The Truth About Your Wife

She's going to the gym again. Or so she says. I don't really know where my wife goes for sure. Just that she comes back two hours later, sweaty, tired, and headed for the shower. Ever since I caught her cheating last year, we've been trying to rebuild trust. Letting her leave for hours at a time without interrogating her is part of that. But some girls do whatever they want. I can't help but wonder, as I stare out the window, watching her car leave the driveway again, if she always is where she says she is...

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I'm going to the gym again. At least, that's what I tell him. I can see the hint of doubt in his eyes every time I return.

One mistake! I made one mistake, albeit several times. Ever since my husband found out that I'd been letting my supervisor pound my pussy on our lunch breaks, he's understandably had some trust issues. To make matters worse, he didn't find out about my affair because I confessed. I got caught.

Well, we got caught. Garrett and I had been getting careless. We started out in motel rooms, but eventually it was happening in the office. I'd suck his dick in the janitor's closet, or sneak away to get railed in the utility room. We were getting increasingly brazen.

One day, our boss unexpectedly walked into the conference room to see me bent over the table, getting dicked down by Garrett's 9-inch horsecock. To make matters worse, he came inside me a split second before we were caught. As our boss stood there with his mouth hanging open, Garrett's cock was pulsating inside me. My pussy was getting filled to the brim with a bucketload of hot cum as three more supervisors filed in, following the boss. I stood up and it all spurted out of me, glazing the floor and making a huge mess. Apparently, there was an impromptu meeting about to take place. Each of their faces turned bright red as they watched their coworker struggle to pull up her panties and button up her shirt. One of them couldn't take his eyes off my bull's giant hanging cock. It was impressive, there was no denying it.

"I am so sorry, sir," I said, blushing, as more cum spurted out of my tight hole.

"Both of you in my office. Now."

Cum dripping down my leg, I followed with my head down. Garrett complied too, trying to tuck away his massive dick into his underwear.

So I had to explain to my husband why I was suspended without pay. Not just because I was forced to take two weeks off, but because news of my affair had spread throughout the entire office like wildfire. Apparently, one of the men in the office texted him before I even got home and had a chance to explain myself. So not only did I cheat on him, but I cheated on him in front of everyone at the office. Everyone knew about it. Everyone knew he'd been cucked. And now everyone knew Garrett was hung, too.

My husband didn't waste any time punishing me. A sharp slap in the face greeted me at the door, followed by four more. I cried, but I was lucky he didn't give me a black eye. He bent me over his lap and spanked me forty times, hard. He bruised me. I couldn't sit down for three days. But I knew I deserved it. I'd been a very naughty girl. But god damn, it was all so sexy. Garrett, the exhibitionism, even my punishment. It was worth it, I couldn't lie.

"Tell me the truth, honey," he said to me a week later, cuddling in bed. "Has there ever been anyone else?"

"No, baby," I replied, looking deep into his eyes.

He looked down at me, pain in his face. "I really do want to know. I won't get mad, I promise. I just...I need to know if there's been anyone else."

"No!" I exclaimed. "There really wasn't anyone else, ever. It was just a one-time, stupid mistake. I just developed a relationship with this one coworker, and I should have put an end to it a long time ago. It's completely my fault, baby... but no, there has never, ever been anyone else. I promise."

That was a lie, of course.

I was a cum-soaked nympho. Shortly after we got together, I got fucked in the bathroom stall of a nightclub. I was high, in my defense -- a down and dirty quickie never hurt anybody.

Then there was David, my ex. We bumped into each other when I was back home over the holidays, and I sucked his dick for old time's sake. (David deserved it since I cheated on him too, back in high school.) I sucked his cock long and deep, relishing the taste of my old boyfriend's manhood. This is the dick that took my virginity, I thought to myself as I ran my tongue up his shaft. I wondered if his wife ever sucked his cock as good as me. Sitting in the back of his truck, he blew his load all over my pretty face. I licked it up like a good little slut, swallowing every last drop. That was right around our first anniversary.

Then, of course, there was our wedding day. I was getting nervous as the hour approached, but I held it together. Okay, I did give my phone number to the cute photographer, and we made out a little, but he only felt me up. I didn't respond to his booty call text the following week. If he'd asked on my wedding night, I might have caved in. But he didn't have the balls.

Six months later, I texted him and asked if he did boudoir photography. I wanted to make a special present for my husband, I told him. We met at his studio and things heated up quickly. I started out in my lace bra and panties and was completely nude after ten minutes. The shoot got increasingly pornographic, going from softcore to hardcore in a matter of minutes. He pounded me doggystyle like a fucktoy until he was satisfied, draining his balls in me while I moaned, cameras pointed at me from three angles. I bet he showed all his friends. And I bet he still jacks off to it now, years later.

Believe it or not, I was a good girl after that. It hurt my feelings when I caught my husband with the neighbor. He fixed her sink, and she thanked him with her mouth. I watched through a window as that fat whore swallowed my husband's cum. Maybe he deserves it, I thought to myself, crying. Maybe he should get more than I'm giving him. But I confronted him about it all the same. He folded immediately. The guilt had been eating away at him and confession was a relief.

As for my trips to the gym...

I usually do go to the gym. Honest. But last time I was there, I made eye contact with a cute college guy. I held his gaze for just a little too long, and he smiled. I smiled back and he started flirting with me. He put his number in my phone as I fiddled with my wedding ring. Maybe I would be bad, just this once... My husband didn't need to know.

After all, how would he ever find out?