Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to Copperbutterfly for her editing to make this a better story.
*
I had been working 12 hour days six days a week for 13 weeks so when the boss said that the project was in good enough shape I could take that Friday afternoon off, I wasn't about to argue with him. Tiredly I headed home.
I was mildly surprised to see Yvonne's car pulled up into the middle of our driveway, blocking the entrance to both garage units, so I parked on the street. She must have forgotten something she needed at work and came home on her lunch hour to get it.
I let myself in the unlocked front door and closed it behind me. Looking around, I expected to find Yvonne in the kitchen or the room we used as a home office but they were both empty. I thought I heard sounds from upstairs so I assumed she must be up there. I started up the carpeted stairs.
I was still a few steps from the upper landing when I heard words that caused my tiredness to fall like raindrops off a slicker. It was my wife Yvonne pleading, "Fuck me, baby, come on, harder, faster, do it, honey. I need your cock!"
That did not portend well for things to come. Silently I climbed the remaining steps and turned to our open bedroom door. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, the bed covers had been thrown off the mattress onto the floor at the foot of the bed, and Yvonne was laying on her back in the center of the bed, holding her legs up near her shoulders. On his knees above her, driving his slick cock into Yvonne's frothy pussy was my supposed best friend, Wayne Jorgenson.
I stepped up to the side of the bed before either of them saw me. Through clenched teeth, I growled, "What th' hell is going on here?"
Wayne looked up at me with the face of someone in the throes of passion. He had crammed his cock into Yvonne and was holding her hips tightly and I knew that he was pumping her full of his cum.
"Oh, my god! Raymond, what are you doing here?" Yvonne asked, shock registering on her face. The only time she called me Raymond was when she was confused.
"No, my beloved wife! The question is what th' hell are YOU doing here?" I turned to Wayne and shoved him as hard as I could, dislodging him from his position inside my wife. "Some friend you are."
"Hey, I'm just doing what you're not man enough to do."
"WHAT?" I screamed.
"You aren't man enough to take care of her. Some of us have to do what you can't."
"Get th' fuck out of here, you bastard. If I ever see you here -- or anywhere else with Yvonne -- you'll be trying to digest lead. Get out!"
Wayne picked up his clothes and insolently slouched out of the room.
"Raymond ... Ray, this is not what you think. I'm not ... "
"Not cheating on me? Not screwing somebody besides your husband? Not breaking your wedding vows? BULLSHIT!"
"Ray, I was just ... I had to have ... what you can't give me."
"And what th' fuck does that mean? Are you saying I don't make you cum? I don't satisfy you when we make love? No, wait. We weren't making love, were we? It was just fucking to you, wasn't it?"
"No! No, it wasn't like that, Ray. Of course you satisfy me when we make love. And, yes, Ray, it is making love. I do love you, Ray. You're the only man I love."
"Then why th' hell were you screwing my so-called best friend?"
"Because ... because I need more than you can give me." Her voice was nearly a whisper.
"You WHAT?" I screamed.
"I need more than you ... can give me."
"What are you talking about, woman?"
"I need to be fucked more often than you can do it, Ray."
"Oh? Since when?"
"Since forever. Since ... before we were married."
"We've been doing it four or five times every week since before we got married. Are you saying that is not enough for you?"
"No, it's not." Again she was whispering.
"And just how often do you think you need to be screwed?"
"At least three times ... a day."
"Three times a DAY? And it never occurred to you to tell me this?"
"No. I knew you couldn't do that consistently."
"But you didn't even fucking try, did you?"
"No."
"Wayne said 'some of us,' didn't he? How many are there?"
She said something so softly I couldn't even hear.