Ginger Goes All The Way.

Before she could sit, I told her to switch seats with me, turning my back to the guy who'd been checking her out. When she sat, she asked why, and I told her. She glanced over my shoulder and looked back at me.

"Hmmm." she said, then laughed.

Our drinks came. She took a sip, then asked if my pity party was for her knee, or for me because I was sorry the tear was from something so innocent. I didn't quite catch her drift and looked at her sideways. Her eyes stole over my shoulder again.

She said "Well, I see your point...he is looking at me..."

I asked "You like?"

She ignored me, said "What I meant was, maybe you'd like it better if my stockings were torn because I was a dirty girl...maybe I should tear it some more? Look like one of those girls you see staggering along at 5am, shoes in their hands, stockings striped with runners, looking like they've been slutting around all night?"

She said it with a crooked smile, her words slurred from her drinking, but she was turning me on big time.

"Maybe I would like that." I answered.

She pulled on her drink again, then said "Maybe I should go tear them up for real...maybe invite my new friend there out to the alley, scrape up my knees on the asphalt by the dumpster while I make him a happy man..."

I called her bluff.

"Yeaaa...right." I said, then sipped my own drink. "Nice thought, but don't tease me baby..."

That right pissed her off I think. She's not an angry drunk, but it heightens her competitiveness, and I'll admit that maybe I was trying to take advantage of that. She looked over my shoulder again, then back at me.

"Go ahead." I dared her. She flustered.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked..."I'm sitting here with my husband, he can clearly see that."

"I'll give you an idea, but only if you do it." I answered.

"Do WHAT?" she asked, a little loudly.

I laughed.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want, but if I give you the idea, you do the idea and see if it works. Whatever you do after that is up to you."

She looked at me, eyes narrow.

"Go on..."

I told her I'd look down at a menu, and when I did she should catch his eyes, then motion her head toward the bathroom hall. She protested that she'd just gone to the bathroom.

I said "One...it's sort of obvious you've been drinking, so maybe you need to go again...and Two, I just told you the idea, so now you have to do it."

I caught her glare at me as I reached for and then started to browse the menu. I saw her pick up her drink, saw the glass come back empty in my line of sight, and I tried to look at her, but the angle was wrong.

I was about to look up when she touched my hand, stood up, and whispered, "Be back in a jiff."

My stomach flip-flopped. I hadn't really expected her to go, and had figured I'd use the fact that she'd backed down as leverage in bed later.

I sat, sipping my drink, knowing she'd be back in just a few moments. I figured she was messing with me, probably hadn't even motioned the guy toward the hall. I turned to look for him, but his spot at the bar was empty. Well, maybe he'd left and she was taking advantage. But there his drink sat, half full, and the bartender made no move to clear it. I sat there, checked my Blackberry, but nothing new. I heard a bell ring briefly, like a fire alarm, just for a second. It didn't register at the time, my mind was elsewhere. I sipped at my drink absently, looking at the ice melting into the otherwise empty glass across from me. She'd slugged it all back just before leaving. Instant courage, just add alcohol, isn't that the saying?

I craned around to look back at the hall again, it'd been several minutes now. I started at a voice beside me...

"Looking for your girlfriend?"

I turned and saw the waitress next to the table. She was cute. She wasn't smiling.

"Uhh...my wife...she's my wife actually, but yea."

She looked down at her tray awkwardly, chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Oh...well, she, uh, she ducked out the fire door at the back a minute ago. I saw her from the kitchen when the bell rang."

Right...I'd heard the bell, hadn't I?

"I'm sorry to say it," she continued, "...but...well, I think she followed a guy out the door. I thought you should know so you didn't sit here too long."

I just said "Oh."

Awkward silence, so I managed a "Thanks." as well.

She said "You want the check?"

I pulled the rest of my drink back, held the glass, looked at her...

"No...no thanks. Two more please." I said.

"Ummm...OK."

Her mouth hung open for a second, she scribbled on her pad, and turned away. I think I heard her say "Optimist..." as she walked away.

I felt a little humiliated. Someone knew what was going on. Well, not all of it. And Ginger could just be pushing my buttons, probably was just walking around the hotel parking lot, making me sweat. I felt eyes on me, looked to see the waitress at the bar, leaning in and talking to the bartender. He looked over at me, then turned to look at the bathroom hall, then the idle drink at the bar. It was almost comedic, and I might have laughed, but then they both looked at me, and I felt their pity across the room, and I felt the humiliation again. Oddly enough, I also felt aroused. I was hard in my pants, and I thought maybe I should see a shrink the following week.

After I don't know how much longer, it seemed ages but could only have been minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder and recognized Ginger's painted nails as I looked.

"Hey babe." she said, and she sounded happy.

Relief washed over me...surely she'd have a different tone if she'd done anything. She stepped in to view, turned to sit in the booth, and I saw them. Her stockings were torn, runners spreading up and down from each knee. She smiled wickedly as she settled in.

"Ginger?" I said.

She reached across, took my hand. She was too relaxed. I wasn't buying. But hadn't she been wearing lipstick? A glance at her glass showed she had been. Now there was none. She saw it in my face. Watching me, she stretched her arms over her head, arched her back a little, and her open jacket fell away to her sides. Her nipples showed clearly through the silky cranberry material. I'd been mesmerized by the torn stockings and hadn't noticed. Her top two buttons were undone. She was braless.

She said, "He wanted a keepsake."

She picked up her glass, eyes on me, swirled the ice around questioningly.

"Two more coming." I said.

"Thanks baby." she said, looking at me.

She slowly turned her head, lifting her chin up and to my left, turning her face away from me slightly. Her hair fell away from her neck on my right side as she did so. Then, in the dim light, I saw something glistening, stretching from her hair to her neck. It hung there, quivering, then broke as she turned her head more.

A sound came from my throat, and she said, "Did you see it?"

I nodded dumbly.

"Careful what you wish for, Thomas..."

She squeezed my hand, leaned across the table, and then whispered that his first spurt had caught her off guard and splashed across her cheek, in to her hair. She told me she'd got it back in her mouth, but the second was more than she anticipated, and some of it dribbled out of her lips. She looked down, placed a finger at the top of her cleavage. This bit had dried, but a dull streak was evident on her skin, disappearing in to her cleavage. She said she'd wiped her cheek and chin with her finger and licked it off when he was finished. But she'd left some in her hair. Proof, she said.

She looked at me as I processed it. She'd done it.

I looked back at her, and she said, "You wanna kiss me, baby?"

Her face was confident, but her voice betrayed some trepidation. I leaned over, reached my hand across, put a finger to the spot on her neck, felt the wetness. I looked at it, rubbed my fingers together. It was slippery. She looked uncertain.

I leaned further toward her, pulled her head to me, and kissed her. Her tongue pushed in to my mouth. I could taste the whiskey and soda, but also something else. My cock twitched under the table.

I felt a presence next to us then, pulled back, saw the waitress there. She was staring at Ginger. I leaned back. She looked plainly at my wife, lowered her gaze to her torn stockings, then back to her face deliberately. She turned her back on Ginger then, facing me, put one drink in the middle of the table, another with a red straw in front of me.

"A double for you...on the house sweetie.", she said. Then she leaned toward me, said not so quietly, "Listen...you're a nice looking guy...you don't need to put up with that shit."

Then she stood, threw another glance over her shoulder at Ginger, and walked away. I looked at my wife. Her face clouded.

"Give me one reason not to, right now," she said, "or I'm going to go drag her ass back in that alley and beat the shit out of her..."

Rowrrr! Feisty!

I thought for a second, looked in her eyes, then said sincerely, "You have never looked more beautiful to me than you do right now..."

That did it. Her anger deflated instantly, and she sipped her drink, eying me over the rim.

We sat for a minute, awkward silence stretching between us. All I could think about was getting her home to fuck her while she told me what happened. I tried to think of a cheesy line she might have heard during the bet, started to say,

"So...you want to get out of here, go somewhere a little more quiet?"

I figured it'd be good for a laugh.

As I started, though, she also started. We both stopped, laughed. I told her to go, she told me the same. Ladies first, I said. I'm no lady tonight, she retorted. A good one, and I laughed again. She said to go again, but I just cocked my head and looked at her.

She looked down, took a longer sip. Her hand trembled a bit. I put a hand on hers. She took a breath, another drink.

"He wanted me to come back to his room...he's staying here."

"Before...like when you first met him back there?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"After...he asked me to come with him after...you know."

I let the silence linger.

"But I knew you were back here waiting, so I said I couldn't..."

She wouldn't look at me, and I knew.

"You wanted to." I said.

She took another sip and I did the same. Decision time.

Before I could over-think it, I said, "Give me your keys."

She looked up at me.

"What? Why?"

I pulled out my wallet, took out some cash, and said, "Because our car is in the lot, and I don't want you trying to drive home later. You need to go and meet your new friend. I'm going to finish my complimentary drink, then cab it home to wait for you."

She looked at me with wide eyes.

"You're crazy, Thomas."

"I was thinking the same thing a little bit ago."

She handed over her keys, threw the rest of her drink back for good measure, shuddered it down, took the cash for the cab later, and stood.

Looking at me, she said, "You sure about this baby?"

Suddenly I wasn't so sure at all, but I nodded my head anyway. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder.

"If you think you're going to fuck that little waitress after I leave, just know that I will hunt her down and kill her."

Clearly not a two-way street we were on, but I appreciated her possessiveness.

"Rowr...hisss" I said it out loud this time, made a claw with my hand..then said, "Not a chance...I need to get home and wait for my hot wife."

Her eyes softened, she paused.

"Just come home to me, Ginger...that's all...come home to ME..."

"I promise" she whispered.

And she was gone. The waitress and bartender were looking over. Not wanting any more free advice, I dropped a couple of twenties on the table, gulped down my own drink, choked back a cough and thought "smoooooooothhhhhh", which made me smile to myself.

Dignity? Gone. Self-respect? Fading fast. Sense of humor? CHECK! I must have looked a little crazy, smiling to myself as I left. Fitting, I think, since it's exactly how I felt.

My mind spun during the ride home. Would she take it further? What was she doing right then? Darker thoughts crept in. Would she like him? Better than me? Would she come home tonight, or spend the night? We hadn't discussed it...she said she'd come home, but not when. Worse yet, was she in danger? I entered the quiet house, poured a drink, and sat alone with my thoughts in the dark. I was worrying for nothing. Sure, she'd given him a blowjob, but I'd really left her no choice. I pushed her, and she did it as much out of spite as desire, right? She was playing another bluff. She'd be home right behind me, I thought. I hoped? The minutes dragged on, however, and I knew inside it was a false hope.

Headlights splashed across the front window, rousing me from my haze. I could make out a lighted sign atop the car that stopped out front and knew she was home. Checking my watch, I must have dozed, it had been 90 minutes since she'd left the bar. I went to the door, opened it, my heart pumping in my ears. She stepped out of the cab. I have seen a topic on a site I like called the "Walk of Shame", where people post pictures and stories of wives coming home from their "dates", and I thought of it then. Her feet and legs were bare. Her shoes dangled from fingertips in one hand, stockings nowhere to be seen. Her jacket hung open, breasts jiggling as she stood. Her skirt was at an angle, one side higher than the other.

Anxiety mixed with raw lust inside me. My cock raged. Her hair was a mess, and it looked like eyeliner streaked beneath her eyes. I stepped on to the porch, squinting to see her face. She saw me, and I saw something wet before she looked down. She was crying. Oh god. I ran down the walk. The cab pulled away. She stood there trembling in the night.

I reached her, wrapped her in my arms...

"Baby? Baby...are you OK? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

My worst fears washed over me, something had gone horribly wrong. She started to sob, but she was stiff, arms at her sides. She wouldn't look at me.

"Ginger...you're scaring me...did he hurt you? What did he do?"

She shook her head, buried her face in my shoulder, shaking in my arms.

I said, "Baby...we know where he is...let me get you inside...I'll go down there, call the cops.."

Fury battled with concern. She shook her head again...

"Nuh..nuh...nothing like that...no...no..."

"You're not hurt...he didn't hurt you?"

She shook her head again.

"What then Gin? You're scaring me...tell me...please tell me?"

She started, voice muffled against my shoulder.

"Ch...ch..ch" she stammered. "I chuh..chuh...".

I pushed her head from my shoulder gently, felt her body shaking in my hands. She looked down, I lifted her chin, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Let's go inside baby...c'mon."

I guided her up the walk, her steps halting, unsteady, into the house, sat her on the couch. She sat stiffly, head in hands, eyes on the floor. I kneeled before her.

"Baby?"

She drew a deep breath, blew it out of her mouth. Shuddered. Raising her head, she steeled herself. Tears leaked from her eyes as they met mine, but she held the gaze.

"Oh Thomas...Thomas...I told myself I never would...but I did...I did...baby...I cheated on you...I cheated on you...I'm so sorry..."

Her body shook with another sob and she hung her head again, her hair hanging limply around her face. I knelt there on the floor...stroked my fingers through her hair, emotions battling within me. She'd taken it further. All the way.

Relief...she wasn't hurt.

Jealousy...she'd been with another man.

Lust...she'd been with another man, just as I'd practically begged.

Most of all, fear...fear of losing her.

I was disgusted with myself for this...look what I'd done to her. But I was undeniably turned on.

Why was she so upset? We'd talked about it, it's what I'd said I'd wanted. The only reason I could think of was that she'd liked it, liked him...it had affected her feelings for me, and she felt bad for it. She sobbed again, her breath hitching in her chest. I pulled her head to my chest.

"Shhhh...shhhh...you have to breathe...breathe Ginger..."

I took an exaggerated breath, let it out slow.

"Like that...c'mon...with me..." and did it again.

She tried once...twice...

"Relax...cmon...breathe with me..."

And she did.

The room grew quiet.

"You want something? Some tea?" I asked.

She whispered..."A drink...please..."

I stood, went to the little globe that opens to hold our liquor, and poured a couple of fingers of Jack. She sat back, looked across the room at me, face streaked with tears and eye liner. I smiled weakly, and her eyes dropped to her lap.

I decided then, that whatever the outcome, I wouldn't let silence be the end of this. I'd tell her what I thought..everything. If she'd decided to go elsewhere, to not be with me anymore, then it would break my heart. But she wouldn't do it without knowing that she was everything to me, no matter what she'd done.

I sat next to her, handed her the glass. She brought it to her open lips, started to gulp.

"Shhhh...hey...hey...sip it baby..sip it for me...OK?"

She swallowed hard...nodded once...took a smaller sip, sighed as the warmth of the liquor spread through her. I put a hand on her cheek, pushed her hair away.

"Hey..." I said. "I want you to look at me...and let me say what I have to say...let me finish...OK?"

She turned to me, met my eyes, and tears leaked again from hers. And so I told her. About my love for her. How I didn't even know what love was until I'd met her. About how I'd never felt anything, not ever, like I felt when she was near me. I told her some things that I'd never said, how I watched her when she slept sometimes, or watched her do mundane things, and how my stomach flip-flopped when I did. Some things made her smile, and that felt good. I told her how awful I felt about tonight, how I thought she'd like it, but that I could see I'd been selfish and pushed too hard, and how seeing her hurt like this ate me up inside. About how scared I was that she'd found someone better tonight and that I might lose her, and her head shook when I said these things, but she listened. About not wanting anything else, or anyone else, but her, no matter what it took, and no matter what happened. And that if she needed to go, that I would fight for her, try to make her see how deep my love was for her, but that if she really wanted to go after I gave it my best, then I'd understand and leave her be.

She just looked at me when I'd finished. I felt myself shaking now. I'd opened the door for her to leave if that was what she wanted. I would fight it, but I've always believed you should let people find their own way, and my heart was a lump in my throat as I waited to hear if she wanted to go.

Her eyes were soft, she'd stopped shaking. She put her drink down, asked me, "You still want me? After what I did?"

I nodded.

"Thomas...I know we've talked...I know you've said you wanted it...but you weren't sure tonight when I left."

Now my eyes dropped, and she lifted my chin.

"You weren't, and I knew, but I went anyway. I was the selfish one tonight. And then after..." She sighed. "After...in the elevator, it just hit me, and it terrified me...I just knew...I KNEW...that I'd come home and you'd see me, and you'd know...and...and...and you'd leave."

She caressed my cheek.

"But you know now...and here you are anyway..."

I kissed her, softly on the lips.

She asked, "You don't want to leave?"

"Never." I said, "And you...you don't want to leave?"

"Never..." she answered.

Relief washed over me, I think over us both. She drew the leg closest to me up, resting her bare foot on her bare thigh so she could slide closer to me. She wrapped her arms around me, drew me to her.