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You hadn’t planned on getting your wife anything for Valentine’s Day. The way Jamie’d been staying out late these last couple of months, saying it was work, or church, or some other shit, you figured she was doing fine in that department, getting somebody else to slip her a Valentine.For a while now, you could tell Jamie had convinced herself she wasn’t anything to look at. She’d started worrying how there was more to her ass than she remembered, how the cover-up creams weren’t covering shit anymore, the way her tits looked tired.“Don’t they look tired to you,” she’d asked, which was not an invitation, you found out.Anybody watching Jamie, wouldn’t think she’s all that sensitive about her looks. She’s brassy, got a big laugh, and can dish shit right back when she has to. It made her so hot in high school.Seeing her sitting at the bar, she might seem the type who’d fuck a guy for a rum and coke, like some do out at the Horseman. But you know with her it’s all talk. Funny, and the weird thing is, it can make you hard watching a guy running pictures through his head how she might look latched onto his dick. When the guy she’s flirting with slides a look at you to see how you’re taking it, you joke right along, saying, “you’ll need a chiropractor when she gets done with you.” Or, “bring your brother to spell you because she’d wear you both out.”Lets them know you’re not the kind of guy gets sore at his wife flirting. She flirts with every fucking guy in the place. You playing along lets Jamie know you think she’s hot and you want other guys to know you think she’s hot. Her flirting never went anywhere.But lately? Still the same kickass on the outside, but you could tell it bothered her worse than she let on how her looks didn’t keep up with who she was inside.Nothing you could say made any difference. Whatever you could think to say—how sexy she is, how gorgeous she is, how amazing in the sack she is—all she’d say is that you’re married to her. You’re supposed to say that. You tell her she’s delicious, spend a half-hour tonguing her clit—‘lady button’ she calls it—and she’ll say that’s great, but it doesn’t change what she’s got to look at in the mirror when she runs to clean up in the bathroom.Then—like out of nowhere—she stopped flirting with the guys, started doing a little more to get ready for work, a little more make-up, nicer blouses, nicer slacks, high heels that show off her toes. She stayed later at work, running errands out to the job sites. Around the house, she’d hum while she was getting dinner going, cleaning on the weekends, or just putting laundry in the machine. Made it obvious to you she had to be catching a little on the side, which, you figure, was her way of proving to herself she’s still got it.You couldn’t decide which way to go. Don’t say anything and let some totally random guy hitting on her—telling her she’s hot, maybe a married guy who’s risking a bust-up of his own marriage over her—letting that random guy convince her how she’s worth the risk? Or go off. Explode. Prove she’s everything you said she is and more by risking a little jail time yourself?It didn’t help knowing that if she was out there, getting a little extra, she wouldn’t be shy and retiring about it. People who know her, wherever the hell she’s getting it, would wonder why you haven’t gone after whoever it was, or locked Jamie out of the house, or just got in your truck and drove the fuck out of there.You’ve been known to go off for less—everybody’s seen it when some guy gives you shit out at the Horseman. Guy has too much to drink, doesn’t like what you said, doesn’t like your face, or says some stupid shit about Jamie—her looks, her tits, her big brassy laugh.So when you rolled up to the house, and the trailer was still dark and Jamie’s car wasn’t in her spot under Erzincan Escort the cabana next to the trailer, you figured you might have to finally do something about it.You’d gone inside to change out of your work clothes, when Filene Tubbs showed up at your place, tapping on the side of the trailer.You didn’t know it was her at first. People coming over knocking all different times wasn’t strange. You didn’t bother seeing who it was, and didn’t bother throwing your shirt back on to answer the door. Just went barefoot, in your jeans and undershirt.Seeing it was Filene surprised you. She and Jamie’d been friends back in high school, and they saw each other from time to time, but she hadn’t been over to the house since marrying Merlin, Jamie’s boss out at Four Corners Stone and Brick Face.The way she was done up in a spangly tube top, high-cut shorts, and tottering on a pair of hooker sandals with the icepick heels, held on by nothing more than a few thin pieces of leather—more for a Saturday night at the Horseman, than paying a social call—made you feel grubby.You tried to put her off, telling her Jamie wasn’t home yet.“And not like to be anytime soon,” she said, not waiting for you to invite her in, hustling up the three steps of the tiny porch and inside without asking.You didn’t see her car out front, and asked where she’d left it.“Across the street. At the mini-mart,” she said, brushing past you, her high heels clattering. You marveled at the idea of her walking all that long way and up the gravel paths between the mobile homes in those shoes. But they did make her pedicure stand out.You did a quick check around to see if anyone was watching before closing the door.Inside, she plopped herself onto the sofa, leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, rocking. You pulled a kitchen chair over and sat across from her, keeping the coffee table between the two of you. She drilled you with those lightning eyes of hers and asked if you had a gun you didn’t mind losing. She’d pay you for it, she was quick to add.You weren’t quite sure how to answer that, since you’d never known Filene to be much of a hunter. So you said it’d depend on what she planned to use it for.She flung herself back, her chest pushed out, and without any idle pleasantries said that she’d had enough and was tired of keeping it to herself.She leaned forward, grabbing your cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table, seeming to take an extra long time pulling one out, giving you more than enough chance to notice how she didn’t bother with a bra, nothing but her, that little band of fabric, and you.Finally, she got the cigarette lit and leaned back, throwing her free arm over her head, blowing out the smoke with a sigh, the picture of a woman fed up with something.“Jamie and Merlin,” she said. “Jamie and fucking, fucking Merlin.” She took another drag, one eye squinched shut against the smoke as she kept looking at you, watching to see your reaction.Damn. You’d’ve guessed just about anybody else but Merlin Tubbs. Guy owns a business big enough to cover the tri-state area. He’s got a shitload of money. He dresses like the kind of guy who could be picking up hot women in sports bars downtown, taking them to skyboxes at the Garden or the Meadowlands. If his wife’d let him. It didn’t make sense, a guy like that hitting on your wife.Okay, yes, maybe you’re saying a guy like Merlin could do better. Just being honest, you know? There’s more to Jamie since high school when you first started dating. She knows how to get dolled up for special occasions. But for work? Being an assistant bookkeeper working accounts payable? In the back office? She doesn’t bother. So, she comes off looking a little plain. Still wears her hair in those up-do’s that were popular a few years back. No knock. Erzincan Escort Bayan Things are great between you. Together almost eighteen years, no one has to put a gun to your head for you to come right out and say you love Jamie. She still gets you hard just watching her towel off in the bathroom.“Did you hear me?” she asked, leaning back, her legs crossed, foot kicking slowly—the crotch of her shorts cut so narrow and pulled up so tight, it makes the lips of her pussy stand out—waiting on you to say something—do something—about what she just told you.You have to admit, you’d been working yourself up for something like that. Trying to decide whether you’d have to use a blunt instrument or the Mosberg on whoever it turned out to be.Now? You’d kiss that motherfucking Merlin if you had him here in front of you right now.Jamie fucking Merlin made sense—kind of. Some random guy down at the Horseman tells her she’s sexy, trying to talk her into banging him in the back seat, or blowing him out at the picnic tables, maybe she can believe him, maybe not. But if it’s Merlin Tubbs? That makes it all the better. Not that she’s fucking someone else, but that it’s Merlin. For a guy like Tubbs to choose Jamie over Filene—who’s taller, still got some of that semi-slim build left, got the big breasts, exotic dancer face, the wildish hair—Merlin seeing them both side by side every day, then choosing her? Taking the chance on pissing off Filene? That’s saying something. Jamie’d have to believe she’s still got it.“I’d thought of tearing Merlin a new asshole myself, but thought you might like to have first crack at him.”You let her talk. You needed time to think what to do.Filene took another drag, staring off, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe she was in the middle of this mess. Those deep sighs of hers kept her tube top inching down, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you were rooting for gravity.You hadn’t given a thought about the way Filene was dressed when she showed up. Now, sitting across from you, it does seem a little extreme even for her. But it’s always something skimpy—shorts, skirts that’d flash the tops of her stockings—not pantyhose, stockings with the clips showing—tops that were cut to show her off. Filene who’s been miles ahead of Jamie in the looks department since grade school, whose appetite for fucking broke up her first two marriages, and snared Merlin right out of his—she’d come to you with this before she’s said anything to Merlin. She’s expecting you to do something about it.Still staring off, she tugged her top back into place, but not before a bit of her nipple rose up, a large, brown crescent.She leaned forward, tapping the ash. “Can you believe it? Jamie and fucking Merlin? I shouldn’t blame Jamie. What I am is surprised as hell he settled on her, but I shouldn’t blame her. Merlin’s a force of nature. A damn force of nature. Second time this week. Nine times this month. They’re in his office, right this very minute. Got her up on the desk, her legs waggling in the air, him all the way out of his pants and underwear, he is pounding her like grandma making butter and the whole office is shaking on its wheels. She’s holding onto the desk for dear life. Everyone in the yard must hear it, but if they do, they’re not making any sign. Just her and Merlin banging away.”Jamie’s never let you bang her on the table. It’s like a thing with her. She hates the idea of you in her kitchen with your dick out.“You know your wife’s legs go stiff when she comes? You know that? Straight up, toes pointed at the ceiling, rigid as rebar, quivering? Did you already know that? Maybe you did.” She took another drag, looking off away from you. “Well—mine don’t. All I’m saying.”Leaning forward to flick off the ash, she went on. Escort Erzincan “Nine times this month. And that’s not counting however many quickie blowjobs,” she said, pointing at you, her cigarette between her fingers.“You think or you know,” you asked, still buying time.“Of course I know. I’ve got a business to protect. The day I found out? I went by around lunch, so I thought I’d slip in and say hi to Jamie. Hadn’t seen her in a while. Do a little catch-up. But no Jamie. Car’s still in the lot, so I know she’s not out running errands. I waited around, like maybe she’s in the can. I’m waiting, checking the time, and I’m just about ready to leave when she finally comes back. I could tell right off she’d been in and out of her clothes.”Filene should know. She was a master at it back in high school, fucking the wrestling coach and the swim coach and then back in class like nothing happened.“Don’t give me that look. It’s easy enough to tell something like that. I made small talk, but she was too flustered, kept saying how great it was to see me, sorry she couldn’t talk, had to get something finished for Merlin. So I left. I waited a day before coming back—you know, so it doesn’t look like I’m checking up on them. I get there early this time, just before lunch. No Jamie. No Merlin. I took a little walk around. They weren’t in his office, weren’t in any of the storerooms. All the guys were out under the awning starting lunch so I just meandered over to the tool crib. I had to get a ladder to see in through the chickenwire at the top and—bam—there they were. He’s got her bent over the worktable, she’s entirely naked, and he’s got nothing but his tie hanging loose around his neck. He’s holding those big hips of hers—no offense—just banging for all he’s worth, and her holding the sides of the worktable, her chin pressing hard into the tabletop.”“You could see that?”“I had a ringside seat up there! I’m looking right at them. She’s got her face squeezed tight, like he’s too much for her and he’s got the biggest damn O-face, like it’s his first time or something. The creepy thing of it was how quiet they were both being. If you got me making faces like that, I’d be yelling my head off. I admit, I’m a noisy lay—not that you need to know that, but I am. Jerry hated that when we were on vacation—”Jerry was her first husband.“—said it let the whole damn place know our business. There was one time, he had me spread out on the bed, roped down—”“You said there were other times,” jumping in before she could finish.“Oh sure, lots of times. Every time we took my sister’s kids to Six Flags. We’d send them off—”“Not you and Jerry. Merlin and Jamie.”You didn’t need to hear any of it. But she seemed keen to spell it all out. Get you worked up, mad at the both of them. She’s painting the pictures for you that’ve got you breathing hard, and a tingling in your ass, fixing the images of Jamie and Merlin in your mind. But it wasn’t anger building up in you. Yeah, you had that initial sting of jealousy, a lightning streak that shot down through you. But then—no idea why—you had a notion—just a glimmer—of satisfaction. That didn’t make any sense.“Right. Yes. Them. Well, you name it,” she said, “they’ve been there. His office. The catwalk over the assembly floor. Finished trailers parked out on the lot.”You kind of drifted off while Filene rambled. You were busy thinking what to do. Drive down there and shoot up the place? Give Filene the gun and let her do it? Keep it simple and bust up Merlin’s face? Or do you let it play out because while it might be tying Jamie up in knots working out the logistics of cheating on you, Merlin is showing Jamie she’s still attractive and worth the risk.“Can’t you just picture it?”“What?” You realized Filene was asking you a question.“I said, can’t you just picture it?”“Yeah. Like a movie. Without the popcorn.”“Seeing him in action, he’s prime stud material—oh, shit. Forget I said that.”The idea of Filene following them around to watch seemed creepier than the two of them rutting like cats in total silence. But you didn’t say it.

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