Up to that point, I had the people in my life right where I wanted them. I was cheating on the man I was having an affair with and stabbing my close friend in the back. Neither of them suspected a thing.

It would never occur to Jimmy that the mistress he made scream his name three times a week would seek another man in her life. Dumb sexy geezer. It gave me such a thrill to throw smoldering glances at Henry whenever Jimmy's back was turned. I think he liked it as well.

As for Sandy, she trusted me completely. The stupid girl had always thought others cared about her feelings. I generally tuned her out when she whined about her relationship woes. But my ears perked right up when she shared what Henry enjoyed in bed. I made damn sure to do it better than she. I knew I did it better because he told me I did.

I must admit that Henry was a far superior lover to Jimmy. Jimmy was excellent for the in-out, but that's about it. He adored my blowjobs, but never gave back. I don't think there's anything Henry and I didn't do.

One night Henry and I lip locked in a steamy kiss once he pried his head from between my legs. Then he dropped a bomb: "I'm leaving Sandy, I just want you."

"Whoa, whoa. You're a married man!" I guffawed. "I have no interest in doing all that wifely shit."

"No, I mean I want you to be my only mistress. Sandy's going to prepare a big shipment I have going out tomorrow. That'll be the last time I see her. I love you, Nickie. I'll call you after I take Lois to the airport."

How well that worked out. I spent the next night angry since he never called me. Then spit out my coffee when I saw the next morning's headline. Henry, Sandy, and everyone else involved with that shipment had been hauled in by the narcs. At first I was relieved that I hadn't been roped into that. But knowing Henry, he would finagle his way out on bail. Then what?

I had the same empty feeling I had that day at the bar right before I fucked Henry in his car. I was doing nothing with my life but helping gangsters get off and betraying other women, sometimes my own friends. I was only 25, not even close to old maid status. Of course I was no virgin by anyone's definition, but I could still act innocently enough to snatch a stuffed-shirt man my parents would approve of. All I knew was I wanted to feel safe.

So that's what I did. But not before talking to Henry one last time. I knew that despite fucking me and Sandy and God knows who else, he loved his wife. So I advised him to get into the witness protection program to protect her and their daughters.

That was my last conversation with anyone from "the life." I changed my name and got a job as a secretary at a small firm in the Midwest. I even started going to church every Sunday. That's where I met my husband. He works a steady, eventless 9-to-5 job that keeps us middle class. I quit my job after we got married and now I stay home with our three kids.

In case you're wondering, we've never moved beyond the missionary position. My husband thinks he's a good lover. He doesn't know that I only cum because I'm imagining sucking off Jimmy Conway, or riding Henry Hill in the back of his car. My husband has no idea how I lived before I moved to Buttfuck Nowhere, Iowa. And I have no intention of telling him. The absent-minded bastard thinks he popped my cherry on our wedding night!

But I love him. He makes me feel safe. With him, I don't worry that someone from the old days will come for revenge.

I started writing this after I got a threatening phone call from New York. If you're reading this now, you must be a police detective trying to figure out why a New York gangster shot a harmless Midwestern housewife in the face.