My Wife, Butch, and ME

"Yeah—great," I was thinking about being alone four days and I have to admit, given our present circumstances, I wondered who else would be making the trip.

She must have picked up on my attitude, because her next words were, "You don't mind, do you Honey? I know that leaves you alone four whole days—days we usually make love . . .."

"No, I don't mind." How could I say no? It seemed a chance of a lifetime for her. "Who's going with you?"

"I'm sure a lot of others will be at the conference, but I'm the only one from our office."

"Hey, maybe I can get the time off and go with you." There was just one moment of panic stricken fear that flashed across her face, but she recovered quickly.

"Sure, why not?" She was still smiling, but it was the difference between sunshine on a bright summer day and a winter day just before the snow clouds rolled in. It was enough for me to have one of those 'Oh Shit!' moments. Suddenly I realized my wife didn't really want me along; that meant Lover Boy was most likely slated for a trip to paradise, in more ways than one.

That was the day things came to a head quite by accident, or maybe it was divine intervention. I had begun to doubt my wisdom in giving Susan so much time, when Louise walked into my office.

"Boss," she asked, "Have you taken Susan dancing yet?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to make a fool of myself."

"Believe me Boss, you won't. You're a better dancer than most of the guys down at the Golden Slipper. Tonight we make a shakedown run. Joe and I will pick you up at eight. We'll have supper and then you try your wings on a real dance floor. You're free, aren't you?"

"Most likely—it's Tuesday and I'm sure Susan will be working late again."

True to her word, Louise was at my door at eight sharp, ten minutes later we were at a table for three in the biggest and best club in town. It was never designed as a nightclub; in its first life it was three side by side old store buildings, separated by walls. The present owner had simply knocked out portions of the walls to provide space galore.

With its large, almost private, booths and multiple dining room arrangement, the Golder Slipper was a place you could take a lover and have a little privacy. When the place really got busy, the dance floor was big enough, and crowded enough that you might even dance the night away without being seen by someone who knew you. We'd finished our meal, Louise had her wine and Joe and I our two shots of JD, when Louise pulled me out of my seat. "Time to spread your wings, Boss."

I was nervous at first, but Louise was such an easy partner I soon forgot I wasn't at her house, and really started enjoying myself.

"Okay, big guy, it's time for you to ask another woman to dance." She jokingly pushed me onto the floor, after we'd finished a few numbers. "They've started the slow ones now, and I want to feel my Hubby against my hot body."

I asked a few unaccompanied women, got turned down twice, but did get accepted three times, and if I do say so myself, I was having a good time. At least I hadn't crushed any toes yet. When the present number ended, I thanked my partner, she went her way and I headed for the men's room. To get there I had to go by a small dining room sporting a sign reading "Lover's Lane."

Intrigued by the sign, I paused at the door to check it out. That's when I got a surprise. Strange isn't it, I knew without a doubt Susan was seeing another man, and yet actually catching them shocked me. There sitting at the second table to my right, was my wife and her old boyfriend, Butch. She hadn't noticed me yet; she was too enthralled by something he was saying. For just an instant, I lost my cool. I wanted to kick his ass and drag her home with me, but my better self took charge before I made an ass of myself. Well—my better self got a lot of help from my bladder; if I didn't make it to the men's room soon, I just as well skip it. Couldn't have Asshole thinking he'd scared me so badly I'd pissed my pants.

Having that extra time helped me get a hold on my emotions. "Don't blow this thing, Jack," I said to myself. "You put too much time and effort to fuck up now. Just keep reminding yourself that Susan has to make her own decision for it to mean a thing." Seems I often talked to myself, especially when I'm upset.

Firmly in control of my emotions, I returned to their table, only to find it empty. "Damn, he's already taken her back to his place." Yet I couldn't quite convince myself they'd call it a night so soon. Starting back toward Joe and Louise I hesitated when the lead singer started a creditable job of singing Willie Nelson's 'Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain', a song that always made me check that 'speck of dust' in my eye.

My eyes roved from couple to couple, most were merely holding on tightly and swaying to the music. I heard a voice, "Hey, Jack! Grab yourself a partner and join the fun." It was Louise; she and Joe were dancing not ten feet from me. I had been so intent on looking for Susan and Asshole, I'd overlooked the area close by. Then Louise removed her hand from Joe's shoulder long enough to point to a nearby couple.

My heart must have jumped into double time when I realized she was pointing to Susan and Asshole. They were just moving together, apparently paying no attention anything except how their genitals felt rubbing through clothes. She had her eyes closed, a look of pure bliss on her face, while he nibbled on her neck and rubbed her ass with both hands. They were as close to fucking as you get and not have the bouncers kick you to the curb. "Cool it, Jack," I reminded myself.

Easing over behind Asshole, I tapped his shoulder. "May I cut in?" I asked politely. Susan still didn't open her eyes.

"Fuck off. Can't you see she's mine?"

That was too much; mister nice guy left the room and the guy, who'd put up with far too much crap from his wife, took his place. My hands they were so big, they have been compared to shovels, and a lifetime of hard work had left me with a grip like Superman.

A couple of things happened at the same time. My right hand latched onto his neck, pulling him back like he was a child, Susan opened her eyes, recognized me and screamed, just before she fainted. Catching her before she hit the floor, I carried her toward one of the nearby benches, where some of the older non-dancing patrons, who just like to watch but whose tables were too far away, immediately jumped up to make room.

Oh yeah, one more thing, Asshole tried to take over—two things really—and a pair of burley bouncers were hurrying over to investigate. The first distraction, Asshole, I took care of with a warning snarl, "This is my wife, so stay the fuck away from me till I make sure she's okay." And Joe intercepted the bouncers, assuring them Susan was indeed my wife, and we had everything under control.

Asshole seemed to take me at my word, he just stood a few feet away while I stretched her out on the vacated bench and a server handed me a wet cloth. I gently wiped her forehead and face saying, "Susan, Susan, wake up." Hey eyelids cracked just a bit, then flew wide open as she finally focused on me.

"Noooooo," she moaned, "How could you be here? You're not supposed to be here, you don't even dance." It's strange what a person in shock will say.

"I could ask you the same thing. As for my not dancing, I've been taking lessons. This was supposed to be like my final exam before I could spring the surprise on you." I watched her expressions hoping to see some sign of regret. There was regret written all over her face, but was it regret for what she did, or regret for getting caught?

"I suppose you finished up quicker than expected, so you and your buddy here just decided to grab a drink and maybe a quick twirl around the floor before coming home." I'd decided to give her a little more rope to see what she would do.

"How did you guess?" She was getting back to normal and she latched onto that explanation like a drowning man grasps for a straw. So she was going the 'brave-it-out' route.

"Just lucky, I guess," helping her back to her feet. "Feel okay now?"

She nodded. "But what are you doing here?"

"Didn't you hear what I said about learning to dance? Joe and Louise invited me out to dinner; a sort of shakedown/dinner cruise, if you know what I mean." I motioned for my friends to come closer. Both of them gathered around us, inquiring how she felt. She tried to assure them she was okay. Asshole was inching away.

"Where you going, Buddy?" I caught his arm, pulling him closer. "Don't you know a lady always goes home with the man who "brung" her? You aren't trying to indicate my wife isn't a lady, are you?" He didn't respond, but he didn't try to leave again.

As soon as I made sure Susan could maneuver okay, I asked her for a dance. Tonight was western night, and the DJ was playing Kitty Well's "It wasn't God Who made Honky Tonk Angels" and as we guided across the floor, I pulled her close until finally she moved in tight with her arms around my neck. I guess Kitty's words had an effect on me for as the last notes faded away, and we headed back to the others, all I said was, "We talk tonight, no matter what time you get home."

Susan and Asshole walked back toward their table and Louise, Joe and I went to ours. We had another round, Louise and I discussed the Susan situation, with Joe putting in his two cents worth once in a while, before finally calling it an early night.

I had wondered how late Susan would be; my concern was needless since she was waiting for me on the sofa, when I walked in the door. She was subdued, not at all like her normal jolly self, but she seemed to have better control of herself than I did. She started to speak, but I held my hand out, palm up, halting her, and speaking first.

"Don't know about you, but I could use a good cup of coffee. I think there's enough left in the carafe for two." She followed me into the kitchen, waiting patiently at the table while I microwaved us a couple coffees.

Fixing Susan's just the way she liked it, one sugar two creamers, I handed her the cup, and plopped down across from her. I wanted to see her face while she talked, because my little Susan couldn't lie worth a fuck; she got a little tic in her right eyelid anytime she was telling a fib and I really don't think she was aware of it.

"Will you believe me when I say I love you?" She sounded on the very edge of tears. There was no tic.

"Funny way of showing it." Shit! My voice was breaking up almost as bad as hers.

"I'm so sorry I've hurt you." She reached over to take my hand. "Believe, me, I never meant to hurt you."

"Why, Susan? What did I do?"

"You do? You didn't do anything—this isn't about you—you're wonderful..."

"Yeah, that's me—Mister Wonderful, so wonderful my wife has to get her satisfaction fucking other guys."

A tear ran down her cheek; she dabbed it away with the tissue. "Not other guys, just one guy, and he's special. You just don't understand."

I'd been fighting to keep control since I walked in; when she came up with that 'You don't understand' I almost lost it. I took a couple deep breaths before I trusted myself to speak. "You're right, Susan, I don't understand; I don't understand how a woman, I love more than life itself, can do what you're doing."

I stomped over to freshen up my coffee. I offered to do hers but she put her hand over her cup. "Why don't you explain what I don't understand?"

"Where do I start...?"

I cut her off. "Where to start? Start at the beginning—the night I overheard you questioning Andy about his father."

"But that's not really the beginning." She got a faraway look as she continued. "No, it begins much further back than that night; it goes back to our school days. Back to the night Butch's family left town just after graduation. You know Butch and I were a hot article all through high school, don't you?"

I nodded my head.

"Well, he was my first and only lover besides you. I thought the sun rose and set in that man. If he had stayed around, I'd be his wife now instead of yours." Apparently she saw how that statement seemed to tear the heart out of me. She quickly tried to add, "But he didn't, and I started dating you—I'm, your wife now, and I always will be."

"But do you still want to be?"

"Do I want to . . .? Of course I want to be your wife! If I didn't, I'd file for divorce." She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "Please let me finish what I have to say without interruption. When I finish, I'll answer any questions truthfully, but you need to know the entire story first."

"You have the floor." I was determined to just listen, regardless of how much I wanted to retort."

"That last night Butch and I were together, we went to his Uncle Bill's lake house. It was just the two of us and for the first time we could get naked and enjoy ourselves, without worrying about getting caught. If you remember most of our classmates had that beach house for the weekend, so we'd told our parents we were going there. Well, we did, just not until the next day, so no one questioned our whereabouts.

"Anyway, that's when it began, that's when Butch told me about his leaving town with his family and that's when we promised each other we'd get together again, for one last fling, no matter what our status might be. I had forgot about that after falling in love with you, didn't even think about Butch for years—until that night Adam walked in our door. I was looking at my first lover all over again, and almost fainted. Very few sons are such remarkable copies of their father. I swear, for a moment there, I thought I'd gone back in time.

"That's when I realized the old saying, about a girl never forgetting her first lover, was true. Everything, every memory, came rushing back. That long forgotten promise, all the good times, everything, it all hit me like a sledge hammer, and I knew before the boys went back to college that I had to stay away from Butch, or I'd mess up our marriage. I knew that, Jack, I knew it as sure as I knew anything—and yet, when Butch wrote and asked if he could give me a call; it was like I went crazy. A call followed the letter; he asked if we could meet and I said 'Yes, we could have lunch.'

"That lunch led to another; he reminded me of our promise to have a last fling. I admitted that I remembered, but told him I'd have to back out, but he turned on the old charm and we started having lunch almost every day. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't seem to say no to him. With each meeting, I thought more and more about our time together. Sometime along the way, he stopped sitting in the booth across from me and moved beside me, touching led to other things and I realized I was falling back in love with him."

"Well, I guess that says it all." I stood up, my heart was breaking, but I was determined not to break down or do any of the other things bubbling just beneath the surface of my emotions.

She jumped up; rushing to my side, she grabbed my right arm and held on so tight it actually hurt. "No! That does not say it all! Yes, I said I love him, you don't think I'm such a slut that I'd give myself to a man I didn't love, do you? I didn't say I fell out of love with you—I love you just as much as I always did."

"That ain't making me feel very good, you know. What you just said is that you never did love me as much as you loved him. You didn't walk away from him, to go to me; you got with me after he walked away from you."

"You got it all wrong—well, maybe it does sound like that, but that's not the way it is. Think back—have I ever left you wanting sex since I started seeing Butch?"

I thought about it and realized she was right; in fact, I was getting laid much more than before, but I wasn't going to admit it—not just now anyway.

"Answer me! Have you had a hard-on I didn't take care of?"

"How about every Wednesday and Friday night that you were out with that Asshole?"

"Don't disparage Butch. I didn't let him talk trash about you and I won't let you run him down, at least not behind his back."

"Damn! You do love him, don't you?"

"Yes! But not as much as I love you! You didn't answer my question; did I come home on any Wednesday or Friday night and reject any of your advances? Did I?"

I had to admit she hadn't, rather several times she had rushed in, showered and dragged me off to bed for a 'royal fucking'. Now that I knew she'd just been with her lover, I wondered how she had the energy to do it.

"You may not know it—or now that I realize you did know about us, maybe you did it on purpose—but a couple times lately, I was supposed to meet Butch and you insisted on making love. Every time that happened, I always stayed with you and Butch was the one that had to go lacking. Boy! That pissed him off too."

Inwardly I grinned; damn right I knew and meant to mess up their plans. And yes, she was right, she had been keeping me up like never before, but I still couldn't continue to live like this.

"Tell me, Susan, just where do you see this thing going; where will we be in say—a year?"

She thought a minute. "I hadn't really thought it out that far; I guess I figured I'd just continue like this until my libido faded, or until Butch found another woman, then we'd go back to just you and me with some good memories and some fantastic sex under our belts."

"Meanwhile I would be your willing cuckold—is that how you see it?"

"No Baby! Not my cuckold—my number one husband. You get the best of everything; Butch only gets the scraps off your table."

"So I'm your number one, suppose I told you I wanted to be your one and only?" I'm afraid her face gave me the answer even before she spoke.

"Are you going to demand I stop seeing Butch?"

"No Susan, I'm not. You might have noticed, but I've been trying to change, trying to be everything I thought you wanted a husband to be."

"So that explains the regular eating out, the chick flicks, the long walks in the park, the cuddling while watching TV and tonight I find out you even learned to dance, just for me. Wow!"

"You caught me. I love you enough to do anything—almost. Know what? In doing these things, I found out I really like them. Amazing, isn't it? I set out to win my wife back and discover a whole new me."

"You did all that to win me back? But you never lost me; I have always been yours—just in a different way."

"Could have fooled me." Did this woman actually not see the problem? "I don't see how you can love two people at the same time."

"Oh, no?" She came to me, hugging me tightly, her hips pressing against mine, her arms around my neck. "Think a minute; when Charlie was born—did you love him?"

"You know I did."

"Well, when Tina was born—did you love her?"

"Damn right I did, you know that without asking."

"Yes, but did you love Charlie any less?"

I was at a loss for words. "This is different; you can't love two men."

"Why not? Charlie is a man, and you are a man; I love both of you."

"Damn it! You know it's not the same thing."

With a sigh, Susan went back to her chair. "Okay, Jack; if what I see for us in the future won't work, just what do you see for us? Are you going to insist I stop seeing Butch; are you going to file for divorce—what? I'll meet your demands."

I took my time forming my answer; this would probably be the most important question I'd ever answer, second only to accepting Jesus. "Nooo, Susan; I'm not demanding you do anything you don't want to do. I'm sure you'd quit if I asked—for now; but you'd soon resent me and sooner or later you'd fall in love again, and this time you'd probably make sure I didn't find out.

"However, I will not continue living as a knowing cuckold. Do you remember back when Charlie was little and had that coyote pup he was trying to tame?" She indicated she did. "Well, do you remember what I said to him when the pup started feeling the call of the wild and kept trying to get away?"