My Wife's Infidelity - Bridesmaid

After KK's affair with her massage therapist ended, things were normal for quite a while. About 18 months or so later, I became suspicious, and later confirmed, that my wife had cheated again. This event took place when we were in our thirties.

One of KK's good friends, Katie, finally found "the man of her dreams." A big wedding ceremony was to be held at a resort in St. Maarten. The timing was such that the kids were in school, with both sets of grandparents unavailable to take care of them. I had work conflicts that couldn't be moved, so KK and I would not both be able to attend the wedding together, leaving KK with the choice to go solo, or not attend.

KK was supposed to be in the wedding party, a bridesmaid. I didn't know Katie very well at all, and didn't feel like my presence, or absence for that matter, was of any consequence. It didn't seem like that big of a deal to me at the time.

KK was annoyed, taking my lack of interest in the opportunity to travel and attend the wedding negatively - she kept cajoling me to try and find someone to watch the kids, asking me to cancel my work plans. We got in an argument over it. I ended up asking, "if it's so important, why don't you figure out someone to deal with the kids, then figure out how to cover my work responsibilities."

Eventually it blew over, at least I thought so. KK nagged me a couple more times over the notion of going with her. To appease her, I looked into a sitter, along with trying to juggle my work responsibilities. In the end, it simply didn't pan out. Lots of times with KK there are "Catch-22" things; I found someone we both knew to stay with the kids, but KK didn't feel comfortable. Finally, I had a director's meeting, the date cast in concrete, in conflict with the wedding event.

We got in one final huge argument over it, before I just said, "I'm not going. There's no time left to find a sitter, there's no way I can blow off work for this stupid shit - I don't even know Katie." KK was pissed for a week, but there was no more nagging.

About a month later, KK departed for the wedding event, which was going to span from Friday to the following Sunday, including travel, the bachelorette party, rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, an after-party, the ceremony, and reception.

I took KK to the airport mid-morning that Friday - one of the kids was with us, sick, so I didn't go into the terminal with KK. I dropped her curbside with her bags, then went on about the day. During the trip, KK called a couple of times, catching me on one call in the early evening, just after dinner.

The conversation was unremarkable, they were getting ready to go to the bachelorette party. KK seemed impatient, in a hurry to end the call. I remember telling her to "behave, but have a good time."

KK's replied in an angry tone, "What the hell does that mean?"

I said, "I just want you to take care of yourself."

KK said, "I'm fine. Kiss the kids. I gotta go." Then she hung up.

The next call was odd - it was a couple of days later - in the middle of the night, I was pretty certain KK had been drinking - there was lots of background noise that I couldn't quite make out, like the sound of wind, laughter, her speech was slurred, the conversation disjoint and short.

On that call, I cautioned her not to drink too much, told me, "I was not the boss of her."

I suggested, "Just be careful, and take care of yourself."

KK's reply seemed hostile, "You bet your sweet ass I'm taking care of myself!"

She actually hung the phone up on me at that point. The call left me uneasy, as the drinking thing usually doesn't work out for KK - the combination of being petite and not metabolizing alcohol very well almost always led to problems. I eventually managed to go back to sleep.

There were no more phone calls until the morning KK was scheduled to depart for home - she called from the airport to tell me that her flight was leaving on time, to make sure to be at the airport to pick her up. Several hours later, I was at the airport, kids in tow, waiting outside the gate area.

The arrivals screen flashed that her flight had landed, but after thirty minutes, still no wife coming down the escalator. I decided that she must've been seated at the back of the plane, it was probably taking a while to unload the cabin.

I happened to glance up, mostly out of coincidence, just in time to see KK breaking off a too familiar, far too intimate kiss, disengaging an embrace with a strange man! From the distance, I couldn't make out who it was. I only glimpsed him in profile, as he hurried off away from the railing of the mezzanine.

My blood was boiling. I felt my face and ears flush with heat, I looked around at the kids, who were fortunately distracted by all the people traffic - they did not appear to have witnessed mommy kissing some strange dude.

I watched KK, looking sort of wobbly, get onto the escalator - it looked like she was going to trip and fall. I distinctly remember feeling like I was on the verge of passing out; light-headed, angry, enraged, hurt, a flood of conflicting feelings and thoughts, ranging from taking the kids, dumping KK at the airport, to the desire to take her someplace secluded, and fuck her senseless.

KK made it down, steadying herself on the handrail, finally getting off the bottom landing, nearly tripping again. By the time she reached the landing, I'd managed to regain some control over myself, my swirling emotions had reduced to simple anger, combined with nausea. I decided not to make a scene, because of the kids, and the crowded airport lobby.

KK was wearing a sundress (which was really not seasonal for our city, but sort of made sense coming from St. Maarten), and white "stripper shoes" - she seemed to be a little drunk! The outfit struck me as entirely inappropriate - not like a proper wife and mom, as KK's too-high, "fuck me" heels and skimpy dress, were attention-getting and not at all "mom-like."

If I didn't know it was my wife, I'd have thought the woman getting off that escalator was a hooker or escort, the kind I'd sometimes seen in the Vegas airport... The heels and the booze were impairing her gait sufficiently that it was almost funny, except for the fact that I had the kids with me, one of whom asked, "What's up with mom?"

KK came over to me, giving me a welcome hug and a kiss - I was angry, wanting to confront her about the scene I witnessed, pissed about the fact that she was on the edge of shit-faced, instead of sober to meet me and the kids. Not to mention the "mystery kisser" dude... I could feel the blood boiling up in my neck. My head was pounding.

My thoughts centered on trying to play it cool, rather than direct confrontation, to see if I could tease it out of her, making KK trip up on lies or guilt, trapping her to see if she'd tell me what the fuck was going on.

KK said, "I'm going to find my bags, then I want to get something to eat - I'm starving!"

KK took one of the kids in hand, teetering on her heels, nearly stumbling, then strolled off toward the baggage claim area. Went went to the baggage carousel, where KK spotted her luggage, and had me retrieve it - two bags, one roll-a-board, and one overnight bag. I had one of the kids in hand, and the youngest captive in the stroller, while trying to wrestle her shit from the carousel at the same time. KK just stood there, not helpful, with the older kid next to her.

After leaving the airport, we went to a restaurant we frequent for dinner. KK seemed to sober up a lot, once she got some food and water. We finished dinner, by the time we got home, it was late enough to put the kids to bed. I took care of that, because KK said she needed a hot shower and some ibuprofen, leaving me to do the chores.

I got the kids taken care of, and went out to the SUV to retrieve her luggage, which I'd left in the back. I brought the bags inside, then took them to the laundry room. KK was still in the shower, so I decided to unpack some of the stuff and start the laundry.

I opened up the overnight bag first, because her habit is to stuff her worn clothing into a plastic grocery sack, then stuff that into the smaller bag. As expected, there was the plastic sack stuffed with wadded up clothing. I dumped it onto the counter to sort it out for the wash - my attention was immediately drawn to a pair of tiny, almost fluorescent pink panties.

I picked them up, examining them. They were crotchless, nearly translucent. I didn't recall ever having seen them before. I took a closer look, flipping them around to the translucent backside, there was a well-defined, crusty stain, right on the ass of the little panties. It had to be cum!

I felt flushed, angry, shocked, my cock was getting hard... I looked at the cum-crusted panties for a few minutes, then put them into the sorted pile with the rest of her worn panties, bras and undergarments. I paused for a minute, looked through the overnight bag, and didn't find anything else unusual or of interest, so I closed it up and set it on the floor.

I picked up the roller bag, and opened it up, found two more sacks of worn clothing, containing nothing incriminating. The only other odd ball thing was KK's shoes - there were two pair in the bag, and a fifth, single shoe - which was missing the mate - a hot pink high-heel pump, again an item of KK's clothing I didn't recall having seen before. It struck me as very strange that there was only one shoe, leaving me wondering where the hell the other might be.

Rooting around a bit more, I came across a cheap, off-brand digital point-and-shoot camera that I'd never seen before. I fooled with it for a moment, looking for a way to see what might be on it. The camera was so cheap it didn't appear to have removable memory, and it didn't have an LCD screen to review potential content. I thought about it for a moment, and decided to roll the dice - I put the camera high up on the top laundry cabinet, toward the back where there was no way KK was likely to find it. I decided to take it to work and see what the contents were in the privacy of my office.

I finished sorting the laundry out, and decided to purloin the crotchless panties for the time being - I pulled them out of the pile, and stuffed them in the pocket of my jeans. KK's very picky about some things, including the laundry, so I put her panties in one mesh bag, bras in another, the the rest of the shit into a third bag, set the machine's delicate cycle, then put the special detergent she demands in the tub of the washer. I tossed all three bags into the washer tub, closed the lid, making sure the water temperature was right, and started the machine.

About that time, KK, wearing just a towel, appeared at the doorway of the laundry room, saying, "What are you doing?"

I told her that I was just trying to help out, by getting her laundry started. KK looked a little panicked, came over to the counter, and started going through the sorted piles like she was looking for something. I thought that she must be shitting bricks, probably looking for the curious, cum-stained crotchless panties, the camera, or both.

I broke the ice and said, "Your undies are in the wash. Let me take your bags to the bedroom, so you can finish unpacking - I'll help."

KK's retort was, "Did you do it right? Is the temperature and cycle set where it's supposed to be? If you fuck up my lingerie I'm going to be pissed!"

I was somewhat taken aback by her criticism, but I managed a polite reply, "Yes, its all sorted and bagged, your special detergent is in there, and it's set just like you told me."

That didn't bring a "thanks," just a sort of hostile glare.

I went back to, "We'll, let's get you unpacked. I'll help."

KK seemed really nervous, but she agreed to let me help. I carried the bags to the bedroom behind her, putting them onto the bed. KK opened the overnight bag first, it seemed like she was looking for something - like maybe the little cum-stained panties might still be in the bag. She seemed a little upset, hurriedly putting stuff away.

When that bag was unpacked, she said, "Put this in the hall closet for me dear."

I took it, doing as she asked. When I got back to the bedroom, KK was unpacking the roller bag. She was holding one of the pink heels, cursing softly, "Where the fuck is my other shoe?"

I interjected, "Seems like you're missing a shoe baby... how'd that happen?"

I wanted to deliberately taunt, goad her, into some sort of admission. She got flustered, saying, "I must have forgotten to pack it - I was in a hurry because I overslept!"

I said, "Overslept? How'd that happen? Did you have a late night?"

KK glared at me. She finally finished unpacking and putting away stuff, while I mostly stood watching. I could feel the little bulge of the cum-crusted panties in my pocket. My cock was getting hard, watching her going about her business wrapped up in a big bath towel. I was thinking and wondering about the panties, about what might have gone on.

I was trying to decide if, and how I was going to confront her over the whole thing, from the drunken phone call, the incident at the airport, the panties, and missing shoe. When she was done, KK asked me to take the roller bag to the hall closet.

When I returned, KK was in her closet, rooting around, bent over her make-up bag on the little shelf where she keeps the sort of "overflow" stuff that isn't normally on her dressing and make-up table.

I prodded her again, "Did your shoe ever turn up sweetie, or did it go on a walk-about?"

I thought she was probably looking for the potentially incriminating panties, or the camera. The missing shoe was just a distraction.

KK turned and glared at me. I tried to diffuse things by laughing a little.

KK said, "Always a clown. A sad clown."

She went back to rummaging about, bent over the make-up bag. I walked up behind KK, and pressed myself against her nearly bare ass, saying, "Let's have a little welcome home fun, shall we?"

I was prepared for a "No," but to my surprise, KK turned around, kissed me, letting the towel fall to the closet floor. The next thing I knew she was on her knees, unzipping my jeans, grabbing my cock, sucking it into her mouth. KK sucked me off for a few minutes, stopping just before I blew my load in her mouth.

KK got off her knees, and said, "I want you to fuck me baby. Fuck me good..."

I managed to get my shoes kicked off, my jeans and boxers down and off, then turned her around, facing the closet wall, getting her braced on the shelf. I plunged my cock into her, with my hands on her shoulders, pumping her pussy. I was amazed by how easily my cock slid into her - normally I was used to eating her out to one or two orgasms before penetration, but my cock slid into her with zero effort or resistance. While I fucked her from behind, she was diddling her clit with the fingers of one hand, trying to steady herself on the little shelf with the other.

I was determined to give her the fuck of her life. I wanted to stay hard until KK passed out from cumming on my cock, to try and reclaim her, as if fucking her senseless would redeem my dirty little cheating wife. We both managed to cum at about the same time, when she was done, KK pushed me down onto the closet floor, straddling my face, forcing me to lick her, while my cum was leaking out all over my face.

KK had another orgasm, when she caught her breath, she said, "Let's go get in the bed baby. I need some more lovin!"

KK went ahead of me, while I stripped out of my shirt, collecting my clothes from the floor of her closet - one of her pet peeves was having any of my stuff in there. I pitched my clothes into my closet, then went into the bedroom. KK was splayed out on the bed, buzzing her clit with one of her favorite toys, a little Pocket Rocket vibe. I joined her, putting my erect cock next to her face, as KK turned, lasciviously sucking and licking me.

KK gives the most excellent, dirty blow jobs, always full eye-contact, sucking, licking, teasing and slurping, and she makes it last. KK finished me off, with just my cock-head in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the glans, until I blew my load. She swallowed every single drop, the finale, a dirty smile, licking her lips and batting her eyelashes at me.

I took over with the vibrator, and buzzed her to a shattering, spasming orgasm. We were both pretty spent at that point, laying together, just kissing and cuddling. It didn't take long, but as I held her, my cock was getting hard again, thinking about my dirty little slut wife, and what might have happened on the trip. The conflicting feelings of resentment, anger, being outrageously horny, all at the same time were disturbing.

KK fell asleep first, while I was sleepless. I quietly got out of bed, and snuck off to the closet. I got the little pink panties out of the pocket of my jeans, and examined them again. The translucent nylon had a definite crusty cum stain right on the ass. I stroked my cock, dangling the panties, imagining some dude rubbing his cock against KK's nylon-covered ass and cumming on her. I was dwelling on the cheap digital camera, wondering what I might find. It was tempting to sneak off to my study to see what might be on it, but I resisted, for fear of being caught.

Within a couple of minutes, I was on the edge of cumming. I managed to capture the seeping globs of cum in my palm, and lacking a more convenient alternative, I swallowed it up. I stuffed the little panties back into the pocket of my jeans, and quietly went back to bed, finally falling asleep.

The next morning I woke up first, and early. I was hard again, and I went to the bathroom, into my closet. I retrieved the little pink crotchless panties from the pocket of my jeans, and used them to jack off, visualizing my wife sucking a big strange cock, watching it penetrate her wet pussy through the open crotch, and then having it cum all over the thin pink nylon against her ass. I stashed the panties in the side pocket of my gym bag after I licked the cum off of them.

I was distracted that morning, rushing to get ready for work, tired from not having slept, disturbed by the conflicting emotions of anger, jealousy, hurt, and disappointment, simultaneous with lust, and desire to get KK on her hands and knees and fuck her senseless. I managed to grab the camera from atop the laundry room cabinet on my way out the door, stashing it in the pocket of my jacket.

When I got to work, I was focused on the camera, in a hurry to deal with tactical Monday morning crap, anticipating what I might find. Finally things settled down, I closed my office door, and took the camera out of my pocket. I looked at it more closely, finding that the camera only had a battery compartment, and a little rubber cover for a USB connection. I found a cable in my desk drawer, and connected the camera to my laptop. The camera appeared on my desktop as a removable drive. The first thing I did was copy the entire drive to my encrypted disk.

Once the copy completed, I ejected the camera, and put it back in my jacket pocket. I'd have to figure out what to do with it later, like sneak it back into KK's roller bag, or have it turn up somewhere in the bedroom, like under the bed. I opened up the copy of the camera's image folder, browsing its contents. The first several images were pretty innocuous. They were obviously the early stages of the bachelorette party, with a dozen or so female friends and member's of the wedding party, including Katie, wearing some kind of costume bridal veil, all of them wearing club or party attire, made-up, glammed up for fun. There were a couple of shots of KK, hamming it up for the camera, looking sexy as hell. KK was wearing a hot pink mini-dress, featuring lots of cleavage, and far too short. In one of the shots her ass-cheeks were almost visible.