This relatively short story is inspired by an article that I read on, you guessed it, the internet. People seem determined to share the most intimate of their personal lives with others on the internet. It does provide a degree of anonymity so that they can tell the story that they feel compelled to spill. This story is a bit of a sad story since it involves what was once a nice family with a good future. Then it was gripped with a need on the part of the wife to experiment to meet her desire to satisfy a fetish that she developed. It led to the end of the family.
I hope that some of you enjoy this story. Like I said, it's based on partial truth but has been embellished to make it a better read. If I have committed the crime of recycling names, too bad.
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Where the heck is that woman? I thought she was getting the kids ready for school today. Shit, the kids aren't up yet, fed, dressed, ready for school and I have to go. "Emma!! Where are you?" No answer. Cripes, she's not here. I went up to her bedroom and sure enough the room was empty. She hadn't come home. Again. Fuck! This shit has to stop.
So, you're asking yourself, 'what's going on?' Where the hell is the mother? Why doesn't the father know where she is? Why did she not come home? That, and lots of other questions, I suppose. I have questions too. Like, 'how the fuck did my life become this?' You see, the answer is not simple and straightforward. It happened over a period of about two years and now my life and our marriage, has become a shit-show. One that I have to quickly get fixed. I have to fix this for the benefit of my daughters. I have twin girls, aged six. They are in Grade 1 at school. They are blond-haired cuties that are my world.
The mother of those twin cuties used to be my world. Used to be. Now, not as much. She has other priorities. She has a boyfriend, now. She still thinks that she's my wife and still calls this house, her home. She spends little time here. Last week she spent two nights here. When she is here she sleeps in another bedroom now. I don't want her in the same bed with me, if I can avoid it. I can't look at her anymore. Not since her belly is almost nine months pregnant. Her boyfriend is the father of the baby she is carrying. She's very proud of that fact.
Emma works as a legal secretary for a large law firm. One of the lawyers at the firm, Gerald Evans, is her boyfriend and the father of the baby that she is carrying. Evans is very successful, makes a shit-ton of money and has a wife and three kids of his own.
Me, I'm John Stewart. I'm 32 years old and I'm a chartered accountant. I do mostly corporate audits and find places where companies can make improvements to how they do business in order to be more profitable. In reality I do a lot of work to find ways for companies to avoid paying taxes. Most companies would rather spend $2 to avoid having to pay the government $1 in taxes. It's work that, to most, is mind numbingly boring, but to my organized mind it's interesting. And I get paid well. Very well. Last year I made just over $150, 000, and I usually get a 20% bonus on top of that.
Emma is also well paid as a legal secretary and pulls in almost $70,000 a year. Her bonus is not as much but not bad all the same.
We live in a nice three bedroom, three bathroom house in the burbs with a small in-ground pool in the backyard. The mortgage is very manageable and will be paid off in about six years. I drive a Subaru Outback station wagon and Emma has a VW Passat that I bought used for her three years ago.
We live, or lived, a good life. That was until about two years ago. Now. Well, how do I describe our life? My life is...different.
My wife is not really my wife anymore. She spends most of her time outside of work at the apartment that her lover owns. She started seeing Evans about two years ago. At first it was spending extra hours at work, getting home late in the day. Then it was evening work. Then it was weekend work. Then it was trips away to meet 'clients.' Then it got obvious.
Then she just went out and told me not to wait up. Then she started spending all night out.
I knew a long time ago that she was having an affair with Evans. She hid it poorly.
I went to a divorce lawyer for some advice. The advice I got wasn't really advice. It was more a warning. That I would get royally screwed over by the courts. That Emma would likely get custody of the girls, and because of that the house. I would pay big to support everyone for many years to come. That and Emma would get to fuck around as much as she wanted to. I was a sucker, a chump. She screws around, and I pay for it. How fair is that? The courts don't give a fuck about fairness. They follow the law which says to divide things 50-50 unless there are kids and then give the bulk of all family assets to the custodial parent. Just because the custodial parent was the one that caused the marriage breakdown matters not one bit. Judges want to see cases get rubber-stamped and on to the next boring case.
So, I asked my lawyer, 'how do I come out of this on top?' Well, seems that there was no coming out of it on top. There was a only coming out of it mildly singed. Slightly burned as it were. Fuck! She was clear that the best plan was to do nothing and pretend that my loving wife was a loving wife. Right, like I was going to do that.
When I left the lawyers office I was a bit numb. What the fuck am I going to do? So, I went back to work and sat in my office for the rest of the day, in a daze. I went home that night to be greeted by Emma, who was making dinner, as if everything in her world was just fine. As if she was her former loving mother and wife self. I was greeted at the door with a kiss on the lips and the smell of food in the kitchen. The girls were working on a puzzle on the dining room table. Emma actually poured me a glass of wine and handed it to me. What the fuck!
This had to be a communist plot on her part. Sure enough. After supper and when the girls were in bed she said "Honey, we need to have a talk."
Seems that the talk was to tell me that she was pregnant by her lover, Evans. She was in love with him and was going to have his baby. "Are you leaving me?" I said, with a hopeful, but cautious note.
"Of course not Honey, I'm your wife. I love you very much. We have a family, and now it's going to get bigger."
Shit. I was really hoping that the cheating skank was going to move out and go live with lover-boy.
"So, Just how do you propose to deal with this baby?"
"Well, the same as how we dealt with when I was pregnant with the girls, of course." The look on her face said that she thought my question odd.
I was still very mystified, "Hmm, so, let me get this straight. You're pregnant by another man and plan to have his baby and figure that this child will happily become part of our family? Have I got that right so far?"
"Well of course, Honey. Why wouldn't this child be part of our family?"
How stupid did this woman think I was? Clearly, she figured that I was going to roll over and accept this child as my own. Well, that wasn't gonna happen. No fucking way.
"Jeepers, I guess it might have something to do with your long term affair with lover-boy Evans. It might have something to do with the fact that you are never here with your family. It might have something to do with the fact that you spend three nights a week and almost every weekend with your lover. It might have something to do with the fact that you have virtually ignored your daughters for the last year as you spend your nights fucking Evans. It might have something to do with the fact that you and I have not had a normal marriage for almost two years!" I was shouting at this point and my face was red.
"Honey, calm down. Just because I haven't let you in my vagina since Gerald claimed me, remember that you have complete access to my mouth and ass any time and as much as you want."
While that was true and I made a point of having Emma suck my cock whenever she was here and I would fuck her ass multiple times a night when she was here, well that was small reimbursement for the fact that her pussy was off limits. The privilege of fucking her pussy was reserved for Evans. Emma said that since falling in love with him she felt that is was only right that he have the right of her pussy. I had that right for six years and so she made the decision to restrict me, her husband, from having vaginal sex with her and limit me to fucking her ass. And so I did. I fucked her ass several times a night and I did it as roughly as I could. After a night of anal sex she often had to wear a pad in her underwear since her anus wouldn't completely close.
After fucking her ass for a couple of hours I would take her to the shower and wash off and then have her take my cock in her mouth and suck me again to orgasm. I always came in her mouth and held her head so that her nose was touching my pelvic bone. I would shoot my load down her throat.
So Evans got her love and her pussy. I got the leftovers and her ass.
I also had two wonderful children, and I fully planned to keep them.
So, over the next seven months, Emma spent the majority of her time at Evans' apartment. She would come home from time to time and it was then that I would exact what little revenge I could. I had her suck me so I could come in her mouth and I fucked her ass.
Emma wanted me to go with her to her pre-natal appointments. I refused. Gerald Evans was the father, he could go with her. Somehow in her confused, fucked-up mind, Emma thought that I was going to capitulate and raise this child as my own. So, I should just go along with her plan and do my fatherly duty. Nope.
Things got really bad when Emma forgot all about her daughter's birthday. In her cock-crazed mind she forgot everything that I figured was important to her as a mother. I tried to remind her of the girls birthday and even get her to commit to helping out with the party, but it didn't matter. Emma's lack of concern or care for her family was the deciding factor that frosted my butt. I wanted rid of the bitch and I wanted rid of her as soon as possible. The parents of the kids at the birthday party were quietly wondering where Emma was and I got a few questions from a couple of the other mothers. They made it very clear that they figured that it was highly unusual for a mother to miss her daughters birthday party unless some serious shit was going down. I bit my tongue and made lame excuses for her.
Emma had her baby. I went to the hospital with her that day, only because her water broke when she was here at the house. The hospital delivery room staff were very surprised when the baby came out and I could see the look on their faces as they got the baby situated, cleaned up and wrapped up. The doctor looked at me with somewhat wide eyes and the two nurses were giving furtive glances towards Emma.
Seems that the doctor and the nurses found it amusing that a biracial baby was born to two very white parents. You see, the father of the baby, Gerald Evans is black. Now that's not to sound racist. But it's a quick lesson in marital fidelity. It is easy to see that the mother has been fucking around and the husband is not the baby's father. Go figure.
Once Emma and her baby were moved into a hospital room, I left. I had to go home and see my girls and to tell them that they had a half-brother. The tricky part was to tell them that the daddy of their brother was not me. And would it matter at all to them? I also made a plan to make sure that Gerald Evans' wife was made aware that her husband was a new father, and that her children had a new brother. That was going to be fun.
Before leaving the hospital I made a point of filling out the information for the child's Birth Certificate. I listed Emma as the mother and Gerald Evans as the father. The nurse took the form from me and looked at it. She thanked me and as I was leaving she called after me, "Mr Evans, Mr Evans!" I stopped and turned to her, "Sorry, I'm not Mr. Evans. My name is John Stewart. If you need information about Mr. Evans you should ask Emma." I turned and walked away. The look on her face was priceless.
After getting home I called Evans and told him the good news. He was a father. I also asked him where he wanted me to deliver all of Emma's clothing and other things. There was dead silence on the end of the phone.
