There are some days that should never happen. Today was one of these days. Actually, to tell the truth, the last several hundred should have never happened. Life used to be good, fun, and exciting; there were things to look forward to every day. I used to get up in the morning and be excited about going to work, if I got a new project I would be excited with the challenge. I would look forward to getting home from work so I could spend time with my stunning bride. The weekends were a time of sheer bliss; walks in the park, picnics, camping, hiking, and passionate love making. That all stopped some time ago, the sad thing is I am not even sure when the good times went bad.
Maybe it was the vacation in Cozumel, the night I woke up to use the restroom and discovered my wife was not in bed. I went down to the pool area to try to find her, thinking that maybe she couldn't sleep and had gone to relax and read by the pool. What I found was a long line of guys waiting to get into the women's shower. At the front of the line, there she was, pulling a train. I always knew she was a slut, but this was a little over the top.
Perhaps it was that night she went out with her girlfriends. Who knew she would get a headache and come home early to find me buried balls deep in sweet little Cindy, our next-door neighbors eighteen year old daughter.
I'm sure you are wondering, why the hell are we still together? Well, marriage counseling can be a wonderful thing. We had an excellent therapist and worked through each of these incidents, and others, amicably. We talked them out and agreed we had both been in the wrong in each instance and had made amends. Life was great for a while after the counseling, seemingly back to the way it was when we were first married. Little did I know she had learned how to hide her activities better, and not stopped them like she assured me she did.
This morning, I was searching for a tie and found an envelope full of pictures from our wedding day on the top shelf of the closet. I thought they were all in the album but could understand right away why these weren't. There she was in her wedding gown. Something blue, something new, something borrowed, something like that anyway. The something that got my attention was my best mans cock, buried deep in my beautiful brides mouth. Seeing the pastor there in living color with his cock deep in her ass really was not a shock knowing what I knew about her. "Wait," you're saying, "things have been going well since the counseling and this was a long time ago." Read on my dear friends.
I would have called in dead this morning, but I had a very important presentation to give to the executive team. I had been working on this deal for well over a year, virtually on my own, and had finally come to an agreement with the client for representation. This deal would guarantee my position in the company for the rest of my life if I so chose. It seems that bringing a few hundred million dollars into the company coffers has that effect.
I had my presentation ready to go, and a damn good one if I say so myself. Screw power point, I had gone straight to video. DVD to be exact, with paid actors laying out the proposition step by step, stressing the positive financial aspect of course. I had paid dearly for professional graphics and a killer sound track to boot. Well, I should have known it was all for naught.
My biggest problem at work was an asshole named Brad. No matter what I did, he would try to one-up me. If possible, he would steal my ideas as his own. Given half a chance, he would bad mouth me to the executive team daily. Oh, did I mention he is the father of that eighteen-year-old neighbor girl? The counseling didn't seem to have much effect on him for some reason, go figure. Something about knowing that I popped his sweet little daughters cherry seems to have left him with a bad taste in his mouth when it came to me. I can't imagine why.
There I was, ready to cue up my presentation when Brad walked into the conference room. I should have picked up the nearest heavy object and caved his worthless skull in when I saw the smirk on his face. I was still thinking a bit slow, with what I had already faced that morning, and didn't get the chance. It seems that bitch boy had done some research on this new client I had been busting my ass to sign up. He gleefully laid it out on the table for all to see. There was nothing here I hadn't seen before, but some of it had information I really didn't want the executive team seeing.
In our business, the first impression given by a company is everything. It does not matter what the truth is, if someone will believe a line of bullshit then that becomes the new truth. Bradley proceeded to inform the big bosses that my new client would be bad for our business from a morals standpoint. He had discovered that one of the subsidiaries of this multinational giant produced pornography. I already knew this, and pointed out that the income generated from this subsidiary accounted for less than one percent of the gross revenue for my client, as well as the fact that the porn in question was restricted to the European market.
As I said, first impressions are God. The board consisted of a bunch of guys in their 70's and over who hadn't been laid since Nixon was President. I was very promptly and not so politely informed that they were immensely disappointed with my work, and that my services were no longer needed. Did I mention that Brad is an asshole?
I had no choice but to go home; I figured I would guzzle a few beers to try to drown my sorrows, maybe watch some TV and just be a complete couch potato for a few days. Maybe Cindy from next door would come home in her cheerleader outfit and ride me while still wearing it. A guy has to have something to look forward to in life.
When I pulled into my street, I knew something was fishy. Parked there in front of my house was not one, not two, but three municipal garbage trucks. I pulled over a few houses down and walked slowly to my house wondering what was going on. I quietly worked my way around back, peeking into every window I passed. I found the answer in the game room. There she was in all her glory, with six garbage men. From what I could see, one was laying on his back while she was straddling him and riding his cock. Another was crouched behind her plowing her ass. There was another kneeling at her head with his unit buried in her throat. Two others were getting hand jobs and the last was laying on the couch with a dazed look on his face, apparently already spent.
"My life just keeps getting better and better." I thought.
I snuck away from the window and went quickly back to my car, retrieving my digital camera from the glove box. I made my way back to the game room window and snapped as many pictures of her tryst as I could, some damn good ones too. I wanted to document this, not for future jack off material, but for court. I was finally sick of dealing with this, the bitch had to go.
As I watched and snapped pictures, she was having a jolly good time. Each of the six trash haulers would swap positions every few minutes to get their fill of all her holes. It was more than a bit disturbing to watch the big hairy fat fucker who was in her ass go straight to her mouth without pause. She didn't seem to mind a bit. When I saw them swapping places it was clear that not one of these dirty pieces of shit was wearing a condom.
They went at it for quite awhile, on some sick and perverted level I was impressed with their stamina. Each of the guys got time in each position, at least twice during the time I was there. For the grand finale, she laid down on the floor with all six of them around her in a circle. She was laying there playing with her well abused, stretched out, slimy, dirty, disgusting snatch while the six of them jacked off and gave her a cum bath worthy of a bunch of Peter North clones.
When the satisfied public workers started getting dressed I made my way back to my car and headed across town to a club I knew was open at this time of morning. The Pink Pussycat was a mid-scale strip club I had frequented back in my single days. The dancers were not the best, but they were not the bottom of the barrel either. The girls were all friendly and didn't have a problem sitting and talking with the customers, even without laying out the bucks for a few table dances. There was none of the 'I'm so beautiful, worship me' attitude that was prevalent at most of the higher-class clubs. Some of the girls were exceedingly beautiful, but had not inherited the bitchy goddess gene along with their looks.
I had not visited the club for quite some time, but it was clear that not much had changed since the last time I was here. The place was clean with only a few customers at this time of the day. There were a few guys scattered around nursing their beers and trying to hide their hardons while ogling the girls. I made my way to the back of the room to the darkest corner. I needed alone time, time to think and make plans to get rid of the worthless bitch who called herself my wife.
Before I got comfortable a girl was already there asking what I wanted to drink. She temporarily made me forget my bad day in a hurry. She introduced herself as Crystal and was absolutely adorable; about 5'1", long brunette hair, striking blue eyes, high perky breasts that would be a perfect hand full, and a full, firm, round ass that you could bounce quarters off of.
"Want some company?" she asked as she returned with my beer.
"Maybe in a bit, I'd like to just relax awhile." I replied.
"Ok, don't forget about me." she said with a wink and a smile before she walked away, wiggling her perfect ass.
I sat there watching some of the girls dance for a while, just relaxing and trying to get my mind to stop going a million miles an hour. After an hour or so, I was much calmer and thinking a little more clearly. The first thing I had to do was deal with the pictures I had taken. I pulled my laptop out of its case, setting it up on the small table in front of me. This place had a lot of business customers, so a laptop wasn't a new sight. I reached in my pocket and removed the memory card from the camera, plugging it into the slot on the side of the laptop. Computers were ok, cameras of course were forbidden.
After I downloaded the pictures I went through each one, cropping, fixing color, enhancing, whatever it needed. I was almost done with them when Crystal walked up and plopped down beside me. I didn't see her coming and didn't have a chance to minimize the screen.
"What are you working on?" she asked, as her eyes got wide with surprise.
I decided I might as well tell the truth, it might help if I got it off my chest. I told her what I had seen that morning at my house, in explicit detail. I suppose I could have given her a somewhat R rated version, but I was in the mood to see if I could shock her. To my surprise the expression on her face hardly changed, if anything she began looking serious. Other things were definitely changing. I could see her nipples get hard under her sheer top and could distinctly smell sweet pussy in the air by the time I was done with my story.
"So, what are you going to do now?" she asked with genuine concern.
"Well," I replied, "I'll probably go home, show her the pictures, and kick her sorry ass out."
Crystal thought for a minute. "I have a better idea." she said with a smirk on her face.
"How about you go home and act like everything is fine. Don't tell her you lost your job or that you caught her this morning, do your best to act normal. For the next few days come by here while you would normally be at work, see if you can catch her and get more pictures for proof before doing anything. The more proof you have, the better case you can make. She will get most of what you have, and spousal support, if you go to court with just these pictures. I used to fuck a guy who was a divorce lawyer, he taught me a lot."
I had to admit, this sounded like a good idea.
