My lawyer picked up the remote and punched stop. The VCR obeyed and the screen went bright blue.
"Well, I guess I've seen enough," she said. "You have enough here to get whatever settlement you want. Do you know what it is you want out of the divorce?"
I noticed that her ears were red and she avoided eye contact as she asked me the question.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do," I said.
"Then let's draw up the preliminary papers and get going with this. It should be cut and dried." My lawyer, Susan Deland, was always very professional. I had known her for years through my own work, using her from time to time whenever legal advice or assistance was needed. I had hesitated to call upon her, not wanting to make this situation any more painful than it had to be. Susan knew my wife through our social contact and had played softball with her for a couple of years before they both stopped for different reasons. My decision to use her had been twofold. First, she had handled most of my legal affairs and I trusted her, and secondly, she was a woman. For some reason I figured that her being a woman would help me balance this action and handle it in a way that was sensitive to both sides. That may sound stupid but it was how I was thinking.
Before I tell how it all finished, let me fill you in on what had taken place between the time I saw the video and my visit with the lawyer.
When my wife arrived home from her trip I tried to act as normal as possible. I had decided to let my emotions settle before I made any decisions about how to handle the situation I was in. Yeah, I know that many of you macho types would've been waiting for her at the door with her stuff all packed up, told her off in a way that would have made her cry, then tossed her out on her cheating ass. Believe me, I pictured that in my head over and over, desiring the feelings of calling her down and ripping into her as she ripped into me by her actions. It was tempting. Very. But, as much as I wanted to make a scene and show her how tough I was, I finally decided on a course of action that better suited my own personality.
When she arrived home I made sure I got a good look at her pussy. I did this by telling her how much I missed her and that I had drawn her a hot bath to soak away her sore muscles. She tried to resist, to make some excuse why she didn't want to get in the tub, but there was no good excuse. When I began to undress with her I saw her face redden a bit. She hadn't thought that I was going to bathe with her. There was a bit of concern in her eyes as we both got naked. As was our practice whenever we bathed together, we got into the tub and faced each other. I smiled at her and let my eyes drop to her pussy as she stepped into the tub, making sure she saw where I was looking. Her face didn't get as red as her pussy lips but it got close. I didn't let on much but I'm sure she saw some strangeness in my stare. When we were both in the tub she quickly began to slip her foot between my legs, as she knew I liked, rubbing my cock and balls wit her toes. I let my cock get hard and the look of worry seemed to leave her face.
No, I didn't fuck her, though she tried to give me a blowjob. I told her I knew she was tired and that we'd have plenty of time for sex after she had rested.
Listen, I wanted to make her suck my cock. I wanted to hold her head and ram my cock down her throat. I had that kind of angry passion in me but I resisted. You may not have, but I did. And I felt better for it.
I didn't fuck her then and I didn't fuck her the next day or the next. She waited for me to make the overtures, but I didn't. This wasn't entirely out of character for me, for us. We often did this same thing for whatever reasons people do such things. So, it wasn't as if she would automatically believe that something was wrong. After almost a week I did fuck her. It was in our usual way with both of us displaying enough passion to make the other cum. To be honest, I didn't have any trouble getting and staying hard, as I thought I might. There was a point at which I felt the anger rising as I fucked her, pushing me to slap her as hard as I could, but I found a way to let that passion push me over the edge into a very powerful orgasm. It was one of the strongest I had ever had. And yeah, she noticed but was smart enough not to ask where the intensity had come from.
