All the usual rules apply. Nobody under eighteen. No relation to reality. Its a fantasy! Be nice in your comments. This is way way over the top. You have been warned.
*****
"No, no, no...you're doing it all wrong!" Pat said. I tried to make corrections, to do it the way she wanted, but it seemed like I just never got it right. I guess I just don't have the knack for cunnilingus, as no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to satisfy my wife. Pat never seemed to enjoy my ministrations.
"Thanks for trying, let's just forget it for tonight." She was in no way going to forget my inability. She regretted marrying me for the umpteenth time. She could have married her first boyfriend Steven. Should-a, could-a, would-a...oh well. What's done, is done.
"Calvin" she said. "We have to talk...I want a separation. I...we haven't been happy for a long, long time. I can see that you are trying, so I'm not asking for a divorce yet. But I'm tired. I'm really tired of the arguments. I don't want to hear it any more. I'm tired picking up after your ass all the time. I... I want to take a break, a little vacation from each other."
"What about our vacation down to Jamaica? We...I have been looking forward to it for a while." I asked hopefully. Her face was a mask of... hatred? Annoyance? Definitely not love, like or even a trace of respect. If her expression was true, then our union was already destroyed. I guess I just didn't want her to go, as I still held out a slim hope, as I still loved her. The love was one way though. At least it seemed that way.
"I've decided to take my sister, not you.. I'm sorry, but the thought of being cooped up with you down there for three weeks. Forget it! It is my vacation, I won it at my job." She intoned. She really didn't give a shit about MY feelings at all.
"But you're my WIFE. We're supposed to be together. How can we work things out If you pull this little stunt? Do you want a divorce?" I asked her sincerely.
"Cal, I'm going to make this simple. I'll use small words. I WANT A BREAK. I am going. You are not. I'm not sure about divorce yet. Get the fuck over it. I want you to look for an apartment. For you. I want you out. So get the fuck out! Three weeks is plenty of time to find a place." She had the claws out now.
"For how long? FOREVER? I thought you just wanted a vacation break. Now it's goodbye?" I was stunned. Who was this woman who looked just like my wife? Or had things just degenerated to the point where we where no longer married, just cohabitating...Little more than roommates. She really didn't want me anymore, she was communicating that fact to me loud and clear.
"Why don't you go learn how to eat pussy? Get a book, rent a video. Google it. Ask a lesbian. I'm sick and tired of trying to teach you." She looked at me with those eyes of disgust. For her, I couldn't do anything right.
"What about counseling?"I asked.
"What about it?" She said.
"Well do you want to try it?"
"Maybe... I'll think about it." I could see her thinking, it will never ever happen.
"Pat..do you want to make love? It's been so long since we loved each other... I mean the flight is tomorrow... It will be a long time.." I was just hoping now. I was thinking this time might be the last time.
"No. No thank you. I'm tired. I just want to sleep." She turned away from me. In more ways than one, she had made her choices crystal clear. In a little while she was snoring lightly. I admired her bubble butt. She really had a great ass. Her tits, while not huge, were a very nice shape. I wasn't sure if they were C or D cup. Her nipples were always hard. I was pissed. At her, at myself, at the situation that I found myself in. I hated myself for loving her so much. It would be so much better if I didn't love the fucking bitch.
I had to pee. I got up, made my way to the bathroom. I didn't feel like getting back in bed. I went downstairs to the kitchen. I was getting a glass of milk when I almost tripped on something. I switched on the light. It was my wife's pocketbook. Damn thing was heavy. I had spilled things from her bag onto the floor. Her passport, reservations, lipstick, phone... Wait her phone was in the bedroom. What was this? It was new, I turned it on, it wasn't locked. I looked at the phone directory. This phone belonged to someone else, although it was identical to my wife's phone. She must have picked it up by mistake. Probably at her late sales meeting from this evening. She didn't even get home till ten pm. Who ever owned the phone might not even know it was gone. I called my phone, then realized it would wake up pat, I quickly turned down the ringtone.
I looked at the phone list once again. I looked at my phone - missed call from Pat Decker. Well, well. Too bad her married last name, my name, was Jones. So she's going back to her maiden name. Nothing says divorce like changing your name, right? I picked up the passport. Pat Decker. Had she legally changed her name back? Wow. I think you are required to use your legal name for your passport, so she was not using my name any more.
I had her phone in my hands. I decided to poke around in it. In the photo section, there were pics of her colleagues and co-workers. Many in embrace. Many, hell pretty much all of them seemed to be in hugs. Then there were the shirtless pics. Pool party? I was not invited apparently. Then there were the dick pictures. Big ones, little ones, black, brown, white, she had a whole file devoted to dicks. The only one I did not see was the dick attached to me. I sent ALL her pictures to my phone and my computer. Next I went to texts. She had lively conversations with all her male co-workers. Lots of innuendo and talk of getting together on Friday night. Fridays had been girls night out for years. I guessed she had been unfaithful for a long time. Ergo, the collection of penis photos. By the way, most of the cocks were up at attention, so I can guess how many blowjobs she was giving her male friends every week. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
I checked the latest conversation. She texted Robert Dixon, "hey all ready for tomorrow? Got your passport? Miss you."
'MISS YOU?'-What the fuck?-I thought. Obviously does not miss me.
Robert replied, "yup all packed! Got passport and visa.You got tickets?
Remember, non transferable. Don't know why we're packing clothes to a clothing optional resort. We're going to be naked on the beach. I can't wait to buttfuck you again. What did you tell that worm husband of yours? Why don't you just divorce him?" he held me in such high regard. I was going to knock out his teeth, one at a time.
The thought occurred to me. WOW! she never, ever gave me her ass! I guess she gave her new man lots of things I would never ever get, and at this point, did I even want her ass? She might be a Petri dish of social diseases for all I know. As for the divorce, well... that appeared to be a certainty now. Almost a foregone conclusion.
She texted, "yes, I got the tickets. Lame husband told to move OUT. Lawyer said he would have less claim against the house if he left willingly. Plus he will make a bunch more payments if he thinks there is a possibility of us getting back together. He really does love me. Very inept in bed, but he does have a nice cock."
All of this was news to me. At least she liked my dick. What house payments? I had paid off the mortgage many years ago. The house had been mine before we met. Unless...had she refinanced and not told me? If so, where was the money? How did she refinance without my signature? That dirty fucking criminal bitch. I would have to go to the county court and find out what she did. Probably forged my signature. Perhaps I should be talking to the district attorney.
Robert: "as big as mine?"
Pat: "no, he's about nine inches, not close to your twelve. He is thick tho. Even thicker than your big long cock! I like to fuck him once in awhile."
Robert: "mercy fuck?"
Pat: "yup. And it is a nice dick. Just not as nice as yours!"
I was flabbergasted. Well. I guess I know where I stand now. I sent all the phone conversations to my phone. Not that it made any difference anymore, but I guess I would have lots of evidence of her total disregard for me that would figure in the divorce, which I now saw as almost a certainty.
I downloaded one of those surreptitious keystroke programs. It would run in the background, and send the info to me daily. Even if found, it looked like a word game. You could actually play it! I then activated the tracking program, just to keep track of her whereabouts. I put the phone back after removing all traces I was there. I was an IT guy after all. That was my old job. Before I started the business.
I looked at the itinerary, two tickets, one in her maiden name, one for Robert Dixon. There was only one room. I put the things back, then on impulse, I took pictures of all that on my cell phone. Something for the lawyer. I wept. I cried. I knew in my brain that the marriage was dead, but my heart wanted to run into the bedroom and try to convince her...what? To love me? Why? I'm not sure she ever loved me. I grabbed my jacket and my laptop and car keys. I left.
~~~~~~~~~~
I went over to her sister's house. I wanted to know if she was in on this or not. Her husband Wayne answered the door. He said, "Why are you here in the middle of the night?" He was not at all congenial.
I said, "Problems with the wife...Just curious, how are you going to cope with your wife going down to the islands for three weeks?" I asked.
