonight."

He ordered a bourbon over ice saying, "Just one and then I'd like water, please."

The waiter nodded politely without comment as he was trained to do and soon returned with their drinks. "Would you like me to take your order, or do you wish to have more time?"

Frank smiled and said, "Actually, we were too busy talking to look at the menu. If you could give us a few more minutes?"

The waiter graciously excused himself and returned about ten minutes later to take their order.

Carol asked, "How is the salmon prepared?"

With the carefully practiced formal delivery, the waiter responded, "It is broiled with a brown sugar and balsamic glaze, then served with carrots and piped, whipped potatoes."

"That sounds lovely! I'll have that, please."

"And would madam like a salad to go with that?" The waiter's accent was affected, but not offensive.

"Yes, do you have a simple garden salad with leaf lettuce and a cranberry vinaigrette dressing?"

"Yes, mam, we do."

"Excellent!"

Turning to Frank, the waiter said, "And for the gentleman?"

"I'd like the dry-aged ribeye cooked medium rare."

"Excellent choice, sir."

"And I'll have a salad also."

"Excellent. And the vegetable?" The waiter was rapidly scribbling on his pad.

"I'll have what my wife is having."

"Very good, sir."

With the order placed and once again having no distractions, the two held hands across the table and discussed the events of the day. It had been the perfect day both agreed, and tonight would be the perfect ending.

As they talked, each would take a moment to glance around the room at the other guests. It was about what they expected given that this hotel was not for the budget minded traveler. There was one obviously affluent family with two small children, but the rest were couples and singles all dressed impeccably. Carol could not help but notice one man on the far side of the room who seemed to never take his eyes off her and she secretly smiled to herself. She knew she had that effect on men and had all her life. The stranger was handsome and the realization of what he was thinking gave her a momentary rush.

Although she occasionally glanced in the stranger's direction, and allowed him to catch her looking, dinner required that she give her husband her fullest attention.

"I see you have an admirer."

She looked at him with a slightly stunned expression. "How did you know?"

"Sixteen years of practice and a husband learns to read his wife."

"And how do you know I'm not just admiring him?"

"I know that look, too. If he wasn't already watching you, then your glances would be more surreptitious."

Carol paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, my love. That was rude of me."

"Not at all. I fully understand. But the night is young, and we have some dancing ahead of us, do we not?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I expect you to dance my feet off. I want to show off this dress and make every man in the room jealous of my husband."

That brought a smile to Frank's face. There was now little chance that tonight would be anything other than the best night of the trip.

After the main course, the couple shared a dessert of crème brûlée and coffee as they enjoyed a few minutes of quiet conversation while they digested their meal.

When it was time, they moved on to the spacious bar, ordered drinks, and contemplated the nearly empty dance floor.

Carol was in no hurry. "Why don't we wait until there are a few more couples dancing?"

"I thought you wanted to show off that dress of yours?" Frank was smiling in anticipation.

Leaning forward, Carol said, "Yes, but I want them to work for it!"

Frank knew his wife well and chuckled at the thought.

Soon there were more couples dancing. Frank stood, took his wife's hand, and escorted her to the dance floor. Holding her close, they swayed to the music and whispered quietly to each other. They had danced together many times both before their marriage and since, and they moved effortlessly to the sound of the quintet that seemed deliberately chosen for romantic couples who only wanted an excuse to hold their partner.

About twenty minutes after they took to the dance floor, Carol noticed her admirer had taken a table on the far side of the room from their own. He continued to watch her, and she felt that familiar shiver pass through her. There was little doubt how this night would end, but for now she snuggled closer to her husband.

The husband and wife spent about an hour dividing their time between the dance floor and their table, dancing to the music and sipping their drinks. Both were perfectly attuned to the other and knew each other's thoughts without asking.

"Your admirer has returned."

"Mmmm."

"Do you think he's going to ask you to dance?"

"Probably."

"And you'll say yes?"

"Only if you say I can."

Frank gave her a smile and a raise of his eyebrows, and she knew she had his permission.

They soon returned to their table, and it wasn't long before her admirer appeared before them.

Looking only at Carol, he held out his hand. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice how wonderfully you danced. Could I have the pleasure of this next dance?"

Carol was not pleased by the man's rudeness. "Well, you will need to ask my husband if he gives me permission."

The man flashed a look of impatience, then with a smarmy smile that radiated insincerity, he said, "You wouldn't mind if I danced with your wife, would you?"

Frank considered telling the man to leave, but a glance at his wife told him that she found his impertinence to be entirely appropriate for the night's adventure, and somewhat reluctantly agreed.

He watched as the man escorted his wife to the dance floor and thought, "The little bastard didn't even tell me his name." He watched them dance and saw how he seemed to amuse Carol. She was smiling and laughing at his remarks as he slowly guided her to the other side of the dance floor where Frank was mostly unable to see them. He did catch glimpses of them dancing and he thought he saw the man's hand wander off the reservation, but they remained in view of the other dancers and Frank let it go. In time the man escorted Carol back to their table and thanked her for their dance. Frank thought, "It's actually been three dances, but who's counting."

Looking at his wife, Frank whispered so that the neighboring tables would not hear, "So, did you enjoy your dance?"

Carol simply shrugged and smiled.

With a nod and a sip of their drinks, Frank escorted his wife back to the dance floor for several more dances. No sooner had they returned to their table, but the man returned and again asked Carol to dance. This time she did not look at her husband but stood and followed the man out onto the dance floor. They were gone much longer this time and Frank saw that they had gone to the man's table on the other side of the dance floor where they were sitting close together in conspiratorial conversation.

It was at least a half hour or more before she returned to her husband with the man's arm around Carol's waist. There was a smug look on his face as if he were undeniably the better man and Frank's dislike for him grew.

"Frank, dear, Jimmy has invited me up to his room for drinks and I've decided to go. You don't mind, do you?"

Frank looked at his wife, then to the man with the smug expression, and then back to his wife saying, "And if I do?"

"Dear, don't be that way! It's just a little adventure. I'll be back for breakfast, and then we can continue on with our vacation." With that said, she took her husband's hand, kissed him on the cheek, turned, and headed off with Jimmy.

Frank took a deep breath and then glanced at his watch. It was barely 10PM and he had a long night ahead of him. If Frank were truthful, he'd say that he would be just as happy to avoid these seductions that his wife enjoyed so much and just focus on the two of them, but he had long ago accepted his wife's peccadillos as a part of their marriage. He waited at his table for a time to make sure that his wife and Jimmy were in the elevator and away before turning his palm to read the note she had slipped him. "Room 426" was all it said. Now the question in his mind was how long should he wait? Should he arrive in time to save her honor, or give her time to play with her toy?

The next morning Frank awoke lying naked on the bed. He could hear his wife running water in the bathroom and humming to herself. She had obviously enjoyed herself the night before.

She entered the bedroom smiling. Carol was naked except for the towel she used to dry her hair. "Well hello, sleepy head! Did you sleep well?"

With a deep breath Frank said, "Yep. How about you?"

"I slept like the dead!" and then she laughed at her own joke. "We really must do something about the shower, Frank. I loved all the sex last night, but a girl needs to get clean in the morning."

All Frank said was, "Too much fluids."

Carol giggled. "Yes, and I made sure to drain the both of you!"

Frank replayed his memory of the night before and nodded to himself. It had been a perfect night. With no more thought than that, he stood and walked wearily to the bathroom.

"Oh you old man! You used to jump out of bed after a great night. You're slowing down. Hurry up. Checkout is in one hour and we still need to pack."

Frank just smiled. He was slowing down just a little, but he knew he could still get the job done when it was time. He walked into the bathroom, took a washcloth off the rack, and proceeded to wash himself. He always hated washing his hair in the sink ever since his mother would wash his hair that way and he decided that his hair could wait until tonight.

They dressed and prepared to leave. As Carol walked to the door Frank took one last long look around the room. Everything seemed in order, and they'd left nothing behind. He glanced one last time into the bathroom and saw Jimmy's lifeless body lying on the shower floor, his blood long since drained away. For just a moment, Frank thought back to their first kill and how they were almost caught when they left their victim's body lying on the floor and the couple in the room below noticed the wet stain forming on their ceiling. Again he thought, "Too much fluids. The shower is the only place." Then rejoining Carol, they exited Jimmy's room and returned to their own room to pack and leave.

Walking toward the elevator, Carol leaned into her husband and whispered, "There really is nothing quite like it, is there? Making love to your wife in another man's bed is the ultimate adventure." Frank had to admit to himself that it really was the most erotic experience he'd ever known, and they had shared it often.

"You took your sweet time unlocking his door." Frank wasn't angry, but he did notice.

"Jimmy was quite insistent. There was no putting him off." Then turning toward her husband, she giggled and said, "He didn't last very long. I hope you didn't need to wait."

Although they never talked about it, Carol never went off with anyone who was polite and respectful to her husband. She never targeted what you might call "a nice guy." Frank took some comfort in that knowledge. He never felt bad about the men he killed for her. Each had been rude toward him, and each had deserved their fate.

After checking out of their room, they carried their overnight bags down the street and around the corner where they caught a passing cab that would take them across town to where they'd parked their car. Frank and Carol had false identification and credit cards in different names, and they always had car registrations that were not their own, but he wondered how easily their car might be identified on the streets and highways and never parked in the hotel parking lots. Frank was the careful one. Carol was the free spirit.

Carol looked lovingly at her husband. "That was the perfect end to the first week of our vacation and we still have another week to go." With some hesitation in her voice that may have been rooted more in manipulation than in the request, "Do you think we can do it one more time this trip?"

Frank smiled and nodded. "I guess we'll just have to see what the week brings."

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I suppose that George Anderson's story February Sucks is partly the inspiration for this effort. There are very few stories that have gained so much attention or earned so many variations.

I suppose, too, that the partial inspiration for this story is Mary Howitt's poem that begins "'Will you walk into my parlour?' said a spider to a fly."

Mostly, however, I just like the idea of a player getting his just reward.