John Evans had been out of town on business for just over a week and he was supposed to be gone for four more days, but he concluded his business ahead of schedule and decided to head home early to surprise his wife Beth.
It was 11:00 Tuesday morning when John walked through the front door to his house. He had a dozen roses and a bottle of wine in his hands. He was expecting to find Beth either reading a book on the couch or in the kitchen making herself some lunch, but she was not there.
He heard a noise coming from the bedroom down the hallway and assumed that Beth was putting away laundry or something. He crept down the hallway hoping to surprise her, but as he got closer he was the one that was in for a surprise.
Coming from the bedroom were the unmistakable sounds of fucking. The door was cracked open just enough for John to peak into the bedroom. He couldn't see the bed directly, but the mirror on Beth's dresser gave him all the view he needed.
There on the bed was his wife of 4 years getting pounded by John's friend Mark. John stood motionless for a moment as his heart broke. He dropped the roses and nearly dropped the wine, but thought twice about it as he knew that Mark and Beth would hear it. As John's eyes filled with tears his ears filled with something else.
"Oh baby, you love it when I fuck you don't you?" Mark asked.
"Yes, god yes." Beth said.
"That pussy husband of yours can't please a woman like you can he?" Mark asked.
"He's never home long enough, he's always traveling, but he's a great lover, the best I've ever had." Beth said.
"If that's how you feel then maybe I'll just quit and go home." Mark said.
He stopped fucking her.
"No, please don't do that. I don't want you to go, you're a good lover too, it's just different with John. He and I make love, you and I just fuck." Beth said.
"So you want me to keep fucking you?" Mark asked.
"Yes, god yes." Beth said.
"Ask for it." Mark said.
"Please will you keep fucking me?" Beth asked.
"Okay, but I don't want you to talk about him when you're with me anymore." Mark said.
Mark went back to fucking Beth. John had been listening to the entire conversation and now he understood that this was not some simple mistake, this was a long term affair. He grew angry and he had an uncontrollable desire to rush in there and put an end to it.
The problem was that Mark had a good 35 pounds on John and he'd been a boxer so in a fight John wouldn't stand a chance. Then John remembered the shotgun he had in his office.
John crept down the hall to his office; he put the bottle of wine down, picked up the shotgun, then hesitated when he reached for the shells. Which ones should he use? He had the regular shells, but he also had a box of shells that had rubber bullets and a smaller powder charge in them. He'd bought them for target practice. They wouldn't be lethal, but they would let him get his point across.
For a few minutes John agonized about which shells to use. Should he kill them or just scare the hell out of them?
