Looking Back 12

This story is totally made up, as in fiction. There isn't a lot of sex in it either at least not in the graphic stroke material way.

There is an old English saying that says "Pride goeth before a fall." Actually the saying is adapted from the bible verse that says "Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall. I'd say vanity is also a path to destruction and a fall.

*****

Doug's Story

I guess looking back I should have known there was trouble. But you know the old saying about love being blind. Well in many cases it is all too true.

My wife of 18 years turned out to be an unfaithful slut. Oh there were signs and I'm sure many people knew before I did but the blind thing, well it's real.

Since we will be discussing her in some detail let me fill in the usual details and some background. Karen is a Southern Girl born and raised. She's the middle child of five children with two older brothers and two younger sisters.

Most of her life growing up they were just doing okay on what her dad made laying bricks. They didn't have the latest clothing or newest trends in clothes. They were not dirt poor but there was never much extra money either. This only matters to set a frame of reference for her later years. When we met she was still a shy little mouse of a thing and not very self-confident. God I wish I hadn't changed that.

Back when we met she was a 5'4" brunette with blue eyes and weighed about 115 pounds. She was an A cup at best but had this really nicely shaped ass. Didn't matter to me if she was small in the chest, I've always been an ass man.

She had a pretty face even though she had her family's trait of a week jaw. It gave her a bit of a buck toothed look even though she had nice pretty teeth. This was the first thing she wanted fixed after we got together and could afford the bills. I have to admit it changed a once just pretty girl into someone quite beautiful. And I wasn't the only one that noticed. It should have set off the alarm bells then but didn't. That blind thing again.

You see it always struck me as odd that when I would complement her she never acted like she appreciated it. For example I would tell her that her new hair style really looked good and showed her face well, and get just a thanks Hun and maybe a peck on the cheek. Same went for dresses, jeans, and shoes, whatever. Now if someone else tells her the same thing she just loves it. Never made much sense to me but I kind of just assumed that when it came from me it was expected and somehow less valued.

This wasn't all bad however since after she would get these unsolicited compliments she was usually in a pretty good mood. And the saying goes "If momma isn't happy then nobody's happy". But it did get somewhat tiresome after a while. I know that as her husband I am expected to say nice things and all that but I did truly mean what I told her.

And really it didn't start out that bad. She'd get a compliment from some random guy and it would just cheer her up and not much else. Then she got to like and expect the attention.

So once the bills were caught up she decided she wanted to have a breast augmentation. Only that's not the way it was presented at first. In the beginning it was sold as something for me. Comments like "would you like it if my tits were bigger?"

Now if you've never had to go through this count yourself lucky. I took the stand early on that there was nothing about her body that needed to be changed, enhanced, or whatever else you might call it. I said I believed she was sexy and beautiful just as she was.

So the tact changed to "would you be okay if I had it done for me?" And just what can you say to that? I still felt it was a big expense and some risk for something I really felt she did not need.

And she did it of course. Having the augmentation did seem to be good for her. And once she was fully healed I will admit that the sex was off the charts.

There were benefits to me that I hadn't expected. For one she didn't seem as shy when we did have sex. I know that seems weird even now but when I look back there was a definite difference. Mostly little things like how before we almost always had the covers pulled over us and after she would usually throw them off.

Oh and then there was her new found joy at having her tits fucked. That one threw me way off the first time. We had been having a nice slow session and I was enjoying one of my favorite ways to play. You see as an ass man my favorite position was to have her on top in the classic cowgirl setup and then get some nice slippery lotion to apply to her ass. Rubbing those soft warm cheeks while she rides my cock is always a favorite.

And that time was no different, until it was. She rode me my hard dick with her usual style while my hands explored her ass. She is multi-orgasmic and she did cum more than once while we played. I was getting close myself and being the gentleman I am let her know that the riding pole would be closing soon so she needed to finish her ride soon.

Typically that bit of news would make her pick up the pace until she had her final orgasm and if we got lucky mine would happen at the same time.

What happened that time was she slowly stopped riding me and lifted her body off mine. She then lay on her back and squirted some lotion between her breasts and told me to "fuck my tits baby!" Now I didn't complain then and it's not a complaint now but it seemed to come from nowhere. I mean we never even talked about this like we usually did with all our other sexual play.

But I am a guy and it was something new and well fucking her tits was awesome. And that first time after I had cum on her tits I knew I'd never pass the offer up. And I never did.

So yes there were positive things with her augmentation. And I did like the changes it seemed to create in our bedroom. But we can't stay in the bedroom forever can we.

Out in the world her new boobs were much better for her than they were me. Throughout the jaw reconstruction ordeal and the uptick in her self-esteem at least I could say that she was prettier and was just getting some compliments. For the most part people were nice and the comments were nice as well.

The boobs however made her sexier, more desirable and just hotter. The nice compliments from the jaw surgery were so much easier for me to take than the comments and leers she got with the boob job. The comments bordered on crude at times and were almost always related to some sexual innuendo.

To make it worse she was eating it up. New dresses and blouses almost always had a more revealing neckline. And the dresses also seemed to be a lot shorter. Since she didn't mind the attention the guys got bolder. People I thought were my friends would openly flirt with her and if I said anything I was the bad guy.

One night we were in a club and after a while it dawned on me Karen had a beer in her hand every time that I saw her but she didn't have her purse with her and I hadn't paid for one of them. I asked her how she had been getting them and she laughed and said she had shown the bartender her tits for each one.

We had a long talk about that one the next day but I knew it didn't sink in. She absolutely loved it. When she was drinking I had to watch her at all times or some clown would simply ask to see them and she would oblige. Her behavior was getting embarrassing at times and when I told her that she offered to go by herself so I wouldn't be embarrassed. Yeah like that was a real option.

As her flirting and flashing happened more often so did our fighting. And I was tired of guys openly ogling her in front of me. So I asked her to tone it down and show me some respect. I told her I loved her and that I understood how the attention made her feel but she needed to understand how it made me feel.

And for a while she did. She still dressed sexy, still flirted but in a more subdued manner and she still enjoyed the attention but there weren't any flashes that I knew of. We were doing well and things seemed to have settled down at least outside the bedroom. Inside our bedroom she was still my dream come true. And since the fighting had stopped the sex had been very good.

And then she met Rachel. Rachel started working with Karen about a year after the enhancement and about six or seven months after she had finally toned down the public shows.

I had a bad feeling about Rachel the first time I met her but there was no way I was going to win in that fight. Karen had taken on a mentor type role with the new girl and felt she needed to help her get settled not just at work but in her new city as well.

This inevitably led to them being off on lunch dates and shopping trips to finally girl's nights out. Let me tell you that a single friend is the biggest danger a marriage can have, on either side. Single, younger, very pretty, and just a bit wild single girlfriends are deadly. And Rachel was all of that in triplicate.

The first couple girls nights out were not bad. Karen came home at a reasonable hour and while she had been drinking didn't seem drunk. I know she flirted and danced those nights because she nearly fucked me to death afterward but who's going to complain.

Then the nights out began to occur more often and last longer. And we were beginning to argue about them. I was sure her new friend was a bad influence but didn't know just how bad. I tried asking just general questions about the nights out and Karen immediately became guarded. There had to be more to the story.

I had to know what was going on and nobody was going to tell me. So I did what any guy would do under the circumstances. I followed them one night. They went to a club that Karen had always said was "too young" for us. Meaning the crowd was much younger than us.

It was however just the right age for Rachel. And Karen being a little older woman by herself wasn't going to be a problem. Me, well I was going to stand out something awful in there.

Gritting my teeth I waited until they had been inside for a little while before going in. The place was fairly well packed especially near the dance floor. But I managed to get a spot at the bar where I could see most of the club.

Now it might have been only twenty minutes since they had come in but there they were in a booth by the dance floor with two guys. Rachel was sitting with some blonde haired surfer clone on one side and Karen sat across the table from her with a dark haired and dark skinned man or should I say boy. He looked barely old enough to drink.

There were all sorts of things wrong with this picture. And the alarm bells in my head were so loud they drowned out the music. I wanted to go over and confront her but did not want the fight it would cause. If she was just flirting and dancing we could talk through it later.

If it was a date, or something more, our relationship wasn't likely to survive it. So I took a wait and see approach and hoped for the best.

And I saw the worst. It didn't take long really. The first dance was a slow number and he was all over her. They danced for maybe the first minute and dry humped the rest of the song. His hands went wherever they wanted and his tongue spent as much time in her mouth as it did his.

Rachel and her guy were no better but she wasn't my concern. My only problem was what to do about Karen.

I needed to stop this, actually I needed to try and get her to stop it. We had argued earlier and I thought I might use that to text her and apologize, and hopefully convince her to come home before she did something we could not overcome.

When she finally stopped humping his leg and sat back at the table I quickly sent a message saying "sorry we were fighting again, I love you". From where I was sitting I could see her look at her phone and pick it up. After she read the message she just placed the phone back on the table. Not a good start.

As a last chance for her to save us I sent this message "please come home or at least call me so we can talk" and then I watched and waited. Finally I could see her tapping on the phone and hoped for the best. What I got was "I'll be home later having fun with the girls."

And after she sent that she turned to her "date" and kissed him. That turned into a heavy petting session that didn't allow me to believe that they hadn't already had sex together. Even if they hadn't before it looked a sure thing tonight.

My world was collapsing in front of me and I knew we were done. She had gone to a place we couldn't come back from. Truth is seeing her with him told me that no matter what she had or hadn't done I could never have faith in her again. And without faith there is no marriage.

The next dance was a fast number but somehow worse than the first. She basically gave him a standing lap dance. He explored all of her body while she ground her ass into his crotch. People were pointing and staring but she didn't care. The "dance" finished with her kissing Rachel as the two guys ground their hips into each girls ass. They moved back to the table and the kissing began again.

I watched as the make out session continued and saw my wife part her legs as his hand slid under her dress. The kiss broke as she laid her head back on the booth cushion. Her eyes were closed and her chest was heaving in what I knew were early signs she was going to cum. There could be no doubt he was rubbing and fingering her pussy now.

I wasn't the only one watching the show; other people in the bar were nudging each other and pointing to the spectacle. Rachel and her date were almost as busy so the four were in their own little world as I crossed the room.

My arrival at the table happened to be just as she started to cum. Her face was buried in his neck as she squirmed and humped his probing fingers. She was so lost in the moment that she didn't realize I had grabbed her hand until my Grandmothers Wedding ring was nearly off her finger.

When her eyes flew open I had the ring in my hand. I pocketed the family heirloom and proceeded to slip the gold band from my own ring finger. She was still trying to recover from both her orgasm and shock when my ring bounced across the table in front of her.

Today's cars are vastly superior to those made just a decade ago. My Taurus SHO will allow you to put an amazing amount of distance between objects in just minutes. I was miles away before the phone rang. I rejected the call of course. It was a bit too late to talk now.

I went home, well back to the house that used to be our home, and threw some things in a bag I might need in the next couple days. And in no more than fifteen minutes I was on my way to somewhere else.

As I hit the on ramp of the interstate the phone rang and I hit the hands free button to reject it. It was her of course; I pressed the power button on the phone and shut it off. It would become ugly if I talked to her right now.

All I knew was I needed to be alone and think. My mind is an analytical mind; all my life people have told me they envied my ability to solve problems so quickly. But it's a curse really because it simply cannot ignore a problem. There will be no rest until it solves a problem.

So while the machine in my head chews the data and shifts the puzzle pieces around I drive headed nowhere in particular. The problem is no matter which way the pieces are arranged they will not mesh together. My mind knows what is wrong; it's obvious really the pieces that represent anger and hurt are way too large to fit, and the piece that represents love has shrunk greatly. The piece that was trust is missing in action and it won't be just a matter of looking under the table for it.

Ah but therein lies the problem. Hurt and anger could easily fill the spots left vacant by love and trust. Trust is gone but love although shrunken is still there. Love isn't a switch you just flip to off and forget. I had loved her through all of the times we were together. I loved her when I was angry at her for showing her tits to the barman, I loved her when she ignored my compliments and adored those from others, and I loved her when she seemed to move past all of that. I may not have liked her or how she acted at times but I loved her.

Love isn't just a remembrance of the good times but also remembering the difficult times and overcoming them as a team. So there's the problem my mind faces; the pieces will not fit but it knows they always fit before now so it stubbornly tries to force them to fit.

So I drive just following the headlights as the machine churns and tries to make it all better. Happy times float across the back of my eyes as the machine tries to reduce the hurt and anger pieces. But each passing is only a temporary relief and the pieces seem to swell larger after each attempt.

Gradually the real world forces it presence on me and I realize a several things; first is I need to find a rest room with some urgency, second is the car needs gas, third is I have no idea where I am, and lastly that I have been fortunate thus far to not have killed myself or others driving in my near zombie state.

For the first time in recent months luck is with me and I found the three things I needed most in life; a gas station to fill one tank and empty another, a fair selection of cookie cutter chain hotels, and a liquor store.

I checked into one of the hotels after getting a large bottle of rum. I know me and my mind, like I mentioned earlier there would be no piece until the pieces all fit. And they can't fit right now it will be a long time before they truly fit together again. So the only other option is to try and scramble all the inputs enough that the mind will shut down from the bad data.

It worked in some ways because the next thing I remember was severe disorientation when I woke up and found myself in a strange room. For a few blissful moments there was only the puzzle of how the hell I ended up there to work on.

But once the pieces of that puzzle started to make a picture it was an ugly sight. The picture changed and morphed through a series of horrible images. Terrible images of her dancing with him, then kissing him, and then the image of her head thrown back as he made her cum rotated through my mind's eye.

I began to cry and could not tell you how long that lasted. I do know it was long into morning before I dragged into the shower and finally got dressed.

I needed coffee in the worst way; my head still ached from the rum. And I understood that I needed to eat something even if there didn't seem much point to it. Like most places in the south where there are hotels there was a Waffle House.

The coffee helped immensely and having some greasy eggs and bacon to help absorb the left over alcohol did wonders.

In the harsh light of the new day I came to some conclusions. They sucked but there didn't seem to be many options left.

First was that I needed to call her and get the nasty business started. I already know there were only a couple ways this could go. One she could accept how badly she screwed up and not try to excuse her behavior. She could basically take a guilty plea and throw herself on the mercy of the court. Or option two follow the unfaithful's hand book and try to minimize both the issue and the damage.

As my phone powered back up I weighed the odds and while I hoped for option one I loved her deeply once and knew her all too well, it was probably going to be option two. There were tons of missed calls and texts from her. And the analyst in my head carefully noted the first call from the home phone was shortly after my hasty departure. I smiled a bit thinking I had ruined his evening before the analyst pointed out that he may have spent the night there since I was missing in action. Mistrust in someone is as cruel mistress.