Greener Grass

My usual admonitions. I write for my own enjoyment with the hope that a few people will appreciate my efforts. Everyone engaged in sex (of which there is very little in this story) is over 18 years old. Names of characters similar or the same to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

To the Bozo that commented to my last story that I am a happy cuckold and my wife is a cheating slut, nothing could be farther from the truth. I am a romantic at heart so if you're looking for a BTB story, this isn't one of them.

I apologize in advance to those folks who offer their thanks or constructive criticisms but thanks to the sociopathic knuckle draggers who debase themselves with farcical comments I no longer read them.

*****

As deputy warden at one of the state's correctional facilities, I usually work a 9AM to 5 PM shift. It is a comfortable, relatively stress-free job, unlike thirty-four years ago when I started with the department. Back then I was just a corrections officer or as the public likes to call us as, jail guard. Over the course of my career I received my B.S. in sociology and an M.B.A. In management. It took me over seven years to achieve those goals but working night shifts allowed me to earn more credits than a normal part-time student.

My wife, Linda, had been very supportive throughout and, without that support, I wouldn't have risen through the ranks as quickly as I had. Linda has a degree in business but postponed her career to be a stay-at-home mom for our two daughters, Elizabeth and Nicole. Beth is now twenty-six and pregnant with our first grandchild, while Nicky is a senior, majoring in computer science at a state university.

As can be expected when housing almost two thousand inmates, many of them violent felons, serious problems arise from time to time and today was one of those times. A member of one of the Latino gangs got shanked on his way out of the mess hall. A riot broke out and afterwards the Latino's went after the white guy that did the stabbing, along with his Aryan brothers.

The warden, Mike Zanacelli, was away on vacation so that left me holding the bag. When the dust settled and everyone was in lockdown, three inmates and two officers were in County General with non-life-threatening injuries but the shanked inmate was in ICU in critical condition. Mike was due back on Wednesday and no one would be happier to see him than me. Mike had no intention of retiring any time soon and I had no ambition to be warden, here or anywhere else. At 57 years old my only ambition was to put in my papers when I turned sixty and sail into the proverbial sunset.

Considering the thirty-minute commute that was facing me and the time needed to freshen up and change clothes, I was going to be very late getting to my wife's company Christmas party. Linda had gone back to work when Nicky went to off to pre-school. She worked her way up the corporate ladder quickly and was now the senior adjuster for an international insurance company that specialized in risky policies. She occasionally had to do some work in the field but her main function was to train new adjusters and review and approve claim assessments.

She's fifty-four and we have been married 31 years. If you do the math you will note that we were married fairly young and neither one of us had much experience with the opposite sex. Linda was raised in a religious household and only had one serious relationship before we met. On the other hand, I had just three sexual relationships, counting a drunken blowjob after a party..., and yes, I was the recipient.

Linda and I had an active sex life, not vanilla but not very adventurous. I had no complaints, I was content. However, after Nicky was born our sex life did not resume after the usual recuperation time and three months later, I still hadn't gotten laid. That's when I got stupid.

Instead of addressing the problem and seeking professional help, I went to a retirement party, got pretty drunk and wound up in the front passenger seat of a female subordinate's SUV. The picture that Linda received a week later was pretty grainy but there was no doubt that it was me getting ridden by a topless blonde woman.

I won't humiliate myself by describing the groveling, begging and pleading that I did so as not to have her divorce me, but I don't regret a minute of it, now. She finally agreed to counseling and the biggest stumbling block was convincing her that it was only that one time and that I had been immediately ashamed of what I had done. However, during one of our therapy sessions she admitted that she had cut me off after Nicolle was born, and why.

We had always wanted at least two children but when Linda conceived the second time she was on the pill, so Nicky had been a result of that very small percentage of pill ineffectiveness and she was terrified of becoming pregnant again. However, she had not conveyed that fear to me and the result was that all I received were a few...very few, unenthusiastic, hand or blow jobs.

During the course of counseling we both realized that two kids were enough and I readily agreed to get a vasectomy. I had been a resident in our guest room for six weeks when Linda realized that our situation was affecting the girl's mood and she, reluctantly, allowed me back in our bed. It wasn't until three weeks after my procedure that we had sex..., another month before we made love. To my wife's credit she never said, "you owe my one" and never again taunted me about my "indiscretion" even during our rare disagreements.

I had called Linda about an hour after the shit hit the fan at the prison to advise her that I would probably be late to the party but would do my best to get there. Due to the chaotic circumstances still going on at our facility, our conversation was short and she was more concerned with my safety than my appearance at her party. I called her again when I was leaving, at around 8PM, and informed her that I would be there but probably not until nine thirty or so.

Linda is an excellent dancer and she loves it ...me, not so much. She sounded like she had had a few wines when she replied, "Just be careful Hon and don't worry, I already found someone to dance with', It wasn't a snarky comment and she sounded happy. My wife is very attractive and when she dolls up, she looks sexier than most woman who are ten years younger. She has blonde hair and keeps the errant grey hairs in check with some coloring. After our last daughter was born, she had some trouble getting the weight off but with time and hard work she is now just ten pounds heavier than when we met. Most of the weight seemed to have gone to her breasts, which sag very little for a fifty-four-year-old woman.

At 5'11", Linda is only a few inches shorter than me. My hair is now mostly grey but still thick and wavy. Due in part to the fact that for most of my career I had to deal with some very unsavory people, I had kept myself in shape. Having a desk job for the last six years had added a few pounds, but just a few. Our sex lives have remained vigorous and I don't know any couple our age who is more compatible or loving.

I arrived at the Radisson at 9:45 and looking around at the tables I didn't see my wife. There were a lot of people on the dance floor and I eventually spotted Linda dancing a slow dance with a tall guy but there was nothing particularly inappropriate going on. They were talking and laughing as they swayed to the music and I was admiring how lovely and sexy my wife looked in her cocktail dress and matching high heels, when the band announced a short break.

The guy escorted her off the dance floor with a hand on her waist but he was guiding her through the crowd as most gentlemen would. I watched as they headed for their table and, as I was approaching, Linda saw me, gave me a hug and a kiss and said that she was glad to see my safe and sound. There was no apparent embarrassment at the fact that she had been slow dancing with another man and certainly no suspicion in my mind of anything untoward. She had told me that she had found a dance partner and I assumed it was him.

She led me over to the table to introduce me to her three companions. I was introduced to Jake, the man she had been dancing with and he stood to shake my hand. He was about forty-five, 6'3" with sandy colored hair, blue eyes with the athletic build of a runner or tennis player. I remembered his name from previous conversations and that he was being trained by Linda to take over a west coast office.

Next was Marty, a guy of about my height and build, with a ruddy, but friendly face. Barbara was an attractive brunette with large brown eyes. She appeared to be a few years older than Marty and since they were sitting across from one another and both wore wedding rings, I assumed they were husband and wife. I would learn shortly that they were just colleagues, each from different districts. Devlin, the other table mate, was a distinguished looking, older gentleman in his late sixties and spoke with a distinct British accent.

Linda was seated between Marty and Jake, Barbara across from Marty and Devlin across from my wife. No one offered to move so I took the end chair across from Jake and he was the first to speak, when he said:

"Linda has told me so much about you Mac that I feel like I already know you. She told us about the crisis at the jail today. I'm glad to see you in one piece. How did it go, by the way?"

He had piercing blue eyes and his question seemed sincere as opposed to just polite conversation.

"Under control for now. The inmates are in lockdown and investigators are trying to sort out who did what and why but aside from a few informants, the population there is not very cooperative. We may have some answers tomorrow...but, who knows."

"Linda said some people were hurt." he queried.

"Yeah, a few inmates were hospitalized, one critically. Two of my officers had to go to the hospital, one with a broken wrist and the other suffered a concussion along with a broken nose and some cuts that required stitches."

Jake's eyes never left mine as I spoke and he was shaking his head slowly, when he replied, "I don't know how you do it Mac, dealing with those... He was searching for a politically correct word, ... those types of people, on a daily basis. I sure as hell wouldn't want your job but thankfully there are folks like you who put themselves in harm's way for the rest of society."

He seemed sincere and not just blowing smoke up my ass, so I added, "Well, there was a time when I had to be in the trenches but now, I'm more of a paper pusher, running interference with the press and other state agencies".

Linda seized that moment to interject, "Honey, we've already eaten but I see that the buffet is still set up. Why don't you get a drink and something to eat before they take it away?"

When I nodded my agreement, my wife swallowed the rest of her wine and added, "can you get me another Chardonnay while you're there?"

Linda is usually a "sipper" rather than a "slugger" so I was a little surprised that she had downed a half glass of wine in one gulp. She wasn't drunk but after thirty-one years of marriage I could tell you almost to the glass how much wine she had consumed at any given time. I guessed she would be leaving her car here as I headed to the buffet and bar which was on the far side of the dance floor.

I hadn't had anything to eat in almost twelve hours so I was starving. The buffet table was unmanned but there was enough food left to make myself a plate. As I was making my way to the bar to get a coke and a wine for Linda the band started back up and began playing some 50's music. the first one was a Lindy and couples were starting to merge onto the dance floor. Rather than try to wend my way through the twirling bodies and wind up wearing my food, I went towards the back of the dance floor to work my way back to the table.

When I got there the only one at the table was Devlin and he seemed happy to no longer have to sit alone and immediately engaged me in conversation. I tried to be polite and responded in between bites of my food. I had placed my wife's wine on the table in front of her chair and when I turned my attention to the dancers, I saw that Jake and Linda were moving like a well-oiled machine. As I said Linda loves to dance and I was not very good at it and certainly couldn't do the Lindy, so I wasn't jealous.

I was admiring how good she looked in her red cocktail dress and matching high heels but I had to turn my back to the floor to take a few more bites and not appear rude to Devlin. The music continued and Linda stayed on the floor for a few more numbers but the day's events were taking their toll and me and I could feel weariness setting in. I was hoping Linda would understand when I told her that we needed to get going soon and even though it would be Sunday in an hour and was my usual day off, I would have to go in and deal with the remaining crisis.

I had just finished eating when the others returned to the table. Jake and Linda were carrying fresh drinks and when my wife saw the glass of wine by her place, she looked a bit embarrassed and said, "Oh, I'm sorry Hon, I forgot that you were getting me a glass," nervously adding, "don't worry... I won't let it go to waist."

Just then a slow number started and standing and looking at me, said, I think I need to have at least one dance with my husband."

The "at least one dance comment" wouldn't have bothered my if it weren't for the fact that when she arose and stepped behind Jake, she put her hand on his shoulder and gave a little rub and squeeze. He turned to look up at her and his smile seemed a little more intimate than was appropriate for work colleagues.

As we were dancing, I was admiring the amount of cleavage that I was being treated to but then I realized that at 6'3" Jake would have had a much better view of her boobs. She seemed somewhat distracted on the dance floor and in the middle of the second number, moved her head back to look at me and said, sympathetically, "Mac you look exhausted, why don't you go home and get some sleep."

My antennae were starting to rise as I replied, "I think you have had too many drinks to get behind the wheel and besides, the band said that this would be their last set."

Without hesitation she said, "Jake can drop me off. He's going back to California in the morning and has a 6:30AM flight so he has to leave here by three thirty and just about has to pass our house to get to the airport."

My tired brain was trying to process that statement when Linda took my hand and led me off the dance floor to a secluded area where the buffet table had just been removed. Still confused I had followed her obediently. Finally, she stopped, faced me and took both of my hands in hers and staring into my eyes, haltingly, began to speak:

"Mac have you ever wanted something so much that it became an obsession?" Before I could answer, she continued, there is something between Jake and I ..., I don't know what to call it other than ... electricity, a desire to experience one another more intimately. I'll be fifty-five next month and I'm feeling old and unattractive but Jake makes me feel young and desirable."

I can't adequately describe what my brain was trying to process but I was no longer tired, I was alert and scared. Thirty-one years together and I think my wife was about to ask me if she could fuck another man. I pulled my hands out of hers and stepping back a couple of feet, hissed:"

"This is about Christine, isn't it? After all these years you want to play the revenge card."

Christine Horgrath was the woman I had drunkenly had sex with at that retirement party. She was married and had three young children, at the time. The person who sent the picture to Linda must have had a personal vendetta towards me because he, or she, never sent anything to her husband... and thankfully not to our superiors. We continued to work at the same facility until she retired, twelve years later. However, we were both ashamed of what happened that night and avoided one another as much as possible and never spoke of the incident.

"No Honey, I swear this has nothing to do with that. I don't love him and he doesn't love me, it's just this ... obsession. That's the only way I can describe it. Even though we've never so much as kissed this sexual tension has built over time. Sure, we've flirted but that's all. Tonight, when we were dancing, I realized that in a few hours he will be gone and I will never see him again."

"So, what, I angrily interrupted, you felt his big cock rubbing against you and you decided that you just had to have it. That's your obsession?"

My voice had risen but fortunately, the crowd had started to thin out and there was no one in our vicinity. She tried to take my hand again but I recoiled away. She looked away momentarily, gathering her thoughts but then looking back at me, said:

Mac...Honey, I love you. I don't know if he is five inches or ten inches. This has nothing to do with his penis ..., well, at least, not in the way that you're thinking. I'm asking for a three-hour sabbatical from our marriage in order to purge this compulsion from my mind."

"I'm just asking that you give me the same consideration and forgiveness that I gave you back then."

"CONSIDERATION, I barked. Consideration, I repeated, you put me through hell for months, kicked me out of our bed and made me endure months of humiliating counseling with that man hating therapist."

"I made a huge alcohol induced mistake. A mistake that lasted about fifteen minutes and I felt like shit afterward. Now you want a three-hour hall pass in order to get even, twenty years later. What about his wife, I spat, did he ask her if it was okay to fuck his colleague as a farewell gift? I saw that he's wearing a wedding ring ..., as are you, I might add."

She took some time to reply but finally replied, "He's not married, Mac, he wears the ring as a memento to his wife who died almost three years ago. Believe it or not, he is not some Casanova who has systematically seduced me. He knows that I love you and that I intend to be with you forever."

"The question is Mac, do you...'love me enough'...to allow me to suspend my wedding vows for a few hours. Do you love me enough to realize that this is a one-time fantasy that has been plaguing my psyche for weeks? He won't be coming back here and I, certainly, won't be going to California."

'I have never been unfaithful, hell, I've never even considered being unfaithful. This is just a phenomenon that I can't explain, not even to myself."

It seemed like minutes, but was only fifteen or twenty seconds before I asked in a shaky voice, "and what if I say no?"

I was terrified of the answer, but without hesitation, she said with a sigh, "then I will get my purse and we will leave. I'll be disappointed and although there will be a little hole in my soul..., it will heal."

"Does he know we're having this conversation," I asked:

"Yes, she said in an almost whisper, he has a room here and if I don't show he will know."

I looked back over to where I had been seated, just minutes ago, blissfully ignorant of my wife's desire to bed another man. Our table was empty and only a handful of guests remained for a last drink or some conversation.

When my eyes returned to her face, her eyes were glassy with tears but I had no idea if was tears caused by the fear of my answer and the crushing of her fantasy or if they were there because she could peer into my soul and see the painful torment going on within it.

Finally, without a word I took her left hand in mine and with my other hand, quickly, removed her engagement and wedding band. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open but before she could speak, I said: