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Sometimes Dark Clouds Do Have Silver Linings

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The song blasting from the jukebox in the less than crowded bar was more than appropriate for the present mood I was in. The song was a Three Doors Down tune, and the words of the chorus hit my chest like a hammer blow.

And there's something I can't see, there's something different in the way you smile.
Behind those eyes you lie.
And there's nothing I can say, 'cause I'm never gonna change your mind.
Behind those eyes you hide.

Indeed there had been a great deal of lying and hiding going on behind the eyes of my wife of fifteen years, Sheila. For the last two months I had nearly suspected that she had been replaced with an alien pod person. She was moody one moment and loving the next, almost overly so. There were periods where she was outright distant. Often during these fugue states, I would have to repeat something I said to her more than once before she seemed to wake up from whatever was going on in her head.

Of course, when I inquired as to the cause of this disturbing behavior, it was always the same old thing. It was nothing in particular. It was stress, or PMS, or her hormones were giving her trouble. Of course, my suggestion that she see a doctor was immediately rebuffed, and that quite forcefully. It was not these actions alone that had me sitting alone in a corner of a rather worn down and seedy looking drinking establishment. No, there were other troubling actions that had me unsettled enough to be putting away Manhattans in rather unusual quantities.

There had been several times when Sheila had not been where she said she was going to be. Sheila had never been a stay at home a lot wife to begin with. She was often at her mothers or shopping with our daughter. Ours was an unusual marriage in that respect. Though we mutually spent a great deal of time apart, we made the most of our time together. I had never really made any effort to check up on her whereabouts, as I trusted her fully. Of course, in the past when she said she would be at such and such a location, it could be counted on with certainty. Now it seemed that even that old familiar pattern was being broken.

I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Although I make a good living, and could by all standards be considered moderately well off, I'm not a rocket scientist by any stretch. But all this was adding up to a conclusion that didn't exactly call for the talents of the fictional sleuth, Sherlock Holmes. No, Luke Johnson might have been born at night, but it wasn't last night. I had no choice but to believe that there was a weasel in the chicken coop, and that my particular hen had been singled out for the menu. Of course, the possibility was there that she had already fallen into the weasel's clutches.

Sheila and I had actually met some seventeen years ago. I was fresh out of college, armed with a degree in business administration. I landed work fairly quickly and was making good money. I was considered a handsome lad. At a touch over six feet tall, broad of shoulder and slim of hip, I was a good physical specimen. I kept myself that way with a regular physical regimen. My sandy colored hair was well groomed and trimmed short. My eyes were a soft green, and my skin was smooth and tanned. My pleasant, laid back personality and my dry humor also made me popular, according to my friends and business contacts.

I was doing some casual dating but had hit on nothing serious. It was at this point that my mother had collaborated with an old friend who had a daughter a few years younger. Thus I found myself in the crosshairs of two matchmakers and reluctantly headed out for a blind date. I had expected the usual disaster with a two headed swamp thing, but was stunned when I saw the other victim of the conspirators' plotting. Terri was an absolutely gorgeous young blonde. With that, a rather intense relationship had started off and both of us were happy for a good while. It was during this period that I met Sheila, who was Terri's second cousin.

After nearly a year, the bloom had fallen off the rose between Terri and me. I was the one who hit the kill switch, and Terri was devastated and hurt. I actually made several attempts to start it back up, but was met with resistance and finally gave up.

A few months later, I was in attendance at the Homecoming game at my former high school. On the way to the concession stand I ran into Sheila and struck up a conversation with her. It was rather obvious that there was a spark there. I could see it, for my part, in her eyes.

Sheila was cute, of that there was no doubt. Her long thick auburn hair was arresting, as were her blue eyes. She was a tall girl with heavy breasts and a slim waist. The things her backside could do to a tight pair of jeans were of considerable interest to me as well. Her legs were delicious, long and shapely, as I knew from seeing her in a dress at family functions. All in all she was quite the package, since besides her good looks; she also had a shy, sweet personality.

Within days we were an item. It was not a popular development with Terri, and there was a brief respite on Sheila's part to try and heal over this family difficulty. Within a few weeks, Sheila had decided that the romance was not to be denied. Her cousin would just have to accept things as they were.

Developments made the point rather moot as the months went along. Sheila's period came up late, despite the fact that we were using protection, thank you Trojan Rubber Company, and a marriage was quickly set up and performed. The two of us just settled in and started our life together. Sheila was a restaurant manager, and between the two of us we made a decent living. Two children resulted in the next few years, a daughter, named Tina, and a son Joshua.

The marriage had been a consistently happy one, although it was hardly what everyone's idea might have been. We lived only a few hundred yards from Sheila's mother, on the same road in fact. Sheila and her mother were very close and she spent a great deal of time there, usually every evening and a considerable amount of time on the weekend as well. This did not cause the expected friction because I had a great many hobbies I was involved in. We were together for almost every meal time and usually planned some special outing as a family over the weekend.

If there was a downside to the marriage, at least from my view, it was the sex. Granted, it was there in good frequency. Sheila was an enthusiastic lover, especially on the rare occasions that she indulged in some alcohol. It was just that she was rather vanilla to be frank, as I viewed things. An example was oral sex. I love giving it and she loved getting it. She would have no part in reciprocating, however I might plead. She would allow certain different positions, but that's about as far as it went. What Sheila and I viewed as sexy in the area of lingerie was quite varied as well. A silk nightdress was about as wild as she was comfortable with. I tried desperately to spice things up, but it usually backfired. Things just went from vanilla to icy and I got nothing. So, I tried to be understanding and went with vanilla. I had been given more than one opportunity to stray, but I'd always resisted it. Despite things being less than what I would have liked, I loved Sheila and never did want to run the risk of losing my family. It was really bad if I happened to see some porn or a magazine layout that involved some hotter scenarios though. Still, I made do with what I had and some fantasy.

Now here I am fifteen years in, and from all appearances the least likely of the duo has strayed, or was at least contemplating it. I couldn't figure it out. I was still looking as good and was still in great shape. I certainly wasn't neglecting her in any way. She was still looking damn good though, and maybe she had just gotten bored and got a better offer. One thing was damn sure and certain. Talking and questioning was getting me nowhere fast. It was time to get some answers. I might not like what I found out, yet I had to know.

Some of my tinkering, and in later years, computer activity had actually led me to some money making opportunities, so I could afford to acquire the services of a professional. I had accepted the recommendation of my company's security chief and found myself that next afternoon in the spacious offices of Blevins Investigations. I had expected some Humphrey Bogart type, or a hardened ex-cop, but what I got was a very attractive brunette named Barbara Blevins. It turned out that she owned the agency.

It was decidedly difficult to keep my mind on business. Barbara Blevins was an outright doll. Bright blue eyes burned radiantly from a lovely face atop a body made for sin. Her hair was long, thick, and wavy and her breasts were obviously large and firm. She looked like she had been poured into her dress, and the considerable length of leg displayed below the hemline was mouthwatering, shapely and nylon covered. Her ass was amazing and swayed hypnotically as she walked atop her heels.

I fought down the desire to ravish the woman in her own office and settled into the chair in front of her desk, trying to subtly adjust my cock which was as hard as an iron bar. From the slight smile on her face as she sat at her own chair behind her desk, I wasn't so sure I had been discreet enough.

I gave her the particulars of my quandary. She in turn spelled out how her team, who she assured me were crack professionals, would address the issue. Barbara vowed that within 24 hours, Sheila Johnson would be under constant surveillance. The only thing they would not have on film or recording would be the thoughts inside her skull.

Now the maddening wait began. Things at home had certainly not changed. If anything, they had deteriorated. Yet I tread lightly. I had tried to give Sheila the chance and the space to come clean and open up about whatever was on her mind and troubling her spirit.

Several days went by. One evening my cell rang. It was Barbara Blevins telling me that we needed to meet as soon as possible, as there had been several developments in the case. I noted that Sheila had entered the house as I was talking in my study. After hanging up with Barbara, I could hear Sheila upstairs showering. This again was not a good sign. She came down about an hour later looking nervous and haggard. She went into the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Surprisingly she came back into the room and sat down, obviously prepared to actually engage in a rare conversation. I frankly wasn't sure whether this was a good sign or a bad one.

"I'm just going to tell you that this may be my last night in this house." She said hesitantly, "You've asked me several times what my problem is, and I've lied to you, saying there was no problem, or as to the nature of the problem. Well there is a problem and I'm going to tell you as much as you want to know, although I'll tell you right now you're not going to like it."

It was pretty obvious where this was going to go. I could already feel coldness in my heart and a burning flame start up in my stomach. This was not going to be a good night for me. I could feel it in my bones.

"Around two months ago I let a situation get out of hand. Do you remember that new waiter, Keith? Well, all the girls were just nuts about him. I just might as well admit it, I thought he was good looking too. Well, he's a flirt Luke, I mean with every woman in the restaurant. He even did it to me, although it was nowhere near the level of the other girls. With me he was more subtle, everything was much more implied. Still, it fed my ego to have an attractive man, that much younger, saying nice things about me. I should have been a lot wiser and shut it down right then. It would have probably stopped all this mess from happening."

My body had just gone completely numb. It felt like there was a weight on my chest, keeping me from breathing. Oh yeah, this was going right where I was afraid it was.

"As I said, two months ago I royally screwed up. One of the girls had a birthday, so we had her a little party with some cake and punch after the shift changed. There was nothing unusual about that, we do it all the time. But it was Friday, and one of them, I don't even know who now, brought in a bottle of vodka. Not only did I not demand they get rid of it, I drank some of it in the punch. He got me in the supply closet somehow. You know how I am when I drink. He fucked me Luke. He fucked me and I let him. I've been doing it with him for two months now and it had to stop. The guilt was just eating me alive. I knew you could tell something was wrong with me. You were going to find out anyway. If I had any chance of saving this marriage I had to come clean and confess my sins to you. I pray you'll forgive me. I still love you and want you and the kids. I ended it with him tonight. He transfers to another restaurant in another city Monday. Now you know."

"Well at least you had the decency to end it and confess it to me, though that's small comfort. It would have been a whole lot more of a damn comfort if you had ended it after the first time, although I still don't know if I'd felt any different. I just don't know how I feel right now is the funny thing. Oh, I'm hurt and pissed off. But on some level I was prepared for this. I knew. I've known for some time now. I just didn't know who or the particulars of it."

I went to the bar and poured myself a stiff belt of bourbon. At that moment, part of me wanted to kill her and the other half wanted to throw her over my knee and spank her, as ludicrous as that sounds.

"Sheila, I'm not going to be able to explore this with you any further tonight. I've got to have some time to think, and before you ask, no I don't have any idea how long. I may be seeing a divorce lawyer by the end of the week. On the other hand we might stay together and get some help to salvage this mess. There are three things keeping me from kickin' your cheatin' ass out that door right now in your nightdress and housecoat. One of them is the fact that you did end this thing and told me about it. The other two are asleep in two of the bedrooms upstairs right now. In the end that might still not be enough to hold this thing together. Needless to say, I'll be on the couch tonight. Has the son of a bitch been in our bed Sheila?"

"Luke I'd never do that to you!" She said with the tears flowing down her face.

"You've been lettin' another man have my pussy for the past two months Sheila!" I hissed in rage, "Pardon the Hell out of me if I question your moral standards for awhile."

Needless to say, there was little sleep that night, despite several tumblers of Kentucky's finest. There were some things that needed ironing out before I could begin to take any course of action, and my mind was twisting all these things around. One thing on the list was off. I knew who, and if I could believe her story he was in the wind and gone. That would, of course, be verified. If he wasn't in the wind, he'd best start getting there real quick. If he was still in this town and I got to him, I'd stomp a mud hole in his young ass and walk it dry.

I guess it need not be said that I was near useless at work. I finally left out a little after one in the afternoon and was soon parked in front of the desk of Barbara Blevins. As beautiful as she was, I hated that sad little smile she gave me when I walked in. It was not meant to be hurtful, I knew, but damned if I wanted any pity right then.

"Well pretty lady, it kinda turns out I wasted my money." I announced with a sigh.

"Let me guess, she came clean?"

"That's about the size of it. It seems like it started at work. According to her, he took advantage of her at work after she had some alcohol. Of course, it took her two months to realize she still had a strange dick in her from time to time."

"Yes, from what we've picked up, they were very discreet." She said, placing a large manila folder and a DVD on top of her desk, "It seems like they were mostly meeting at his apartment. Now this is probably not going to make you feel better, but they've been together relatively few times. They've been together five times, although he's pressed for a lot more than that. She was still reluctant to meet with him, right up until the end, which was last night. On the other hand, she was a willing participant once things got rolling. Yet she chose you and her kids in the end and gave him the wave goodbye. On that note, he is gone. His things were packed and he was headed West right around lunch time."

"I'm assuming that there are pictures and audio and all that." I said, pointing at the envelope and the DVD.

"Yes, and I'm going to implore you, right now. Don't watch the DVD or look at the pictures. You're better off imagining what happened than having it stamped into your brain, never to be erased. Hand them off to your attorney and kick her to the curb, if that's what you're going to do. Or tell her you're going to get even and go out and have a revenge fuck or six. Then put it back together and try to start over. Look, I'm cynical as hell. My team and I see the absolute worst crap you can imagine. You couldn't get me to get married at the end of a sawed off shot gun. But, I'm speaking as a woman here. I believe that she loves you. Her choice kinda proves that, doesn't it? Okay, she fucked up, pardon the pun. Just remember, you're only human yourself. It could have been you falling into temptation."

"Well, it's like I told her last night. She's still holding on by three threads, one thin and two thick. She gets points for confessing and ending it. That's the thin thread. I've got those two kids to consider in this mess too. If this turns into a shitstorm, they're going to get splattered. There are your two thick threads. So all that goes into the mix before I can make a decision."

"Luke, you're a good man and I don't see many I have that opinion of, even if you do a poor job of hiding it when you find a woman attractive." She said laughingly, as I turned deep crimson, "You'll make the right decision on this. You'll land on your feet eventually. Make me one promise."

"Anything." I replied.

"Let me know how things go. Sometimes I take special interest in a client."

I probably don't even need to tell you, but I watched the damned DVD. I listened to her protest to the asshole over and over that what they were doing was wrong and it had to stop. She kept telling him that she loved me and her kids and we were too important to her to lose. Yet several times they had gotten together and she had played the beast with two backs with the asshole. I guess it was like eating the damn potato chip. You just couldn't stop with one.

One blessing in all this mess was that there had only been time for my investigator's team to catch them going at it one time, the night of their break up. I don't know if I could have taken anymore. It was watching that video of them in action that allowed me to see the depth of her betrayal.

Keith was the proverbial brown eyed handsome man. Yet he didn't have a thing I lacked. The bastard wasn't hung to his knees. In fact, I had him beat in both length and girth. Hell, I could even outdo him in staying power, despite the difference in our age. It was my dear wife who was managing to shock the Hell out of me.

First of all, she was in lingerie that would have made a Vegas hooker proud. She was in a black satin bustier with a shelf bra that exposed nearly the entirety of her breasts. Attached to the garters of the bustier was a pair of sheer black seamed nylons. This was a far cry from the silk knee length nightgowns I'd been forced to get by on. Apparently she had some "special playwear" at Keith's apartment. I also noted with burning rage that she'd shaved her pussy for the son of a bitch.

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