The Blanket Policy

This is a work of fiction; none of these people exist or make a difference anywhere but here. Similarly I have come to the conclusion that most anonymous comment posters inhabit that same dimension. Enjoy.

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The Blanket Policy

A Bit of History

It all started back in the winter of '78. That epic winter featured brutal cold, ass deep snow, and biting winds. To some people that was the roughest winter of the ages in the Midwest. I was a child then but can remember the weather, mostly how it affected school and our daily lives. No doubt the memories were enhanced by viewing my Grandfathers Super 8 films of the deep snow.

My parents and I lived in a small town situated between Chicago and Rockford. We were renters, my folks just a year away from saving up enough to own our own home. The house we rented was a small one, clean and warm and perfect for a family of 3. My father worked in Rockford as a welder. Mom was a school teacher here in the local district. She was just in her second year of teaching at the local high school, as she had foregone her career to raise me until I started school.

The Blanket Policy began when Grandpa got a huge deal on surplus military blankets at the local Army-Navy store. He brought two dozen of those itchy wool beauties home. Grandma was skeptical until she heard the bargain price. She gave a few to my parents and put one in Uncle Rob's Camaro.

Uncle Rob was younger than Dad, still in his partying years, and made the rounds each weekend. As most of you Midwesterners know the Camaro and Firebird were usually the first cars into the ditch when the weather got snowy. One snowy night, in that brutal winter, Uncle Rob was coming back home to Grandma and Grandpa's farm after getting a snootfull in town. He lost the handling about 2 miles from the old homestead and slid into the ditch. The Camaro stayed running but with a temperature of 5 degrees and 20 below wind chill he was freezing his ass off. Then he remembered the blanket in the trunk. Uncle Rob covered up and stayed put until Grandpa found him, and pulled him out with his 4x4 the next morning. That was the beginning of the Blanket Policy. Since then everyone in the family has kept one of those old wool beauties in their vehicles, just in case it is needed.

In all the winters since I have never had to pull out the blanket for the purpose of survival. As a young man, dating my present wife, we used it for some fun in the woods a few times, and I am not just talking picnicking. But it seems those days are past now as I reach 47 years and she hits 45. Our son Steven is away from home now, down south in college at SIU-E. He, of course, has his own blanket in his Mustang. The wife keeps hers in her SUV under the lift up back floor spare tire cover.

About Us

My wife Jan works for the local park district as an administrator. I manage a home improvement warehouse store. You know us, it's the orange one. I have had some offers to move up to corporate in Atlanta as I also do some troubleshooting in our region for underperforming stores in the region. I have turned down these chances to advance, as Jan loves the Chicago-land area and her job. We live in a very nice, upper middle class Chicago suburb. Seems all of us small town Illinois kids have moved to Chicago. If you were smart enough to make it through college you moved here for the money. No college, you toughed it out in small town rural Illinois.

My folks were middle class and we lived well, wanted for nothing, but they could not really afford to foot the bill for my post high school education. I joined the Army right after graduation. I had taken and did well in a typing class in high school so the Army in their infinite wisdom made me a clerk typist. After basic I was sent to South Korea for a year to patrol the DMZ and type morning reports. I re-upped after 2 years and made Sergeant and transferred to Germany, where I oversaw clerk typists and played soldier in the Fulda gap. We "cold warriors" were tasked with stalling a Russian invasion long enough for NATO to respond.

The Army taught me a lot and I would never have done as well as I have in life without what I learned there about dealing with and managing people. After 4 years in the service I took advantage of the GI bill and enrolled in Northern Illinois University in Dekalb to major in Business. During the summer I interned at the big orange home store. I learned a lot more about life in those summers working the dock at night with the fellows who were full time. I also learned from the bottom up, hand jack and then forklift, all the warehouse jobs. My first management job was running that same dock after I graduated from NIU.

How We Started

I met my wife Jan at Wrigley Field, the biggest meat-market in Chicago back in the day. It still is party time out there in the bleachers. Back in the 90's it was THE in place for the young to see and be seen. I had just started out in my home improvement warehouse management career. A buddy from work and I called off sick, hopped on the bus, and headed to Wrigley field to take in the Cubs afternoon game.

Max and I had started as interns at the warehouse, working toward our careers in management. After we went full time we shared a bachelor pad in a newly hip part of town. We liked to have a few drinks and meet women. Hey it was the 90's, we were young, and we all partied like it was soon going to be 1999.

We took our seats in the left field bleachers on this warm May Friday afternoon. The beer man was summoned and he figured we would be steady business for his supply of ice cold Old Style. Our Cubs were taking the field. Sandberg, Grace, and a young Sammy Sosa were among this year's decent, but not championship caliber team. Not that we cared, we were here for the sun, ladies, and beer. Just as Grace jogged to his spot at first, a pair of ladies came up the steps carrying their plastic cups full of cold beer. They saw the open seats in front of us and giving us a quick glance, they landed in them. Apparently we did not look like trolls or serial killers so it may be, game on.

Max was always a player and introduced us to the ladies as soon as they settled. Jan, a blonde, was on the right, seated in front of Max. Carol her brunette friend sat in front of me. We chatted a bit between batters, seems these girls were there for the game. Of course we overheard them comment on Sandberg's ass. I had been told previously by other women that he had the finest ass on the Cubs roster. I expect female ticket sales dropped when he retired.

Max was working Jan pretty hard, and being a good wingman I was keeping Carol engaged. About the third inning, and beer, I notice that when Jan would speak to Max she would turn to her left and look at me. After a bit of this I broke protocol and asked Jan if she would like to go get some nachos. I had to do it Max, there was something going between Jan and I. I could just feel it. Max gave me a look, but disengaged his target and refocused on Carol, as Jan and I headed for the nacho stand.

Jan and I chatted a bit and stood by the rail as I held the nacho tray for her. There was something there alright, she kept tipping her head and touching her long blonde hair. She was giggling at almost every stupid thing out of my mouth. She looked beautiful to me. The game was on! About the 5th inning we headed back to the seats to find Carol and Max had gone. This was the pre cell phone days kids. Max couldn't text me to say they were leaving, he and Carol just blew the joint at a chance for a good time. Back then we didn't think much of it other than that we will find out more details later on.

Jan and I sat together, had a couple more beers, and stayed for the whole game. We enjoyed an easy Cubs victory on a beautiful day. I asked her if she would like to go for some dinner and she agreed. I knew of an Italian place just about 3 blocks from the park in a nice neighborhood at that time. We had a meal, talked a lot, and shared a cab back to her place. I knew Max would want and deserved the "home game" since I broke protocol. That was how we rolled back then.

Jan and I had a nice meal and quite a bit of wine. When I reached for the check she put her hand on mine and asked if I would like to go to her place for a nightcap. I thought that was a great idea and we took a cab to her rather upscale apartment building.

I would like to say we fucked like wild animals until dawn. But the reality of 4 hours of beer and sun at Wrigley, heavy Italian food and wine, left us a bit wiped out. When we got to her place we made out for about a half hour on the couch. Jan got up to use the bathroom and when she came back she sat down on the couch, leaned back and proceeded to pass out. I admit I was waxed as well and moved to her recliner and dozed off myself. Years later we would laugh about our first hot night "sleeping" together.

The next morning I woke first and after realizing my surroundings, woke her. She was a bit startled to see me in her recliner as she lay on the couch, but it all came back to her in a few seconds. We decided to take in the brunch at a place I knew a few blocks from my place. We took the train back to my neighborhood and enjoyed a fantastic brunch. The cobwebs and hangovers gone, we went back to her place, and this time we fucked like wild animals!

From then on we were a couple. About a month later I found Max another fellow to split the rent on my old place and I moved in with Jan. Six months later we were married. Her folks are from Wisconsin and they had a blowout wedding back in her hometown. Jan was a UW graduate; her folks footed the bill for her education. She had her bachelorette party with her college friends in Madison the weekend before we wed.

Over the years I have found out bits and pieces of Jan's wild bachelorette weekend in Madison. The majority of her UW college friends live in Chicago and Jan and I see them often. I would get snippets of drunken "girl talk" at various events over the span of our marriage. Jan never confessed to anything, and I never asked her as it was before the vows, and in all honesty the bits of info I had gleaned, and my imagination, made for pretty good jacking material when I was alone. The thought of a wild Jan having a last fling was pretty exciting to me I must admit.

The years of married life went by for us like most upper middle class folks, ups and downs. I got promoted often within my store and moved up the ladder. We bought a big home in a nice neighborhood, the same home we have now, and we raised our son Steven. Jan had worked for Marshalls in accounting when we married and she was there for several years. She moved up to the park district job about 15 years ago.

Even at 43 Jan still gets some looks. She is no beauty queen as far as her face but would rate a 7 in any book, not ugly, just not a knockout. But her body is rockin'. She takes advantage of the park district programs and works out about 3 times a week. A tall 5' 9" she has just the slightest bit of tummy, her tits have a delicious droop that older women get, and her legs and that rear end are still fantastic in jeans or shorts. I am guessing she is 38D-30-42, typical well preserved former soccer mom size. Her hair is still the same blonde although I am sure she has it colored when she gets it cut to the latest MILF style every couple weeks. Jan usually dresses pretty conservatively for work and in public. On the weekends she will help me in the garden with tight shorts and a tank top with no bra. I love the weekends in the garden. She still has it and could really pass for a mid 30's soccer Mom with ease.

Revelation

It was an early fall day in the Chicago-land suburbs. Too early for the leaves to fall and leave behind their mess to clean up, but too late to mow the lawn. I was up early doing the pre-winter check over of our vehicles. Jan's SUV was two years old and looking at the tires I knew I would need to put a fresh set on her ride before the snow flew. My Silverado was a July purchase, it was good to go. Just getting the trusty winter blanket out and blowing the dust off of it was in order. I draped the blanket across the deck railing and fired up my electric leaf blower. Not a lot of dust kicked up except where it was folded and had laid in my previous truck. A few passes of blasting air and I folded up and replaced it under the back seat.

I went to the back of Jan's SUV and lifted the cargo floor cover that was atop the blanket just over the spare tire. I noticed that her blanket was not very dusty either, but decided to give it the once over with the blower. When I unfolded the blanket over the deck railing I noticed a decent sized white stain on the part of the blanket that was folded down. As I was knelt down inspecting the stain, Jan came out on the deck. I knew she had planned to shop this morning and she was dressed the part in jeans and a zip front pullover. Her lipstick and makeup were just right. I knew she was picking up her divorced college galpal Cindy, and heading to the city for some very early Christmas shopping, but not much else. She asked what I was looking at and came closer to see for herself. In all honesty I was sure that it was come, it looked like someone had pulled out and left a puddle then a string of pecker track drops trailing behind the main puddle. She bent down and had a look and quickly informed me that one of our nieces must have spilled her milkshake when she took them to Six Flags last August. I replied that she may be right, and she walked down the steps and into her SUV, smiling and waving before she backed down the drive.

I really didn't buy it. Milkshake my ass, that stain was come, no doubt. The question now, who had shot their come on my wife's blanket? There was no way the stain was from above the panel, it was in the folded part of the blanket, not the part facing up. Our son rarely uses our vehicles, I'm not ruling him out, but I don't believe it is likely that he did it. I felt a bit queasy for a moment, my mind racing. Is this how I find out my wife of 20 years is cheating? The gravity and the reality of the situation made me feel that every move I made was that of a robot. Refold blanket, place in garage in a tote. Get clean blanket from cabinet for when she returns. Walk into house, look around. I was in a complete fog. I sat and had a cup of coffee and tried to wrap my mind around the possibility that she was unfaithful.

After a while I settled down and started thinking more clearly. I know that you can get a kit online that will determine if the stain is come or not. I get on the computer and instantly realize that this is not an item you should order with your Prime account and have shipped to our home. I have an old eBay account, of course they sell them there, great it is free shipping, send it to my work address. That baby should be here on Tuesday. Now I am working the problem. I calm down quite a bit, verify first then consider the options. I throw the clean blanket in the wash and plan to leave it in the dryer so she thinks that I just laundered out the stain and was planning to replace it when she gets back. The "evidence" blanket was removed from the tote, sealed in a space bag and then hidden in the garage rafters.

Who, what, when, and where are to be considered. I generally investigate issues at work with that set of four guidelines, and will work the problem of the stain in the same manner.

Where? Well obviously atop a blanket either in the huge back of the SUV or in the great outdoors, maybe in some guy's garage. Hell you could go nuts trying to pin it down.

What? It is the simple one: There is an obvious "unidentified" but suspected cum stain on the blanket that is stored in my wife's SUV. Tests are pending to confirm semen.

When? Well thinking back the last time I cleaned that blanket of dust was after winter, so late April or early May was my last view of it in pristine, unsoiled, condition. Whatever erupted upon it, landed there between late spring and early fall. Realizing that timeline makes Jan's explanation for the Six Flags milkshake spill a total lie. We were in St. Louis in mid March visiting my brother's family. They live in the STL suburbs, Rob and I took in an NCAA regional game at Scott Trade Center while our wives took the girls to the amusement park. Fact is that stain is not a milkshake from the Six Flags weekend.

Who? Is really going to be a tough one. No one really comes to mind in our circle of friends, most of the couples we socialize with are long married like us. I really have no clues to who Jan would cheat with among them. Her workplace next has to be considered. I know the majority of her co-workers, a few new people come onboard from time to time, but she has not mentioned anyone new at the park district when we chat about our day.

I am focusing on her job for now and putting friends on the back burner. Who could it be from her job? Her boss is a real left wing wimp. His work week is probably 20 hours if anyone took note. He got his job because of city politics, and a fantastic degree in art history from the U of I. He is worthless and everyone knows it, but the work gets done by the administrators like my wife. Definitely not him, he is married to a woman that I am pretty sure puts a strap-on to him for their fun.

A poor work ethic at the top always trickles down. Jan and all the office staff have very flexible hours; she can go in late, leave early, and take a long lunch. Nobody says a word as long as things get done. That makes pinning down when and where this happened very tough. It is not like she is in the factory from 8 to 5, she can leave for an illicit affair as she pleases and I would be none the wiser.

Speaking of none the wiser, I start to wonder where she is as I eat my lunch alone; the city has a lot of places for a couple of women to get into trouble. I don't believe Cindy would ever slow down Jan from making a mistake like cheating. She may even encourage it. Cindy herself cheated on a really nice guy and ended up divorced about four years ago. Since then she has been a bit of a thorn in my side, as the nice guy she destroyed was a former co-worker of mine. James is still a friend even though he works for the big Blue home improvement warehouse. Jan and I no longer see him socially, but he and I keep in touch.

I guess I am newly suspicious. Before this morning I would never give a thought to one of her shopping outings, now her every move looks like she is up to something. I guess new cucks always say it: "I never suspected a thing."

I am sure I have time to kill before Jan gets back so I decide to do as much investigation as I can here at home. That seems to be standard protocol for the husband of the suspected cheater on Literotica Loving Wives section. I check her laundry to find nothing unusual, no semen stained panties. No new racy thongs in her clean clothes drawer. I get in the closet and look for God knows what. No husband on earth can tell what item is new or old among the hundred or so outfits in there. I look through some plastic totes and find lingerie, but it is all pretty familiar from the past, not sure it will all fit, but I would love to see her try. I am digging behind some shoes, looking for what I don't know. A stack of love letters from some guy wrapped in a pink ribbon? Geez, what a waste of time this has been. I make one last check on my way out. The bottom drawer on my side of the dresser was taken over by Jan years ago. Guys know how it is, you get 3 drawers she has 5. Under some sweats is a Victoria Secrets bag. Bingo! I open it up and inside is a couple pair of thigh highs in black and, get this, a black choker collar!

Ok who is this for? In all reality it could be for me. My birthday is in two weeks and she has done this dress up bit as a present before, but a collar, damn. Now I am completely confused, and honestly a bit aroused seeing that hidden where in all reality I would never, ever look. But reality was suspended just this morning when I unfolded that blanket.