Paul And Paula

*********************************************************

"Sherry, this is Paula. I'm sorry to bother you, but I just got in a little while ago and I got this voice mail from Paul. What is this about a week long conference he had to fly off to?You know I haven't talked to him in a week and he never goes on one of these things without letting me know."

"Well, I guess you must have been hard to get hold of, Paula. I know this is something that's been on the radar for a few months, but they added some features and speakers and Paul just felt like he needed to be there for the University."

"But isn't this kind of sudden?"

"Yeah, but sometimes things happen; things we can't predict and things we can't prepare ourselves for. But I'm sure you'll have plenty to keep you busy until he gets back."

Paula hesitated. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn the bitch was making some kind of dig. Let's see if she could take it as well.

"Yes, I stay busy. But it will probably be harder on you than me. After all, you're the office wife. You know, the woman who gets all the responsibilities and none of the goodies of being married to Paul. And I'm sure that after six years of working with him, you know he'll have lots of goodies for me when he comes home. Damn, sometimes he comes back so – starved – we don't get out of bed for a couple of days. For a 42-year-old, he is something."

After a lengthy silence Paula did nothing to break, Sherry said, "I know he's starved for a lot of things, Paula. And if there's anybody who should know about how to feed a starving man, it's probably you."

"I've had a lot of practice keeping him happy. By the way, you seeing anybody nowdays? How long has it been since you broke up with your last boyfriend? A year now? I have to wonder, how does a woman deal with that kind of dry spell? I bet you love modern technology."

"I do alright. Not as well as you, I'm sure, but I get my share of – male companionship. Strictly for laughs. All the good ones are married or committed. But sometimes that can change."

"Not if their women keep them happy and coming back for more."

"Keeping your legs open isn't that only thing you need to keep a man. Some men want an exclusive contract. Well, I hate to chat and run, but I do have work to do. If Paul calls, I'll tell him I talked to you. Bye now."

Paula sat in the den and stared at the dead phone for a moment. Damn, the bitch had never been that blatant before. It was almost as if – she wasn't worried about pissing the boss' wife off. And any smart secretary knew better than to do that. If she wasn't worried, that meant...

Paula shook her head, dismissing the thought. She had been too careful. All her serious affairs were conducted out of town or in places where she made sure Paul couldn't track her. The rub and cum sessions at parties were dangerous, but Paul wouldn't believe any of the guys if they went to him and they all knew they'd be cut off and she'd do her best to cut their balls off as well if they talked. There was no way Paul could have found out – could know – that she was cheating on him.

But, still, it felt like something had changed. Sherry was talking to her in a way she never would have dared to before, and Paul was flat out avoiding her. Everytime she'd called for six days after that last call Monday evening she'd gotten voice messages or talked to Gil or Sherry. And she remembered suddenly that strange conversation with Gil the previous Wednesday evening. Something about the tone of his voice that night had given her the creeps.

Could something have happened that Monday or Tuesday night? She'd been balling Greg's brains out both nights. But still, how could Paul know? Why would he have been suspicious of this trip? It was just like any of the other. She had spent a lot of time and money making sure there was never even the slightest thing to arouse Paul's suspicions and before she left, as she always did, she'd given him a great night of sex and a blow job that he said curled his hair. She gave great blow jobs. She knew it. Every guy told her, because she really did love giving them. She could never understand women that said they didn't like sucking a hard dick until that hot cum squirted deep into her mouth and throat. Swallowing might have been difficult when she first started, but now she thought she'd rather have a good mouthful of hot cum than a cup of hot coffee to start the morning right.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that should have changed between the time she left and the first time she called Paul Wednesday and got his voice mail.

But something had. She had pretty good intuition. A high school guidance counselor, between ramming his ten inch dick up her ass every chance he could get, had told her with an IQ of 178, she was smart enough that she probably picked up hints from around her that she didn't consciously note and this was what she thought of as female intution.

There were too many strange things for something not to be wrong. She dialed again and this time Gil answered. The good thing about trying to get Gil was that he didn't really have anything to do except indulge in his hobbies and chase women.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said flirtatiously. She knew men and he'd wanted to fuck her as long as he'd known her. He was Paul's friend and so he'd never made the first move, but she knew if something happened to Paul he'd be on her before Paul was cold in his casket.

"Hi, Paula. You back in town?'

"Sure am, baby. Nice to be back. Have you talked to Paul recently?"

"Yeah, he called yesterday from Chicago. You know he's at some conference there, right?"

"Just found out. He called you? How come he's able to reach you and we haven't been able to hook up for a live call in about a week? Isn't that strange?'

She could feel his shrug over the phone line.

"Just coincidence. Sometimes it just happens that way. I'm sure you guys will have a chance to talk – sooner or later."

"I'm sure. Hey, Gil, I am curious about something. You remember the night I called and talked to you, you said Paul was going at both ends. Did he – vomit in the house or mess up the bed?"

"Yeah, yeah he did. When he came in from the car he told me he lost it in the living room and later on when he was trying to sleep it off he got sick on the bed too. I helped him clean up the bedclothes and cleaned up the kitchen and den before I took him home."

She waited a beat and then asked, "This is going to sound strange, but was he drinking? Did he do any drinking before you got here?"

"No, you know he doesn't drink."

"It's just that there's a bottle of brandy missing from the liquor cabinet. I know it was there when I left and it's gone now. It's strange."

"Hmmm, I don't know Paula. I know he wasn't drinking. I don't know what happened to it."

"And, I don't even know how to say this, you know about the Glock he keeps in the safe, right? Did he take that out for any reason?"

"No, I never saw it out. Why are you-"

"It's nothing. I just thought, for some reason, he might have taken it out, but there's no reason for him to do that."

After a minute she said, "You remember that Wednesday night I called here. Was there – I mean – I got the distinct impression...you were upset about something. Upset with me? I can't imagine why, but was that my imagination? You weren't angry at me for being out of town when Paul was so sick, were you?"

"Why would I – well, not really. It's just that, sometimes I think you enjoy those out of town trips a little too much."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"I'm not going to apologize for loving what I do, Gil, and my real estate work has given us a nice financial cushion. But I keep Paul happy. I still love him."

"Do you, Paula?"

"what the hell kind of question is that?"

"It's just that...you guys have been married a long time. I know with Lisa, we had gotten bored years before she...went off. Sometimes it's hard keeping a marriage alive. Especially when you're as good looking a woman as you are and you're out in the world with all kind of guys hitting on you all the time. And don't tell me they don't hit on you."

"Yeah, they hit on me. They have been since I was 12. They still do, but I've never forgotten I'm married."

Finally he said softly, "I hope you never do, Paula. Because that poor bastard loves you more than I've ever imagined any guy loving any woman. You leave him, you might as well blow his brains out. I don't know that he'd be able to recover."

"That's never going to happen, Gil."

"I hope not. Anyway, if I hear from him I'll tell him to give you a call."

The bastard was lying, every single word. Now she was sure of it. Something had happened, something had gone wrong with all her carefully prepared plans and Paul knew something. Maybe not everything, maybe not enough, but he knew something.

She sat back. And why the fuck should she care? She had come in this morning thinking that the marriage couldn't go much longer, feeling trapped in a pity marriage. So why was it so disturbing to think that Paul was going to be the one to take some action to end this rotten façade of what had once been a real marriage.?

It might be the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. So why didn't it feel that way?

***************************************************

PAUL – Tuesday evening

"Paul, please, please call me back. I don't know what's going on, but you're scaring me. You realize we haven't talked in more than a week. We haven't gone a week without talking in 20 years. I came home to find out that somebody wiped out the brandy and threw up all over the house. Nobody else has been there and you don't drink. Or at least you haven't since I've known you. I called Ben and Patricia and I know they haven't been home.

"Did you for some goddamned reason I can't figure out decide to turn into somebody I don't know anymore, or did you have a woman at our house and get drunk with her. I know that's crazy and you'd never cheat on me, but you're driving me crazy and I don't know what you're capable of anymore.

"And you bail out without talking to me to go to some bullshit conference. I don't care what story you're giving me, I know better. You know you used to joke about me being smarter than you. I never believed that, but you know I'm not stupid. The story you're giving me is stupid. And I talked to Sherry and Gil and they're both lying through their fucking teeth.

"I don't know what's happened, I don't know what you think is happening, I don't know what I've done to hurt you to make you act like this, but give me a chance. Talk to me. Paul, I've been your wife for 20 years. I gave you two children you love more than life itself. No matter how upset you are with me, I deserve the chance to hear it from you personally. Don't be a fucking coward and keep doing this to me. I deserve better from you."

Paul leaned back in the uncomfortable chair in the hotel room that he had managed to snag at the last possible minute and saved but clicked the message closed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She actually sounded unhappy, upset, angry, afraid. If he didn't know what he knew, he'd really believe that she was concerned about him, about the fate of their marriage. But how could that be? He'd also heard her tell another man she loved him more than she ever had her dull boring husband. His head was spinning. He kept coming back to the same question. Why the fuck did she keep pretending that they were still husband and wife, that they still had a marriage.

"What do you want from me, you fucking bitch," he growled at the cellphone. "You want to keep tormenting me until I kill you or myself or both of us? What the fuck do you want?"