Up in Michigan

Janet had never expressed any dissatisfaction with me, or our life together. In fact the opposite was true. We were with each other every moment of our lives, except for the time we are at work. And she always rushed home to be with me just as I hurried home to be with her.

But Wirt was big and super-confident and he had fucked them all. There was just something in his assumption that every woman wanted to submit to him. Maybe it was pheromones, or that alpha-male attitude, but whatever it was I had eye-witness proof that it was effective.

And now he was targeting my wife!!

My stomach was roiling as I drove home. I just knew that I was going to lose her. And the thought was killing me.

Nevertheless, I deal with matters as they arise. Janet and I have always talked honestly and openly about important things. So tonight we were going to have one of THOSE kind of discussions even if it was going to make me sound like a paranoid wimp.

I got home first. She was a couple of minutes behind me. She looked tired. But she works a lot harder than I do. All of that interfacing with dissatisfied customers tends to take it out of you.

I had picked up sushi from Crave on the way home and I had it lying on a platter with a couple of ice cold Asahi silver bullets.

She saw what was waiting and her eyes lit up. She is a sucker for sushi. She said, "Let me get out of my things and I will see YOU outside on the patio."

It was a warm October day and it would be a shame to waste the sunshine. We would probably not see it again for five dreadful Michigan months. So I picked up our feast and transferred it to the outdoor table.

She came out fresh and jaunty, dressed in a peasant blouse and yoga pants that showed off her beautiful hips and gorgeous ass. As far as I was concerned, she might be the mother of a fifteen year old but she still had the hottest body in the Midwest.

I started right in. I said, "There is a serious matter that I need to talk about."

Janet is an intelligent and sensitive woman. She could tell that something was troubling me. So she switched to steely in an instant. It was a little disconcerting how quickly she could focus.

I said, "I just met with Bill Wirt to terminate his contract. The meeting was as unpleasant as you might imagine. The thing I want to discuss occurred as he was leaving. It was very disturbing and we need to resolve it.

Something passed across her face. I thought "oh shit – he's already been there!!"

I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, "I don't know any better way to say this. So I will just come out with it. We have always been honest with each other and that is why I have faith in you and our marriage."

She gave me a loving smile and took my hand the way women do to communicate connection.

I continued, trying to convey seriousness with my tone of voice, "He was very angry when he left. And in his anger he told me that he planned to – in his words – "fuck you and make you into his personal slut" as his revenge for us severing our ties with him.

"He said that there was no way I could stop him. He has always been the type of guy who defines himself by his sexual conquests. And I think he is going to try to add you to his list."

Janet gasped. Rather than turning pale with guilt she sat there getting redder and redder as she sat there. I could see that I had lit the fuse on her Irish temper and she was about to explode.

She is wildly passionate underneath her controlled exterior. And occasionally the control slips. When it does she goes berserk. This was one of those moments. She was wild with rage. She spluttered for a couple of seconds and then she said, "I'm going to kill him!!"

I thought to myself, "That sounds like a confession to me!!" I was overwhelmed by grief.

Her sudden change in demeanor surprised even me. The jaunty and loving wife of a few seconds earlier had been replaced by a certifiable nut case.

She said, "The jerk has called me every day since Monday asking me to meet him. I have told him in unmistakable terms that I was not buying what he was selling. But, he has no shame and he is utterly relentless. It is like he just doesn't hear me when I tell him that I am not interested.

"I should have told you. But up until now it was only mildly irritating– not important in the great scheme of things. I just assumed that he would get the message sooner or later and leave me alone.

"Now I can see that there is more to this than the adolescent hijinks of some aging horn-dog. This disrespects both of us. It implies that you are a weakling and that I am a whore. So what do we do about him?"

The blissful wave of relief that washed over me would have made the Fukushima tsunami seem like a minor disturbance in a bathtub.

All I could think about was how much I loved my fierce and strongminded wife.

Janet was beginning to calm down. But she was still stalking around the patio like she was looking for something – or somebody - to hit. I had never seen her that mad.

But the unmitigated effrontery of a guy like Wirt can do that to a smart woman.

Finally she calmed down enough to start eating. But she was still fuming. It was obvious that her mind was working on the problem.

Then suddenly she slammed down her beer, leaned forward, grabbed my hand, and said, "I have an idea. How much do you trust me?"

I said, "With my very life." There was an unexpected tremble in my voice. I was still stirred by the unmistakable proof of fidelity that she had just given me. She had put a lot of ghosts to rest.

She said, "So maybe Bill Wirt and I should go out on a date?"

That statement didn't actually kill me. Although it caused my heart to miss several beats.

She gave me one of her impish grins. I know that she has a lot of Irish larceny in her soul. And I could see that she had something planned for Mr. Wirt.

S

he grinned wickedly and said, "How about if I get all dressed up and spend the evening making the guy think that he is going to get what he wants.

"Then when he makes his move I tell him all of the ways that he could never measure up to you as a man."

I loved it - It was by far the stupidest plan I had heard in my life. But it was pure Janet.

Janet is very proud and brave. She could not just simply let an insult like that slide. She would have to exact some form of direct payback. And as far as she was concerned the more hands-on and spectacular the better.

Of COURSE it appalled me. There were major problems. And I outlined each and every one of them.

First of all she would be alone with the asshole. And she had no defense against the sort of physical attack that he was capable of. Second, she had no idea how lowdown and dirty the guy was. Especially when it came to achieving his ends. And worst of all, there was Murphy's Law. That little axiom that dictates that something unforeseen would turn an attempt at personal payback into an unmitigated disaster.

She smiled at me indulgently and said, "You know that I wasn't a virgin when we got together. I have years of experience handling creeps like Wirt. And he will never touch me. Not as long as I have this."

She rose gracefully went into the house and came back out with her Asp. She laid it on the table with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

She is one of those women who hate being protected by a man – not that I would be very good at it anyhow. So she spent time with a personal trainer learning how to use a fighting baton. It is two feet of lethal force packaged into eight compact inches. She said, "I'll have this little beauty in my purse and I just HOPE that he tries something physical."

She was right. Janet is not a shrinking violet. In fact she is ferocious. And her baton work during her training sessions was scary.

Nevertheless, I am a firm believer in Karma. And I did not have a good feeling about going out of our way to poke that narcissistic mother-fucker.

Janet has always been the brave one. She's a woman and she has never had to face the kind of physical bullying the average guy gets growing up. Accordingly, when it came to confronting bad people she never learned the lesson of discretion versus valor.

I actually argued with her for quite a while. But her willful little mind was made up. Wirt had demeaned both me and her and she wanted to pay him back in kind.

So, the following Monday she showed up from work looking like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. I said, "He called didn't he?" Wirt only called her at work.

She said merrily, "Indeed he did and next Friday we are going out for a little dinner with a large helping of humiliation on the side. He wanted to do it tonight but I told him that I couldn't get away from you any earlier than Friday. It will give us time to finalize our plans."

I said, "I am only going along with this because you can't get it out of your head. But I have to tell you that that I am uneasy."

She laughed merrily and said, "I know you are a kind and gentle man."

I was hoping the phrase "hopeless pussy" wasn't in the subtext somewhere.

"And I know that you are willing to let bygones-be-bygones"

With luck that wasn't a, "too chicken-shit to challenge him" statement.

"But I just can't let it go. The minute he questioned my faithfulness and referred to me by the "S" word I knew that I had to call him out."

Maybe it's a cultural thing. My wife is Irish. Her fiery temper makes her confront anybody over anything. Me – I'm Polish and with the Germans on one side and the Russians on the other my people leaned ages ago to let sleeping dogs lie.

Plus, I had already had my helping of revenge. But I had done it in my own quiet way. Between our pulling our business - and a few phone calls that I had made on Monday - Wirt was bankrupt. He just didn't know it yet.

The plan was simple. She would meet him for dinner at Andiamos. She would be dressed to kill.

Then she would flirt with him to lead him on.

When he finally made his pitch – and there was no doubt that he would make it because Janet could seduce a stone idol - she planned to tell him what she really thought of him and throw a drink in his face.

I was actually hoping it would be hot coffee.

Then she would make a production of joining me as I arrived from the parking lot for a hug and a kiss before we exited stage-left. It would be a dénouement fitting of a Shakespearean play.

The plan seemed foolproof. It was in a public place. Wirt wouldn't try anything in front of a lot of witnesses. And once Janet threw down the gauntlet she would be out of harm's way before he could retaliate.

Best of all, it would put a lovely coda on my relationship with the asshole.

But I still had some conditions. I obviously couldn't be seen until the grand finale but I wanted eyes on the target at all times. So it had to be at Andiamos since the bartender there was a pretty good friend of mine. Of course I saw him a lot and I am a very good tipper.

And I had to be standing-by nearby. I couldn't be sitting in the parking lot but I could sit in the museum lot around the corner. I was counting on a call from my bartender buddy Mario when it was time for me to make my appearance on stage.

I was sitting with Dean working on his school project when she came down the stairs dressed for her date.

I actually grunted with sheer wonder.

She was a stunning montage of copper hair, porcelain skin, emerald eyes and bright red sensual mouth. She had gone all out with the makeup and hair and her high cheekbones with their spray of freckles and her huge green eyes were captivating.

She has always had superb legs, slim and beautifully muscled. And she was showing them off in a dress that ended several inches above her knee. Walking in 4 inch heels only served to emphasize that gorgeous round butt.

But the newest addition to her array of tools has been a much larger pair of tits. Those came courtesy of the kids. When we met she had exquisite little B cups. But once Sarah arrived Janet blossomed into a full round pair of Cs, which were so high on her chest and tightly gathered that bra-or-no-bra she had natural cleavage.

They almost didn't seem real. Yet, from extensive tactile exploration I can attest that every inch and pound of them is genuine.

She posed at the bottom of the stairs and said, "You like?" It was our catch phrase. She was using it to remind me exactly who that exquisite body belonged to.

I was overwhelmed by her beauty. While at the same time a bolt of mindless insecurity shot through me.

I knew every aspect of the motivation and planning but it still gave me a pang of pure jealousy to see her dressed for another man.

And she was so softly feminine I couldn't imagine how she could ever be able to pull-off what she was planning to do.

But underneath all of her pure sex appeal my wife is a warrior.

I went over to hug her. I knew better than to kiss her and spoil the intricate makeup. Her perfume hit me. And it made me want to dump her over the back of the couch, grab those shapely hips and fuck her brains out.

Of course that would have necessitated years of therapy for my son, who was standing right next to me, and she would have killed me afterward. But at that particular moment, the idea almost seemed worth it.

She gave me a bright smile. I could see that she was relishing this. It reminded me that the Native-Americans turned their captives over to the women – that is - if they wanted them properly tortured. Women are ruthless when you mess with their families.

She said, "I'll see you in a couple of hour's sweetie. Please don't be late." Then she gave me an impish Irish grin and closed the door.

I heard her car start up and drive away. I gathered my coat and my Kindle, told Dean to behave himself while I was gone and walked out into the lovely fall evening.

Her Taurus SHO's tail lights were just disappearing up our street as I got into my F150 King Ranch. The Mustang that I had when I was single was long-gone. But that truck had the look-and-feel of a luxury vehicle with sports car handling.

I knew it would take two or three hours for Janet to properly drop the hammer on Mr. Wirt. So I eased the 150 into the deserted parking lot behind the Dearborn historical museum. I tuned the excellent sound system to the local classical music station and opened my newly acquired copy of the latest Jack Reacher novel.

In my dreams I am six five and 250 pounds of rock hard muscle. So Major Reacher and I have a lot in common.

I was imagining what was going on in the restaurant. I was sure that Janet's stunning good-looks would make Wirt randy as a Billy goat. I was also sure that Janet would be giving him the full treatment.

She is a bit of a tease anyhow. Flirting is as natural for a beautiful woman as preening is for a peacock. After all, a woman like Janet has been wrapping guys around her little finger since she has been a teen. So manipulating men is as natural for her as throwing rocks is for little boys.

Just as I was getting into the good part my phone buzzed. It was only an hour and a half since Janet left so I said "hello" in a puzzled tone. It was Mario.

He said with anxiety in his voice, "Pete - you asked me to keep an eye on your wife and I might have some bad news.

"She was having dinner with a guy and I think he put something in her drink. At least he took her out of here about fifteen minutes ago and she didn't look too good.

"At first I thought he was just helping her to the bathroom but I think they went out the back door. I don't see either of them anywhere in here now – and I already checked."

That fired an electric shock of dread through me. I said, "Do you have any idea where they are going?"

Mario said, "No idea but if you can hold on I can find out what he is driving."

He came back a couple of anxious minutes later and said, "Danny valeted the guy and he says it's a gold Escalade."

That figured – it was predestined that Wirt would be driving a motorized penis.

Mario added, "Good luck buddy. I never thought the cocksucker would pull a trick like THAT."

I knew it!! If mere mortals mess with the Gods they get butt-fucked.

I tossed the Kindle into the passenger seat, fired up the 150's big engine and went rocketing out of the parking lot. All I could think was, "Karma's a heartless bitch and Mr. Murphey is never wrong." I shouldn't have let Janet try such a harebrained stunt.

I was frantically beating up my mind trying to figure out where he would take her. I knew that I was doomed if he had a motel reservation. There were just too many of them in the area.

But Wirt didn't strike me as somebody who would plan ahead. He had animal cunning but no concept of strategy. So I was trying to think of a secluded place that might grab his attention. He probably wouldn't want to go too far.

There were a lot of trees just to the north around Henry Ford's Fairlane estate and it is the most secluded spot for miles. So that seemed like the obvious place to start. If I was wrong Janet was going to pay the price. But I had to do something.

I said a little prayer and mashed the accelerator down. Luckily it was after 9 PM and the roads, which would be packed with traffic in the day, were more-or-less deserted.

I headed north and made one of those nonsensical Michigan U turns and started back along Evergreen. The U of M Dearborn campus was on my right. It looked deserted on a Friday night.

I made the turn off of Evergreen onto Fair Lane Drive. That led to the Henry Ford estate itself. It was pitch black down that road, even though it was right in the middle of a big metropolitan area. There was some residual glow from the hunter's moon but there were no streetlights.

I slowed to 25 miles per hour looking for any sign of the Escalade. I thought I saw a shape as I passed an access road leading off into a deserted area between the Fairlane estate and Evergreen. I turned into that little lane and there it was.

He had pulled into a circular drive that must have once fronted a building. It was probably a former outbuilding on the estate. But it was just a large clearing in the woods now - with a single vehicle parked at the top of the circle.

Wirt would have seen my lights if the Escalade's windows weren't so completely steamed up. I picked up my phone and dialed 911. I told them exactly what was going on and where to send the cops. Then I got out of the truck and went to rescue my wife.

I could see the Escalade bouncing around and there were the recognizable rumpety-banging sounds of sex coming from the back seat area. I grabbed the door, and threw it open. It broke my heart.

The first thing I heard was a very wet slapping sound. Wirt's hairy butt was rapidly moving up and down between Janet's legs.

She was spread wide for his attentions, with one foot resting on the front console and one over the back of the rear seat.

Her toes, with their bright red polish, were curled in ecstasy as her tightly flexed legs held her pussy rigid to receive his enthusiastically plunging dick.

She was making explosive, "Oh-oh-oh!! Ahh-ahh-ahh!! - Fuck me!!" noises as he pounded her. The sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex was pervasive.

I didn't say anything I simply reached back and punched his exposed ball sac as hard as I could. He let out a roar of pain and turned around to look over his shoulder. I was pulling my arm back to hit him there again.

He scrambled off of Janet and onto the ground next to the car. He was standing there in his bare feet, naked from the waist down. And he was sporting a hard-on that made him look ridiculous.

I could hear Janet utter a plaintive little noise of dissatisfaction and mumble, "Where'd you go?!! Come back and finish me!!" Then she seemed to pass out.