What Was I Thinking?

"What if I play with my clit while you dig through that bag? Oh, did I just see your cock get bigger when I said that?"

I looked at Shelly playing with herself and just dumped the bag upside down. There they were! I ripped open a packet, put the rubber over my hard on and dove between her sweet legs.

"Fuck me." She said. And I obeyed. Even with the rubber on it felt like heaven. No nasty thoughts in my head, just me and a beautiful woman taking care of each other's needs.

Shelly spent the night. In the morning we showered and screwed, then showered again. The four of us went out for Sunday brunch, the ladies on the back of our bikes. Damn, it felt good to have a lady on the back of my bike with her arms wrapped around my waist. After brunch we rode for a couple hours until Shelly had to catch a flight out for her job. I dropped her off at her condo and got a big kiss.

"Thanks Jeff. I think Melody and Woody might be dating for a while, so if you're in town again, let's get back together."

I kissed her again. "Thank you Shelly, you've helped me more than you'll ever know this weekend. Fly safe."

Chapter 6 – The Reckoning

Monday morning I woke up with Woody sitting on my bed. "Melody had to go back to work this week. Feel like hitting the road again, partner?"

"You just leaving her behind? I thought you two had something going here. In fact, I was going to suggest I get cleared out and give you both space to explore."

Woody answered, "I'll be back if everything goes all right in Texas. I explained everything to Melody and she wants me to return after I finish what I set out to do. That's a real fine woman, you think it matters she's six years older than me?"

"No, it doesn't seem to matter when the guy is much older than his wife, but society did this number on women thinking they can't date a younger guy. Then they perverse it by calling the women 'cougars'. It's all bullshit. I had a co-worker back in Seattle, she's ten years older than her husband. They've been married fifteen years and they're the happiest couple I know."

Woody smiled when I told him that. "Melody asked me if it mattered to me and I said 'no', it's good to hear your perspective on it, even if you've got some strange ideas about monogamy. Thanks Jeff."

"Did you tell her why you and your ex split?"

"I did, and she agrees; it's 'forsake all others' for us if we do this. OK, now I need to tell you why I'm going to Texas. After you hear my plans, you may want to head in a different direction.

"When we were over there I had a friend named Kyle Mason in the squad that was one of the nicest guys you ever met. He adored his wife, couldn't wait to finish his tour and get back to her. Wrote her nearly every damn day, even wrote poems.

"Six weeks before he's ready to ship home he gets the 'Dear John' letter in the mail. Bitch couldn't even wait to tell him to his face. She even has to go into how she met another guy and she's divorcing him to marry the asshole. Almost like she's rubbing it in.

"None of us knew about the letter until that night when he takes his sidearm and eats it. The bullet took the back of his head off and that's how I found him when the shot woke me. He had the letter in his other hand, covered in blood, but still legible.

I had a lot of hate for the bitch after reading the letter, but my hate grew when I returned stateside and found out the kid was worth a quarter million and he hadn't changed his will. The bitch inherited the entire fortune after dumping his ass for another guy. His sister contested the will, but it held up in court.

"So, I'm going to Texas for the reckoning. What I end up doing will be illegal and most likely get nasty. That's why you may want to head in another direction from here on out." Woody looked in my eyes as he finished the story.

"Woody, I've been a stock broker all my adult life and I haven't been in a fist fight since college, let alone anything having to do with weapons, so I'll probably be worthless if it comes to that. But let's start riding east, when we get there and you come up with your plan, I'll listen. If I think I can do it, I'm in as long as it doesn't involve torturing a woman or murder. Whether I'm in or out, I'll never turn on you, you can count on that. When do we leave?"

For three days Woody and I rode east, buying gas and food with cash and sleeping in our tents. Woody produced a couple of 'borrowed' plates for our bikes and we did our best to keep a low profile, no speeding or anything that would cause attention. As much as I like to ride on two-lane back roads, the freeways offered more anonymity and speed. We didn't ride together, every day we decided on a campground for the night and met there. Over the next couple nights Woody shared more details of his plan. Ninety percent of his plan was flawless, but with my background in the financial services I pointed out the few flaws. I made a couple phone calls to some guys I knew in Chicago to close the gaps.

Mrs. Heather (Mason) Banks and her new husband had used some of their misbegotten funds as a down payment on a hobby ranch just outside of Abilene. We pulled up to their long drive on the night of that third day after leaving Ventura. I admit to shaking and having second thoughts as we silently approached the house on foot. There were a few unknowns, what if they had a security system or dogs?

Woody made me stay behind when we were within a hundred yards of the house. His training, despite his size, gave him the stealth to make it to the door undetected. He would signal me to come in by flashing one light in the lower right hand window.

When the light flashed I moved the bikes into the barn and stepped into the house to find a very different Woody. Instead of the warm mountain man I'd been with for the past three weeks, I was met by the warrior Woody; his eyes were cold.

"Here, put on this mask and gloves. The two of them are tied up in the bedroom. We have the next few hours to find out where they keep the money. I'm going to separate them and throw the fear of god into them until one of them talks." Woody put his mask on and entered the bedroom. He came out with the husband and tied him to the bed in the second bedroom.

I went into the bedroom with Mrs. Banks, took off her gag and asked, "Where's the money?"

She shook her head, so I walked to the other door and shook my head. A loud scream came from the husband, it actually curled my toes. I knew we weren't leaving the house until Woody had busted the asshole's balls, but it sounded awful. I asked the Mrs. again. She said 'no' again and we repeated the process. I was hoping she'd break before her husband passed out. Luckily, she gave in after her husband's second scream. Was it because she cared for him or because I threatened that she was next? I have my suspicions.

They had thirty thousand in cash plus a good deal of jewelry in the home safe. According to the statements I found there was twenty thousand in a local bank and another one hundred-twenty thousand in a brokerage account. Given what they had to put down to pay for the ranch, that was probably a good ballpark figure for the original quarter million she inherited.

I spent the next hour setting up a transfer from the brokerage account to an account one of Woody's ex-Army buddies had set up in Miami. The guy was a Columbian with an uncle that could make these things happen and was just as pissed off at Kyle Mason's ex-wife as Woody and he was glad to help out. It would take a full day to authorize a transfer to a new account, so we were going to sit out the next full day in the house.

We grabbed a few hours of sleep. In the morning we had both of our hostages call in sick to their respective employers. They actually sounded sick, given they had a gun to their heads and the bad night they had, so their employers didn't suspect a thing. We kept the two of them tied up in separate rooms, never any communication between them. The husband we let piss and shit in his bed, it really started to stink in that room. We didn't give him any food, maybe a couple sips of water. The Mrs. was kept in relative comfort except for being tied with some soft fabric. No markings; she was given food and water and allowed to take bathroom breaks.

Friday morning the transfer was complete; one hundred fifteen thousand in the Miami account. With that confirmed we had Mrs. Banks call the local bank and arrange a wire transfer for eighteen thousand to the same Miami bank account. She had to read from a script stating the funds were for a down payment on a Miami condo. Since it was a wire transfer initiated by the customer, the funds were made available immediately at the Miami bank. That afternoon all but one dollar was wired from the Miami account to an account in the Caymans and that account was drained within the hour.

By three pm Texas time we were finished. One last thing to do, then we would ride out as soon as it got dark. Before we left we went into the husband's room. It took everything I had not to toss my cookies because of the stink, but I followed the script as I checked his binds. "Crap it stinks in here, hardly worth what the bitch is paying us to pull this off."

Woody replied sharply, "Shut up you damn fool, the asshole might be conscious."

He was faking unconsciousness so somewhere in his lizard brain my words registered.

Their gags were tightened and we put plugs in their ears, didn't want them hearing the motorcycles when we left, less reason for the cops to be looking for bikers. Woody and I shook hands and made plans to someday get back together, if we didn't meet in jail first. He road west back to Melody, I rode north to meet Tom. When I reached Missouri the next morning I stopped and called the Abilene police using a burner phone to give them a head's up on what they'd find out at the ranch.

Chapter 7 – This Strange Life

The ride north was fast and boring. Just one thing of interest to the reader needs to be mentioned. Tom lost his wife to cancer the previous year and this was supposed to be a healing ride for him. We had ridden together so many times before and it was always a pleasant experience. Two old friends, we'd known each other since high school and were in each other's wedding, out riding, telling jokes and tall tales.

I spoiled this ride by finally telling Tom the truth about why Janice and I broke up. We were at a bar in Montreal and he actually stood up and punched me in the nose. He must have held back because my nose was bleeding but not broken. Tom screamed at me, "You son of a bitch! I have to live without the one woman I loved and you had the nerve to throw yours away! You make me sick!"

The next day Tom rode back to Chicago and I rode south to nowhere. I still had seven weeks before I was due in Washington DC to meet with my daughter. Hopefully that reunion will go better than my reunion with Tom. It occurred to me that Catherine was just having me meet her in DC so she could scream at me to my face.

So I rode south and meandered. Went up and down the Tale of the Dragon a few times just to test my skills. Wish I had that Ducati the second time through; this road would be a hoot on a sport bike, although it was still fun on the Harley.

Half way down through the Florida panhandle I received an unexpected call.

"Tom, what's up?"

"Sorry I blew up on you Jeff. If you're back near Chicago, please stop by and we'll try it again. Maybe not Canada, maybe just spend some time together wherever. You're my oldest and closest friend. I hate what you did but I love you like a brother."

We chatted for a little while. I promised to check in after I left DC in August.

Tom asked, "Where are you now?"

"Coco Beach. I'm going down to the Keys and hit Key West. Southern most point and all that; should be there in two days since I'm going slow and want to see the Everglades."

"Ride safe. Stop by when you leave Catherine, OK?"

I parked my bike on Duvall Street and walked to the city park that advertised itself as the Southern Most Point in the United States. I took a picture of the buoy in the square and headed back to the bike. Checked another stupid tourist trap off my bucket list. As I approached the bike, there was a woman leaning against it. Some people have a lot of nerve!

As I approached her, thinking how I could cleverly give her a piece of my mind without being a total jerk, she saw me approach and stood up. Janice?

I picked up my pace and almost ran.

"Janice, what are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, Jeff."

"How did you know I was in Key West?"

"Tom told me, he said you were coming down here and I remembered when you and I almost made it here before Hurricane Wilma and how disappointed you were not to visit the Southern Most Point. So I took a gamble and here we are."

Suddenly I remembered the last five months of our marriage. "So is Catherine all right? Is there something wrong that you couldn't just call?"

"Catherine's fine. No, what I needed to tell you I needed to say in person. Jeff, I still love you and I want us together. I want to grow old with you by my side. But most of all, I want you and I to be together before we get old."

I couldn't believe my ears. I almost pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. If it was a dream, maybe I wouldn't have to wake up.

"What happened with Robert?"

"Robert was a terrible mistake. We're finished and I'll tell you all about it, but right now I want a hug and a kiss from the man I've loved since I was a teenager. Can you give me that or are you too pissed at me for leaving you?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. I squeezed that woman with all my might and then kissed her with all the passion I could pass through my lips. A couple of kids even shouted, "get a room" but that didn't stop me. I just kept hugging and kissing.

I stopped kissing and looked in her green eyes. "I'm not pissed at you. You gave me a great big kick in the ass that I deserved. I treated you like a sex object and not like a wife or friend. I was wrong to ever think you were the kind of woman I tried to make you be. Just please forgive me."

"So no more wife sharing?"

"Never, believe me. If I want to see you get fucked, we'll just mount a big mirror in our bedroom and I'll watch the two of us together. Maybe I'll get a movie camera. Whatever, just the two of us from now until forever."

"Well then it's settled; now let's do what those kids suggested and get a room."

And we did.

Chapter 8 - Epilogue

Janice and I spent two days in the Keys before she had to fly back to Seattle. But she was only gone long enough to give her two weeks' notice, move her things out of Robert's home and arrange to meet me in Washington DC. Catherine was happy to see us back together, but that didn't prevent her from giving me a rash of shit about how stupid her father was.

Even with her verbal abuse, which ended before the first night together, it was great to be a family again. We spent the entire week playing tourist. The reunion was emotional, but not as emotional as when we visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and found my uncle's name on the wall. I teared up thinking of the young man who never reached twenty and who I never got a chance to meet. My mother used to tell me so many wonderful stories about her big brother. Thank goodness Janice and Catherine were there with me.

The third night in town Janice told me what happened with Robert. It seems he became controlling; an ugliness came to the surface almost as soon as Janice moved in with him. As the conversation turned to their wedding, his true nature became more evident. At the same time, Janice realized that she still loved me; she accepted that part, even if it was a small part, of our problem was due to her behavior. She decided that if I could agree we would never do it again, she would come back to me.

After our week in DC and now temporarily unemployed, Janice bought new leathers and travel gear, hopped on the back of my bike and we headed west. The first stop was Chicago where I almost (but not really) kissed Tom for his part in getting Janice and I back together. The three of us toured the Wisconsin Dells area before riding south along the Mississippi River. He left us outside St Louis after a week of riding.

Janice and I continued west following the sections of Route 66 wherever it remained until we reached the Pacific, then north to Ventura where I introduced Janice to Woody and Melody. The four of us got along so well that Janice and I decided to get an apartment in town for the winter. It was a little awkward one night when Melody and Woody were hosting a barbeque and Shelly showed up. Luckily she had been pre-warned about me and Janice so Shelly turned up with a date. I had already warned Janice about my very brief affair with Shelly and just after the introductions Janice jokingly pinched my arm and said, "No threesomes of ANY kind, mister."

One afternoon Woody and I took a ride out to the Hollister brewery. Over a pint Woody brought me up to date on the situation out in Texas.

It seems the doubt we instilled in Mr. Banks' head took root; he actually thought his wife was part of the theft, especially given their marriage had been quite rocky. Such is the mind of a man who would steal another man's wife. Heather Banks had been treated so well while he was treated so poorly, including his two very bruised, maybe non-functional, testicles.

His testimony, combined with the ease with which all the money disappeared, was enough to lead the district attorney to charge Heather Banks with conspiracy to commit insurance fraud, unlawful restraint and battery charges. (It should be noted that the district attorney was Kyle Mason's little league baseball coach and never cared much for the woman who dumped the young soldier. As they say, these things have a way of working out in the South.) Although she never spent any time in jail, she did lose the ranch and all the money.

Woody kept the money and the jewels from the safe, the money wired off shore ended up with a charity for wounded veterans; very appropriate.

Within a month Janice and I remarried in a double wedding ceremony with Woody and Melody.

Janice and I do visit nude beaches from time to time, but we never brought another man to our bed or even soft swapped again. I intend to grow old with this woman.

I guess you can say my luck has changed.