Donna Goes to Coventry

If you haven't figured it out for yourself by now. I like stories where a man is put in a situation where he has only unpleasant choices. He then does a little thinking outside the box and comes out on top. Welcome to one of those stories. For US citizens, the title is explained at the end.

This story has two themes that I haven't seen before so strap in for the ride. I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it. Be warned, I have set myself a challenge during this one.

Once again set your review dictionary to English (Australian) rather than English (US) and hopefully all the blue and red squiggles will disappear.

Hearty thanks to XTCH for advice on the ending. Thanks also to Nancy for proof reading.

SPOILER ALERT. As this is a fairly long one I thought I'd give you a few hints. I hate wasting people's time. Read the rest of this paragraph if you want to only. It does involve a cheating wife and she does suffer. The hard core btb crowd may not think she suffers enough but thinking people will recognise her devastation.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you had asked me yesterday if I had a happy marriage, I would have said yes with a huge smile. Fuck, if you'd asked me at breakfast today, I'd have said the same. I pinched myself every day when I came home to prove I wasn't living a dream. I took a quick inventory. Job, one of, fun and rewarding, check. House, one of, big and fully paid off, check. Bank account, one of, pleasantly big and growing steadily, check. Wife, one of, attractive, loyal, reciprocates devotion, check. Kids, two of, boy and girl, 15 and 14 respectively, check. Life just couldn't get better.

The trouble was, this wasn't yesterday or breakfast this morning. This was here and now. 2.33PM today. And the world had just turned to shit. Bigtime.

Dave, Zero Hour

As I stood in the lounge downstairs I think I could be excused for feeling very confused. I'd heard of multiple orgasms but had never heard anything like what I just had. I knew I was sick, shit, that was why I was home three hours early. Why had I just heard my wife orgasm twice? At the same time!

Clutching my roiling belly, I staggered up the stairs and peeped around the master bedroom door frame. Normally the sight of my wife masturbating would have excited me, but I was too sick and confused to behave normally. I knew Donna was highly sexed. She still proves it at least three times a week even after 17 years.

Yes, there was Donna, my Donna, lying on our bed stark naked. Stomach temporarily forgotten, I noted her still lithe form lying there naked as the day she was born. Not only naked but with legs spread as far as they would go and both hands busy between them. Even as I watched her back arched in bliss at her second or was it third climax. I was so confused. I'd heard three but logically it can only have been two.

Ordinarily it would have been an extremely hot sight, but today it was far from it. You see, the arrangement of the bedroom gave me a side on view of our bed. Also it gave me a good view of the porn movie she was finding so exciting. Now I like porn as much as the next guy, but this particular porno had me angry and confused. Not the fact that Donna was the female lead in this particular one, but rather that I wasn't the male lead. I'm not that muscular or that blonde.

I quickly discounted the possibility that the movie had been made PM. Pre me. She definitely wasn't 17 years younger on the screen.

I watched my two wives come together. The one on the screen reverse cowgirling the unknown blonde guy. All three of them had their eyes squeezed shut. I vaguely noticed the bed on the screen and the bed under my real-time wife were one and the same. My brain couldn't handle either of the sights, so my eyes automatically left the bed and the screen. They fell on the bottom drawer of Donna's dresser, incongruously pulled all the way out.

Not distracted, or more likely spurred on by the sights in front of me, my stomach remembered why it was home early. I took it into the bathroom and worshipped the great porcelain goddess. As I passed the bed I heard a loud, "Oh fuck!"

Donna takes over the story

I was just coming down from my second orgasm. Over the years I had perfected my masturbatory technique. I used one of my various vibrators on my clit while I watched the screen at the end of the bed. Not for the first time, I tried to remember the guy's name. Was it Jeff or Jed, something like that anyway? Well it had been over three years ago. As my climax hit I pushed the vibrator deep into my pussy and started stroking my clitoris while I rode the waves of wonderful muscle spasms.

Suddenly I sensed, rather than saw or heard, movement near the bed. I opened my eyes just in time to see Dave disappear into the bathroom. All thoughts of pleasure vaporised. All that occupied my mind now was deep sorrow and regret. You wouldn't believe the amount of planning and effort that had gone in to making sure this day never arrived. In fact I was so sure that it wouldn't that I hadn't given one iota of thought on what I would do or say. All I could do was wait for my beloved husband to come out of the bathroom.

I stood up as he came out and searched his face for clues of how he was taking it all. Apart from a slightly confused look, his face was unreadable. I saw him glance over my shoulder. Fuck, I'd left the video running. I hadn't meant to rub his face in my betrayal like that.

I tried to stop him as he pushed past me, heading for the bedroom exit. He roughly pushed me backwards onto the bed. I was stunned. Dave was such a gentle man and hadn't laid a finger on me in that way before.

I was too late to stop him going down the stairs and into the basement spare bedroom. I heard the lock click as the door closed between us. Right at that moment my phone alarm went off, warning me that it was time to pick the kids up from school. Setting aside the necessary damage control of my marriage I left on my regular chore. It only took a little over 30 minutes and I was back. The door to the basement was still locked and there was no answer to my knocking. The kids were confused by my obvious worry and strange behaviour. When they asked what I was doing, I replied that their dad had come home early and for some reason had locked himself in the basement.

Kate, our youngest, knocked on the basement door and called her Dad. The door cracked open and there was a whispered conversation. Kate returned.

"Dad says he's sick and he doesn't want to contaminate us. He is going to stay in the basement till he's better. He said not to worry about him for dinner."

I then busied myself feeding the ravenous teenagers. If you've never been round teens you won't realise how much they can eat. Dave once joked that if there wasn't food in the pantry after school then the kids would probably eat the pantry door. There was still no sign of Dave when the kids went to bed at 9.30.

With no more excuses to distract myself, I decided to eat some humble pie. Rather than debasing myself by knocking on the basement door and possibly being ignored, I searched through our key collection in the bottom drawer in the kitchen. I found a likely looking one and was in luck when it opened the door. Flicking on the light before walking down the steps, I was struck by the pervading smell of vomit. Shit, maybe Dave really was sick. That would explain why he was home early.

Dave was lying on his side on the bed, facing the wall. He appeared pale and shrunken, nothing like the 6' 1" man I knew and loved. There was a bucket next to the bed, partly filled with sick. I took it to the bathroom, emptied and rinsed it out. Returning to the bed I noticed Dave hadn't moved a muscle.

My heart immediately went out to him. How could I have hurt this lovely man? This man who had worshipped me for almost 20 years, denying me nothing and spoiling me constantly. The best husband and father a girl could hope for. This pillar of our small community who donated so much of his spare time for others. Not only had he coached several mini league soccer teams that our children were in but even kept it up long after they'd lost interest. This man that went out of his way to act as mentor to all the boys in our street that didn't have fathers for one reason or another. Barely a weekend went past when there wasn't at least double the complement of children in our house than he'd sired. Sometimes our garden suffered because he was busy helping deserving local ladies who had no husband to do the heavy lifting for them. This picture of altruism. How could I have hurt him?

With deep shame and a heavy heart, I sat on the bed, leaned over and kissed him. He didn't respond but I could see his eyes were open. Desperately I tried to justify what he'd seen.

"I'm so sorry Dave, I should have told you at the time but I just couldn't bring myself to risk our marriage."

I waited for Dave to respond, turn to face me or even acknowledge my presence. Nothing.

"I did something really foolish three years ago darling. When you were away for a week I went to that bar just out of town with Janet. We got talking to two travellers. Two men. Well they bought us a few drinks and we were having a good time. It all seemed like innocent fun. I know I should have left when Janet did, but I foolishly stayed."

I paused, carefully picking my words. I instinctively knew I had to minimise the hurt.

"I tried to call a taxi to get home but they said it was an hours' wait. The guy that stayed with me offered me a lift home and I suppose that I was drunk enough to foolishly accept. He picked up another bottle of wine and brought me home. I guess I was grateful because when we got here I invited him in. Oh Dave, I think he slipped something into my wine. He was soon all over me and I just couldn't say no. He carried me up to our bedroom and made love to me. I guess it was the drug that made me lose all my inhibitions and I really got into it. I didn't even think it was wrong, or feel guilty at the time. He only left when the kids got home. I had to sneak him out the back door."

I paused, sniffing back my tears.

"The next day there was a DVD in the letter box with a note. The bastard must have secretly videoed us. The note said that unless I agreed to screw him every time he came through town, he would tell you. You would have been proud of me Dave. I called his bluff and told him to fuck off. I never heard from him again. I kept the DVD and was going to tell you, honestly Dave, but changed my mind when I realised I had been really stupid going to that bar in the first place. I changed my mind but never got around to throwing that DVD away."

It was impossible to read the expression on Dave's face. He still hadn't moved.

"Well, I found the DVD a month ago and watched it. Strangely it really turned me on. I forgot how humiliated I was at the time and just remembered how exciting it had been. It made me horny and I masturbated. I am ashamed to say that I have done that several times over the last month. Can you ever forgive me Dave?"

Finally Dave moved. Quickly he spun around, leaned over the edge of the bed and hurled into the bucket. I ran my fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he retched up his stomach lining.

"You poor darling. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Without moving his head out of the bucket, I saw his left hand groping for the bedside cabinet. Finding the handle of the bottom drawer he pulled it open. In absolute horror I saw what must have been all the other 27 DVDs from my collection. He must have retrieved them when I did the school run from their hiding place under the bottom drawer of my dresser. I suddenly needed my own bucket. Horrified, I bolted from the room. As I was leaving, Dave was rolling into his position facing the wall. I didn't realise till later that I'd left the door key on the bathroom sink.

In absolute panic, I was totally at a loss on what to do now. I had just compounded my mistake of cheating on my husband by bare faced lying to him. I really couldn't see how I would survive this one. I know, I'll ring my best friend Janet. She always knows what to do. Luckily she answered on the 4

th

ring.

"Janet, you have to help me. Dave found all my DVDs this afternoon, he's gone ballistic."

"Fuck Donna, I told you it was stupid to record all your flings and keep all the shows."

"And I told you Janet, I was only doing it for Dave's sake. It meant I only had to find a new guy every month or so. Watching the movies afterwards allowed me to, er, relieve the pressure, if you know what I mean. If it wasn't for the movies I would have had to go to the bar every week. It's not Dave's fault he couldn't keep up with me when I started feeling horny all the time three years ago. Oh Janet it gets worse. He came home early and saw me wanking to one of the videos of me and one of the meats. I tried to pretend it was only one time but he'd already found all the other discs. He must have seen my hiding place when he caught me."

"Donna, please tell me you got rid of the DVD with me on it, the one of us having a foursome on your bed. That would fuck me up as well." I couldn't believe she was being so selfish.

"Don't worry Janet, I said I would and I did."

"He doesn't know about the sloppy seconds' thing does he?"

"Come on Janet. That only happened a couple of times when I couldn't refuse Dave after one of my flings. Although I have to admit they were kind of hot and they are some of my favourite shows. No that was much more your thing than mine."

"What do you think Dave will do Donna?"

"I just don't know Janet. That's why I rang you."

"Well, I think you have him over a barrel Donna. He can't really divorce you without admitting you have been screwing around on him for three years. It will all come out and he will be the laughing stock of the whole town. No Donna, you can be sure he won't say a damn thing. He has way too much face to lose. If he tries to go for one of those no fault things you can always hint that you'll put the word around. That would just kill him."

"No Janet, I could never do that, I think. No, I'll just have to eat some major humble pie for a while and hope he snaps out of it. I can't afford to lose him, I love him too much."

"Okay Don, you start sucking up. Just remember not to implicate me in all this. It would really complicate things for me and Reg. Speak to you tomorrow girlfriend."

"Okay, till tomorrow, bye Janet."

Just before I hung the phone up I heard, "Yeah, bye Janet," in a masculine voice. I had forgotten the extension in the basement hadn't I. Desperately trying to recall everything I'd said over the last 10 minutes, I collapsed sobbing on the bed. What have I done? I knew I'd always been able to wrap Dave around my little finger but knew I would be pushing shit uphill this time. I knew our easy communication would be missing. I consoled myself with the knowledge that nothing was my fault and I had done everything I could to minimise the disrespect to my Dave. He should be happy that I'd controlled my urges in such a discrete way, I just had to get him to realise that.

My mind went back to just over three years ago. Two weeks after my 43

rd

birthday. Everything I'd told Dave earlier had been absolutely true. Well nearly. The first step in damaging my marriage did happen when he was away for a week. I was feeling horny, as I was increasingly so those days. That was the day Janet came round and the conversation turned to sex. Then it turned to extra marital sex. Janet confided that for years she had been seeking solace outside her marriage. I didn't recognise that her motivation was very different to any I might have. Apparently her Reg was neither that interested nor gifted in the sex department. I remember zoning out for a while thinking about my Dave. My husband WAS interested in sex. Lots of sex. I decided not to make Janet jealous by going into Dave's superior endowment and well-practiced skills.

For the sake of our friendship I shook myself out of my reverie and concentrated on what Janet was saying. With little encouragement she described how she sought satisfaction by going to the bar just out of town in the mid-afternoons. That was when the travelling salesmen normally checked in, before relaxing in the bar. She would choose her target and spend the afternoon getting fulfilment. In the two years she had been doing it, Reg had never even come close to catching her.

Ignoring the fact that there were few similarities between her situation and mine, my mental slide into infidelity began. To satisfy my growing insatiable urges I would follow Janet's lead but with small differences. Rather than go to the guy's motel room, I would bring them home. I figured that if I could video the action I could then watch the tape over and over, satisfying myself while Dave wasn't home. Christ, I may only have to do it once and get years' worth of fantasies. Even as Janet continued to talk, I considered my plan and the more I thought of it the hotter I got.

In my head I had planned. If I did it on my day off it would be simple. Arranging for the kids to go somewhere else after school would give me three to four hours before Dave got home. There were plenty of places to hide a camera in our bedroom.

In the present, the dark depressing present, I thought of the risks I had taken. For the first time I wondered whether, rather than acting on my dreams, I should have sought help.

When, two days later, Janet told me she was going on the hunt again, I didn't hesitate. As I said, everything I'd told Dave about the first time was absolutely true. Well, apart from the drugging and blackmail thing that is. My first time had been incredibly hot and it was still one of my favourite recordings. But the images hadn't kept me going for years. In fact, it was barely seven weeks. But hey, that was much better than going out every week or so wasn't it. Dave had to understand that.

Thus satisfied with my self-delusion, I planned my reconquest of Dave.

Dave didn't cooperate. He was still locked in the cellar when we all left the next morning, refusing to even answer our knocking. The kids were worried, but I assured them their Dad was just needing some time to get over his sickness.

About lunchtime a dark thought struck me. Could Dave have harmed himself overnight? I arranged to take the afternoon off and rang a locksmith to meet me at our house. I explained that we had accidently locked the basement door and didn't have a key. It was scary how quickly he had it open. I ushered him to the front door, thinking again what a hunk he was, and went back down the basement steps.

Dave was in exactly the same position as I had left him last night. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, watching his face until I saw him blink. Having had all night and day to think, I launched into my defence. This time I told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The urges, the trysts, the movies, the clever way I had found to minimise my, er...excursions, the works. I reassured him of my love and continued devotion.

I'd decided, before coming home, that I was going to leave my defence there. I would sit back and let Dave vent his anger at me any way he chose. I knew Dave as well as myself and fully expected his angry tirade.

What I got. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He just lay there, facing his blank wall. If it wasn't for the faint breathing and occasional blinking he might have been dead. I snuggled up against his back. If I couldn't convince him of my love with words then I would try by action. I gave up after 10 minutes feeling a bit silly when he didn't move a muscle.