Three Tuesdays

"Then one day I was doing bench presses. The place was pretty empty, no one around, and he came and stood just behind my head, as if to spot me. As I looked up there were his shorts, right above my head—and there was that monstrous package, bulging out like crazy! I couldn't believe how big and thick it looked in his shorts!

"He just smiled down at me, knowing what I was looking at. I almost dropped the bar on my chest, but I managed to finish my reps. As I put the bar back up on the rack, he took my hand off the bar and slid it gently down over his shorts. His cock felt as enormous as it looked, and it was hard as a rock!

"I could feel myself blush—I started to pull my hand away, but he kept holding it, kept just rubbing it up and down his cock. It was like I was hypnotized. I couldn't stop, I just kept looking up at him and stroking him.

"Then after a couple of minutes he gently pulled me to my feet, looked around to see no one was there, and led me by the hand into his office. I wasn't thinking, I was kind of dazed. I remember my panties were wet.

"He locked the door behind us, sat me down in a chair, and without a word pulled off his shorts and stood in front of me, letting me gaze at that monster cock. You know, Will is about six inches or so, not the biggest I've ever had but far from the smallest. But Marion's is just in another league. It's so long, and twice as thick as any other cock I've ever seen.

"I swear I wasn't thinking at all. I looked at it; then after a while I took it in my hands and started stroking it, watching his face as he smiled at me. Then God help me, I leaned forward and started sucking him! I could barely get it into my mouth, but I worked at it until I had about half of him—that was as far as I could go.

"After a few minutes he pulled out, stood me up, gently took my shorts and T-shirt off me, and laid me down on his couch. Then he climbed on me and started rubbing that monster all around my pussy lips. I was amazed at how soaking wet I was, even without being touched. When he started easing into me, I went nuts.

"I couldn't believe how good it felt! I was groaning and shaking, and by the time he'd gotten it all the way inside me I was ready to cum. All it took was 3-4 strokes and I was trembling and gasping, the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"Of course, that didn't stop Marion. He just kept stroking in and out of me, steadily, and I came and came. By the end I was screaming, and he had to cover my mouth with his hand! By the time he finished I was beside myself—exhausted, and totally fucked-out."

"Wow!" said Shelley, and it sounded like she really meant it. "That sounds unbelievable—and I assume you've kept seeing him?"

"Well, that day I just drifted out of his office and into the shower, all dreamy and weak in the knees. I was wiped out, you know? Then by the time I cleaned up and got home the guilt was killing me. I couldn't believe I had cheated on Will! And I was terrified—I just KNEW he'd see it in my eyes as soon as he got home.

"But, amazingly enough, he didn't. That night was normal, he didn't suspect a thing. He even wanted to make love, but I was afraid he'd feel how loose I was so I told him I was too tired. But the next night I really gave him the full treatment—we did it until he couldn't get it up anymore.

"For two weeks I stayed away from the gym—I just knew I couldn't be anywhere near Marion without being tempted again. Finally, I told myself it had been a one-time thing: I was a grown woman, with a wonderful husband, and I could resist him. So I started going back.

"And the first couple of times it was fine. Marion winked at me and flirted a little, but he left me alone. And I thought, 'this is OK, I'm over this', and I relaxed my guard a little. Then about a week after that, he caught me again at the bench, and the room was empty, and he got my hand on his dick . . .

"And in no time you were back in his office," Shelley finished her sentence.

"And it was even better," Anne said, kind of dreamily.

"I can't really describe it, Shelley. I love sex with Will—he's big enough to fill me up just right, and we always satisfy each other. I'd never even been tempted to fool around before. There's a guy in my office named Alex, incredibly cute and a total flirt. He had a lot of success with the other girls, but he never got anywhere with me. I just wasn't interested.

"But with Marion it was like... like I'd never even been fucked before. When he's all the way inside me it feels like he's gonna pop out my throat! And the thickness—that's what does it. That cock just stretches out my lips—I can't believe I'm telling you this!" she said, giggling.

"But it stretches me out, and pulls my clit down, so that it gets rubbed and stimulated with every stroke. It's just unbelievable—the sensation is so intense! Every time we do it I come again and again and again...

"It's not even that there's anything special about Marion's technique. He's just a steady, in-and-out guy, no imagination or passion. I'm not the least bit interested in him, as a person or a lover or anything. But that dick of his is just God's gift!"

She laughed again, and Shelley joined her. I listened to the two of them and felt the anger coursing in my veins.

I sat through the rest of the tape, but there wasn't much more. Once he'd fucked her a second time, Anne gave up all attempts to resist. She'd been doing him 2-3 times a week for nearly a month, and there was no sign she was ready to stop. In fact, she said that she'd been enjoying sex with me more lately as well, perhaps because her secret was kind of a turn-on.

It was clear that her "BCF" had overcome whatever guilt she might be feeling about betraying me. Me, the love of her life, her husband of seven years, the man who was completely devoted to her, and who still remembered what "forsaking all others" was supposed to mean....

Part Two: Dealing with It

It took a while to think through my plans, and it was 2:30 am by the time I went to sleep in the guest room. I was done seeing Anne, sleeping next to her, or even talking to her. I slipped into the bedroom and got clothes for the next day without waking her.

At 6:30 am I was up and out the door. I left the briefest, coldest note I could without tipping Anne off (say, by calling her "You adulterous bitch"):

"Have an early meeting—sorry, forgot to mention it last night— W"

At the office I made two copies of the tape, and by 8:30 I was on the phone. My best friend from college worked at a law firm downtown. "Hey Eddie, it's Will. I have a big favor to ask. Could you get me an hour this morning with the meanest, most bloodthirsty divorce lawyer in your firm?"

There was a silence, and then he said, "oh my God, Will—not you and Anne? I'm so sorry..."

We talked a little longer, and at precisely 11:15 Eddie showed me into the office of Margaret Adamson, a lead partner in his firm. Eddie had told me she was absolutely terrifying—"when she swims in the ocean, the sharks get out of the way" is how he put it—and Margaret's look and handshake confirmed that she meant business. I was already glad she'd be my attorney and not Anne's!

I played her and Eddie Anne's part of the tape; after hearing the first few moments Margaret picked up her phone, said "hold my calls", and we listened to the rest. When it was over we sat in silence for a minute; then she just said, "OK—what do you want?"

"I want to divorce her—for adultery, none of this "irreconcilable differences" bullshit. I'll be reasonable about our savings, but I want the house. And she has to take her maiden name back—she doesn't deserve to be Mrs. Will Harris any longer."

Margaret nodded, looking at me intently. Then she said, "excuse me, Will. Can you let me and Eddie knock the legal details of this around for a few minutes?"

In no more than five minutes I was back in her office, and she was raring to go.

"The divorce is easy, and there's no way she will refuse your terms. Now, you should know that the tape will be inadmissable since she didn't know about it. Oh, by the way, will the other person—your sister-in-law, you said?—testify that it's authentic if necessary?"

I grimaced. "This is where it gets complicated," I said, and explained about Shelley's cheating on my brother, her offer to me, and what was on the first part of the tape.

"I haven't told my brother yet, but I have to—he's going to be as devastated as I am, and I can't keep it from him. In fact," I said, with an ironic smile, "I wonder, Margaret, whether you'd consider handling his divorce as well?"

She just looked at Eddie, then back at me. "Let's start by hearing your sister-in-law's part of the tape."

I played it for them, and then Margaret and Eddie again huddled without me for a few minutes.

When we were sitting together again she said, "quite a pair of wives you two picked". She saw my face and said, "I'm sorry, Will—I shouldn't have said that.

"Here's the situation. In all probability the tape would not be admissable against Anne, because she didn't know it was being made. On the other hand, Shelley could be subpoenaed and made to testify as to what Anne told her, so it shouldn't make much difference. Once Anne's attorney hears the tape he won't be in much position to fight.

"In your brother Dave's case, the tape IS admissable, because Shelley knew she was being recorded. So she's got no defense whatsoever—that divorce will be easy, as long as he's not totally unreasonable.

"Then there's the health club. We can sue both them and Marion. Marion won't have much money, presumably, but Eddie and I can pretty much guarantee you a nice big check from the club—somewhere in the high six figures to a million and a half. The tape could be used in a civil lawsuit, and there's no way in hell they would ever let this get into the newspapers. Think of all the husbands who'd be canceling their wives' club memberships!" She laughed for a moment, though even then she still looked scary.

Margaret said she'd get the divorce documents started, and Eddie walked me out of the office. "I am so sorry, Will. Margaret will get you what you want, I guarantee it—but I still feel terrible about what's happened."

I tried to smile. "It's okay, Eddie. This just means you and I will have more time to play tennis together." I thanked him and left.

The rest of the day I submerged myself in details. I arranged a locksmith to meet me at the house at 4:30. I made a dinner date with Dave, so I wouldn't be around when Anne came home. I cut off her credit cards and arranged separate accounts for our money. And I wrote her a note.

It took several tries. Not easy to say goodbye to the love of your life, even under these circumstances. When I finally finished it I put it in an envelope, wrote Anne's name on the front, and took it home.

The locksmith finished by about 5:15. I had a beer, sitting by myself quietly in the kitchen, then I taped the note to the outside of the front door, locked it, and left. I knew Anne would be home between 6 and 6:30. I idly wondered which she'd do first, try the door and find her key didn't work, or read the note.

** ** Our marriage is over. Now you'll be free to play around all you want with Marion and his big cock.

I've had the locks changed. If you want to get your clothing and personal things, call my attorney. [I left Margaret's name and number.] She'll arrange for you to have supervised access to the house when I'm not here.

I won't be talking to you again. You broke my heart. I loved you as much as any man can love a woman, and I looked forward to our growing old together.

Too bad our marriage vows didn't mean as much to you as some sex with a big dick—or as much as they did to me. ** **

When Dave joined me for dinner he could tell right away that something was up. We ordered, and I just took a deep breath and said it. "Anne's been cheating on me. I'm divorcing her."

He stared at me, literally open-mouthed. I'm not sure I'd ever seen that before.

"Oh my God. Will—my God. Anne?! Are you sure?"

He took a look at my face and said, "shit, sorry. Stupid question. Do you want to tell me about it?"

I did, while we sat and ate. The beers helped, but sharing my hurt and despair with my best friend helped more. He was 100% on my side, no divided loyalties, and it meant a lot.

Towards the end of dinner I said, "there's one part of it I haven't told you. Shelley is the one who got me proof. She taped a conversation of her and Anne talking, and Anne told her the whole sorry business."

He looked at me sympathetically, and said, "I am just so sorry, Will. and I hope it won't make you angry, but—I feel so lucky, you know? Having a fantastic wife like Shelley. I'm not surprised she helped you, she's always liked you. I know you haven't always approved of her, but she's..."

I couldn't let him continue—it was killing me to hear him say these things about his slut of a wife. I interrupted in the middle of his sentence.

"Listen, Dave, wait. Don't say anything else. Let me pay the bill, and I need you to come back to the house with me."

There was a note stuck under the screen door, marked "Will" in Anne's flowery handwriting. I dropped it on the hall table without reading it and led him into the guest room.

"Dave, listen—this is serious. You know I love you, you're my best friend, and I would never do anything to hurt you, right?"

He regarded me warily; we didn't usually talk to each other that way. "Of course, Will? What the hell...?"

"You need to hear the tape Shelley made. Just sit here and listen to it. I'll be in the other room." I rewound the tape to the beginning and pushed the tape recorder over to him, ignoring his surprised look, and left the room. I couldn't stand to be there while he listened.

There was quiet at first, except for the murmuring of the voices on the tape. Then a crash, and I figured Dave had thrown an ashtray or something. I heard him pacing, the tape still playing, and then finally silence.

He stomped into the kitchen, staring at me wild-eyed. "You son-of-a-bitch!"

"Dave, I..."

"You must have enjoyed this, you cocksucker! Knowing the truth about Shelley and keeping it from me—letting me go on and on about how wonderful she is!"

"No, Dave, it wasn't..."

"This must make you feel just great, you prick! You've always hated her, and now you can smile at me and say 'I told you so' for the rest of your life. You bastard!"

I stood up and raised my voice a little. "Dave, what did I just find out about Anne? You think I'm having such a great day?"

I glared at him, and gradually his face relaxed. I saw his shoulders sag, and he unclenched his fists. He sat down at the table, looking like an old man. I imagined I'd looked like that a lot lately myself.

"Sorry, Will," he said finally. "I know you're hurting just like I am. It's just...you obviously knew about this, why didn't you tell me?"

"Dave," I said, as gently as I could. "You know how you are about Shelley—you would never have believed me. Remember that fight we had, when I criticized something she'd said to mom? I found out about Shelley a week ago, and I knew that I couldn't possibly tell you—you had to hear it for yourself. I only got the tape from her yesterday."

The two of us emptied a few beer bottles while I told Dave the whole story. I began with seeing Shelley and Robby at the restaurant, then the deal she offered me, the making of the tape, and my conversation with Margaret Adamson.

"She's handling my divorce, and she'll be happy to represent you too if you want. Our cases are pretty much a shoo-in, she says."

We talked late into the night, and then Dave crashed in my guest room. He didn't have the heart to face Shelley. The phone rang several times but we didn't answer it, and finally I just left it off the hook.

*** *** *** ***

A few days went by, and then a few weeks. Anne kept calling for a while, leaving me messages of her crying and begging to talk to me, but I didn't answer or call her back. I just didn't see any reason to talk to her.

She tried finding me at work, but I'd asked our receptionist to tip me off and I ducked out of my office each time she showed up. A couple of times I saw her car parked in front of the house when I came home from work; so I just drove right by, and stayed away for a couple of hours until she left.

Margaret Adamson did her work, beautifully. The divorce papers were served, she fought through all the legal maneuvers that Anne's lawyer tried to pull, and a court date was set. In his initial conversations with Margaret he claimed that no adultery had taken place. Once she sent him a copy of the tape, we stopped hearing that line!

Instead, he pointed out that the tape was inadmissable. Margaret didn't even dignify that one with a response. She just sat tight, and as the court date approached Anne's lawyer finally called Margaret to ask for a settlement conference.

The day after hearing the tape, Dave moved out of his apartment with Shelley and into my guest room. He drove over and watched the place until she went out, then called me. The two of us packed up everything he wanted and got out of there in less than two hours. He told me, "I don't want to see her. I don't want to hear a word she has to say—I just want to get the hell away from her!"

His eyes started to tear up, and I turned away. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that I knew just how he felt?

Shelley left me a couple of angry, cursing messages at home—a nice counterpoint to Anne's remorseful ones! After a day or two I started screening the messages, deleting any from Shelley or Anne as soon as I heard their voices. Shelley called Dave at work and sent him letters, but he never responded to them. Margaret was handling his divorce too, and he and I just sat back and let her run the show.

To my amazement, the law suits against Marion and the health club were resolved first. The one against Marion never went anywhere—he disappeared one day and left no forwarding address. But the health club, eager to avoid negative publicity just as Margaret had predicted, reached a $1.1 million settlement: I signed a pledge of confidentiality and walked away with the largest check I'd ever seen, in less than ten weeks.

My brother was a rock, and I guess I was for him too. We lived like two bachelors, going out to eat a lot, taking in a ballgame from time to time, or just sitting around and talking over a few beers. We talked about Anne and Shelley, about our lives with them, about how many great women there were out there just waiting for us...

It wasn't easy to believe that last bit—and yet we were really able to help each other. I could see as plain as day that there wasn't a thing wrong with Dave that led to Shelley's behavior; she was simply a selfish slut. Likewise, Dave reassured me that Anne's cheating wasn't a reflection on me, just an indication of how fucked up SHE was. Neither of us probably believed the other one all that much, but it still helped to hear it.

Dave was divorced first, as it turned out. He made it clear that he wouldn't talk to Shelley under any circumstances, and so Margaret handled the whole thing. She told him that Shelley had fought for more money at first, but that with the tape she didn't have a leg to stand on. I went into the office with him the day he had to sign the papers—Shelley had already signed them. He smiled grimly, shook Margaret's hand and thanked her, and then went off to the men's room. I heard him crying through the door when I went to find him.

Three weeks later it was my turn. We met on a Tuesday, Anne and me and the two lawyers. Anne and her lawyer had agreed to a settlement but insisted on two conditions: that I drop adultery as a reason for the divorce, and that I meet privately with Anne before we signed the papers.