Best Served Cold

"Sorry then," Stephen said. "Just playing a bit. I didn't know..."

"No problem. No harm, no foul," Tally said.

******

The next Friday after Sam told Stephen about what he had seen, Stephen was parked in front of Sam's house in a borrowed car that his wife wouldn't recognize. A little after 1 PM, Tally drove into the Teagues' garage with a younger man in the passenger seat. Stephen felt sick to his stomach, but he resisted the urge to rush out of his car immediately and confront the duo. Instead, he sat in the car reading one of his wife's Cussler novels and glancing at his watch. He wanted to catch the pair in the act.

At the 15-minute mark, Stephen got out of the car and slipped in the front door noiselessly. When he got inside, he realized he could have been banging a drum and probably not been heard with all the noise the duo was making.

When he got to his bedroom with the video app on his cellphone running and his heart pounding in his chest, he found the young man buried to the hilt in his wife's ass, something she had only done for him once before in their 23 years of marriage. They were both moaning and talking, with him telling her to take it hard and her chanting the word "yes" repeatedly. Stephen could only record about five seconds before he dropped the phone, rushed into the room and swung a roundhouse punch that neither Devon nor his wife saw coming as they were both mostly turned away from him. The blow connected solidly in the center of the man's face, breaking his nose and sending an explosion of blood into the air.

He shrieked in pain and surprise and fell back on the bed, his dick painfully ripping out of the woman's asshole as she joined the man in shrieking. She looked up to see the deranged face of her husband as he grabbed the younger man by the arm and head and swung him off the bed and onto the floor. He then stomped down twice on Devon's genitals, catching them solid the second time and causing the young man to scream and quickly throw up.

"No more, Stephen. Stop! You're killing him!" Tally yelled to her husband.

Probably because he was so used to following orders from his wife, Stephen actually stopped when his wife yelled at him, which might have kept him out of jail. He hesitated, looking at the small gun safe that he kept on the floor by the head of the bed. He growled unintelligibly, bent down and picked up his phone and stomped out of the room. He heard his wife sobbing uncontrollably as he left the house. Feeling at least as sick to his stomach as angry, he didn't stop.

Confusion reigned supreme in Stephen's brain as he got in his car. Many of his closest friends were the husbands of Tally's friends. He was far from ready to spill his guts about what he had just found out to anyone connected to his wife.

Rick the bartender saw the hollow eyes of the man as he sat down at the far end of the bar at the UNeeda Rest. The dead eyes of a man walking into a bar in the middle of the day screamed "cheating wife." Rick shook his head to clear his mind. Bartender as psychologist, the toughest part of his job, was about to start. He sighed as he walked over to his newest customer/client. He thought for the thousandth time that he wasn't getting paid enough.

"You want a double shot of something... neat, and I should keep them coming. Just fill in the blank for me. I'm Rick, by the way. And you are?" he queried.

His introduction caused the man to give him a sad smile. The man ordered Don Julio tequila. Shit, this afternoon just got tougher, Rick thought.

Rick was hoping the man was going to order some cheap bourbon, or maybe Crown Royal Canadian whisky. That would have meant he would vent his anger, get sloppy drunk, maybe cry a little and then been poured into a taxi and sent home. Those were the easier ones.

Tequila almost always meant the customer was going to be reflective... and mean. High-end tequila added introspective and... something bordering on serial killer creepy. Rick hated that type most. The more the customer grunted, the more Rick thought he was making horrendous plans in his head. Cross somebody like that and he might decide to take out a few people before going after his target.

"On the way, sir," Rick said, remembering not to use his usual cheerful bartender tone. He knew that tone wouldn't sit well with the man and didn't want to be irritating.

"I'm Stephen. Steve if you want shorter, or stupid fucking cuck if you want longer and more accurate. You are looking at one stupid motherfucking idiot, Rick."

"Let the games begin," Rick thought to himself. He poured a second double of Don Julio for himself and walked over to Steve.

Almost on cue, Stephen's cellphone rang. Rick watched as he looked at the screen, hit ignore and turned off the cause of the annoyance.

"You're smart enough to know that you're going to have to talk to her sooner or later," Rick said.

"Yeah, I know, but right now this is between a man and his bartender. It's a privileged conversation," Stephen said. "And I'll make it worth your while by giving you a consultation fee when we're done. But first, you'd better take my car keys."

It was only 9 PM, but Stephen had been drinking for seven hours when Rick called him a cab and sent him on his way home. Stephen was drunk but not excessively so.

Tally ran to him with open arms when he walked in the front door, but he quickly stopped her hug attempt with a proper NFL stiff arm to her chest. She let out an oomph when his hand contacted her chest and looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Stephen. I'm so sorry. I can't explain it, but I had to have him," Tally said.

"Did you really have to hurt him so badly? You broke his nose and might have crushed a testicle."

"I only hit him twice. I seriously considered pulling out my gun and shooting the little fucker. I also considered hitting you, as well, for the first time in our married life," Stephen asserted.

She reddened, but Stephen was in no condition to determine if the blush was from guilt or anger.

"How long?" he asked as she sat down on the sofa, leaving a cushion between them.

"How long have you been FUCKING HIM?"

"This was the second time..." she tried to lie before Stephen cut her off.

"Lying bitch! I don't know everything, but I know enough to know this was at least the third time, and I'm betting it's been going on much longer than that!" he screamed at her.

"You're drunk. I don't have to take shit from a drunk asshole," she responded back.

"I am drunk, but you're going to take shit from this drunk asshole because he's your husband and he's right!" Stephen said.

"Now... how long... and why?"

"We've only had sex five times, counting today. I swear. But as to why, I'm not really sure I can answer you," she said, cringing slightly as he glared at her.

"It's going to sound crazy to you, because it sounds crazy to me... and I'm living it. It's like he's got some kind of crazy control over me sexually. I mean... I start sweating, my heart starts beating like crazy and my pussy starts dripping. I don't know why, but it's like he can make my pussy start tingling just by looking at me.

"I met him at the beginning of the school year... and everything in my head just went haywire... along with everything in my pussy. I came on to him. I couldn't stop myself. I don't understand it."

"Wow. Which one of us has had too much to drink?" Stephen sneered. "That sounds completely unbelievable. You're telling me that you suddenly got hit by some kind of Martian Slut Ray and just had to have sex with that little fucker.

"By the way, who is that little fucker?"

Tally shifted uncomfortably in her spot. Stephen could see sweat on her forehead.

"I know it sounds nuts, but..." she started before drifting into silence.

"The little fucker whose nose I broke... who is he? And, by the way, did I crush his nuts beyond use?" Stephen asked.

"I'd rather not tell you who he is. You don't need to know," she said. "The doctor said you bruised his balls pretty good, but he should be good to go again in a few weeks."

"Shit. I knew I should have shot him. But the name, babe, I need the name," Stephen said. "He wronged me. I might not be done hurting him. I may never be done with him."

"Which is why you don't need his name. You've already hurt him enough," she clucked.

"Not even close, babe. Not even close," Stephen answered.

"So how do we put us back together?" Tally asked tentatively.

"I'm way too drunk to think about that now. Think I'll go to bed," he said.

Tally watched open-mouthed as Stephen went up to the guest room and closed and locked the door.

Stephen staggered downstairs the next morning with a hangover. He still looked more rested than his wife as she sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. She started to speak but Stephen held up his right index finger and shuffled over to a small basket of meds on the kitchen counter, grabbed three aspirin, a cup of coffee and sat down.

"The floor is yours, my formerly faithful wife," he snarked.

Tally grimaced. She wanted badly to come back at her husband, but realized his announcement was completely accurate. She hesitated, trying to sort through the myriad thoughts in her brain.

"Let me make it easier for you," Stephen said. "When last we talked, you were telling me that your pussy was telling you to have sex with some young guy and totally ignore the fact that you're married. That about right?"

Tally blushed hard, grimaced again and dropped her head. Stephen's comment was spiteful, but delivered in his usual mind-mannered way. She wondered if that was a good sign for her, or it was just a matter of his being hungover.

"Yes. That's sort of right," she all but whispered. "I told you the truth... I can't explain what's going on. But that doesn't mean I don't love you or love you any less. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy making love to you..."

"It's just that he's so much better, isn't it?" Stephen said.

Tally debated trying to hold back on her answer to make it more palatable for her husband. Then she remembered that he had already caught her in a lie the day before, and that didn't turn out well. Somehow, he knew something of her affair, but she had no clue exactly how much. She thought the painful truth still seemed to be a better option than another lie.

"I wouldn't say, 'so much better,' but with everything I feel toward him... yeah, it was better," she said, deciding at the last second to tell him "most" of the truth.

Stephen noted through his hangover that Tally couldn't look him in the eye when she answered. He realized that she was pulling her punch, trying to spare his feelings. Telling him that she had the best sex ever with her lover would be soul-crushing, just as it was when he easily figured out she was gilding the lily.

He looked at her with the saddest look of disappointment she had ever seen. She fought hard to hold back tears.

"So... tell me how it started. You met him, your pussy tingled and you just got down on your knees and sucked his dick?" Stephen growled.

"We went to lunch and I... I was all over him. He told me he had a roommate, so I had him come back to our house..."

"And you fucked him in our bed... our marital bed," Stephen interrupted. "Did you fuck him in our bed every time?"

Tally looked down and mumbled affirmatively.

"Did he fuck your ass every time?" he asked quietly.

"No. Just the last two times," the woman answered just as quietly.

"Twice. That's once more than I got in 23 years of marriage. Damn," he mumbled.

"So you're telling me that in just a few weeks' time you went from being a perfect wife to... being a slut for another man... being owned by a man not your husband."

Tally could only nod while tears fell quietly from her eyes.

"Why the fuck are you crying? You apparently got what you wanted... what you needed, while I just plain got fucked," Stephen rasped.

"Who is he, Tal? You can tell me now, or I can find out later, and when I do, it's not going to be pretty. Telling me now might mitigate some negative effects," Stephen said.

"His name is Devon Blankenship. He's a TA... a teaching assistant for Dr. Petram," Tally answered. "It's not his fault, Stephen. Like I told you, I freaked. I came on to him. We had lunch... and I kept touching him, held his hand, even kissed him. Hell, any guy would have done me after I made it that clear I wanted him. God, I was so hot for him."

Tally had lifted her eyes as she spoke, and by the end of her answer Stephen could see that his wife was getting aroused at the memory. This was as bad as it could be, he thought. In his mind, the slim chance that his marriage wouldn't end in divorce just got even slimmer.

He got up and refilled his coffee mug, more for something to do than because he wanted more caffeine. The first mug had helped clear his head, but his stomach was roiling from a combination of the hangover and Tally's statements.

"I know right now you're thinking divorce," Tally said. "But we've been together so long we finish each other's sentences. I know how you feel about fidelity... exactly the same way I did until... this. But I love you, Stephen. You're exactly who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don't want a divorce. I'll get help. We can get counseling."

"But can you tell me you're not going to run right back to this Devon character. You say you can't resist him," Stephen said.

"I'll get help. Don't leave me. Please," Tally cried.

"I'll try, Tally, but you've told me you met him and slept with him within days and didn't even give me a thought," Stephen said. "You never even felt guilty, did you?"

She shook her head while she continued crying.

Stephen stayed in the house with Tally but slept in the guest room at night, despite his wife's pleas for him to return to the master bedroom. He rebuffed his wife when she tried to initiate sex one evening about a week later.

"Aw, Stephen, it's been a while for us," she said, "Can't we? No strings attached. I promise."

"Strings or not, babe, it's going to be a while before I can ever forget the visual of your lover buried in your ass up to his balls. Every time I think about that it makes me want to punch you... and I never thought that would be something I'd ever think about you," Stephen said.

Tally grimaced. It was something she was doing more each day.

"Can we at least snuggle tonight while we watch a movie," she pleaded.

"Yeah, I think I can at least manage that," Stephen said.

The two watched "A Walk in the Clouds," an early Keanu Reeves movie, with Tally tucked into Stephen's right side on the family room sofa. He noted to himself how much he was going to miss moments like this.

Stephen's anger had morphed into sadness. He didn't want to have Tally served, the same way he didn't want to be a cuckold. Rick the bartender had warned him that performing that act might cause his wife to go completely off the deep end and finish any chance of a reconciliation, but he had to cover his ass and get the process started. Rick also had given him the card of the divorce attorney he had called last week.

Stephen considered not answering his phone when Tally called soon after he was notified of the service, but he knew that would have been cowardly. He gritted his teeth, sighed and answered.

"Hey, Tally," wasn't very clever, but he wasn't trying to be.

"I thought you said you were going to try to give us a chance to be us again," she whined. "It's only been two weeks."

"I am giving us a chance, babe. The filing was just to get things started. We can always stop it if... if... we reconcile," Stephen explained. "But if we don't, things will be underway, so it won't take very long to get it finished up.

"At this point, I don't think you have any right to question my motives."

Tally knew that Stephen was not letting her use her best weapon for getting a reconciliation by his continuing to sleep in the guest bedroom at night. He continually rebuffed her efforts to initiate sex, although the two did start exchanging some soft kisses every now and then. They had started to touch each other with feeling, and their conversations were again comfortable and broad-ranging, as they had been throughout their marriage until Stephen caught her cheating.

Although Stephen didn't think Tally seeing a psychologist would change his mind about a divorce, he had made the offer so he followed through, but part of the deal was that her therapist had to be able to give Stephen her thoughts and concerns. After the second session, Dr. Julie Stivers gave him the news he had expected, but hoped against hearing.

"She's functional, but completely delusional when it comes to this Devon person. She has completely bought into her own fantasy that she cannot control her sexual attraction to him. Simplified, this 'amazing attraction' is her way of giving herself permission to have an affair without accepting personal responsibility for her actions. At best, she thinks it will enable you to accept her affair; at worst she thinks it will give you an out to be able to stay married to her despite the affair.

"This whole thing probably started when your son left for college: the old empty-nest thing that affects some women really badly. Your son didn't need her. She started to feel old and unattractive. Yada, yada, yada. Except your wife is completely aware that she is still an attractive woman, and she could still have any man she wants.

"I'm guessing that you're the type of husband who usually lets your wife have her way... eventually. And you've expressed to her that you would never tolerate cheating. Cheaters never figure they're going to get caught, but just in case, she worked a way around it... since she knows how much you love her."

"Yeah, I figured it was something like that," Stephen said. "Damn."

******

Devon Blankenship wasn't one to take defeat easily. He had no choice the day his lover's husband caught him and Tally in bed fucking and clocked him into near-unconsciousness before stomping on his testicles. The woman had driven him to the emergency room. The emergency room doctor had told him that his bruised testicles would heal in several weeks and there should be no future problems.

Devon knew what his response would be when he was fully healed. He would fuck that MILF again and rub it in her fucking husband's face. This time they would fuck in the safety of his apartment, but Devon would video the proceedings and send it to her husband. He would fuck her and come in all three holes... and make sure the MILF had an amazing time doing it. He would show her husband who OWNED this woman.

He was all smiles went he walked into the business school office ostensibly to leave some information for the dean. He saw Tally flush and break into a huge smile as she leaped up from the chair behind her desk. He knew she was restraining herself from coming around the desk to give him a kiss.

"Devon! How great to see you again!" the woman enthused, her hand twisting a lock of her hair. "How can I help you today?"

Devon got his business out of the way, then quietly asked Tally how she was doing.

"Not divorced yet, but we haven't had sex since Stephen caught us," she whispered back. "Are you all healed up?"

"Doc says I'm good to go. What say we do lunch on Friday, then we head back to my place? Much safer environment for me. Miss me?" he responded.

"I'm sorry for what happened, but we can talk more on Friday. I've missed you, young man," she said.

Devon left and Tally sat back in her chair. She squeezed her legs together and enjoyed the sticky feeling coming from her pussy.

******

Stephen wasn't expecting Devon Blankenship to contact him directly, especially at his place of employment. In fact, he expected to be contacted by the police within days after he beat the young man almost senseless when he caught Devon and his wife in bed fucking. He was surprised when that didn't happen, and figured that maybe the man was too embarrassed to involve the police, so when he saw an e-mail with an attachment from the man a little more than a month later, his curiosity was piqued.