Greetings everyone,
Here is another fictional story about a cheating wife. This is not your usual storyline, I tried to make this one a touch different. Please remember it's fiction. No facts were mentioned in it. I hope you enjoy it. Happy Holidays.
================
I sat in my home, waiting for the other shoe to drop. My wife of nine years told me six weeks ago that her girlfriends had invited her to go out with them. It started with one night but quickly increased to three or four nights a month. Then she started coming home, reeking of alcohol, and her clothes and hair were messed up. She always tried to have what she called 'hot sex' on those occasions. At first, I was enjoying sex with her, as it became every time I felt my little devil crawling up my back to sit on my shoulder to have a chat with me.
The first time I refused to have sex with her, citing a migraine, she began giving me the cold shoulder. The next time she came home, she was so drunk that she fell on the floor three steps into the living room and passed out. I picked her up, got her to our bedroom, and stripped her clothes off to put her in bed. Then she mumbled. "O.k. Frank, one more time." My name is James, I looked at her, then at my pillow. As my anger hit new heights, in my mind, I saw myself smothering her and thus solving the problem. I'd go to jail, that thought stayed my hands from the pillow, I didn't want to go there.
Two weeks later, she was out again when my phone went off. It was my friend Tim from work. "James, I don't mean to butt into your relationship with your wife, but I took my date to that new club that opened up. Your wife is here, and the way she's acting makes me think you two are in trouble."
Thinking she was drunk again, "Yeah, she went out with her friends again tonight." I shook my head, already knowing how it would go when she came home.
"I've never seen a girl's night out look quite like this. Let me send you a few pictures," Tim said in a cautious voice. "Give me a minute, then I'll send them to you."
That little devil took an express elevator up my spine. I had a feeling it was going to be bad news, so I poured myself some cognac and then I took the bottle with me back into the living room. I put the bottle on the coffee table and had just sat down when my phone pinged letting me know I had a message. I hit the button and saw my wife hanging off of some black guy on the dance floor whose hands had lifted my wife's dress enough so he could squeeze my wife's ass with only her panties between her ass and his hands. My wife Bethany was grinding her pussy on his cock. My first drink didn't last that long before I was pouring the second.
When my phone pinged again, now it showed his hands down the back of her panties, grabbing her ass while they were exchanging a passionate kiss while they had their tongues halfway down each other's throat. All I could think about was where I could hide the bodies. The next picture showed Beathny's hands on his wrists, pushing his hands down farther into her panties.
I was already pouring myself another double when he sent me a video clip of them back at their table. A white guy had his face pushing against her chest, while the same black guy had his hand so far under her dress that you couldn't see his wrists between her spread legs. The next one showed everyone sitting at the table. That's when I saw her cheating slut friend Jenny squirming on a guys lap, the guy had his head laid back enjoying the moment. The next showed the slut raised up from his lap, it showed his cock out, and the head was buried in her pussy.
Then I got another, and the camera moved closer to the table and passed close to the back of their booth. Her slut friend Jenny was clearly heard asking Bethany, "How long are we staying?"
I clearly heard Bethany's reply, trying to stifle her scream as she came. "I'm not leaving here tonight until Ray and Toby and somebody else makes me airtight again, it gets me so hot when they do that!"
Jenny laughed, "Looks like the cuck is being served another cream pie again!"
To which Bethany replied, "As long as James keeps giving me money, I really don't care having him sitting at home waiting to clean me up!" The whole table had a good laugh about that.
I had to go out, any place other than the house, as of that moment, it ceased to be my home. I drove around in my pickup for a while. I wanted a cigarette, so I stopped by an open supermarket. My mind was spinning, thinking why the slut was doing this to me. I'm 6' 2" and 260 pounds tall, I have red hair, and look pretty good. I joined a gym a couple of years ago to build my muscles up and get back in shape. It seems almost a waste of time now.
My mind began to work on my problem. I took stock of my life.
I created my own company from the ground up, nothing big, still it makes me about 2.5 million a year. Taxes, payroll, insurance, and my lawyers eat up more than half of it, but I still make a good living. I enjoy doing things for myself, not hiring someone to do the work for me. Bethany, on the other hand, has to have a driver run her to the hospital if she breaks a fingernail. She whines endlessly if she doesn't have 2 vacations a year. God, what a selfish fucking bitch she turned out to be!
My company makes the wires and connections from computers to earthmovers. It's not glamorous, but every factory around here relies on my company to supply them so they can keep running at a reasonable price, I might add. When I started my company, Bethany was very cost-conscious about everything in our lives as I poured every dime I made back into the business. As my business grew, so did the amount of money we made. She had started complaining, 'We need a larger house to entertain your clients when they come over, then it was 'We need a pool so I can swim to keep looking good for you," and of course, 'I can't be seen driving such an old car' She had to have a new one every 2 years. Then, 'I need to have maid service for the house.' Then, 'We have to have a chef,' and please, don't get me started about where we had to eat if we went out.
The more the business grew, the more she said she needed to maintain her appearance in the community, so she bought more clothes that she wore once or twice. My question is, She owns thousands of dollars of clothing for herself, but why did every purchase she made have to have four pairs of shoes to go with it?
The next week I hired a PI, and damn, was he good! He sat me down in his office and slid a three-inch thick folder to me. Telling me if I wanted to watch the DVDs, it would be best to have a drink or four beforehand. In the folder, there were miles of video and audio files on memory sticks that I put in my safe a couple of weeks later. Bethany and her trainer, Toby, demonstrated the many uses a massage table had besides being a massage table. Some of the pictures and videos surprised me. I never knew the human body could bend that way, doing some of the positions I saw them doing. Our love life went from four to two times a week, then blow jobs and hand jobs. I stopped altogether, fearing getting an STD.
Then came the headaches that she used to get out of having sex. She told me she was going to the doctor to find out what was wrong with her. Then I had another two-inch folder plus audio files to place in my safe. I also found out she fucked the doctor on a regular basis so he would make sure that she didn't have any children. I wanted children, but apparently Bethany did not and had him make sure that didn't happen.
I had to make a plan where we would get divorced, but she couldn't rape me or my company in the divorce. I had to act like nothing happened before I could put my plan in place. I should have won an award playing that I was clueless about what was going on. Then the answer came to me in the supermarket a week later. It seemed that Karma was working in my favor.
While I was doing my own shopping, there was a dark-haired woman who was totally stunning to me in every way, standing just three people ahead of me in the line with a beautiful child sitting in her cart. The checkout person started to get angry with her because her card had been declined and then reported stolen. Then she pushed the button that told their security guards they were needed. They pushed her cart off to the side, then stood on each side of her and began asking questions, trying to act like Jr. policemen. They told her they called the police and they would be arriving shortly. Her little girl was scared and shaking, clinging to her Mother while she screamed.
They made her sit down on a small bench and wait for the police. The woman pulled out a phone and placed a call. By the time I was at the checkout, she was screaming into the phone, "Terry, where is the child support you're supposed to be paying?" Then she yelled, "What do you mean you're not paying it anymore? The judge said you had to! What do you mean you found a job in Mexico?" Then she screamed into the phone, "She's your child too, don't you even give a shit about her? The next time I see you, you're going to die very slowly, you Mother fucker!"
Then she slammed the phone down on the bench as her body began shaking. Everything that was happening was scaring the child half to death. She had no idea what was happening, she just wrapped her arms around her mother's neck screaming and crying.
Two policemen came in, and the store manager pointed at them and said something to them. They began walking over. I had always supported the police and made healthy donations at their gatherings. I happened to recognize one of them. "Hey there, Bill, how's it going?"
"James, it's good to see you! I'm here doing something I don't want to do." He turned to the woman and said, "Stand up, please." I also noticed what could only be a CPS woman enter the store, and start walking up to them, looking at the child. I looked the check-out lady in the eyes and said, "This isn't going to end well for you." She just gave me a confused look.
