Teaching a Lesson

What my wife failed to mention during our two hour long conversation was Patti had been working on her all week to go out partying Saturday night. Patti said she was going to move back home in Indianapolis until she figured things out and claimed this would be the last chance they had to go out for who knows how long. She taunted, "We can go after you report in to the warden."

All week long Patti had kept up the pressure assuring Dianne. "Don't worry, he'll never find out. Just tell him we went out to dinner. I mean he does let you go out to eat, doesn't he?

Saturday morning Patti announced she found a great bar that had a live band and dancing. Even better, an old friend of hers was the bass player; "C'mon, we'll hang with the band and get free drinks," she assured me.

By late afternoon she wore Dianne down into going for dinner and one drink. My innocent wife foolishly believed her.

As class dismissed the next day a few of my classmates invited me to go for a drink at the hotel bar. I declined and called Dianne as I walked to my room. Not good; my call went immediately to voice mail. I left a quick message, "Hi honey, I'm out of class, call me." Next I checked my laptop. Among the dozen messages was one from my wife, "Going to dinner with Patti. Call you later." It was time stamped over three hours earlier. Now I was really pissed.

I hit redial. Again I got her "Sorry you missed me recording..." I sent her a text message.

"Hi honey...I got your message about going to dinner. It's eight o'clock your time so I can't understand why you're not picking up. Call me the moment you get this.

I waited fifteen minutes before I redialed. "Dianne, I'm starting to get concerned. Call me." I followed this up with another text message.

I had a sense of foreboding as I dialed Patti. Her recording said, "I'm busy but leave your number and maybe I'll call ya' later, maybe I won't." I left a message, "Patti, I need to need to talk to Dianne immediately."

At 8:30, Chicago time, I made one last try to reach my wife, "Honey, the only reason I can imagine you're not answering or returning my calls is you're either in a coma or dead. If you're neither I would strongly suggest you drop whatever you're doing and call me."

If I didn't have people spying on my wife I would have been on the next flight back to Chicago. Instead, my next call went to Bobby. I explained that even though I called the same time every night, Dianne wasn't answering.

"Rich, I got some bad news. Your wife picked up Patti at five. They were both dressed to the nines. I followed them to The End of the Line, a nasty bar that attracted every scumbag, low life mother-fucker from two counties. I'm sitting out in the lot but our friends are inside keeping a close eye on her."

We agreed the way it would go down would be one of the outs would show up wherever Dianne went and attempt to talk her up. This would be a test to see if she would blow them off because she was a married woman. If she didn't send him packing he was to push to see if my wife would cheat on me. I had to know.

The moment they walked in Patti started in on Dianne, taunting her for being a "goody two shoes. Don't worry, the warden's not here watching you. Have some fun" as she ran off to dance with a strange man.

Out one was ready to pounce. He claimed the stool next to her before anyone else could. "It looks like your friend abandoned you." He replied. "So how about I keep you company until she gets back."

He waved to the bartender and a round of drinks appeared.

"Our friend was drinking and dancing with Dianne until the band took a break. It's a little loud in there but I could hear most of the conversation. Cheer up buddy, the moment our boy said hello she announced she was happily married but her friend was newly single."

"So far your wife has had three vodka gimlets, and they make them mighty strong here. But when our boy put his hands on her ass while they danced she cracked him so hard across the face everyone turned around."

"Let the outs know Dianne never drinks that much."

"Will do. But there's a problem. It seems Patti knows one of the losers in the band. It's a crappy cover band, four guys who don't know the words to half of what they're trying to play. When they took a break, Patti dragged Dianne to meet them. They followed the band out back to smoke some weed. I'm watching them right now acting like two stupid teenage girls. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to teach her a lesson. Make her car disappear," was my response. A minute after the band went back inside Bobby drove off into the darkness.

A couple minutes later One Out sent me a text, "babysitting."

I left Dianne another voice mail.

Several regulars staggered over and asked if they could buy the lady a drink. One Out gave each a menacing glare until they backed off. Besides, he had already backed her up with two virgin gimlets.

When the band finally played something recognizable Dianne begged him to let her dance. He took her hand and led her out on the floor only this time he didn't get slapped when he groped her ass. 'No more alcohol for her tonight,' he thought.

At the end of the set the band announced they were taking a smoke break. Patti grabbed Dianne coming out of the ladies room and they followed the four parasites and their friends staggering out the back door.

Surveillance was handed off. Patti was the center of attention as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her surgically enhanced breasts rode high and proud on a satin shelf bra. Someone produced a bottle of tequila and they began doing shots off her impressive cleavage. When Dianne saw what was happening she tried to flee to the safety of the well lit bar.

A couple of losers intercepted her and dragged her towards the darkness beyond the gravel parking lot. She was screaming bloody murder as they tore at her sweater, ripping it open to expose her black bra. She fought like a banshee to get away but was no match for the pair.

Those poor slobs never knew what hit them. Out Two appeared out of nowhere and knocked both out cold. He smiled and said, "Don't worry ma'am, they won't be bothering you anymore."

Dianne clutched what was left of her sweater, stammered a "thank you," and ran back towards the bar's lights. She soon spotted an empty parking space where she had parked her Mustang.

One Out said she burst into the bar swearing like a sailor that her car was stolen.

Naturally, this put quite the damper on the evening's festivities.

It took the police better than an hour to show up to take a report; by then her prized possession was on fire in a quarry on the other side of town. One Out stayed with her until the police arrived and tried to sober her up by pouring black coffee into her.

At about 2 A.M. I received a text that said, "OK but bad day. Home now. I call U in AM." That damn near put me over the top.

I called her cell phone and got voice mail. I called her every name I could think of as I pounded out the numbers of our land line; as I expected the answering machine picked up. It was on the counter in the kitchen but it was loud enough to hear everywhere in the house. I screamed "If you don't answer this fuckin' phone you had better not be there when I come home!"

It took only a few seconds before she picked up. "I'm sorry, I though you would be sleeping." She slurred her words.

"You're drunk...here I am worried that something happened and you're out getting shit faced. Let me guess, with that cunt Patti."

She began crying, "Please don't yell at me."

"I am not yelling. Now go make yourself a pot of real strong coffee. I'll wait. We have a lot to talk about."

When she returned to the phone she still sounded like hell.

My voice was loud and firm. "Where have you been for the last nine hours?"

She began to wail, "Someone stole my Mustang."

"Where? When?"

Dianne was rather evasive on where it happened saying only it was stolen while she was having dinner with Patti.

I tried to control my anger, "I know you're upset but where were you when it got stolen?"

"We were at dinner."

"You told me that. Now, what is the name of the restaurant where the car was stolen from?"

"It's late and I feel sick. Can't we talk about this in the morning?"

"No, I want to know where my wife was when her car was stolen."

"It was some restaurant Patti knows. Now can I lie down to clear up my head?"

"Does this restaurant have a name?" I tried to keep my tone civil.

"Please let me go to sleep. I've been at the police station forever and I can barely stay awake."

I was furious and said, "I don't care what time it is. Dianne, you really fucked up big time and you're only making it worse. Call me when you're ready to tell the truth." I slammed the phone down and picked up my laptop. I started looking for a ticket on the next flight to Chicago.

Dianne called a minute later to say she had something to confess. "I'm sorry, I should have been honest with you from the start but I was afraid you would get mad. We went to hear a friend of Patti's in a band. They were playing at a small bar outside town."

"What is the name of the bar?" I demanded.

After a long pause she relied in a soft voice, "End of the Line."

I lost my temper and screamed "How stupid are you! The only women who go there are whores and women who want to become whores!"

She started sobbing.

When I calmed down I asked, "Did you lie to the police too?

"No, they came to the restaurant to take the report.

"Stop lying to me. You didn't go to a restaurant, you went to a shit hole dive bar."

"Honest to God, I didn't do anything. We were sitting at the bar having a drink, enjoying the music."

"And you're going to expect me to believe that two hot looking blondes in that bar weren't getting hit on by every scumbag. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"We, I, ignored most of them. I did let a nice guy buy me a drink but I told him I was happily married but my friend was available."

"So what were you wearing?" Bobby had sent me a couple pix which one of the outs had shot. "Your denim mini-skirt and a tight black sweater?"

It took a few seconds for Dianne to compose herself enough to stammer, "No, no, I had pants on and a blazer over my sweater. Honest."

I didn't want to tip my hand by pushing it too far and replied, "I find it mighty hard to believe that those low life bastards weren't on you like white on rice."

"Honest, I swear I'm not lying now.

She damn near choked when I said "I hope not because I will get a copy of the theft report from our insurance agent."

Dianne made a sickly noise like an asthmatic fighting to breathe.

"So I guess one of your new friends decided if he couldn't have my wife he'd take her car." Dianne started crying again. "What did you think would happen when you took your car there? You're damn lucky they didn't take you too. I told you nothing good would happen if you hung out with Patti."

"I'm so sorry. I promise I'll never lie to you again."

The last thing I said was she should sleep with her phone next to her pillow. "I don't care if you're at work or sitting on the toilet, you had better answer the phone every time I call. You are not going to get a second chance."

I called at 9 AM sharp Chicago time, denying her the sleep she needed. She sounded like shit. I asked her if she had anything else she wanted to tell me.

"No, but I'm getting a little worried. Patti hasn't shown up."

"I'm sure a girl with her talents had no problem finding a bed to sleep in."

My next call was to Bobby. He confirmed my fear that if we hadn't intervened the evening would have had a very bad ending. "If our boy hadn't cold cocked those two assholes in the parking lot I hate to think what would have happened to her."

We spent the next hour on the phone with Bobby filling me in on everything that transpired with the outs. They were both in agreement that Dianne showed really poor judgment but wouldn't have cheated on me.

"Damn, my cheek still hurts from where she slapped me," One Out said. "And while we waited for the cops all she did was talk about how bad she screwed up and how much she loved you."

Even though it was Sunday I had class all day. I had a hell of a time concentrating after what Bobby had told me. But I soldiered on. We got a fifteen minute break every two hours and I called home on the land line to make sure she was really there.

Each time Dianne sounded happy to hear from me. I guess she thought as long as I was still calling she had gotten away with it. When we spoke after lunch she suggested we share a virtual dinner that evening.

I was very impressed with the outfit she barely had on.

When I woke her Monday she thanked me for the wonderful evening but again expressed concern that Patti hadn't shown up. "I've tried her cell a dozen times but it goes straight to voice mail."

'Now you know what its like to have someone not answering their phone when you're worried about them."

All day Monday I called her at work during every break. Each time she answered on the first ring which took some effort.

At lunch time we had more time to talk. She was getting very worried something bad happened to Patti. I thought, 'I hope that bitch never shows up,' while saying "If she's not there when you get home from work you should call the police.

It was early evening before I was able to get a copy of the police report. I waited until I was in my hotel room to call. Dianne answered her phone on the first ring and said, "Hello my beloved."

My voice was a lot less amorous. "I have the theft report and I've spoken with the police officer and bartender. I will give you exactly one last chance to tell me the whole truth or my next call is to a divorce lawyer."

Dianne totally lost it. In between sobs she managed to say "I'm sorry" several times but nothing more.

"You must really think I'm stupid. Well I've had enough of your I'm sorry bull shit. You are a liar. I do not believe a word you are saying. Officer Renwick said you were dressed like a prostitute. He also said you reeked of pot and blew better than twice the legal limit. So if your car hadn't been stolen I can only assume you would be in jail for a DUI right now.

That is unless your new friends slipped something into your drink. Yeah, that's happened last month to a woman who was stupid enough to go to that shit hole alone...she got drugged and raped in the parking lot. Maybe that's what happened to Patti."

Dianne gasped than began crying again. "But I guess you lead a charmed life. Officer Renwick said a mystery man in black came out of the shadows and kept you from being sexually assaulted. Oh, I guess you forgot to tell me that. So, for the last time, what else have you lied to me about?"

Dianne was sobbing so hard I couldn't understand her. I challenged her, "Give me one reason I shouldn't divorce you."

After a long pause she whispered, "I...I have none."

"Then this conversation is ended." I could hear my wife pleading with me.

"It's been a long day and I have to get ready for class."

She was crying so hard I could barely make out, "Please Rich don't hang up."

"I'll give you until tomorrow morning to come up with one reason, just one reason, why we should stay married."

* * * * * * * * * *

The red eye lifted off from O'Hare Airport exactly on time. The 737 was packed and Dianne was thrilled to have gotten a full fare ticket. She spent the flight rehearsing what she was going to say to save her marriage. When her seatmate tried to make conversation she shut him down saying, "I have to prepare for the biggest presentation of my life." He consoled himself by staring at her long legs.

The plane landed at LAX at 5AM and fifteen minutes later she was in a cab headed towards destiny.

Dianne told the deck clerk she wanted to surprise her husband. He studied her Drivers License before telling her Rich's room number; top floor, room 815. "Is there somewhere I can freshen up?"

Dianne had the ladies room to herself as she carefully touched-up her make-up. When she was satisfied she went into one of the stalls to change. She opened the plastic bag and took out the lingerie Rich had given her on her last birthday. It was still new in the package. As she hooked the backseamed nylons to the garter belt she decided not to wear the matching thong. The lace bra lifted her breasts and put them on display. She stuffed the skirt and blouse she had worn on the plane into the bag then put the black wrap dress on. She paused and looked at the mirror one more time before walking to the elevator.

When she got off on the 8th floor she could see people walking on the balconies which overlooked the large lobby.

Dianne had been toying with an idea. Rich always said he could never stay mad at her when she was naked. She looked down the corridor but couldn't see anyone. She steeled her reserve and said, "It's now or never" as she slipped off her dress. The warm wetness between her legs gave her confidence. She rolled it up and added it to her bag. At the last moment she was inspired to stuff the bag behind the ice machine.

Room 815 was all the way at the far end of the building. She should have taken the other elevator bank but it was too late to go back now. As she walked down the long corridor her nipples got redder and harder than she had ever seen before. She could hear voices in a couple of the rooms as she walked past.

She listened to the door on Rich's room for a moment before she knocked. There was no answer. She nearly panicked when she heard the elevator ding and two businessmen exited. They looked at the sign then walked the other way.

Dianne covered the peephole and knocked again. A horrible thought struck her, 'What if he's not alone.'

"Who's there?"

She said, "Room service" in her best Spanish accent.

"Go away. I'm sleeping."

She knocked again.

"Go away."

Dianne's knocked again. The door flew open and Rich bellowed, "Don't you understand English?"

Dianne screamed "because I love you more than life itself and I swear I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you! That's why we shouldn't get divorced."

Rich didn't say a word. Instead he stepped aside and beckoned her to enter. Dianne's face lit up as she threw her arms around his neck and began kissing him. She could feel his cock get hard through his shorts.

"So what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Make passionate love."

"Okay, but I have to be in class in a couple hours."

"Then let's not waste any time talking!"

That line was almost a deal killer. Rich froze for a moment then said, "At the moment I can't think of a thing I want to talk about." Seconds later we were embracing like newlyweds.

As he was getting ready for class Rich joked, "Did they make you take your heels off when you went through security wearing that?" I laughed and said, "I didn't get naked until I got off the elevator."

I walked Rich to the elevator wearing one of his shirts. To his amusement, I retrieved my clothes from behind the ice machine then gave him a big kiss.

"Call me when you're on break and I'll meet you outside the conference room." I got to meet his classmates. Sorry Patti, they were 100% male and my husband was the pick of the litter.

That night Rich took me to a very fancy restaurant where he had reserved a private corner booth. He found my wrap dress very convenient.

When we returned to the room Rich loosened the tie and my dress puddled around my ankles. He placed his palm on my stomach then got the strangest expression. "Don't you feel that?" He took my hand and placed it on my belly. I looked at his face...I have never seen him look more excited. He covered my hand with his and bade me not to talk. I looked in his eyes and watched a glow cover his face. Immediately I knew the secret, we had conceived a son that morning.