The signs were ready and waiting by the front door. I'd taken the better part of the last couple of days on them because I wanted them to be perfect. Now the hard part. Up the stairs, into the master bedroom, rip off the bedclothes, wrestle the mattress off the queen sized bed and half carry, half slide it down the stairs, down the hall, through the front door and out onto the front lawn next to the street. Back into the house, up the stairs, toss the slats and bedclothes down the stairs, follow them down and take them outside, tossing them into a pile beside the mattress. Another trip to the bedroom, kick apart the side rails and hustle them outside. Check my watch, 4:22, have to hurry, need to be done by 5. The head board and foot board followed and by 4:35 the bed was back together.
Next, the kitchen table. That was light enough that I was able to scoot and carry it, turning it sideways and angling it through the door, placing it next to the bed in the yard.
The final item was the 6 by 8 throw rug in the living room. I rolled it up and placed it by the other items in the yard, erected the signs and noted with pride that it was only 4:55. Ten minutes to go till my wife comes home.
I walked to the middle of the street and turned to view my handy work. It looked so beautiful it almost brought a tear to my eye. My wife's and my marriage bed, the kitchen table and throw rug. The three places I knew for sure my wife and her lover had fucked repeatedly over the past 6 months. And the signs, so perfect, placed high enough to be out of reach and one by one I read them. The large sign in front of the furniture, "These items are yours for the taking. FREE! They are no longer wanted in this house. If you are able to stomach the stench of adultery and broken vows, Help Yourself!"
The sign above the bed read, "On this bed my wife repeatedly broke her wedding vows and threw our marriage away by fucking her lover twice a week for the past six months. This afternoon was their most recent tryst and the smell of their fucking still clings to the sheets."
Over the kitchen table was the sign that said, "My wife and her lover often fucked on this table, usually just a few hours before she served me dinner."
Over the throw rug was a sign that said, "My wife and her lover seemed to prefer this rug for their anal sex, something my wife always denied me, claiming it was too nasty to even think about." To each sign I had stapled a 17 by 24 inch photo of the adulterous pair consummating their union on the appropriate piece of furniture.
There was a fifth sign, fixed slightly behind the table which read, "My wife's lover is her boss, Greg Allen of Mitchell, Price and Allen Realty. He's married and has 3 children. I don't think his wife knows about any of this, but she soon will."
4:57, just in time, she would be home any minute. I turned and looked around me and found a group of neighbors already gathering to watch what I was doing. Several cars had stopped and more than one person was talking on a cell phone, either calling their friends to come take a look, or calling the police to have me arrested for fostering public indecency. I casually waved to the assembling group and walked into the house, closing the door after me.
At precisely 5:05 pm I saw my wife's car turn the corner at the end of the block and immediately slow down, seeing all the people gathering near our house, looking at something on our lawn and talking and laughing among themselves. Slowly she drove to the house we'd shared for the past 10 years and stopped in front, starring at the sight of the furniture and the signs in our front yard, paying I'm sure, special attention to the large photos of her and her boss, Greg Allen, fucking, their faces masks of lust and pleasure. Even through her car window and the window of my house and with all the conversation of the 40 or 50 people standing around gawking, I still heard her scream, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO, Oh god NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Finally her eyes moved from the signs to the front window of the house where she saw me standing. We stared at each other, she looked grief stricken, her face an ashy white. I could see tears falling down her cheeks, she seemed to be asking me why. I had the same question for her. I watched her for a few seconds, then turned away from her, closing the curtains behind me.
Chapter 2
I guess at this point I should explain how my wife Sheri and I arrived at this tragic place. My name is Jack Meyer. I met Sheri in college our junior year. A mutual friend suggested we get together and when we met for the first time I was smitten. Sheri wasn't a beautiful woman in the classic sense, but she was so damn cute and sexy. 5 foot 2, with beautiful blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair down to her shoulders. Her body was petite, but perfectly proportioned, her 32 B breasts and tiny waist captivated me and though she didn't know it at the time, she had me and the thought that I wouldn't win her never crossed my mind.
Sheri and I started dating and within a few weeks we were a couple. A month after we met, we made love for the first time and it was like nothing I had ever experienced. I was obsessed with Sheri and couldn't get enough of her body. Neither of us were virgins our first time, but we were far from experienced and we luxuriated in each others bodies. Oral sex was wonderful and every position we tried seemed to become our favorite. I think it is safe to say we were as deeply in love as it was possible for two people to be.
We were married just after graduation and moved into our first home, a condo in Van Nuys. Sheri got her real estate license and went to work with one of the area's more prominent agencies. I used my engineering degree to snag a nice position with an electronic manufacturing company and we settled into a life I thought was perfect.
For the next 13 years we shared a fabulous life together, first in our condo, then as our earnings increased we bought our dream home and started our family. First came Shelby, now 8 years old, then two years later along came Ryan who is now 6. Sheri and I loved those two kids to total distraction. We lived for each other and our family. So what happened? I wish I could tell you. I wish I could say I picked up on the little signs that told me something was wrong, but I didn't. I was totally oblivious, living in a world of absolute love and trust with my wife. It took a fluke to fill me in on what was going on. A fluke caused by our daughter Shelby getting sick at school.
It was a Thursday and I got a call just before noon from the school nurse that Shelby had come down with what appeared to be the flu. At the time I was in the middle of a staff meeting and asked the school nurse to please call my wife. The nurse told me she had tried calling Sheri at her office, where she was told my wife would be out for most of the rest of the day, she tried our house, but there wasn't an answer so she left a message, then her cell, only to be directed to her voice mail. So, she called me since it was important that my daughter be picked up as soon as possible.
I made my apologies to my staff and drove as quickly as I could to Shelby's school where I picked her up and headed for home. When we got there and I opened the garage door I was surprised to see a car I didn't recognize parked in my car's spot next to my wife's. Instantly I got a lump in my throat and my stomach began to churn. "No, it couldn't be" I told myself. "My wife, the woman I loved more than life itself couldn't be having an affair, it wasn't possible." But still, why was there a strange car in the garage with the door down?" Something was very wrong and I had to find out and I couldn't let my daughter find out with me.
"Stay in the car for a minute Shelby." I told her.
"But why? I want to go to bed." she whined.
"I know it baby, but I think the exterminator is here spraying the house for bugs and the spray will make you even sicker" I lied to her. The first lie I'd ever told my daughter. "Let me check first and then I'll come and get you."
Shelby whined some more, but laid back down in the back seat to wait for me.
As quietly as I could I walked into the garage, used my key to open the door to the kitchen, hoping desperately to find my wife and one of her girlfriends having coffee and chatting at the kitchen table, but when I turned the corner the kitchen was empty. I stepped through the kitchen and turned towards the living room, hoping to find her sitting on the sofa holding a conversation, but no one was there either.
Then I heard her laughing, the joyous girly laugh I knew so well. It was coming from upstairs and my heart sank. The only rooms up there were bedrooms. My knees got weak and I felt like I was going to throw up, but I pushed myself forward. As bad as I feared things were, I had to find out.
I walked quietly up the stairs, the carpeting softening the sound of my feet. The first bedroom was my daughter's. The door was open and as I peaked in I found the room empty, the bed still made. The second door led to my son's room and the door was closed. I started to open it and then heard my wife's laughter again coming from farther down the hall, the master suite.
My heart in my throat, I crept to the edge of the door and listened. At first I heard nothing, then came the sound of the bed rocking gently against the wall, then my wife's voice. "Oh god Greg, so good, Ooooooh yes, fuck me baby, be my man." Then a male voice, "that feels good, doesn't it Sheri?" "Yes Greg, you know it's good. The best ever, I've told you that a thousand times, no one has ever fucked me like you do."
"Not even your wimpy husband Jack?" he panted as he continued to fuck my wife.
"Please don't call Jack a wimp Greg, he's not. He just can't make me feel like you do. He loves me so much and he tries so hard, but every time he makes love to me, all I can think about is having you inside me, filling me, completing me like no one else can."
My body had turned to ice, my loving wife couldn't stand the way I made love to her. I felt bile rising into my throat but I fought it down. I had to see for myself, but at the same time I didn't want to let them see me. I realized at that very second that my marriage was over, but still I needed visual proof of her affair.
With my heart totally shattered I slowly turned the handle on the door and opened it just an inch. Just so I could peek through and what I saw killed every ounce of love I'd ever had for my loving wife. She was on her back on the bed with her legs splayed wide apart, her knees in the air, her pussy being pounded by a man I recognized as her boss, Greg Allen.
My first inclination was to rush in and beat the shit out of him, but quickly decided that I'd only end up in jail. After all he wasn't raping my wife, she was willingly and enthusiastically giving herself to him.
While I watched, frozen in place, he pulled his cock out of her. It was wet and shiny with my wife's vaginal fluids, but I noticed it wasn't any bigger, or fatter than mine. Guess he just really knew how to use it.
"Get on your hands and knees" he told her and she quickly obeyed. "You know what's coming, don't you Sheri?" he asked.
"Yes baby, you're going to fuck my ass."
"Who's ass is it Sheri?"
"Yours Greg. Only yours. Never, ever anyone but yours. You got my cherry back there and It's been only yours since that first time six months ago."
"Your husband doesn't get this ass does he Sheri?"
"Oh god no Greg, I won't let him. I never have and he wants it, but I tell him it's nasty and I won't do it."
"But I get to fuck your ass don't I Sheri?"
"Always baby, only you. It's your ass and only yours forever, I swear."
And with that I watched, mesmerized as her boss guided his wet cock to my wife's ass and pushed it into her.
"Aiieeeee, oh god Greg yes" she hollered as he filled her with his meat.
"Fuck me baby, fuck me hard, fill me with your hot sperm."
And as he pounded her ass, I turned away, quietly closed the door and fumbled my way down the stairs, gagging on the bile in my throat, determined to keep it down.
