Show me a man who hasn't wondered how he'd react if he walked in on his wife fucking another man, and I'll show you a liar.
I can tell you this. You're never prepared for it.
I came home from work that day at my usual time, five PM, just like clockwork. I get off at the store I manage at four forty-five, and it takes fifteen minutes to drive home, so it wasn't like Simone wasn't expecting me. That was my first thought when I heard the sounds coming from our bedroom: This was deliberate. She wanted me to catch her. That sent a wave of panic and hurt through me that almost knocked me down. And anger, too. I was in a rage. I wanted to kill somebody.
But there was something else, when I walked in and actually saw them. It's hard to describe the feeling- but shock, combined with a wave of raw sexual energy. I was turned on. I could feel my cock getting hard, and hated myself for it!
My wife's legs were in the air, and she was taking pile driver thrusts from a black man's enormous cock with cries of sheer delight. She had never looked lovelier... and Simone is gorgeous, with dark hair and eyes, a slender yet firm body, small perfect breasts. She was in absolute ecstasy. I felt like I was having a heart attack.
"Simone," I said in a choked voice. "Really?"
Her eyes met mine, and there was elation in them, mixed with pity.
"Jim," she said softly. "Let us finish. Then we'll talk."
"The fuck!" I yelled, and roughly pulled the big black dude off her, He came up with fists ready and hate in his eyes, a bad move on his part. I'd been boxing since high school. I fought semi-pro for a while. The other man probably weighed two-fifty, while I was in the light-heavy class, but it didn't matter, because I knew how to hit and he didn't. He took a wild swing and I slammed him in the jaw, pulling the punch a little because I didn't want to go to jail for killing him or putting him in a wheelchair. It was hard enough. He said "Oof!" as blood flew from his mouth, and he staggered back, trying not to go down, unsuccessfully. He was unconscious for a moment, then adrenalin-laced fear took over and he grabbed his clothes and ran from the room and out of the house, naked.
"Was that necessary?" Simone asked.
"What the fuck!" I yelled. "Necessary?"
"Look at yourself," she said. "You've got a hard-on."
It was true. My cock was a baseball bat.
I watched as she put on her clothes, walked to the family room, and poured us both a drink, Jim Beam on the rocks. I had known my wife since school. She was by far the prettiest girl at Lincoln High, and every boy there who wasn't gay tried to get in her pants. Not many succeeded. She was choosy. I was one who did, and according to her, the last one. I was pretty sure I didn't have the biggest cock at Lincoln, although I may have been in the top five or so. Seven and a half inches isn't bad. Simone loved it. The first time we fucked she wanted to go steady. There was no one for her but me. I went to work right after high school, skipping college, because Simone couldn't wait to be married. I worked at various supermarkets and clothing stores until I finally rose to management of the biggest furniture store in town. We married at eighteen; now at thirty we had 12 years together. No children; we just weren't ready.
We were sweethearts. Sex never got stale; we kept inventing new ways to do it, new games to play. So catching Simone in bed with a man, to say the least, came as a huge surprise.
"I don't get it," I said, taking the drink she offered, and downing it in one gulp. She went to the bar to make me another. "I thought you loved me."
"I adore you, Jim."
"She said with that just-fucked glow." I was shaking.
