The following story is by guest author William Quincy Belle. If you enjoyed this story, you can find more of his work at his blog wqebelle.blogspot.ca, or you can follow him on Twitter @wqbelle
“You bitch.”
The couple, in the middle of coupling beneath the sheets, froze at the sound of the voice.
Paul looked down at Bethany with a raised eyebrow. “That’s my wife, isn’t it?”
Bethany moved her head and looked around him at the figure standing in the door. She looked up at Paul and nodded.
The man sighed and rolled his eyes. “Oh God.” He disengaged himself from the woman and lay down beside her, then rolled over on his back. He looked at his wife. “Listen sweetie… I…”
“Sweetie? Sweetie?” Mary chuckled. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mary strode up to the side of the bed and stared at the woman. “Bethany, how could you?”
“It just happened…” Bethany’s voice trailed off. She looked back at Mary, then lowered her eyes.
“It just happened?” Mary sounded exasperated. “Did Paul trip and fall and by some odd stroke of luck his penis ended up in your vagina?”
Mary reached into a pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She fiddled with the interface, then held it up to the bed and took a picture. The device made a noise mimicking the sound of a camera shutter as the flash lit up the area.
“What are you doing?” said Paul.
“A picture is worth a thousand words.” Mary seized the edge of the sheets. With a strong sweeping motion, she pulled the sheets off Paul and Bethany, leaving the two of them exposed. Mary snapped a picture, and the flash lit up the two of them lying there side by side, nude.
Bethany cried out in surprise and attempted to cover herself with her hands. Paul was startled. “What the hell are you doing?” Paul glared at his wife while reaching down to pull the sheets back up over Bethany and himself.
Mary stopped looking at the cell phone and looked at her husband. “What am I doing? Paul, you are having sex with another woman in our bed, our bed. Shouldn’t the question be directed to yourself? What the hell are you doing? What the hell were you thinking?” Mary put her cell phone back in a pocket.
“Why are you here?” Paul now looked puzzled. “Is there a problem? Did you have an accident?”
Mary looked at her husband with a smirk. “No accident, Paul. No problem at all other than your own stupidity. You yourself told me to come home, so I did.” Mary walked out of the bedroom, leaving Paul and Bethany alone.
Paul glanced at the clock. “You better get going. You never know if there will be a jam or not.”
Mary looked up at the clock. “Okay.” She drank the last of her coffee and stood up from the table. She paused, looking at the dishes.
Paul noticed her looking at the table and smiled. “Hey, I’ll take care of everything. You get out of here.” He stood up and cleared the table, piling things beside the sink.
Mary checked her briefcase to make sure she had all the materials for her evening class. It was tough taking a university course after putting in a full day on the job, but it was the price to pay in trying to better one’s self. Two more courses and she would get her MBA, and that would translate into a higher position on the pay grid. Money was quite the motivator, so with that thought, she gathered up her things and prepared to leave.
Mary walked over to her husband and kissed him. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her back. He smiled, then said, “Go get ’em tiger.”
“I won’t be home until 11 p.m.”
“I’ll be here.”
Mary had to leave no later than 6 p.m. as it took at least forty minutes to drive to campus. She always had to give herself some leeway as there was always a chance of a tie-up with traffic. An evening course from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. made for a long evening, but it was the price one had to pay to get ahead. She picked up the keys and went out the front door.
It took ten minutes to get on the parkway, then Mary had about twenty-five minutes to her exit to the university. She got into the middle lane and set the car on cruise control. After daydreaming for a few minutes, she switched on the radio and tuned in to WABC, one of the local stations. There was a supper hour show which started at six hosted by a local man who discussed the issues of the day with interviews with various experts. Mary adjusted the volume.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. In just a moment we’ll be talking with Dr. Clive Martin, professor of economics at Hopewell University, about how the financial crisis in Europe affects our own situation and how the cost of consumer goods will rise over the next year.”
“But first, let’s turn our attention to the next possible winner of our weekly jackpot.”
Mary perked up. The radio station ran a weekly contest during the show when it phoned a random listener at home and asked a skill testing question. Listeners had to fill out a form on the station’s website to participate but then it was up to chance whether the listener was called. Since Mary had started listening to the show regularly because of her commute, she had entered her and her husband in the contest. The jackpot was only a couple of hundred bucks but it was better than a kick in the pants, as her father used to say.
“So let’s see…who’s going to be a lucky participant tonight?” There was the sound of a drum roll for a moment, then the crash of a cymbal. “Paul and Mary Douglas of Depew!” Mary cried out in the car. She became excited, turning up the volume so she could hear every detail.
“Let’s give these folks a call and see if they can answer tonight’s question.” Mary could hear the ringing of a phone. She was imagining her husband now running to answer it. There was an audible click of the receiver being picked up.
“Hello?” Mary looked startled. It was the voice of a woman. Had the station dialed the wrong number?
“I’d like to speak to Mary Douglas,” said the announcer.
“Ah, she’s not here,” said the woman.
There was the distinct sound of the phone being fumbled by whoever was holding it. Although not as loud as the woman’s voice, a man’s voice could be heard, Paul’s voice. “Bethany, come back to bed.” There was more fumbling, then somebody hung up the phone.
The announcer chuckled, “Well, it would seem that our caller has a much more pressing engagement to consider. In fact, our couple may have already hit the jackpot. Let’s take a commercial break and when we return, we’ll talk with Professor Martin of Hopewell University.”
Mary gazed at the road. What the heck? Did that just happen? This can’t be true. Bethany? Her Bethany? Her neighbourhood friend who lived two doors down from them?
Mary drove on, mulling over her options when she noticed a sign go by indicating the next exit. She put on her signal and moved over to the exit lane. Mary had made up her mind. She would go home and see what exactly was going on in her absence. It was time for Paul to answer a skill testing question.
Featured Image found via Creative Commons
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