Short story. UK English, Dyslexia Lures, KO?
For the last few months things had seemed off between me and my wife. There hadn't been anything obvious for a while, nothing I could put my finger on. It was hard to get to the bottom of it because whilst she had become less touchy feely in the normal run of things, she had raised the temperature in the bedroom.
She'd always been a hot little thing in the bedroom, all tits and ass and all through our 15 years together, 12 of those married but things began to change, our standard bed antics had subtle changes, it almost seemed she must have been taking sex improvement classes.
Then the fucking penny dropped, that is exactly what she's been doing. Perfecting her skills with some other fucker. The treacherous cunt was cheating on me, playing me for a fool. OK we'll see who the fool is.
I took a couple of days to plan it, would I hire a PI? Would I plant a sound recorder in her purse? Maybe install hidden cameras in the house in case she was dumb enough to fuck her lover in my bed?
I thought about all possible options, then I just thought, fuck it, I'll kill the bitch, no half measures no possible come back, no alimony to pay, no having to find some chump's apartment that I'd hate but could barely afford. None of that shit, just end her and if I could do the same to him, well, everyone loves a two for the price of one deal, I'm no different, just a common Joe with simple tastes.
OK, now we are getting somewhere. So, I wonder is there a section for hitmen in the yellow pages, nah, probably not, shit I'll do a DIY job, think of the fun, do it yourself man, make yourself proud, take action and fuck their lives into the trash.
OK, so what are the chances of getting away with it? Well, statistically 1 in 3 women murdered in 2021 in US were killed by someone they were in a relationship though that includes all cases, not those only relating to cheating. So, the odds of a husband doing his wife in are pretty convincing especially if she is found dead in the company of some cunt, she has obviously been doing then horizontal mambo with.
Getting away with it could be tricky and I'm fucked if I want to spend years with ordinary decent crims in prison, probably get my asshole reconfigured and become somebody's bitch.
Fuck that for a game of soldiers. I'm starting to wonder should I just divorce her, when once again, the desperate notion of a shitty life in a shitty apartment eating shitty food because I can't afford decent food. Oh fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, why couldn't the cunt keep her legs closed. With easy options, and I'm damned if the whore is getting alimony from me so she can continue to fuck this asshole in relative comfort.
Over dinner that night I decided to have a bit of harmless fun with the slut.
"Hey babe, something I've been wondering."
She looked up and having stuffed another giant forkful of spaghetti into her cake hole, mumbled, "Eehhhhh?"
"How did you learn to take my cock right down your throat? Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't appreciate it, it's just that on my birthday you almost choked when you had half my dick in your mouth. What's changed, have you been practicing?"
The bitch nearly saved me the trouble of offing her, she almost choked to death in front of me on her mouth full of pasta and meat sauce, but sadly no luck. I gallantly got her a glass of water before following up with, "and as for licking Jimmy's arsehole...." I'm Jimmy by the way.
She ran out of the room and wouldn't speak to me the rest of the night.
Well over the next couple of days I had no more bright ideas, then in a flash came to me, a murder-suicide, good luck punishing me for that. I had an idea and decided to write a confession and leave it on my body.
I had a real bit of luck; she must have thought I had not got home from work for I heard her talking happily, on the phone to her lover, not even keeping her voice down. "OK Billy, I'll see you at the Bates Motel at 12:30 on Wednesday, usual room 711." You'll be seeing more than that cunt I thought to myself.
Result! I had now internally started calling her Dumbo, her ears weren't that big, her tits were huge, and she had an arse the size of a small country, Dumbo fitted. So, the where and when was decided, now for a quick shopping trip to buy what would become known as "the murder weapon."
The first two places I called into seemed to want me to sit a quiz to see if I was mentally unstable -- fuck of course I was, my wife was a fucking cheating slut, I'm reduced to near lunacy FFS. So eventually, I found Spiro, a Greek gent, not keen on paperwork, but an expensive option. Who cares I thought, there are no pockets in a shroud, you can't take it with you, pay the man.
