Mister Jack Miller Ch 01

Okay, I've been reading literotica for over two and a half years now, and up until today, I've only been a spectator.

But I've had some stories rolling around in my head for the longest time, so I thought I might venture to put one up and see how it is received. If y'all like it, I'll see if I can get more out of my head and onto the site. If not, I'll be happy enough to go back to spectating.

By the way, as a way of warning: If you are one of those readers who don't have the patience for a well-developed plot, and who hate it when stories don't get to the sex soon enough, let me tell you right now you are going to be sorely disappointed. This story is full of characterization, and buildup, and were it not so I probably would not have written it, let alone submitted it. So, forewarned is forearmed...therefore...without further ado...here goes...

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"A Ton of Bricks."

I'd heard the expression before, but I'd never, until that day, really understood what it meant, never really felt the weight of a ton of bricks on me until that day. I suppose I should have seen it coming. Looking back, there were all of those signs which, at the time, I just put down to bumps in the road of an otherwise ideal marriage, but now I see as danger signs that I missed on the way to that crashing collision. Sitting there, in the public park restroom, I cried. Silently, so as not to be heard, I thought, but I cried a river...

Let me go back to earlier that day. It was the first day of August, and it promised to be as scorcher. My wife Wendy and I (I'm Jack) had come to the company picnic as we had done for so many years before, except this time was the first time since she had been named the VP of Marketing for the company. I arrived at the park with her, proud to be associated with this new executive, and ready to have a nice time chatting with our mutual friends, eating barbecued ribs, and frolicking in the summer sun. I was a little concerned that she had decided to dress in such a revealing manner, but then she had, over the course of the last few months, begun to dress a little more daring each day, sometimes bordering on "slutty." The fact that there didn't seem to be a corresponding increase in passion in our own bedroom didn't really click with me until a little later on, though, so I just chalked it up to maybe this was her little mid-life crisis going on. So the too-small bikini-top and the ass-revealing short shorts were her uniform for the day, while I stuck with the baggy Bermudas and the Havana shirt.

Upon arrival, I started to catch up with some of her colleagues that I hadn't seen in a while, like Bert from the warehouse, who used to live on our street, and Charlie, the number one sales guy who I would go fishing with on occasion, and of course, Wendy's best friend and Assistant VP Donna, who was looking refreshingly casual in her light sundress and floppy straw hat, also wearing a light wrist-brace from a fall she'd taken a few days earlier. There was something in the way Donna looked at me that day that made me feel a little sad, but I wasn't quite sure what to make of it, and chalked it up to the fact that she was in a little pain from her wrist injury.

We ate, we had a few beers, the kids who came played the usual three-legged races and water-balloon toss. It wasn't until about two hours into the proceedings that I noticed that I hadn't seen Wendy in a while. I looked around and noticed that she had joined a group of her Marketing colleagues in an impromptu softball game against the Sales department. I noticed that she was up to bat, but appeared to be having trouble, and Greg, one of the young men on her marketing staff, was standing behind her, his arms around her, showing her how to hold the bat. Nothing blatantly suggestive to my eyes, she's just bonding with her staff, I thought. Meantime, the chili dog, the plate of ribs, and the three cups of beer had started to take their toll, so I headed off to the park restroom to take care of nature's call.

As I stepped toward the entrance to the Men's side of the park restroom, I noticed Donna and Lisa, a gal from Accounting, also walking towards the Women's side of the restroom, but they didn't see me. I suppose that if they had, I might not have heard what I heard in the next few moments, but I did, and I can't change it now.

I walked into the stall, closed the door (as much as it could be closed for a public park restroom stall door), and did my best to wipe off the seat with a piece of toilet paper, and started to do my business. Now, if you've ever been in one of these public park restrooms, you know that the wall that separates the men's side from the women's side usually doesn't go all the way to the ceiling. In this case, there was a gap of about a foot and a half between the top of the dividing wall and the ceiling that was covered only by a ventilation grate. In other words, it was of such a construction that if anyone was talking in the other restroom, it would be rather easy to hear whatever was said, even if they were whispering. To make a long story short, I overheard the following conversation between Donna and Lisa:

Lisa: "It's absolutely shameless the way she's flirting with those young...BOYS...out there when Jack is right there, probably thinking nothing but the best of her...It's almost like she's advertising or something..."

Donna: "Lisa, I think she IS...in fact, I KNOW she is..."

Lisa: "What do you mean? How do you KNOW? You got some dirt you're holding back from me? Give over, girlfriend!...what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

And that's when the ton of bricks was picked up by the crane and positioned over my bathroom stall, ready to be released by Donna's next words...

Donna: "Well, I'm really not sure I should even be saying this, but I know I can trust you, but if this ever got to Jack, he'd be devastated, and if this ever got to Mr. Chalmers (our CEO), a lot of people would get fired in a heartbeat..."

Lisa: "Alright, now I HAVE to know..."

Donna: "Okay, it's like this..."

At this point, I was finished with my business, and part of me wanted to stay ignorant and just run out of there and pretend that there was nothing to be said that would "devastate" me, but another part of me HAD to hear this, if it had any bearing on the future of my marriage, so I did my best to be as quiet as a mouse, and listened closely...

Donna: "You remember Thursday, when I had that date with Tim? Well, I had been running late that afternoon, and I needed to get home quick so I could change, and I had forgotten my purse in my office. I was going to just not worry about it and pick it up when I came to work the next morning. But when I got home from that disaster of a date, I was in the kitchen making myself a cup of tea. I ended up slipping on a puddle of water in the kitchen like I told you about. Well, it hurt too bad to put off dealing with it, so I decided to drive to the urgent care center. But I had to go into the office first to get my purse because it had my medical card and my driver's license in it.

"Anyhow, I pull into the parking lot and I notice that there's a few cars parked outside. I recognized a couple of them, one of them being Wendy's SUV. So I figured they were working late AGAIN, and then I noticed light coming out through the closed blinds of the conference room.

"So anyway, I key myself into the building and head toward my office, but I have to pass the conference room to get there. As I got closer, I heard some odd music and some weird noises coming from the conference room. I was going to open the door, but then I noticed that one of the blinds wasn't quite set in place, so I tiptoed over and peeked through the gap...

"I couldn't believe it. I didn't know whether to scream, or to throw up, or to faint, or to run, or what. I look in and I see Wendy lying on her back on top of that big table in the conference room. She's stark naked with her arms and legs spread wide. And that's not all. Kyle and Jeremy and Greg were in there too. And they were naked, too. And man, oh, man, this girl was gettin' it from every angle in every hole and then some. She was suckin', she was getting fucked in the pussy and the ass, she was jacking. And, girl let me tell you, she was in charge, orderin' them boys around like she was a dominatrix or somethin'...and the words that were comin' out of this woman's mouth I never heard before in my life! And there was this one point when I saw her face...She didn't see me because I was still in the dark hallway, but there was this look on her face...it wasn't lust or anything like that...it scared me, Lisa...it was...EVIL...like she was possessed or something...I was so scared...I ran to my office, grabbed my purse and got out of there so fast it would make your head spin. That's why I didn't come to work yesterday, not because of the sprain, that's nothing...but because I didn't know if I could look her in the eye after what I saw...that's why I almost didn't come today, too...but I guess I just wanted to see Jack and see if he was okay or something...I don't know...but that's it."

As you can imagine, I couldn't believe it either. I went from shock to disgust to denial to acceptance to grief all in the space of five minutes...I WAS devastated. Donna had been right about that...but now what?

Lisa: "Well, that would explain what I had heard in the coffee room yesterday morning. I walked in there just as Kyle and Greg were leaving and the last thing I heard them say was, 'Just call her Wide Open Wendy!' and then they laughed like the idiots they are till they saw me...Damn, girl...what do you think you should do now?"

Donna: "I don't know, but I've been trying to decide if I should tell Jack or not."

Well, if she'd known, that would have been ONE thing she didn't have to fret about. But I was stricken, and that ton of bricks had come crashing down on me like each individual brick had my name on it. I must have sobbed audibly, because I suddenly heard Donna say, "Did you hear that? We'd better get back before we're missed, Lisa..."

I heard them wash up and I washed up too...I walked slowly out of the restroom, and watched as Donna and Lisa began to walk toward the picnic group. As if she knew I was there, I saw Donna slowly turn her head and look in my direction. I just stood there, tears streaming down my face, frozen to the spot. She gave me the most complete look of sympathy that she could without giving herself away to Lisa or anyone else, then turned around and faced the company crowd. So I knew two things. One was that our marriage meant nothing to Wendy anymore. Two was that Donna was there, and on my side. I knew she would help. I could feel it.

I put on the best face I could for the rest of the afternoon, trying to pay as little attention to Wendy as I could, because her once-innocent baseball troubles now became foreplay for her little marketing-minion sex-slaves. But now, I had to be trying to decide what I should do next. It was clear that as things had been described, should they be proven true, I would want a divorce, and soon. But I had to make sure they were true before I did anything else. Donna and I had a brief moment of whispered conversation out of sight of both Wendy and Lisa, where, after she had confirmed that I'd heard everything and apologized profusely for the fact that I'd heard, she then told me to call her sometime next week if I wanted to talk about it.

Well, I did call her, and no, I didn't want to talk about it, but I had to do something. I thought about confronting Wendy, but she had been displaying a bit of a temper lately (either out of guilt or contempt I wasn't entirely sure), and I didn't want to start something until I had absolute proof and was prepared for the next several steps. So the next day, Sunday, I told Wendy I was going shopping for fishing supplies (which was partially true, since Charlie and I had made a tentative date for a fishing expedition in a few weeks). But instead of limiting myself to the tackle shop, I also headed for the audio-visual store, and inquired as to what kind of hidden-camera technology they had available. After some perusal and consultation with a very knowledgeable pair of clerks, I purchased five hidden cameras, and five small video-cassette recorders, and enough wiring to hook everything up in both our home and in Wendy's workplace.

Monday morning, first thing, I called Donna at her office, and after we had shared a few tears together, I told her of my plan. She was a little reluctant at first, but when I reassured her that I would take full responsibility for whatever might happen as a result of my actions, AND do whatever I could to make sure she was held blameless in whatever might occur, she was in. Wendy had been scheduled to go to a conference that Tuesday, and would be gone until Friday, so that gave us three nights to put our plan into action.

Wendy flew out on Tuesday morning. I dropped her off at the airport where her boys were waiting for her. Of course, she was dressed in "that" way, and it was all those boys could do to keep their hands off her and to keep their all-too-obvious boners hidden from me. I gave Wendy a friendly kiss on the cheek and wished her good luck. As I drove away I glanced into the rear-view mirror and noticed Jeremy giving her ass a hard squeeze, and said quietly to myself, "Okay, darling, if that's the way you want it..."

When everyone had left the office for the day, Donna called me and I drove over. We spent the next several hours setting up the hidden cameras, two in the large conference room where Wendy had been witnessed on Thursday, and another in her office. The cameras had zoom and pan capabilities and built-in super-sensitive microphones. We first made sure that none of the cameras were visible at first--or second--glance, then tested out everything, and then we hooked up the VCR's, which we hid in a cabinet in Donna's office. I had also purchased a remote control device which could receive signals from a cell phone, so that I could not only turn the VCR's on and off by simply dialing a number, but I could see what the cameras were seeing on my wireless color PDA device.

When everything was done and set up, I announced to Donna that it was time to go home and do the same thing. She asked if she could help with that too, and I originally said I didn't think it was a very good idea, but she argued that since she'd already become an expert with all the wiring, it made sense for me to get her help, so I assented. She followed me home, and we worked well into the night hooking up one of the remaining two cameras in the bedroom, and the other in the living room, once again checking all the circuits and ensuring full functionality.

Proud of our work, when all was said and done, we exchanged a friendly handshake. there was a moment there at the end of things where she looked up into my eyes and gave me a look that said she was truly willing to help me out in EVERY conceivable way. To be quite honest, if things had been as clear as they turned out to be later on, I probably would have thrown her down on the bed right then and there and done what we both wanted to do deep down, but I knew that if I fell to this temptation now, it could conceivably ruin the whole plan, so I gave her a warm, yet promising hug, and kissed her cheek, and she immediately understood where I was at. We shared a cup of coffee, and she drove home.

I spent the next two days hoping against hope that it was all for naught and that it was someone else Donna had seen that night and not my Wendy, or that somehow we could work something out. But to tell you the truth, I was not very hopeful. The night before she was to return home, I bought a soft-core porn magazine (which I hadn't done since high school) and masturbated to images of airbrushed women with their hands between their legs so that I could at least give myself some release from the tension that I hadn't realized (until the hug with Donna) that I needed...

Needless to say, I did my best to pretend everything was normal when she returned. The fact that she didn't even hint that she was desirous of any sexual attentions when she returned Thursday morning led me immediately to believe that she had had more than her share during her trip. Also she told me that because of her absence from the office during the week, she would have to work late that night. I said okay, trying to disguise the tears welling up in my eyes, and told her not to work too hard. "Don't worry about me, I'll be ju-ust fine," she cackled as she slipped out of the door.

I waited until about when I assumed everyone would be out of the office, then dialed up my PDA to spy on my own wife. Even the thought that that's what I was doing disgusted me, but I just HAD to know. I looked and saw that she was working at her desk. Perfectly innocent, her straight brown hair impeccably brushed, her full lips every bit as sensuous as ever. I regained a little bit of hope. Her phone rang and she picked it up. The microphone couldn't pick up what the person on the other end of the phone was saying, but her response told me everything I needed to hear at that point: "So the coast is clear? Good. I'll be right there, and DON'T do anything until I get there!" That was my cue, I thought, so I dialed in the code to switch the camera view to the Conference room, and dialed another to start recording everything.

I watched as the view switched to the large room with the big marble table, where Jeremy and Greg were waiting, naked and standing side-by-side with their hands folded in front of them. Kyle appeared shortly thereafter, stripped off his clothes, and took up his place next to the other two. There they stood until the door opened again, and, locking it behind her, there stood my wife of seventeen years, who was very methodically removing her clothes and folding them up neatly and draping them over one of the office chairs. Then, as she hopped up on the table and laid back with her knees up and her legs spread wide open, she started to masturbate. As she dug two fingers into her pussy and worked her clit over with the fingers of her other hand, she began to chastise them for not doing better work at their conference. But then she gave Greg congratulations for landing a big customer on the last day. "Just for that, Greggy-boy, you get to fuck my ass first. And remember what a privilege this is. I don't even let my wimp of a husband do this to me." As if the subject had ever come up. In other circumstances, I might have given it a try, but now the thought of it just made me nauseous. "You two," she said, pointing to the others, "Kyle, you come and grease up my ass, and Jeremy, you start lubing Greg's dick. Then I want both of you to take your dicks out and start jacking them while you watch us. I want you to be ready to shoot your come on my face when I start coming. And don't you dare come before I do, Kyle, or we get to clamp those stupid-ass balls of yours like we did back at the hotel."

Then I saw it. The look on her face when Kyle first slipped his KY-covered middle finger into her ass. I had heard that look described by Donna in the bathroom that day. Not lust, not passion, not even mischief. But evil, pure and simple. Like she knew she was doing this to herself, doing it to me, doing it to us, wanting to cuckold me, to make me suffer. I just couldn't bring myself to watch any more. It was all true. She was a cum-slut, and a power-mad, evil one at that. I bit my lip, turned off the PDA, making sure that the video recorder was still running, stopped off at the wet bar for a stiff whiskey, and went to bed. When she returned long after midnight, I gave her an obligatory kiss, but when she rolled over and I could both see and smell traces of cum in her hair, I had to stop myself from vomiting. I got up to go to the bathroom, and dialed the code to stop the taping.