Cheater? Cheater!

Thank you again to blackrandl1958 for her editing and encouragement.

"Open this door now, you bastard!"

I tried ignoring the disembodied voice coming through the hotel door and pumped hard several more times into the pussy of my lover, Evie, but the shrill sound was really throwing off my game.

I looked down into Evie's eyes and could see both sadness and disgust, before she finally whispered up at me.

"Damn! Couldn't she have at least waited another few minutes. I was so close. You owe me now, you know?"

"I do know. I promise I'll make it up to you. I know I owe you a lot for what you've done for me so far... and I know I'm going to owe you more for what's going to happen from this point forward. You've been a good friend... and an amazing lover," I said, stopping my pumping, rising from the bed and putting on my briefs and pants while the banging on the door and the shrieking continued.

"Ready?"

Evie nodded, pulling the sheet up to her chin to cover her naked body.

I yanked the door open, grabbed my hysterical wife and pulled her into the hotel room.

Momentarily stunned by the swiftness and power of my manhandling, Maci had finally shut up... until she saw Evie lying in the bed. Up until that exact moment, she would have said Evie was her best friend.

"You!" my wife screeched at Evie, then turned to me. "You!

"Aarrgghh! What the fuck do you think you're doing? What the fuck do you both think you're doing? My husband. My best friend. What the fuck do you think you two are doing?"

"Well, up until you interrupted us with the yelling of a fishmonger, we thought we were fucking up a storm!" I answered brightly, smiling as I looked at my disheveled, harried wife.

The only sound in the room for several seconds was Maci's heavy breathing. I realized I was being a wise-ass when I thought that she really needed to up her cardio if a little banging on the door was going to negatively affect her breathing this badly.

Maci stepped toward me and swung her right fist at my face. I anticipated the move and caught her hand in my left hand, flexed my hand hard and ground together the bones in her hand. I knew from experience the hand grinding hurt like a bitch.

"Oww!" she cried as I let her hand go and she quickly pulled it back toward her body. "What the fuck do you two think you are doing?"

I had never before heard my wife use the f-bomb at me, so hearing it for a second time meant she must have been really serious... and not quite believing what I told her a few seconds earlier. Still, I didn't feel the need to repeat myself. Instead, I went to the mini-fridge in the room and pulled out two bottles of water. I walked over to the bed and handed one to Evie, who thanked me and proceeded to sit up with her back against the headboard, the sheet still covering her naked body.

I twisted the cap off the bottle in my hand and proceeded to take a sip.

"Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a bottle, Maci?" I asked calmly.

Still breathing heavily, Maci looked at me like I'd lost my mind. She looked from my face to the bottle of water in my hand, then back to my face.

"You cheating bastard! I'll kill you! I'll cut off your balls! I'll..."

"I guess our fun here for the day is over. I'll get dressed and be going," Evie interrupted. "Call me."

The last comment from Evie was a statement, not a question. Maci looked at her friend gape-mouthed.

"Shut the fuck up, you... you... you man-stealing slut! How could you do this to me?" Maci screamed.

Evie gave her what I considered to be an evil smirk, but didn't answer. She got out of bed and started getting dressed.

"I thought we were best friends. How could you betray me like this?" Maci yelled.

Evie again didn't respond, but pursed her lips and looked hard at me. I don't know if Maci caught the interplay.

Maci didn't waste any time laying into me as soon as Evie was gone, although she kept her distance from me physically, probably remembering the hand grind I gave her. She must have yelled for a good couple of minutes before the word "divorce" finally came out of her mouth.

"Divorce. Huh. Whatever," I said quietly as I started to get dressed.

The heavy breathing continued, and I wasn't sure if spittle wasn't sliding out of her mouth. Her eyes were lasers.

"H-how long has this been going on?" Maci rasped.

"About two months... we've done it maybe six or eight times. She's a helluva..." I started.

"She's a low-born gutter slut!" Maci yelled. "She's my best friend. How could you two do this to me. How could I not have seen this before it got to this point?"

I had an easy answer to that question, but decided to remain silent for the moment as I got dressed.

"Are you heading home or going back to work?" Maci said, glancing at her watch.

"Going back to work, just like I always do. I don't let my personal life interfere with my professional one," I said. "My boss deserves my best and not to get short-changed. I wouldn't think of giving him less."

"But you'll shortchange me, you cheating bastard," she growled. "Well, this is far from over. Be ready for hell when you get home."

I stood by the door after I held it open for her, indicating she should leave before me. I wasn't born yesterday, and wasn't giving her the opportunity to trash the room before she left.

I had a productive afternoon at work, which didn't surprise me. I went in and talked to my boss a little before the end of the day, updating him on the state of my marriage and letting him know that I would need some personal time in the coming weeks. John Moore was a great boss. He told me he understood, was sorry for my situation and patted my shoulder as I left his office.

Maci told me she had ordered a pizza for dinner when I walked in the door, so I should go upstairs and change into something comfortable for what she was sure was not going to be a pleasant discussion. I noted to myself that she seemed to have calmed down considerably from earlier in the afternoon.

The tears started soon after we sat down at the kitchen table. She was always an emotional creature, and this was, without a doubt, a very emotional situation. She quickly questioned my love for her, my respect for her and my morals. She noted our five-year marriage, our total of seven years together and the fact that we had planned to start a family in a year or two as all being in jeopardy due to my actions.

"You're a real piece of shit. I may never be able to trust you ever again," she said angrily. "Did you never consider the fact that I would catch you?"

Maci hadn't touched either piece of pizza on her plate and had only taken a few sips of her red wine. I was on my second piece of pizza and had just taken a swig of beer.

"I really wasn't trying too hard not to get caught," I answered. "I was kind of disappointed that it took you as long as it did... although it turned out to be fun while it lasted..."

It got ugly when she spit her wine across her plate as she sputtered.

"Wait. What? You wanted to get caught? W-why the fuck would you want to get caught?" she shrilled.

"I didn't exactly want to get caught, but I... we, really... certainly weren't being that discreet. Not as discreet as you were trying to be, not that the result was any different for you," I stated.

I hadn't moved from my spot despite the fact that wine seemed to be dripping everywhere on the table. Not my problem.

She tried to speak, but came up with gibberish... the first two times. Finally...

"You... you knew? You knew about my cheating? But you never said... anything," she said barely above a whisper.

"Yeah... part of the plan. I decided to get mine for a while before we got down to nut-cutting time," I responded. "You couldn't unfuck your lover, so that wasn't going to change my plans. I decided that what was good for the goose..."

She looked stricken. I watched as 14 different emotions played across her face. I almost expected the word "tilt" to show up across her eyes.

"How long have you known? What are you going... to do? Oh, never mind. I guess you've been doing it, haven't you?" she asked, before finally getting up to clean the table in front of her.

"No. I've only done half of what I'm going to do. The other half will be done tomorrow when you get served divorce papers," I said.

I wasn't sure why she exploded in a burst of tears. She had to know that was coming. A long time ago we had had the discussion of what marital fidelity meant to both of us.

"I-I'm sorry, Roger. I don't want a divorce..."

"What did you expect I would do when I caught you?" I interjected.

She looked at me with vacant eyes. How quickly things had changed with the shoe on the other foot.

******

I knew as soon as I pulled up at my house and opened my garage door that my life had turned into a terrible cliché. I had gotten home a day early from an out-of-town trip, and there in my car's garage spot was a car I didn't recognize. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

The only light I saw on as I pulled up to my house was our bedroom night light, as we called it. Since no other lights went on as the garage door went up, I assumed the door going up hadn't been heard, meaning... exactly what I thought was happening was indeed happening: the bedroom radio was playing, as were my wife and her visitor. When my wife gets rolling, she is very noisy, which I've always loved before. This time, not so much.

I wasn't quite in ninja mode, but I was quiet as I ascended my staircase. Fuck, I could have stomped up the stairs in work boots, because my wife was outdoing herself on this night in decibels. Just in the time when I got into the house until I got just outside of my bedroom, I heard moans, groans, squeaks, squeals and finally a shrieked-out high-intensity orgasm. Not only did I peek in, I got my phone out and shot some video, including the finish of her orgasm and his that followed with a growl.

I seriously considered picking up one of my big carving knives or my cleaver as I passed through the kitchen from the garage, but decided my soon-to-be ex-wife wasn't worth jail time. Also, as I walked up the stairs listening to their noises, I got the feeling that this wasn't the first time the two had been together. Besides his car being in the garage, the sounds of sex seemed too practiced, not wild and crazy like I'd figured they would be if this was a brand-new occurrence--my wife's volume notwithstanding.

In my mind, we were done whether this was their first time or their 100

th

. I guess my "fragile male ego" wanted to know the answers to several questions: chief among them why. I thought we had a great marriage, a real connection and the sex seemed to be wonderful and plentiful. What the fuck had gone wrong?

They say the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference, but at that moment as I descended the stairs, I would have said the opposite of love is rage--a quiet, seething rage. I again considered getting my cleaver from the knife drawer.

I wasn't blind or naïve. I knew Maci was a beautiful woman and probably got hit on all the time. She had a mop of shoulder-length, dark brown curly hair, bright blue eyes and dimples, with a lithe runner's physique. She was intelligent, well-read and flirty, the latter which had been a problem from time to time as several guys thought her playfulness was geared directly at them, and I had to occasionally "rescue" her from an uncomfortable situation.

While I wasn't a "10" like her, I didn't think I was exactly chopped liver, so unlike some men who are married to beautiful women, I didn't feel like she was out of my league. I was a design engineer, so I tended to be reflective, and I made a good wage working for a national aerospace firm.

I wasn't impressed with the physical specimen with whom Maci had chosen to cheat. I was a fit 6-1, 185 pounds, and this guy didn't look to be maybe a buck-50, at about the same height as me, I guessed. It was a runner's body, and I wondered if my wife had met him through her running group.

Nobody is ever going to rate Waffle House highly among chain restaurants, but in my opinion it's a good place to get a solid breakfast meal at almost any time of the day. I had a Belgian waffle as I felt sorry for myself and wondered how my life was going to go forward as a single man. I felt as if I wasted the past five years of my life.

It was after midnight when I walked out of Waffle House. I slept in my car for a few restless hours, then went over to my work and put in a few hours to stay out of sight, even though it was a Saturday and I usually didn't work on the weekends. I changed out of my rumpled clothes, had a nice meal and then went home, pulling into my empty garage spot at about the time I would have gotten home had I stuck to my original schedule.

Knowing what I now knew, it took every ounce of my restraint not to scream at her or even push her away when she came over to give me a big welcome home kiss. We didn't have our usual welcome home sex that night, though, as I begged off saying I didn't feel well.

As much as anything, I was completely blown away by how normal she acted that night and the next day, Sunday. I had no way of knowing how many times she fucked her lover over the weekend, but if I hadn't seen them at least once, I wouldn't have had any clue based upon her acting ability. Meryl Streep had nothing on my wife.

Two days later I told my wife that I had another trip in just two weeks. It was total bullshit, but it would give me a chance to do a little reconnaissance. I supposedly left on Wednesday of that week, like usual, but in reality, I checked in at a hotel just one town over.

I had installed a couple of small video cameras in my house, one pointed directly at my bed, when Maci was at work, and I also had my Ring camera. I was sitting in my hotel room Wednesday night when my wife's lover pulled his car into my empty spot in the garage. While I knew it was going to happen, it still didn't feel good. I didn't watch the footage from the video cameras. I knew what they would show me. I just checked to see that the two lovers hadn't left the house from the time he showed up Wednesday night until he left early Saturday morning. I wondered if they got together every time I went out of town, and how long this had been going on. It wasn't going to change my future actions, but I just wanted... no, needed to know. You know, the fragile male ego thing.

I was busy for the two days that I sat in my hotel room. Since I paid the bills and did our financial stuff at home, Maci wouldn't have any clue that I separated accounts and lowered the credit card limits. I left the hotel long enough to meet my attorney and get her going on the divorce paperwork. Before she dropped it on my wife, though, I had some revenge to get. I knew my revenge wouldn't make me any better than her from the moral standpoint, but fuck it, I was going to get my pound of flesh on my cheating, lying slut of a wife. Fuck this shit about being a nice guy. That guy died: what was left was a guy with a very rusty moral compass.

As I said earlier, I was not exactly a troll, and through the years I've heard my share of come-ons and teases. I never once acted on any of them because I was a happily-married guy and I believed in my wedding vows. Again, as I now knew, that combination just made me a chump. Well, chump no more! If a good-looking woman wanted to play, I was in! Hell, as long as she wasn't hideous, I was in! I wasn't going to wait for playmates. I was going to hunt for them.

It felt incredibly wrong to be looking for bed partners on my next trip away from home three weeks later, but it also felt... thrilling and empowering. I had to wonder if this was part of the attraction for my wife.

One type of woman that was definitely off my list was those with rings on their left hands. No matter how pissed I was at my wife, I wouldn't do to another guy what had been done to me.

I struck out Thursday night when I went out on the prowl, but I hit the jackpot Friday night with a pretty secretary who was out with several friends for a night of drinking and dancing. We spent a lot of time talking and dancing, and when I asked her up to my room for a nightcap and more, she didn't hesitate.

Sex with my first new partner in about eight years was a revelation of sorts, but I'm not going to say it was life-affirming... or even amazing. It was fun, it was good... but much of that was because she was a new and different partner... and it was illicit. Maybe I was being too analytical and just should have let go. I don't know. Fun--yes. Great--not hardly.

If it wasn't for the revenge thing, I could never see cheating on the woman I love for just some random sex. Maybe my libido wasn't high enough... or maybe I just believed that my vows meant something that lust just couldn't trump. Apparently, though, my wife didn't share that last sentiment.

I scored good-looking women on two of my three nights out on my next business trip out of town, and enjoyed myself with both women. The first woman was about my age, I guessed, and the night was purely about lust: we fucked twice and used a half-dozen different positions--two of which she taught me. The second night was a little more than "just sex." The woman, a very hot 45-year-old, was more worldly, and she knew something in my life wasn't quite right. I told her my story of woe as she listened intently. She was also the victim of a cheating spouse, whom she divorced. We connected a bit, and our sex was both soothing and emotional. That gave me more insight into what my wife might be experiencing, which would have further added to my woes if I hadn't already made the decision to divorce the cheating bitch.

Allison Wainwright left me with several things to consider in my revenge plan: chief among them was that maybe I needed to be more personally involved with my partner... like my wife apparently was. I thought about this for several days before I made what I considered to be an out of the box phone call.

Evelyn "Evie" Langston had been my wife's best friend in town since we moved to Cincinnati right after we graduated from Michigan State University. Evie and my wife both belonged to a Shakespeare club in town, and bonded quickly. Evie was a year older than Maci and me and was a nurse at a doctor's office. She was also a divorcee.

Evie was almost an opposite of Maci: long blonde hair, big boobs, curves everywhere, bright green eyes. She was not as bubbly and flirty, but was smart and thoughtful.

I told her I was cooking up a surprise for Maci when I invited her to lunch, so I knew she wouldn't say anything to my wife. We met at a restaurant way away from Maci's workplace.

I was seated at the back of the restaurant when Evie walked in. She smiled brightly as she walked up to my table. I rose, we hugged. Although she was Evie's best friend, we had become friends as well... to what extent, I was about to find out.

"So what's this surprise you're cooking up? Her birthday and your anniversary are both months away," Evie said.

I pulled out a photo of Traci's lover from a folder I had on the table and laid it in front of Evie after our waitress took our orders. She gasped and jumped back slightly, which told me she at least knew who Traci's lover was.

"Umm... ohh... umm," she started.

"Yeah. That's what I thought," I said, trying my best not to growl. "Spill. Who is this fucker?"

Evie looked stricken. For a second, I thought she was going to bolt from the table.

"Ohh... umm... that's Eric Johnstone. He's a friend of Traci's, from her running group," she said barely above a whisper. "Umm... what do you want me to say?"

Evie's breathing picked up, and small drops of sweat broke out on her forehead, despite the restaurant's air conditioning working perfectly.