Life as I knew it ended about six months ago, only I was too stupid to see it at that time.
I had just discovered my wife, Traci, was cheating on me with a younger co-worker of hers, after hinting (now I see it!) about wanting to have sex with him for a couple of months.
I was devastated -- gut-punched -- and disoriented when the PI I hired confirmed what I suspected. My wife of 30 years was the love of my life, and now, for some reason, decided that after all these years she needed sex from somebody else in addition to me. What the fuck?
Like most guys who are happily married, I trusted my wife completely. She worked less hours than me, and so had free time on her hands occasionally to run errands, or take in a movie, and usually, without provocation, would account for those times in recounting her days to me when I got home in the evenings. I started to get a funny feeling when she stopped telling me about her days, especially when there seemed to be some times that she seemed to be have holes in her days. I probably let the feeling linger a little longer than I should, though, but I trusted her totally.
It was completely by accident that I caught a whiff of aftershave on her hair and her blouse. I had come in a little earlier than usual, and I snuck up behind her in the kitchen as she was putting her stuff down on the kitchen table. I gave her a strong, quick hug, with my face in her hair, and that's when it hit me. That wasn't my aftershave.
I started keeping closer tabs on her work schedule, and I paid particular attention when she said she was going to be running some errands after work. I actually took off from work a couple of times, rented a car and hung around in her office's parking lot before following her. The third time I did this, she went into a small restaurant bar on the north side of the city, went up to the bar and was soon joined by a young man who looked to be about 25. It was about 3 in the afternoon, and this certainly didn't look like a work meeting, especially since my wife doesn't have a job that requires her to leave her building for meetings.
I immediately drove home, got on the Internet and looked up private investigators in the area. Spoke to the first one I called, gave him the particulars, and then poured myself a stiff drink of Canadian whisky.
When she walked in the door a little after 6, she said she was surprised to see me home from work so early, but she didn't seem bothered at all that I was there. She did do a quick scan of her clothes, though, before moving forward to give me a kiss. I made sure I got a hug as well, and noted again the aftershave on her hair was not mine ... and was that a hint of cum I was tasting on her breath? (Never having tasted it before, but from reading descriptions ...)
As a big fan of Literotica, I've noted that the writers are partial to all the guys pounding their women during sex, and all the guys can last for at least an hour, and every woman always cums during intercourse and has bite marks and hickeys from the sex. I know that most of this is absolute bullshit, but if such were the case, it probably would have been much easier to spot the signs of fucking around.
As a big fan, I've always been partial to a good revenge story, where the cuckolded husband goes scorched-earth on the unfaithful bitch. I always figured that would be the way I'd go if something like that were to happen to me. In reality, however, when the PI confirmed what I'd already suspected, I almost immediately threw out the scorched-earth scenario. I LOVED the woman. While I was furious over what she did, I didn't want to lose her. I had to convince her to stay with me and drop this little bastard.