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Passion & Perspective
copyright 2013 Chapter 22 This is a chapter of a novel. Click here to go to the first chapter |
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A Tuesday night, Amy was off with her husband extending a long Labor Day weekend, I got home from work around my usual time. Molly's car was in the garage, there was a car I didn't recognize parked on the opposite side of the street; the neighbors must be having company. At the kitchen island I picked up the mail, started checking the envelopes when I became aware of a strange, creaking vibration. As I listened for it, I heard from a distance low moans, some of them my wife's, and unintelligible voices. I investigated, in the hall outside the master bedroom were fragments of clothing scattered: a blouse, a skirt, a shirt, a bra. The vibration was louder now, the creaking of the bed springs, the moans came from Molly's throat, they were interspersed with a man's voice, "You like that, don't you? You want it bad, don't you?" The bedroom door was cracked six inches, by standing next to the wall I could make out the pair on the bed, Molly on her back, her knees pointed to the ceiling fan, a gentleman above her, it was more than obvious his penis was prodding her heartland. I didn't recognize him, he wasn't Mark, or Nick, or any of our other playmates, grey hair, large pink butt. What was my wife up to? Not that I minded, my own erection grew as I watched the lovers cavort, Molly seemed in the throes, the man was close, and then he let loose, a call that would have been appropriate in a zoo escaping from his gut. I was in a quandary, should I leave them be, just slink into the office, close the door and wait for them to finish? And yet, the scene seemed to me an invitation, Molly certainly knew that I was coming home, we'd talked about it at breakfast, if she wanted privacy wouldn't she have made sure the door was shut? I decided to enter, the man was gasping for air after his come, his face turned from me, Molly gazed at me merrily, a finger raised to her mouth, beckoning me to play along. "Don!" she screamed, "what are you doing home? You were supposed to be working late!" The man's head twisted, caught my visage, he cried, "Oh, my god!" his face turned an intense shade of persimmon.He scrambled off my wife and the bed to the point furthest from me and defended, "We can explain!" Molly covered herself with the sheet, in the process I saw a laugh cover her face only to be replaced with a mock scowl, some sort of game was going on here, I sensed I should collaborate. "Well, go ahead!" I answered the man's suggestion, "Let me hear what you've got to say." "Its . . . I mean . . . we . . ." he stammered, trying to put his underpants and trousers on. Of course there was only one explanation, and although I and Molly were quite comfortable with it, he apparently wasn't. Then she broke in, "Don, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean . . . listen, could you just go into the office, let Jack get out of here." I pasted an insincere frown on, allowed, "Well, there better be a good reason for this!" I turned, headed down the hall, and when the office door was closed, I let myself have a good, if silent, laugh. I heard the voices, his panicked, her's mercurial and suggesting he leave quickly before a scene erupted. In a few moments I heard the front door open and through the window I saw him scamper across the lawn to his car, fumble with the keys and drive unsafely down our block. I found Molly in the den, a short, thin robe disguising her recently screwed frame. "Drink?" she asked. "Sure. Vodka tonic?" She mixed our beverages, and waited for me to ask, "Okay, what the hell was that?" "You've said you wanted to catch me in bed with someone. Now you have. Did you enjoy it?" "Yeah, it was fun. Who is he?" "Jack. I met him at the grocery store, he flirted with me in frozen foods, then invited me out for a drink. It was the old line, his wife doesn't satisfy him anymore, I'm the sexiest thing he's ever seen, blah, blah, blah. I let him play his game for a few weeks, since he's vanilla I didn't tell him about us. I thought about telling you about him, asking if it was okay, then I remembered how you've always wanted to catch me." "Was this the first time?" "No, I didn't think it would be fair to him, I'm pretty sure he's never strayed before, so last week I let him get a hotel, we shagged for a couple of hours. Then I told him I could meet him here an hour before you got home, told him you were staying late at the office. He went for it, and you saw the rest. How long did you watch?" "Five minutes, maybe. I didn't want to barge in just at the right time, so I waited until you guys were done. That was a pretty good act you went into." "I had it planned out," she admitted. "Going to see him again?" "No, I'll tell him you're really pissed and that if he ever catches you around in the neighborhood you're likely to knock his block off. He isn't that good, this'll give him something to think about, maybe he'll treat his wife better." We laughed about it for a little while, before dinner I had my ass in exactly the same place Jack had his, it became a private joke with us. |
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