The Building of Robert G. Holbrook

"Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Making up the couch?"

"I seem to remember you telling me that you didn't want me touching you. That means sleeping here on the couch."

"Damn it Bobby; I was pissed. So I got a little carried away in my reaction. So what! Your place is still in the bed next to me."

"The mood I'm in right now I think I'd rather use the couch. Maybe tomorrow I'll be a little more in the mood to go back into the bedroom."

She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was wondering about the way I had changed in the last twenty-four hours. I wondered if she was wondering if I might suspect something. If she was it would suit me just fine. It wouldn't bother me at all if she was on pins and needles around me.

It was a light day at the office and I had time to think about my situation and what I was going to do about it. There were options. Ignore it and pretend everything was okay between us. Kick her to the curb. Confront her and tell her if it happened again she was history. Kill her and bury the body somewhere and spread the word that she had run off with her lover. Of course her lower could come forward and that would put the cops back on me. Kill both her and her lover and then disappear them both. I could just ask my boss for a transfer to our Georgia office and just walk away.

The problem I was having was that I really did love the cheating cunt. Enough to forgive and forget? That I didn't know. The only decision I was able to make was to learn more about what was going on and to do that I was going to try and return things to normal between us. Then I could start snooping around. I really didn't want to waste the money to hire professionals so I was going to have to find a way to do it myself.

I could account for most of Jen's time. She didn't stop for drinks after work and she didn't do any 'girls nights out' so if she was doing anything besides what she did while I was on my trips it had to be during the hours she was at work. There were too many people there during the day where she worked so I couldn't see it happening in the building during working hours and that left lunch hour.

I visited customers as part of my job so it was fairly easy for me to leave the office and drive over to where Jen worked and park where I could see her car and the entrance to the building. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday Jen didn't leave the building, but on Thursday she came out, got in her car and drove to the Supper 8 on Taylor.

She pulled into the parking lot and sat in her car waiting. A couple of minutes later a car that looked like the one that had been in my drive pulled up and parked next to her. A man got out, went into the office and got a room and then he and Jen went into it. They spent an hour in the room and then they came back out they got in their cars and I followed them back to where Jen worked. So; two questions answered. She was cheating on me during working hours and the man she was cheating with was a co-worker.

Next I needed to find out who the asshole was and that proved to be very easy. On Monday I had to fly to Salt Lake on business. I told Jen it was a week-long deal and that I'd be back late Friday. Actually I was back Tuesday night and I wasn't surprised to find the same car in my drive. The only light on was the one in our bedroom and an hour after I had set up to watch the light went out. I waited another half hour and no one came out so I figured that they had settled in for the night.

I got out of my car and went over to assholes car hoping to find it unlocked, but if it wasn't I had a Slim-Jim that I'd purchased from a Snap On tool salesman. I practiced with it on my car and I was fairly certain I would be able to use it to get into the strange car. Luckily it was unlocked and I found his registration and insurance card in his glove box. His name was Roger Poitker and I wrote down his address and then put everything back where I'd found it.

I checked into a motel, left a wakeup call for five and at five-thirty I was again parked where I could watch the house. At six-ten Poitker came out, got in his car and left. An hour later the garage door went up and Jen backed out of the garage and headed into work. I went over to the Village Inn and killed an hour in case Jen had to go back to the house for something she forgot and then I went home.

Breakfast dishes for two were in the sink and I took a couple of photos of them. I went up to the bedroom and saw that the bed hadn't been made, but there was no big wet spot and then I saw why on the night stand. Four full tied off condoms lay there and I took pictures of them. I looked over the rest of the house, but couldn't find anything else I could use. I left the house and went into work. That night was a repeat of the previous night, but they took a pass on Thursday. Most probably because they didn't want to chance my coming home early on them again.

When I went home after work Friday Jen was ready for me. "We have almost a week to make up for" she said as she led me to the bedroom. I had to wonder about the girl. A house guest while I was gone and then trying to fuck me to death when I got home? And she kept at it all weekend. I was surprised that I had enough energy left come Monday morning to get out of bed so I could go to work.

My employer didn't get his money's worth on Monday. I spent most of my time thinking about what I was going to do about Jennifer and Poitker. Most of what I thought of would see me in jail for a good part of the rest of my life if I got caught doing it. I most definitely did not want that. I ended up doing nothing. Not that I planned on doing nothing, just that I wanted to wait until I thought of something that I could get away with.

Over the next two weeks I was able to get away from the office to visit customers eleven times and five of those times I saw her join Poitker at a motel. What I could never understand was that Jen was an absolute tiger in bed on those evenings and the following ones.

Then came the night that drove me over the edge.

After dinner Jen said "For dessert you have to join me in the bedroom." Once there she handed me a tube of KY Jelly and then said "I've researched it and from what I've found out it is all in the preparation. You need to work on my hole with your thumb and two or three fingers until it is ready for something as big as what you have." She got on her hand and knees and looked back at me with a smile on her face.

At first I thought she was trying to give me a gift or to make amends for what I'd accused her of the last time I took her ass. That thought quickly died when I looked at her butt hole. It was reddish around the opening and, rightly or wrongly, I interpreted that to mean that Poitker was there during Jen's lunch break that day. This told me, again rightly or wrongly, that she planned to do it more often with him and she was going to use me to get her used to it. At that very instant I knew what I was going to do to Roger Poitker.

I was going to fuck him up! I was going to give the asshole a lesson on what can happen to you when you fuck another man's wife and I was going to do it in such a way that he and Jen would know it was me, but wouldn't be able to prove it.

I was set up for a trip to Cleveland on Monday and I let Jen know about it over dinner Friday night. It was a fly out on an early morning flight, take care of business and catch the four o'clock flight home the same afternoon. I told Jen it was a four day trip and I should be home late Thursday.

She damned near fucked me to death over the weekend. "Got to get enough to hold me" is what she said and I almost laughed at her because I knew she had no intention of going without while I was gone.

I had arranged to take three days comp time when I got back from Cleveland so I wouldn't be missed at work. When I got to Cleveland I checked into the hotel for a three day stay and then called Jen and gave her the room number in case she needed to call me for something. I met the client, took care of business and then flew home. I rented a car and drove to the house.

Poitker's car was in the drive when I got home and I settled in to wait. It occurred to me as I sat there waiting for him to leave that I hadn't thought things out clearly. I had let anger cloud my mind and it had kept me from thinking rationally. I was going to attack the asshole in my driveway and while it would still be a bit dark I was going to be doing it as others in the neighborhood were getting up and going to work. The possibility existed that I might be seen.

I started to get cold feet and was actually reaching for the keys to start the car when something in the back of my mind took over my thinking. "Fuck it!" the voice said. "If you get caught so what! There will be one less asshole around to go after another man's wife." Then the evil that probably lurks in the back of every one's mind took over and I got madder and madder as I thought about what the two of them were doing in MY house in MY bedroom and on MY bed. No way was I going to back off!

The mornings I had watched Poitker usually left the house around six so at five-forty I got out of my rental and went over to Poitker's car. It was locked so I had to use my Slim-Jim to get in. I got in the back and laid down behind the seat. I was dressed in black, had on a black hoodie and ski mask and my gloves were thin leather driving gloves and it would all go into a dumpster when I was through. I'd taken a pair of socks and put one inside the other and then had emptied the shot from shotgun shells into them and then tied off the opening.

The plan was to simply rise up, smack Poitker upside the head with the homemade sap and then while he was out of it drag him out of the car and then beat his gonads into mush. Jump in the rental, race back to the airport, fly to Cleveland and then call Jen and let her know that thigs went well and I would be coming home earlier than planned.

At the house Jen would find Poitker when she opened the garage door at seven-thirty to back out and go to work. She would immediately think that I had done it. Since I didn't take his wallet, watch or anything else it would rule out robbery so who else could it be except me? Then she would think that if it wasn't me involving the police would lead to me finding out about her and Poitker so she would drive him to the hospital rather than call.

Then she would start wondering about what I might do to her if indeed it was me that assaulted Poitker. That is all I would do as far as Jennifer was concerned. Just leave her to play mind games with herself. There wasn't any way that I could bring myself to physically harm her. I loved the stupid cheating bitch. Stupid of me and I knew it, but I was human with all the failings that go with that job description.

The plan worked. Poitker got in the car and as he was putting the key in the ignition I rose up and sapped him. I pulled him out of the car and placed him on the ground with legs spread wide and then I beat on his crotch for a good two minutes. I had to sap his head again when he started to come around, but I got done what I wanted to get done and then I took off for the airport. When I got there I changed clothes in a restroom and then hit five different restrooms getting rid of the stuff I wore to do the deed.

I boarded my flight pleased at the way things had worked out. Then as the flight took off and I reclined my seat my smile slowly slipped away as all the holes in my brilliant plan began to occur to me. The entire plan was based on the assumption that Jennifer wouldn't want her affair to come to light. To keep the affair hidden she wouldn't involve the police. Poitker would of course follow her lead.

As the plane reached altitude all of my assumptions were fading away. What if when the garage door opened Jen didn't remain clear-headed and think the way I assumed she would? What if she saw Poitker on the ground, panicked and called 911? Even if the EMTs showed up without the police wouldn't the hospital call them since it was obviously a physical assault? It would be a piece of cake for the police to shoot my "I was in Cleveland" alibi down. They would naturally check with the airlines to see if I had flown home. Checking the rental car companies would only take a couple of phone calls.

Even if Jennifer acted the way I assumed she would why had I just assumed that Poitker would go along with her in keeping the affair quiet? If the police questioned him why wouldn't he point the finger at me? Why wouldn't he want to see me pay for what I'd done to him? True, he wouldn't know for sure that it was me, but he would damned sure put me at the top of the list of people who might have wanted to do him harm. And hadn't that been my goal in the first place? To take my revenge in a way that they would think it was me, but not know for sure?

Suddenly all of the mind games that I had hoped Jennifer would start having were working on me. Would the cops be waiting for me when I got off the plane in Cleveland? Would they be waiting for me at the hotel? If not would they be waiting for me when I got home?

All of the things that should have occurred to me when I was planning things, but were hidden behind the anger and rage I was feeling at the time started jumping out at me. Then I started thinking about what might happen if I got away with it as far as the police were concerned. Would Poitker shrug it off as the cost of fucking around with married women? Or would he just decide that it had been me and get a gun and come after me? What in the hell possessed me that had me thinking that just because I had assumed it that it would happen that way?

As I deplaned in Cleveland my eyes were frantically searching the gate area for anyone who looked like a cop and who looked like he was waiting on me. That man in the grey suit? A detective? No, he didn't appear to be checking out the arrivals. That guy leaning on the pillar? No; I could see his ticket sticking up from his shirt pocket.

I managed to get out of the terminal okay, but what awaited me at the hotel? I had to go there. I'd left my laptop and the signed contracts I'd flown to Cleveland to get in my room. My eyes were all over the place when I entered the lobby. I didn't see any uniformed police or anyone who looked like a detective, but then who said detectives had to wear suits? I was a nervous wreck when I reached my room. I hesitated before opening the door trying to think of how to handle it if the cops were inside and waiting. I took a deep breath and then entered the room. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found the room empty.

The next step in my not so brilliant fucking plan was to call Jennifer and let her know I would be back earlier than I'd told her. The only good sign, or at least I took it to be a good sign, was there were no messages waiting for me. That probably meant that Jennifer hadn't called. That meant that I didn't have to lie about why she couldn't reach me.

I'd turned off my cell when I boarded the plane and I didn't remember to turn it back on until I got to the hotel. There were no messages or voicemails waiting so I breathed another sign of relief. With a trembling hand I hit speed dial for Jen's phone and waited for her to pick up. She didn't and the call went to voicemail.

"Hey babe; just calling to let you know I'm going to finish up sooner than I thought. I'll probably be home sometime tomorrow. Love you. Bye."

I disconnected and almost immediately the room phone rang. I answered it and it was Jennifer.

"Did you just try to call me?"

"I did. I wanted to let you know that things here moved quicker that I thought and I'll be home early. I might even be able to get out of here on a late flight tonight, but if not I'll catch one in the morning."

"Let me know if you can make it tonight and I'll wait up for you."

"I'll do that. Got to go babe; I've got a meeting in ten minutes."

"Okay. Hopefully I'll see you tonight. Love you. Bye."

As I hung up the phone I wondered about the call. I'd called her on her cell, but she returned the call to the room phone. I chose to see it as a good sign. To me it meant that she wanted to verify that I was in Cleveland and so it couldn't have been me who laid out Poitker.

I called her at four and told her I would be home around seven. She asked if she should have dinner ready and I told her no.

"Eat something on the plane then. You will need your strength tonight."

It was mind games time again. Was she horny and wanted to make love or was she setting me up with a false sense of security so I wouldn't be ready if the police met my flight? Or maybe they would be in the house waiting. Shit!

I worried and fretted all the way home. No police met the flight and when I got home I didn't see any cop cars. That really didn't mean anything. They could be parked around the block waiting for the cops in the house to call them. It was a trembling hand that turned the door knob and opened the door. I almost collapsed in relief when instead of blue uniforms I saw a naked Jennifer wearing her 'come fuck me' high heels.

"Ready for dessert stud?"

She showed absolutely no nervousness as she looked at me. No sign of worry at all. I began to think that I just might have gotten away with it. At least as far as Jennifer was concerned.

She led me into the bedroom, undressed me and then she damned near fucked me to death. She even gave me her ass.

"I've found that I really like it if you take it slow and easy at first."

That of course made me think of Poitker. Was it him that got her to liking anal? Since I could never let her know I knew about him I could never ask her that question. I guessed I'd never know.

No police were waiting for me when I got to work and I was never contacted by them during the following weeks. I was dying of curiosity about what happened when Jen opened the garage door and found Poitker, but I of course didn't dare ask.

The months went by and there wasn't a day that I didn't think about what to do about Jennifer. True, she was a cheating bitch, but I guess I was just pussy whipped. She wanted to make love three or four times a week and three or four times on the weekends. If I got rid of her would I ever find another that wanted it that much? I decided to tough it out for as long as I could. Poitker was out of the picture and it was just the two of us now right?

Wrong!!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Once more it was cliché time. Five months later another trip that I came home early from to find a strange car parked in my driveway. Once more I walked into the house only to hear the sounds that I knew only too well. Jennifer had always been a noisy fuck. I turned and left the house. On a whim I checked the car and found it unlocked. The registration said the car belonged to a Thomas Mason. I recognized the name. He was another one of Jen's coworkers and I'd met him at her last company picnic. As I remembered it he was married to the boss's daughter.

I'd learned my lesson with Poitker. No more taking revenge. I'd let someone else do it. Along with the registration and insurance card there was a card that gave emergency information. The emergency contact was Mrs. Pamela Mason and the card gave two numbers for her. I called the first and it was her cell and the call went to voice mail. A sleepy woman's voice answered the call to the next number.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Mason?"

"Yes."

"I just thought you should know that your husband is fucking Jennifer Holbrook at her home at 4880 Lark Lane even as we speak."

"Who is this?"

"Just someone who hates your husband and who has been keeping an eye on what he does looking for a way to stick it to him. I'd let her husband know, but he would probably kill your husband and I don't think he should have to go to jail just because his wife is a cheating slut. Goodbye."