I spent the next hour drinking coffee and trying to sober up. When I got home she was indeed asleep, and stayed that way as I slipped into bed. I was mentally exhausted, not to mention still a little drunk, and fell asleep immediately. The next thing I knew, the alarm was going off.

I managed to pry my eyes open and roll over to see if Nancy was there. She was; lying on her back, with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

"Good morning, Babe, did the guys stay long after I left last night?"

"Oh, yes, they stayed and played for quite a while."

"I'm sorry I went off and left you. I hope it wasn't a problem."

"No, they were ... very good."

That seemed like a strange thing for her to say. Surely they must at least have been pestering her, and she wouldn't have called that being good. Unless ... maybe she meant they were very good in bed. What did she say before that? "Stayed and played," I think. I know she didn't say, "played poker." I was beginning to get a pretty strong feeling that they were playing something else.

Before I could figure out what to say next, Nancy sat up in bed and said, "We'd better get going. It's a work day."

I had wondered what, if anything, she might be wearing. There were no clues there, though; she had on an old nightgown she often wears. When I got into the bathroom I checked the laundry basket. There were the clothes she was wearing last night, and there were no cum stains in the panties. I sniffed the crotch, but couldn't smell anything. Well, after all, they'd had all night to air out. I should have checked before I went to bed.

Really, the only things I had to go on were her strange words when we woke up, and a sort of quiet distance I could feel. 'What the hell,' I told myself, 'given what I did a week ago I have no business prying.' I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind when I got to work, but it kept tickling somewhere back in my subconscious all day.

That night during dinner Nancy was still being awfully quiet and reserved. She stopped me as I started to get up from the table.

"Dick, we need to talk about something."

"Sure, Nan, what?"

"Look, I know you like to play poker with the guys, and I don't want to take that away from you, but I don't think you should invite them back here again."

"Oh, no, Nancy, so there was a problem last night! I'm so sorry!"

"No, it wasn't a problem, exactly, but it was a bit ... uncomfortable."

"Oh, God, I should have realized. I can see that it must have been very uncomfortable for you."

"Oh, that's not the word, either. I wasn't actually uncomfortable. Really, I, I had a very good time, and they were ... very good to me. What I mean is that I think it would be uncomfortable next time if ... well, if all four of you were here and I was here too."

Aha! She's admitting it.

I think I'll put some pressure on, and see if I can get a confession out of her. Should I twist the screw and ask if she would be uncomfortable if I wasn't here? No, I'll give her a way out instead.