TITLE    : Did My Wife Fuck Tyler Jones?
STORYID  : did-my-wife-fuck-tyler-jones
SUMMARY  : Do I believe her when she admits it or when she denies it?
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2020-02-12
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cheating wives|loving wives|wife|husband|


This is a work of pure fiction. All names, locations, and situations are figments of my imagination.



Has anybody ever noticed how nice the city of Cleveland is?



***



Did my wife fuck Tyler Jones?... Do I believe her when she admits it or when she denies it?



It had been a fun evening. We ate dinner at a nice restaurant then we decided to go downscale a bit and went dancing in a bar neither of us had ever been in; The Foggy Coast Bar. We both worked in an upscale place closer to downtown. We had heard that the drinks at The Foggy Coast were honest, the music good, and the dance floor big. I never tired of spending time with her and tonight was no exception. As a matter of fact, it was more fun than usual because she had been drinking. She rarely has more than two drinks during the course of an evening, but tonight she had four. I don't know what brought on the desire to drink that night, but as I said, it was fun. She was a happy drunk and I was curious to see how her being drunk would affect our sex that night. I was looking forward to finding out.



We both love to dance and had done our share. As usual when we went out she was hit on by several men who wanted to dance with her. And, again, as usual, she turned them all down. 



As we left the bar, she struggled with her coat, hit herself in the head with her purse when she had it in her hand and tried to put that hand through the sleeve of her coat and got frustrated when it wouldn't fit. Then she tripped going out the door and fell into my arms. I caught her and she looked up at me. She tripped a couple more times, but we made it to the car.



"You're my hubby. Right?" She asked as I struggled to get her in the car. I was beginning to think that sex was probably out for the night.



"Yes, I am." I said, laughing. 



"I fucked Tyler Jones." And she giggled.



"What did you say?" I looked at her and she had passed out. 



I got her home and put her to bed. I have undressed her a lot over the past three years and it never ceased to amaze me how nice her body was. She liked sleeping in the nude so I left her like that. Tonight was different, however. As I undressed her, I couldn't help but wonder if Tyler Jones, whoever he was, had undressed her and put his hands on her breasts, her ass, or her pussy. If she had fucked him, did she also give him a blowjob? She loved giving them. Did he cum in her mouth? If he did, I know she swallowed. She loved to swallow. 



I didn't sleep much that night, but she did. She didn't wake up until noon the next day. 



I had just brewed myself another cup of coffee. Actually, brewed is too strong of a word. I put the little pod in the individual cup coffee maker and pressed the button and coffee filled my cup. I then added some Bailey's to it and sat at the kitchen island sipping on it. It was my fourth cup of the day. My normal limit is two.



Lenny, Short for Lenora, came stumbling into the kitchen still naked. She put her own pod in the coffee machine, put her cup under the dispenser and stood waiting for her cup to fill. When it did, she picked it up, walked and sat on the stool beside me.



We sat there deep in our own thoughts drinking our coffee. I spoke first.



"Who's Tyler Jones?"



"What?"



"Who's Tyler Jones?"



"Uh, I don't know."



"Are you sure?"



She just looked at me. "Why?"



I took another sip of my coffee before I spoke. "Because last night before you passed out you told me you fucked him."



"I what?"



"You told me you fucked him."



"Andy," That's my nickname. Andy, short for Andrew. "I have no idea what you are talking about."



I've known Lenny for almost four years. We had been married for the last three, well, almost three. I was a bartender... still am, as a matter of fact. She's a server at the same establishment. I had worked there over a year before she started. We tried to work the same shifts, but it didn't always work out that way. Sometimes I worked days and she worked nights, and vice versa. 



Shortly after she started working there, she and I had our first date. Less than a month after that, we had sex for the first time and have had it at least four times a week since.



I just looked at her.



She spoke. "Goddamn it I was drunk and we've both seen enough drunks to know they are subject to say anything."



And most of the things they say are true, I thought.



We sat in silence finishing our coffee. 



"I'm going to get dressed." She said with an attitude as she took both of our cups and, as she normally did, washed them and put them on the sink to dry. I always enjoyed watching her do that because her tits jiggled as she washed them and I loved watching her tits jiggle. But that morning she washed them with more vigor making her tits jiggle more; but I didn't appreciate it. In my mind, I saw Tyler Jones with his hands on them bouncing them back and forth. 



We didn't talk much that day or that evening at work. Some people believe that living and working together puts a big strain on marriages, but it hadn't seemed to in our case. Until now. The next two days were the same. Very little speaking, no touching and no sex. At work, it seemed to me that Lenny was spending more time than necessary with some of her customers; but maybe it was my imagination.



Finally, I said. "Okay I've had enough. I either want our life back or this marriage is over."



"I agree." Said Lenny. "I'm tired of you looking at me like you're wondering when I'm going to take the next customer out back and fuck him. So say what's on your mind."



"Okay. 'In vino veritas'."



"What?"



"In wine lies the truth. Almost every civilized culture in the world has a saying similar to that because they have all experienced the fact, THE FACT, Lenny, that from the mouths of children and drunks you will hear the truth. You said, 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. You had no reason to say it and I've never suggested you've slept with anybody else since we've been married, but there it was plain as day, out of your drunken mouth 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. If it was before we were married, that's okay. If not, we have a problem."



"Then we have a problem because I don't know why I said it or even if I said it?"



"What do you mean 'if' you said it? Of course you said it. Why would I pick that name out of thin air and lie about something like that?"



"Tell me why I should believe YOU, Andy. Apparently, you don't believe ME. So it appears we have a stalemate." She said.



"Yeah, I guess we do."



The stalemate continued for another week. For the first time since the beginning of our relationship, we didn't have sex.



We both had cars. Older model cars because we were saving to buy a house, but I was planning to surprise her with a new car for Christmas. This week, because of the stalemate, we had driven to work separately. On Thursday when I got to work, I kept waiting for her to show up, but another server was working Lenny's usual tables. I called the night manager over. "Gill, why is Kathy working Lenny's tables?"



"Because she called in this morning and took the day off."



"She didn't tell me anything about it." I said.



"Maybe the two of you should communicate better."



We were busy and I couldn't call her so I waited until it slowed down. I took a break and called her. No answer. Right to voice mail. Nine thirty at night and she didn't answer her phone. I looked up to see Gill headed my way.



"Gill, Lenny doesn't answer her phone. I think I better go home and find out what's going on."



"That's a good idea. She just called and quit. Said she wouldn't be back."



"I have to go." I was on my phone as I took my coat off the hook and buttoned it against the cold air. She still didn't answer.



I unlocked our apartment door and went in. She wasn't there. A search of the apartment found that some of her clothes and her makeup case were missing.



It was almost midnight when I called her parents. "Have you heard from Lenny?" I asked when her father answered. 



"We have."



"Where is she?"



"Probably at Charlotte's, Andy. What's going on?" So I gave him the short version. "You two better get your act together before it's too late."



I called Charlotte. She and Lenny had been best friends since they were three. No answer, so I left a message. "Please ask Lenny to call me."



Obviously, the stalemate had been broken and she had made the first move. I kept going over in my mind what I could have done differently and always had the same result. Nothing. 



She got drunk and said what she said. I believe I reacted the way the average husband would have. 



I lay on our bed and tried to sleep. No luck. I got up and tried to eat. No luck. About mid-morning, I called her brother. 



"Sorry, Andy. The only thing I can tell you is you really stepped on your dick."



I called Charlotte again.



"Hello, Andy." She said.



"Have you heard from Lenny?"



"I have."



"Do you know where she is?"



"She's here with me."



"May I talk to her?"



"Not right now. She's really pissed and disappointed that you don't believe her."



"Believe her when? When she says she fucked him or when she denies she fucked him?"



"Don't be an asshole."



"Asshole? What am I supposed to do? Tell me what I'm supposed to do?"



"You can believe her."



"Goddamnit, I just asked you do I believe her when she admits it or denies it?"



"You need to get your shit together, Andy, or your marriage is over."



"Get my shit together? She started it. She needs to prove to me she didn't fuck this guy."



"Exactly how does she do that?"



"I don't know. Take a lie detector test, swear on a stack of bibles, something... anything! I don't care how she does it."



"Bullshit. Maybe you should prove that she did it. Innocent until proven guilty. Right?"



"But she fucking confessed!"



"I told you to get it together Andy, or your marriage is over." She hung up.



'Maybe you should prove that she did it.' That's what Charlotte had said. At eleven, I called in to work. Gill was not there but the day manager was. I told him the story and that I needed some time off.



He had already heard part of it from Gill. "How much time?"



"At least a week, maybe more. I have a lot to figure out."



"Well, you and Lenny were scheduled to be shifted back to days next week but we can make do for a while. Take two weeks. We'll charge it to your vacation time. We'll see about more if you need it. I'll clear it with Gill."



The first two days I was off, I struggled to make sense of my new world. I tried calling her a few times but without success.



'Maybe you should prove that she did it' kept going through my mind. I developed a plan... it was a desperate plan, but it was a plan. I went to the library and looked up every high school yearbook for the year she and I graduated and two years before and after. I read every word on every page of every book looking for any reference to Tyler Jones. It took me three full days but I found three of them. 



At home, I looked online to see if their schools had reunion committees. They did. They also had bios of everyone and where they were now and what they were doing. They even included places of employment for most of them.



The first Tyler Jones worked in Washington, D.C. so he would be difficult to chat with. His bio showed that after graduation he went to The Ohio State University and immediately after graduating from there went to Washington to intern for some member of congress. The other two still lived locally. One sold cars and they named the dealership. Some car salesmen, I understand, tend to bounce around like some truck drivers, never staying long in one place so I didn't know if he was still at the same dealership shown in his bio.



I stood in the customer service area of the automobile dealership listed as being Tyler Jones' place of employment. One of the mechanics walked by and I asked him if Tyler Jones still worked there. He did. Then I asked the same mechanic to point him out for me if he was around. He wasn't on the showroom floor, but was outside talking to a prospective buyer.



I thanked the mechanic and left. I knew I was taking a chance but I left and returned shortly before they were scheduled to close. I was lucky; he was still there. When he left, I followed him. He stopped at a local watering hole not far from the dealership and went in.



I waited a few minutes and followed him in. There was an empty stool beside him and I sat. 



As men at a bar will, we started talking. "I'm Andy Buckles." I stuck my hand out for him to shake. I watched his face to see if I detected any sign he recognized the name.



"Tyler Jones." He said. We ended up spending a couple of hours chatting and buying each other drinks. This went on for two more evenings. Drink and chat. This guy was smooth. I got the impression he could talk anybody into anything. I bet he sold a lot of cars. He was funny, sharp, and handsome. I almost liked the guy. I decided that too many evenings in a row could look strange so I stopped for a while. I still had some time off so I looked up the third Tyler Jones.



This guy was a TV News producer and I couldn't get into the TV Studio to see him. I made a copy of his senior picture and, like I did with the other Tyler Jones, sat outside where he worked to see if I could spot him. It was after nine in the evening on my second night of watching that I recognized him. He had gained about a hundred pounds, but it was him nevertheless. There was a car waiting for him and he got in it, leaned over and gave the driver a long, slow kiss. They broke that kiss then kissed again. Then the driver started to pull out. He turned his head to look over his shoulder to check traffic. At that point, I eliminated that particular Tyler Jones as a possible sex partner for my wife. 



So back to concentrating on the other Jones. During the course of our bar conversations, I learned that he had been divorced for almost three years and had two children. The divorce was basically his fault. He had a drinking problem and his wife got tired of it so she kicked him out. 



He missed his kids and didn't see them often. He still drinks, but maintains that he hasn't been drunk since right after the divorce. He deduced that he was drunk all the time because she drove him to it. She was hot and the sex was as well, but she 'drove me fucking crazy so I drank a lot' he told me. He's a lot happier not being married.



"Look at all the people on the Andy Griffith show." He said. "They were all happy except one. Do you know why? They were all single. The only unhappy one was Otis and he was married so he stayed drunk."



At times, I almost forgot who he was. His personality was a winning one. He has had more pussy than any five men I know... at least according to him. But I still had to find out if one of those pussies belonged to my wife; and if it was, why would she pick him to fuck? Why would she need to pick anybody to fuck? There had never been any indication that she was unhappy with our lives or our sex routines. I certainly wasn't unhappy with either.



I knew, of course, that she got 'hit on' virtually every day she worked, but I never had cause to think she took any of it seriously or acted on it.



I'd had enough time off work and was ready to go back. I called and was told I was on day shift and could start back the next day. I worked a full shift and it felt good to be back although I caught myself looking around trying to find Lenny waiting tables.



I still made an effort to talk to her, but to no avail. I was beginning to wonder if she was doing anything to help save the marriage. I also wondered if she was going out with other men.



One night I was off so I sat outside Charlotte's house and waited. Lenny and Charlotte came out, got in Lenny's car and left. I followed them but got caught in traffic and lost them. I went back to Charlotte's house and waited. They came back about three hours later loaded with packages. I got out and approached them.



"Lenny. Lenny. We have to talk."



"The only thing I want to hear from you is an apology. Otherwise stay away from me and quit stalking me or I'll get a restraining order.



"Lenny, please, listen. I have a couple of options we can talk about."



"No, you fucking listen. Apologize or stay away from me. Those are the only two options I'm interested in."



With that they went in the house. I got in my car and left.



I was still working days and decided to go back and spend more time with Jones. I went back in the evenings when I got off day shift. He was there about half the times I was. I supposed he came in when he didn't have a pussy to go to. 



It had been several days since I had seen him and we greeted each other like old friends. 



One evening, we watched as a couple came in. We watched because the woman was nothing short of spectacular in every respect. If there is a perfect figure, she had it. If there is a perfect hairstyle, she had it. If there is a perfect dress, she was wearing it. Okay, she was almost wearing it. It showed more of her than it concealed. Low cut in both front and back... really low cut. Her nipples were clearly visible trying to poke holes in the dress. Like the lyrics of the old song, 'She was hotter than a two dollar pistol'.



Neither one of us said anything as we watched them cross to a table and sit. When she did, she crossed her legs and the slit in her dress revealed a leg almost up to her hips. I suddenly remembered how long it had been since I saw bare legs and stiff nipples. My dick got hard.



"Holy mother of God." Jones barely whispered.



"Amen." I responded.



"I've had my share of women but, shit, she is probably the nicest thing I have ever seen." He called the bartender over. "Who the hell is that?"



"That's Mike and Vicki Hairston. He's one of those personal injury lawyers you see on TV. Once in a great while they come in here for a drink or two. He just likes to show her off to those of us in the unwashed masses."



I hadn't paid any attention to him because of her, but now I looked and did recognize him from his TV ads.



Jones spoke. "My ex-wife is no slouch, but the closest I've ever come to having something as nice as that," He nodded in the direction of Vicki Hairston. "started a few months ago."



"Started?" I asked.



"Yeah. I stopped in a place I'd never been before. My waitress was hot. Not in the same class as Vicki over there, but hot. My first time there was okay. She and I chatted a bit, but nothing else. She was wearing a wedding ring, but that had never stopped me before. Lots of married women are looking for strange dick. Some of them don't even know it, so I try to help them along, and convince them that every woman needs a different man once in a while. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I asked her if she was happy in her marriage."



"Of course, but it seems we never do anything other than work and go home. Sometimes dinner and dancing. So sometimes when he works nights, and I work days, I go out and party." 



As soon as she told me that, I knew I was going to fuck her. Women who go out alone and party when their husbands are working are my favorites. Subconsciously they are looking to get fucked; it's just a matter of time and opportunity."



He continued. 



"By the fourth time I was there, she had agreed to meet for a drink. That drink date led to other short dates. We had dinner a couple of times. We danced. That girl would rather dance than fuck, I believe. And when we danced, oh, my God. It didn't happen at first, but later she rubbed herself all over me and when she felt my hardon, she rubbed harder.



"And it was interesting because we did the same things she said she and her husband did and she seemed perfectly content. 



"We have to be careful because of her husband, so we only see each other when they work opposite shifts. If he works days, we see each other then. It was when he was working one night that shit really got hot." 

<hr pg="2" />I inhaled sharply. Lenny loved to dance and we did it as often as we could. We even danced at work when no customers were there. The rest of the staff would always watch and applaud.



"So what happened?" I asked.



At this point, a couple of other bar patrons started listening to him. He made no attempt to keep his voice low and seemed happy to have an audience.



He laughed. "We were out dancing one evening. I wanted to get my hands on her bodacious tatas and every other part of her. She seemed a little friendlier and we were dry fucking on the dance floor so I just came right out and asked her."



"Asked her what?"



"If she was ready to be fucked."



"What did she say?"



"She stopped grinding against me and thought for a few seconds. I thought I had made a mistake. She looked at me and I could see she had made her decision."



She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, but we only have about three hours until my hubby gets home." 



Hubby? That's what Lenny called me. Hubby. This guy was a real salesman. I had the feeling that he could sell anything to anybody and that most of his pussy stories had, at least, an element of truth to them. I was beginning to not like him very much.



"We almost ran to my car to get to my apartment." He continued. "She tripped going up the steps and I got a glimpse up her skirt. I liked what I saw and reached my hand up there and grabbed her puss. She was wearing panties and they were wet, man. I mean soaking wet. I knew then that this was going to be one hot piece of ass. She squealed, and laughed, and scrambled up the steps."



Two more men and two women had joined his audience. I could understand the men listening, but the women surprised me.



"When we got upstairs we wasted no time getting our clothes off. When she was completely naked, she stood there and so did I. I just stared. Every curve on her was perfect. Her chest, waist and hips were perfectly proportioned. I was looking at her but I could feel my dick getting hard. When it started to move she looked at it and watched as it stood at attention. She sauntered over wiggling her hips and shaking her breasts. God was she sexy. She put her hands on my hips and slowly lowered herself to her knees, leaned her head forward and took my dick into her mouth and started sucking. I reached down, grabbed the back of her head and held it as I slowly fucked back and forth in her mouth. She tightened her grip on my hips and helped me by pushing and pulling."



He laughed. "Then she started to speed up. Man, that girl was slurpin' and gobblin' and gaggin' all at the same time. I was in heaven and apparently, so was she. It didn't take long for me to cum and we both loved it. When I did cum if I hadn't been holding on to her head I would have knocked her over backwards."



One of the women nudged her male companion. "That's nothing new. We do that all the time."



Her companion just looked at her and rolled his eyes as if to say 'in your dreams'.



"When I was finished, she stood and said 'your turn' and ran to the bed and literally plopped her pretty ass on the bed, opened her legs, reached down, spread her pussy lips open and then stuck a finger in her mouth then in her pussy and back in her mouth. 'Come to mama, baby and eat this pussy'. I was between her legs in nothing flat with my tongue in her. I licked, sucked, and nibbled as she urged me on. 'Eat it baby. Come on eat me out. It's your cunt baby. Show me it's your cunt. Right there. That's it.' She never stopped; either talking or cumming. I swallowed a lot of her."



I heard another lady. "God, that's making me wet." Almost all of the men around us looked at her when she said that. She turned red. "Well, it does!"



Was this my wife he was describing? Lenny, like most women, I expect, love to have their pussies eaten and she loves to give blowjobs; even some of the talking sounded like her, but she was more of a moaner. Maybe this guy had some technique that drove her crazy... but I thought I did that. I reached for my drink, drank it all down and ordered another one. I didn't know if I wanted him to continue or not. He didn't care what I wanted, he was on a roll.



"After a long time, she called a halt and said she needed to rest. So did I. My tongue was sore, my neck was sore, and my back was sore. I got both of us a drink and we lay on the bed sipping them. It didn't take long before she reached down and started playing with herself. She stuck her finger in her puss and she brought it out and rubbed it around the lip of her glass. Then she repeated it only this time she rubbed it on my glass. When she finished with the rim, she stuck her finger in my drink and stirred it around. Then she told me to open my mouth and she stuck her finger in. I sucked on her finger and she started moaning. Both of our glasses went on the floor as I pushed her down and climbed on top of her. When I did, she reached down, grabbed my dick and aimed it at her puss. I shoved and she lifted her hips at the same time. As soon as I hit bottom, she started talking again. 'Fuck me, baby. Gimme some peter, baby. Fuck that pussy. Pound it, sweetie'. And with the talk were the grunts. Every time I rammed into her, she grunted. When I pulled out, she moaned. And between the grunts and moans were the words. Fuck me, baby. Harder. Goddamn it, harder. Fuck me. Pound me. And on and on. I never worked so hard in my life or enjoyed it more." He paused to take a drink. "God Damn, look at me. I'm sweating like a racehorse just thinking about it."



I was sweating as well, but for a different reason. Mine wasn't excitement; it was nervousness. Peter was a word Lenny used when she was teasing me. She would ask 'does your peter want to fuck me?' It was not in reference to my size, she just liked the word and we both thought it was funny. 



I looked around at the people who were listening to him. Two men were laughing and one couple was debating. I heard the woman telling her companion that she could do the same things 'that bitch can do' and the man suggested they should go try. They rushed out. 



One man came up and patted Jones on the back. "Hey, man. If you're not still bangin' that broad, give me her name." 



"Still bangin' her? Of course I'm still bangin' her. That pussy is too good to give up."



That started another chorus of laughter and debates. One man said no pussy is too good to give up. The woman next to him punched him on the arm and said, "Really? Well, you just gave this one up, asshole." And she stormed out with him after her trying to convince her he was kidding.



Another guy asked where she worked. 



"Nowhere now. She's taking a break." Said Jones.



"Takin' a break?" Some guy shouted. "Tell me where she is and I'll take it with her."



Taking a break? Lenny wasn't working as far as I knew.



"Well, where is she?" Asked another guy.



He looked at his watch. "She's with her best friend right now, but she'll be sucking my dick later tonight.



My stomach jumped to my throat. "You said she's married. Where's her husband?" I asked.



"Probably at home jacking off."



Lots of laughter from his little audience.



I wanted to leave, but at the same time, I needed to stay. I pulled out my phone and called Charlotte.



She answered and there was loud music in the background. "Hey, Andy. Can't talk now we're busy." In the background I heard a voice I would swear was Lenny's. 'Tell him I'm waiting for that apology.' There was laughter as she ended the call.



Tyler Jones was a popular guy that evening and spent more time going over his exploits. He regaled his growing audience with stories of his conquests. The men cheered and the women who were listening, chided him and called him 'Superstud'. The men wanted to believe him, but the women mostly laughed. 



He maintained that after his divorce he slowed down on his drinking, but increased his fucking. In fact his best friend started passing out stickers which said, 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. Those stickers were even on the walls of a couple of women's bathrooms in some of the not so upscale bars in the neighborhoods along the lakeshore.



That comment got my attention. I excused myself and headed for the lake. I went right to The Foggy Coast Bar. It was the bar Lenny and I were in the night she said 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. I sat at the bar and, although I didn't need it, ordered a drink. It was getting late and the place was full. I kept watching the bathrooms, especially the women's. There was a steady flow of traffic in and out. Finally, the place was closing. 



"Drink up, mac. It's time to go home." Said the bartender, the same words I had said many times.



I hesitated before I spoke. "I, uh, have a pretty strange request."



"What's that?"



"I was talking to a friend of mine. His name is Tyler Jones. He told me that there were 'I fucked Tyler Jones' stickers in women's bathrooms in bars all over the neighborhood. I don't believe him so I was wondering if there were any here and if I could see for myself."



He started laughing. "That asshole. His buddy did it as a joke and for a little while those stickers were all the rage. Women who had never heard of him before were coming in here asking for them to give to their girlfriends at wedding showers and shit like that. We still have some on the stall doors in there. Come on and I'll show you. We went to the door of the women's bathroom and he knocked to make sure no one was in there. We went in and sure enough, on each side of the doors on the four stalls were the stickers. 



I breathed a sigh of relief. If Lenny, in her drunken condition, went to the bathroom, sat in one of the stalls, saw the sticker on the door, then said to me 'I fucked Tyler Jones', she was just trying to tell me what she had seen. That made perfect sense to me.



Lenny had been gone over a month. He said he first fucked her several months ago and had fucked her occasionally since. 



It couldn't be my Lenny. Jones might be able to talk people into buying cars, but to talk a happily married wife into fucking just to fuck? Could he do that? Fucking someone just to fuck them and jeopardize a marriage? Could she do that? Would she do that? 



It had to be the stickers. She saw them and wanted to tell me about it. I was starting to feel good.



I called Lenny but she still didn't answer. I called Charlotte. Like the last time I called, there was loud music in the background.



"What do you want, Andy?" She sounded a bit on the drunk side



"I need to talk to Lenny."



"She isn't here."



"Where is she?"



"None of your business."



"Is she with someone?"



"Uh,... that's none of your business, either."



"Ask her to call me, please, Charlotte."



"Okay. When I see her I'll tell her."



"When will you see her."



"Probably not until tomor... Uh, later tonight."



Fuck, I thought. I wonder if she is just jerking my chain. I hoped she was. 



"Look, tell her if she is interested in saving this marriage she can go to The Foggy Coast Bar and take a few minutes to use their bathroom."



"What?"



"You heard me." And I returned to work. I thought that if she wanted to work on the marriage, she might go there that night... then again, if she were out with someone...?



It was almost noon the next day when my phone rang. It was Lenny. I didn't answer it but I read the text she left. 



"I saw the stickers. I know what happened. Call me, please." 



I turned it off and left it off. She wouldn't talk to me for weeks so now it's my turn. I knew she still had a key to our apartment so I slept in the back of the bar that night. I ignored her calls like she had ignored mine, but it was painful. I wanted to see her and hold her and tell her I loved her but I also wanted her to suffer just a little.



The next day, I was behind the bar when I heard a familiar voice call out a drink order. I turned and it was Lenny in her work uniform. I looked at her. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out something and slapped it on her uniform shirt.



"I want to fuck Andy Buckles," Said the sticker. She had to have worked fast to have it made in such a short time. She wore it the rest of the night and took lots of jeers, hoots, and hollers. We just smiled at each other every chance we got. Lots of people, men and women gave me encouragement. "Go for it, Andy" or "Lucky bastard" or "Need any help, Andy?" More than one guy introduced himself to her as 'Andy Buckles'.



Towards the end of the night, the crowd had thinned out. Some of the staff were getting a jump on cleaning the place. Lenny and I locked eyes. I finished wiping my hands on a bar towel, and we walked toward each other and met on the dance floor. One other couple was dancing... if you could call rubbing bodies together dancing.



"I'm sorry." I said when we were just inches away from each other. I reached and took the sticker off her apron, looked at it, smiled, and put it in my pocket.



"Me, too." She said



"Care to dance?"



"Love to."



We danced for a couple of minutes. Her familiar curves and bumps felt good against my body and I started getting hard for the first time since seeing Vicki Hairston.



"When are you going to make good on that sticker?" I asked pressing myself against her.



She put her hands on either side of my face and kissed me, deeply and tenderly. All the while pressing back.



"As soon as you get me home and get me naked."



Then I heard a familiar voice. "There she is. There's my girl. And there's Andy. Trying to steal my girl, Andy?"



Lenny and I separated and just looked at each other. Her eyes were huge. "I take it you know him?" I asked her. She didn't answer.



Tyler Jones grabbed her, pulled her to him and kissed her. After the kiss, he held her at arms length. I could see her eyes and they were filled with panic and fear as she looked at me. 



"How soon can you get out of here, baby?" He said pulling her close. "I need some pussy."

