It's Just a Number

Shelby stopped immediately and gave the young man a look of disgust.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she spat at him while straddling his hips.

Raphael tried bucking up into Shelby while she sat there. She kept him as immobile as possible, waiting for an answer.

"What?" he finally cried out. "I know what you married women want. Hubby can't be much of a man if you're out here with me getting strange."

"Oh, please. Hubby is every bit the man you are. I just like variety," she explained. "I don't need the juvenile shit from you. If you want to make this a regular thing, never mention my husband again, you moron."

"Yes, ma'am."

She gave him another withering look.

"And don't ever call me ma'am again, unless you want me to reach down and crush your nuts."

"Yes... Shelby."

Jordan may have been trusting, but his experience with Shelby in college taught him not to give her too much leash. He was incredibly pleased that she had apparently taken her marriage vows seriously, and even though he had occasionally verified, all he could determine was that she was completely faithful for the first 12 years of their marriage.

That was as far as it went, however. Three weeks into her affair with Raphael, Jordan had come up on Shelby from behind while she was cooking dinner and wrapped her in a playful hug one Wednesday afternoon. As she squealed in delight, Jordan noticed that her hair didn't have its usual smell of White Shoulders. Shelby had been putting a spritz of the perfume in her hair since the pair was in high school. Now that he thought about it, her hair smelled fresh-washed, even though she supposedly hadn't showered since before she went to work.

The private investigation firm that Jordan occasionally used for 12 years to verify his wife's faithfulness or lack thereof needed only one Wednesday to confirm Jordan's worst fears.

"Fuck!" he croaked over the phone to Rod Jackson, the firm's owner, when Jackson gave him the bad news that Thursday morning.

Jordan knew what divorce meant for his family. He didn't want to be a part-time father to his children. He also knew he still loved his wayward wife, although he wasn't sure if he could forgive her disrespect. It was one thing when she slept around on him before they were married; they agreed to not being exclusive, but since marriage? That was never an option open to discussion.

Jordan sat in his car and watched as first Raphael, and then Shelby five minutes later, entered the young man's apartment building. He wanted to interrupt the pair while they were fucking. Ten minutes later, he went to Raphael's door with a pizza box in his hand and started pounding.

Raphael was fucking Shelby doggy when the pounding started. They tried to ignore the noise, but realistically it was tough to do. He put on a robe and went to the door while Shelby waited under the covers in the bedroom.

Raphael was confused and angry when he saw a man holding a pizza box through the viewfinder, assuming the stupid 30-something delivery man had the wrong apartment.

"That's why you're slinging pizza, bud, you've got the wrong apartment," Raphael said as he opened the door while keeping the chain latched.

Jordan shouldered his way through the door, breaking the chain and shoving Raphael backwards. As Raphael regained his balance, Jordan swung his son's Little League bat at the man's midsection, eliciting an "ooph" as he connected with Raphael's stomach. When Raphael doubled over, Jordan kicked upwards with his right leg, connecting solidly with the young man's balls.

"Oorrgghhmm!" Raphael uttered as he hit the deck.

"Get up, you piece of shit, so I can beat on you some more!" Jordan screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. "She's a Goddamned married woman, you douchebag! You knew it, and you got what you deserved!"

Shelby heard the commotion and recognized her husband's voice, although she had never heard that tone out of him before. She immediately pulled the covers up to her neck and curled into a fetal position, facing the door with wide, wild eyes. She had no idea what took place at the door, but she wasn't about to venture out and find out.

Her eyes opened even wider when Jordan showed up in the doorway looking more like a rabid thug than her gentle, loving husband.

"Get your clothes on, bitch!" he barked, breathing heavily while he glared at her.

Shelby hesitated until Jordan took a step toward the bed. She didn't want him to see her red, still somewhat aroused pussy lips. She slid out of the bed sideways and started to get dressed while Jordan looked out to check on Raphael, who was still curled up in a ball and moaning.

Jordan stepped out of the doorway and let his wife pass. She gasped when she saw Raphael on the ground and ran to comfort him, apparently forgetting for the moment her enraged husband standing silently.

"Oh, Jordy, what have you done?" she rasped.

"Oh, Shelby, what have you done?" he mocked.

Her eyes got big again. She hadn't thought about Raphael's beat-down being her problem.

"Yeah. You're worried about him," Jordan sneered. "How about worrying about me? How about worrying about your family, slut? Get up. Go home. NOW!"

She did as ordered.

"You can call the cops on me if you want, but I will get out on bail and beat your ass again. Maybe you want to think twice before you go after another man's wife again, dickhead."

Jordan didn't bother to close the apartment door when he left. He went over to the young man's Audi in the parking lot, pulled out his knife and drove it into the sidewall of all four tires.

"Not patching these, you fuckhead," he muttered to no one.

Shelby was seated at the kitchen table when Jordan walked in, still carrying the bat and growling under his breath. He didn't wait for his wife to speak.

"You cheating bitch!" he shouted. "Tell me why I shouldn't give you what I gave your boyfriend."

Any other time Shelby would have been assured that Jordan wouldn't hit her, but after what she witnessed a few minutes earlier in Raphael's apartment, she wouldn't have put money on him not belting her, too. She hadn't seen her husband get violent for a long time.

Shelby stared at him open-mouthed.

"You could go to jail for attacking Raphie. You know that?" she said.

"Well, I guess then you wouldn't have to worry about me getting in the way with you and 'Raphie,'" he said, using air quotes when he called him by the nickname Shelby just used.

She grimaced and dropped her head.

"How long has this been going on, Shelby? Why? Am I not enough for you?"

"About three months," she whispered. "I-I. It's not you, Jordy. It just... happened. It was just sex, nothing for you to worry about. I love you. This meant nothing to me."

"Yeah... but it meant everything to me, Shel."

"We... we don't have to get a divorce, do we, Jordy?" she whispered again.

"That's up to you more than me. First off, you know this can't happen again, right? This isn't like what you did during college," Jordy said.

Shelby's head jerked up at that statement. Until that moment, she didn't believe Jordan had a clue about her sexual activities in college.

"You can thank the kids that you're still here," Jordan said. "I don't want to be a part-time father to my kids. If we didn't have kids, you'd be gone."

Shelby was relegated to the guest bedroom/office for the next two months. The children were told that Mommy and Daddy were arguing and that they were sleeping apart. The oldest, Matthew, knew the dispute was more than just an argument, as several of his classmates came from split homes.

About a month after the cheaters got caught, Jordan got a registered letter from an attorney representing Raphael, asking for reimbursement for his four tires. Jordan was more than unhappy with Raphael's chutzpah.

"Did I not let him live?" he said to Shelby, who said nothing and couldn't look Jordan in the face.

"How many times would you say you fucked the scumbag?" Jordan said.

Shelby blushed profusely. Prior to catching her in her affair, Jordan never spoke brusquely to his wife. Now that occurred more often than not when the children weren't around.

"About 10 times," she answered quietly.

Jordan was glaring at her when she finally looked him in the face.

"Three months, Shel," he said.

"Maybe 20 times," she said, even quieter than before.

"That sounds more like you," he remarked.

"So $1,000 divided by 20 is 50 bucks a fuck. For a high-class slut like you, 50 bucks is cheap... cheap. I'm going to tell his fucking lawyer he can take me to small claims court if he wants his money, but then he should expect me to make a counter-claim in open court, which might just make its way to your company's HR department."

Shelby's face showed panic. Jordan was pretty sure Shelby's company didn't have a policy against employees being intimate with each other, but he knew it certainly wasn't a professional look.

Several weeks later, as the pair was sitting alone in their family room watching TV, Shelby asked Jordan about why he felt the need to beat Raphael so badly.

"Guy Rules," he answered, noticing his wife's quizzical look. "Every guy knows that if you chase a married woman, her husband has the right to beat the shit out of you, if he can. It's payback for violating the unwritten rule of fucking married women.

"It also sends the message to other friends or co-workers of the cheating bastard that they shouldn't even consider chasing the bitch, too."

A year later, things in the Lieber household were as back to normal as they were ever going to get. Shelby knew her husband loved her, but he was never going to forget, which meant he was never going to completely forgive her. She could feel his eyes on her at times and she knew what he was thinking. There was always going to be a wall up between them.

Although she could never admit it to anyone, Shelby had enjoyed her affair with Raphael. She enjoyed Raphael's flirting with her, the pursuit, the sex with a new and different partner. She enjoyed sex, and from what her many partners before marriage had indicated, she was good at it. She enjoyed providing pleasure to her partners. Even though she enjoyed sex with Jordan, it was always with the same partner. She had enjoyed her various partners before marriage. Now she was feeling... held back.

She had thought about it often since Jordan had caught her. Jordan was either lucky to have caught her or he had been having her watched... and the latter would have been prohibitively expensive. She never considered a third alternative.

Shelby never even considered flirting in her office after her affair with Raphael. Jordy's message was received loud and clear, and the men in her office gave her a wide berth after that. She often felt like her husband was keeping her on a leash, and she grew resentful.

Dr. Robert Carmody was a very impressive man, from virtually every standpoint that a woman uses to measure. He was 6-4 and well-built, handsome in a masculine way and was a successful orthopedic surgeon. At 42, he was in his prime and knew it. When he looked seriously at a woman, he didn't care if she had a ring on the third finger of her left hand or not. If he wanted her, he made his move, completely believing that it was just a matter of time until that woman was his. His personal history showed his thought processes to be correct.

The expensive dark blue suit impressed Shelby when the doctor and a colleague swept past her table while she and her best friend from the office were eating lunch downtown one early afternoon. When the two men got to their table just a few feet away, Shelby wasn't exactly tactful as she looked him over. His well-coiffed dark brown hair was sprinkled with gray, and his blue eyes shone brightly as he talked to his lunch partner.

"Ooh, I'll take one of those," Shelby commented to her friend.

Marguerite Wilson looked in the direction where Shelby's eyes were headed. She had to admit her friend had good taste.

Dr. Carmody was a player. He noticed Shelby watching him. He also noticed the ring on her finger; not that it mattered. He left his table and walked over to the table at which Shelby and Marguerite sat. When the women got up to leave after finishing their meals, Carmody had Shelby's number in his phone.

"You do remember that you're married, right?" Marguerite asked.

"Yeah, but I'm not orthodox, you know?" Shelby said.

"Aah, girl, do you really want to play with fire?" Marguerite continued.

"That kind of heat may be worth a little singe," Shelby said.

A month later, Dr. Carmody was pounding Shelby doggy in a hotel a block from Miller-Pulaski Hospital over their lunch hour. This was the second time the two had hooked up, and both were enjoying the hell out of each other. Shelby shrieked in a noisy, wet orgasm, which took Carmody over the top as well.

"Goddamn, woman, you are one fine piece of ass!" Carmody enthused.

Shelby never had the temerity to ask Jordan how he found out about her affair with Raphael, being smart enough not to be that obvious. She knew she had to be very careful this time around.

Because Jordan only had investigators following Shelby occasionally, it took a month before they picked up on her trysts with Carmody. It had been 10 years since her last affair, but Jordan wasn't giving her bonus points for going a decade since her last cheat, particularly since the couple's youngest child, the only one left at home, was now 17.

At first thought, Jordan knew he couldn't get away with physically assaulting Carmody the way he had done with Raphael 10 years earlier. He would expect the good doctor to have a very pricey attorney. On second thought, however, Jordan knew that a nice payout to the doctor would just reduce the amount he would have to pay his cheating bitch of a wife in a no-fault settlement.

Jordan was standing off to the side of the lobby in the hotel when his wife and Dr. Carmody arrived at the desk to check in to their room. Neither saw Jordan coming up from behind. He took the same Little League bat he used on Raphael, placed it between the doctor's legs and brought it up hard. The doctor gave a pained squeal and collapsed as Shelby turned to see Jordan standing there smiling.

"Oh, my God, Jordy!" Shelby shrieked.

"Shut up, you stupid bitch, unless you want me to take another shot," Jordan yelled.

"Hi, doc. I'm this stupid bitch's husband, at least for a while longer. I think you owe me an apology," Jordan said without a trace of emotion in his voice.

The doctor laid on the floor moaning.

"Oh shit," whispered the shocked desk clerk. "You're her husband. I-I-I didn't know."

"Not your problem. My problem, at least for a while longer," Jordan said.

"If that fuckhead wants to press charges, she'll be able to give the police my location."

Shelby showed up at the Lieber home about two hours after Jordan got there. If he expected her to be contrite, he was wrong.

"You really are a piece of work. You know that?" she yelled at him when she walked in the door. "That little stunt tore both of his testicles. They were still operating on him when I left."

"I'm sorry for ruining your afternoon," he said while he carried a couple of suitcases out to his car.

"He's probably going to sue you for damages, and maybe even have you charged with assault," she said smugly.

"I thought about that, but then I realized that half of that money is yours. I'm good with that. And if I get charged with assault, he can expect the hospital's board of directors to receive a very unflattering video file," Jordan said.

"You would do that... to me?" she asked.

"After what you did to me? Absolutely," he said. "You got your mulligan 10 years ago. Two of the kids are out of the house now and Ariel has only a year left at home. I warned you 10 years ago, but you just couldn't keep your legs closed."

Jordan moving out was the worst thing that could have happened to Shelby. While she was smart enough to know she would never get full forgiveness from her husband, her chances of getting a sniff at any level of absolution went down badly if she couldn't be in the same house, not to mention the same bed. Having a lush body was no advantage if she couldn't flaunt it in front of her husband, rub up against him, touch him.

The Lieber children were shocked when Jordan told them he was divorcing their mother. They went from shocked to appalled when he told them the reason.

"You just had to, didn't you?" Shelby yelled when he answered his phone three days later. "This is your way of getting revenge on me; telling the kids I'm a slut?"

"No revenge, just stating the truth so they know this isn't on me. And, for the record, I used the term 'cheating whore.' At least one of the kids tried to soften it up for you," Jordan said.

"Jordy, you know I still love you. Always have. Always will. This was just a little bump in the road. It was just sex. You know I like sex. This was just some strange," Shelby said.

"We've had this discussion before, Shel. You got plenty of strange before we married. There should be no strange after we married... and yet somehow, you seem to think you can when you want," Jordan said.

"I warned you the last time. Now that the kids are virtually out of the house, you are history.

"You keep telling me you love me. Then you keep showing me you don't love me enough... enough to keep your vows. I'm sorry, babe. I won't live like this."

Shelby was served two weeks later. Although Jordan knew Shelby was going to fight the divorce, he didn't expect what came next: two weeks later Shelby called to tell Jordan she was pregnant. He could tell by the tone in her voice that she wasn't trying to slow the divorce.

"How the fuck could you let this happen, Shel? You didn't go off birth control for this prick, did you?" Jordan asked.

"Even you can't think I'd be that stupid. According to my doctor, the antibiotic I was taking a few weeks ago for that sinus infection cancelled out my birth control. So now you need to drop this divorce," she remarked.

"Good one, Shelby, but if I'm a betting man, a DNA test is going to reveal that the baby belongs to your handsome surgeon. We should be able to test within a few weeks," Jordan said.

"That won't be happening as long as this baby is inside me," Shelby said. "You want DNA, it can be done after the baby—our baby—is born."

"You want to play it that way, fine, but I will get an injunction forcing you to keep me off the birth certificate until we have DNA confirmation."

Even though he was pretty sure he wasn't the father, Jordan was not taking any untoward chances and made sure he attended childbirth classes with Shelby the same way he did for the couple's first three children. Shelby made sure to touch her husband as much as possible when they were together for the classes. Regardless of how often he said he wasn't going to change his mind on the divorce, Shelby knew that when push came to shove, she still owned him, at least in her own mind.

Because there were still seven months to go before the baby was born, Jordan moved back into his house. Despite Shelby's best efforts, he spent the entire time before the baby was born sleeping in his son's old room.

"Oh, come on, Jordy. It's been four months. Grow up and move back into our bed where you belong. You know how horny I get when I'm pregnant," Shelby said one Sunday several months after Jordan returned home.

Jordan looked at his wife in total disbelief.

"You slept with another man and are probably carrying his child right now, yet you think I'm going to have sex with you again? Even you can't be this delusional, babe," Jordan said.

"You forgave me once for straying, and now that I'm carrying our next child, I know you won't walk out on me," she said smugly.