The Good Wife

Harry was mulling over how to reply to his wife's outlandish news, when Karen suddenly shifted her gaze to stare at Joanie's hands that were folded on the table. Karen smirked and said, "Uhm, Sis, is there more to this story than you have told us?"

Joanie smiled at her sister, winked, and then turned her gaze back to her husband saying lightly, "Oh yes, very much more."

She raised her hands fully revealing the partially concealed bills that her sister had spied peeking out between her fingers. Joanie carefully counted out four fifty dollar bills on top of the stack of ten twenties in front of her husband.

She cheerfully went on in a lilting, pleasant voice, "Mr. Anderson, well I guess I can call him Fred after tonight, didn't need the ATM; he had a stack of fifties in his wallet."

She glanced at her sister Karen and explained, "Fred owns the engineering and powerplant construction company where Harry works. Sort of Harry's boss' boss' boss kind of thing. He's the very top of the company food chain."

Karen nodded thoughtfully and said quietly, "Ah yes, I bet he was that tall, distinguished looking gentleman in formal evening wear I saw you talking with. Very striking, I'd say quite sexy in a older debonair way."

Joanie laughed saying, "Yep, that was him. He has quite the well-earned, lady-killer reputation. Alas, his wives never appreciate that trait after they marry him. He is in the process of divorce number three. Fortunately he can afford it."

Joanie shifted her attention back to her husband who sat thunderstruck at the developments of the last few minutes.

She giggled as she went on, "Turns out, he had seen me at the company Labor Day barbecue for the first time. Being the lady's man that he is, he decided right then and there that he was going to find a way into my knickers, by hook or crook. Rather flattering that the CEO and owner would take such a personal interest in your wife; don't you think, dear?"

Harry grimaced and grunted, "No, not really."

Joanie shook her head in amusement at her befuddled husband as she glanced over at Karen saying, "And then there I was selling myself at that bargain basement price you set. What a deal for him! It would be a cheap hook or crook to get in my knickers now. Well, I had just screwed the lieutenant shortly before for two hundred bucks so I really couldn't very well refuse Fred's offer to rent my ass for the same price, could I?"

Karen laughed as she agreed enthusiastically, "No, absolutely not. We whores do have rules of etiquette you know."

Joanie continued seriously, "After all, you have to also realize Harry is not a union member, is not protected by EEO laws, and is too young to claim age discrimination. If he wanted to, Fred could just haul off and fire Harry tomorrow as part of a staff realignment or some such thing. So it was also my wifely duty to look after my husband's career, you understand."

The earlier events flashed through Joanie's mind like a kaleidoscope. Fred had made his scandalous proposition on the edge of the dance floor and tucked the four fifties in her bosom. She had been struck mute by the surprise of it all and had not actually agreed to anything. Fred just confidently hooked his arm through hers and escorted her onto the patio outside the ballroom.

The patio was where she had taken the lieutenant. They had smooched for a few minutes, but quickly his more deep-seated desires took the upper hand. She had stepped out of her panties, bent over a table and flipped up her dress. She kept a weather eye on the door to the ballroom as people wandered in and out from time to time for a smoke, fresh air, or a break from the noise inside.

The lieutenant had slaked his lust in her vigorously. He was a stud stallion servicing a very willing mare. Joanie enthusiastically met each vigorous thrust with her own while verbally spurring her lusty young stallion to greater exertions. They finished with mutual body wrenching climaxes, fortunately without interruption from inside the ballroom.

However, Fred had a different plan for their tryst. He led her down the sidewalk to the pool and around to the rear of the pool-house. The pool was closed for the season, but the lounge chairs were stacked at the pool-house wall under the eave. He removed one and set it on the ground.

Without saying more, he turned to Joanie and began slowly undressing her.

Joanie stiffened. Was he really going to screw here right here, al fresco, not twenty yards from the patio and all of those people who might wander out at any time. The night was balmy, and there was no moon. But it was crystal clear, and the sky exploded with twinkling stars. There was enough light to cast dim shadows and reveal shapes and murky figures. True, they were around the pool-house corner and out of direct view of the patio. Still, it would only take someone stretching their legs for a little fresh air or another amorous couple looking for privacy to discover her and Fred flagrante delicto in the starlight.

Joanie, stuttered, "Uh Fred, I don't know about..."

Fred put a finger to her lips while he replied before she could finish her objection, "Shhh, you will see. The danger of discovery is like the spice that raises a delicious meal to something exquisitely delightful. Relax."

Before Joanie could express her reservations further, she was naked and being helped down onto the lounge chair. Sex with the lieutenant had been a vigorous romp. Fred provided a more complex experience.

Fred meticulously played Joanie's body with the skill of a grand maestro. His fingers, tongue, and lips struck all the right keys. Slowly, gently at first, he found her natural rhythm. Then with increasing urgency, he coaxed her body into a wilder, more primitive tune before finally bringing it to a closing crescendo as she climaxed with shuddering tremors. Allowing her barely any rest to catch her breath, he then played an encore causing her body to pulsate with pleasure again and again to another crescendo.

Joanie had tried to stifle her verbal responses to this magnificent symphony being boldly played on her body. It wasn't that far to the patio, and any erotic groans or, even worse, shrieks of pleasure that might escape her would no doubt attract unwanted onlookers. Trying to keep the lusty sounds that kept bubbling up bottled inside her, just seemed to make her body's reactions redouble in intensity. But eventually she no longer cared. The whole dance floor could come out to watch, and she would not have even noticed the gaping audience.

When she thought she could take no more, she was on the verge of passing out she was sure, Fred finally mounted her. He proceeded to thoroughly plow and seed her private garden of carnal delight. She climaxed a third time under Fred's vigorous love making. This was done to her full satisfaction while she wailed delightedly in the night air.

They lay there gasping and moaning in mutual satisfaction. The hormonal heat soon dissipated, and their sweat covered bodies began to chill in the night air. They quickly redressed and, still tingling in the afterglow of sex, walked arm-in-arm back down the sidewalk toward the patio. The band was taking a break and people were starting to spill out on the patio for a smoke or some fresh air. Their illicit tryst had avoided an embarrassing discovery by the closest of shaves.

Joanie combed her fingers through her tousled hair trying to restore some air of decorum in public as they approached the milling crowd on the patio. Her legs felt limp as spaghetti, and her breathing and pulse still raced. She squeezed Fred's arm and gasped, "I am not ready to go back inside. I am going to go sit out at the gazebo for a minute. I need to catch my breath and recover some dignity before seeing people again."

She patted Fred's arm as she let go and started down the other sidewalk towards the gazebo. She turned back and bestowed a dazzling smile on Fred while whispering quietly, "Fred, you were right, the danger of discovery does make it more exciting."

Fred smiled back and said, "I told you so. I'll get us some drinks. What are you having?"

Joanie responded with a chirpy, "Gin and tonic. Whew, you better make it a double after that little session of ours."

Joanie walked unsteadily to the gazebo and sat down. Glancing around she realized she could look through a window and see where her husband, Harry, sat happily watching the football game with two friends. He was a good man. Didn't really deserve what she had done tonight, but it was really only sex. Just physical exercise like going to the gym. It didn't really hurt anything. She also certainly wanted to keep that boss of Harry's happy and not feeling vengeful against her husband.

As she looked in the window at her husband, Fred appeared next to her Harry. He warmly clapped his hand on her husband's shoulder, chatted a minute, no doubt discussing the leg injury and the football game on tv, and then moved on. A few minutes later Fred reappeared with a drink that he passed to her husband. The two men shook hands and Fred disappeared again.

A few minutes later Fred approached the gazebo carrying two cocktails. He arrived and passed Joanie her double gin and tonic.

Joanie sucked her drink greedily as the intense sex had left her quite thirsty.

She looked at Fred thoughtfully for a minute. Then she said quietly, "You are quite the right proper bastard, aren't you?"

Fred looked at her in surprise and asked curiously, "Me? What do you mean?"

Karen smiled sardonically, "Come on, you just fucked the wife, then hobnobbed with and shook hands with the cuckolded husband, and treated him to a drink." She faked an upperclass British accent and said, "Terribly sporting of you, wouldn't you say, old boy?"

Fred laughed, "Well, I guess so."

Fred raised his glass in a mock salute to the window, "In that vein, shall we toast your husband's induction into the fraternal society of cuckolded husbands?"

Joanie shook her head and sighed, "No. That is mean. I do not care to join in your toast at Harry's expense. He is my husband, after all."

Fred laughed and took a swig of his drink. He sat down across from Joanie with a smile.

He mused pleasantly, "The society of cuckolded husbands is an ancient guild that predates recorded time. Tonight, like many wives before you, you elected your husband to its hoary membership. That membership encompasses the wealthy and the pauper, the wise and the foolish, the king and the serf. Often the husbands never even realize that their wives have elected them to membership. Nor do they realize those same sweet wives of theirs merrily continue to pay their membership dues year after year. Have no fear, my dear, your husband is in good male company."

Joanie sipped her drink. She didn't like Fred's characterization of her husband. It made her angry, though her irritation was tempered by the all encompassing sexual glow she felt. My God, that man was good. Besides, she could not afford to earn Fred's displeasure in case that displeasure should rebound to the detriment of her husband. She let Fred's unflattering observations go unchallenged.

Fred was watching her thoughtfully. He smiled wolfishly and said, "Joanie, I must confess that I always have liked to fuck other men's wives. Men always like to best other men in any venue, be it sport, business, or sexual. When I am victorious in my little competition, the wife's conscience may nag her, her morals may be tarnished, but I always ensure her body's physical morale is exuberant when I finish."

He shrugged his shoulders dramatically and added, "And if the husband knows of his wife's naughty indiscretions, well, that is just lagniappe to be savored."

Joanie sighed murmuring irritably, "Well, I fear you have left this wife well fucked and with a guilty conscience. Like I said, you are a right proper bastard."

Fred laughed and exclaimed, "Delighted you enjoyed our little tete-a-tete!" Then he continued conversationally, "Joanie, you and I need to have a discussion."

Joanie shook her head dispelling her memories of the events of the night that had rapidly flashed in a wild jumble through her mind. She let her attention settle back on her husband again as he sat staring dumbly at the four hundred dollars in front of him. This was the fiscal return on his wife's evening of carnal adventures pursued while he watched football.

Joanie said softly to her husband, "Honey, why didn't you tell me you were up for a promotion?"

Harry glanced up in surprise, "Huh? A promotion? Oh, regardless of what was told to you, I am not, not really. My name is on the list for division manager, but the other two guys on the list are more senior and just as good as I am."

Harry sighed and offered aa discouraged explanation. "That's the problem with this company. They pay very well, do interesting work, and are probably one of the top firms in powerplants. Consequently, there are always a slew of well qualified people for every slot that opens up. There is a company policy that at least three candidates must be considered for each promotion, but I'm just a nominal courtesy name on the list this time around."

Harry shrugged and said, "Fred, I guess I can use his first name too now that he has screwed my wife, will announce who gets the slot at the four o'clock staff meeting Monday afternoon. It'll be at least another five or six years yet before I will really be seriously considered for a management slot."

Joanie nodded, murmuring, "Oh I see," as she thought about the situation.

She knew Harry really wanted a promotion into management. He was a skilled engineer, but the new crop of kids coming in from college were superbly versed in the artificial intelligence, software, and hardware that were proving crucial in upgrading and building new powerplants of all kinds. Harry was feeling left behind in the technical trenches. She knew his superb talents in trouble shooting and thorough understanding of powerplants were rare and appreciated talents. In management he could exploit those talents as well as his superb mentoring skills and excellent relationships with engineering staff, plant owners, contractors, and even regulatory officials. The division manager position was really where her husband belonged and where he would be happiest.

She glanced over at her sister who was watching intently and putting two and two together. As twins they had an almost intuitive grasp of what the other one was thinking and feeling. It wasn't quite telepathy, but it was sometimes scarily close. They exchanged mutual smiles of understanding.

Joanie turned back to her husband and said calmly, "Honey, I am going to meet Fred on Monday at noon at the Holiday Inn near the headquarters building. Don't worry, I have the situation well in hand. At four o'clock that afternoon, Fred will announce that you are the new division manager. I will also continue to meet him at noon at the Holiday Inn on each Monday whenever he is in town. He is swapping your promotion in exchange for a weekly hour or so with your wife. The promotion is something you really want and deserve, and I am delighted that I can provide it for you."

Karen pursed her lips thoughtfully but said nothing. An upset Harry blurted, "I can't let my wife screw my boss for my promotion."

Joanie looked at him quizzically. "Why not, honey? I just screwed him an hour ago for two hundred dollars as a lark. Might as well screw him again Monday for your promotion. Makes sense to me."

Karen jumped into the conversation teasing brightly, "Hmm Sis, you are certainly putting Harry's promotion on a solid, well-laid foundation." Then she addressed Harry in a crisp business-like tone, "I presume if my sister is putting out this much effort for you, it must be a really big promotion."

Harry looked befuddled but went ahead and explained. "Oh yeah, it is. The salary increase is large but the promotion to that level also comes with profit sharing. In good years your profit sharing check can exceed your annual salary. Joanie and I would go from well-to-do to really wealthy."

Karen glanced at her sister and said laughingly, "Well then, lay it on the line for the boss, Sis. It's the only smart thing to do."

Harry shook his head, "I don't know. It's a blow to a man's pride. I just don't know if I could tolerate having that rubbed in my face all the time."

Joanie smiled, "I understand, honey. Therefore, after tonight I will never mention it again. You will never know what I am doing, and I will ensure Fred keeps his mouth shut. Besides you are never around him; he works in a totally different building several miles from you. As far as you will ever know, I am not doing anything."

Harry looked unconvinced but was giving the proposal some further consideration. He really wanted that promotion. He had thought it out of reach, but now his wife was handing it to him on a silver platter. Well, it would obviously take quite a bit of personal physical effort on her part and would shred his pride. But it wasn't like either of them had arrived in this marriage as virgins; they had both enjoyed a string of lovers before marriage. What is throwing in one more lover really matter at this point in life?

That damn Fred Anderson with his good looks, suave manner, money, and charm just seemed to be able to bewitch the pants off women. If half the rumors were true, he had bedded a Turkish pasha's harem of other men's trophy wives.

Marital status, as Harry had learned to his dismay tonight, provided no protection for the lady once Fred decided to woo her. The women never seemed to hold it against him though, and Fred never promised what he couldn't deliver.

Joanie was a beautiful woman with a healthy enjoyment of the bedroom arts. Fred would not tire of her anytime soon like he did of many of his conquests. Joanie would be the boss' part-time mistress for quite a spell Harry suspected.

Then there was the realistic possibility that if he refused his permission for this... affair, pay-to-play, tryst, assignation, dalliance, or whatever you wanted to call it, there was nothing to stop Joanie from screwing Fred behind his back without his knowledge. With Fred's skill at bedding any woman he wanted, Harry knew there was always a realistic possibility his wife would simply take on his boss as her secret lover just for pleasure, regardless of what he said.

His wife might try to spare his feelings by not flaunting her sexual payments to the boss. Nevertheless, Harry knew that at lunchtime every Monday he would be very aware that his wife was laying out a bountiful banquet at which Fred would gloriously gorge until fred and his wife were both sated. There was no way around that fact, no matter how delicately his wife managed her affair. If others found out, which was probably inevitable given our gossip hungry world, he would be mortified but helpless to do anything. He would simply have to ignore the snickers, whispered conversations behind his back, and double ententes in friends' conversations..

Harry groaned with frustration. It was crazy, but his wife and her sister did make sense in a convoluted way. Still, it was a bitter pill for a man to swallow. Nevertheless, pragmatism was slowly overcoming pride.

As Harry contemplated his damned-if-you-do and damned-if-you-don't situation, Joanie wrestled her own demons. Since she was a little girl, Joanie always envisioned her conscience as an invisible little fairy princess named Samantha who sat on her right shoulder and whispered in her ear what good girls should and should not do. Tonight Samantha was throwing a hissy fit, jumping up and down on her shoulder, and screeching, "Liar, liar, pants on fire. You may be claiming to help your husband, but you are certainly looking forward to Fred fucking your brains out on Monday. Shame! Shame!"