There are two types of people in this world: One that says there are two types of people here and the other claims that there must be more than that.

Let’s assume the former is correct and people come in just two varieties. Les was one type, Carolyn the opposite. Les was a hoarder, a miser, one who insisted getting the last bit of toothpaste out of a tube, the last dollar out of a car deal, consuming everything on his plate, whether he wanted/needed it or not. Carolyn took a more laissez-faire approach to life. If it needed fixing or replaced, just spend the damn money!

This was fine, except that Les and Carolyn were married, to each other. Alone, with just the two of this childless-on-purpose couple, they got along as well as most any pair. Both wisely decided that the battles they fought would be about substantial issues.

The argument, “Is this hill worth dying over?” worth the angst? Typically, they agreed to disagree.

Storm clouds were on the horizon, though. When out in public, at dinner with friends or at a church function, the lightning sparks of disagreement threatened to start a conflagration.

Their tenth anniversary was coming up in about six months. Les wanted to set the whole thing up right away. He wanted all the details, especially about costs, financing and firm plans.

When he brought it up on the ride home from a movie with friends, Carolyn shushed him, saying, “Darling, that is a long way from now. We don’t know where we’ll be then.”

Thomas, who was driving, glanced into the back seat to address their double date, saying, “Wherever you go, Carolyn, you’ll look great! You have a new ‘do’ and you lost all that weight!”

Carolyn accepted the compliments, saying, “My new job is hectic. I get no time to even eat. And the stress is unbelievable, but thanks.”

Thomas’s wife, Jane asked, “Carolyn. How are you going to handle being away from home two or three nights a week?”

To Les, she playfully asked, “Can you get by without her?”

“I guess I’ll find a way to manage,” he wondered aloud. “We are so lucky Carolyn finally remembered we had a date with you two tonight. It has totally slipped our appointments secretary’s mind.”

Jane appeared to mull something over in her mind. A few miles past and she continued, in a teasing voice, asking Carolyn, “So you will be spending time in those hotel bars entertaining clients, eh?”

She said this playfully enough, but the implication was there.

Carolyn missed it, agreeing that there might be some after-work social contact. She replied, “That’s not being unfaithful, per se, is it? Les plays on our church softball team and the guys and girls go out afterwards to drink beer. He’s the one you’d better watch while I’m gone.”

Les’s wife continued, “When I was in Chicago last month, you had the whole house, hell, the whole town to yourself for a week. Were you a good boy? How can I be sure?”

He got testy, “We don’t go out ‘to drink beer.’ Our team socializes at a sports bar. That is all.”

He raised his voice enough for the front seat to notice, “I got a colonoscopy on that Thursday you were away. The prior-procedure diet, that awful crap I had to drink, and the procedure itself kept me at home, in the bathroom most of the time. I’m glad Tom was able to take a day off to chauffer me around! Me fool around? I’m calling bullshit!”

Carolyn was glad the trip was coming to an end. There would be no inviting their transportation in for a nightcap.

She finished up, disclosing, “I gave Les two great homecoming gifts, didn’t I, sweetie?”

Les answered as he lifted himself out of the backseat, “Yeah. One was great, but I never liked hillbilly music and you brought home a CD of it.”

They continued arguing as Tom and Jane drove away.

The discussion went, “I always loved country music and don’t call it hillbilly.”

Les caved, saying, “The other gift was great. I don’t think you’ve ever given me a blowjob like that before.”

The following day was Sunday and Carolyn stayed home from church, to pack, perhaps even a week away. She secreted herself in the master bath with her phone.

Les used the guestroom facilities. He mused, “She’s been in there an hour. I’ll shave later.”

That evening, with Carolyn on her way to Chicago, Les did what he thought was the right thing. He tried to go online to one of two flight tracking sites, to watch the progress his wife’s plane made toward ORD.

His trusty computer broke. It shut down. He tried all his tricks to revive the admittedly older machine without success. He resorted to using his cell and saw that the plane landed.

Even with all his rebooting, key strokes and even a battery restart, the thing was dead as Elvis.

Carolyn’s home computer beckoned. She had no qualms of conscience about invading Les’s space, commandeering his old one if she needed to. She was just that way. Les, being the opposite, had never gone through his wife’s pocketbook, bank book or computer.

Les heeded the call of the working computer. He solved the password problem within a few minutes. She’d used her dorm room number and hall from college, capitalizing the first word. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Her message post site was already active. Carolyn hadn’t shut down her computer correctly, closing out all her business. Les read,

Johnnie, I will text you tomorrow morning when it is okay to call me. Les is getting suspicious, I think. As we used to say, ‘the rabbit died.’ You must be too young to get the message: I am NOT pregnant. Maybe we should start to use some protection. Yeah, I know you like the feel of your bare dick inside my cunt, but I am not going to take another chance.

Tonight’s dinner date with our friends did not go well. Les is so testy and sensitive. He blamed me for not remembering that we were going out. Honestly, I could not think of anything else but you all weekend. Going back to Chicago! Wow. Our last time in Chicago was terrific. I came three times on that prick. Try to get the same suite, even if I have to pay extra for it. Les has the money, if I don’t. NO. We will call down for room service the way we always do. I am not going to make the whole damn staff get more suspicious. ‘Mr. Big’ paged both of us, in tandem, last time and both of us were so fucking busy he lost a sale. He was pissed! Bye.

Les read the entry twice, once standing, once sitting down, then reading the same text through his fingers spread out over his face. He clicked the next earlier entry. It seemed to be from sometime during the previous week.

I am getting worried. I have never been this late before. Yes, I had a good time, last time. I can hear you asking me that, to see if I thought it was worth it. Fuck yes, I had a great time. I almost let you invite that guy in the bar up to our suite. I always wanted to fuck two guys at the same time, or at least, one after another. I thought it cute that you would have let Ace go first and you would have been stuck with sloppy seconds. If Mr. Tall Ace’s black balls had unloaded, you might have changed your mind. Why don’t you research whether tall black men inherently have bigger dicks and balls? I’m not joking; I expect you to check it out. I did like flirting with him before you got out of the executive conference. He was bold enough to hang with me, even after you showed up! Maybe next time? If there is a next time. I would be very busy if we have a growing problem on our hands. If Mr. Big decides that you stay home, I might hook up anyway. The same Dallas contingent will be there, so Ace will prob’ly attend. See what a slut you created? Now that you taught me how to deep throat a dick, even a big one, do you think I should try my new-found skills on other guys? Les sure did like it, but I was afraid I was so good he might get suspicious. I love the concert we went to. I really like your style of music. The boxset of C&W tunes might have backfired, though. I'll tell you about it later.   Xxx’s.

Les had lots of questions and few answers. For a fleeting instant, he wondered if he was violating his own unwritten rule about privacy. Should he stop and try to forget? The temptation to read on overcame his nervousness. For a fleeting instant, his fingers hovered over the mousepad. He barely touched it to see a yet earlier entry.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I should send you flowers instead of the other way around. What a week. What serendipity that you and I should be on the same team. Then we got paired to work on the design phase. You were so arrogant to stand and take a bow for all the work I did. All you did was sit there, look at my tits and watch me create a masterpiece. What nerve. Of course, you smoothed it all over, you fast thinking, fast talking son of a bitch! As soon as we went on break, you were so solicitous, apologizing and promising to take me out to dinner, away from the crowd. I was so stupid not to see what you were up to.

Dinner was wonderful. The walk afterward was a stroke of genius: work off some of the food and alcohol, then pounce.

I never had a chance. You insisted we take the lobby side entrance, then you hit the button for the servants’ and tradesmen’s elevator, and we were on my floor. I was obliged to invite you in. I was so nervous, my hands were shaking. You made the drinks while I freshened up. While you were in the bathroom, I decided to let things go with the flow.

You are a good kisser. You took your time wooing me. When you touched my titties the first time, the shock went right to my crotch. I let you undress me and I realized I was naked, nude, clothes-less in front of another man not my husband. My first thought was, ‘Thank god I’ve had no time to eat properly since the promotion. I am not flabby. I look good and the pussy shaving idea paid off.’

You are different. You feasted on my body like a hungry tiger, or bull maybe. No part of my body you ignored. I got nips, kisses, caresses and even two hickeys before I even got to see your junk.

I returned the favor and (finally) we could lay on the bed. What unmitigated juvenile cuteness you have, suggesting you play Doctor. I reluctantly agreed and was glad. However, no doctor did what you did. Renaming body parts is not part of the G.P.’s routine. Now I have a cunt, pussy, love-hole, fuck-hole where my vagina once was. Oh yeah, and you now have a title to it? The way your lips caressed my tits and my cunt brought me to the edge, then you slowed down, driving me crazy.

No wonder I climaxed more that night than ever before. Again, thank you and good night.

Les could not read anymore. But he didn’t close the laptop.