Innocent Sins Ch 02

As it turned out, I was the one who was surprised that Heather wasn't home when I made it back early from the airport. It was Saturday, and she had the day off, and she'd playfully told me yesterday that she simply planned to mope around the house today, missing me. Disappointed she wasn't doing just that, I tossed my keys onto the sofa and saw the message light flashing on the answering machine. I hit PLAY as I began to tug my tie and jacket off, then stilled when I heard my wife's sweet voice talking.

"...give it a second and the machine will cut off," she was saying, then there was a slight pause. "OK, it beeped. What do you want, Ty?"

"Just wondered if you'd heard from Jake yet, baby."

"Of course I have. He'll be home tomorrow," she said, sounding almost defensive, desperate.

I realized she and Ty had been recorded, thinking the machine had cut off when she'd picked up. Curious, I walked over to the machine, a frown on my face as I listened to the unexpected conversation.

"So why don't you come over tonight?" the black man asked in a voice I didn't care for at all.

"I told you, Ty, that can never happen again. It's been a nice week, but it's over. It was a mistake. I love my husband."

What the hell? I leaned over the machine, my jaw clenching with the strain of holding back my shock. What the hell did Heather mean, it could never happen again?

"Once is a mistake, baby. We've fucked each other, what?, three, four times now? It's a little too late to be having an attack of conscience, sweetheart. You're hooked on my black cock and can't get enough. Admit it."

"Shut up."

"Why don't I come over there instead then. I'll even cook you dinner before taking you to bed this time."

The machine suddenly stopped recording, and I wasn't sure if she'd hung up on Ty or what. All I knew was that my beloved wife, the woman I'd loved faithfully, hopelessly for the past nine years, was cheating on me. And with a black man!

I fell heavily back onto the sofa and realized I was shaking. With anger. From shock. From...everything. It wasn't that I was necessarily a racist, not anymore than the average person. I had played college football and most of my best friends on the team had been black, for crying out loud. Truth was, I would have been pretty pissed off if my wife was fucking a white guy too.

I simply couldn't believe I'd heard what I had. Then again, I tried to reason, I could have misinterpreted what I'd heard. Yeah, right. I got up, hit rewind and replayed the message until I heard Ty's words again: "We've fucked each other, what?, three, four times now?" There was no misinterpreting that statement.

Anger grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. That bitch! Almost without thought, I bounded up the stairs and began packing the rest of my bags. Then I thought better of that decision and began packing hers instead. This was my home, dammit. I wouldn't be driven out. She'd made her bed somewhere else. Let her go lie in it like the whore she apparently was.

Disbelief erased the anger as I wondered if I'd ever known her at all. I realized my hands were shaking as I fumbled through the clothes in the closet, thinking about the years after we were first married. She'd seemed so innocent...so untouched. Then she'd gotten the job at Cox, Jordan and Franklin and Heather had really come out of her shell then. Maybe she'd been cheating even then? Lord knows I'd been petrified I'd lose her to someone else. But Heather had always smiled and sworn I had nothing to worry about. It was me she loved. She would never, ever think of being unfaithful to me, she'd sworn.

Had she been lying even then? How many times had she cuckolded me, I wondered. How many men? Heather had been a virgin when we'd met, that much I knew. But she was such a passionate creature, so loving in bed, that I could almost credit that I hadn't been enough to satisfy her. But why the hell hadn't she come to me, I wondered. Why hadn't she wanted a divorce? Marriage counseling? Why did she have to go and drag my heart through the mud while she played around on the side? We'd had discussions on infidelity before, and we'd agreed wholeheartedly that cheating was just one of those things neither of us would ever be able to forgive. We'd sworn it would never be an issue between us. Then again, I suppose that's what most couples think until it actually happens to them.

Grief was the next emotion to overwhelm me. I felt tears threatening to escape and found I couldn't hold them back. Dammit! Heather was my entire life. What would I do without her? God, I was so miserable! I lifted my head and my eyes fell on the photo of me and Heather that she insisted on keeping on her side of the bed, always. I stared at the image of the lovely brunette kneeling behind me, her arms wrapped lovingly around my shoulders, and felt the tears flow.

Almost half an hour and three shots of whiskey later, I began to wonder where Heather was now. Probably with Ty, I figured, then decided I needed to see for myself. I wiped away the tears - god, I hadn't cried in years, not since my father's funeral - and began to pick myself up. I was stronger than this, dammit! I grabbed my keys and drove over to Ty's new house. Sure enough, Heather's grey BMW sat in the driveway.

I sat in the car, trying to decide what to do. I'm not proud to admit it, but if I'd had my gun with me, I would have used it...on Ty, then Heather probably, and most definitely on myself. Infidelity, I've learned, can do crazy things to a person's mind, if you really love the one who has been unfaithful to you. As it was, I had plans to use my fists on Ty, even if the black man outweighed me by at least thirty pounds and a few inches. He might be a big sonofabitch, but I had years of military training on my side. I knew how to take a man down with a simple press of my thumb on the right nerve. Simmering with anger again, I climbed out of the car and walked to the front of the house. Glancing around, I saw that hardly any neighbors cars were home, so I carefully walked to the back of the house where I knew the bedroom was.

Instead I got a surpise as I rounded the corner and pulled back behind some bushes, spying my wife and the black man together in the pool. Heather had her back to Ty, who was rubbing her shoulders and murmuring something in her ear, as if he were trying to convince her of something. I stared in disbelief as Heather slowly turned to face Ty... and kissed him passionately!

From that point, it was like watching a bad car wreck. I didn't want to watch, but neither could I look away. I needed to see with my own eyes just how far she was letting another man go. Heather wrapped her arms around the black man's shoulders and didn't protest when Ty lifted her by her ass and sat her on the edge of the pool. Ty's hands were everywhere, and Heather wasn't stopping him. She arched her back and moaned when he removed her bikini top, then leaned over to taste her large breasts with his thick, black lips.

Still licking around her nipples, Ty tilted Heather back and tugged off her bikini bottoms, then fidgeted beneath the water with one hand as he removed his own swimming trunks. I watched, half aroused, half horrified, as a completely naked, fully erect Ty climbed out of the pool and guided Heather to lay on a towel. My god! I realized. Ty's cock was huge! I was pretty big, almost nine inches, but he had to be at least ten and a half, and thicker. With barely no prompting from the black man, Heather soon had the head of Ty's monstrous, hard cock in her mouth, sucking it with all her might as Ty maneuvered himself around to noisily slurp at her cunt.

After a few minutes of sixty-nining, Ty got up and collected cushions off the lawn furniture, which he tossed onto the deck. He then rolled Heather onto her stomach, then shifted some pillows around behind her. I thought he was going to fuck her doggystyle, but I was wrong. Turning her over onto her back again, he propped her hips up with the extra cushions and then knelt right up against her ass. I knew what was coming next, and as much as I wanted to stop it, I couldn't. Heather was obviously enjoying what Ty was doing, but I was still praying that she would come to her senses and turn the other man away before he actually penetrated what, until now, had been mine and mine alone.

But that didn't happen. Instead, Heather reached up for Ty and pulled him down to her in a sexy, eating kind of kiss that made me sick as I watched. By now, Heather's legs were wide-spread and Ty was in position with his monster-cock poised at the entrance to my wife's obviously wet cunt. I gasped for my wife, watching Ty slowly work the giant rod into her stretched-open pussy. Heather was moaning and grunting, clawing at Ty's back with her tiny hands. Steady, oh, so steady, Ty kept up his invasion of her hungry cunt. Please, I begged silently, please tell him to stop. Please scream in pain, or yell for help!

But she didn't. Sooner than I thought possible, it looked like Ty had his entire length buried in my wife. She had taken it all! They laid still together for a few minutes, then Ty began a rhythm of slow thrusting before he began to pound that big cock in and out of Heather's cunt with all of his energy. He lifted his hips away until he was almost out and then slammed back down into her. Even from so far away, I could hear her wet cunt slurping loudly as it surrendered to Ty's assault. Then, his tempo and power increased and Heather went completely wild. She was delirious with lust and passion, scraping his back with her nails, pulling his ass deeper between her legs. She was fucking him like a bitch in heat, and I was hurt beyond belief because, in the six years we'd been married, she'd never once reacted that way with me.

I couldn't watch anymore, but I wanted Heather to know I knew the truth. There were some gardening tools where I stood, and I wrapped my hands around the shovel leaning against the house. I was so angry it took little effort to step on the end, breaking the scooper off until I held a large, broken stick in my hand. I stepped out from behind my hiding place just as they both started to come. It wasn't slow or gentle either. Heather came with a scream and almost-pained moans and gasps. Again and again, she clenched her arms and legs around Ty's pistoning black body. Finally, with a deep grunt, Ty tightened his asscheeks and curled his toes as he shot his cum into my wife's womb. My god. She wasn't on the pill, and Ty sure as hell hadn't used a condom!

Heather saw me first, and screamed, trying to pull away and seek covering. Ty scrambled away, his cock pulling out of her pussy with a loud plop even as he swore, "What the fu--Jake! What are you doing here, man?"

"Oh Jake!" Heather sobbed, crying uncontrollably as she begged me to give her a chance to explain. I completely ignored her as I reared up toward Ty and swung the stick hard into the black man's gut. Not enough to do serious damage, but enough to leave a bruise and make me feel better at least. Heather screamed as Ty fell to the ground, winded more than anything. She shrank back in fear as I turned toward her, but I had no plans to harm her. No matter how much of a whore she was to me at that moment, I would never lay a finger on any woman. Tossing the ruined shovel to the ground, I lifted my hand and twisted my wedding ring off my finger. Throwing it at her as if were a piece of grabage that needed to be taken out, I told her in a calm, flat voice, "I want you out of the house when I get home tomorrow. Don't wait on me and try to explain. Don't ever try to call either. I don't want to see or hear from you again."

It was the hardest, and yet the easiest, thing I'd ever done in my life. Without another word, I turned and walked away, the sound of Heather's hysterical sobbing in my ears as I climbed into my car and drove away.

***

The next few days were a blur. I spent the night at a motel, giving Heather enough time to gather her things and leave before I returned to the house. I half expected, half hoped, that she'd still be there, waiting to talk to me and try to work things out, but she wasn't. Her things were gone as if she'd never even lived there at all. I wondered how long it had taken her to run to Ty, and if they were in bed together right now, even as my life fell apart around me.

The images that sprang to mind were enough to haunt me over the next week. I tried to work, but I couldn't. I tried to sleep but stayed awake most nights, remembering the look on Heather's face as Ty pounded into her with his huge cock. I started drinking a lot more than was advisable, just to dull the pain. And then six nights after she'd moved out, I checked my e-mail and saw that I had a message from my wife. I almost deleted it, but perverse curiosity got the better of me. I opened the e-mail and read:

Dear Jake,

I know you said you never wanted to hear from me again, but you have to let me explain. I love you! I have always loved you, and only you, though I know you must find that hard to believe right now. No matter what you think, you mustn't forget that.

I know you must be wondering how long I've been sleeping with Ty, but it isn't what you think. I never told you before, but even before you and I ever met in college, Ty showed a lot of interest in me, and I was flattered. I might have caved in and dated him if I hadn't met and fallen in love with you first. I never gave him a second thought until he showed up in my life a couple of months ago.

I knew Ty wanted to sleep with me, but I arrogantly felt that I could handle the attraction between us. I loved you and I had no intention of ever being unfaithful to you. But then you had to go away on that business trip, and I was missing you so much. I know it's hardly any excuse, but I have to say curiosity got the better of me after listening to Jessica go on and on about what wonderful lovers black men were. You are the only man I had ever been with, and she told me I should at least try another man, just once, for comparison. You were the only man I wanted, but Ty....Ty just happened. I swore it would never happen again, but every time I turned around, Ty was there and you weren't.

I can't explain why I did the things I did with him after that. I had every intention of telling him it could never happen again on that day before you found us. But before I knew it, I was being seduced again, and I couldn't stop it. But I swear, Jake, it will never happen again. Ty has no hold over me now. I haven't seen him since that day you found us. The expression, oh god, the hurt in your eyes still has the power to crucify me, Jake.

I'm staying at my sister's house until I hear from you...that is, if I hear from you. God, I hope you're reading this and can someday forgive me for what I've done to us. Just remember that I love you. Please call me...or write and let me know you're OK.

Love always, Heather

Bitch! Did she think it was so easy, to admit what she'd done and apologize and then we'd be back together? I decided to let her stew, hoping to cause her at least one-tenth of the pain I was feeling; I hit the delete button and shut off the computer without replying. The next day, there was no new note from my wife. I was so torn up inside, I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted to believe her, to forgive her, but another part didn't think it was even possible.

A few days later, I finally decided to write back and let her know I thought we should talk about a legal seperation, or possibly a divorce. I wasn't sure I wanted either one, but I hoped just the sight of the words would hurt her. With hindsight, I have never stayed angry over something so long, but the hurt and pain I was feeling kept festering inside me until all I wanted to do was lash out, at everyone around me. I hadn't talked to anyone else about my marital problems - hell, I was too embarassed to. I thought about calling one of my brothers or sisters, but in the end, I didn't want them to know what an obviously bad husband I had been to cause Heather to seek out another man. Still, I figured I needed to talk to someone soon, even if that someone was Heather. With a very brief, short e-mail, I asked her to come to the house that night for dinner. Not even an hour after I sent the message, I checked my in-box and found a response from her; she was so damn grateful that I was willing to meet with her and offered to bring Chinese so we wouldn't have to cook.

When she arrived that night, she was dressed very demurely in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back with little makeup on. She looked as tired as I felt, and she'd lost weight since I'd last seen her. I was perversely glad that she'd seemingly been suffering as much as I had. It was something of a shock to me to suddenly realize we'd gone almost two weeks without even saying a word to the other one.

As we sat down to eat, I found that I couldn't stand looking at her anymore. Everytime I did, I was overcome by such a shocking sense of anger, I was tempted to strike a woman for the first time in my life. What was this rage inside of me, making me feel things I would have never thought possible before? How could there actually be men out there who enjoyed, even encouraged, being cuckolded? Didn't they love their wives? Didn't it make them crazy thinking of their wife, their woman, being loved by another man? The thoughts created a knot in my chest, and I found I couldn't say a word to her either. Finally, she grew tired of the silence and begged, "Jake..?"

"I need to know why," I barked out, looking at her harshly. "Why?" I repeated again with emphasis.

"I-I explained in my e-mail...please Jake, can't we just put this behind us and try to work on getting past it?"

"How can I get past it when I'll always be wondering what happened...how many times...where? But mostly, why, Heather? Why did you do this to us? I loved you more than anything."

"Loved, Jake? As in past tense?" Tears were running down her face as she admitted, "I don't know why. It just happened. And....it only happened a few times. I never took him to our bed, Jake, you have to believe me. I would never do that to you."

"You let him fuck you without a condom on," I said angrily. "What else did you let him do?" I demanded cruelly. "I bet you let him screw your ass too, didn't you? Didn't you, you slut!"

Heather went pale, her eyes giving me the truth, that she had given the black man her virgin ass, and said tearfully, "I'm so sorry, Jake."

I was still quite shocked, though hardly surprised. "Well, I'm not very reassured," I told her harshly. "Quite frankly, I don't think I could ever trust you again, Heather. Was Ty the first, or have there been others behind my back?"

"No, Jake, never!" she insisted frantically. "It was only Ty...and it's not what you think. Please Jake. I know you're upset--"

"Upset?" I scoffed. "If you had caught me in bed with another woman, would you just be upset, Heather? I fucking hope not!" I could see that she'd never put herself in my shoes and imagined how she'd feel if our roles were reversed. I could see she was thinking about it now, and the look on her face was one of absolute devastation, so I said, "I think we'd better start talking about how we're going to divide things, unless you'd rather let our lawyers handle it?"

That set her off into sobs, and I somehow waited patiently for her to calm down long enough to say to me, "That's it then? You want a divorce?"

"I don't see any other way."

She didn't stay long after that, as if she respected my decision and was resigned to living with it. Maybe, just maybe, she couldn't stay any longer because she didn't want me to see her fall completely apart. Who knew? Still, I couldn't bring myself to visit a lawyer and decided I was in no hurry to end my marriage, even though I didn't care to work things out either. Things started to get a little more back to normal - as much as possible anyway - over the next week or two. I buried myself in my work and when my friends and colleagues realized that Heather and I were separated, they became quietly supportive, inviting me to dinners and parties so I wouldn't be so alone.