They Eyes Have It.

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Copyright © 2020 - This is an original work by Kalimaxos and is protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and any submission to any other site has not been authorized by the Author.

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New York City -- in five minutes

We were walking down the street, my wife of twenty hears and I. We had the perfect marriage. Our twins were both in college and we were filthy rich from my tech startup company. We rarely walked as we took limos and helicopters everywhere. It is what wealthy beautiful people like us do. But that day we were in New York to see a play and were walking down Seventh Avenue.

I just happened to be looking in the reflection of a store and saw it. My wife looked at another man. Just then, I knew she was cheating on me. How could she? Had I not given her everything in life? That is what you get for marrying an ex-cheerleader daughter of a preacher. Conservative woman one day, slut the next. How had I missed it?

I took my cell phone out and before she noticed I made a video of her looking at men as they passed on the street. So many men, of all shapes, sizes, ages. White men, dark men, red-haired men, black men, and finally I saw her look at an ...oriental man.

Being Christian, white, ex. Delta Force, the racist in me came up. How could she? She knows I hate Chinese food.

But I kept my cool.

When she went to a store to use the ladies' room, I called my lawyer. He already had divorce papers drawn up for us just in case she cheated on me.

"Jim, put operation CHEATING SLUT in play," I said. "I'm sending you a video."

"I'm sorry Jack," my lawyer replied. "We'll get her served by the time you are at your hotel."

Before she got out, I sent the video to all her friends and family with a header of "look what my slut wife does when standing right next to me in a crowd." It hurt me to do it, for a second. But she brought it on herself.

Then I called my financial manager and had him freeze her credit cards and bank account I had set up for her. I called a moving company and moved all her things from our estate in Long Island to storage. I gave her car given to a charity to be sold at auction.

She came out of the store holding her cell phone; her face was ashen.

"Jack, it's not what it looked like," she said. What else would the cheating slut say?

"Not a chance you harlot!" I replied harshly.

"Give me another chance," she begged.

"Piss off," I said as I waved her off. "This is the last time you look at men in a crowd. It was not even just one. You looked at all of them!"

"Jack, I thought you liked watching me look at other men. I was trying to make you happy."

"It was a fantasy, Felicia. How could you?"

"I can't help it, Jack, they are all around us."

"Bad excuse Felicia," I said. "We are through."

"Nooo!" she cried.

"Goodbye Felicia," I said waving her off.

My security stepped in and separated us.

The last thing I heard from her was screaming. I cried then like a baby because she had been the love of my life. That was the reason I made sure I ruined her life in minutes after I found out her infidelity. Looking at men! How could she?

Then I got a call. It was my father in law.

"Jack, what's this stuff you sent me?"

"Proof that your daughter is a no-good slut, Garry. It is not your fault. It is your slut of a wife; she taught your daughter."

"I know Jack. I should have divorced Jezebel years ago. She taught Felicia to be a slut."

"They always do Gerry. And they always have a girlfriend that enables them and encourages them."

"You know about Marry Rottencrotch then?"

"Yes. My investigators have seen them staring at men together last week. And Felicia's mother was with them."

"I need the name of your lawyer Jack. I wish I had your courage, but I'm inclined to forgive Jezebel."

I hung up on that looser father-in-law of mine. His fault for raising a hussy.

My phone rang then. I noticed it was my hot neighbor, Betty Boop with the big tits. She was younger than my wife and always stared at me. Of course, she was single and simply perfect.

"Jack are you free yet?"

"I'll be divorced by the end of the day. The judge is in my pocket since I'm so rich."

"Jack, my pussy is wet for you... when can I see you?"

'I'll send my helicopter for you Betty," I replied. "Be prepared to have my children as soon as we get married tomorrow."

"Jack, I knew it. I'm ovulating as we speak."

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Felicia fought the divorce. But she surrendered and signed the papers. The proof was overwhelming. She now works at a convenience store selling gas and coffee. I hear she still looks at men as they enter the store. I guess bad habits die hard.

Our kids took my side of it from the start. They hate their man-staring mother. And so... they... should. I hope my daughter never tries it when she gets married. I would have to disown her.

More men should be like me instead of being like those pussies who let their women stare at other men.

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Time passed and I got over Felicia. Good riddance. I had Betty now. Younger, slimmer and bigger boobs. We did everything together.

We rode bikes.

We ran in the park.

Trips to Europe.

We even had an open marriage. She would date men I picked for her and come home to tell me the details. I was especially turned on getting sloppy seconds on her cum filled pussy and ass.

One month I sold her to an Arab oil sheik to be his slave for weeks. He and his entire tribe enjoyed her like a camel in the open desert.

I had her pull trains in hotels with big black basketball and football players. Even the only black hockey player in the NHL. But she had her limits. No clowns from the circus and carnies. She said they have small fingers or something; I gave in to her.

My kids were two different races. I loved it. She was the perfect wife.

The president once saw her at a party. I made sure she graced his bed that night. The next day defense contracts started to come in. I had to go out and buy a defense-related industry just to keep up with orders.

Felicia could have had this life had she been true to me. In fact, she used to. I let her screw baseball players and actors. Well, not so many of the later as most are not into women. But you get the picture.

Unlike Felicia, Betty was true to me. She never looked up at the men she was with. No eye contact!

I mean it is one thing for your wife to struggle swallowing an uncut eleven-inch meat pipe from Namibia. But the last thing you want is for her to... look up into Jodie's eyes and blink.

Some people think I am strange. But hey... I am that kind of guy.

I have rules.