03

(i)Copyright Skip1934a 1 October 2006

This story is fiction, and none of the characters or events in this story is real

This is chapter 2 of several chapters, probably five, if I can develop it in that few. Thanks, to those writers and readers who offered valuable advice and suggestions in their comments. Feedback is always welcome, as it is a major means of learning for a new writer. For those of you who merely attacked me personally, and offered no reason for not liking the story, your comments went straight to the trashcan. I invite you to seek other stories to read. This one is intended to be erotic, not pornographic. There will eventually be sex scenes but they are to advance the story, not your masturbation urges.

A/N I promised a decision by Skip in this chapter. Regrettably, that decision will be delayed, probably until chapter 4. But he will make a decision than changes the direction of his life.(i /I)

Skip was furious that Sandy had just walked out supposedly to see Shirley. He had the feeling that Shirley would not see Sandy tonight at all. He was sure that Sandy was going out to fuck that bastard.

He dialed Shirley's number when he thought that Sandy would be there, if she was actually going to go there.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Shirl. Skip here. Is Sandy there? She said she might drop by."

"No, Skip. She's not here. Want me to have her call you if she does?"

"Nah. Nothing important Shirl. It can wait 'till she's home. How've you been?"

"Things are going pretty well for now. I've got a new squeeze. Don't think you know him, though. His name's Greg, and he's a real nice kinda guy. I Think we're gonna get along just fine. Lot of things in common, and all that."

"Well, that's great, Shirl. I'm happy for you. Listen, I've gotta go. Things to do, so talk to ya later, OK?"

"Sure, Skip. See you around. Bye"

Skip dropped the phone back on the hook. Shirley had been a friend of his since high school. They didn't really run in the same circles, but they saw each other at parties from time to time. He remembered that Shirley and Sandy met while the two of them were bar hopping with the same crowd of girls a few years ago. They seemed to fit well together for some unknown reason. Shirley didn't seem to share the general opinion that Sandy was a slut. So she stood up for Sandy when Skip and Sandy tied the knot four years ago.

Was it really four years ago? He thought it seems like yesterday when he and Sandy married, he 24 and Sandy 21. And they were so happy together then. How had things gotten so botched up? The sex had been great. Sandy seemed to love his nine-inch cock, and she loved the way he ate her out. He remembered her telling him he was the best cunt sucker she had ever met. Well, Sandy wasn't the only one to tell him that. Almost every girl he had ever laid before he married Sandy said the same thing. But Sandy seemed to enjoy his talent more than most. He could bring her to orgasm after orgasm before he even thought about teasing his cock into her. Ha! Teasing his cock into her? Well it may have started that way, but he had always accelerated to hard humping when she started screaming for more cock.

But now? Where did the passion go? Wherever it went, it went a couple of months ago. She used to come home from her 'girl's night out' ready and willing to get herself fucked silly. Then she started coming home and going right to the shower. "I feel dirty, Skip. Just let me shower, and then we can cuddle, OK?" And after the shower, the sex was only mediocre. Kinda like a pity fuck, Skip thought. His thought stayed on this theme until late into the night. He was determined to stay up until Sandy came home. He was going to ask her about her visit with Shirley. So he settled into his recliner with beer and pretzels, watching whatever he could find that appealed on TV.

He was almost asleep when he heard a car pull into the driveway. He glanced at his watch and it was almost 3am. He couldn't see the car from the living room, so he stepped out into the shadows in the carport to see if it was Sandy. The headlights of the car had been extinguished, and it was not Sandy's Mustang. He could only see one person in the car. It was some guy, and he had his head back on the headrest. and was looking down into his lap. Skip watched for a minute and decided to just go back inside. He really didn't want to see what he thought was going on in the car.

Twenty minutes later he heard a car door slam shut, then Sandy's key in the door into the kitchen from the carport. He heard the car leaving the driveway just as Sandy came into the living room. Sandy's blouse was pulled out from her skirt and none of the buttons were fastened. She had a silly grin on her face, as she often did when she was three sheets to the wind.

"Where have you been, Sandy? And where's your Mustang?"

"Oh, hi, honey. How's my lovin' hubby tonight?"

Skip raised his voice to a higher level "Answer my fuckin' questions Sandy. Where have you been? And where's your car?"

The tone of his voice ticked her off, even as drunk as she seemed to be. "Don't start on me you wimp! I'm not your kid. You don't control me. I go where I want, and I'll damn well leave my car where I want to." She tried to stare him down. Usually he would be the first to break eye contact, and lower his eye submissively in defeat. This time it didn't happen.

"Sandy, answer me!" He was surprisingly emphatic. Sandy plopped down on the sofa, fire in her eyes.

"OK, wimp. I went to dinner with a guy, Greg. Then we went to his apartment and fucked our brains out. OK? I left my car at the restaurant. You can take me there to get it tomorrow."

"I knew it, you unfaithful bitch! This isn't the first time, either. Is it?" he was almost screaming.

"You're damn right it's not the first time, Skip. I've been fucking around since before we were married. And you've been sucking other guy's cum outta me all along. So what's new, pussycat?"

"What's new, if you want to call it new, is that I expect my wife to honor her wedding vows, and remain faithful to me. Remember, 'forsaking all others'?"

"That's a bunch of crap. Wake up to the 21st century, wimp. Nobody does that anymore. They're just a bunch of words to fill out some time in the fuckin' ceremony."

"I'm not a wimp, and you know it."

"Oh, yeah? I'll just show you how much of a wimp you are."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"You'll see, lover boy. G'night." Sandy rose from the sofa and staggered to the bedroom. Just before she entered the room she turned and said, "Want some sloppy seconds, hun?"

Skip didn't answer. He followed her to the bedroom but when he tried the door, he found it locked. He slept on the sofa that night. Not comfortably.

Skip let Sandy out in the restaurant parking lot next to her Mustang. Neither said much to the other that morning. Sandy was pissed, and Skip was angry. Or was it the other way around? Or is it the same thing? Anyway, their words to each other were sparse, and cold.

Skip waited as Sandy got into her car and drove away. He wasn't surprised that she didn't head back home, but the opposite direction. Skip had clients to check on from his home office, so he didn't even try to follow her. When he finished his work, Sandy was still not home. Skip was beginning not to care. He wasted the rest of the day in his office emailing potential clients, trying to pump up his business. Not that he needed to. He had a good client base that kept his computer consultant business doing well. He grossed over $250,000.00 in personal income the past year. He was frugal, though, and didn't spend much on himself. That's why he still drove a12 year old Chevy. But Sandy spent more than her share of his money, he mused. A new Mustang, tons of Victoria Secrets stuff, and shoes out the wahoo. Not to mention all the jewelry. Five thou worth just last month, he remembered. What was she doing? Stocking her own jewelry store or something? He wondered why he still loved her.

After ordering in some Chinese for dinner he settled back in his office to go over his financial statements. The Chinese came, and he tipped the delivery boy, and took dinner into the office. Half way through the meal, he heard Sandy come in. He didn't bother to leave the office. She can get her own damn dinner, he thought.

He got sleepy around 11pm, so he left the office and headed for the bedroom. When he got close he heard the unmistakable sounds of fucking through the closed door. He tried the door, and it was locked.

"Shit!" he muttered. He went to the door to the carport and saw three cars- his, Sandy's, and the car that had been there the night before. I guess that's Greg's car, he thought. Shirley's new fuckbuddy? Was that who Sandy was fucking tonight? Again? And in his own bedroom?

Skip slept on the uncomfortable sofa again. Fitfully.

Super Wimp Chapter 3

Skip snoops, finds a journal, and fucks Sandy

Skip woke twice during the night. Both times he slipped quietly to the bedroom door, and the first time Sandy was still going at it with whoever the guy was. Greg he assumed. The second time, he could hear nothing through the door. He checked the carport, and the third car was gone.

He tried sleeping again but could only doze. He heard Sandy start the water in the shower of the master bedroom bath, so he went to the guest room bath and showered there. By the time he finished, he saw that the master bedroom door to the hall was open, so he went in, not finding Sandy. So he dressed and headed for the kitchen. As he got closer he heard Sandy's Mustang roar to life and pull out of the driveway. "Where the hell is she going now?' he wondered. He started the coffee and scrambled a few eggs, and made some toast. While he was getting that ready he remembered it was Saturday, and he had a tee time at the club, with Brent. No rush. He still had plenty of time to make their 11 o'clock tee time.

He finished breakfast, and decided to do some snooping in Sandy's space. He was careful not to mess things up and draw attention to his invasion of her space. He didn't find anything unusual in the drawers, but when he opened a shoebox on the shelf in her closet he found a journal of some kind under a stack of old letters and other odds and ends. He thumbed through the pages of the journal and found some interesting entries. He decided to take a closer look later, since he had to get to the golf course. He hid the journal deep in a drawer of his desk in the home office, grabbed his golf bag and shoes and headed to the course.

The conversation was casual at first, but by the third hole, Brent said, "Skip, your game is really off today. Something bothering you?"

"Yeah. Sandy."

Before he teed off for the next hole, Brent asked, "Need to talk about it/" His drive went straight down the fairway.

"I don't know. Maybe it would help. I just feel like my world has turned to shit these last couple of months." Skip sliced his drive into the woods.

"Skip, you're my best friend. I hate seeing you like this. Let's call this abortion off and go swallow some good brew. On me."

"Yeah, this game isn't doing anything for me. Let's go back to the clubhouse."

They jumped into the golf cart and headed back to the bar. Brent led Skip to a remote corner booth, and sitting, he said, "OK. Let's hear it buddy."

Skip slipped in across from his friend, answering, "I don't really know where to start. So I'll just go back to when I first met Sandy and go from there. How much time you got, Brent?"

"Well we were up for 19 holes, and I had nowhere to go after that, so I guess I've got 'til in the mornin'."

"Thanks, Brent. You're a great guy. You remember that party we went to, oh, five years ago now, I guess. The one down by the lake? That's the first time I ever saw Sandy. I was so impressed, or maybe I was stunned by how attractive she seemed to me. I tried to stay close to her, and it seemed like she was ignoring me. I guess I just don't impress people. Never have. Every time I tried to strike up a conversation with her she just gave me a curt answer, or just turned away to talk to another guy. But later on she tripped over a fallen tree when she headed down to the lakeshore. Nobody seemed to pay any attention to her, but I could tell she was hurt. When she stood up and tried to walk, she limped. I went down and offered to help her back to a table or something, and I was surprised that she accepted. We got to talking, and she opened up to me a little. Her smile was captivating, and I guess I was hooked on her then. After talking for a while I asked her how her ankle was feeling. She said she thought it might be broken, 'cause it really was hurting. I offered to take her to a doctor, or the ER at the hospital, and she said that would be great. So we left. I think you saw us leave. I know some other guys did. The doctor at the ER checked her out, took x-rays and stuff. He looked at the results and told us it was just a sprain, and told her to just stay off of it for a while. He gave her a prescription for the pain, and we left.

"I asked her where she wanted me to take her, and we ended up at her place. When I got her inside and sitting on the sofa, she asked me to stay for a little while. So I did, and one thing led to another, and we ended up in the sack. The next morning I took her back to the lake to get her car. I remember it was an old Chevy Vega. Must have been twenty-five or thirty years old. Maybe more. When did they quit making that piece of junk? It was a stick shift, so I offered to drive it back for her, and she followed in my car. Man, her's was a real piece of shit. When we got back, she invited me in for a beer. You know I never pass up free beer. Well, we ended up in the sack again. She was a tiger in bed, and that's when she told me she loved how I ate her out. I was on cloud nine by then and asked her if we could see each other again. She said she'd be disappointed if I didn't fuck her senseless every day. And that's what got us going together, if you can call it that.

After a few days, some of the guys that were at the party told me she was a slut, and had fucked every man in the county. I didn't believe them. I though they were trying to scare me away from her so they could make a move on her. I guess I'm just gullible."

Brent broke in, "Damn right you are, Skip. Those guys were right. But then, you've always been gullible, you know? From grammar school on. But go on."

"Yeah. I know. I never was one to stand up for myself. Don't know why, It's just me, I guess. I have always backed down from confrontations. I just don't like controversy, and try to avoid them any way I can. You know I've always been like that. Shit, I can't count the times you helped me out of those kinds of situations. And I'll believe anything anybody tells me until I catch him or her in a lie. . So, anyway, we kept our thing going, and eventually I knew I loved her. I wanted to marry her, so we could spend the rest of our lives together, ya know? Live happily ever after. What I didn't know then was that she was spreading her pussy around just like I guess she always did. If ignorance were bliss I'd be a blister. But she said yes when I proposed, and we got married a year later. Well, you know that. Best man and all. I was in heaven, and I guess what they say about love being blind is true. I sure was blind. You'd think that someone with a Master's degree would be a little more savvy. Not me. You know as well as anybody that I'm a trusting soul. And I trusted Sandy, despite what all those guys told me about her.

"But I know now who and what she is. I still love her, though. What the fuck am I going to do, Brent?"

"I don't know, Skip. I guess you just need to make a decision. If you love her enough to stay with her while she fucks around, you just have to accept it for what it is, I guess. But I hate to see you in a situation like that. Maybe you need to ship her out. You know, get a divorce and cut your losses. Get back into the single crowd and look for someone else."

"Yeah, you're prob'ly right. Look, I'm gonna head back to the house. See ya 'round, OK? Thanks for the bull session, buddy."

"Yeah, no sweat, Skip. Hope you can work it out."

As Skip headed home, Brent's words 'get a divorce and cut your losses' resonated in his head. He made a decision. Get some evidence so he could use it in a divorce if he wanted to go that way. So he made a detour and stopped at an electronics distributor where Carl, another friend worked. He was sure Carl would know what he needed, and sure enough, he came away with motion activated miniature wireless video cameras that he could download directly into his computer from the base receiver. He had a GPS device that he could hide under the Mustang, and track her car wherever it went within transmitting distance, about twelve miles, the instructions told him. Then a small voice activated recorder he would put in her car to capture conversation.

When he got home, Sandy was still gone. Good, he thought. I'll go ahead and install the video cameras. In the master bedroom he put one behind a large picture hanging on the wall. He had to make a small hole in the picture to give the camera a view of the bedroom, but he was proud that the hole was virtually un-noticeable. Then in the living room be put one up beside the smoke detector. It looked like part of the detector, he thought, surveying his work. The last camera was installed just above the carport, aimed to view the driveway. Since they were wireless transmitters, he finished quickly.

He was in his office checking that the receiver worked and he could download the recordings to his computer when he heard the distinctive sound of the Mustang in the driveway. He shut down the computer, and went out to the kitchen. Sandy was just coming through the door,

"Hi, Skip," she said, smiling brightly, just as she used to do when they were first married, "How's my lover doing this afternoon?"

"I... I'm fine, Sandy. Where've you been?"

"Oh, Macy's had a big sale on today, and I spent a sinful amount of your money," she replied, smiling broadly again. "Would you bring them in for me, honey? I'll make it worth your while." This time she winked with her dazzling smile.

"Sure. I'll get 'em in." Skip headed for the Mustang.

While he was doing that Sandy was thinking she needed to butter him up a bit, just to keep him in line. She thought he was getting a bit antsy about what she was doing. She started peeling off her clothes, leaving a trail of them from the kitchen to their bedroom.

As Skip came in, loaded with boxes, hanging clothes, and bags of stuff he didn't even look at, he saw Sandy's trail of clothes, and he knew what she was doing. She used to do that a lot when she was horny. His cock started rising. When he got to the bedroom he started, "My god Sandy, did you leave anything in the store?" He was going to say more but the sight of Sandy on the bed took his breath away. There she was, in nothing but garter belt, stockings and shoes, head propped up on two pillows, grinning widely

"Lover," she said, " just drop that stuff in the corner and come to me. I have something for you. I know you'll like it." Her grin changed to that cute little impish pout she used when she was aroused, and unsated. The arena was set to go.

Skip dropped everything in a corner and quickly shed his clothes. Before he even finished undressing, Sandy cooed, "hurry up, lover. I need your cock in me now. I'm so horny I could scream."

He mounted the bed, kneeling between her open thighs. "Guide my cock in, Sandy, I'm as ready as I can be for this."

She reached between her open thighs and felt the thick cock head. She sighed passionately as she looked up at her husband and guided his big tool into her opening. As she pressed it to the mouth of her pussy he pushed gently inserting his cock filling her as deeply as he was able. She was able to accommodate his size easily as he slid inside her. Skip noticed that she was stretched and now her tunnel was being stretched again.