Dazed And Confused 2

Thanks to the Costermonger, Hale1 and Findegil for their editing work.

*****

As I stood in the doorway, I was shocked. My mind whirled and my vision blurred. Confusion reigned supreme as I struggled to comprehend what could possibly be happening. The evidence of my eyes seemed unmistakable, but my mind refused to accept it.

What I saw was my wife of 23 years, flat on her back in the middle of our bed. There was a large hirsute gentleman between her legs, giving her the pounding she, evidently, craved so desperately.

My ears also gathered evidence. "You like that, baby? You like that big dick in that tight little married pussy?" This was the voice of Jack, one of the managers at the office my wife worked at. I wondered about the "married pussy" angle. Were her tits and ass not married?

"Yes, Jack, give me that big dick!" This was the voice of Amanda, my loving wife. "Fuck me, Jack, I'm almost there."

The action slowed. Jack was hardly moving and my wife humped frantically up at him. "Don't tease me," she whined. "Fuck me, make me cum!"

"Cedric doesn't fuck you this good, does he, babe?" His voice was insistent.

"Wha... fuck me!" She was apparently not in the mood for conversation. Her comparative skills, regarding fucking evaluations, seemed to be impaired.

"You love my big dick, don't you?" he asked, giving her a poke or two. "I'm better than Cedric, right babe?"

"Stop talking and fuck me!" Mandy commanded.

He pounded her back to the brink and then stopped again. "Tell me I'm better than Cedric. Tell me you love my big dick better," he demanded.

She was frantic to cum. "Yes, okay? I love your big dick. You're better than Cedric, now fuck me, I need to cum."

He threw back his head and laughed. He seemed very pleased. I, however, was not at all pleased. My Special Forces training took over my body and I became a lean mean killing machine. I shook my head to clear it. Where had that come from? The closest I had ever come to Special Forces was buying a camouflage hat at the Army Surplus. I took three strides and seized him by the hair on the back of his head. He must have thought my loving wife was clutching him because he kept pounding away. I pulled his head back and drove my fist into his cheek with all the force I could muster. All motion ceased from good old Jack, and he went limp. Amanda thrust a few more times, frantically trying to reach her orgasm before she realized he wasn't responding.

Her face was turned away, and I let his head drop. This obscured her vision when she opened her eyes and turned toward me. You would think the loud sound, like an axe striking a block of wood, when I punched him would have registered. Plainly, it hadn't. She still had no clue I was in the room. I turned and left quickly, my footsteps silent on the carpet.

I stood outside the door and listened. My hand was throbbing. Likely, I'd broken it. I was very concerned. My hands are my living. I do a lot of typing and without working hands I was going to have a tough time. I heard Amanda begin to get mad.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Jack? Jack? Oh my God, you're bleeding! Get off me!"

Evidently, Jack was unresponsive. I wondered what I should do. Maybe I would have to check Google. Google knows everything. I decided I should check from the car, moving away from my house, preferably. I went downstairs, got in and drove to the park, three blocks away.

I got out my phone and contemplated my question. One must be quite specific with Google, or it will give you answers to questions you didn't ask. How to phrase it? What should you do when you have knocked out the man fucking your wife in your bedroom? That seemed reasonable.

"Okay, Google... I asked the question. The first two links were to jokes. I like jokes, so I looked at the first one. A couple of them were pretty good. "What is the best way to blind your wife?" I had always wondered. "Put her behind a windshield." That was pretty funny. I laughed. LOL I can do text speak with the best of them. "Why didn't the husband report his credit card stolen?" This was a mystery to me. "The thief was spending less than his wife." That got a chuckle, too, but this wasn't helping.

The third one was, "The number one dead giveaway that your wife is about to cheat." Well, it was a little late for that one. I wished I had thought to read it before. The dead giveaway was probably right there in front of my nose and, in my ignorance, I'd missed it. I did wonder what it was, though, so I checked it out. It turned out to be a treatise written by misogynists. If my wife was denying me sex during her fertile cycle, she was about to cheat. I should have been keeping track of her fertile cycles. Since I had no idea when they were and she was on the pill, this didn't seem helpful. Google was useless! I was going to have to figure something out on my own.

I heard a siren in the distance. An ambulance whizzed past. I wondered where it was going. Soon, a police car followed. Suspecting that I shouldn't be there, I drove back to work, entered through the back and went to my office. No one saw me. I called Lauren and asked her to come back. Lauren is my secretary. I had a couple of letters to mail and I gave them to her.

"I thought you went to mail them," she said.

"No, I got busy," I told her. "Something came up."

She took the letters and went back to her desk. I worked the rest of the day, though it was difficult, due to the pain in my hand, and then went home. I was very curious what Mandy was going to say. I could smell dinner cooking when I walked in, something with oregano and garlic. I hoped that it was something Italian. I love Italian food. Mandy was busy in the kitchen. I walked in and she smiled up at me. "Hey, honey," she said. "How was your day?"

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and squeezed her butt. She has a very squeezable butt. "Good," I said. "Say, Mandy, do you know the best way to blind a woman?"

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Put her behind a windshield," I said.

She chuckled a bit. "How was your day?" I asked. "Anything exciting?"

"Nah, just the usual," she said.

Hmm, her usual day consisted of getting fucked in our bedroom by someone other than her husband, not being able to finish because said fucker was unconscious, a visit from an ambulance and the police? I had never suspected she led such an interesting life. Who knew?

"I'm going to grab a shower and change," I told her.

"Okay, dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes," she said.

When I got upstairs, I looked around. I had expected to see yellow tape, marking off our bedroom as a crime scene. Nothing. The bed was stripped, and I found a small spot of blood on the mattress. I would have to inquire how that got there. This should be interesting.

When I got back downstairs, dinner was ready and we had a companionable meal. We went to the living room and she turned on the TV. We sat on the couch and she cuddled up to me. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

"Say, sweetheart," I began. "I noticed a little spot of blood on our mattress. How do you suppose that got there?"

I felt her stiffen against me, then relax. "I was shaving and cut my leg," she explained. "I didn't notice and got some blood on it."

"Ah, that explains it," I said. I grasped her leg and began to examine it.

She stiffened again. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Looking for the cut," I said. "I was going to kiss it and make it all better."

"No, it was a while back," she said nervously. "That's very sweet, though. I have something else you could kiss, if you were interested."

"Nah, just looking for cuts," I said.

I think this answer startled her, somewhat. I rarely turn down opportunities to kiss something else. Somehow, the idea of kissing something that had been recently occupied by an unconscious man was not very appealing, well, occupied by any man, for that matter, other than myself.

She looked at me with some concern. I feigned indifference and she relaxed again. "Want to watch a couple of episodes of something on Netflix?" I asked.

She seemed amenable, so we watched "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." She loves it, I don't hate it, so we compromised. She tried to drag me off to bed, afterward, but I told her I had a couple of papers to go over, and she went to take a bath. She was probably horny from her coitus interruptus earlier, but I had no intention of scratching that particular itch.

I had business to conduct. We had been happily married for 23 years. She had given me my beautiful daughter, Bailey, and she'd been a good wife and mother. I wasn't going to sell her into slavery, although I hear those Mexican whorehouses always have openings. I had never actually visited one, but that's the word on the street. I didn't even know any Mexicans, so that was out. I was pretty sure Raul, at work, was from Guatemala. Guatemalan whorehouse just didn't seem to have the same ring. Since that was not in the cards, I had to decide what to do.

I made a list. I put "House," at the top. I never liked the place. I would give it to her. Since we owned it, the division of other assets became much more equitable. Other assets were what I wanted. I erased "House," and put "Bailey" up there. I did want Bailey. She's a 20-year-old college sophomore, so of course, there would be no custody issues, but I wanted her. She lived in an apartment off campus and came home on the weekends. She also lived with us during the summer, so this was going to be awkward. I would have to figure it out.

No fault divorce means that we would split everything right down the middle, so I didn't need to worry about collecting evidence. The only evidence I would need would be for Bailey. She was the only asset I had no intention of splitting. I thought I knew how to get that. I got on the computer and checked around. I know things about hospitals. I sell and troubleshoot their software. We software experts always have a back door into our systems. I found out where they were keeping dear old Jack and decided to pay him a visit in the morning. He had a fractured orbital socket and cheekbone; it turned out, also, a concussion. He would be there, all safe and sound in the morning for my inspection of the damage.

I spent some time getting my ducks in a row, and it was one o'clock by the time I went to bed. Mandy was sleeping, and that suited me just fine. She rolled over against me and I shivered a bit. She seemed sort of gross. Anyone who would fuck that mangy looking dog wasn't really someone I wanted touching me. Her transformation was amazing. She'd gone from sexy as hell to gross, all in one day! You know how some women can transform themselves with makeup? This was the reverse, and all the Este Lauder on the planet wasn't going to change it.

She still wasn't up when I left for work in the morning. Her job doesn't start until nine. I go in at seven. I made a pot of coffee, filled my travel cup and sprinkled a little garlic powder in the pot. I got a muffin and started to leave. Then, I had second thoughts. Garlic powder doesn't go well in coffee. I added some to the rest of the muffins. There, now they matched. Balance was restored to the universe. I made sure my phone was charged and drove to the hospital. Lila happened to be on duty. She's a hospital administrator and I told her I needed to work on the servers. She gave me a badge and went away. I asked the lady at the information desk about dear old Jack and she cheerfully gave me his room number.

He was awake when I came in, but I don't think he recognized me. His face was pretty swollen. They had his head wrapped up like a mummy. It's probably very difficult to see when one eye is covered by your mummy wrappings and the other is swollen to a slit. It looked like it would be difficult to turn his head, too. His face looked like it hurt nearly as much as my hand. I took his medical chart and scanned it with my phone. Then I walked around his bed, taking pictures from different angles. He mumbled incoherently, but I paid no attention.

I turned in my badge and went to work. I got a text from Mandy about 8:30. "Something is wrong with the coffee pot." Well, it had tasted fine to me. I got some fires put out and told Lauren I was taking the rest of the day off. I called Bailey and arranged to meet her for lunch. It was Friday, and her last class was at noon. I was hoping she'd want to come home with me.

It didn't go well. At first, she didn't believe me. She even accused me of trying to "Dump Mom." After I told her what had happened, showed her the chart scans and the pictures of the mummy, she cried and I had to hold her for a long time. I didn't mind that a bit, except for the crying part. She finally got over that and became boiling mad.

"What are you going to do, Daddy?" she asked.

"What do you think I should do?" I said.

"I hear there are always openings in the Mexican whorehouses," she said. Ah, a daughter after my own heart.

"No, I thought of that," I said. "We seem to lack some requisites."

"Well, divorce her and leave her with nothing," she suggested.

"Impossible," I said. "She's going to get half of everything. That's the kind of laws we have. There's nothing I can do about it."

She was not at all pleased, but she understood. "Well, she's not getting half of me," she said. She wanted to go home right away and confront Mandy. That's what I wanted, too, so she followed me home. Mandy wasn't home from work yet, so we just hung out and talked strategy. When Mandy came in, she saw us sitting on the couch and rushed over to hug Bailey. She got a stiff arm that put that Heisman Trophy statue to shame.

Mandy staggered back. "What was that?" she gasped.

"That's 'I don't want you to touch me'," Bailey said. "I don't know where your hands have been."

Mandy's mouth hung open. "I used some anti-bacterial stuff on the way home," she said. "Why are you all worried about germs all of a sudden?"

"I'm not," Bailey said. "I just thought you might have had them down some douche bag's pants."

Mandy was completely shocked, now. "Bailey, what's wrong with you?" she demanded. "You've never talked to me like that before. You need to apologize."

"You're right, Mom," Bailey said. Mandy's face cleared from its frown. "I've never talked to you like that before. You should get used to it, though. You were never a skank before, at least, not that I know of."

Mandy looked at me, astonished. "What's going on, Cedric?" she asked.

"Well, after I told her about your little visit from the ambulance and the police yesterday, she got an attitude," I said.

She stared at me, looked over at Bailey, back at me and I saw her eyes sort of glaze over. She sank to the floor, her head hanging and she was whispering to herself. I couldn't make out what she was saying. It sounded like "No, please, no!"

Bailey and I looked at each other. I think we started to get up at the same time. We helped Mandy up and put her in a chair. She tilted off to one side, but it had big stuffed arms that kept her upright.

"I need to lie down," she said. "I just need to lie down for a minute."

We pulled her up and took her to the couch. About halfway there, she went limp. We eased her down and propped her head and feet up on pillows.

"She didn't have a heart attack, or something, did she?" Bailey asked.

"No, I think she just passed out," I said. "She'll come around in a minute."

We waited, talking about school, work, just trivial stuff, and pretty soon, Mandy groaned. Bailey went to the kitchen and brought back a cool wet cloth and a bottle of water. She washed her mother's face and helped her drink some of the water. Mandy gained some composure and the first thing she asked was, "How did you know?"

"How did I know what?" I asked. I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"How did you know I was... I was... seeing someone."

"You were seeing someone?" Bailey's voice dripped sarcasm. "What happened yesterday, Mother? Did you 'see' someone? Guess what, I probably 'saw' a thousand people today. I 'see' you right now. Is that the sort of 'seeing' we're talking about?"

"Bailey, I think you should go to your room and give your father and me some privacy," Mandy said. "This doesn't involve you. Your father and I love you very much, but it's between us and has nothing to do with you."

Steam was rising from Bailey's scalp. "Go to my room?" she sputtered. "Do you think I'm ten years old? I'm a grown woman; you don't get to tell me to go to my room. If I was ten and you told me to go to my room, I wouldn't do it. I don't listen to skanks. If Daddy wants me to go to my room, I will. I respect him!"

She looked at me. "No, I'm good," I said.

She started right back. "And what the hell are you talking about, 'This doesn't involve you'? It damn well does involve me. I had a family! Now you've fucked everything up!" She was practically screaming now. "Doesn't involve me? Are you fucking nuts? It's going to be spring break in two weeks. What do you think I was going to do? I was going to come home and spend some quality time with my mom and dad. Now what am I going to do? I'm sure as hell not spending it with your skanky ass!"

My daughter had quite the mouth on her! I'd never heard her use words like that. She was furious. Mandy looked helplessly at me. "Cedric... I... I'm so sorry!" She burst into hysterical weeping. That went on for about five minutes. Bailey handed her the tissue box. When she calmed down, I had some questions for her.

"What, exactly, are you sorry for, Mandy? Are you sorry for 'Loving Jack's big dick'? Are you sorry that he fucks you better than me? Are you sorry that he didn't make you come?"

She gasped. "You were there! What did you do? How... I can explain. Please, stop for a minute and let me explain."

"Explain what?" I asked. "Were you not fucking that asshole on our bed? It was a hologram? You don't love his big cock? He doesn't fuck you better than I do?"

She shook her head frantically. "Please, stop," she begged. "Just let me... I'm so upset I can't think straight! What did you do, Cedric?"

"I did nothing," I said. "According to the police, you must have hit him with something. I was at work, remember?"

"How do you know that... You were here, Cedric! I know you were. You couldn't know everything if you weren't here!"

"I have spy gadgets all over the house," I told her. "I know everything. Didn't I tell you that I was recruited by the CIA and the Mafia while we were in college? I'm onto you, Mandy. Now I'm going to have good old Jack kidnapped, tortured and put in a secret prison. I'm saving the Mafia connections for you. I'm thinking concrete shoes."

"Stop!" she covered her ears with her hands. "Please, just let me rest for a minute."

"Maybe you'll have time to think of some good lies while you're resting," Bailey said. "Dad, let's let Mom rest and you can take me for a Blizzard at DQ."

We went down to DQ and got them. Mine was Heath bar and Bailey got cookies and cream. "Let's get a pumpkin spice one for Mom." Bailey giggled. She has a very cute giggle. Mandy hates pumpkin. By the time we got back, I guess Mandy had rested. She was sitting up on the sofa and had her head in her hands. She looked up when we came in. Bailey handed her the Blizzard. She absent mindedly took a bite and grimaced. She put it down on the coffee table.

"Cedric, Bailey, please sit down," she said. "I need to explain to you what happened."

"I'm not interested in what happened," I said. "All I'm interested in is what you intend to do."

That seemed to throw her off her game a bit. Why is it that people who do despicable things always think they can "explain?" Somehow, the victims of the despicable deeds are obligated to listen while their misfortune is "explained." I refused to be a victim.