Cheaters Always Pay the Price

Jim and I had just finished our day shift at the plant and we were driving back home together in my car. We always commuted together whenever our work shifts coincided, and this week it was my turn to use my car.

As soon as we left the plant, Jim asked me to stop at a pharmacy on our way back home so that he could have a prescription fill. His wife Sally, had a bad cold and the doctor had prescribed medication to get rid of her stubborn cold.

Since we were driving near the pharmacy where my wife Rachel was working, I decided that I was going to surprise Jim as well as my wife and stop there. During all those years that she had been working there, not once had I visited her at her place of work. As a matter of fact I had never been inside that pharmacy yet, so I figured that she was going to be very surprise to see me there today.

I had never dared to visit her at the pharmacy since I didn't want her coworkers or her boss thinking that I was checking on her. Surprisingly she also never once commented about that fact to me.

She was working today and I knew that she was going to be surprised indeed to see me. She only worked there two days per week and I figured that it was time that I finally met her boss after six years.

******

Rachel and I had been married for nine years now. Even though we were not rich, I was earning good money at the plant where I was working and I preferred that my wife remained at home. But two years after we had been married she claimed that she needed to get out of the house and she wanted to go on the work market.

Since it was also her wish to have a car of her own, she was soon able to convince me to agree to let her work a year or two. At least until she had paid for the car that she wanted to buy. So a week after we had agreed about her starting to work, she found a job at a pharmacy on the other side of town.

Just over a year later she gave birth to Sandy, then for the next two years she became a stay at home mom. Later, when Sandy was older she once again begged me to let her work, even if it was only a couple of days per week. She claimed that she had already phoned at the pharmacy where she had previously worked and Mr. Clarkson was ready to take her back even if it was only two days per weeks.

I finally agreed and she set things up with her mother so that she could take care of Sandy on those days she was working.

She had now been working two days a week for Mr. Clarkson for over three years and Sandy was now almost six, and not once had I stepped inside her place of work.

******

I parked in front of the pharmacy and Jim and I both went inside. It wasn't a huge place but it had about everything one would expect to find in a pharmacy. There were four long aisles on each side of which were shelves loaded with everything from cough syrup to condoms of all brands. Then completely at the back was the space where prescriptions were being filled. Of course Jim and I immediately walked there.

But instead of seeing Rachel there as I expected, there was only a middle-age man behind the long counter. He took Jim's prescription and started working on it. I was about to introduce myself and ask him where my wife was but since Jim was standing next to me, I didn't want him to know that I was ignorant about the fact she was not there. So I didn't say anything.

While the pharmacist was busy filling the prescription, Jim slowly wandered further away looking around at the different displays.

That is when I decided to give a closer inspection to the back of the place. As soon as I looked over the counter behind the pharmacist, my eyes felt on a desk near the wall. On it rested a framed picture of a girl of about seven or eight. The thing that struck me about the picture, was the fact that the child on it looked so much like my Sandy that it was uncanny.

She had the same long blond hair and blue eyes; even her smile was the same. I just stood there in awe as I examined the picture, I was shocked and amazed by the resemblance with my daughter. It was as if I was looking at how Sandy would look in a year or so. How was that possible I asked myself?

All of a sudden, I couldn't help myself and I asked the pharmacist, who was still busy counting pills, if the child in the picture was his daughter.

" No, no! I have only two boys at home. This is Kathy; she is the daughter of Mr. Clarkson. She is a lovely child isn't she?"

"Yes she certainly is."

I was simply too shocked to say anything, so I moved away pretending to look for an item on the shelve on my left.

But deep inside I suddenly felt sick. I kept asking myself how could this Kathy look so much like my own daughter, and where was my wife? I then had a very bad feeling, deep inside I suppose that I had a hint of a clue to the answers to both questions, but I wasn't ready to admit it to myself. All of a sudden, I felt a strong needed to get out of there, I walked toward Jim and I told him I was going to wait for him in the car.

While sitting there waiting for Jim, I began to think. Sandy looked nothing like Rachel, and she certainly had none of my facial features also. Rachel and I, both had brown eyes and dark brown hair, Sandy was blond. When she was a young child, all my friends kept making jokes about the color of her hair, some were even asking me if I was ordering pizza often at my house or what was the hair color the mailman. Of course these were only friendly jokes, and I didn't let these remarks bother me. But now it all came back to haunt me.

Was Sandy really my daughter or was she the daughter of Mr. Clarkson. The strange thing was that I had never once met or seen Karl Clarkson, so I didn't have a clue as to what he looked like, except for the fact that he had light color hair. Rachel had mentioned this to me a few times.

When Rachel and I were home later that evening, she noticed my quiet and pensive mood, she even asked me if there was something bothering me. Of course I didn't tell her that I had stopped at her place of work that day or what was on my mind.

But I certainly would have like to learn where she was when I stopped there, but I kept my mouth shut about doubts. I knew I had to be carefully and not accuse her of something that might exist only in my imagination. More important still, I knew that I needed to get proofs so as to confirm or infirm my doubts about the parentage of my daughter.

You see it was extremely painful for me to even consider the possibility that my precious angel might not be my biological daughter. I loved my daughter more than anyone else in the world and I would have walk through fire for her. I tried to convince myself that it was probably just a coincidence that the two girls looked so much alike, but deep inside I experienced a growing suspicious that kept coming to the surface.

Later that night, while I was in bed lying next to my wife, the full impact of the day's events finally hit me.

If Sandy wasn't my daughter and if Karl Clarkson was her biological father, this implied that Rachel had been fucking him from the very beginning, when she first began working for him over six years earlier.

I told myself that even today, it was more than probable she was still continuing her affair with her lover. The bitch, she had probably been cuckolding me during all those years. Even now, there was a good chance that she was still fucking him twice a week -- every time she was supposed to be working at the pharmacy. Once her workday is over, -- and after having fucked him to her heart content -- she is coming back home to me with a happy smile on her face while her cunt is still full of his cum.

Each time she is returning home to me after having had sex with her boss, she is probably secretly enjoying the knowledge that she had just cuckolded me, knowing I suspect nothing of her affair.

Yes, I had already noticed she always took a shower as soon as she came home, saying to me "I have to remove the smell on me of the different chemicals that I am in contact with". I knew now that she was rushing into the showers as soon as she came home so she could remove all traces of her recent infidelity within her cheating cunt.

The following day was Friday, since Rachel wasn't working that day; I drove to her place of work after dropping Jim at his house. I now wanted to see Karl Clarkson's face to face. Since he didn't know me, and since I had never seen him before, I felt that it was time I finally had a look at him.

After asking the woman behind the cash where Mr. Clarkson was, I was told that he had already gone home, but she added that Mr. Manning, his assistant, could help me with my prescription. She pointed toward the back, I realized that she was indicating the same man that had filled Jim prescription the previous day.

I told her that I would come back on another day since I had personal business with Mr. Clarkson. She then dropped a bombshell on me by adding that I should make sure that I didn't come on a Tuesday or a Thursday afternoon since he was never in the pharmacy at those times.

Of course I left without saying another word, I just nodded to indicate that I understood. What the hell was going on here, I said myself as soon as I was sitting in my car.

Rachel had been hired to assist Mr. Clarkson on those two days. She was there to count pills for him and to help him with the filling of prescriptions -- at home she always referred to him as Mr. Clarkson -- and now I had just been told that on those two days of the week that she was working, he was taking the afternoon off. It just didn't make sense to me.

What was Rachel doing on those afternoons? After all she was suppose to be helping her boss. The previous afternoon she was not there but she was supposed to be working, was she somewhere else with him?

After the birth of Sandy I had been completely against her going back to work, but she kept insisting that she wanted this until I finally conceded. Now I had a very sour feeling about her job, and that child's picture that stood on the desk kept coming back into my mind to haunt me.

In my mind, the wall of doubt about my wife's faithfulness was getting stronger all the time. Was she cheating on me with her boss or was it only my over active mind playing tricks on me?

That weekend at home with Rachel was the worst in my life. Every time I would look at her, I kept imagining her having sex with her boss. Of course, I couldn't place a face on him since I didn't know what he looked like exactly. Therefore, with my mind's eyes I saw him with interchangeable faces and body features, while he was having sex with her in all sorts of possible positions. To make matters worst still, I imagined them laughing at me and making jokes while they were fucking.

Deep inside I felt that there was a good chance that Sandy was his daughter. Was he still fucking my wife behind my back? Could she even be working on her second child with him? All those years, she had been fucking him probably more often than I had. I now couldn't think of her without feeling my anger coming to the surface, I knew that from now on, each time I would look at her, I was going to experience the same frustration until I got proof of the contrary.

Saturday morning while she was still sleeping next to me, I quietly looked at her. She was a beautiful woman indeed. Her long brown hair was spread on the pillow and she looked so peaceful with her sensual plump lips, which were slightly opened at the moment. I even felt a strong urge to kiss them, but soon the thought of what she was probably doing behind my back was enough to discourage me.

Beside, I told myself, each time we make love; her cunt most probably still contained millions upon millions of these tiny little swimmers from her lover. Swimmers that he deposited in her cunt while causing intense illicit pleasure to the both of them. After all, doctors do claimed that these little swimmers can remain in the vagina of a woman for up to three or four days after having been deposited there.

This implied that each time I went down on her -- this did happened almost every time we made love -- I must have been swallowing an uncountable number of them. Worse still, one of them probably succeeded in making her pregnant with Sandy.

As these thoughts and pictures of the two of them fucking unrolled inside my over active mind, just like a triple X movie, I became impossibly hard. At the same time I got angry, the love I once had for her was melting away like snow under the rays of the hot summer sun.

Gradually, as the anger kept building inside me, I couldn't stop myself and I suddenly climbed on top of her, and before I knew it, I was on my knees between her legs. I roughly lifted her gown until it was above her waist, -- by then she was wide awake and looking at me with wide, frightened eyes -- without bothering to say a single word to her, I next aimed my cock between the lips of her cunt. In a single shove I pushed it all the way, deep within her unprepared cheating hole.

For the next fifteen minutes I fucked her. I don't know if she enjoyed it or whether she had an orgasm or not, but I didn't care. It was not my intention to make love to her since I didn't feel like loving her, I was just using the body of the whore I now believed her to be.

We didn't talk at all until noon that day, and when the three of us were sitting around the table, I mostly talked to my daughter. As soon as Rachel had done the dishes, -- Sandy was playing outside then -- I pulled my wife toward the couch and I fucked her again, from behind this time.

I don't know why I was doing this, but all that I know is that I felt lot of anger toward her, and for some reasons that I couldn't even explain to myself, I would get very hard each time I went near her.

I suppose that in my subconscious, it was my way to seek revenge on her for giving to another man what was rightfully mine only. It was as if my body was trying to even the score and working on getting more fucks out of her than her boss had.

In bed that night, I woke her in the middle of the night to fuck her. There was no kissing and no soft words, just straight fucking.

For some reason, Rachel never complained about the way I was treating her. That fact all by itself was telling me more than anything else. She had something to hide and was trying to buy herself out of trouble by allowing me to have all the sex I wanted with her. In other word she had a skeleton in her closet.

I know that she certainly wasn't enjoying any of my fucking, judging by the expressions on her face each time I would ram myself into her. I didn't see any love or pleasure there, but I certainly did detect fear.

Of course, I had never acted that way before with her while making love. Each time we made love, it was always with our mutual consent and enjoyment, now I was just using her body like a man use a whore. Why was I treating her this way? After all I had no tangible proof yet that she had been cheating. I didn't even understand myself why I was acting this way, all I knew was that I had that strong urge to cause her pain.

I suppose that her lack of protest from my treatment was mostly due to fear, but why should she fear me her husband, unless of course she had something to hide. She just wanted my raping her to be over with so that we could go on with our usual daily affairs at home. I could tell she was afraid of getting into a discussion with me, afraid to discover that I knew her dark secret. She was buying peace by being submissive to me and enduring all the humiliation I was imposing on her.

As the days went on, I became still more convinced that she was fucking around on me with her boss, I was now also convinced that her affair with her boss had been going on for years. The love that I always felt for her was just about gone now, it had gradually being replaced by a growing desire to seek vengeance on her and her lover.

All my life I have always been a gentle and caring husband, I considered myself a good lover with my wife, now I was simply using her body to satisfy my needs without any consideration for hers. I didn't feel bad about what I was doing to her since I no longer considered her as my loving wife. I suppose it all boiled down to the fact that I was trying to get a little payback from her by being selfish and rough while fucking her.

The more this went on, the more I detected apprehension and fear in her expression. One evening, as she quietly sat in front of me around the kitchen table, I watched her as she quietly ate. I could tell that she suspected that I knew something about her affair with this Karl, she was now probably afraid to bring the matter into the open and have a frank discussion with me. Why was she afraid? I didn't know exactly since I have never been a violent man. Could it be that she wasn't ready to break up her marriage with me? She wanted to retain the security of being married to me as well as the excitement -- or was it the love -- of her affair with her boss.

Sunday afternoon I fucked her again twice on the couch while Sandy was playing outside with her friends. Later than afternoon, - while we were both pretending to watch television -- I thought of a plan to check up on her and finally try to get proofs of her cheating.

I made up my mind then that I was going to take the day off on the following Tuesday and follow her to her place of work. I was pretty certain that she and her lover weren't fucking at the pharmacy, so they had to go somewhere else to cuckold me. I thus planned to ask Jim to lend me his truck on that day so that I could follow her without being observed.

Tuesday morning, I dressed in my working cloths just like usual then I drove to pick Jim at his house. Once there, I gave him the key to my car and I took off in his truck. I drove back to my house parking the truck just a few houses away from home so that I could see my house easily. Half an hour later, I saw Rachel getting into her car with Sandy and I discretely followed her to Sandy's school where my daughter got off. She then drove directly to the pharmacy. I parked Jim's truck on the other side of the street and I waited patiently while listening to the radio.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting would happen but I just knew that something would. From where I was, I could see her red Toyota and most of the parking spaces next to the pharmacy. I was determined to stay there all day if need be.

Barely half an hour after she had entered the pharmacy, I saw a black SUV driving into the parking lot and the driver parked in the space next to my wife's Toyota. A tall, well dressed, blond hair man of around thirty five, got out of the vehicle and entered the pharmacy using his key on a private door that opened next to the parking lot.

The moment I saw him getting out of his car, I knew he was the father of the little girl I had seen in the framed picture. It suddenly hit me; this man was probably also the biological father of Sandy, this . . . asshole was my wife's lover. He was the one who had been cuckolding me for the last six years.

I felt a strong urge to run after him and beat the hell out of him, then go inside and beat the shit out of my wife also, but the time for expressing my rage that way was pass and gone. I was at least six years too late. It would have been fine to do this after she had fuck him the first or second time even, then maybe, just maybe there could have been a chance my marriage could have survive her cheating, but not after six years of fucking him at a possible rate of two times each week. No, now was the time to get rid of her as well as to make both of them pay for what they had done to me. Payback was definitely on my mind now.