TITLE    : My Wife Fucked Who?
STORYID  : my-wife-fucked-who
SUMMARY  : And what will it cost?
AUTHOR   : Ephesus14@lit
DATE     : 2018-10-11
CATEGORY : loving-wives
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |loving wife|loving wifes|military wife|military wives|cheating wife|cheating wives|army wife|army wives|


Other than the fact that an American General was kidnapped in Italy, this is a work of fiction. For those of you who may remember the incident or have read about it, please don't tell me the story is anachronistic, or that General Officers don't really act this way, or cell phones didn't exist when it occurred. Just read it for what it is and enjoy it ... or not!



And just like real married life after a few years, there is not a shitload of sex.



*****



We had been stationed in Italy for three years and back in 'The States' for just a couple of weeks. I assumed she was having trouble adjusting to our move, but damn; enough is enough. We didn't have sex for over a month before we left Italy, and hadn't had it once since returning. 



One night in bed, I stuck my hand inside her pajama top and rolled a nipple between my fingers. "Matt, stop it. You're mauling me."



"Mauling you? We haven't had sex in over six weeks and I haven't seen you naked since then. What's wrong?"



"Nothing's wrong ... I just don't feel like it."



"Well, when are you going to feel like it?"



"I don't know."



I took my hand out of her pajama top and rolled onto my back. After a couple of minutes, she spoke.



"All right, damn it." She stood up, turned the light on, took her pajamas off and stood there. "Here. Is this what you wanted to see? I'm naked. Take a good look. Are you happy now?"



"No, I'm not happy. I want to have sex and my wife doesn't. Letting me see your body doesn't solve that. Should I now jack off and feel grateful to you for granting me the privilege of seeing you like that?



With an impatient shrug, she lay back down on the bed and spread her legs. "All right. You want sex, come on and get it over with."



"God, you really know how to make a guy feel good, don't you? I don't know what's happened to you, but I don't care for it. I miss my wife and I want her back. When you find out where she went let me know." I rolled over onto my left side. I sensed, rather than saw, her put her pajamas back on and leave the room. She didn't even bother to turn the light out when she left. 



And so it went. The quiet treatment; actually, more like shunning, began. After repeated efforts to engage her in conversation, I gave up.



Two days after my aborted attempt to have sex with my wife, I was sitting in my new office in The Pentagon. I was one of the action officers for anything dealing with Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape (SERE) of our troops. As part of my 'getting up to speed' in the job, I was reviewing some of the reports compiled on members of the Army who had been captured and later released, rescued, or escaped. 



I had a list of reports that I should read and was making my way through that list. I had just finished reading about an officer who had escaped from the Viet Cong after being imprisoned for several years. Very few American POW's during the Vietnam War managed to escape after being captured. 



I had finished reading that report and returned it. Then I signed for the next one. All of These reports were classified Top Secret and had to be signed for. The new report dealt with Major General (MG) Ralph P. Jemkins. MG Jemkins, had been the Deputy Commander of NATO's Mediterranean Forces and had been kidnapped by the Italian Red Brigade.



I was particularly interested in this case because I was in Italy when it occurred and had been assigned to his personal staff for a short time before I was moved to the headquarters planning staff. 



After I signed for the report, I returned to my section, stopped in the administration center and poured myself a cup of coffee. Then I went to my office, sat at my desk, and opened the file.



The kidnapping had happened less than a year ago and the file started with a bit of background on the General. He was a graduate of West Point, commissioned a Second Lieutenant, etc., etc., etc. His wife had died almost three years ago from cancer. At the time of his kidnapping, he had been in Italy for six months. 



Apparently, he had been under observation by The Red Brigade since his arrival. Then one evening they chose to strike. They knocked on the door of his apartment, pointed a gun at him, tied him up, blindfolded him, and hustled him out. MG Jemkins was entertaining a female guest at the time. The kidnappers tied her to a chair and gagged her but she was otherwise unharmed. She was still there the next morning when the maid arrived. Her name was Ona Louise Taylor, his niece. 



I closed the file, stood and walked to the administration center for another cup of coffee. I went back to my desk, sat and returned to the file.



The name was still there; Ona Louise Taylor. Not the most common name in the world and I only ever knew one person with it. My wife. Ona Louise Taylor; my wife's maiden name. 



When we married, she chose to keep and use both her maiden name and passport.



At the time I read the report, we had been married for just over three years. Almost immediately after our wedding we were sent to Italy so virtually all of our married life was spent there. We had been there for over two years and were looking forward to 'rotating' back to The States when the kidnapping occurred. 



When MG Jemkins was kidnapped and Ona Louise Taylor was found and questioned by the Italian authorities, she gave the name on her passport; and not her married name of Ona Louise Greig. Since she identified herself as a niece who was visiting her uncle the Italian authorities saw no need to bring the US Army in on their investigation, so she was released after a medical checkup and an interview. When the army got the report from the Italian authorities and saw her name, they did a cursory cross reference of the name to military personnel and, of course, not being in the military, her name wasn't there so no further action was taken on Ona Louise Taylor. 



Pretty sloppy investigative work? You bet your ass it was. It was the perfect storm for sloppiness and stupidity.



I read and re-read that part of the report. I sat there in a daze. I couldn't believe that my wife even knew the General, and knew him well enough to be in his apartment; and I certainly couldn't fathom the fact that she had been there during his kidnapping. As far as I could remember, she had never even met him. We had been invited to one party at his apartment, but she hadn't felt well so I went by myself.



I again looked at the date of the kidnapping and tried to remember any night around that time when Ona had been gone all night. There was only one time. She had gone to visit a friend and I had fallen asleep. When I woke in the morning, she was not home. I could not remember which friend she visited and neither she nor I had cell phones at the time; so the only thing I could do was wait for her. She finally arrived home in the afternoon and told me that her friend had gotten sick and stayed sick all night ... a 'girl thing' she told me. I was so relieved to see her that I didn't ask any more questions. Then she went to bed and slept for a very long time. 



I didn't find out about the kidnapping until I went to work the following Monday and certainly didn't put it together with Ona being gone overnight.



I continued reading the report.



Two months after he was kidnapped, he was rescued by an Italian Police SWAT team. As soon as he was rescued, he was hustled to Washington, DC to be debriefed ... hence this report. Soon after the Chief of Staff of the Army interviewed him and read the report, MG Ralph P. Jemkins retired.



The last section of the file was the question and answer interview of the General after his rescue. There were details about how the kidnapping actually occurred and what happened to him during his capture. This information was extremely important to me in my job, but it was the last few pages that hit me on a personal level. I found it difficult to wrap my mind around what I had already read about Ona's relationship with the General, but the worst was yet to come.



"Can you tell us how long your niece had been visiting you?"



"My niece?"



"Yes, sir. Ona Louise Taylor."



"She's not my niece."



"Excuse me, sir, but she told the Italian authorities she was."



"Well, she isn't."



"Then who is she?"



"Who will read this report."



"It will be classified Top Secret because of the Italian SWAT Team identification, tactics and methods, sir. So only those with a 'need to know' will see it."



"Her name is Ona Greig and she is the wife of one of my planning officers."



"She introduced herself as Ona Taylor."



"That's her maiden name."



"Why was she there? General Jemkins? Sir? We need to know why she was there."



"In my opinion her presence is not germane to your investigation."



"With all due respect, sir, it certainly is. As far as we know she could be part of the group that kidnapped you."



"That's bullshit. Her husband is a Captain in The United States Army. He has a Top Secret Security Clearance for Christ's sake."



"That may be, but what about her? General, I have to insist that you answer the question."



"She was there with my Aide."



"Why?"



"They were having an affair."



I stopped reading. Then I went back and read it again. It hadn't changed. My wife and the General's aide were having an affair?



"Where was your Aide at the time?"



"He had just left. Ona and I were talking about their relationship and she was getting ready to go home."



"Did her husband know."



"God no."



"How did you get involved? General Jemkins? How did you get involved?"



"It's a long story."



"We have time."



"Six years ago my daughter was married to an asshole. He physically abused her and cheated on her. She finally found the nerve to leave him and came to stay with my wife and me. After several months, she met a nice guy and they started seeing each other. After a while it became sexual. You have to know how uncomfortable I am talking about my daughter like this."



"Yes, sir. We understand."



"Anyway. She and this young man started sleeping together. The problem was she was still married to the asshole and my wife and I had a real problem with that. But he was stalling the divorce and our daughter was happy for the first time in a long time; so we just ignored the married bit. We liked seeing her happy and that made us happy. 



When I was assigned to Italy. My Aide, Captain Kenneth Materne, went with me. He had been my aide for a year. Normally, I prefer my Aide to be married, but Ken was single. We had been there for a couple of months and he told me he had a story to tell me. So I listened.



It seems that he had run in to an old girl friend of his at the PX (Post Exchange...the Army's answer to a department store). Actually, she was more than a girlfriend; they had been engaged. 



She and her husband had been in Italy over two years and were beginning to look forward to going home. Her husband, coincidently, was on my staff. 



Ken and Ona had met in college, dated, fell in love and, after graduation, got engaged. He was an only child and grew up in a single parent home; he never knew his father. His mother died just a couple of months before he graduated from college. He had been in ROTC in college and when he graduated, received his commission, went on active duty, and was stationed at Fort Lewis. Ona followed him out there and they lived together for over a year before he received orders for Afghanistan. They lived in Tacoma, and she stayed there to await his return."



What he told me was that he was sent to Afghanistan and was mistakenly listed as KIA (Killed In Action). In reality he was wounded, but obviously not killed. He was in a coma for a long time and unable to communicate with Ona. She basically lived on the money she received from him. That money stopped with his reported death. Since they were not married, she received no financial support from the Army, so couldn't afford to stay in their home and had to move out. 



Then she met Greig, who was also in the Army and stationed at Ft. Lewis, and very shortly afterward married him. She told me that she was in a daze the whole time, was grief stricken, and barely remembers anything between the time she heard that Materne had been killed and getting married to Greig. It was like her mind stopped functioning. Then one day it was like she woke up and realized that Ken wasn't coming back and that she was married so she decided to try to get on with her life. 



By the time Captain Materne returned to Ft. Lewis, Ona was gone. Greig had been transferred to Italy and she went with him. The whole thing was a major cluster fuck with enough miscommunication and misinformation to be shared all around.



When Ken and Ona saw each other at the PX in Italy, it was the first time since he left for Afghanistan so when he walked up to her, she saw him and screamed. 



So they started seeing each other again. I saw Ken happier than at any time since I had known him. Ken, and later Ona, told me that she was never really happy in her marriage and that marrying Greig while emotionally crippled was a huge mistake. Not that Greig was a bad guy; he just wasn't Ken Materne. I thought back to my daughter's experience and decided to tacitly condone their relationship."



That meant that Ona had been cheating on me for about four months at the time of the kidnapping. Materne left Italy immediately after the kidnapping so there was a five month break in their affair until we 'rotated' back to The States a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know if the affair had begun again, because I didn't know where Materne was stationed.



The interview continued.



"You realize of course, General, that under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, adultery is a Court Martial Offense."



"Yes."



"And you did nothing to stop it?"



"That is correct. As I said, I saw how happy he was; and when I met her, how happy she was and I remembered my daughter with her new guy so I let it pass. The hard part was seeing Greig every day. He is a very capable officer and a nice guy stuck in a marriage with a wife who loved someone else. I had him transferred to the planning staff and I seldom saw him after that. 



"I know it isn't for me to say, but that makes you look pretty bad. Being complicit in adultery is pretty serious."



"Don't you think I know that? I'm a General Officer for God's sake."



"Let's go back to the night you were kidnapped."



"Okay. She and Ken had been out to dinner and they stopped by to pick up some paperwork one of the staff would need early the next morning, which was a Saturday. He left to deliver it and Ona stayed to talk. We had discussed their plan before and basically it was to keep the 'status quo' for the time being. I suggested she return to The States and get a divorce so she and Ken could be married. But they chose to wait. She and Greig would be back in the states in a few months then she would get a divorce, return to Italy, and marry Ken.



I haven't seen either of them since my kidnapping. I understand he was sent to the Pentagon after I was kidnapped. The Greig's are still in Italy."



At this point, I was a zombie. I had never heard her mention Ken Materne, and I never knew she lived with anyone or had ever been engaged. I assumed she had other men, but we just never talked about it.



I knew Materne of course. Everyone knew the General's Aide. 



The general said Materne had been sent to the Pentagon. That was easy enough to check. I reached in my top right desk drawer and took out my copy of the Pentagon phone book. I opened it and there he was. Captain Kenneth Materne. The Pentagon is composed of five floors and five rings. It gave his telephone and room numbers; one floor up and one ring over. 



I wondered if Ona knew he was here. Stupid fucking question; of course she did. About three months ago, after we found out that we would be coming to the Pentagon, she tried to convince me she should come back to the States and start looking for a house for us, but I told her no, that we would do it together. She tried very hard to get me to allow her to come back early. We even had a couple of arguments about it. The kidnapping had obviously changed their plan and since Materne had returned early, she wanted to join him. Now they were, most assuredly, fucking again; and had been since our return. 



So what do I do now? I knew I was going to confront her, but how? And when? If she denies it, what proof do I have? A Top Secret report that I couldn't quote and nobody would be able to read? That wouldn't work. 



I closed the file and locked it in my safe. 



It's a long walk from the Mall entrance of the Pentagon to the North parking area. The drive to our apartment was relatively short. We hadn't been back long enough to buy a house ... and now it looked like we never would.



I wondered if she had filed for divorce yet, and when was I going to be served?



We had been out of the country for three years so I didn't know anybody I could ask for help and I had no contacts. I felt pretty alone and defenseless. I sat in my chair in our apartment until almost dark when I heard the door open. She saw me but never spoke.



The rest of the evening, I didn't even try to pretend things were normal and neither did she. There was no mention of dinner, no conversation, and certainly no affection. And when the lights went out, neither of us even said goodnight. Everything was surreal.



The next morning I was up and out earlier than normal. I was sitting outside the Judge Advocate General's office at Ft. Myer when they opened. I met with one of their lawyers.



"How do you know she's having an affair?" Asked the very young looking Army Lawyer after I told him why I was there.



"I read about it."



"You read about it?"



"Yes."



"Where?"



"I can't tell you."



"Why?"



"It's classified."



He had been taking notes, but he put his pen down, looked at me and smiled. "Okay. In the first place you know I can't represent you in a divorce action, I can only advise; but neither can any civilian attorney if you don't level with them."



"I understand. But I honestly can't tell you where I read it other than it was included in a classified report I read."



"Were you authorized to read this classified report?"



"Yes. I read it in the course of my job."



He grinned.



"I see. You just happened to be required to read, as part of your job, a classified report that said your wife was having an affair."



"Yes."



"How long have you been working in your office?"



"A couple of weeks."



"You wouldn't happen to have gone to Texas A &amp; M would you"



"No, why"



"Well, usually these stunts are pulled on Aggies. They're easy targets. If I were you, I wouldn't let my new office mates know that you took their little joke seriously. Thank you for coming in. Have a good day."



Just like that I was dismissed. I went to the Pentagon, parked and made the long walk to the Mall entrance and up the escalator to my office. I put my hat on the hat rack, opened my safe, got the file, went to my boss's office, and asked if he had a few minutes. He did and we talked. I explained what I read in the file and showed it to him.



He was almost as stunned as I was. He had, of course, read the report himself and was familiar with it but had no reason to remember any of the names of those involved; then to find out the wife of one of his action officers was involved was a shock. "What happens now?" He asked.



"I have no earthly idea. She and I have to talk about it, but I don't know how I'm going to broach it."



"My son is going through a divorce right now and I understand he has a pretty good attorney. If you would like, I can get his number for you; just in case."



I told him I would like it so he called his son and got it. He said. "If the attorney needs confirmation of your story, I will be happy to provide it, but under no circumstances can you use this file in any court proceedings. Do you understand?"

<hr pg="2" />"Yes, sir."



"And you can't use it as a reference when you talk to your wife, either. You understand that as well, don't you?"



"Yes, sir."



Take the time off you need. Just keep me informed." He gave me back the file.



I went back to my office, made the call to the attorney, received an appointment and opened the file; but immediately closed it. Nothing would have changed so there was no need to re-read it. I returned it to my safe.



Then I took the Pentagon phone book out of my desk, looked up the number and made my second call.



"Is Captain Materne available, please?"



"I'm sorry, but Captain Materne is out of the office today."



"Thank you. I'll get with him tomorrow." 



Had he been there, I obviously would have hung up before he got on the line. I just wanted to see if he was in.



One of the first things we did when we arrived from Italy was to get cell phones. I called Ona. The call went immediately to voicemail so I hung up.



My last call was to my career branch assignment office; it was also Ken Materne's branch.



"Assignments, Major Roach."



"Major Roach, this is Captain Matthew Greig."



"Yes, Captain Greig. What can I do for you?"



"When I was in Italy, I met Kenneth Materne and I have something for him. I know some folks don't want their personal information given out, but would it be possible to have his address?"



"Give me a sec and let me check."



It didn't take much more than a 'sec' and he was back on the line.



"No problem, Captain. He hasn't told us we can't share it, so here it is."



He gave it to me.



"Thank you, Major. Oh, just for my own information, what is the soonest I can get reassigned?"



He laughed. "Christ, Captain, you've just gotten here."



"Yeah, I know, but who knows what the future holds."



"Well, you're pretty much locked in for three years unless you volunteer for a hardship tour like Korea or a combat assignment like Afghanistan. Volunteer for one of those and you can leave pretty much when an opening pops up. Also, if you get promoted you might be able to move."



"Okay Major Roach. Appreciate the help."



"Anytime, Captain."



Two hours later, I was in the office of Attorney Leonard (Lenny) Skinner, who let me know in no uncertain terms that he had heard all of the name jokes multiple times and if I wanted him to represent me, I would refrain from repeating any of them. 



He also let me know that I couldn't file for divorce because there was a six month residency requirement. And the speed with which a divorce would be granted would be based primarily on the agreements husband and wife come to as far as support, money, and distribution of other assets. If they agree on all that shit ... er .. ah ... those details, it can happen fairly quickly. 



When he told me about the residency requirement, I assumed that was why Ona had not had me served already. He then recommended that I secure my finances. I had dealt only with the Pentagon Credit Union since I was commissioned so that was easy. One phone call and she was basically without access to funds (other than what she currently had in her possession) or use of credit cards effective immediately. 



I also cancelled her cell phone service. If she and Materne wanted to chat, let him buy her a phone.



We had sold her car in Italy and bought her a new one as soon as we got back in The States. Mine had been shipped back and it arrived before we did, so I was driving it. Her new car still had temporary tags on it and she had insisted it be registered in her name. I suppose she figured it would be better that way because she had planned to divorce me. However, the insurance was in my name and I cancelled it on her car. We had yet to make the first monthly payment; now I didn't have to worry about making any.



It was now mid-afternoon and just over 24 hours since I first read about her cheating. I left the office and made my way to my car and, for the first time, used the Maps feature on my new phone. I punched in the address I had been given. It took me to Fairfax, Virginia. As I drove by the house, I saw Ona's car in the driveway. I parked up the street, walked back to the house, opened a side gate and went into his backyard. I was on thin ice here legally but at that point, I didn't much care; I had to see for myself if she was cheating. 



I heard a toilet flush and I walked in the direction of the sound and passed a window. It was one of those rare, perfect days and the windows were open. I stopped, looked in, and listened. Materne was lying naked on the bed. I watched as Ona came out of the bathroom. She was naked. She squealed as she literally ran over to the bed and bounced on it. They were both laughing as he grabbed her by the waist, pulled her to him and kissed her. After the long kiss, she rolled off him and lay beside him. 



"God, Ken, this is so perfect. If we had known about that six month residency thing, I wouldn't have let Matt talk me out of coming back. I would have come back when you did, would have been divorced by now, and we would be married."



He started stroking her breast and drew circles with his middle finger around her nipple and I could see it starting to stiffen. She leaned over and kissed him again. Then she kissed his chin, both breasts and ran her tongue down the middle of his chest where she dug into his belly button with her tongue. I couldn't help but see his dick start to stiffen. Stiff nipples. Stiff dick. I almost gagged.



He moaned as her mouth reached his now fully erect dick and I could actually hear the slurping sound she made as sucked it in. Before it disappeared in her mouth, it looked to be about six inches long. If that was all he had, she sure wasn't fucking him for his size. 



"It doesn't get old. You sucking my dick. And the feeling never changes. Your mouth is perfect."



She lifted her mouth off him. "That's because it is perfect. It fits my mouth, my pussy, and my ass. There are times when I wish it could be in all three at the same time." And she sucked it in her mouth again ... only much slower this time ... and I could almost feel the sensation because she had done the same to me many times.



Her comment about having his dick in all three of her holes at the same time brought back a couple of memories. Twice while in the 'throes of passion' she had mentioned being curious about how it would feel to have more than one dick at the same time, but as far as I knew she had never experienced it.



Her head started bobbing up and down on his dick and he started moving his hips. As she lifted her head, he would lower his hips as far into the mattress as he could. Then when she lowered her head to suck him in, he would raise his hips off the bed thrusting into her mouth. This was accompanied by his moaning and her slurping until he stopped her. "No more. I want to cum in your pussy, not in your mouth. We can't make a baby if you swallow it all."



She lifted her head and looked at him. Then she smiled and straddled him. She reached down, took his dick, aimed it at her pussy and lowered herself. "Oh, God that feels perfect." Then she leaned down so that her face was almost touching his. "Give me our baby, Ken. Fuck me and give me our baby."



Then I watched as they fucked; her on top, then him on top, then him fucking her doggie. They went through all those positions in just a few minutes. A dozen or so thrusts in one position, another dozen in a different position, some strokes in yet a third position. Had it not been my wife being fucked, it would have been really boring porno. 



I couldn't watch anymore, so I made my way to my car and went back to the apartment. I had wanted to confirm that she was cheating and I did.



I was sitting on what passed for our apartment's balcony when she pulled up, parked, and came upstairs. 



Just like the night before, neither of us had anything to say to the other. 



The shunning continued and for the next two days we just stayed out of each other's way. We slept in the same bed, but it may as well have been separate planets.



Neither money, credit cards, nor her telephone had been mentioned, so she must have gas in her car and a few dollars in her purse and wouldn't yet know those were no longer available. But she had to know that her phone no longer worked. I'm sure they wouldn't have gone this long without talking to each other.



By Saturday morning, I had enough. She was in the bathroom taking a shower and getting dressed. For the first time ever, I looked in her purse. There were two phones. The one that I bought was turned off. I heard the bathroom door open so I dropped both phones back in the purse. She came into the living room a couple of minutes later, picked up her purse and started out the door.



"Where are you going?" I asked.



"To visit a friend."



"Tell him I said to kiss my ass."



She stopped and turned to face me.



"What did you say?"



"Kenneth Materne. Tell him I said he can kiss my ass; and you, too, by the way."



"How did you ...?" 



"I know you've been fucking him since before we left Italy." Her face got red and she walked out the door. I stood on the balcony and watched as she got in her car and talked on her phone. She talked for about ten minutes. Then she got out of the car and started back inside. As she walked, she looked up and saw me. Stopped. Turned around, got back in her car and left. 



I went to IHOP for breakfast and returned to the apartment to think about what to do with my life. Around six in the evening, Ona had not returned so I decided to go out for a drink or two. I opened the door and she was standing in the hallway with Materne as though they were building up their courage to come in and face me. The three of us just stared at each other. I was the first to speak.



"This is still our home. He is not welcome in it. If I catch him here, I can assure you that the next KIA report with his name on it will be accurate." 



I started down the stairs, turned and they were looking at me.



"That begins right now. You go in and do whatever you have to do; stay, pack, leave ... whatever; but if he WALKS in there he will be CARRIED out." I went to my car and waited. Less than a minute later he came down, got in his car and left. I went to the nearest bar. Two beers later, I went back to the apartment. I parked beside Ona's car. I looked inside and it was loaded with suitcases, boxes and bags. When I went in, Ona was sitting on the sofa.



I went to the kitchen for a beer; returned and sat in a chair. Picked up the remote and turned the TV on.



She spoke. "I've been in love with him for years. We were engaged to be married but I was told he was dead. We saw each other in Italy and found that our love was still strong."



There was absolutely nothing I could say, so I didn't.



I sensed her rising and moving. After seeing her car already packed, I knew what was coming so stared straight ahead.



"Goodbye, Matt." And she walked out.



I only moved from that chair to go to the bathroom and get more beer until late Sunday. On Monday morning, I took a shower, got dressed and went to work. My first stop was my boss's office. I brought him up to date. When I was finished, he leaned forward on his desk and spoke.



"So, I assume divorce is now in play." I nodded. "And you are thinking that you want to get away from it all and will ask to be transferred." I nodded again. "Well, I can't blame you. But I would like for you to consider another option. Instead of them controlling you, why don't you control them?"



"What do you mean?"



"How long has he has been in MDW (Military District of Washington)?"



"Just a few months."



"That means he might not be eligible for transfer. Is he married?"



"No, sir."



"That makes it a little easier. Would you happen to know his branch?"



"Yes, sir. The same as mine."



"You're shitting me? This is too good. That division chief is an old roommate of mine from West Point." He started laughing. "Where would you like the son of a bitch to go?"



I smiled. "How about Antarctica?"



"Nah. We don't have a job for him there...but we do have jobs for him in Afghanistan. Or absent that, we could have his ass court martialed for adultery under the UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice. The foundation of military law)."



"I think Afghanistan would be perfect."



"Sit tight, Captain Greig and let me show you how 'the good ole boy network operates'." He said as he reached for the phone.



Less than 30 minutes later orders were being cut sending Captain Kenneth Materne to Headquarters and Headquarters Company Combined Security Transition Command - Afghanistan, for further assignment as may be directed. He had to report within 15 days. No PCS (Permanent Change of Station) leave was authorized. That meant he had to work up until the day he processed out of MDW to go to Afghanistan.



I thanked my boss and returned to my office. Exactly one hour later, my phone rang. 



"Hello."



"How could you do it, Matt?" A sobbing Ona asked. 



"How could I do what?"



"You know what."



"What you are talking about?"



"Ken's reassignment."



"Oh? Has he been reassigned?"



"You know he has."



"How would I know that?"



"I don't know, but it was you ... I know it was you. They told him he only spent six months of his scheduled three year tour in Italy so they could send him back overseas."



"Listen, Ona. If he is being transferred, I'm sure it is for the good of the service and they have, so far at least, not asked my opinion or recommendations about how best to accomplish that. By the way, whose phone are you calling from?" She hung up on me.



I left work early and was at my apartment sipping on a beer, when I heard the front door open. I looked and it was Ona. She was as surprised as I was.



"What do you want?"



"I thought you would be working. I came to get more of my things."



I grinned to myself. "Go ahead."



I sat on the balcony with my beer to avoid any contact with her. She came out just a few seconds later.



"Where are my things?"



"Whatever you didn't take before went in the dumpster. Why don't you take a look, it might still be there."



She just stood there. Finally, she spoke.



"Matt, I just want to say ..."



I interrupted her "Absolutely nothing to me, thank you."



"But ..."



"Leave the door key and your phone on your way out."



"I still have a legal right to be here." She had obviously been talking to her attorney.



"You're right. Stay as long as you like and since we're still married, we'll share the bed and screw like we were lovers ... you know, like you and Materne did when I watched you last week."



"Watched us? What do you mean you watched us?"



"Exactly what I said. I watched you. And let me say that I've seen more enthusiastic fucking by snakes in the grass. Oh, sorry. That describes the two of you, doesn't it?"



"You're lying. There's no way you could have seen us."



"Ona, have you ever known me to lie?"



"There's a first time for everything."



"Okay. You came out of the bathroom naked then ran and jumped on the bed. Then before you gave him a blow job and fucked him you talked about the residency requirement for divorce. And you begged him to give you a baby. Need I say more?" 



"Oh, God." And she started out.



"Oh, Ona." She stopped, turned to look at me. "Do you think he will ever let you have dicks in all of your holes at the same time the way you told him you wanted?"



She immediately turned beet red. "Fuck you!"



"And I had nothing to do with his reassignment." I yelled after her. Okay, so I told that one little lie.



I heard the door slam shut then I watched her peel rubber as she left the apartment complex parking lot. 



And so it went. There was absolutely no communication between us for the next few months. None. No visits. No calls; not even after I had her car picked up and taken back to the dealer. It was registered in her name, but my name was on the finance contract so I was responsible for paying for it. Well, not in this lifetime!



The very day I had been back in the states for six months, I was served with divorce papers. Reason for the divorce: Mental Cruelty. I laughed my ass off and took them to Leonard Skinner. We counter filed on grounds of Adultery. 



It took only a week after that for us to come to terms for the divorce. She got half of the money we had accumulated during the marriage, which wasn't much, and no alimony. We both had relatively small investment portfolios when we got married, and we kept those. We just wanted it to be over. She dropped the mental cruelty charge and I did the same with adultery. We signed it and filed it. Now all we had to do was sit back and wait until the judge decided to sign it. 



I had come to really like both my job and my boss. He had shown support for me since 'day one'. He was also a very nice guy with a funny and personable wife. They enjoyed giving parties and did so at the drop of a hat. Most of their parties were huge affairs with lots of Colonels and Generals in attendance. Rarely were lowly Captains invited. Their Fourth of July bash was reportedly huge as was their Labor Day effort. 



They decided to have one they called 'The turkey's all gone and the fruitcake isn't here yet' party to which I was invited. Almost as soon as I went in, he said that he had someone he wanted me to meet and introduced me to Colonel Woodrow (Woody) Davis, Chief of Assignments Branch for Officers with my specialty. I knew the name but had never met him.



"Captain Greig, I want you to know that you are the cause of me having a pain in my ass for the last few months. A certain Captain currently serving in Afghanistan, is convinced that you manipulated the system and had him sent there. It got to the point that I talked to him on the phone and let him know that I was personally insulted that he would make such an accusation against my division and if he continued insulting my officers and me, he may never be transferred out of Afghanistan. We shouldn't hear from him again. If we do, his next assignment will be Officer in Charge of cleaning latrines on the DMZ."



I laughed out loud. "I apologize, Colonel Davis. I never meant to cause you any heartburn."



"You didn't. As I understand it, it was your boss's idea. And you never called me. He did. You just sat back and watched; which is what Captains are supposed to do. Anyway, Materne has been an ego maniac since General Jemkins chose him as his Aide. I'll never understand that decision; but apparently the general saw something in him that nobody else did."



"Apparently, my wife sees something in him as well."



"Yeah, well, there's no accounting for tastes."



Just then two women approached us.



"I'm sorry to interrupt Woody, but there is someone who thinks you need to circulate and at least say hello to some of your old friends."



"What?" He said with a smile. "Who is this unreasonable scalawag who wants me to socialize?"



She punched him on the arm and said. "You know very well who it is."



He turned to me. "Captain Matthew Greig, I'd like you to meet my scalawag ... I mean wife."



I laughed. "It is an honor, Mrs. Davis." We shook hands.



"And this is our niece, Janet. Janet, Captain Matthew Greig."



"Another honor." I said as I shook hands with a very attractive brunette. 



"Greig? Are you Norwegian, Captain?" She asked shaking my hand.



"Uh, no ma'am. I understand Greig is a variant of MacGregor, so is Scottish."



"Oh."



"Are you Norwegian?" I asked.



"Oh, no, but my favorite classical composer is Edvard Grieg and he is."



"Our names are spelled differently. Mine is spelled G-r-E-I-g. His is G-r-I-E-g." 



"Come on, Woody, let's circulate." Said Colonel Davis' scalawag and they wandered off.



I looked at Janet. I saw that her glass was almost empty. "May I get you another drink?"

<hr pg="3" />She looked at her glass. "Oh, yes, please." And we started walking toward the bar. Just as we got there, a Marlboro Man approached. For those of you who may not know, The Marlboro Man was used to advertise cigarettes when such advertising was permitted. He was always depicted as ruggedly handsome; with construction workers, firemen, and cowboys being popular images. Cowboys were the favorite. Anyway, this Marlboro Man came up to us.



"There you are. Are you ready to go?" He asked.



In an attempt at humor and before Janet could say anything I said, "Not yet. Maybe after another drink or two.



He ignored me and she laughed; and it was a beautiful sound. My bad joke was worth it just to hear her laugh.



"I suppose." She said and then looked at me. "Maybe some other time." And they walked off.



I saw the way he very possessively grabbed her arm and I thought to myself. 'Maybe some other time', my ass. Not if he has anything to do with it.



I stayed for a bit longer then headed home.



My phone rang just as I unlocked my door. "Hello."



"Hello, Matt."



"What do you want, Ona?"



"I want to know if you want some company. I'm lonely and thought you might be too"



"I'm not lonely enough to want to spend time with you. What's wrong? Do you miss 'snake in the grass'?"



"As a matter of fact, yes. But there are times when I miss you, too."



I took a deep breath. "To be honest, there are times when I miss you as well."



"Really?"



"Yes, Ona. Really. But then I go to the pistol range and work on improving my aim." I ended the call.



I had given thought, of course to my career and had several conversations with both my boss and my assignments branch, specifically Colonel Davis. After meeting him at the party, Colonel Davis seemed to take an interest in me and my career. The general consensus was that they could transfer me someplace else if I really wanted to, but I would be better served with three years in the Pentagon on my record.



I agreed with them. So since I would be staying in DC for about two and a half more years it was time to buy a house. 



I met my real estate agent at his office. We had looked at one house and were on our way to the second. 



"It's a three bedroom, three and a half bath house. The original owners had two daughters who convinced their parents that they each needed their own bathroom. And nobody wanted to share a bath with guests so they had a guest bath built. It's on over a half acre lot in a great school district. The current owner is in the Army, is stationed overseas, and scheduled to rotate back to Fort Lewis, Washington, in a couple of months so he's motivated to sell. He's only owned the house for about a year. Apparently, he's been injured and is recuperating in Germany. His fiancé is representing the house for him. She just left to visit him.



He turned into the driveway of a house I had seen before. When he opened the front door, the first thing I saw was a photo of Materne and Ona together. As I looked around, I saw other pictures of them. Some were obviously older and from their time together before she married me. I had never seen them, but then they could have belonged to him and not her. Up until now, I had dealt with Ona and Materne rather pragmatically; but being in the house my wife actually shared with another man, absolutely broke my heart and it was all I could do to not collapse in a sobbing heap. As I walked through with the agent, I saw her touches everywhere. The hardest part was the bedroom. That's where they slept and had sex. I had seen it before; from outside and through the open window. 



Granted, he had been gone for some time, but they had sex there before he left and unless the house sold before he got back, they would have more sex there when he got home. The fact that he was injured was a surprise.



I was shown the walk-in closet and when I saw her clothes, most of which I had seen her wear, hanging there, I had to get out of that room.



I managed to finish touring the house without showing the emotion which was roiling inside me. I held it together until I was in my own car. I made it two blocks before I had to pull over, stop, and break down. It took me a long time before I felt composed enough to drive. Then I went home where the last few months caught up with me and I was almost a basket case. I was ashamed that I was so fucking fragile. 



Fortunately, I had to work the next day and that took my mind off it for a few hours. I did receive an interesting phone call from Lenny Skinner. He, in turn, had received a call from Ona's attorney. She was in Germany. Materne was hurt when an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) exploded. He was medevaced to Germany for treatment."



"Yeah, I heard." Then I told him about going to their house.



"How did you handle that?"



"Like a little baby. I was pathetic. Thought it was behind me ... but I guess not."



At home that evening, I opened a beer and sat in front of the TV. About 7:30, my phone rang.



"Hello." My voice must have reflected my self-pitying attitude.



"Goodness. Did I catch you at a bad time?"



The voice was female, but I had no idea who it belonged to. "Oh, no. My mind was just somewhere else. Sorry."



"This is Janet Davis. We met at a party at your boss's house." 



I brightened considerably. "Oh, yes. How are you?"



"I'm fine, thank you. I know this might be a bit forward, but at the party we never had the chance to have that drink and I was wondering if that might still be a possibility."



To say I was shocked would be an understatement. "Uh, sure, I would love too. There are only two problems."



"And what would they be?"



"The first would be that I am married but separated and waiting for my divorce; and the second would be the Marlboro Man."



"I understand the first, but I'm just asking for you to go for a drink. Coffee would be acceptable. But I don't understand the second one. Who or what is the Marlboro Man?



I chuckled. "Sorry about that." Then I explained what and who he was and that the stereotypical belief was that women always preferred that type of man. And the way he grabbed her arm gave me the impression that she belonged to him and he dared anybody to dispute it.



Then she laughed. It was the second time I heard that sound and it was just as nice as the first. "Well, Matthew; or do you prefer Captain?"



"Oh, Matthew is fine. Matt is better."



"Okay, Matt. The Marlboro Man as you call him is a friend; and not a very close one at that. The only reason he was there is because my car wouldn't start and he is a mechanic. Turns out my battery was old and that cold spell caused it to fail. He volunteered to take me where I needed to go until it could be replaced; and where I needed to go was to Uncle Jimmy's party."



"Uncle Jimmy?"



"Your boss. Colonel James Reynolds. He's the one who gave me your phone number. He's not really my uncle, but I've known him most of my life, so that's what I call him."



"What about Colonel Davis? He said he was your uncle."



"He is."



"I'm confused."



I heard that melodious laughter again. "I can explain over coffee ... or whatever drink you prefer. How about it?"



"Where and when?"



"How about The Irish Pub on Erie Street in Alexandria at Seven tomorrow?"



"Works for me."



"Good. See you there."



I felt pretty good compared to the earlier part of the day.



I walked into the pub shortly before seven. She was sitting at the end of the bar talking to the bartender. I started walking toward her, she looked up, saw me coming and came to meet me. "Come on. There's a booth right here."



We had no sooner sat than a waitress appeared. "What can I get you?" She asked in a bright Irish lilt. 



"My usual, Kathleen, please."



"And I'll have a Guinness, please." I looked at Janet. "You must like this place. You looked like you knew the bartender, you know the waitress's name even though she doesn't have a name tag, and she knows your 'usual'." Her 'usual' turned out to be iced tea.



The laugh again. "I do like it here. And the people who work here. I should like it ... and them. I own the place."



"That would certainly explain your familiarity." I said and chuckled.



"You said you were married but separated. Care to talk about it?" So I explained my situation and then asked. "May I assume there is no Mr. Davis?"



"You may."



We sat there until midnight. The best thing about the evening, of course, was the time spent with Janet. I had not been one on one, so to speak, with a woman in many months; and the last time I got laid was in Italy. The second best thing of the evening was she would not allow me to pay for either the drinks or the fish and chips we had. 



Over the next month, I spent a lot of time with Janet. We ate in nice restaurants and went to a couple of plays. We even went to a symphony which played a piece by Grieg. 



The evenings and weekends I wasn't with her were spent thinking about her. I liked her. What I didn't do was make any effort to get her in bed. Not that I didn't want to, because I did; but I had condemned both Ona and Materne for cheating and there was no way I was going to be guilty of it. 



I spent Christmas Day in my apartment thinking about houses I had looked at. None of them 'tripped my trigger' enough to warrant a second look. Janet spent the day with her family.



She had things to do on the 27th and 28th. On December 29, I received a call from Lenny Skinner. 



"Well, Captain Greig, you are officially single. The judge wanted to clear her desk for the New Year so last night about 9:00, she made you a free man."



I sat quietly. He had obviously been through this numerous times, so knew enough to let me absorb what he told me. After a couple of minutes, he spoke again. "Are you ready for more?"



"What else is there?"



"You know I am friends with Ona's attorney."



"Yes."



"We tend to tell each other stuff that is non-case related. He told me That Ona is on her way home. Materne is being sent back to the states for more intensive care."



"That's too bad. I feel sorry for any soldier who is wounded in battle."



After he ended the call, I called my branch assignment manager.



"Major Roach, This is Captain Matthew Greig. Can you tell me anything about Captain Kenneth Materne?"



"Actually, I can. He was seriously wounded while driving in an unauthorized area. An IED exploded near him. He apparently felt he was above regulations, took a jeep, and went to a section of town Americans were ordered not to go. It was the second time he had done it."



"How serious are his wounds?"



"Mostly burns, but they are all over his body. They tell us that his face and hands are the most serious. He is on his way to Brooke (Brooke Army Medical Center, at Fort Sam Houston, Texas). They expect him to be there for quite a while. There is some discussion about not awarding him the Purple Heart and even Court Martialing him over it. He was really stupid. He was working in a safe, controlled environment when he chose to disobey orders."



"Why was he going there?"



"Nobody knows."



"I've heard that he will be stationed at Fort Lewis. Is that still happening?"



"Where did you hear that?"



"From the agent who is selling his house."



"That's the current plan, but now it depends on how long his recovery takes."



"Okay, Major. Thank you."



"Any time, Captain."



For about two minutes, I blamed myself for his condition; but then I thought, hell, no. I had nothing to do with him disobeying orders.



Janet and I weren't going to see each other for another day because of her work schedule. She filled in behind the bar when she had to and today she had to. I usually didn't bother her on the days she worked but today was going to be an exception because I wanted to tell her about my divorce. I also wanted to see if she might be interested in taking our relationship up a notch or two.



I had just parked in the lot behind the Pub and opened my door to get out when the employee's door at the back of the Pub opened and Janet walked out holding hands with the Marlboro Man. I watched as they got in the driver's side of his F-250. She went no further than the middle of the seat apparently so she could be close to him. I heard the growl of the truck's engine as he started it. Just before he roared off, they kissed. I guessed their friendship had gotten a lot closer in the past weeks.



My day just went from good to bad. 



I closed my door and followed the truck, which wasn't very difficult. It didn't go far. Just a few blocks down the same street was a garage. The truck pulled in to a parking space by a big rollup door. They got out and hand in hand went in through a door beside the rollup door. I pulled in next to his truck, got out and followed them. I got inside just in time to watch them go up some steps.



I was standing there looking up when a guy in mechanics coveralls approached me. Wiping his hands on a rag, he asked, "May I help you?"



"What? Oh, no. I just thought I saw someone I know go up those stairs."



"That's the owner's apartment. That was him and his newest girlfriend. That bastard has had more pairs of shoes under his bed than any man has a right to have."



"How often has this one had her shoes there?"



"Never saw her before."



"Well, power to him I guess." I got back in my car and went home. 



I spent the evening trying to figure out just what was wrong with me. Do women know just by looking at me that they can cheat on me? It was another long night.



I was sitting at my desk the next morning when my cell phone rang. It was Janet. I answered.



"Hi. Are we still on for tonight?" She asked.



"No"



Silence



"Is that it? Just no."



"Okay, how about 'I know we haven't talked about being exclusive so you are free to date/see/fuck anybody you want to. But I only date/see/fuck one person at a time and have no intention of being one of many.' Is that better?"



"What are you talking about?"



"I'm talking about you and the Marlboro Man ... you know ... the guy who's 'a friend; and not really a close one at that'. If the kiss I saw you give him yesterday didn't belie that statement, watching you go up the steps to his apartment certainly did."



"Matt ... I .."



"Goodbye, Janet." I ended the call and put the phone on my desk. It rang almost immediately. I ignored it and went back to work. Sometime later, I looked at the phone and saw that a voicemail had been left. I figured I would see what she had to say.



"Hi, Matt. It's me. Ona. I've just returned from Germany and heard that our divorce is final. I would really like to talk with you if you will let me. Please?"



Can my day get any fucking worse?



It was just about to!



The phone rang again. I looked and this time it was Janet. I let it go to voicemail then listened to it. "You are not 'one of many'. I had no one for a long time. Then I met him and then you. You said you would never cheat even though your wife did, and I had not met anyone I felt close enough to want to have sex with in a long time; all of a sudden, there were two of you. He asked and I accepted. It could just as easily have been you. It still can be you if you want it to be."



No thank you, I thought to myself. Then, almost immediately, thought; why not? It's been a very long time, I'm really horny, no longer married, and a very pretty woman has just told me I could have sex with her. I picked up my phone and was ready to call her back ... and I couldn't. Why? Pride? That's part of it. Stupidity? Absolutely! Jealousy? I'm sure there's a bit of that involved as well. Pathetic? Without a doubt! Feeling sorry for myself? That ,too. God, what a fucking mess. I sat there moping for another hour and went home. Tomorrow and New Year's Eve, I was scheduled to be off; likewise New Year's day, which was on Friday and I had the weekend off so in total, I had the next five days off. Fuck it, I'm going to Disneyland!



That was just a figure of speech. I wasn't really going to Disneyland ... 'LaLa land' was more likely my destination.



There is a good Japanese restaurant not far from my apartment, so that evening I decided to walk there for dinner. I had just been seated, and was looking forward to some Yakiniku when someone approached my booth. I thought it was the waitress, but when I looked up saw it was Ona.



"I was going to your apartment when I saw you leaving so I followed you."



I tried to get up to leave but she was blocking me.



"Please, Matt. Just listen to me. Please?"



I indicated she should sit across from me.



She took off her coat and gloves and sat down. "Ken was in an accident and was injured."



"I heard."



"I just came back from seeing him in Germany. His injuries are serious. Three of his fingers were burned off and he will be disfigured for the rest of his life."



"Ona, I really don't give a shit about that snake. I feel badly that he was injured, just as I would with any soldier, but I do not intend to sit here and listen to my ex-wife talk about her next husband's injuries. So if that's all you want to talk about, one of us is going to leave."



The waitress had approached and was waiting for a break so she could take orders. I gave her mine and told her. "The lady won't be dining." She left.



"What are you doing for New Year's Eve?" Ona asked.



I looked at her. "The last time I got laid was in Italy. My wife at the time had just come from fucking her lover and she gave me sloppy seconds. So for New Year's Eve, I'm going to find another whore and fuck her." 



"I never gave you sloppy seconds and I'm not a whore."



"No? What are you then? A slut? Let's look at it. Whore's get paid; slut's don't. So we know you were a slut when we were married because you were fucking him and he didn't pay you. But after you started living with him the only income you had was from him ... a man not your husband ... so that makes you a whore. So you are both a whore and a slut. Your religious parents must be very proud of you. And as far as you not giving me sloppy seconds can you honestly tell me that in all those months you never came home and fucked me right after fucking him?"



She didn't say anything, so I spoke. "No, I didn't think you could. So everything I just said is true."



We sat in silence until the waitress brought my food. Ona looked at me. "Are you going to share?"



"Not with you." I picked up my chopsticks and started eating.



"Are you really going to find a whore?"



"Probably."



More silence.



"I know where you can find one."



"So do I; sitting across from me."



"Yes, she is and you can have her for New Year's Eve if you want. Although since you won't have to pay her I guess for the night she'd be a slut."



I thought back to the last time I had seen her naked and I wanted to have sex. She had begrudgingly taken off her pajamas so I could see her naked body; then had plopped her ass on the bed, spread her legs and said something to the effect of, 'alright, here it is, come get your rocks off and leave me alone'. I wanted no part of her or her body.



"I don't need a sympathy fuck." I said and kept eating.



"Maybe I do."



I slowly put my chopsticks on my plate, put my forearms on the table, looked directly at her and spoke. "I wouldn't fuck you if you had the last pussy on earth." 



I took my arms off the table, picked up my chopsticks and resumed eating. I never watched her get up and walk out of the restaurant. I thoroughly enjoyed my Yakiniku. I even enjoyed the walk home in the cold.



The next day was New Year's Eve. I started thinking about what, if anything, I was going to do that night. My social life had sucked since returning from Italy. I had not made many friends, and certainly no one close enough that I could call on such short notice. So if I did anything I would be doing it alone. After my meeting with Ona last night, my catharsis was finally well on its way. Now all I had to do was purge Janet. She had gotten to me very quickly.

<hr pg="4" />I was going to go out, find a place to have a few drinks, listen to some music, and maybe have a dance or two. Maybe even get lucky.



I drove to the end of the parking lot. If I turn right, I go in the direction of Janet's Pub; so I turned left. Less than half a mile down the street was a bar I had driven by many times and never paid any attention to. I decided to give it a try. Finding a place to park proved difficult. I was ready to give up and find someplace else to go when I saw someone pulling out just a couple of cars from the front door. I did a quick u-turn and was halfway in the space when he was halfway out.



I went inside. It was big, clean, packed, and didn't have a cover charge. I took the last seat at the bar and ordered my first drink. As the night progressed, I relaxed and enjoyed myself. The crowd was a normal New Year's Eve crowd. Most were couples or groups of couples, two tables with just females and two with just males. The band played current, popular music at a volume which allowed conversation. Most people danced. I danced with several of the women. Three of them rubbed up against me ... or was it me rubbing against them? After three drinks, it didn't seem to matter much who was rubbing who, but I certainly enjoyed the feel of a woman's breasts crushing into my chest regardless of whose idea it was. 



Around 10:00, I was dancing with a redhead who seemed to like being close to me, when we were bumped by another dancing couple. I looked and it was Marlboro Man, but his dancing partner was not Janet. He had no clue who I was. I saw him several times during the rest of the evening and he was always with the same woman. I assumed she would have her shoes under his bed later. I also saw a waitress I thought looked familiar, but I couldn't be positive.



Shortly before midnight, I was looking at the tables of women and trying to decide which one I wanted to have in my arms at the stroke of twelve. I made my choice and worked my way to her. At least one other guy was headed in her direction, but I beat him. She and I were dancing when they stopped the music for the New Year countdown, Auld Lang Syne, and, of course, the kiss. With the kiss, I had an immediate hard on. My partner obviously felt it because she pushed herself against me and started rubbing her lower body against mine. I felt like a teenager! But it didn't last. Shortly after that, her friends decided it was time to go and she explained that the four of them had some sort of pact about arriving together and leaving together. I did get her phone number and name, however.



After she left, I finished my drink and headed out the door. I had just started to pull my car away from the curb when I heard the screech of brakes. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and looking up at a very attractive woman.



"Where am I and what are you doing here?" I asked Janet. 



She put her finger on my lips. "Shhh. Don't talk. Doctor, he's awake."



My eyes moved around the room but they always came back to her. The doctor came in and started shining lights in my eyes, in my ears and up my nose. I tried to lift my left arm, but it seemed heavy. I looked and saw that it was in a cast.



"Sorry." Said the doctor. "Should have warned you about that."



"Can somebody tell me what's going on?"



"He's yours." Again, the doctor spoke to Janet. "You can tell him."



"What does he mean, I'm yours?"



Her finger went back on my lips. "How many times do I have to tell you? Shhh. Last night you had just left the bar and were pulling out of your parking slot when a drunk driver plowed into you. Your left arm is broken and you're bruised pretty badly, but you'll survive."



"Why are you here?"



"When you were hit, someone ran into the bar and yelled for a doctor or nurse. Kathleen's husband is an EMT and he ran out to see what he could do."



"Who's Kathleen?"



"One of the waitresses."



"Oh, I remember now. I saw her there. She used to work for you." At that point, the doctor and nurse left the room.



"She still works for me."



"Why was she working at that bar?"



"Because they were shorthanded so I sent her over there from the Pub. She went out and saw who you were and called me."



I just looked up at her and raised my eyebrow.



"I also own that bar."



"How many bars do you own?"



"Just the two." So of all the bars and clubs in the city, I picked the only other one she owns to spend New Year's Eve in. Compute the odds on that, if you can.



"What did he mean, I'm yours?"



"Matt, you need to rest."



"What did he mean, I'm yours?"



"All right. After Kathleen called, I came over here. It was late and they only let family members in after hours, so I told them I was your sister."



I looked at her. "Thank you. And thank Kathleen and her husband. I'll be fine now so you don't have to stay."



"I'll just hang around for a bit."



"I don't need you." I turned my head away from her. When I turned back, she was gone. They kept me in the hospital that day and released me the next. I got dressed with a lot of effort and emptied my little bag of personal items; wallet, watch, comb, etc. and put them in my pockets. I tried to put my watch on my wrist, but couldn't manage it. My phone was missing however; as were my keys. I asked the nurse to call a cab for me but I was told that there were usually a couple of them sitting at the entrance. The hospital staff was required to put me in a wheel chair and wheel me to the entrance even though I was perfectly capable of walking. 



When we got there, Janet was there and had her car door open for me. "That's okay. I'll take a cab."



"And how will you get in your house?" She said as she dangled my keys from her hand.



"Where did you get those and why do you have them?"



"They were in your car and I figured you might need them. The same with this." She pulled my phone from her car. "Come on. I will get you home and then leave."



I hesitantly got in her car. I had never ridden in a Jaguar. Had I not been so tense, the ride might have been enjoyable.



"Your car was pretty badly damaged so it was towed to the police lot. You can make arrangements for it on Monday. If you want a rental while yours is being repaired, you might want to pick it up today."



The rest of the ride was in silence. When we got to my place, she handed me my keys and stayed in the car while I got out. "Thank you. And thanks for the ride." I said and walked away. I was just opening my door when she tapped on my shoulder.



"You forgot this." She handed me my phone.



"Thank you, again."



"If you want a ride to pick up a rental, let me know." I nodded at her and started inside. I had no idea why I was being so stubborn. I missed this woman, and I was letting her walk away.



"Hey." I heard her say. I turned to look at her. "Going with him was the biggest mistake I ever made." She started to walk away again.



"Hey." I almost yelled at her. She stopped and I went to her; then spoke. "My Attorney told me my divorce was final and I was single again. I wanted to tell you in person and then ask you if you would consider being my girlfriend, with all that implied. I know it may have been a bit 'high schoolish', but that's the way I am. I was hoping that you would see us as a couple the way I did; exclusive, loyal, and faithful"



I paused, looked at her, saw that she was looking at me, then I continued. "I got to the Pub and had started inside, when the two of you came out and got in his truck. That's when I saw you kiss him. When you left, I followed you, which I know I had no right to do, and I saw you go up those stairs. I was crushed. I had just learned that I was divorced from a cheating wife, and the woman I wanted to have a relationship with appeared to be cheating as well. I know, I know, you weren't cheating because we weren't involved."



"Matt, I ..."



"Let me finish. It wasn't until just now that I realized that I never once gave you any reason to believe that I wanted our relationship to be more than friendship. I never held your hand. I never kissed you. We didn't do any of those things, because I was afraid of two things; I didn't want anybody in the Army to even get a whiff that I might be doing something wrong while I was still married; but even more important than that was you. I didn't want you to have any reason to believe, or even think, that I would ever, in your wildest dreams, cheat on you. I thought that if I did anything that was even remotely considered by you to be 'off color' while I was still married that you would never completely trust me; and I wanted you to be able to.



So you had every right to walk up those, or any other, stairs with anybody you wanted to; and you still do."



"Are you finished?" She asked.



"Yes."



"Okay. Firstly, congratulations on your divorce. Secondly, I will pay for my walk 'up those stairs' for the rest of my life. It was a miserable experience and I have never felt so used and cheap as I did that day."



She continued. "All of the things you said are true, but that works both ways. I never really gave you any indication that I wanted more than friendship. I hadn't had a serious relationship in a long time. The two bars have taken my time, my energy, and my emotion; but all of a sudden this burly, handsome cowboy comes to my rescue when my battery died. Then almost immediately after that, I'm at a party and another handsome man offers to get me a drink. All of a sudden, I have an embarrassment of riches, so to speak. My problem was I knew almost immediately that the cowboy wanted in my pants ... and to be perfectly honest; at first, I wanted him in them; but I also knew that I wanted the other man as well.



"Janet..."



"Shhh. You told me to let you finish, so now it's my turn." A slight pause. "My other problem was the other man let me know in no uncertain terms that as long as he was married, nothing could come of our relationship. So there I was; stuck between one man who, I knew, wanted me and another man who, if he did want me, made no effort to show it. So I was screwed; but not in the physical sense. New Year's Eve was coming and I knew I was going to be busy, and the more I thought about sex, the more I wanted it. The day he came to the Pub, he told me he was off for the afternoon and asked if I wanted him to fuck my brains out. Without thinking, I took his hand and said, 'let's go'.



When we got to his apartment, he took his clothes off, lay on the bed, took hold of his dick and started stroking it. 'Come on, get naked, and let's do this.' He said like he was doing me a favor ... which, I guess in a way, he was. I resented his attitude and felt cheap ... but my pussy betrayed me and was soaking wet, so I stripped and got on the bed. No foreplay; he just rolled over on top of me and stuck it in. Just 'wham bam, thank you, ma'am' and it was over. Less than an hour after he walked into the Pub, he dropped me back there and left. I went home and got drunk for the first time since I was a freshman in College. 



When I woke up the next morning, I took a shower and called you. I can't tell you how much I was looking forward to seeing you that evening. Then you told me that you had seen us and I was devastated. It was a huge mistake, and it was known by the one person I most wanted not to know about it. I haven't seen him since and I don't want to. He got what he wanted and moved on.



Then on New Year's Eve Kathleen called me and you know the rest."



It was quiet for a long time before I spoke. We were standing outside and it was cold, but I hadn't noticed it until now. I put my hand under her chin, lifted her head and looked in her eyes. 



"What happens if some other man comes up to you some time in the future and asks you if you want him to fuck your brains out? Are you going to go with him? "



She lowered her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. I sighed.



"Thank you for your honesty." She looked at me, sighed, and walked away. 



As I watched her, it started to snow and I shivered. I went inside, found the number of a cab company and got a ride to Hertz.



The rest of the winter took forever. 



It seemed that I missed Janet more than I ever missed Ona. More than once, I thought of calling her, but I was afraid to. Afraid that if we got close some 'smooth talker' would slide in and take her away. I felt that if that happened neither my ego nor my fractured soul would recover.



The cast on my arm had been a major pain in the ass, but I managed and was a happy camper the day it was cut off.



I never did buy a house and it was getting more difficult to want to stay in Washington, regardless of the advice of Colonels Reynolds and Davis.



I heard that the Army had chosen to not Court Martial Materne, but he never received a Purple Heart for being wounded, either. 



He and Ona were married while he was still in hospital. Their house sold and she moved to Texas to be with him. I don't know how badly disfigured he was, but I grudgingly gave her credit for staying with him.



In February, the list for promotion to the rank of Major was published and my name was on it. I would ask for a transfer as soon as I was promoted. Ken Materne's name was not on the list. 



My social life still sucked. I did use the phone number I had gotten on New Year's Eve, however. She was an administrative assistant to a lobbyist who had no objection when, on our third date, I stuck my hand inside her blouse to play with her rather substantial breasts. Not only did she have no objection, but she invited me to her apartment where she tried real hard to fuck me senseless. I had forgotten how good it felt to have a pussy wrapped around my dick. I liked it so much I went back to her for more. Three times I went back. I really liked fucking her ... but at that point anything with a hole would have felt good! 



I missed Janet.



I couldn't very well avoid the bar where I had my accident because I drove by it every day. Janet's car was there several times in the evening and I wanted to stop, but my pride wouldn't let me. I only drove by the Pub once and when I did, her Jaguar was parked out front. 



Washington in the Spring is beautiful and you can smell meat being burned on backyard grills everywhere. 



My boss, Colonel Reynolds, was being transferred to Hawaii and was giving a 'Goodbye Pentagon' barbeque. I had just taken a bite of my hotdog when I saw Janet. It looked like she may have gained a pound or two, but still looked very nice.



I took another bite of my hotdog and headed for the patio doors to go through the house and out the front door to my car. As I approached the doors, I could see, reflected in their glass, Janet watching me leave. I reached the door and started to open it but changed my mind. 



I turned and looked at her, took yet another bite of the hotdog, and slowly walked toward her not having any idea what I was going to do or say, but realizing that I wanted to say or do something ... anything! I stopped when I got close to her. I wrapped the unwanted rest of the hotdog in my napkin and tossed it on a nearby table. She spoke first.



"How's the arm?"



"It's fine. How's business?"



"Not bad. St. Patrick's day was my best ever."



"Good. Have you ever been in Ireland for St. Patrick's day?"



"No, but I'd like to go some year."



"Me, too. I bet it's a zoo. Sorta like New Orleans at Mardi Gras."



"Now that is a zoo. I did that once with my sister and her husband but never again."



We just looked at each other for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, a man came up to her and put his arm around her. Oh, fuck I thought; here we go again. But it made perfect sense. Why wouldn't she have a date? I spoke. "Well, it seems like you're busy. It was nice to see you again."



"It was nice to see you, too, Matt. But before you go, I'd like for you to meet my brother-in-law, Brent ... and here's my sister, Brenda." She said as a woman who could almost pass for her twin came up to us. "Brenda and Brent Hebert. (She pronounced it Abear so I assumed he was from Cajun country.) This is Matt Greig." Brent and I shook hands.



"So you're Matt, huh?" Asked Brenda.



"Guilty as charged."



She came over to me, took my hand, shook it and then leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. "You are probably the dumbest son of a bitch in the country ... just sayin'. Come on, Brent. Let's get one of Uncle Jimmy's hamburger's." She took his hand and dragged him off. He just looked back and waved.



"What did she say?" Asked Janet.



"I think she may have just told the truth."



"About what?"



I changed the subject. "Listen, I know I don't have any right to ask, but would you consider having dinner with me some time."



She didn't hesitate. "When?"



"Tonight?"



"Okay. What time?"



"Uh, six?"



"That would be fine."



"Great. See you at six."



"Matt?"



"Yes."



"See me where at six?"



"Oh. Sorry. I'll pick you up at your place. Okay?" She smiled and nodded.



I went home and got in the shower. My emotions were running the gamut from very happy to very unsure. I wanted tonight to be perfect. At six, I rang her doorbell. When she opened the door, I smelled the most sensual perfume in the history of the world and it had wrapped itself around the most perfect vision of loveliness imaginable ... and she smiled. 



I was King Shit for the rest of the evening. At the restaurant, every head in the place turned when she walked by; and later, when we danced, I could see the envy in the eyes of everyone who was lucky enough to watch her move that perfect body across the floor. 



All too soon, the evening had to end. We rode in silence as I took her home. She unlocked the front door, reached inside and disarmed her security system, then turned to me. "You asked me a question a few months ago. I couldn't answer it then ... I'll answer it as honestly as I can now; when the 'Marlboro Man' asked me to go with him, I was vulnerable and feeling sorry for myself. I would like to think that having gone through that experience that now I have the presence of mind to recognize a situation like that so that it will never happen again; but I know the Military. Some day you will be sent off for a long time. I will begin to miss you and start feeling sorry for myself again. I just don't know if I can trust myself to be able to say no if the situation would ever come up and I have no idea how you could ever trust me." 



She kissed me on the cheek, went in and closed the door. I stood there looking at the door. I'm not sure how long I stood there before I went home.



The next day was Sunday. Fortunately there were still a few telephone books around. Bright and early in the morning I looked up the name Brent Hebert. There were three listings. I called the first and was told the number had been disconnected. The second said that service had been discontinued. I assumed that both now relied solely on cell phones for telephone service. I called the third. It rang, so there were some landlines still working. A female answered.



"Hello."



"Is this Brenda Hebert?"



"Who wants to know?"



"My name is Matt Greig. I met ..."



"I remember. You're the dumb ass who broke my sister's heart. But I understand that you had a date with her last night so maybe you're wising up. How did it go?"



"I'd like to talk to you about that. Do you have time for coffee?"



"Uh, oh. Didn't go so well, huh? Okay. Why don't you come over here and we'll chat."



She gave me the address and thirty minutes later, I hesitated before pulling in her driveway. I double-checked the address to be sure and finally pulled in. I got out and was looking next door at Janet's house as I rang the bell.



"Hello, Matt. Come in." Said Brent. "Brenda will be right here."



When she walked in, she looked more like Janet than she did when I met her yesterday.

<hr pg="5" />"Have a seat, Matt. And tell me about it."



So I did.



"Jesus Christ. I thought you were dumb, but she must be dumber." Then she pulled out her cellphone, hit a number and spoke. "Do you have time to come over here? We have something to discuss."



For five minutes we just sat there. Then Janet walked in.



She stopped walking when she saw me. "What are you doing here?"



"I came for some advice from your sister."



"Brenda? She's as dumb as a box of rocks. Why are you asking her for advice?"



Before I could answer, Brenda spoke. "Me? You're the one who's shooting herself in the foot here. Why in the world would you put such a huge barrier between you and him? You plant doubts with hypothetical situations and poor Matt doesn't have any recourse. Why would you do that?"



"He asked a question and I just wanted to be honest."



"Wait a minute." I almost yelled. "It was a stupid question and I never should have asked it." I took Janet's hand. "Come with me."



"Where are we ...?"



"Shhh." I told her.



We walked next door. I had been in her house, but never in the bedroom so I led her in the direction I thought it should be; and I was right. In the bedroom, I turned her to face me and started to undress her. I had two of the buttons on her blouse unbuttoned before she finally got around to asking. "Do you mind telling me what are you're doing?"



"I'm going to make love with you. Then it's ME who is going to fuck your brains out and unless I die or am disabled I'm the only man who will ever do either of those things to you again. Understand?" 



She smiled broadly, reached for both of my hands and put them on her breasts. "Shouldn't you finish with the buttons?"

