Betty stifled a gasp. She had never seen Doug in such a rage, not even when he had taken her anally, and she was desperately afraid of what he would do.
"Hey, take it easy, old man," Harvey pleaded, "there's no need to get in a panic… nothing to get upset about!"
"Nothing to get upset about!" Doug expostulated. "I come in here and find my wife sucking your cock while you eat this other broad's cunt! And you tell me to take it easy! Why, I ought to break your Goddamned neck!"
Doug's face was white with fury and he was dancing with rage. But Harvey seemed unconcerned. Betty, her heart pounding, called softly to her husband.
"Doug, honey, please…"
"Don't you 'honey' me," he said scathingly, "you two-timing bitch. How many men have you sucked off right here in my own living room?"
"There's no need to be so vulgar, Mr. Fletcher," Harvey drawled, casually picking himself up and reaching for his clothes.
"You keep out of this," Doug threatened, "and leave me to deal with this scheming little whore my own way!"
Betty cringed pitifully under her husband's invectives. Oh God, why did he have to find her with Harvey? He'd never forgive her, never! Their whole marriage was in ruins, and it was all her fault. Oh in God's name, why did she have to jeopardize it like this?
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, you Goddamn little slut?" Doug ranted, standing over her like a menacing giant. Betty was afraid to look up, afraid to face her husband's wrath. Shame and mortification cloaked her in scarlet, and tears rushed to her eyes. And then, an unfamiliar voice rang out, startling all four people in the living room.
"Now let's hear your story, Doug!"
Doug whirled around in disbelief, his eyes blazing.
"S-Selma!" he gasped, unable to believe the evidence of his own eyes.
"Yes, it's me," the lovely blonde drawled, coming into the living room. "And now maybe, Mrs. Fletcher," she smiled at Betty, "you'd like to hear what your husband has been up to!"
"Doug, who is this woman?" Betty said uneasily, only just getting over the shock of the unexpected interruption.
"I'll tell you who I am," Selma said, casting a threatening look at Doug.
"Please, Selma," Doug begged, fear clutching at his throat.
"I'm Doug's mistress!"
"Oh no!" Betty gasped, tears trickling down her face, unable to stand the truth of what she had heard.
"Or at least I was, until three days ago," Selma amended, pleased with the result of her announcement.
"Well, well, what an interesting new development," Harvey said, looking eagerly over the voluptuously curved blonde. "I didn't know your husband was getting some nookie on the side, did you, Betty?"
"N-no, I didn't," Betty said in a small voice. She couldn't bring herself to look at her husband, let alone at his beautiful mistress.
"Yes, Doug and I have had a lot of fun these last two months," Selma went on inexorably, "but tell me one thing, Doug…"
"W-what's that?" Doug said, his face ashen.
"How come you told me your wife was frigid and unresponsive? It looks to me as if she is a real hot little number!"
Betty gasped audibly at the girl's effrontery. But it wasn't her fault. It was Doug's. Oh God, what did he tell that girl about her?
"You're right about that, Selma, believe me," Harvey interjected. "It looks as if Doug has been mistaken all along. But I must congratulate him on his taste, both in mistress and wife!"
Nobody paid any attention to Harvey's last remark. Doug was standing, his head lowered, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. Betty was huddled in a cringing heap on the floor, and Selma was staring speculatively at Harvey. Jean was calmly picking up her clothes.
"Why don't we leave the Fletchers alone for a few moments," she suggested easily, leading the way to the bedroom, "I'm sure they have a lot to talk about!"
Harvey and Selma agreed, and Doug and Betty were left alone in the living room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
For a long moment, there was complete silence. Doug made the first move.
"Betty, honey…" he began tentatively, his voice soft and hesitant.
The gentleness of his tone was too much for Betty; she dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking, her face covered with her hands. In a moment, Doug was beside her, cradling her in his arms.
"There, there, don't cry, baby… it's all right now," he soothed, pulling her to him. Somehow, the knowledge of her infidelity didn't matter quite so much when it was shown in perspective with his own misdemeanor. He knew, deep down, that he had been wrong to berate her over her transgression without mentioning his own, and was also sure that if Selma hadn't come in just then, he would not have revealed his affair to his wife.
But Selma had been the last person he expected to see. He knew she was upset over the ending of their affair, but he never dreamed that she'd go to this length to get revenge. He figured that she must have called the office and found that he had gone home early, and had decided to follow him in the hopes of a confrontation with Betty. But she was probably just as surprised as she was to find Harvey and Jean there as well.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Doug," Betty sobbed, clinging to her husband. Shivers trembled her body and she couldn't stop crying. It had been so terrible the whole encounter. First of all, the shock of being discovered by Doug when she was involved in a lascivious threesome with Harvey and Jean, and then the crowning blow of discovering that Doug had been unfaithful to her, just as she had been to him.
"And I'm sorry, too, baby," Doug said heartfeltedly. "I guess it's all my fault, really," he confessed shamefacedly. "You see, I first met Selma that day when I… when I did that terrible thing to you… that's why I was home so late!"
So that was the reason for his terrible temper, Betty thought, he was feeling guilty!
"But you see," he went on tentatively, "I never would have been interested in Selma if things had been going right between us!"
"I know," Betty agreed, "and a lot of the fault is mine, too. I see that now!"
"You do?" Doug said disbelievingly.
"Yes, and it took Harvey to point it out to me…"
"What's that son of a bitch got to do with it?" Doug raged defensively.
Betty laughed, feeling some of the strain melting away from her.
"I'm glad to see you're jealous… that you still have some feeling left for me!"
"How can you say that… if you only knew how I felt when I walked in and saw you… sucking that bastard's cock!"
"I do know," Betty insisted, "after all, Selma was pretty honest about your relationship."
It was Doug's turn to feel embarrassed.
"It's all right, darling." Betty said soothingly. "I can understand why you got involved with her. I wasn't much fun for you, frigid as I was!"
"Well, you weren't…" Doug protested, not knowing what to say.
"Don't worry, I realize now what an idiot I've been," Betty smiled. "To tell the truth, I don't know how you put up with me these two years. But all that's changed now, thank goodness – and Harvey!"
She saw her husband's face darkening and put out a restraining hand.
"Now don't go getting uptight about Harvey. Whether or not you know it, you owe him a debt of gratitude."
"What! Gratitude for…"
"For making a woman out of your childish wife!" Betty finished firmly.
"It certainly makes a man feel like shit when he finds out that his wife has to go to another guy to get satisfaction!" Doug said bitterly, turning away.
"But don't you understand, darling," Betty insisted, "for some goofy reason, I just couldn't let myself go with you. I needed the jolt of an illicit affair to set my wheels in motion."
"How's that?" Doug questioned suspiciously.