My wife and I, made it to seven years just before we divorced. In the four years before we split up she had been cuckolding me with a series of relationships that had some intensity about them. I was not a participant in any of her extramarital affairs, but I knew what was happening. The first and last involved a continuous use of filming on mobile phones and she would show me pics and videos, the videos never lasting more than 30 seconds, but sometimes two, three or four would provide a continuous view of what was happening.
We were still working together when we split and eventually divorced. I met another woman and it very nearly worked out. Then a woman arrived at work who interested me. But as the three of us were working at the same place it seemed like a stupid thing to do, until the point when it was clear that this woman was nearing the end of a limited contract. She and I went for drinks one evening and we flirted continuously. Eventually though I pretty much ruined it all by making an offer that really was not offering very much.
After that it was quite difficult to get a relationship started. She wanted me to be all lovey-dovey, and I wanted a friends with benefits deal. Eventually we both got pretty much what we wanted. She moved to a city which was a couple of hours away, and we both made the effort to see one another. And she, being extrovert and friendly with many others in the workplace, kept in touch with a number of my work colleagues, including my ex. She also made the extra effort with my son, to make sure that he was included and happy to be with us when she was visiting me.
Her new home was a small self contained flat with terrace in the basement of a very modern house built in a very affluent suburb of her town. The owner lived above in a huge apartment and above him were two more flats, one for his sons and the other rented to a Portuguese couple. The owner, another extrovert, was the sort of guy to work hard and play hard. The moment I met him I wondered why he and my girl-friend were not making the effort to become a couple. They seemed to suit one-another perfectly. He loved to drink and would come visit the two of us some evenings, increasing our wine consumption by at least one bottle of red if not three. He was fun, but he was loud, and he smelt unpleasantly ripe to me, but not to her.
She continuously assured me that she had no interest in him. I wished that she did really, because much as I liked her, I never loved her and I could see that they would make a much better match. He flirted with her, and she with both of us, but always more with me. Of course, I could never know what happened each evening when we were apart, but if there was anything happening it was not going to stop our relationship.
And then one day, or rather one weekend, my wife and my son visited her for the start of the weekend. I was away elsewhere that particular weekend, and I was not going to stop the two of them meeting. I had never taken my son to visit her though so that was new for him. As usual, she had prepared food, so they ate in. Before this though, they send me a selfie of the three of them. A little later there was a selfie with the three of them joined by the owner of the place, and a short message saying that they were going up to his apartment.