I sat there, eyes wide, waiting for someone to notice me, but they were completely enmeshed in the act, totally oblivious. I knew from practical experience that when Chloe is in that mode, it would take an asteroid hitting the earth to get her attention. I glanced at Jim, and he seemed equally intent and unknowing.
My heart literally broke as I stared at the tableau in front of me. My wife, evidently extremely into it, was being fucked by one of my best friends. I idly wondered where Mark and the other girls were -- I'd find out in a minute -- and then wondered what the hell I should do.
I wasn't even angry, right then. I was just shell shocked, heartbroken and didn't know what to do. In the end I thought "
I can't stay here, I need to get out of here"
, the fight or flight reflex kicked in and for me, it was flight. Which is just as well, since if it had been fight, it would not have gone well for anyone. I have a second degree black belt In Ju-Jitsu I earned when I was in my 20's and while I hadn't seen the inside of a dojo in a long time, I still remembered enough and had muscle memory for Very Bad Things to happen to everyone.
I got up, the blanket falling from me and very carefully moved off behind the rutting couple. I dimly remember thinking "I have to leave" and then wondering where my car keys were. Then I remembered they were on the bed side table in our room. While I was there, I would grab a drink of water. I probably shouldn't be driving since I still had alcohol in my system, but I equally couldn't stay here, so I'd have to take that risk. Such where the thoughts going through my head at the time.
I went up to our room and as I passed by Mark and Wendy's room, I discovered where Kathy was. Their door was open and I couldn't help but observe the scene in it as I passed. Wendy was naked, on the tip of the bed, leaning back on the pillows, legs spread and one hand grasping one of her tits and the other was on the back of Kathy's head, who knelt between her legs, lapping her pussy intently. Her head was being pushed into it repeatedly by Mark, who was behind her, pounding her pussy as hard as he could. I could see rivets of sweating running down his back. Kathy was really getting into it, wiping her face all over Wendy's pussy, getting her juices all over her. I also noticed that Wendy also had a shaved pussy and I wondered if it was her who had put Chloe up to it.
I stopped for a second, but it's a testament to how fucked up emotionally I was right then that I didn't get hard for a second. I've thought about it since and while I think it's enormously erotic, it just doesn't turn me on. For obvious reasons.
I quickly moved on before Wendy looked up and saw me. I went into our room, grabbed my keys, grabbed my backpack -- thankfully I'd put the laptop and projector into it earlier, to get it out of any harms away, and went back downstairs as quietly as I could. I picked up my dead phone and eased out the front door. Jim and Chloe where still at it -- they'd changed positions so she was on top and I could just see that she had, indeed shaved her pussy, and Jim was getting the full benefit of it. I was lucky in that the layout of the house was such that the stairs was right by the front door, so I was able to get out easily without being noticed -- not that I would have been since they were so immersed in what they were doing, but still. If the door had slammed, they might have noticed and it would have been an awkward moment. Someone would have got hit and blood would be spilled and I'd probably end up killing someone.
I got out, walked over to my car and got in. I sat there for a second, panting and trying to sort out the emotions I was feeling. I was trying to be rational and think about what I needed to do next, but it was interspersed with random thoughts and emotions.
I need to get home. Good thing I have this car then, the Mustang GT I've always dreamed about. It'll get me home faster than anything else, particularly the way I drive. Why would she do this? We had such a great night last night. Being fast is good. They are going to notice I have gone and there is no phone reception up here, so they will have to come after me if they are going to. I wonder if she has done this before? No, she can't have. I'd have known. Wouldn't I? My phone is dead. I have a charger, but I don't really want to use it - if they do get in phone reception range, I don't want to talk to her. I wonder if the others planned this? I wonder if they do this a lot and we are new meat? If I don't respond, Chloe will
definitely
come after me, so I while I can get home in about an hour and half in my Mustang, it'll take them at least 2 in the explorer. I wonder how she'll feel about this in the morning? How will I feel?
Enough thinking. Action time. I started the car, put it in gear and gingerly let the clutch out. I moved out from the small parking lot as quietly as I could, turned on the lights and made my way down the long winding lane leading up to the lodge. Past the tree I spent the day chopping down and eventually onto a main road. We actually live in Spokane, in Washington state, so I definitely had a drive in front of me, but that was ok. Driving right now was exactly what I needed, to sort out my own brain.
I pointed the car to home and let her have her head.
When I got home, exactly one hour and 33 minutes later (even then, I still kept tabs on stuff like that), I literally dashed out of the car and into the small house we shared. When I got inside I saw that there were waiting messages on the phone -- lots of them. I had no desire to listen to any of them and spent a frantic 30 minutes gathering everything that I could think of that I would need and that would fit in my mustang. Some monitors, keyboards, and couple of PC's, some hard drives, as many clothes as I had (which, was more than I had thought), some toiletries, and even stupid stuff like a plate, a bowl, spoons and forks and a cup and so on. I grabbed some of my favorite books -- although I almost always use a Kindle now, but still, physical books evoke memories -- and the framed painting my dad did of my mom when they first met. There were still some collections of stuff I wanted to take but I knew she'd be coming -- or at least I imagined she would if she had any love for me left, -and frankly I had no idea of what state of mind she was in.
Either way, I wanted to be gone. As I was packing up the last of my stuff the home phone rang and the machine picked it up. It was Chloe. She was frantic and saying "Are you there? I can't get you on your cell. Where are you? I am so freaked out right now. I'm so worried, please, call me. We need to talk. J, where are you?"
Hearing her voice literally tore my heart in two again. All I could see was the image I had seen as I woke up -- my wife being banged by my best friend, in front of my sleeping form no less -- no respect there, obviously. Although I almost laughed when I thought that -- "No respect" -- because they didn't take it up stairs. Not "no respect" because my friend was fucking my wife, no, "no respect" because they didn't do it privately. I did almost giggle, and then I realized how fucked up I truly was.
I had to get out.
So I left. I went to the other side of town, sat in a shitty motel, hid the car behind a garbage area at the motel so you couldn't see it unless you were parked in a certain position, and just sat.
And I sat there for three days. I did no work. I barely ate. I just sat there, thinking. About the future, what I was going to do.
Every time I thought about Chloe and me and the future, all I could see was the image of her cumming on Jims cock, and saying the same things to him and she said to me. I could see the cum face, the one I so rarely saw and which Jim, apparently, invoked in her on the first fuck. Or maybe it wasn't the first fuck. I have no idea. Then I was confronted with the question of "did I want to know?" even. And if I did, would it change anything?
One thing was for sure. I could no longer live with her. I couldn't see her in the same blissful way I had the night before. My version of Chloe was gone and there was a new one now, one that enjoyed sex with my friends. Who did it in front of me when I was asleep? I couldn't reconcile the two -- the one who I knew loved me and the one that would do this, and it was destroying me.
Eventually, I left the motel and I drove to Portland. By now I had charged up my phone, seen that it had almost 40 messages, mostly from Chloe, but some from the other couples. I deleted all of them without listening.
When I got to Portland, I leased a small one bedroomed apartment and then decided it was time to go back, get the things I had left and be done with it.
I rented a Town and Country van, put the chairs down, took a deep breath and drove back. I tried to time it when I knew Chloe would have a shift at the hospital, and mostly, I was right.
I got into the house -- my keys still worked, I had been worried about that -- and I got out all the other stuff I really wanted. There was a captains chair I worked in and some collections of toys that meant a lot to me. Nothing had really changed in my absence, although I noticed there was no house cleaning or tidying up of dishes any more.
However, as is with my luck, I didn't get clean away. And it was probably better this way.
As I was carrying out the last item to the van, Chloe drove up in her red Miata.
She jumped out of the car and ran to me, flinging herself on me, crying mightily.
"Where have you been? I've been worried sick. We had the cops out looking for you?" she sobbed, burying her face in my neck.
I disengaged her hands from around my neck and pushed her off me. I wasn't rough, but I wasn't feeling particularly loving at that moment. In fact, I was starting to get angry. The anger I'd not felt at all until I was here with her now.
I started to say something, then just stopped and went back inside. She stood there, trembling, knowing it was bad, and then followed me in.
I sat down in the master chair and she sank into the sofa opposite, her bag dropping down her body and onto the floor.
"J...I.... I don't know what happened. Where did you go? Why did you leave?"
I just sat there and looked at her. I didn't say anything -- I didn't trust myself to say anything right then. She looked at me, and I could see she didn't want me to have seen anything. She didn't know what I had seen, and she wasn't going to bring it up if I didn't. But I wasn't speaking. And she had to fill the air.
"I... look, I don't know what you saw. It wasn't what you think..."
I just tilted my head at that.
"Ok, well... yes, perhaps it was what you saw. Look, it wasn't supposed to be like that. It was supposed to be all of us. You fell asleep!"