Strange Car in the Driveway: Sequel

Strange Car in the Driveway: The Play is Ended.

This is a sequel to EdRider73's "Strange Car in the Driveway" (

https://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?url=strange-car-in-the-driveway

). If you haven't read it, take a few moments and do so now, otherwise my story will only confuse you. (Which it might do, anyway.)

Many thanks to EdRider73 for permission to play along with his characters. I suspect I'm taking them a different direction from what he had in mind, though I would like to think it's a plausible one. Any errors or inconsistencies are mine, not his. But I couldn't just leave poor old Gary sitting there with that letter in his hand...

*****

I had been troubled all day by our conversation the night before. I had known Vera had something specific in mind that she wasn't telling me, in spite of our promise to always tell each other everything. I hadn't been able to puzzle it out. Well, now I knew.

How could she do this? How could she say how sorry she was, and then go ahead and do it? How could she talk about love and forgiveness, while she was setting this up? How could she do all this and claim to love me? Most importantly, could I stay married to a woman who could plan and execute something so cold-bloodedly cruel?

Vera obviously expected me to be angry, and to entertain her and her buddy Reg by raging about the room while they listened at Denny's. To my own surprise, I felt no anger, just a deep sense of irreparable loss. I would never again be able to think of Vera, or feel for her, the way I had a mere half hour ago. I felt like just walking out and never coming back, but that wouldn't be fair to our daughters. ("I hope you do anything you feel like..." Yeah, right.) Finally, I had an idea. I addressed my listening audience through the tablet.

"Well, Vera, you got what you wanted. Or rather, what you said you wanted. I hope, when all is said and done, you'll think it was worth it.

"As you said, you manipulated me into promising to forgive you for this. You're right, that was disgusting. But a manipulated promise is no promise at all, so I don't consider it binding. As for my giving you permission to do this to me without knowing it - tell me, if one of the girls tried that line on you, how far would they get?

"You cold-bloodedly set me up so you could sit there at Denny's with your writing buddy and listen to my heart get ripped out of me. Congratulations - it worked. I hope it was dramatic enough for you. But you have done more than that. You have caused me to question everything I thought I knew about you, because I could never have imagined your being so selfish and cruel to anyone, especially someone you claimed to love. Obviously, I was wrong.

"Vera, we've been married almost ten years. They've been the best ten years of my life, because of you. I will always thank you for that. I'm sorry you chose this way of ending it.

"The gun you hid was one of a pair. The other is in my hand right now. Goodbye, Vera."

What sounded like a loud explosion was actually a heavy hardback book striking the hardwood floor at a high rate of speed. I think it was the TCP/IP Encyclopedia, but I don't remember for sure. I did a fairly artistic job of falling to the floor, and lay still.

It would take her about 10 minutes to get here from Denny's, maybe 8 if she drove like a maniac and hit the lights green. I lay still for five minutes to make sure she wasn't still listening through the tablet, then quietly got up. I put the book away, cleared standing space for myself in my closet, entered, and shut the door.

I didn't have long to wonder whether my play-acting would be as 'realistic' as hers. It was barely two minutes before I heard the front door slam open. Vera was crying my name. In a delicious irony, her tablet began to play again, just as she and Reg had set it up to do. The dialogue of her realistically-imagined not-quite-infidelity was the perfect background for her frantic wails. She stormed up the stairs, past the broken door, into our bedroom. I thought for a moment I heard a second pair of footsteps, but I might have been wrong.

I had intended to wait in the closet for no more than 15 minutes (her letter said, "I hope this doesn't last longer than 15 minutes") and then reveal myself. The recording stopped, and her wails faded to sobs. I heard her as she walked around the room, then sat on the bed.

"Oh, Reg, what have I done? What have I done?"

Wait a minute, what was he doing in our bedroom? I heard another body, heavier than Vera's, sit on our bed. Her sobbing became muffled, as if her face was buried in a shirt. A male voice murmured something I couldn't catch. Gradually her sobs died down. Another noise - a little gasp from Vera. Rustling from the bed clothes. The noises a mattress makes when people are shifting around on it. Come on, they wouldn't really do it here and now, would they?

"Oh, Reg..." They would. She was moaning softly now, the way she does during foreplay. A little feminine chuckle.

"Here, let me help you with that." Reg must've had trouble with the catch on her bra. More shifting and rustling.

"Oh, yes, that's just right." Light sucking sounds told me that Vera was getting oral attention somewhere; her moans told me she liked it.

Of course I knew where this was headed. Why didn't I stop them? First, it was obvious from Vera's complete lack of resistance that if I stopped them now, they would only postpone it to another time. More importantly, this meant I would never have to second-guess the decision I had already more than half way arrived at. So I stood quietly and listened as my wife finished off what remained of our once-nearly-perfect marriage.

"Here, let me move this out of the way." That must have been Vera's tablet. Was it recording, I wondered? I heard a zipper being lowered. I heard the squishing sounds that fingers make in a wet cunt. I heard my wife panting between her moans. I heard Reg get off the bed; heard clothes rustling and falling to the floor, the clank of a belt buckle hitting hardwood; heard Vera stir restlessly.

"Are you naked yet?"

"Yes."

"Then get over here."

Giggles from both of them, as they repeated lines from that infernal play. The mattress creaked again.

"You're so wet."

"You made me that way. Now do something about it."

"Something like this?"

"AAAAH! Yes! Yes!"

I had heard enough. I opened the closet door and stepped out. Neither of them noticed. My beautiful Vera - well, not mine any more - was stripped naked and on her back in our bed, her arms and legs flung wide in open invitation to the man above her. Who had clearly accepted the invitation, and was holding himself up with stiff arms while he rutted balls deep into her. I watched him pull almost all the way out, then smash himself back into her with all his force, her excited squeal almost drowning out the wet smacking sound as their groins collided. Again and again he pummeled her, pounding relentlessly into the surrendered softness of her wide-stretched pussy.

I'd never had a chance to observe Vera in the heat of passion. She was amazing. Even now, I spared a few moments to watch and appreciate her beauty as her slim, toned legs wrapped around Reg and clung tight. I wasn't aroused, but she was just so beautiful I had to watch for a moment. Still unnoticed, I snapped a half dozen pictures with my camera phone: my last memories of Vera.

"Hello, Vera." I had to shout to get their attention. "You must be Reg," I added in the sudden silence.

What followed was the classic wrong-people-in-bed-together discovery scene, complete with Reg falling over twice as he tried to get his pants on. It would have been hilarious in a movie. Finally, Reg got himself downstairs and out the door. Vera was gaping at me, gasping like a stranded fish, and trying to cover herself, for some reason. Obviously, any conversation would have to come from me.

"It's time to go get the girls," I told Vera. "I'll do it, and I'll take them out for pizza, as you suggested. You have some cleaning up to do." I turned and walked out of the room. I thought of something else, and turned back.

"Oh, by the way, you might want to get my gun back from Reg. He's not licensed for it, and if he's caught in possession, bad things could happen to him." And yes, I did smile as I contemplated calling CrimeStoppers with a hot tip about an improperly registered firearm. How did I know Reg had it? Simple: she said it wasn't in the house, and he was the only one in her confidence.

She found her voice when I was about halfway down the stairs. I think I heard her throwing things. But her letter said that she had removed everything valuable from the bedroom, so I wasn't worried.

Children are wonderful. They can take your mind off almost anything. We actually managed to have a good time, as the three of us dallied over pizza, and as a special treat, went to the playground afterward. Mindy did ask where mommy was; I told her - truthfully - that mommy had some cleaning up to do.

When we got home, the beater car was gone from the driveway, and Reg's speakers and the broken bedroom door were at the curb. Vera had done her cleaning up. Once the girls were in bed, she exploded - sotto voce, of course.

"How could you do that to me? Do you realize how frantic I was? This was just a play. You completely overreacted. And you promised to forgive me!" and on, and on she went. Finally, she had to pause for breath.

"Hold on," I interrupted. "You gave me permission to do this to you." I intentionally used the exact words from her letter. Vera's mouth opened, but nothing came out. I'd read of that happening, but I'd never actually seen it before. It somehow wasn't as funny in real life.

"It's even in writing. Let me read it to you." I took her letter from my pocket, opened it, and read.

"'I hope you do anything you feel like to work it out. The only thing I want to prevent is you hurting yourself - or hurting someone else and going to prison.' And then: 'No matter what you do, I deserve it.'" I folded the letter and put it away, then looked her squarely in the eye.

"But none of that - forgiveness, permission, your play - matters any more. Remember last night you said you would never do any of those things that I couldn't forgive? Well, now you have."

Vera turned white as she finally realized that what she had done today might end her marriage.

"Gary, you can't - you're not really thinking about..."

"We've both known all along that neither of us could handle the other's infidelity. We both accepted that the first time for either of us would be the end."

"But Gary, I was frantic, I was worried, I wasn't thinking straight, and he took advantage of me. How can you hold this against me?"

"You were thinking straight enough to remember lines from your play. You never said one word about please stop, or you can't, or we shouldn't. You even helped him." She had the grace to blush at that.

"You do know that's what he wanted all along, right?" Her expression told me that no, she didn't, so I explained.

"Who was it who suggested the topic for your play? Who got you to spend weeks imagining, repeatedly and in realistic detail, your own adultery with him? Who was it who gave you 'lots of pushing' to make sure you kept going? When you couldn't think of a motive for cheating on me, who gave you one - you called it 'totally sick,' but used it convincingly anyway? And who was right there to help you when you decided to do this to me? Finally, for whom did you break, for the first time in our marriage, our rule that we always tell each other everything?"

"But Gary, all I wanted was to get your real reaction..."

"No," I interrupted. "What you really wanted was to hurt me badly enough that we'd have to stage a real-life forgiveness scene like those in your classmates' plays. That's what you set me up for; that's why you manipulated me last night."

"You're right, that's what I wanted," she finally admitted. "I couldn't tell you last night, because it had to be a surprise in order to work. I could have told you in the letter, but I knew Reg would see it and I didn't want him to know. I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest, but now you understand, don't you?"

"You told another lie in your letter."

"What was that?"

"When you said you were sorry. If you had really been sorry when you wrote the letter, you wouldn't have gone through with it."

"Oh. Yes, I see what you mean. And you're right, even when I was sitting at Denny's listening to you, I wasn't sorry at all: I was glad my plan had worked so far, and I was so looking forward to being forgiven. But I knew I would be sorry later, and I guess that's what I meant. And I am sorry now." She paused.

"Gary, please, we can work through this, we'll get past this." Her voice trembled.

My voice had stopped working, so I just shook my head.

"But Gary, it was only the one time, it will never happen again." Vera pleaded desperately. "I love you! Please, you must believe me."

The shock from the play, the excitement of action, the visceral pain of watching another man fuck my wife with her full permission and enjoyment, had all drained away. I was left with only a dull ache, and an overwhelming sadness. What a waste, I thought. What a terrible, tragic, senseless waste. I said what had to be said.

"Not enough to tell me the truth." I watched the hope drain from Vera's face. It was then, and remains now, the saddest sight I've ever seen. "Not enough to keep your promise to tell me everything. Not even enough to be kind. And finally, not enough to stay faithful. Yes, I believe you love me, Vera. But not enough."

AFTERMATH.

Gary moved out and filed for divorce the next day. He petitioned for, and received, full custody of the girls. His boss asked for forgiveness and offered him a promotion and raise, as Vera had said she would. He told her that he couldn't forgive her for her part in the destruction of his marriage, and asked for a transfer to another department instead. She agreed.

Gary never got over Vera. He dated a few times after the divorce, but that only served to convince him that Vera - or Vera as she used to be - was indeed the only woman he ever wanted. He threw himself into raising their daughters, becoming a model single dad. Even when the girls were too young to be told what their mother had done, they instinctively felt how badly she had hurt their dad, and tried to make it up to him. When they were older, Gary had his counselor tell them the whole story. They came to him that evening and made a solemn promise, to which they rigidly held themselves and each other: "We'll make you proud, Dad, and we'll never break your heart."

Ten years after the divorce, Gary sat listening to Mindy deliver the valedictory at her high school graduation. Younger sister Kerry sat next to him, pointing out her contributions to the speech and assuring him that she would do even better in two years' time. "How do you know," he asked, smiling at her.

"Simple, silly. Mindy'll help me write it and she'll be two years smarter than she is now." The echo of Vera's words, her voice and smile, and Kerry's eyes so like her mother's, were still enough to make Gary's eyes tear up. Kerry took his hand in both of hers and squeezed.

"We'll never let you down, Dad. We love you."

Reg 'consoled' Vera several times over the next few weeks. They performed Reg's play, which involved successful and repeated seduction of the once-faithful wife, this time with the lights on. It got an A+, too, and a longer standing ovation than Vera's play: both the class and the teacher felt the ending was more realistic.

Reg found the writing class a target-rich environment, and he took it four more times, each time seducing his attractive, young, married partner. The teacher set him up with appropriate partners because she enjoyed watching him destroy one marriage after another, helping prove (to her, at any rate) that the 'patriarchal institution' was on its last legs. Reg's e-book "How to Seduce the 'Faithful' [sic] Wife" became an Internet best seller.

Vera's affair with Reg lasted about two months, until he dumped her to concentrate on his next beautiful, young, married, wanna-be dramatist. She ran into Gary occasionally; each time she grieved anew over what she had lost. She moved to another city mostly to avoid him. She got a job as a part-time editor, and met a co-worker who promised to both aid her career and screw her brains out. He did; they married.

Vera's determination to be faithful was not reciprocated, and she repeatedly suffered the humiliation of being cheated upon. At first she accepted it, as if it were her penance for what she did to Gary. When she finally confronted him, he told her bluntly that if she divorced him, she would never find someone to satisfy her like he could, and he would see to it that she never found a job. Vera used the skills she'd been developing to win a better job with another firm, then divorced him.

Vera attended Mindy's graduation, sitting alone at the back of the top balcony where her former family couldn't see her. A few days later, Mindy received a graduation card with no return address, but a note inside:

"Dear Mindy,

"Congratulations on your graduation, and on finishing first in your class. I loved your speech. I hope you don't mind that I came, and that I enjoyed overhearing other people talk about how wonderful you are. I hope you don't mind that I'm proud of you.

"I'm sure you know by now what I did to your father. It was inexcusable. Not a day goes by that I don't bitterly regret it. He was, and is, the best man I've ever known. I miss him, you, and your sister every day.

"I didn't think then that a single act, however selfish and cruel, could devastate another person that much. I should have known better: it can, and it cost me everything I loved. Please learn from my bitter experience.

"Always be true. Always be kind. Always treat those you love as tenderly as you hope they will treat you.

"Love,

"Your mother."