Does Honesty Pay? Of Course Not. (My ending to hansbwl's classic tale)
Author's Note: If you haven't read hansbwl's original story "Does Honest Pay? Of Course Not." you can read it at
https://www.literotica.com/s/does-honesty-pay-of-course-not
At the end of his story, he throws down the gauntlet to others to add their own endings. You should read his original story before reading my attempt at spinning the yarn in a way that appeals to me.
I heard the garage door opening and glanced at the clock on the dresser - "11:05." She'd only been gone three hours; she either had a bad evening or was suffering pangs of conscience. I heard the entry door being closed and locked, the alarm being reset, and the sound of Susan's fuck-me heels nearly running up our stairs. She burst in to the bedroom saying, "Keith, I'm so, so..."
And I cut her off as she heard a quiet, unemotional voice she had never heard before say, "I see my former wife deigns to return to the scene of her many crimes," then I continued through gritted teeth,
"GET THESE GODDAMNED HANDCUFFS OFF ME THIS MINUTE!"
She nervously fumbled with the handcuff key, dropping it on the floor once as she tried to retrieve it from the top of the TV and again as she fumbled to unlock the first cuff, all the while saying over-and-over with tears streaming down her face, "Keith, I'm so sorry... I didn't know...."
When she was finally able to free the first cuff, I took the key from her hand and freed my other hand while telling her, "You didn't know, but I do. Lying here in that hour with nothing but my own thoughts, I reasoned it out. I know what
DIDN'T
happen; sex didn't happen. I feel like I was set up somehow."
'If only he knew,' Susan thought to herself, still hoping to salvage her marriage without having to tell him what she had overheard tonight, just as her father had counselled all those years ago.
"I told you, honestly, that when I awakened from a drunken stupor spooning with a woman I thought to be you, I got an erection that immediately began to seek its home. You know how much cum I produce, of how the kids in school used to tease me and call me
hog balls
. In the hour before my complete debasement by my formerly loving wife," that one drew a deep, wracking sob from Susan, "I remembered that as my cock slithered across her pubic hair; it was as dry as a bone. If I had fucked her and cum in her, it would have been drooling out of her pussy all night long and her pubic hair and legs would be covered in cum, as yours always are, and we'd probably be lying in a puddle of it.
"If I had cum on her elsewhere, it would have been all over her and everything else. When I realized it was not you I was holding, I jumped away from her like I'd been scalded. I turned down her offer of morning sex, got out of bed, and began to dress. She displayed her full frontal nudity as she begged me to come back to bed and fuck her, saying we'd be accused of anyway, so we may as well enjoy it. I once again declined her offer and saw that she was pristine, not a drop of cum anywhere on her. I didn't recall that until I had that hour before the candle of my love was all but extinguished to wallow in my thoughts and realize I had not touched her. Given what's happened, my punishment for being truthful and forthright with my wife as I always hoped she would be with me, that is little consolation. As they say,
No good deed ever goes unpunished
."
"Oh, Keith, I am so sorry. I...," she sobbed as I raised my spread hand in the sign for "stop" cutting her off in mid-sentence.
"Not another word, Susan. I've heard and seen just about enough of your slutty, skanky, vow-breaking ass for one night. Let me tell you this, I will have my revenge, nothing that will land me in jail, but severe and ruthless nonetheless - heads will roll, marriages will fall. For openers, you may have noticed that the boner you forecast in your foul video never happened, and it may never again - at least not with you. My candle of love for you is right now on life support; it is a mere glowing ember. Whether it flickers out completely or once again burns brightly depends upon you. It depends on whether I can ever again trust you; secure that when you tell me you're off to visit your mother or some friend, that is exactly what you are doing instead of fucking some nameless, faceless stranger behind my back, and no, I will not be checking up on you or have you followed; I either trust you or I don't. If I don't, the candle will be cold and I'll be gone.
"It also depends on your regaining respect for me, if you ever even had any. What you did was a complete act of disrespect. If you respected me, you would have at least given me the benefit of the doubt. You would have respected the fact that I was totally honest with you and truly didn't know what happened; instead of shutting me completely out for three weeks while you had your dalliances with your fuck buddies. You would have talked it out with me, perhaps talked with Judy to see if she remembered having sex with me or showed any signs of having sex the next day."
"Oh, Keith, I love you, I do respect you," Susan sobbed. "I'll do everything I can to regain your love, your trust. Please don't stop loving me; I'd rather die than lose you."