To Share or Not To Share

When she burst through the front door a few minutes earlier than normal, she had a 'spring in her step, a smile on her lips, and that 'look' only a freshly fucked woman can have. Of course my diagnosis of the situation may have been prejudiced by the brownish-purplish 'hickeys' on each side of her neck. Apparently Mr. Kent wanted to make sure I knew he's made good his threat of, 'I'm gonna fuck your wife.'

"Where were you all afternoon, Babe?" I asked.

"Working, of course."

"Babe, you might have been working, but it sure as hell wasn't selling real estate—not all that time."

"How would you know?" She snapped back; she never did like to be questioned, especially when she had done something wrong.

"Because I stopped by your office to see if you could duck out early enough for an early dinner and a movie." I fixed us both a steaming cup of coffee. "Sit down." It was more of an order than a request, and surprisingly enough, she complied. I placed her cup in front of her.

Taking my usual seat across from her, I sipped coffee and remained quiet while looking directly into her eyes. She tried to return my stare, but soon had to look away.

"Sooo—you've been checking up on me?"

"If you've been keeping your promise about staying true to me, it wouldn't make any difference, would it?"

"It...it...it shows you don't trust me," she stammered.

"Trust you? Are you shitting me—you bounce in here with that freshly fucked look and hickeys all over your neck, and you talk about trust?"

She knew she'd been caught, and she looked it. "I...I'm sorry Joey, but It's really your fault—what with the way you've been neglecting me all these weeks. You know I need sex, but what did you do; did you treat me like a wife needs to be treated? Oh no, not Mr. High and Mighty—not you. You had to get on your high horse and play martyr—your wife displeases you, so you're gonna punish her.

"Well, I got horny—so yes; I did get fucked, as you put it—this afternoon. And if you don't start taking care of me, I'll be getting a lot more 'Afternoon Delights.'"

"Please tell me you didn't give it to that Kent guy again."

"What is it with you and Kent? I'm telling you he's a nice guy and while I don't love him like I love you, I really feel for the man. He's special, and yes, he really knows how to show me a good time."

"Better than me, I suppose."

"Well, if you really want to know—I wouldn't say better than you, but with him it's different, and I suppose that's what makes it so exciting."

"Well, I'm telling you the man's a scumbag and dollars to doughnuts, the bastard's got AIDS."

"Joey! How could you lie like that?" She stomped off to the master bedroom.

'That went well—not' I thought. 'This morning I was planning a nice little make-up dinner with my wife; while this evening I find out my wife just couldn't keep from fucking another guy. Yep way to go, Joey.'

I didn't get a lot of sleep that night, but I did make a lot of decisions. I couldn't and wouldn't live like this. By her screwing Kent after I'd begged her not to, Jan had made her choice. Oh sure, she claimed to have "special feelings" for him, but now that she'd discovered the thrill of a strange cock, I suspected he would be the first of a long string of "special feelings".

My problem was how to minimize my losses. According to my lawyer, since we were married when I developed my gadget, which was the source of everything we had, she was going to get half if we went to court. He'd suggested putting up with the situation as long as possible; meantime I should hide everything I could in an off-shore account.

Jan, being Jan, gave me another option; I knew she liked the prestige of being married to a "Leader of the Community" (ain't that a pile of shit?) offered and now that she'd fucked Kent after he'd been exposed to the AIDS virus, she'd probably have it too, so all I had to do was keep her satisfied living separately without a divorce, and in a few years, the problem would solve itself.

"Yeah, I know—that's the thinking of a cold blooded son-of-a-bitch, but having your wife wanting you to share her with a man can make you pretty cold blooded.

Next morning we sat at the breakfast table for a long time trying to work out our problem. I warned Jan again, she'd probably been exposed to AIDS and should get checked, but she'd have none of that. Her faith in her lover exceeded any she had in me and I knew it was all over for us, even if by some miracle she was disease free.

What on earth had happened to that sensible girl I'd married and spent most of my life with? The answer was stupid, but obvious—a strange dick; and according to her, it wasn't all that much better than mine; it was just different.

We cut lawyers out of a lot of money that morning. She'd continue living in the house—that way the kids would have a familiar place to come to on holidays and such—and she'd get to continue pretending to be a community leader.

What did I get out of it? If things went as planned, I'd just continue shelling out money, at a rate I could well afford, for the next few years, during which time I'd be hiding as much as I could in an off-shore account, just in case things didn't go right.

As we agreed and I rose to start packing the things I'd need to hold me over until I found a place, I couldn't help but make one final appeal; "Jan, I beg you, get checked for AIDS and make sure your boyfriend does also. Whatever his test shows, if yours is negative stay away from him—in fact, stay away for another month anyway since that's how long it'll take after exposure for the test to be dependable."

Her reply both broke my heart and pissed me off. "Joey, you're sweet, and I know you love me; I love you too, but stop worrying. Kent is the only man beside you that I've been with, and since he's only been with his wife and she doesn't have the virus, there's no way we've got anything to worry about." What the hell happened to that sensible woman I'd spent so much of my life with?

EPILOGUE

I didn't go far; I wanted to stay close enough to watch my revenge scheme play out. Kitty suggested she rent me a place next door. Since the girls would be my neighbors, I jumped at the chance. There's a lot to be said for just being around pretty women, even if you don't dip your wick in the pond—and if temptation got to be too much, I decided condoms weren't all that bad.

Oh Yeah, I did have a word with Mr. Wife Stealer that you might be interested in. A couple weeks after moving in my new digs, he was in the long Branch, just sitting alone while nursing a beer and looking like he was waiting for a fresh victim, so I checked the roll of quarters in my right pocket, got a long neck bottle of beer and sat across from him—uninvited.

"What the fuck you want, asshole?"

"Oh, just come over to congratulate you—you told you'd have my wife begging you to fuck her, and you did. I'd never have believed it."

He gave a nasty chuckle. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? That's a prime piece of pussy you had there, boy. Hell, I'd have been willing to share her with you, after all, I can't keep up all the cunts who're begging for my cock every night—hell man, you'd have had her to yourself at least three or four night a week."

"Well that's damn generous of you, fellow—but I don't like sticking my dick in a woman that's been fucking a man with AIDS."

That got his attention. He jumped to his feet. "Who? Who she been fucking that has AIDS? I'll kill the SOB."

I stood also. "Great idea! Kill yourself, cause you're the one with AIDS. Guess I wasn't too much of a wimp to do anything about a scumbag fucking my wife after all, huh?" I turned to go back to the bar, but used the mirror to keep an eye on him. If he had made for me, I intended to waste a good beer by breaking the bottle over his head, and if that didn't do the trick, my roll of quarters was handy. He just continued to glare at me, like he was trying to figure out just what I meant.

Many times, over the next five years, I wondered if my scheming was worth it. Within months after I left her, Jan and Kent were showing up at the Longhorn a couple times a week, but it seemed to take forever for my proof positive. Finally it happened; Kent caught the flu and it really knocked him for a loop. That's when the doctors found out he had a full blown case of AIDS.

The word spread quickly in our small town. I was sitting in my favorite corner of the barroom trying, not very successfully, to enjoy my revenge against both my wife and her lover when a voice from my past jarred me out of my reverie. Jan eased into the other chair.

"Well, cowboy, I guess you're happy now. You told me Kent was no damn good, but I didn't see it soon enough to save myself."

"So you're sick too?"

"Yep--along with a lot of other wives around here. Just one question, how the crap did you know? You warned me way back when I first started going with him, but I was too hardheaded to listen. That line, he handed me, about me and his wife being the only ones—huh! There's a half dozen couples in town really scared now, so you were right, he was a player—but I still wonder—how the hell did you know? Surely you couldn't have had anything to do with it, could you?"

"Who, me? Naw, I'm just a wimp, remember, I'm the guy who couldn't even keep my wife from straying—how could I do anything about a big strong man like Kent fucking you?"

"I don't know, but if you did, you better not let the word get out, cause you really played hell in this place."

I hadn't thought about that aspect when I'd bragged to Kent, but I realized it could be a problem—aside from the legal side of things. I really hadn't broken any laws, but you can never tell what some idiot judge might do, and I didn't want a bunch of pissed off husbands after my ass.

Apparently Kent didn't believe a wimp like me could actually cause him harm, or maybe he was just too proud to admit I'd gotten even. Whatever the reason, I never heard a word from our encounter.

I didn't attend Kent's funeral, but I did ride past the cemetery while they were planting the SOB. The crowd was very small—just about what you'd expect if the couples, whose lives he'd screwed up, were the only ones in attendance. Like the man said, "Give the people what they want and they'll come."

I did attend Jan's just over two years later. That one was much better attended. We made a tight little group, me, my daughters, their young families, and my soon to be second wife—all sitting there under the awning while the casket was lowered. The girls quiet sobs were almost getting to me, as I sat there thinking about what might have been.

THE END

*****

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