My Cheating Wife 7

I had just finished my shower, looked at myself in the mirror, and realized why my wife of 20 years was cheating on me. Well, maybe not the only reason but I know it was one of them. 'Holy shit Bob,' the little voice in my head said, 'You look like shit.'

I don't know when it happened but I'm starting to look old, fat, and out of shape. I know I'm 55 but come on.

'It's time for a change Bob you fat fuck,' that little voice said.

Fuck, no more snacks, and no more beer. Liquor? Vodka? Vodka should be okay and it's less filling too.

No more fried food and I'm gonna eat more salads and fruit. 'You also need to get your fat ass to the gym, or you'll never get your wife back.' He was right.

Next, I looked at my face in the mirror, turned side to side, and played with my jowl. At least it hadn't dropped yet. I should make an appointment for a new hairstyle and trim up my beard, maybe a goatee. I'll have Mia, find someone to clean me up.

As for the gym, I know where I'm going, the same gym as my wife and her Fuck Toy Billy. He's been fucking my wife for close to three months that I know of. It could be longer, who the fuck knows.

Yes. I have proof. Things didn't seem right, so I hired a PI to follow her and take pictures and videos. All I can say is my PI got a nice show. That kid was fucking the shit out of my wife and lasting forever. He also recovered quickly for rounds two and three.

Billy is a 20-something-year-old trainer at the gym. My wife isn't the only wife he's fucking either.

I also need to get in shape in case I decide to divorce my wife. No one is going to want to date a 55-year-old fat fuck like me.

Just a little side story, when I was younger, my grandmother gave my dad some money to put down on the house he was buying, and she moved in with us. My grandfather had died a few years before.

From what I understand, Grandma went to some shrink who told her that if she finds herself lonely, it's okay to talk to herself. I thought my grandmother was crazy. I would sit in my room, right across the hall from hers, and would hear her talking to herself.

Look, I'm not 100% sure, but I swear I heard her respond to herself too.

So, as you may have guessed, this shrink fucked me up too. It's like I have this little guy in my head that helps me make decisions. He's a sarcastic fucker too. I can't say anything out loud or people will think I'm as crazy as my grandmother was. Sorry Grandma.

Back to my story.

Why haven't I confronted my wife or filed for divorce? Good fucking question. The little fucker in my head thinks I enjoy being a fucking cuckold wimp and I won't stand up for myself. He may be right. Or a more realistic answer is that I am happy with my life. Also, I'm old school. You marry for life and if you have a problem, you work it out.

Listen, I have a great marriage. Yes, my wife is cheating on me. But since she's been fucking this kid, my sex life has improved 100%. It was always good, but this kid has a bigger dick than me. I know from the videos that my PI showed me that my wife is trying her best to deepthroat his big dick. I'm benefiting because I'm her practice dummy.

Another issue is our family; we have twins (Tara and Sara) in college, and Lynn, our 17-year-old daughter is in high school. I don't want Lynn to deal with divorced parents and try to split time between us. I've seen other kids with divorced parents, and they're all fucked up now.

Other than my wife enjoying being fucked by young men with big dicks, my life is great. We have a close family and great friends, and I love my business. I am an electrician and own my own business. The big money I make is from my surveillance and lighting.

It doesn't sound impressive, but it is. I didn't want to go to college. So, I took every industrial arts class I could in middle school and high school. Auto, metal, carpentry..., you name a shop class, and I took it. I took art too; I was good at drawing shit, and it helped to keep my GPA up and my mom and dad off my ass.

I also did well in business classes like business math and basic accounting.

Like I said, I told my dad that I didn't want to go to college, I wanted to learn a trade. Dad was a banker so to him, school was important. But he surprised me. My dad told me, "Okay Bob, if you're not going to college, pick a trade. Do you want to be a plumber or carpenter? Or a landscaper."

"I kind of like tinkering with electronics," I told my dad.

"I know a guy." my dad said.

Back then, everyone knew a guy. My dad made a call, and he got me a job working for Johnny Walker. Mr. Walker was a great guy with a great name too. He told me to just call him Johnny.

I took classes and Johnny helped me get through all the other bullshit I needed to be a certified electrician. I wanted to own my own business one day, which was my dream.

I knew a bunch of guys from school who followed in their dad's footsteps and became landscapers. So, I hooked up with a few of them. As a side job, I was doing landscape lighting.

Johnny thought it was a great idea. He didn't do it or take business away from me, no, he would help me with any questions I had or let me use his Tax ID number and business name to get discounts and avoid paying sales tax on my purchase of supplies and shit.

Next, were surveillance cameras. For some reason, everyone thought they were gonna get fuckin robbed. I was doing resident and business video surveillance. I worked out a deal with Johnny, I would work 3 days a week for him and 3 days a week doing my side jobs.

I was making a lot of fucking money.

One day I was talking to Johnny, and he said he wanted to retire. "Bob, I'm done. This is a young man's game. I'm too old for all this lifting and squatting, climbing up into attics and crawl places. I've done well for myself, and Mrs. Walker has done well for herself too. She can retire next year and get a full pension."

"Are you interested in buying the business? The client list, supplies, and vans are included."

I didn't know what to say. "Johnny, I can't afford to buy your business."

"Think about it Bob, I'm sure we can work out a payment plan."

Well, I thought about it and I talked to my dad about how to get a loan. My dad told me to go talk to my grandmother. It ended up that my grandpa was tighter than Scrooge McDuck. He stowed all his money like a squirrel hunkering down for the worst winter in history and I benefited from it. Grandma just gave me the money I needed to buy the business.

My grandma was the best. Other than fucking with my head that is.

Over the years, my business has grown and I'm now running 5 three-man crews. My big money still comes from lighting and surveillance. I net close to $5,000,000 a year. That also includes my store sales.

So yes, I am a happy man. I want my wife back and I don't feel like sharing her with Fuck Toy.

My wife thinks we're rich because I give her whatever the fuck she wants. Actually, I am rich, but she is not. She can't touch any of my money if we divorce. You see, I have some smart friends, one is a lawyer, Joe Keen and the other is an accountant, Richard Thomas, whom my girls call their uncles Joe and Rich.

I owned the business before Kelly, and I got married. Joe and Rich did some restructuring of my business in such a way that I could limit my liability and be treated as an employee of the business. There are some tax benefits too.

I'm not going to tell you I understand it all and make myself look smarter than I am, because I'm not. Remember, I didn't go to college.

I receive a salary, and my salary is minimal. I take distributions out of the business if I need money. My car and Kelly's are leased through the business. The only thing I own is my house, which I also bought before I married Kelly. So, I would retain the house if we were to divorce.

"Good morning, Bob." said my beautiful wife as I walked into the kitchen.

Let me explain beautiful wife. Kelly, my wife of 20 years, is only 45. Yes, I robbed the cradle, that's another reason not to divorce my wife. She is sexy as hell and that is also a problem because just like me, everyone wants to fuck my wife.

My daughter's friends call Kelly a MILF.

"Would you like a bagel?" she asked.

"Nope, I'm getting fat, I'm going on a diet."

"You're going on a diet?" asked my wife with a surprised look on her face.

And my sarcastic daughter joined in, "Yeah right Dad, just until Uncle Rich and Uncle Joe call you "Time to get stupid Bob!" she said in her stupid-Dad-sounding voice.

Rich and Joe are my oldest friends. Let's just say we like to have fun, play golf, drink too much, and do stupid shit. We also have another friend, Charlie, who joins us every Sunday morning for golf.

"Yes, a diet," I stuck my tongue out at Lynn, "I am also going to the gym. The same gym your mother goes to." Oh, the look on my wife's face when I said that.

"My gym?" she asked.

"What, I can't go to the same gym as you? Do I embarrass you so much that you don't want to be seen with me let alone have anyone know we're married?"

"Bob, I'm sorry. I think it's great that you want to get back into shape." 'That's right you, cheating slut' Cool it Dickhead, I said to the voice in my head.

That conversation within my head happens throughout the day. When I'm stressed or confused, he's there with his opinion. I like to call him Dickhead. But sometimes he helps me to make the right decisions.

"I want to work on my stamina too, you know what I mean," I told my wife as my daughter just rolled her eyes in disgust.

"I would like that too," my wife responded with a smile.

"Just don't kill him, Mom. He still has to pay for my college, and he promised me a Corvette for Graduation."

"Don't you have a bus to catch?" I stared at my daughter as she smiled at me with that smile only a daughter could share with her dad.

"So, do we have any fruit, health cereal maybe yogurt?" I asked my wife.

"Yes, yes, and yes. I'll fix you something healthy."

"What about that healthy green shit the two of you drink every morning?"

"Bob, I don't know if you're going to like that, how about a sip of mine first?"

"Is it that bad?" I asked.

"Well, I like it, it's kale and kelp with a protein and collagen powder."

"Collagen?"

"Bob, you want me to look good for you right? Well, collagen helps my skin and keeps my bones and joints healthy too," she then whispered, "so I can straddle that dick of yours and keep you happy."

"Hello! You do realize I hear everything, e v e r y t h i n g!!!" my daughter said, "Can you keep it to yourselves or just write dirty little notes to each other? And while we're on the subject, how about you two turn the volume down a little when your F... making love." My wife and I both laughed.

Can you understand why I don't want to divorce my wife? I just want her to come back to me, say she's sorry, and maybe some counseling to understand why she likes to fuck 20-year-olds.

So why don't I just confront her you may be asking yourself? I'm not sure if she would stop or if she would just find someone to replace her current Fuck Toy. I want my wife to come back to me on her own and be done with this fucking behind my back for good. How will I achieve this? I don't know.

So, back to my story. My wife whipped up her concoction and I took a sip. "That's disgusting," as I spit it out in the sink.

"I told you; you wouldn't like it."

I ate some Greek yogurt, fruit, and a piece of Styrofoam with organic peanut butter and wanted to throw that up too.

"Honey, you need to eat more if you're going to the gym."

"Are bananas still okay to eat and these fruit bars that taste like cardboard or are they not healthy any longer?" I asked.

"You can still eat those; I threw out the bad ones you bought." My wife informed me that I am no longer permitted to buy healthy food. Or what I thought was healthy food.

"Okay, what time do we go to the gym?" If I'm going to save my marriage, I gotta cock-block this kid.

"I'm going to school now." my daughter announced. "Have my loving parents decided when I might have my car back?" My daughter drives an old 2003 Buick Century. I don't want to spoil her and have her take advantage of me like her mother does. She hates the car but it's all she has.

"How long has it been?" I asked.

"12 days and counting." My daughter confirmed for me.

"Honey, I think we should let her have her car back on Friday." my wife gives in too easily.

"Okay, Friday it is. I will expect your essay on the effects of marijuana on the brain by Friday morning, and you can drive to school, but only if I find your essay satisfactory."

"Mom!"

"Just go to school honey, I'll talk to your father." My daughter whispered something to my wife, and I can only imagine what it was. Those two are too close to each other.

I got a peck on the cheek and a hand reaching out for money.

"What?" I asked.

"I need lunch money."

"You need a job," I told her. When I was your age..." she cut me off.

"I know, you walked up and down the street with a push lawn mower, not a gas mower, and hand-held grass clippers. Also, a rake, a broom, and paper grocery bags because plastic leaf bags weren't invented yet,"

"And don't forget his bag lunch. A hamburger bun with American cheese, a big slice of tomato, and mayo." my wife added.

"Now can I have $20, Daddy?"

"$20? Doesn't your school have a free lunch program or something like that?" As she emphasized her hand.

I gave her the $20 and got a hug. I'm such a sucker.

"You're serious about the gym?" My wife asked looking unhappy, "But I take classes with Susan." she said.

"And you still can. I'll be using the weights and the treadmill."

"What about work?" she asked.

"I show up when I show up. It's my business remember." This is going to be harder than I thought. She must love this kid's dick.

"Kelly, I need you to push me and get me back into shape again. It's for your benefit as much as mine. I want to be the man that I used to be and keep you sexually satisfied. I know I haven't been lasting as long as I used to and my recovery time, well you get what I mean."

"Also, Kelly, I don't want you to run off and find a new dick to satisfy you when a perfectly good one is right here." Kelly looked shocked and dropped her glass of green shit to the ground.

"Bob don't talk like that. You keep me satisfied and I love you even though I know you couldn't help it if..." as she thought better about her next words.

"Thank you, Kelly, I think?" As I helped clean the green shit off the floor I asked, "So, when are we off to the gym?"

"10 o'clock, I meet Susan for yoga and then we take a spin class."

"Perfect, a little weight training, and then I'll try the spin class too. Don't you also have a fitness trainer? I thought you said you did at one point." I asked.

"Um," she said nervously, "Billy."

"Good, I'm going to get him to train me too." Her mouth dropped open; she thought I missed that.

"Let me get ready for the gym and do a few things on the computer and we can go," I told my nervous wife.

I knew she'd be on the phone with Susan as soon as I walked away. They're both fucking Billy.

I don't give a shit about Susan. She cheats on her husband and her husband cheats on her. He throws his money around and fucks whoever says yes. Usually 20-year-old strippers. He throws parties and invites a bunch of strippers to join him and his clients.

Kelly is at least discreet; not Susan, she flirts with everyone. When we go out as a couple with Susan and her husband Chuck, she even flirts with the wait staff. Forget the country club members. Susan's fucking the whole staff. I know she's fucking the pickleball instructor too.

I was right, Kelly was on the phone talking to Susan as soon as I walked away. How do I know? Because I got this kid named Jeremy that works for me. He's a nice kid but a little geeky.

This kid could hack into a missile Silo and blow the shit out of Russia and China before they knew what hit em. So, hacking into my wife's cell phone was nothing for him.

If Kelly is on her phone or texting, I get a text notification and I can read her phone conversation or text. I could view it in real time or later. I can view her calls and texts on my iPhone or my computer.

"Susan, I'm in trouble.

"What's going on?"

"Bob wants to get in shape, he's decided to come to the gym with me, every day! And I'm not sure, but I think he may know something is going on with me and Billy."

"Fuck Kelly, just stop practicing on his dick. Cut him off, he only gets a blowjob on his birthday. Who knows, maybe he'll encourage you to keep on fucking Billy if you cut him off."

'What a fuckin bitch!' that little voice in my head said and I agreed.

"Did you tell him no when he said he was going to the gym with you?"

"No, I didn't tell him no. He's my husband what was I going to say, "No honey you can't come with me, I'm fucking Billy, the trainer." Also, I told Bob after yoga I take a spin class. Now I have to take a damn spin class with him,"

Susan laughed.

"

Don't laugh, I told Bob I take the yoga and spin class with you."

"You bitch,"

They both laughed.

"You got me into this mess."

"Oh, Susan, you're the one that said Bob had a useless dick."

"I never said that. I said he was losing his stamina, and I needed more."

"So, what's the difference? It's a useless dick if he has no stamina."

"Whatever, just get to the gym before me and tell Billy that he can't flirt with me anymore and it's over between us. I'm not going to lose Bob over a little extramarital sex."

"Give up a kid with a huge dick, are you for real Kelly?"

"Yes, I'm done. Big dick or not, I'm done with Billy."

"Look Kelly, I can hook you up with Jimmy at the club."

"Jimmy the pickleball instructor? You're fucking him too?"

"Yes, his dick isn't as big as Billy's, but he can last forever. I'm exhausted after he's done with me, and he likes to give it to me rough."

"He is cute. Let me think about it, Susan."

"I'll see you at the gym."

Fuck, now I have to cock-block the pickleball kid too. Maybe I should just divorce her.

I shut the laptop, and we went off to the gym.

When we arrived, I saw Susan talking to Billy, they were both looking our way and laughing as we approached.

I saw a smirk on this kid's face. I know what he was thinking, "look at that fat cuck."

I should pay someone to kick his ass. He's a lot bigger than me and I'm too out of shape to fight him.

"Hi Billy," Kelly said as she looked awkward trying to hug him.

Susan and Kelly did that cheek-to-cheek rich spoiled thing women do. Susan and I gave each other pleasantries but no kisses.

"Billy, this is my husband Bob, could you set him up with a membership and get him into a workout routine?"

"Sure, Kelly, I can take care of that." He didn't think I noticed that his hand was on my wife's ass. Kelly tried to squirm away from him, I guess. This kid needs an ass-kicking. Me and Dickhead both agree on that.

"Come on Bob, I need you to sign some papers, and we'll set you up with a workout routine."

By the end of my workout session, I was about to die. That little prick was working me hard just to fuck with me. But I was determined not to complain or give him the satisfaction of knowing he broke me. I did his whole workout and then went into the bathroom and threw up.

Next, I met Kelly and Susan at the spin class. I could tell that neither Kelly nor Susan had ever taken a spin class in their lives. "Turn it up a quarter," the instructor kept yelling. Kelly and Susan had no idea what that meant. Every time the instructor, an extremely attractive instructor I might add, yelled "Turn it up a quarter" Kelly and Susan turned the tensioner a full turn.