It's been six months since I received that first email. All of you got one just like it inviting you to an introductory meeting. Like you, I was outraged, humiliated, embarrassed, shocked, that someone else knew that my wife had a lover. I went to that first meeting hoping to find him there. I didn't, of course. At least I don't think I did. Maybe he isn't a cuckold.
"Hi, I'm Tom, and I'm a cuckold."
"Hi, Tom."
I'm an architectural engineer. I'm the one who takes an architect's design and figures out how to build it. A building needs more than a floor plan. Big ones require a steel framework, a solid foundation, elevators, fire escapes. My team had a big problem one day, and the client wasn't very happy. We worked late to solve it. I called my wife to tell her not to wait up for me. She's a nurse and has to be at her job at seven a.m.
We got lucky. I was about to call for a pizza break when we found the problem, a typographical error on one of the spec sheets. One extra zero had kept six people from going home for four hours.
I had told Ann we'd quit at midnight even if we hadn't found the solution. I didn't expect dinner to be waiting for me. It was nine when I left the office.
I stopped at a restaurant to get something to eat before going home. It was a singles' pickup joint with a bar along one wall, tables in the middle of the dining room, and booths on the side opposite the bar. The dinner crowd had cleared out, so I accepted a booth.
I like to people watch when I go someplace alone. It helps pass the time while I'm waiting for my order. I have seen some interesting things. I've seen couples become engaged and marriages fall apart, both over dinner. This particular evening there was a couple at the bar having a drink. The woman's back was to me. Her blouse was tight enough, and sheer enough, to see she was braless. Maybe she was a hooker picking up a trick. Other possibilities ran through my mind. I couldn't hear what they were saying because of the music on the sound system. It was like watching a movie on tv with the sound off. I could make up my own dialogue to suit my mood. I decided she was his secretary, and that he was trying to get into her pants, which was what she also wanted.
I could see him in profile. He wore a suit and appeared to be in his mid-twenties. She was a bit of a mystery. From the back she reminded me of my wife. She had the same shoulders and rib cage and the same long blonde hair. Her skirt was very short. The hemline encircled the stool she sat on. If she stood up while I was there, I'd know what color her panties were. He leaned close to her, probably whispering sweet nothings in her ear, then kissed her cheek. He's making progress, I thought when she didn't pull away from him. She reached her hand out and stroked his thigh through his pants. He glanced down a bit surprised by her boldness.
Just then my sandwich came. My view was blocked by the waitress for a minute. When I could see again, he had one arm around her shoulders and was kissing her firmly on her mouth while his other hand explored her bare inner thigh. Her hand stroked his cock into a solid shaft. I was about to take the first bite of my ham and cheese when they broke the kiss. She turned around and slid off the bar stool. Her uncovered pussy stared at me. No wonder she reminded me of Ann. That's who she was. My beloved forty-five-year-old wife walked out of the bar with a much younger man in tow. Her slutty attire left no doubt she was taking him somewhere for a quick fuck. It didn't have to be a quickie. She wasn't expecting me home for another two and a half hours. She had plenty of time. As they went through the door, his hand went up under her skirt and caressed her bare ass.
Where would she be taking him? A motel mostly likely. Maybe he had a hotel room already. She wouldn't take him home and risk my catching them in bed. She was too smart for that. Which motel or hotel? I could drive around all night and not find her car. My sandwich dropped to the plate.
What could motivate her to want another man? We had been married for twenty-three years, twenty-three very happy, horny years. Our three kids would tell you we can't keep our hands off each other. Since they've moved out on their own, we've been even hotter. We spend most weekends at home naked and making love. Just thinking about her fabulous body is enough to give me a hardon. She has admitted to having orgasms while driving from thinking about the last time we were in bed. Many mornings my wakeup call is a blowjob. If it sounds like we have a great sex life, you're right. It's fantastic! I can't imagine wanting any other woman.
Why was she picking up that guy? Was she trying to relive her swinging single days? She wasn't a virgin when we met. I wasn't either. All her friends told me she stopped sleeping around after the first time we had sex, which was on our first date. Was she trying to assure herself she was still attractive? She wears a string bikini, very well I might add, when we go to the lake. The wolf whistles she gets should tell her how beautiful she is. Her tummy is flat. Her bottom is two firm globes. Her breasts are full and firm. The only time she ever weighed more than one-twenty was when she was pregnant with our children.
The sandwich was probably good, but I couldn't taste it. I put a twenty-dollar bill on the table and went outside.
Her car was nowhere in sight. She had a five-minute head start on me, so I didn't expect to see it. In the back of my mind I hoped she had dumped him once they were out of the restaurant. No such luck, of course. I got into my car and drove around the immediate neighborhood checking alleys, parking lots, and a couple motels searching for some clue of her whereabouts. After fifteen minutes, I gave up and headed home. I figured I would confront her when she arrived and demand an explanation.
When I made the last turn onto our block, I saw her car I our driveway. Another car I didn't recognize was parked beside it. She wasn't even trying to be circumspect about what she was doing. Was I the only one in the neighborhood who didn't know about her infidelity? I had to be the ultimate chump. She certainly had time to screw around. She got home around three-thirty. I didn't get home until six. For all I knew she could have slept with half the town. I parked at the end of the block and walked back to our house.
The living room lights were on, but the drapes were closed. The silhouette of their embrace on the curtains was anything but chaste. His hand caressed her breasts as they kissed. When their lips parted, their shadows disappeared from view going in the general direction of the bedrooms.
I dashed around to the rear of the house. The lights were on in our bedroom. Did she have to cheat on me right on our bed. Couldn't she at least use the guest room? The deck was high enough that I could see through the window. She didn't even bother to close the curtains. She had to have been very confident I wouldn't catch her. Unless she wanted to be caught. But why? Why would she want me to know she was being unfaithful? Did she think it would make me find her even more desirable? Maybe that was it. Was I taking her for granted? Was she getting bored with me? I crawled up under the window and slowly raised up to see inside.
