tagLoving WivesThree Times Cheat

Three Times Cheat


Dear reader. I have written three very short "short stories" which I hope you will enjoy. There are no link between them and should be considered as separate pieces.

The Revealing Portrait

John sat on his seat, 6A, looking out on the clouds floating below him. He had a satisfied smile on his face, thinking about his lover he had left only a few hours earlier. The plane was about to descend to his home airport and a short taxi ride later he would pull up to his house and be greeted by his lovely wife. Coming home to a loving wife made his life perfect.

He had it made; he had planned it so carefully, it was fool proof from discovery. No telephone calls, no e-mails, always having dinner and with several other persons present. Never going into the elevator with her, never dancing more than one or, at a maximum, two dances so if a friend of his wife or himself for that matter accidentally saw him, they would never suspect anything going on. Never meeting her in his own town. Perfect, he was happy.

He was a bit surprised when his wife opened the door, no kissing, no hugging, no smile. Just a curt; "Come in to our living room, please."

On one of the easy chairs sat a man with a briefcase on his knees.

"John, this is my attorney Nigel Kennan," to Kennan she said, "My husband John Peterson," and she gave Mr. Kennan a slight nod.

Mr. Kennan rose up, handed me a brown envelope and said, "Mr. John Peterson, you are served!"

"You can leave now Mr. Kennan," she said, "My husband is not a violent person. He needs an explanation and I want to give him that alone please."

"You are divorcing me, aren't you?" I said, "What has happened; I thought we had a good thing going between the two of us, with our lovely kids?"

"I thought so also, you most likely know more of what has happened, than me," she replied.

"Do you remember what you told me two years ago, about your routine when coming into an hotel room? You told me the first thing you did was open up your suitcase, take the portrait of me and our kids and put it on the nightstand. You said it was comforting to look at me before going to sleep and the first thing in the morning to look at. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I still do," I replied.

"Do you? Open your suitcase and take the portrait out and put it on the table between us please."

I did as she asked, but could not unfold it. It was stuck. I looked at her with a questioning expression.

She smiled a sad smile at me and said, "Six months ago I had an uneasy feeling. I took your portrait and put one drop of glue on each of the two corners and pressed them together, the portrait has not been opened in at least the last six months. Rather revealing, don't you think? You could not look at me with another woman in your bed, could you?"

I could not look her in the eyes and say she was wrong.

The End -- first story


My wife told me she had agreed to join her friend Kelly for a week to Aruba. According to her, Kelly who is a farmer's wife outside town, needed to get away for a few days and she wanted someone to accompany her.

Kelly was OK, I could like her, but her farmer husband was a pain in the ass, so we never socialized. I did not object to her proposal and offered to drive her to the airport. She told me not to bother. It was a night flight, she would take her car and pick up Kelly on the way. They would leave next Saturday late evening and return early Sunday morning one week later.

She phoned Sunday afternoon, she and Kelly had settled nicely into the hotel.

She phoned Monday and Tuesday evening, she and Kelly had had wonderful days in the sun. Wednesday afternoon Kelly's husband called and asked for my wife. I told him she was on holiday this week.

"Since your wife was Kelly's best friend," he said, "I thought it would be best for her to be informed by me what happened to Kelly yesterday, before reading about it in the paper. Kelly was killed in a car crash yesterday afternoon."

Before I could summon myself from the shock and say my condolences, he cut the call.

My wife continued her evening calls, telling me what she and Kelly were doing and how they enjoyed themselves. Friday she even told me how she looked forward to seeing me Sunday morning.

She must have arrived very late. When I woke up Sunday morning she was fast asleep next to me in the bed. I crept out of bed, went downstairs and made a nice breakfast for her which I served on a tray when she woke up.

She thanked me and told me she was happy to be home.

I asked her, "Was Rupert happy to see Kelly back?"

"Yes he was, as usual he was up very early and was very happy to see her," she replied.

"Of course, her resurrection must have pleased him greatly," I said.

"Resurrection? What do you mean?" she queried.

"Well, Rupert must have been extremely relieved, because he called here on Wednesday and told me Kelly died in a car crash on Tuesday afternoon."

My wife choked on her breakfast and became very pale.

The End -- second story.

Coincidental? She Thought Not

June and Fred came over one evening for a drink. My wife Cora is the type of person who likes to pry into other people's business. They had not been given their first gin and tonic before she asked them;

"How is Judy doing after her divorce?"

June looked a bit sad at us and replied, "She shouldn't have left Martin, it is not so easy for a single mom with two young children. She insists she is coping well though."

"She is doing very well," Fred interrupted, "She is quite clear about not missing Martin at all. He was not good for her. You know, the younger generation is very outspoken, she as much told me he was always half drunk and did not make a good partner for her, or a father for the kids. He absolutely performed poorly in bed."

"Oh you men, what happens in the bedroom is the only thing you think about," June and Cora almost simultaneously said.

"Well, not us, we are over seventy both of us," I carefully said, "But Judy is still young, only forty-two, she surely needs some bedroom attention?"

Fred laughed and said, "She is getting it!"

"Fred, do you know something I don't?" June asked, "What do you know? Has she a new boyfriend or suitor?"

"No, not like that," he replied, "She has a fuck buddy who takes care of her needs and is very satisfied with the present situation. I don't know who the guy is, so don't ask. He probably lives in Aspen, because she has asked me to borrow our cabin in Aspen every third midweek for the last three months. I think he sees him there. Now are you satisfied June?"

I quickly intervened, saying, "Judy is a grown woman and has the right to have a private love life. I think all of us should let this discussion die here and now."

But you don't know my wife Cora, she was smelling blood, and wanted to know more. June was also evidently not prepared to let the matter die, and said quite forcefully to Fred, "Please tell all you know, I'm sure you know more than you have told us so far."

"All right," he said, "I'll tell you all I know, but then as Mike suggested, we drop the matter and do not talk about Judy for the rest of the evening, is that agreeable?"

"Yes," both of the women replied.

"Judy has told me that she has a bed partner who gives her much satisfaction. She even told me that he, after these three or four meetings with her, had given her more pleasure than Martin had given during their whole married life. She tells me that there is no future with this guy, so she enjoys the moments she have with him as long as it lasts. He is married, she even laughed at me when she said he was one year older than me and he has two children older than herself. That's it ladies, that's all I know."

The rest of the evening was passed in a relaxed atmosphere, but the minute June and Fred were out of the front door, Cora sat down opposite me, looked hard at me and said, "You have been to our cabin in Aspen, which happens to be next to Fred's, every third midweek this winter, you are married with two children older than Judy and you are one year older than Fred."

"Coincidental dear Cora," I replied, "Just coincidental."

Her eyes shot daggers at me, she slowly removed her wedding band and put it down on the table between us and said, "I think not."

The End -- last story

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