Julie stood and stared out the bedroom window at the back yard. The perfectly manicured lawn, the crystal-clear swimming pool, the covered hot tub, waiting to be enjoyed, the array of lounge chairs, scattered around the expensive flagstone patio and the neatly trimmed and manicured yard, one of which still had her tanning oil and bikini laying in the grass beside it. Everything looked perfect and idyllic, just like her life. Everything was just so, just exactly the way her husband wanted it to look. But Julie now knew, appearances could be very deceiving. She looked down again at the wadded up boxers, and lifted them to her nose again, taking a soft sniff.
There was no doubt now. She'd suspected for a while, that Allen was cheating; but, she couldn't prove it, she didn't want to believe it. When she met him, she was only a lowly college intern, trying to earn money to finish her degree in business management. He saw her and swept her off her feet. Sure, he was almost fifteen years older than she was, but the fancy gifts, the trips across the country and even a few times across the oceans, and his constant attentiveness and almost worship of her body, turned her head, maybe more than it should have. Five years ago, at the ripe young age of twenty-two, she was head over heels in love with him, and she was certain he was just as much with her. How could so much change in five short years?
She lived in the house, not needing to work, everything she could ask for, was hers for the asking. In exchange, all she had to do was plan lavish parties, attend social functions on his arm, look incredible and convince even older men, that her Allen was the best man in the entire world. When she got married, she had no idea that she was to be a trophy wife. A kept woman, whose primary duty was to make other men envy him. It wasn't until almost a year ago, that she began to wonder just how much he loved her, and how much of their relationship was about flaunting her looks and sexuality, at the other executives. She tried not to think about the unusual sexual antics he had enticed her into over a period of months, until she finally drew the line. Now she had to wonder, if he had found another to play those silly games.
She could no longer ignore his frequent late nights at work and inconveniently scheduled business trips. She wouldn't have thought anything about it, if his sexual desire for her hadn't also started to wane. It used to be that he couldn't get enough of her body, of her making him climax, in every way she could imagine, or was willing to try. He had always been attentive to her sexual needs and desires as well, making sure she had all the orgasms she wanted, which was usually several, one after another. She was somewhat embarrassed at some of the places he wanted to have sex in the last year. But she put up with it, to a point, because she loved him and he always made sure that she was well rewarded, sexually, for going along with his requests.
Now; now sex seemed almost mechanical, as if he was doing it because he was expected to. Gone was the intense lust and eagerness to have sex with her. Now it was almost as if he didn't, unless she asked him for it, and she found herself wearing more slinky things, or less of everything, trying to entice him to start something. But he never seemed to. She suspected that he was cheating, that he was getting that lustful desire satisfied elsewhere. She didn't want to think it, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't as if she didn't exercise several times a week, to keep her body fit and toned, or that she didn't wear sexy clothes or tan naked so there'd be no hint of tan lines for him. No, she was still as attractive and enticing as the day she met him. The question was why wasn't he still enticed?
She looked down at his silk boxers again, boxers she'd gotten him for his birthday, thinking that the feeling of the silk against his dick would entice him to want more sex. Unfortunately, the distinct odor of pussy on his boxers, mingled with a flowery perfume, an odor she knew hadn't come from her, and a perfume she didn't own, confirmed her worst fears.
She might not have even noticed if he hadn't wadded them up and tried to hide them down in the hamper, when he unloaded his suitcase from the last trip. But he had. He had had sex with someone else, and he felt like he had to hide it from her. She wasn't sure if it was guilt or something else, but she knew that he knew, he was in the wrong. Maybe he thought the maid would wash them and she'd never know. But he was wrong. She still liked to wash her own delicates, not that she didn't trust the maid, but to be honest, she didn't trust her not to put the snatch on some of her favorite lingerie. She was a few years younger and she had caught her trying her things on when she thought Julie wasn't going to be home. So sure, she wasn't going to be home, that she was walking around the house, doing her chores in a $300 baby doll, that highlighted all her best features, teasing the maintenance man that was here working on something or other.
She supposed that if she hadn't come home, Elaine would have very happily fucked the maintenance guy in Julie's lingerie, and she never would have known the difference. But she had; Julie was furious, she made her take it off and finish cleaning the house completely naked. She suspected that the maintenance man took care of her maintenance issue as well as fixing whatever he was here to work on, and knew that the pool boy got plenty to look at, though she wasn't sure if he indulged in Elaine's delights beyond looking.
Now she had to wonder if Allen had ever done the same thing. She was tempted to confront Elaine, to see if it was her pussy juices that had soaked his underwear, or if she had yet another competitor she didn't know about. She frowned and threw the pair of boxers in the trash, anger boiling up in her. She stared at the trash can and then walked over and pulled the underwear out. She carried them downstairs to the kitchen and got out a ziplock bag, slipping them into the plastic before sealing it shut. No, if he was going to play this game, she needed some advice.
---o---
It had been several days since her discovery and she had talked to several friends, including her lawyer friend. She was quite frank that yes, if he decided to throw her out, he could do so, the house was his before they got married, so she didn't have any right to it at all. A judge would definitely give her some alimony, his lawyers would drag it out as long as they could. She was going to have to do something to protect herself. Her first step, was to open a personal account at a different bank, transferring a small amount into it. Her second step was to draw out a little over fifty thousand from savings and buy stock with it. She kept the stock for a grand total of twenty-four hours before liquidating it and putting the money into her new account. At least now she had 'clean' money, she could live on that he couldn't touch. She might not have finished her degree, but she had learned her lessons, on the classes she had taken, very well.
The second thing to do was to figure out who he was fucking. That turned out to be surprisingly easy, or more correctly, accidental. She worked out three days a week at the company exercise complex, one of the many perks that the company had for its employees. The center rivaled any of the local gyms with a variety of machines, rowing machines, ellipticals, treadmills, weight machines, free weights and even a tenth mile indoor walking track. Like clockwork she showed up at the gym every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning around ten, finishing around eleven and heading home. Today she was running late, because she'd stopped to talk to her lawyer friend and now it was nearly noon.
She changed in the locker room, as normal, and headed out to the gym. She moved off to a corner, of the much busier than usual gym, to do her stretches. She was nearly done and ready to move to one of the treadmills to jog a couple miles, when she heard a distinctive voice. It was a voice she had become accustomed to hearing almost every day of the last five years. Today it didn't sound business like, or weary, like it usually did when he came home from work. No, today it sounded happy and jovial. She looked over toward the locker room doors, in time to see him reach over and smack the ass of a very curvy young lady.
She was maybe five three, a hundred pounds at most, with at least a quarter of it in a pair of seriously large tits, that were stuffed into a sports bra at least one size too small. She had on a pair of running shoes and shorts, but the shorts were a pair of gray terry cloth type shorts, that looked almost as if they were made from a pair of overly large gray sweat pants. The legs were short, so extremely short as to be almost non-existent. Other than that, every inch of her, maybe twenty-year old body, was exposed for the viewing.
