Lost in Purgatory

Author's disclaimer.

This story is completely fictional and is, in a word, "Dark!" If you are not a true "literary masochist" you probably won't like it. If you are a literary masochist and choose to read my story, enjoy the angst!

*

I assume since you're still reading. You have read the disclaimer and decided to read my story.

But, before you proceed, please take a moment to get into the correct state of mind.

First, Conjure-up the theme music from Rod Serling's, The Twilight Zone, and his iconic voice.

Got it...

You may proceed.

"You are about to spend an evening in the mind of a man who has been blindsided by life!"

"ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!"

Soulmate

I reach out to close our laptop, my hand trembling, my heart ripped out and shattered, every nerve ending in my body on fire with the rage that is overcoming my complete despair. I slowly close the lid and push myself up from the kitchen stool, feeling like I might spontaneously combust as I turn and head down the hall to get my gun.

In my adrenaline-fueled rage, I have a clear vision of what I'm going to do to the two young men that, not five minutes ago, walked into my wife's motel room. I see them naked and groveling, begging for their lives, as I tell them,

"I hope it's the best fuck you ever had because it's sure as hell gonna be your last!"

I enter our bedroom, quickly move to the bed, reach into the hidden compartment of our headboard, and grab my 45-auto. The weight of the cold steel in my hand eases my anguish as I turn with purpose and head back down the hall.

In my vision: my loving wife is screaming in horror as she stares at the two lifeless men on the floor and backs across the motel bed into the headboard. I see the terror in her eyes when she looks up and sees the cold dead look in mine. Then I put a hole where the heartless bitch's heart is supposed to be.

I enter the kitchen, heading for my truck, my task now clear in my head. I know what I saw, and I could tell by the way she was talking to them it wasn't her first time. But I can't walk past the computer?

I stop in my tracks and slowly open the laptop, touch the mouse, and stare at the screen. It's split into four live feeds. One for each camera Gary installed.

Gary has been a private investigator for more than fifteen years and is an old friend from high school. I sure as hell never thought I would have to ask him to check up on my wife.

I look at the hidden (lamp) camera display and see my wife on her hands and knees, getting railed from behind while the other guy tightly grips her shoulder-length auburn hair and ruthlessly fucks her throat. When I look at the wide-angle (smoke alarm) camera, I see two more buff young men peeling out of their clothes. Then I look closer and see that there are four twenties laid out on the dresser...

Now!

Gary told me Lisa has been paying cash for the room, and that would more than cover

next week.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

I scream as I slam the butt of my gun down hard on the counter.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a black and tan blur speeding away from me.

My heart that was just ripped from my chest and shattered breaks all over again as I turn to see Spike cowering on his dog bed. He has never seen me truly angry, and I know how sensitive he is.

Spike is our ten-year-old Dachshund, and we love him like a child. Then, somehow forgetting about my plan to kill her, I find myself thinking, at least Spike will be happy to see his

mommy.

He has no idea she's a

cheating slut!

Then a deep sadness comes over me as I think about the countless times my wife, Lisa, has come through the door and stooped down to get a kiss from Spike, her

baby boy.

Now my heart is breaking for a whole other reason, as I think of Danny, Lisa's son. He was eight when I Married his mother fourteen years ago. Her first husband, Terry (who was not Danny's father either), did not treat them well.

It took some time for Danny to warm up to me. And me to him, to be honest. But I have come to love him as if he were my own son, and he has grown into a hard-working, good-hearted young man.

Danny is engaged to be married this fall, and a sharp painful lump pushes up my throat, knowing I won't be there for him. Then, again, forgetting about my plan to kill her, I hope our divorce doesn't ruin his plans.

I feel my rage building again as I remember that my first wife, Linda, was a cheating slut too. But with only one man at a time, as far as I knew.

I look back at the computer to see that the other two have joined in, and Lisa is

as happy as a pig in shit!

My adrenal glands, now spent. I only feel ill and a deep, loathing sadness as I look to the ceiling with tears flowing from my eyes.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO WRONG!"

I scream in anguish.

Then I hear the dog door flap and see that Spike has hightailed it outside, only compounding my sadness as I aimlessly pace around the kitchen, thinking about how all this started eleven days ago.

Lisa and I had gone to her little sisters for a Memorial Day barbeque. My wife is thirty-nine, and Shellie, her only sibling, is thirty-two. No one has ever said it out loud. But I've always had the impression that Shellie was an accident. Albeit a happy one.

It was a perfect day for a barbeque with a forecast high in the low eighties and not a cloud in sight when we left the house that afternoon. As far as I knew, I was taking on the world with the love of my life, my soulmate, and I was

as happy as a pig in shit

myself. I had never doubted for a moment that we would be together until the bitter end.

I was enjoying the feel of Lisa's little hand interlaced with mine on the twenty-minute drive to her sister's: It's just second nature for us. I'm forty-two and a big man at six foot three and a solid 220. I lift weights for a living. I've worked as a mason for twenty-four years, and most people find me intimidating at first, but they soon figure out I'm just a big teddy bear at heart.

We were only five minutes away when I heard Shellie's ringtone. Lisa gave me a sheepish smile and squeezed my hand as she reached into her purse to retrieve her phone. The Festivities had started at two, and we were running

a little late.

"Hey, sis, what's up?" Lisa asked, knowing why she called.

I couldn't make out what Shellie was saying as Lisa gave me a big eye roll.

"Well... Something came up!" Lisa said with a naughty smile as she squeezed my hand again.

I plainly heard Shellie's reply that time.

"Jesus! Do you two ever get out of bed?"

I rolled my eyes and put on my best (Who... Me?) innocent look.

Lisa burst out laughing, then quickly reeled herself back into a sniggering giggle.

"We're almost there, sis. Love you."

Shellie replied in kind, and Lisa hung up.

When we came through the backyard gate, there were at least two-dozen family, friends, and neighbors milling about and a dozen or more kids in the pool.

Shellie and her husband, Tom, smiled and waved.

"Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave!" Little Susie, Lisa's four-year-old niece, screeched as she came running, closely followed by her big brother Tommy, Lisa's seven-year-old nephew.

Little Susie latched onto my leg and hugged me tightly.

"Hey, Unc," Tommy said.

"Tommy,

my-man!"

I replied as we exchanged our usual fist bump.

Lisa and Shellie have always been very close, so Tommy and Susie see their aunt Lisa all the time. But I hadn't seen them since Easter.

"And... How are my favorite niece and nephew?" I facetiously asked.

Susie squirreled up her little face. "Uncle Dave, we are your only niece and nephew," She replied quite seriously as Tommy laughed.

Then I reached down, and little Susie stretched her arms up, giggling with anticipation of our

ritual.

Susie squealed with delight as I quickly lifted and tossed her high into the air. After several tosses, I set Susie down next to Tommy. Lisa lovingly hugged them, patted their heads, and sent them off to play with their friends. Then my loving wife blew me a kiss and headed off to mingle with the ladies.

I wandered over by Tom at the grill and grabbed a beer from the cooler.

"How's it hanging, Dave?" Tom asked with a smart-ass grin, knowing why we were late.

"Can't complain," I replied as I noticed the dark circles under Tom's eyes.

Tom and Shellie have been married for almost ten years, and have always seemed very happy. So I just wrote off the dark circles to his second shift job and Shellie's big promotion about four months ago.

Tom works as a maintenance tech at an automotive parts factory, and Shellie works for a big industrial computer software company. Her promotion was a nice bump in salary. But I wasn't so sure it was really a promotion. It seemed like the job no one else wanted. She was jetting around the country doing software upgrade seminars every week.

~

I pace and wave my arms around, mumbling to myself like a

madman,

vaguely aware of the gun in my hand, as I recall the moment everything started to unravel.

Shellie was doing Friday seminars and leaving right from work on Thursdays to catch a plane. So Lisa has been helping out by babysitting until Tom gets home from work around eleven-thirty.

I was shooting the shit with Tom while he flipped the burgers and rolled the hot dogs around on the grill. At some point, I casually mentioned that I was getting a lot done around the house on Thursday evenings and was glad Lisa could help out by babysitting the kids until he got home from work.

Tom was taking a pull off his beer and almost choked. I sympathetically slapped his back a couple of times, and when he caught his breath, he quickly sputtered out an insincere platitude. "Ya--yeah, she's been a big help, and we really appreciate it."

Tom seemed like a man caught between a

rock and a hard spot,

and I had just leaned on the

rock.

That was the first time I ever felt a pang of doubt about Lisa. I wasn't sure what to think and decided not to press the issue as I told Tom I was getting hungry and waved my thumb toward the buffet. He gave me a thin smile, and I headed for the deck to fill a plate and sit with my wife.

I wasn't sure of anything at that point and found myself trying to explain it away as I looked over the impressive spread. I started filling my plate and glanced in my wife's direction. Lisa saw me and grinned as she gave me a

naughty come-hither

gesture. I reflexively smiled back, finished loading my plate, and made my way to the table.

When I sat next to Lisa, she leaned against my shoulder and lovingly stroked my arm, and I was pretty sure I had misread the whole thing.

But I couldn't let it go, and by Tuesday, I was having lunch with Gary. He wasn't a close friend. But he knew Lisa and me well enough, and Gary knew how much we loved each other.

When I told Gary what set off my

alarm-bells,

he almost laughed, and I felt pretty silly. Then Gary told me he sees this kind of thing more often than you might expect and said I probably had misread things and that he would personally look into it just to set my mind at ease.

~

A familiar sound catches my ear, and I stop pacing. I've heard it a thousand times before, and I turn to see three of the four live feeds showing different views of the same scene.

I click on the lamp camera icon, and the image fills the screen. The HD picture and crystal-clear sound are almost overwhelming as her gurgling moans escape around the cock, thrusting balls deep in her throat. Lisa is still on her hands and knees getting

spit-roasted,

and from this POV, I can see her thighs shaking as she pulls the cock out of her mouth and demandingly howls,

"FUCK ME HARDER!"

I feel much more than a pang as my stomach twists hard and pushes into my throat. But I can't look away as the guy fucking her from behind takes her demands to heart and starts slamming her for all he's worth. Then my wife takes the young man's cock back into her mouth, and he happily continues fucking her throat, muffling the moans of her building orgasm.

One of the

four

young men has slid under her and is greedily groping and sucking her perfect thirty-four C tits. While opposite the camera, the last one is kneeling beside her. He is tightly gripping a hand full of hair on the back of her head and holding her fast against each ruthless thrust as he rapidly rubs her clit with his other hand.

Her whole body is shaking, and my guts roil as Lisa goes over the edge and starts squirting on the young man's pounding cock. I see the sheets getting darker with each hard thrust as he growls and grunts, dumping his seed. Then the guy fucking her face makes one last hard balls-deep thrust and grunts out obscenities as he pumps his cum down her throat.

I can tell she is in the throes of one of her long rolling orgasms as they pull out their bareback, cum covered, cocks and she collapses face down on the bed, shaking and moaning.

I set my gun down, and my legs instinctively lurch me toward the kitchen sink as bile races up my throat. I violently hurl and lose the few bites of dinner I was able to eat. Then continue to heave with nothing more to give as the unbearable twisting pain keeps me doubled over.

When my retching finally relents, I reach up and flip on the faucet to wash away the remains. Then I lift my head and see what I wish was a

Cougar gangbang porno

on the computer as the buff young men give each other high-fives and grunt out crude approvals of how hard they just made my wife cum.

I hang my head back in the sink, and cup water into my mouth, trying to wash away the burning putrid taste that is somehow complementing the utter despair clawing at my soul.

My stomach is knotted and twitching when I lift my head and see Lisa roll onto her back with that dreamlike lustful look on her face: I know so well.

"Who's up for sloppy seconds?" She asks with cum running from the corners of her mouth as she grabs a half-hard cock in each hand and starts stroking.

I close the laptop and grab my gun, knowing deep down, I could never hurt Lisa, and I would have run out of steam long before I got to the motel. I have never raised a hand to her, and I can count on one hand how many times I have raised my voice in an argument. And how can I blame those young guys? Hell, before I married Linda, if a

Hot cougar

like Lisa would have told me (all the pussy you can handle for the price of a room). I'da been all over that.

I start pacing, knowing that I will never be able to look at her without those images flashing through my brain as the hard-twisting lump in my throat sucks the life out of me.

I glance at the clock. It's 8:41 p.m.

Lisa knows I don't expect her home much before midnight and it's about a thirty-minute drive from the motel. So, she has plenty of time for

sloppy seconds, thirds, and fourths.

"FUCK-FUCK-FUCK, I DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

I scream as I tightly grip the gun and shake my fists up at the God that I'm pretty sure doesn't exist anymore.

I pace around the living room, searching every nook and cranny of my memory, trying to figure out what I missed. Trying to figure out what I did wrong. Trying to figure out what is

wrong with me.

My knees are getting weak as I set my gun on the coffee table and flop onto our loveseat. I pull my arms tight across my chest and start rocking as a flood of painfully wonderful memories overcomes me.

My head feels like it's going to explode as I remember all the times we have sat here holding hands with our faithful baby boy, Spike, wedged between us: as I remember all the times we have necked, groped, and had wild sex in this very spot.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Spike warily peeking his head through the dog door. A sharp surge of anguish causes my neck to tense and my shoulders to pinch. But after a moment, I manage to pat my knee, and Spike tentatively pushes through the flap, his tail wagging at half-mast, ever hopeful as he warily comes to me.

He looks up expectantly, and I muster a painful smile. Then Spike jumps onto the loveseat, sniffs his mommy's spot, and curls up against my leg with a sigh. I want to pet him, but I can't stop rocking as I flashback to the day I met Lisa almost fifteen years ago.

It was a Wednesday, and I had gone to Jerry's Bar and Grill to get a beer and some dinner. I had only been divorced from Linda for about three months and didn't feel like eating alone in my empty house; again.

I was still pretty raw and hadn't even considered getting back out there, as they say, when I slipped into a booth, looked up, and saw Lisa coming to take my order.

In those days, the waitresses at Jerry's wore low-cut white blouses with short black skirts. But I was mesmerized, by much more than her outfit, as she walked to the booth. She had a genuinely happy smile on her pretty face and moved with a natural feminine grace.

"What would you like to drink -- Big Guy," she asked sweetly.

I was lost in her pretty brown eyes and finally choked out. "I--I'll have a bottle of Bud."

Then she leaned in closer, and I couldn't help but notice her perfect cleavage as she set the menu down.

"Do you know what you want to eat... Or, do you need a moment?" she asked with some definite innuendo.

I cleared my throat. "Um... I might need a moment -- or two," I replied with a timid smile and some innuendo of my own.

Her face lit up with a big smile. "Okay, I'll be right back with your beer," she said.

When she walked away, feminine would not begin to describe the way her hips were moving. Then she looked over her shoulder with a little smirk of a smile to see if I was watching. I was definitely watching her five-foot-six tight shapely body move. Later that evening, I found out she had only been working there since Monday, and I started eating at Jerry's every night.

My stomach twists like a pile of snakes as I remember the first time I asked Lisa out. I had gone to Jerry's for dinner, and of course, to see Lisa. It had been two weeks since we met, and I was still a little gun shy from my divorce. But I really liked her, and I could tell she liked me too.

Whenever Lisa had a few minutes, she would come to my booth to talk. She struck me as a wise old soul, and sometimes when we were talking, I would catch a sad edge in her smile, that made me think she had gained some of her wisdom the hard way.

That evening, when Lisa brought my beer, she set it down and slid her hand over mine.

"I know you're a big tough guy... But, I have known from the moment we met that you are a gentle soul," She said.

I was speechless as she squeezed my hand with a caring smile and then went back to work.

Later that night, I got up the nerve to ask Lisa if she would like to go out for dinner and dancing sometime.

She said she would love to and told me she was working the early shift Saturday and would be done by three. I knew she had a son, Danny, and I told her I would cover the babysitting.

"That's okay. My sister won't charge me a dime. Hell, she would keep Danny if I let her," Lisa chuckled as she wrote her number and address on my receipt.

I picked Lisa up at seven and took her to a much classier place than Jerry's for dinner. Then I took her to the best dance club in town, but we hardly danced at all and spent most of the night talking.

By the end of the night, we were finishing each other's sentences and having to decide whose turn it was when we started to speak at the same time. I knew that night I would spend the rest of my life with her.