You Can Love Too Much

I was bleeding like a stuck pig from the cut I had just ripped on my right hand working on my car engine, so I ran from the garage into the downstairs bathroom for a towel and then a washcloth. Then I reached into the medicine cabinet for a Band-Aid, finding the metal box right next to my wife's birth control pills.

After putting two Band-Aids on the cut, I reached back in to put the box away and just happened to glance at the prescription. It was dated over four months ago for 30 pills ... and it was empty. Ah, shit!

At 52 years old, it was unlikely my wife, Traci, needed to worry about taking birth control pills, but since she had been having sex with multiple men for the last 18 months, the last thing I wanted was for her to get pregnant. With our two kids 28 and 25 years old and long since out of the house, I would have thought that was the last thing she would have wanted as well, but apparently, what the fuck do I know?

When she started on this "adventure," first cheating on me without my knowledge and then doing so with my tacit but unhappy agreement, it was with a younger coworker. That gradually morphed into sex with a handful of partners on a regular basis, and some more on an irregular schedule. I never in my wildest dreams would have thought she would it have done it without birth control, but then again I never thought she'd ever step out on me, either. Wrong and wrong.

As it was late Saturday afternoon, I knew exactly where to find Traci. She was upstairs in our main bathroom, getting ready for her evening's fun with Tony, Jack and crew. Tony was the young guy with eight inches of meat who had become Traci's go-to lover, and he usually had several friends in on the action with him. He and Traci were a twice-weekly deal, and had been for about a year now. He was somewhat of a dominant, and he knew how to push Traci's buttons. He had tried to include me in on the deal as Traci's sub, and had her drug me once so he could humiliate me by coming down my throat, but I stopped that shit from happening again by threatening physical harm, and the kid knew I could kick the shit out of him.

I walked into the bathroom and put the pill bottle on the counter in front of Traci. She looked at it and said, "Ooh." Then she looked at it harder and realized what it was, and said "Ooooohhh!" Yeah.

"When were you planning on telling me, when you got knocked up?" I half-yelled at her. "Are you fucking nuts?"

I had seen that "Oh shit, I got caught look" too many times in the last 18 months. I thought we had come to some kind of understanding about her escapades, but apparently we hadn't -- in a big way.

"There's no fucking way on God's green earth I'm raising somebody else's kid! Not happening, now or ever! I'll be gone! Do you fucking understand me?" I screamed.

Even with all the bullshit that's gone on for the last year and a half, I don't think I've screamed -- not just yelled, but actually screamed -- at Traci more than three times in our 31 years of marriage. The terrified look on her face told me she understood what I was saying, and also told me I was too late to stop the sequence of events that was about to play out.

I turned, opened the stool, leaned over, and blew lunch. What else do you do when someone hits you in the stomach with a 300-pound lead pipe?

When I finally composed myself and swallowed some water to help get the taste of puke out of my mouth, I looked at my now crying wife and quietly asked, "How long have you known?"

"I've missed my last two periods," she answered.

Again, ah, shit.

I started to raise my voice and yell again, but thought better of it.

"How could you possibly do this to me, to us? What about our kids? Now what do we do?

"I won't ask you to abort it. Neither of us believes in abortion as the answer to this, and I would never make you choose between me and the baby. That's a choice I have to lose, and that I understand. But I can't raise another man's child. I guess you've made the choice for both of us."

I turned, walked out of the room, then the house, got into my car and drove to the nearest bar. I handed the bartender $50 and my car keys, wrote my address on a napkin, and told him to call me a cab when I hit my limit. I might not have been smart enough to leave my wife when I found out she was cheating on me, but I am smart enough not to drive drunk.

I sat quietly and planned my future with my good buddy Jack Daniels. I knew that I had to be the man I should have been in the first place, but I had to do it right.

I walked in the house at about midnight. Normally, Traci wouldn't be home yet, but apparently she cancelled her evening's fun, because she was sitting up in the kitchen in her robe with a cup of coffee in her hand when I walked in.

"We need to talk," she said, voicing the words no husband ever wants to hear, but at this point I just didn't care.

I reached into the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey. I poured myself a couple of shots and sat down.

"We can work through this," she started. "If we can work through the other stuff, I can't see why we can't do this."

"There's the little matter of me raising someone else's kid, babe. It's bad enough you turned me into a cuckold, and then I let you become a complete slut, but this kid will be a constant reminder to both of us that you truly don't respect me or love me, despite what you say.

"I'll stick around long enough to make sure you and the baby are okay, but then I'm gone. You can tell the kids what you'd like, I will tell them the truth about us and the baby. I'm not trying to be vengeful, but I'm not taking shit from anybody else for the situation you made and then I allowed. I'll accept my fault in this but no more."

I stepped over to her, gave her a kiss on the top of the head, and went upstairs to bed. She didn't follow right away, but when I woke up in the morning, I was curled around her just like normal. I rubbed her stomach a few times, knowing that it was still way too early to be feeling life.

There was little talk of her pregnancy for the next couple of weeks as life got back to normal -- such as it was for us. She had her first OB-GYN appointment at about what she figured was the three-month mark, and like I had done for the other pregnancies, I went with her to the appointment. This was a new doctor from the one we used the first two times because her old doctor had retired a few years ago. This was a 30-ish smallish Asian woman who seemed to be trying to outdo Mr. Rogers in the cheerful department, and her nurse also seemed to have had one too many happy pills.

While the doctor was examining Traci, she tried to make small talk with me, and twice called me "Dad," a not too uncommon practice in most cases. This wasn't, however, most cases, and after the second time she called me Dad, it was time to clear the air.

"Excuse me, Doc, but I am probably not the baby's father, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me Dad. Save that for the son of a bitch who is, when you find out."

The doctor, her nurse, and Traci all looked shocked, then Traci's face got beet red.

"It would have been nice of my wife to have been honest with you ahead of time, but apparently she wasn't. So anyway, when is the earliest we can do a fetal DNA to tell me what I already know?"

The doc stammered a bit before regaining her composure, then told me we could do DNA in about a month. She made the appointment for us right then.

The cutesy, fun appointment turned into a somber exercise after that. Traci stayed red-faced, but I think half of that was from anger, not embarrassment. When we finally got back in the car, she exploded.

"Don't you ever again embarrass me like that!" she screamed at me. "You don't want to be a part of this, fine, but you're not going to ruin it for me!"

"And there it is!" I shot back. "It's always about you. Your fun. Your pleasure. Well, fuck that. I need to know for sure, and if you don't want to tell people the truth, that's on you. But I'm not covering your ass. It's not my kid. You made the choice to become a slut, then you made the choice to get knocked up. Or was it somebody else's choice on becoming pregnant?"

It's tough to be right on a regular basis. Traci got a funny look on her face, then broke eye contact with me. It was her turn to stammer.

"T-t-tony and I kind of thought it would be funny and sexy if I got knocked up. And every time someone cums in me that's all I can think of. It's incredibly hot. And you have to admit, you've always said you think I'm sexy when I'm pregnant."

"With my child. Not someone else's!

"Look, if you want Tony or whoever here with you for these exams and things, I'm good with that. If you want me, I'm good with that, too, but we're not going to pretend it's my baby. The doc now knows, and that should be the last time I have to say anything."

Traci dropped her eyes again. "I want you with me. No pretending," she said.

After a quiet five minutes on the ride home, I looked over at her and asked earnestly, "Do you even have a clue who the father is?"

Traci turned bright red again, and I could see her mind working as she tried to figure on the time frame. She looked and me nervously and replied simply, "No."

I had already done the math on one of my sleepless nights after she told me about the baby. There were at least six possibles that I knew of, and at least six other liasons that I knew about. Assuming half of the extracurriculars, so to speak, were repeats, that meant nine possibilities, assuming she didn't sneak in one or two more that she didn't tell me about or I didn't find out about. Damn. My once conservative, respectable wife had turned into one hell of a slut.

Traci started showing about a month later, so at that point we had to make the announcement. Actually, she had to make the announcement. I didn't talk much about it, ending the conversations as quickly as they started. There was a lot of joking, though, about the two of us having our own grandchildren, and my friends ribbed me pretty good about still being a stud. If that was the case, I'd be the proudest guy around. As is, I felt like shit.

Life didn't change much for us as Traci got further into her pregnancy. She gained about 20 pounds, and like the first two pregnancies, she absolutely glowed with her pregnant belly out front, sort of acting like a shelf for her big boobs, which had morphed from 38DD to about 42GGG. She truly was sexy, and it did nothing to inhibit her active sex life. As for our sex life, we hadn't made love since she told me she was pregnant. I just couldn't face her, and on the rare occasions that she made a move for me, I begged off.

The DNA test showed that I wasn't the father. The doc said it was probably still too early for it to determine who actually was, but it was enough time to show who wasn't -- and that was me. No shock there. The doc did ask my wife the same question I had about if she knew who the father was, and it was a very shame-faced Traci who had to admit she didn't know. She admitted to the doc very quietly that there were about a dozen possibilities. The doc tried to keep it professional, but I saw her shoot her nurse a shocked glance.

Our kids were both shocked at the pregnancy, and we both caught some good-natured grief over their new sibling. Again, I just kept my mouth shut. Jocularity was not my mood.

Traci gained about another 10 pounds over the next few months, and at her seven-month check-up the doctor told that her that she needed to stop having vaginal sex at the eight-month mark for the health of the baby. The doc actually looked embarrassed when she told her she could continue with oral sex as long as it wasn't too physical. I didn't say a word, although the nurse gave me one of those "what can you do" looks, and that's when the rest of my exit strategy came into existence.

I hired my PI back for some extra surveillance work for the final month of Traci's sexcapades, and through a contact of his I was able to obtain a copy of the key to Tony's house. I already had obtained enough of the drug Traci and Tony had used to knock me out when they tried to make me Traci's sub almost a year ago.

When Traci and I had come to our "understanding" after the sub incident, we opened up a little more with each other, and she talked more freely about her exploits if I seemed interested. I know she wasn't telling me everything, but the information came in handy. And once I made my decision, it became easier to accept her screwing around. The heart may want what the heart wants, but it doesn't mend once you've stomped it into submission.

I knew a lot of what went on in Tony's favorite restaurant, where he and his crew often took Traci before their fun Saturday nights, because of my new best friend, bartender Mike. A 20-spot every now and then got me all the info about how many were at the table, and who, and about the not-so-subtle trips to the men's room. Apparently my wife was quite the little hostess, and the Saturday night regulars were well aware of what was going on.

The Saturday night get-togethers were always bigger than those mid-week because everyone had the weekend off, and Traci could stay out half the night -- or the whole night sometimes. Usually it was just the four regular guys -- Tony, Jack, Marcus, and Luke, but sometimes they were joined by others, Mike said, including one big party weekend where there were a dozen guys at the table with Traci. She spent at least two hours in the men's room that night, he said, and I know that was one of the nights she didn't make it home. And when she did finally show up, she was completely disheveled and sexed to the max. She was sore, judging by how she moved, and had the hazy look she gets when she's had a lot of sex.

Mike had told me that the parties had been pretty much been contained to the four regulars for the last month or so, and I was pretty certain that the last one before Traci having to stop vaginal sex would also just be the usual quartet. About a week before the final dance, so to speak, I sat down with Mike and made my pitch for his help with my revenge plan. I gave Mike $100 to spike the last drink of the evening for the guys, and Traci's final water with lemon, with the drug she and Tony had used on me about a year ago. That would give them time to have their drinks and drive to Tony's before the drug took effect and they would go out for a good nap. Mike would call me on my cell when they were headed to Tony's, and I would wait for them to pass out and exact my revenge.

I didn't tell Mike what that revenge would be, because I didn't want him to end up in jail if things went wrong.

Traci looked like an ad for pregnancy sex when she left the house that night, and as I saw her off I told her how sexy looked. She was wearing a somewhat short, flowing black silky dress, without a bra and panties, and her giant boobs were just rocking and rolling with every step she took.

My heart was racing in my chest while waiting for Mike to call. Traci left at about seven, and at about 10 Mike called to tell me the five were heading over to Tony's. Let the games begin!

Tony was an up-and comer in a computer company and at 28 had a nice house in a decent neighborhood. He also had that 8-inch sword that Traci just adored, and a shithead attitude that made it easy for Mike to agree to help me; that and the fact that Tony was cuckolding me and Mike just didn't think that was right. I waited in the dark in my car about two houses down from Tony's place until about 11:30. Then using the key that I had gotten from my PI's contact, I carefully slipped in the front door and went inside.

I had Mike dose everyone stronger than they dosed me, because while they wanted me to wake up and be humiliated, I needed them out cold for my plan. I found Marcus and Luke naked in the living room, one on the sofa and the other in a chair. They looked like they had already had sex. I found Tony and Jack naked and out cold on the bed with a naked Traci in between them; they also looked like they'd gotten off so far this evening. Traci's pussy was oozing cum, confirming my suspicions.

I shoved Tony onto the floor so I could get at Traci. I used a couple of pillows, sat her up unconscious and took out a razor. I then spent the next 30 minutes carefully shaving her head bald of its beautiful long blonde hair.

That act was perhaps the most erotic thing I've ever done in my life, and my dick was absolutely throbbing in my jeans. I took my jeans and underwear off, straddled Tony's face on the floor, stuck my dick in his mouth and had the biggest orgasm of my life. He sputtered in his state of unconsciousness, but I slowly made sure he swallowed most of the load, with the excess spilling out onto his face. I then gathered up as much of Traci's hair as I could and slowly fed it to him, working his jaw and throat muscles so he could swallow that, too.

Eating some hair won't normally harm a person, but making a meal out of an entire head of long hair is not exactly good for the digestion. But I guessed he had about another half hour of unconsciousness before he'd have to worry about those consequences. I left him with a few strands of long blonde hair stuck to the jism that had spilled onto his face.

I also had taken a few cellphone photos of Tony with my dick rammed in his mouth, and just for good measure I took of few of Traci, still propped up on the bed, bald, naked, and very pregnant. Turned out not to be such a bad day for me, anyway.

When I left Tony's I passed my PI, who was instructed to video with his hidden cameras only after I left. I gave him a thumbs up and went home.

When I got home I was pretty charged up, so I sat up and watched a movie before finally going to bed about 1. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I made pretty sure it was going to be cold at Tony's house when everybody woke up. It was sometime around 5 when Traci slid in next to me and pushed her big belly up against my back. I didn't say anything; just went back to sleep. I woke up at about 9 a.m., rolled over and saw Traci staring back at me, her blues eyes and face no longer framed by her long blond hair. Truthfully, bald is not a good look for her. But I had to be cool and act shocked, so I made a shocked look and blurted out, "What the fuck did you guys do? That must have been one hell of a send-off party!"

Under normal circumstances that would have been the exact wrong thing to say as Traci instantly burst into tears, but we left normal circumstances a long time ago. I put my arms around her to comfort her, feeling perhaps just a twinge of remorse, and more so a feeling of renewed excitement as my dick got instantly hard up against her pregnant belly.

"He shaved my hair off and ate it. Tony shaved my hair off and ate it!" Traci sobbed.

"Get out of here!" I answered her back. "What kind of nuts shit were you guys doing?"

"We were just fucking like we always do. I did Marcus and Luke and then Tony and Jack, and then I got tired and shut my eyes and must have fallen asleep or something. When I woke up, the guys were yelling at each other and Tony had cum and my hair on his face, then he started throwing up. Then I realized he had shaved off all my hair!" she sobbed.

"I think Jack came in Tony's mouth, at least I think that's what they were arguing about before Tony started puking, but I was too concerned with my hair being gone to pay too much attention to them. I knew you were going to be real mad."

"Wow. It's not my favorite look for you, I can tell you that, but if you can't tell I think overall with the boobs and the belly I'm definitely turned on. You might have to stay bald for a while until I can get over this," I answered.