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.
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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.
"What? Speak up. How many?"
"Eleven."
"Eleven? You have been fucking eleven men? You've been screwing eleven fucking cocks? What kind of fucking slut are you, woman?"
"I need sex, Ray. But I don't love them. I love you, Ray. I've always come home to you, Ray."
"Damn! Now that's some fuckin' consolation, isn't it? My fucking wife loves me ... but she screws everything that wears pants. You fucking bitch!"
I walked to the dresser and picked up a writing pad and pen, then dropped it on her naked lap.
"Name them. I want first names and last names. If I don't know them, I want to know where you met them. Don't try to change the names. If I find out you lied about any of them or left someone off, so help me I'll kill you. Start writing!"
Yvonne looked up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Wha ... what are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet but I want to know every man you have been intimate with. That means whether it was oral or intercourse or just a hand job, I want to know their names. Write!"
She sobbed but began to write. I backed away and watched. She took nearly twenty minutes to write the list, stopping every so often to think. I could only hope that she wasn't making up names to protect her lovers.
When she finally handed me the list, I read each name, finding that I knew most of them either personally or by name from discussions we had about her work. Besides Wayne, there were two other men from our neighborhood. There were three salesmen, two mail clerks and one warehouse manager from her office. There was one of her old lovers from high school. The last name was a man she had met at a local supermarket, a total stranger. Ohmygawd, what a complete, total slut she was!
Shit! I was brokenhearted. I had loved Yvonne with all my heart. True we had only been married for three years, but I had been completely monogamous since our first date, over four years earlier. I thought she had been too, but that's what happens when you assume -- it makes and ass out of you and me. Well, me, at least!
I took the list and went across the hall to our guest bedroom, slamming the door after me. I flopped down on the bed, pondering what had happened and what courses of action were available to me. That my marriage was over was a given. Love? Sheeit! She didn't know the meaning of the word.
I had dealt with an attorney a couple of times for company business. Dragging out the phone book, I flipped open my cell phone and called his office. He wasn't available but I identified myself to his secretary, reminding her that I had dealt with him for company business and I wanted his recommendation for a divorce attorney. A half hour later, he called back and gave me two names of lawyers that he said were very good in that line of work. He recommended the woman, Ms. Sally M. Ross, as his first choice.
I called her office and her secretary said that she had an opening at 10:30 the following morning, although she only worked until noon on Saturdays. I assured her I would be there on time.
I lay there thinking about what I would do. Right from the beginning, I knew I would never harm Yvonne, no matter how upset and disgusted I was with her actions. She probably deserved to have some sort of corporal punishment but it was not in my makeup to do that kind of thing to a woman. Now the men were something entirely different. I looked over the list, wondering how many of them were married, how many had kids. I wanted my revenge on the men so I'd have to contemplate what might hurt them the worst.
As for as Yvonne was concerned, I intended to leave her. I knew that the laws of the state would probably result in her getting half of all our assets and I probably couldn't do much about that. However I didn't intend for her to get one cent more than I absolutely had to give her.
I was thankful that we had decided to wait a few years before we started a family. We both wanted kids but wanted to get established first. That thought gave me an idea. When we were first married, I had started a little savings account, ostensibly for 'the kids college fund', assuming that we would one day have kids. I had added to that account every payday, never telling Yvonne that we had that fund to use when the kids needed it. In just three years it had already become a tidy little sum ... but I didn't intend to declare it as part of our assets. It wasn't her money and I didn't feel she was entitled to any of it.
Three times that afternoon, Yvonne knocked on the door and wanted to talk. I kept telling her to go away because I didn't want to hear any more from her. The third time, I told her if she bothered me again, I would pick her up and bodily throw her out of the house. She must have believed me because she didn't come back.
The next morning, I showered and dressed, then drove to the attorney's office for my 10:30 meeting. Ms. Ross turned out to be quite a no nonsense lady. She listened to my story, took a look at the list of names in Yvonne's handwriting, and asked me what I wanted to do. I told her I wanted a divorce and I wanted her to get as little of our assets as legally possible. She confirmed that there was little chance of getting anything other than a 50-50 split of our assets. Since we didn't have children, there would be no custody consideration so it should be pretty much cut-and-dried, unless fraud could be proved and she didn't see anything like that. I had to agree. She said she would have the papers prepared for filing by Tuesday and they would be served to Yvonne then too.
