The Admonition

He smirked as he emphasized the word 'unwanted' and continued sarcastically:

"So, if your old lady is getting some strange cock on the side, it ain't mine. Maybe you should take a look in the mirror and see what she ain't getting at home."

I wanted nothing more than to rip his head off but I knew he was goading me to do just that, so I just growled:

"You've been warned, mother fucker, and if I were you I'd take it real seriously."

I was working the evening shift over the weekend but life at home was happy and normal. Saturday night when I got home Arlene was waiting up for me in her red, see through, negligee and our love making was fantastic. She even got me up for a second round with her mouth about six that morning.

Several weeks had passed since my confrontation with Wellaton and as I expected I had heard nothing from my bosses in the way of a complaint. During that time, I had been able to check, on several occasions, to see if there were any lunch time rendezvous, and there were none. Of course, I couldn't be there every day but I figured he had either gotten the message or was laying low. I suspected the latter but was hoping for the former. Assholes like him wouldn't sit still for being so personally demeaned.

Unfortunately, after a few more weeks I had become even more complacent and when Arlene announced that the girls were throwing Shelly a surprise baby shower after work on Friday, I didn't think much of it. However, I did recall the comments in the bathroom at the picnic and wondered what color hair the baby would have.

Thursday night, after dinner, Arlene was wrapping a shower grift with blue and pink paper and ribbon to take with her in the morning. I was working the day shift on Friday so I was out of the house before my wife left for work.

Friday afternoon I got home about four and relieved the babysitter. The boys and I shot some hoops in the driveway for about an hour and then I began to prepare dinner. Arlene had said the shower was being held from 6 to 10 at the American Legion Hall, which was about twenty minutes from us. At 10:30 I started to be mildly concerned, but certainly not suspicious at being twenty minutes late. At 10:45 my paranoia was kicking in and I called her pager.

A few minutes later she called and said that she would be home in about fifteen minutes and that everybody had hung around afterwards for coffee.

When she arrived home, she looked normal except for slightly glassy eyes which I attributed to the wine or punch or whatever she had consumed. I asked her how the shower went and she answered briefly, saying:

"Fine. Everybody had a good time and Shelly was thrilled."

Usually when Arlene has a few drinks she gets pretty frisky so I thought I might be in for a little action since it was still early but when we got to our bedroom and I moved in for a kiss she begged off saying that the wine had given her a headache and gave me a "raincheck" for the following evening.

After we got into bed she gave me a fairly chaste goodnight kiss, told me that she loved me and turned on her side to reach over and shut the light off. Normally she would snuggle next to me but that night she just remained on her side and seemed to doze off.

I wasn't concerned so I dropped off to sleep fairly quickly. I am usually a sound sleeper but sometime later I awoke. It was one of those times when you wake up unexpectedly and aren't sure exactly what woke you. I laid quietly listening for what roused me but the house was still and quiet. In a few moments, as my sleepiness slowly dissipated I realized that it wasn't a noise that had woken me it was movement and even though we weren't touching, as I lay on my back and my wife on her side I could detect the sporadic tremble in her body. There was enough ambient light in the room that I could see and as I slowly turned my head, saw that Arlene had the pillow wrapped around her head and I could just make out the sound of stifled sobs.

I didn't reveal that I was awake but just laid there with a sick feeling growing in my soul. Eventually she dozed off but I laid awake for most of the night, just thinking. At around 5:30 I quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind me. In between the bath and the bedroom there were two small walk in closets on either side, a "his and hers", if you will. We each had a clothes hamper and I opened Arlene's closet and turned on the light.

At this point my heart was pounding and I was praying that I wouldn't find what I was looking for. Unfortunately, about halfway down the dirty clothes I extracted a pair of black panties that had what could only be seamen drying in the crotch. My heart sank and my knees buckled so that I had to lean against the wall in order not to collapse.

I stood there looking at the evidence for what seemed like a half hour but was probably only five minutes. I replaced the panties to their original position and went back to bed not knowing how I was going to deal with this. Feeling my movement in the bed, Arlene, although still asleep, instinctively snuggled into my shoulder with her arm over my chest. I didn't remove it but neither did I respond. I just laid there with images of her betrayal racing through my mind.

I had choices to make and I would have to make them soon. I could confront her with the irrefutable evidence and just file for divorce. I could demand a confession and put her on a short leash if she exhibited genuine sorrow and regret. From her previously sobbing into her pillow I was pretty sure that she already regretted her transgression. Confronting her and extracting my psychological pound of flesh would jeopardize the plan for revenge that had started to form in my brain.

She didn't hear me the next morning as I stood in the threshold to the kitchen. She was standing away from the countertop with her hands leaning on it and her head hanging down, just shaking it back and forth, as if in denial. When the boys came in for breakfast she was extra affectionate to them, hugging each one, tightly and kissing the tops of their heads. I managed to remain as nonchalant as possible while avoiding any intimate contact. Considering, our previous "touchy-feely" relationship, I think she began to feel some paranoia as to whether I suspected anything from her previous night's behavior.

When I left for work, without a kiss and just a "goodbye" I could see in her eyes that she was starting to deal with her own demons and, sadistic as it was, I derived more.

than a little satisfaction from that. I had my own demons to deal with and one of them was "Nick the Prick, Wellaton.

Over the next few days Arlene was very loving towards me but I remained somewhat aloof, finding reasons not to make love when we went to bed at night. As each day passed she became more nervous and fidgety. I realized that I was only forestalling the inevitable and that a confrontation was inevitable. On the fourth night, after the boys went to their rooms and Arlene was clearing the kitchen table, reentering the kitchen I stepped up behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. She literally jumped out of her skin, shrieked and dropped a glass she was holding into the sink where it shattered against the porcelain.

Spinning around, with her hand on her chest, she exclaimed:

"Oh my God, Mike, you scared me to death"

She started to pick up the pieces but I said firmly:

"Leave that. Come inside with me I need to discuss something with you".

The look on her face could only be described as sheer panic but she dutifully followed me to the living room. As I sat in an arm chair she gingerly sat perched on the edge of the sofa, across from me.

This was going to be the most difficult conversation I had ever had in my life and not having rehearsed anything, I got right to the point:

"Arlene, I know you have been having an affair and I know with who".

To her credit she did not start to spout any of the usual platitudes that spouses who are caught cheating usually regurgitate, she just slumped back into her chair and putting both hands over her face, began to softly sob.

I was trying to project an image of rectitude but internally my heart was pounding and my bowels were stirring, but I continued:

"Not only have you broken your vows but, more importantly, you've broken my heart. But, before I continue I have one question, your answer to which may negate the need for further discussion. Have you fallen out of love with me?"

"Oh my God, Mike, no —————please, Mike ——, no, no never think that ————please."

She jumped off the sofa and was hurrying towards me but I put up both of my hands and said, forcefully:

"Sit back down, Arlene".

She stood there, half way between us with a grief stricken look on her face as she wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

"Please, sit down, I said more gently. We have a lot to discuss and what you say right now may determine the course of our marriage." No matter how difficult it may be for you ———, and me———, I need the truth".

I was pretty sure, or at least I was hoping, that I knew the answers to the questions I was about to pose but they had to be asked if I was going to get any closure.

"First of all, how long has this been going on? How many times have you had sex with him?"

Agony was written all over her face and then she began to hiccup, which was not unusually for my wife when she became overwhelmed. I stood slowly and said:

"I have to use the bathroom and I'll get you some water. When I come back I will expect you to tell me everything. Just remember that I know a lot more than you think", I lied.

I barely made it to the bowl before my bowels released and as I sat there I was getting nauseous at the prospect of having to go back and hear the lurid details of my wife's betrayal.

When I eventually made it back to the living room with a glass of water and a box of tissues, Arlene's hiccups had subsided but she gulped the water, gratefully. A look of, what I can only describe as, anguished determination was written on her face. She looked at me with puffy red eyes and began hesitantly:

"I know it sounds trite now but at no time did I ever stop loving you, not for a minute, not even a second. I can't begin to describe how ashamed I am, not that I got caught, but that I succumbed to temptation. I've wanted to confess but I was too afraid of losing you———, losing our family. I knew something was wrong the morning after the shower when you didn't kiss me goodbye or tell me that you love me. The last three days have been hell for me and now I know they must have been hell for you too, knowing that your wife had betrayed you in the worst possible way."

"I don't know what got into me —————

She momentarily grimaced at her choice of words but recovered quickly.

—————, I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn't."

She was no longer looking at me but rather past me as she went on:

"Nick is a master of seduction and even though I knew he had a short fling with another girl in the office, I allowed it to continue. I was flattered that this young, handsome guy could be interested in an older married woman and he plied his craft gradually, with compliments. He always had something nice to say ————, about my hair, my outfit, my perfume and eventually how sexy I was and what a fantastic figure I had."

"When he eventually asked me to lunch I convinced myself that there was no harm with going to lunch with a colleague. I made excuses to myself as to why I wouldn't mention it to my husband. That should have been my first clue but I chose to ignore it and feed on his flattery, so I snuck out to lunch with him several more times. I convinced myself that it was okay, there was no intimacy other than him maybe putting his hand on my waist as he guided me through a door or briefly put his hand on mine at the table in order to emphasize a point- - - - - and one time, in the car, I kissed him and let him touch my breast. However, the conversations became more intimate, not in a sexual way but in a personal manner. He confided to me that he had a loveless marriage and that he believed his wife was having an affair with a doctor she worked with but because of the children they stayed together".

"I told him how we had a great marriage and how proud I was of you and our boys. He was supportive and told me how great it must be to have a sexy, vibrant wife to share one's life with. Even though he was attractive and attentive I never once thought of him as anything other than a friend. I was deluding myself, telling myself that the only reason I didn't mention the lunches to you was that you might become unnecessarily jealous but, thinking back, I should have seen that I was falling into his trap."

Arlene stopped talking for a moment and after looking at me briefly with a pleading expression, looked away again and in a shaky voice, continued:

"Oh God, Mike, this is so hard to admit, so difficult to say, but you asked me how many times".

After a brief pause and a deep breath, she forced herself to go on.

"It was really only that one time after the shower. He had convinced me that he needed to be with me just once. He told me that he knew we could never be lovers and that he knew I loved my husband but if just once he could experience my 'total essence", he would be satisfied".

She started shaking her head as if trying to push the memory away and grabbed some tissues as the tears began anew. Looking down at her feet and with words intermingled with sobs, she said:

"I can't say I wasn't a little excited at the prospect. You're the only man I have ever been with and the newness and naughtiness overcame my reason. The night of the shower I made an excuse as to why I had to leave early and I met him at a motel".

Something she had said lingered in the back of my head and I interrupted her with a question.

"You said that it was 'really only that one time. That's a qualifying statement Arlene. What did you mean by 'really', I think there is something you are leaving out".

"Please, Mike, don't make me say anymore. I'm so ashamed as it is. You can't imagine how difficult this is for me".

"GOD DAMN IT, ARLENE, I yelled, you think it's difficult for you, how do you think I'm feeling right now. My wife lied to me on numerous occasions and culminated the lies of omission by having sex in a motel with a serial womanizer. You either tell me what 'really' means or this conversation is over".

She was blubbering so hard now that I knew an answer wouldn't be forthcoming until she regained some control. My previous calm demeanor was dissipating quickly so before I said something I'd regret, I said angrily:

I have to get something to drink. My intention as I entered the kitchen was to get some water and gather my wits about me but I decided that a scotch might be more appropriate for what may be coming next. I stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes sipping my drink and giving Arlene time to compose herself. When I returned to my chair with a fresh scotch my wife's sobs had subsided somewhat. I sat and waited.

Finally, she mustered the courage to continue.

"I told you about the retirement luncheon we had for Sgt. Mosgrove two weeks ago. The captain gave us all an extra hour and manned the phones himself while we were gone. We all went to Mulligan's Irish pub since it was close and most everyone was having beer or drinks he———, Nick, convinced me to have a Cosmo instead of white wine. You know I rarely have hard liquor and by the time the time the party was over I had had three."

"Arlene, get to the point", I growled

She was stalling for time. I knew it and she knew it, so I was dreading whatever was coming next.

"Okay, she said weakly. It's just that———well, I just can't————, I had too much to drink————

ARLENE!

"Okay, Okay! We had only been back at the office for a short time when the captain asked me to go upstairs to the file room and retrieve some folders that he needed. Nick must have overheard because I was only in there a minute or two and my back was to the door. When I heard someone enter I was startled and when I turned around he put his arms around me and started kissing me. I tried pushing him away but when he persisted I found myself kissing back. I was still buzzed and when he slipped his hand under my blouse I didn't resist. He tried to put his hand under my skirt a few times but I kept pushing it away. I don't know when or how he managed it but when he took my hand and pulled it down to his crotch his erect penis was sticking out. He had managed to move my bra up and with one hand he was fondling my breast and the other he had over my hand and was stroking his penis."

I was getting turned on but I was terrified that someone would walk in on us. I was trying to break away but he wasn't taking 'no' for an answer and kept teasing me about following me downstairs with a lump in his pants. I was getting more and more anxious about how long I was taking to find the folders and fearing that someone would come looking for me so when he put his hand behind my head and started to push it down, — — — —, I sort of gave him a blow job".

She started to say something else but I yelled:

"JESUS, ARLENE, HOW DO YOU GIVE SOMEONE ——— A SORT OF BLOW JOB?

"I know I sound like some kind of whore and believe me that's how I felt but I needed to get out of there so I hurriedly did it but when I could feel that he was close I moved off of him and aimed it at the floor with my hand."

For emphasis she added:

"I didn't let him cum in my mouth. I know what this sounds like and I can't even believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. All I can say in my own defense is that I love you with all of my heart and I foolishly got caught up in something that I will forever be ashamed of.

After some hesitation she added:

"There's something else I have to tell you"

"Fuck! What more could there be, I thought. I was afraid to ask, so I didn't, I just sat there dumbfounded and stared at her.

Before we even got in the room the other night I knew that this was never going happen again. I was so nervous that I was nauseous. I kept asking myself: "why are you doing this. Why are you risking everyone and everything I love for a stupid 'experience'?

After being in the room awhile he sensed my lack of enthusiasm and started to act aggressively, pushing me onto the bed and roughly removing my clothes. At that point I wanted to just run out of the room, even half naked. Eventually, he must have realized that this wasn't going to be the romantic tryst he had envisioned and he just took me. After he finished he tried to convince me to stay, saying it was just my nerves and the next time I would really enjoy it. He tried to excuse his behavior by telling me he had waited so long that he couldn't control himself and he just got carried away.

Tears were leaking from my eyes and when I told him that there would be no next time, not tonight— ——, not ever, he got up and took something off the dresser that looked like a camera and said:

"Well, don't worry Sweetie, there will be a next time and once you get over your inhibitions, you'll be begging for more. Especially if you don't want your hubby to see this video".

" I was mortified and furious and if I had had a knife I would have stabbed him. I couldn't believe how stupid I had been to have been played so easily by such a conniving bastard. I didn't even clean myself, I just threw my clothes on and demanded that he take me back to my car. He tried to soothe me with his words of flattery on the ride back but I just stared out of the side window and tried not to break down".

"I was shaking so much and crying so hard that I just sat in my car for a half hour before I could even attempt to drive. It took every ounce of courage I had to walk through that front door and know I would be facing the man that I love __ __ __, the man I had betrayed"