TITLE    : Did My Wife Fuck Tyler Jones? Ch. 02
STORYID  : did-my-wife-fuck-tyler-jones-ch-02
SUMMARY  : Another marriage down the toilet.
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2020-02-20
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cheating wives|loving wives|wife|husband|


I recommend you read Did my wife fuck Tyler Jones? before reading this. It will make more sense. If you were happy with the way it ended then you might not care for this chapter. There is little sex.



Thank you V



*****



She stepped toward me. "Andy... I..."



I held up my hand to stop her. Then I spoke. 



"Well, you got your wish."



"What are you talking about?"



I took the sticker out of my pocket.



"You said you wanted to fuck me and you certainly did." I wadded the sticker and dropped it at her feet. I walked back to the bar and started cleaning up.



"Andy. Please."



"What's going on?" Asked Tyler Jones as he stepped toward Lenny.



"Get away from me." She pushed him and came over to me. "Andy, it was just one time. Please talk to me."



"What do you mean, one time?" Asked Jones. "Night before last was the sixth time. And why the fuck are you telling Andy? Come on, let's go."



"Get away from me."



"You weren't saying that when I was dicking your ass."



I spoke. "So this is the waitress you were telling me about. The best pussy you've ever had?"



"That's it, buddy. Now she wants to act all high and mighty. She wasn't all that when she was on her knees sucking my dick."



I hadn't stopped looking at Lenny. At Jones' last statement, she just crumpled to the floor."



He went over to her. "Are you coming?"



She shook her head no.



"Well, fuck it. You can have her Andy. There's more than her around.



"No, you take her. I don't want her anymore."



"Anymore? Have you been fucking her, too?"



"Yeah. For over three years. She's my wife. But not for long."



"Your wife? Holy fuck."



I never saw anyone move so fast in my life. I yelled after him. "Hey, come back and get her. She's yours now."



"Fuck her. I don't want her."



Gill, the night manager went to her. "I think you should leave." And he motioned for two other employees to escort her out. 



I continued robotically cleaning the bar area. Gill came to me. "Go home. Take some time off. Call me when you're ready to come back."



I did what he suggested; I went home. When I got inside, I made sure to lock the deadbolt. She wasn't getting in to get her stuff until I was ready. It wasn't an hour before I heard her key in the door. Then I heard a knock.



"Andy? Andy? Let me in. Please Andy."



"Go away. You don't live here anymore."



"Andy, please, at least let me get some of my things."



"Why? You took your makeup when you left before and whores don't need any clothes, so you're all set."



"I'm not a whore."



"Oh, that's right. Whores get paid for fucking. You did it for fun with someone other than your husband, so I guess that makes you a slut."



Her voice got louder. "I'm not a slut."



"Go away. You can get your stuff tomorrow. Be here at nine because by 10 anything of yours that's left will be in the dumpster."



"Andy, PLEASE?"



"Take your cheating ass away from here."



The knock came shortly before nine the next morning. I looked through the small glass in the door. I didn't see Lenny, but I saw Charlotte. I opened the door.



"What do you want?"



"I came to get Lenny's things."



I pointed to several garbage bags filled with her clothes. "There they are. She can have her pick of furniture as long as it's out of here in an hour."



"She can't do that."



"Why not?"



"She's sick."



"Sick? What's her problem? Lack O'Peter?" Peter was her pet name for penis.



"Come on, Andy. She drank a full bottle of Vodka last night and she's in bad shape."



"She's in bad shape? What do I look like, Charlotte? And you... her best friend... you helped her fuck over her husband. For what? For who? A smooth talking pussy hound creep who described to an audience in detail how he fucked her? Then he comes into her place of employment proclaiming in front of her husband and a dozen or so other witnesses that he needed some of her pussy. Yeah. She's sick all right. And so are you. Now take her shit and get out."



She started moving the bags to the door.



"And you can tell her I want my grandmother's rings back."



Three days later, half of our furniture was gone. Anything she liked, including our bed, was at the curb available to anyone who wanted it. I had no idea if she fucked Jones, or anyone else, on the bed so I got rid of it. 



Then came the pounding on the door.



I looked and it was Lenny. I let her in.



"What is wrong with you?" She asked. "People are down there taking my furniture."



"It isn't your furniture. You walked out of this apartment and deserted me, and the furniture, so you no longer have a claim to it. And give me my grandmother's rings."



"You gave them to me. They're mine."



"Give them to me or I will rip your fucking finger off and take them. Those are meant for the woman who will be my wife forever. Not some slut who can be talked into fucking some barroom bozo who spends his life seeing how much pussy he can fuck. Now give them to me."



She started backing toward the door and pulling the rings off at the same time. I would never hurt her, but I was pissed. She got them off and threw them on the floor. I picked them up and put them in my pocket.



"I thought we could talk about things." She said.



"No way in hell. Go talk to Tyler Jones. He's a good talker. He talked you into fucking him. Is he the only one who was able to talk you into cheating or were there others?"



Her back was to the door now and she slid down until she was on the floor. And the tears started.



"I just wanted some fun, Andy. He came to the bar and started talking to me. You were there the first couple of times, but there were so many customers, you never noticed him. After several times there, he offered to buy me a drink someplace else. You were working nights so I met him. He had a gift of gab and before long he was playing with my tits. You know how I get when you pinch my nipples. Well, he pinched them and I went crazy. Then he finger fucked me. He did that on the dance floor. It was so exciting to have his finger in my pussy while people watched. God, it was hot."



"Are you telling me that anybody who gets close enough to you to pinch your nipples can fuck you?"



"No, but..."



"Who are you? What happened to my wife?"



"Charlotte said... oh, never mind."



"Charlotte said what?"



"She fucks lots of guys. Every time we go out she tries to hook me up. She says you are an asshole and don't want me to have any fun."



"Did she also tell you that she's been trying to fuck me since I've known you? She grabs my dick every time she's around me and you're not looking. I told you to stay away from her."



"She's my best friend. She takes care of me."



"Taking care of you used to be my job. How many guys has she hooked you up with? I assume you hooked up with Jones on your own."



"Andy..."



"How many guys has she hooked you up with?"



"Please."



"Two? Five? Ten? More than ten?"



"I..."



"That's enough. I don't want to know. You need to leave."



She slowly made her way to her feet. "May I at least walk through and see if there is anything else of mine?"



"I can assure you, there is nothing of yours in this apartment."



"What about the title to my car?"



"It's in one of the bags Charlotte took. Along with your pictures, except for our wedding album... I threw that away."



She was standing in front of the door. I pushed her away, opened it and indicated the way out. 



She looked at me. "Andy, please..."



"Get out."



Her head was down and she was crying as she stepped into the hall. I closed the door on our marriage.



I went back to work. It was hard looking out over at the dance floor where our confrontation had taken place. Gill, the night manager sat at the bar. I gave him a glass of ice water.



"You know, Andy, we own the bar and restaurant in the International Hotel downtown. It's called the Oriskany. It also has live piano music every night and a small dance floor. If you would like, we can transfer you down there. The pay is better and it gets you away from here."



So three days later, I was in my new bar. I met the day manager and he introduced me to the staff before we opened for the day. I was to work days to start. Days meant we got there at 10, readied the place and opened the doors at 11 and worked until 7. The night shift started at 7 and worked until closing which was normally 2AM, but sometimes went a bit longer. The International Hotel was very upscale and I liked being there.



The day before I started my new job, I initiated divorce proceedings and I decided to stop shaving and grow a beard. 



We didn't have much, Lenny and I. As a matter of fact, when I went online to check our bank account, over half of it was gone. Lenny had gotten advice from someone... probably Charlotte.



Oh, well, the courts would have given it to her anyway. Then I did the routine things like the credit card. I say card because we only had one. I took her name off it. The phones were in my name, so I cancelled hers. 



She was served at Charlotte's. I have no idea how she reacted.



It dawned on me one day that Jones said he had fucked Lenny six times. That meant that I had fucked her after he, and God knows how many others, had fucked her. 



I needed to see a doctor. I'd had no symptoms, but then I had no idea what kind of symptoms STD's had or what their incubation period(s) was/were. The results sucked. Gonorrhea. The fucking 'clap'. I wanted to kill her! I said before that I would never hurt her, but when I heard I had 'the clap' all bets were off. I could easily have strangled her; not to mention that lowlife Jones.



I could never blame a man, or woman, for wanting more sex. But to actively seek out married women, or men, is absolutely reprehensible. It takes a certain kind of scum to do that. And then to be so careless, or uncaring, as to giving them an STD was beyond the pale



I started to call Lenny and tell her how I felt about getting an STD from her, but two things stopped me. First, I had cancelled her phone service and didn't know if she had gotten a new one, and, second, why bother? Her pussy could rot off as far as I was concerned.



It was a few days later, that her brother came pounding on my door. I had just gotten back from getting my shots. I let him in.



"You son of a bitch. You cheated on my sister and now she has an STD. I ought to kill you." There was murder in his eyes and he scared the shit out of me. 



"Whoa, tiger." I said. "You have it backwards. Your sister cheated on me with at least one guy. She gave me the disease."



"That's a lie. She said you would say that. I'm going to kick your ass." 



He started towards me and I started backing away, but there was really no place to go.



"Well," I said as calmly as I could. "before you do that, there are a dozen or more witnesses who heard a man say that he fucked her at least six times and she didn't deny it. Then she told me that she 'did it for fun'. For fun Jimmy (that's his name). She cheated on me with a no good son of a bitch 'for fun'. And Charlotte helped her. Helped her, hell. Encouraged her. And if I were you, I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her.



He looked as if he had calmed down. Jimmy has had some problems in his life. He did time in prison for assault so I knew he wouldn't hesitate beating me to a pulp.



"I know you have no reason to believe me and not your sister, but you know me. And you know that I'm not a liar; and I'm certainly not a cheater. The guy you need to talk to is Tyler Jones." And I told him where Jones worked. "And if you have any influence over your sister, you will try to get her away from Charlotte. I tried for years, but she wouldn't listen to me."



Four days later, I read in a newspaper, which had been left on the bar, that a prospective car buyer was test driving a new car from a local dealership. He was accompanied by salesman Tyler Jones. The prospective buyer stopped the car claiming to have heard a noise. Both he and Jones got out of the car where he proceeded to beat Jones almost to death. He left Jones by the side of the road and returned the car to the dealership. The news report stated that Jones would most likely lose both testicles, but he probably would never have hemorrhoid problems because the tire iron which was found stuck up his ass would take care of that. The article never said it in those exact words, but the implication was certainly there. The newspaper quoted the police as saying 'Mr. Jones was a local Casanova known to have been responsible for several marriage breakups over the last couple of years'. Blood tests indicated that he had several different STDs among which were syphilis and gonorrhea. 



'Way to go, Jimmy', and whoever gave him those diseases, I thought while reading the article and laughing. I wondered how many of them Lenny had. The same newspaper reported that a trailer owned by a Miss Charlotte Williams was completely destroyed by fire. The trailer was uninsured and was a total loss. 



One of these days, I'm going to have to chat with Jimmy about his anger managements issues... then I'll buy him a few drinks.



I had a thought about where Charlotte was going to live now and if Lenny was going to move in with her permanently... or at least until one or both of them found some sugar daddy.



I expected to be interviewed by the police about Jones and I was, but nothing ever came of it. I got the impression that finding who beat him up was somewhere along the same priority as chasing down jaywalkers.



Time went on and I liked my new bar more and more. I also liked my new beard. At first I kept it a bit on the scraggly side, but decided to trim it. After I did that, I got lots of comments from my female customers. I also liked the fact that my divorce was finalized. Apparently, when Lenny got the papers, she signed them and sent them back. She didn't bother to show up in court the day it went in front of the judge. 



My antibiotic shots had done the trick and soon enough I was declared disease free, but socializing never seemed to appear on my radar screen.



It was also time for my lease to expire, so I found an apartment closer to work. I hadn't replaced much of the furniture I tossed, but I had bought a new bed. My new apartment was so small that the queen sized bed took up most of the bedroom and carrying it up three flights of stairs was difficult. Fortunately, I had friends who helped me. One of them, Georgie Patterson and I had been friends for a long time. We grew up in the same neighborhood; as did Lenny, Charlotte, and several other friends. When I called and asked if he could help me move, he showed up with a friend of his. Bryce, was his name and, when Georgie introduced us, Bryce said.



"Andy Buckles? You're Andy Buckles?"



"I am."



"Holy shit. I know your wife."



"Have you fucked you, too?" I asked.



"Me? Hell, no. But I'm married to Charlotte's cousin and I've certainly heard your name bandied about."



He didn't like Charlotte very much and started bringing me up to date on the happenings around him. He told me that after Charlotte's trailer burned, she and Lenny rented a furnished one in the same trailer park. 



He told me that the couple of times he had been in the company of Charlotte and Lenny together, that Lenny was erratic in her comments about me. When she was sober, I was a total asshole; but when she had a few drinks, there were lots of tears and thinking of ways to get me back. Charlotte kept telling her I didn't deserve her, but, and again, this was when she was drunk, Lenny defended me and admitted that it was all her fault. 



Another tidbit he shared was that Lenny had in fact, had syphilis and that both she and Charlotte blamed me for what happened to Jones. 



I asked him if Jones still came around. 



"Nah." He said. "I think he called Lenny a couple of times before he got his ass kicked, but she wasn't interested."



He also told me that Lenny was working as a server and gave me the name of the place. On my next night off I went there. I went in, looked around and saw her waiting tables. With my new beard, I figured she wouldn't recognize me.



I stood by the men's room door and made a phone call.



"Hello, Blue Diamond. How may I help you?" Someone answered.



"Do you have a server working for you with the name Lenny Buckles."



"We certainly do."



"Well, you can run your business anyway you want, but if it gets around that you employ people with syphilis you could have trouble with the health department." I hung up. 



Less than three minutes later, someone went to Lenny took her aside and I watched as she was escorted to the door. I didn't know if she still had any STD's or not, but what the hell. I enjoyed the victory, however small it was. 



I was working one night when Lenny came in and she was with a man. She looked like she had lost a few pounds. 



As far as I knew, she had no idea I worked there. 



I took a piece of notepaper from under the bar and wrote a note. 'I don't know if you are aware, but the woman you are with cheated on her husband and gave him an STD. Proceed at your own risk'. I would occasionally step from behind the bar and walk to where I could see the restaurant. 



Between their salad and entree, I saw that Lenny had excused herself to use the ladies room. I folded up my note and walked to their table. "Excuse me, sir," I said. "But someone gave me this to give to you." I handed him the note.



By the time I got back to the bar, he was walking out of the restaurant. I walked back to where I could see their table. I watched as she sat down and picked up the note he had put where she could see it. She appeared to read it, wadded it up, stood and walked out. She walked within 10 feet of me and didn't recognize me, but I could see the tears in her eyes. 



Their server was standing by their table holding their entrees not knowing what to do with them. I went over to her.



"They both left, but I know where you can send their bill."



Bryce and I became friends and co-conspirators. He kept me informed on every new job Lenny got and I made my phone call to them.



I had done that three more times before I got a call. It was Lenny and she was in tears.



"I know it's you."



"You know what's me?"



"You keep getting me fired."



"I have no idea what you are talking about."



"It has to be you."



"Goddamnit, what are you talking about?"



"Every time I get a new job, somebody calls and tells them I have STD's and they fire me."



"What, exactly, does that have to do with me?"



"It's you. I know it's you. I know you hate me, but please, I'm begging you, please stop it. I need to work. I need a job. Please, Andy."



"Why do you think it's me? I have no contact with you so I have no idea where you work so you're barking up the wrong tree. It's probably Tyler Jones trying to get even with you for not fucking him anymore. Or are you? Are you still fucking him? He said you were the best pussy he ever had, which leads me to believe that he hasn't had much because you were always just kind of mediocre in bed as far as I was concerned. Since our divorce, I've found out what good pussy is like and it is nothing like yours."



"No, I'm not fucking him and you caused that, too." Was she saying that she would still be fucking him if he were able to?



"I caused what?"



"You beat him up and now he will never be able to have sex again."



"Aw, that's too bad." I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. "Maybe you can find someone else to give you diseases... or you can infect them like you did me."



"Fuck you." And she hung up.



I laughed. Then I thought about what I had just told her; that I had found out what good pussy was like. The fact was, hers was the last I had and it was time to change that. Up until then I had made no effort to try to get a date or even talk to any women; but all of a sudden, it was time. 

<hr pg="2" />Three nights later, a couple came in. They were well dressed professional types. They had dinner in the restaurant then came into the bar for drinks and music. 



Their server had given them their first round of drinks while the woman was in the ladies room. I watched as the man put something in her drink, then picked it up and swirled it around. I walked over to the table.



"Excuse me, but I mixed the wrong drinks. My mistake so I'll replace them." I picked them both up, took them behind the bar and set them aside. I mixed two identical drinks and waited until the woman returned before I served them. Then I called the manager over and told her what I had done. He called the police. The couple finished their drinks, and the man ordered another round. Two police officers came in the back door and went straight to the manager's office. The manager had turned one of our security cameras directly on that table. I personally delivered the drinks. After a couple of minutes, the woman went to the piano player and made a request. The camera watched as the man dropped something into the woman's drink while she was talking to the pianist. As soon as it went into the glass, the two policemen came out and took him to the office. Then they arrested him! They retrieved the drink I had put behind the bar as well.



They asked the lady to follow them into the manager's office. Then they all left by the back door.



Two days later, I was ready to start work. It was shortly before seven in the evening. I was in the employees locker room putting on my official work shirt when the manager told me that there was someone waiting for me. She was sitting at the far end of the bar by herself. 



"She's been there since 5:00 drinking iced tea." He said.



Oh, great, I thought. Lenny's back.



I walked out and got behind the bar. The day shift bartender patted me on my shoulder and jerked his head in the direction of the woman.



I looked and it wasn't Lenny. I didn't know who she was. I picked up a bar towel, wiped my hands, tossed it on my shoulder, which is where I normally kept one, and walked over to her.



"Hi." I said as casually as I could. "I'm Andy. I understand you've been waiting for me."



She smiled. "Yes, I have. My name is Dana Alexander and I understand I have you to thank."



"For what?"



"For saving me from a creep who tried to give me Rohypnol. Not once but twice."



"Oh, I didn't recognize you. Are you okay?"



"I am. Thanks to you. I would have been in real trouble had it not been for you."



"It was nothing. Bastar... er, ah...men like that should be in Jail."



"Well, he is... or was until he made bail."



"I am assuming your husband would have no need for a date rape drug, so he must be a boyfriend."



"God no." she said. "He's a co-worker... or was. He was fired when the company found out what he did."



"Have the two of you dated long?"



"No. That was the first time. He was such a nice guy at work. He was hired six months ago but didn't start hitting on me until two weeks ago. I have a rule that I never date co-workers, but he wore me down and I agreed to go out with him."



"Did you have any indication he was going to try to drug you?"



"No. Dinner was fine and he was a perfect gentleman. He was like he was in the office, funny and intelligent... not to mention that I thought he was very good looking."



"Well, it's over now."



"Not quite." She said. "We still have to see him in court."



"We?" 



She laughed. "Yes, we. You can bet that you're going to be called as a witness."



I hadn't thought of that. That's okay. A chance to put an asshole like that in jail is not a problem for me. Dana Alexander sat at the bar a long time before leaving and we talked every chance I got between customers. I discovered that she and the asshole who tried to drug her were both architects. If I had been able to go to college, that's what I would like to have been.



She thanked me again and said goodbye, saying she would see me around. 



A couple of days after that, I was visited by a member of the District Attorney's Office. He wanted to discuss my appearing at the asshole's trial. 



Over the next few weeks, I had several meetings with him and other members of the DA's Staff. I never did see Dana Alexander.



In the meantime, I had met a couple of women who became regular sex partners for me. Nothing on this earth is better than getting laid. 



I enjoyed the company of both of them for about three months. There was no pretense about exclusivity. For all of us it was about sex for the fun of it. If I spent the night with one, the other was fine with it because she knew the next night was hers.



One evening they were sitting together at the bar when a woman and two men came in. The three sat at a table and over the course of a couple of hours, drank and danced. They were free with their affections in that she kissed both of them equally.



My two girls, Judy and Ana, danced their share of dances when they were asked. Between dances, a lot of our attention was directed to the trio. It was Judy who first mentioned the old movie Paint Your Wagon in which a woman had two husbands so she saw nothing wrong the trio we were watching. Then Ana suggested it might be fun to have two men at the same time.



"What about it, Andy? Would you be part of a threesome?" Judy asked me. 



I laughed. "Depends on the threesome." I said and walked away to wait on a customer. When I came back to the girls they were whispering. They stopped as I neared.



"What do you mean? Depends on the threesome." Ana asked.



"Well, being part of a boy, boy, girl threesome doesn't make my 'bucket list'. However..." Just then I moved to help another customer and I stayed to chat with him for a couple of minutes. We were interrupted by Judy banging her glass on the bar. 



"How about some service down here." She said.



I grinned and took the bar towel off my shoulder and took my time getting back to them, wiping the bar as I went. They had been sitting on their barstools when I left, but now both of them were standing leaning over the bar trying to get as close to me as they could.



As soon as I got to them, Judy whispered. "However, what?" 



I grinned again then leaned in close to both of them. "However, I don't know of any red blooded male who would pass up the chance of a threesome with two women." I whispered back.



They looked at me then at each other then, together, sat back on their stools.



"Would you girls like another drink? My treat." I said.



They declined, saying they had to leave. I was busy the rest of my shift.



It was after three in the morning when I got home. I showered and still drying myself, started for my bedroom and sleep. I had just tossed the towel on the floor and was ready to jump into bed when somebody knocked on my door. I picked up the towel, wrapped it around my waist and opened the door.



"We brought something to nibble on." Said Ana as she brushed past me with Judy right behind her. They had both been in my apartment before and had, in fact, spent the night on different occasions.



"Yeah. We thought you might be hungry." Chuckled Judy.



I looked from one to the other and they looked hot. Smokin' hot. "Where's the food?"



"Who said anything about food?" Said Ana.



"You did." 



"No. I said we brought something to nibble on. There's a difference." 



"Yeah." Said Judy, as she started unbuttoning her blouse. It was open and she had no bra. I had seen her tits before, but, as always, the sight of any bare breast generally gives any man a hardon because men are such whores. She took the blouse off and kissed me, softly and tenderly.



"Hey, this is convenient." Said Ana and she pointed to my towel.



"It's like he was expecting us." Said Judy.



Ana put her lips as close to mine as she could without actually touching them and breathed, rather than actually speaking. "Is that it, Andy? Were you expecting us?"



Then she kissed me while reaching down to loosen my towel and let it drop to the floor.



My knees buckled. Judy got on one side of me, and Ana the other. They took hold of my arms and walked me, backwards, to my bedroom. I felt my legs hit the side of my bed and they pushed me down to where I was sitting. Judy finished taking off her blouse. Ana was wearing a shirt and she pulled it over her head. She, too, was braless. My eyes darted from one set of tits to the other.



Judy reached up and started playing with her nipples. "We didn't bring food, but you can nibble on these."



"And these." Added Ana as she put her hands on the sides of her breasts and wiggled them back and forth.



"Oh, look." Said Judy. "He's happy to see us." As she pointed to my now fully hard dick. She pushed me backward so my feet were still on the floor, but my back was on the bed. She unfastened her jeans and slid them and her panties off at the same time while Ana did the same. Judy climbed on the bed and straddled me until her pussy was at my mouth. "Here's something else you can nibble on." She reached with both hands and spread her lips open. "Bon appetite." She said as she lowered herself to my waiting mouth.



In the meantime, Ana was on her knees between my legs. "I'll just nibble on this while you're busy." And she put her mouth on my dick and sucked it in.



The rest of the night was absolute heaven. The Queen-sized bed I thought was too big turned out to be perfect.



The three of us together became a common thing, for about three months. But then Judy went on a cruise with some of her Sorority sisters and came back smitten by one of the ship's junior officers. Ana, on the other hand was promoted by her company and transferred to Phoenix.



I was going to miss them, but at the same time, I breathed a sigh of relief. I needed some rest!



The girls and I had been together for a couple of months when the date rape guy's trail came up. I appeared as a witness for the prosecution and the bastard got five years in prison. I hoped his cellmate was a big bastard with a big dick who liked to assfuck attempted rapists.



The trial only lasted one day. I saw Dana Alexander there but we never spoke. 



Bryce came by. He was laughing and told me that Lenny and Charlotte's friendship was over. They both got drunk one night and started arguing. Lenny accused Charlotte of leading her astray and causing her divorce. Charlotte countered with accusing Lenny of being a whore, which I thought was an example of the pot calling the kettle black. Charlotte finally left in a drunken rage, got in her car and less than a block from the house sideswiped another car, crashed through a fence, and ran into a house. She totaled her uninsured car (Apparently she didn't like insurance because her trailer was uninsured as well.) She received facial injuries that would scar her for life in addition to six months in jail for driving without insurance and leaving the scene of an accident.



I told Bryce that I wasn't interested in hearing any more about Lenny or Charlotte and that I considered that part of my life closed. 



I was promoted to day manager at work so no more night work for me except when necessary to fill in for the night manager when he was off. He did the same for me.



One Wednesday evening, we had a particularly large crowd so were extremely busy. We like to be busy in the restaurant and bar business. It means people are eating and drinking. 



I was sitting at the far end of the bar with a glass of ice water when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and Dana Alexander was there. I stood and turned to her.



"Good evening." I said. "How are you?"



"I'm fine thank you. And you?"



"Pretty good, thank you. What can I do for you?"



"Nothing, really. We just came in for dinner and I thought I'd say hello" 



"Good. Enjoy yourselves."



I watched her join a couple and the three of them walked into the restaurant. 



Later in the evening, I was helping a woman get her husband out the door and into a cab after he had one too many drinks. I made a note to remind myself to speak to our servers about 'overserving' our guests.



I watched the cab pull away and turned to go back inside and almost bumped into Dana. 



"I was looking for you." She said.



"Here I am."



"I can see that. Still looking out for people, I see."



"Just part of the job, ma'am." I said with an exaggerated Texas drawl.



"Listen, I don't want to appear forward, and, honestly, I've never done this before, but would you be interested in having a drink with me sometime?"



I just looked at her. Of all the things I could expect, being asked out on a date by Dana Alexander never hit my radar screen. "Uh... "



"I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you. You're either married or in a relationship. So, if you'll excuse me." She started to leave.



"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute." I grabbed her arm and turned her to face me. "I'm not married and I'm not in a relationship. It's just that no beautiful woman has ever asked me out before and I was; still am, actually, in shock. I would love to have a drink with you."



She smiled. "Great. How about Friday? Or do you work?"



"Friday will be perfect. What time and where shall I pick you up?"



"Well, since I asked you, I will pick you up at seven. Just tell me where."



I gave her my address.



I was ready at seven when she drove up. I had no idea what to wear and for the first time in my life, I knew how a woman felt on a first date. I settled on slacks and sport coat with a tie. 



"Would you mind if we changed from drinks to dinner?" She asked. "I missed lunch today.



"Not at all." Was my reply.



We went to a very nice restaurant, ate dinner, danced and she took me home. When we got there, she got out of the car as if she was going to walk me to my door. I figured the 'turn about' thing had gone far enough so I told her there was no need for her to walk me to my door.



"How else am I going to kiss you good night?" She asked.



I walked around to her side of the car. "I can fix that." I told her. I took her in my arms and said. "Thank you for a wonderful evening." Then I kissed her. Not on the cheek, but right smack dab on the mouth.



She got in her car and drove away. I literally bounced up the stairs to my apartment wondering how I was so lucky. My good mood was short lived, however when I realized I hadn't gotten her phone number.



As I usually do when I undress, I emptied my pockets; that includes my jacket pockets. When I reached in my left jacket pocket, I pulled out a business card. It was Dana's and on the back she had written her cell number. She must have slipped it there during one of our dances.



It was a business card so it had the name and address of her firm. I didn't call her over the weekend but on Monday morning I ordered two dozen roses to be delivered to her at her office. At one that afternoon, I answered the bar's phone.



"Oriskany's, May I help you?" Not the greatest name in the world, but it was one of the best, most popular night spots in the city. The man who first opened the joint had served aboard the USS Oriskany in World War II so he named his place after the ship. There was even a big model of the ship behind the bar.



"Is this Andy? 



"It is." 



"Hi. It's Dana. I just received some beautiful roses. Thank you."



"You are most welcome my lady." There was a slight pause before I spoke again. "I was going to call you later to see if you might consider another dinner with me."



"I would like that. When did you have in mind?"



"Well, this is Monday, and Friday is usually a big date night, so how about tomorrow?"



She laughed. "I don't know where you developed your logic, but tomorrow sounds fine."



She gave me her address and I asked her if seven was okay.



It was a very nice house. In a very nice neighborhood. And we had another very nice evening. The next several weeks we went out at least three times each week. I learned that she was divorced after five years of marriage because they just fell out of love. They were still good friends; as a matter of fact, she said that they were better friends now than when they were married and he now lived on the west coast. The house she lived in had been their house and she had gotten it in the divorce.



I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard; paying the mortgage on a beautiful house that he couldn't live in. I felt even worse the first time Dana and I made love in that house. On their bed. And we took a shower together in the same shower she had shared with him.



We were happy for about six months. We laughed, joked, and went out quite a bit and each time we went out, I was thankful that I worked days, except, as I've already said, those times when the night manager was off.



As was my usual custom, I called her to see when she wanted to go out again.



"I'm sorry, Andy, but my ex popped into town and I'm going to have dinner with him." 



"Uh, okay. Sure. Have fun." I stammered. My immediate thought was that she had told me they had 'just fallen out of love' with each other and were 'better friends now than when we were married'. I waited two days before calling her again.



"Andy, Cliff (her ex's name) is still here and we're chatting about some things. And besides, my firm has a deadline on a new building we're designing and I have to verify some figures."



I had heard stories about 'sex with the ex' and was beginning to wonder if Dana and Cliff were partaking. 



I was in a quandary. I had no reason to believe she and Cliff were sleeping together but I had no reason to believe Lenny had been cheating, either. The difference was that Lenny and I were married while Dana and I were not. I didn't have to like it, but she was free to sleep with whoever she wanted.



Still, part of me wanted to find out the truth. Part of me wanted to ask her but the rest of me didn't want to know if she was sleeping with him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!



I called her and it went straight to voicemail. I called her office.



"I'm sorry, but Ms. Alexander is not available. Would you like to leave a message?"



"No. No message."



A week went by. I was in my little manager's office when I called her again. 



She answered. "Hi. What's up?" 



"Well, we haven't talked for over a week and I was just wondering..."



"Oh, Andy, I have been so busy."



"Let me ask you a question."



"Sure."



"Is Cliff still in town?"



"Why would you ask that?"



"Is he?"



"Why are you concerned about him?"



Then I just blurted it out. "Are you sleeping with him?"



The next thing I heard was silence as she ended the call. That pretty much told me what I needed to know. 



I went back into the restaurant and kitchen to check on how things were going. I sulked around until the end of my shift when I went home. As usual, I emptied my pockets, took off my clothes, and hit the showers. After my shower, I put on my bathrobe, fixed myself a gin &amp; Tonic and sat to watch the news. I sat in my recliner, leaned back, hit the 'on' button on the remote, and took a sip of my drink.



No sooner than I had done that than someone was banging on my door so hard it sounded like it was coming off it's hinges. I stood, put my drink down and opened the door. Ms. Dana Alexander burst into the room and started.



"You asshole. You bleeding fucking asshole. You insensitive, stupid, bleeding fucking asshole. I'm a free woman over 21 and I can damn well do what I want to. No insecure twit is going to change that. If I want to fuck my ex-husband and 20 others, that's my right. Just like it's your right to do the same. I..."



I stuck up my hand and interrupted her. "Hold on, just a minute. Let's get one thing straight. I have no desire to fuck your ex-husband and 20 others."



She just stood there looking at me. "What are you talking about?"



"You just said it was my right to fuck your ex-husband and 20 others and I told you I didn't want to."

<hr pg="3" />"That's not what I said."



"It's exactly what you said."



"Well, that's not what I meant."



"Oh? Okay then go on with your tirade."



She took a deep breath. "The point is, you can't tell me who to sleep with just like I can't tell you who to sleep with."



"I didn't want to sleep with anyone but you."



"Didn't? What do you mean, 'Didn't'? Don't you want to now?"



"Not if you've been sleeping with your ex-husband and 20 others."



"Goddamnit, I'm not sleeping with anybody but you. That's what I've been trying to tell you."



"Then where have you been for over a week?"



"I've been working, goose. Our building plans are behind schedule and we will be penalized if we don't get caught up."



"You didn't have time for me, but you had time for Cliff?"



"We were working on a deal for me to buy my house. He is getting married again and can't afford the payments on two houses so he wanted to know if I wanted to buy it."



"Where did he stay? With you?"



"Are you going to be this jealous for the rest of our lives?"



"Yes. Where did he stay?"



"With his sister about four miles from my house."



"And you never slept with him?"



"That's a stupid question. Of course I slept with him. He was my husband."



She was giving some of my sarcasm back to me.



"I mean while he was here this time."



"Do you not listen? No, I didn't sleep with him."



"How about the 20 other guys?"



"Asshole. Fix me a drink, then get naked, and I'll show you who I'm fucking."

