"clueless Bob" Gets Clued In

Everybody knows Mondays suck.

So it was with no great enthusiasm when I picked up the phone at my place of employment at 8:05 a.m., responding to a page from our receptionist, Jeannie, that a Mrs. Spearman was on line one. I didn't know a Mrs. Spearman, so a call this early in the day was either a complaint or cold call for sales.

"Mr. Ringler, you don't know me, but I am married to the man who is fucking your wife, and I have a proposition for you."

Oh fuck ...

She went on a little further before she realized that I had completely tuned out. I had stopped listening after the magic words "man fucking your wife."

"Mr. Ringler, are you still there?"

"Yes, ma'am ... I'm sorry ... You kind of stunned me there for a second. You did say your husband was fucking my wife, right?"

"I'm sorry to be so blunt about it, Mr. Ringler, but there's no other way to put it. Your wife is having an affair with her boss, who happens to be my husband. I want it to stop, but I also want my revenge, and this is where you come in. I have a little proposition for you, if you're willing to listen."

"Right, Spearman ... her boss. Now I know who you are. We meet every year at the Christmas party ...

"And apparently our spouses meet several times a week for their own party."

"Ok, but this is not the time nor place for this. Can we meet for lunch today?"

We set lunch for noon at Choosey's, kind of a high-end sandwich place about 20 minutes from my office, and for the next few hours I sat at my desk like a barely functioning robot, with the world going past me at about 100 miles per hour.

My wife, Traci, was the light of my life. Short but athletically built with 40DD tits, she was more beautiful at 46 than when I married her at 22. We had raised a beautiful pair of daughters together, one out on her own now and the younger a junior in college a couple of states over. Being empty-nesters again for the last three years was fun, and while our sex life was good while the kids were growing up, with an empty house again it had gotten even better as we didn't have to hold anything back. Not to brag, but let's just say Traci having a screaming orgasm was a regular occurrence, one I took great pride in making happen.

I thought things couldn't get any better ... until today. Talk about your clueless dope.

Mrs. Spearman - Lorraine - was a fine-looking woman of about 40, taller and thinner than Traci with long legs and C-cup boobs. I had met her several times through the years at the various Christmas parties and outings her husband's company had put on in Traci's 14 years there. I was already seated at a booth when she walked in wearing a thin black blouse obviously braless and a thigh-high black leather skirt. Several heads turned her way as she spotted me and made her way to my table. I rose when she approached the table, and didn't sit again until she was seated.

"Ah, a gentleman. I like that," she said with a twinkle in her bright blues eyes.

When we were both seated, she got right down to business. She handed me the file she was carrying, and cautioned me I might want to open that carefully in the restaurant. I took a quick scan and saw Traci - my Traci - engaged in several sexual acts with her husband, apparently in different locations and at different times. I was gone again, but Lorraine brought me back by reaching out and touching my right hand with her left.

"You can look at the photos better when you leave here, and be sure to read the reports of my investigator as well, Bob. I paid good money for that information, and you really need to read it carefully," she said with a deathly serious look on her pretty face.

"The Reader's Digest version is that your wife and my husband have been having an illicit affair for about two years. They've used several locations around the city for their trysts, have gone on several 'business trips' together, and have even used your house and my house for their shenanigans."

"Shenanigans? Who uses words like that?" I thought to myself, but as I looked up at Lorraine, she was starting to cry. I resisted the urge to make a bad joke.

"Arvin and I have been married for 20 years," she continued. "I thought we were going to be married forever. This is absolutely the last thing I ever expected."

"That makes two of us. I thought we were rock solid up until you ruined my day," I said while looking at my hands. "So what do we do now? What is this proposition you want to talk to me about?"

"I know this is shocking to you right now, but I've been dealing with this for about six months now," Lorraine said. "Arvin made the slightest slip-up, and while I didn't think much of it at first, it kept gnawing at me, and when I finally decided to check it out, I found out the whole thing. So I've already gone through the shock, the hurt, the pain, the anger that you will get to in good time. And right now I'm at revenge. I'm mad as hell, and I want that bastard to pay, but not just in alimony. I want my pound of flesh, and I want it bad."

"I'm interested," I nodded.

Apparently Lorraine has a real mean streak, and Arvin really was going to pay. Lorraine wanted me to impregnate her, and she wasn't going to bother telling her husband at all. She figured he'd probably end his affair once he found out his wife was pregnant, and maybe she'd eventually forgive him. But even if he didn't end the affair, she'd just divorce him and take him to the cleaners. Pregnant wives do well in the courts. Either way, she'd always have my baby as her ultimate revenge, because Arvin would have no reason to suspect his sweet, innocent wife of ever doing what she was about to do.

Of course, I'd first have to get tested if I was going to bed Mrs. Spearman, and of course there would be a contract drawn up in which I'd give up all parental rights to the child, and she would never seek anything from me in terms of support.

I told her I needed a week to think this over; to let everything mull around in my mind first. It had already been a long day, and it was only just past noon. She agreed to the week, and when she got up to leave the table, she leaned forward and gave me a short kiss on the lips ... as an incentive? Mmm ... warm, slightly moist lips ... engaging perfume. Can this really be happening?

My mind was racing for the rest of the day, and to be honest, I was pretty useless to my company. I had just found out that the love of my life has been cheating on me for about two years, and for revenge, the gorgeous wife of the guy she's been cheating with wants me to knock her up. I'm not sure I could even make up a scenario this wild for myself had I been trying.

When I got home after work I headed straight for my office and locked the file Lorraine had given me inside a desk drawer. I didn't want that to be hanging around, just in case Traci decided to do a little straightening up for me in my office. I needed to examine those photos on my own time, without fear of Traci knowing I had them. Then I had to read that damned report. But first there was the little matter of my acting ability: could I keep it together in front of Traci without smacking the shit out of her.

I half staggered down the hallway to the kitchen, where Traci was already in the act of preparing supper.

"Hi, hon. Good day?" she inquired in her chipper, upbeat tone.

Traci was moving about the kitchen preparing supper, wearing nothing but one of my old long-sleeve white shirts, unbuttoned to her belly button. Her braless breasts swayed into sight occasionally, and her bright white bikini underwear on her gorgeous ass could be seen through the fabric of the shirt. God, I love that look.

Traci took my lack of answer to mean that I was lost in her outfit, which would have normally been the case. I have been known to be tongue-tied when she wears that.

Because of my "reaction" to her outfit, Traci apparently figured tonight was going to be a big sex night, so at about 9 she joined me on the sofa and immediately started rubbing my crotch. She then stood in front of me and put her jiggling boobs to my face. I have to admit I wondered how many times before had she done that with her lover's cum and/or sweat on them, and I was too naïve to know it. But I figured now was not the time for that reflection, so I started in sucking her big tits, and we were off to the races.

Between my anger and yes, some excitement at the thought of my wife having sex with another man, I was rock hard for about an hour. I got her off for 10 screaming orgasms using my hands and mouth, a pretty normal thing for me, and I even got her to orgasm once on my cock, something she rarely ever does. And then I thought to myself, "You mean this isn't enough for you? You have to have more on the side?"

By the time I came to a shuddering orgasm myself, I was pounding Traci for everything I was worth, and she was greeting me back with equal gusto. Normally, she doesn't go in for pounding as she says she enjoys it lower key and more loving, but this was way more animalistic and, truthfully on my part, way less loving. This was fucking, pure and simple. Of course then I thought to myself, "Maybe this is what she really wants, and is just afraid to tell me after all these years."

Too much thinking. Get out of your own head.

It was a great night of fucking, I had to admit, and when we were done, Traci cuddled into my side and I put my arm around her tightly, and that's how we fell asleep - sticky and sloppy and totally contented. If I hadn't already seen some of those photos, I'd tell you I had a perfect marriage.

We showered together and got ready for work Tuesday morning feeling somewhat like giddy kids from a good sex hangover. Right before I stepped out the door, however, Traci reminded me she had to stay late to finish a small project she had been working on, and that's when the alarm bells went off. They actually should have been going off for two years now, according to Lorraine, but now that I was actually looking for something, it sure was easy to see. But that's OK, because this will give me some time to look at the file.

When I got home that night, I knew I had about an hour before Traci walked in, judging by her usual time frame. The only difference this time was I knew she wasn't working. I unlocked the desk and pulled out the file. First, there were dozens of photos of Traci and Arvin Spearman in every sexual position, in several different locations. Since I had seen a few in the restaurant yesterday, I wasn't quite as shocked as I would have been going into this sight unseen, but I have to admit, the photos still made me queasy. Then I read the report from Lorraine's PI. I was crying silently to myself by this time, but when I heard Traci come in the house from the garage, I quickly put everything back in the desk drawer and dried my eyes. I had totally lost track of the time; it took me about 90 minutes to go through the file.

Not only did I have to dry my eyes, but I also had to calm down. I was pretty mad at that point, but I wasn't ready to give anything away just yet. Traci seemed to be in a really good mood, but I just brushed her cheek with a soft kiss when we met in the kitchen, then went outside to start grilling supper.

Traci was very chatty at the dinner table, not unlike any of the times when she came home after working late, or doing a girls' night out, or whatever. It's almost like she was wired, and showed no sign of guilt or remorse for what she had been doing with Arvin just a short while ago. She did sit across the room from me while we watched TV in the den, and even turned down my patting on the sofa for her to come join me, but otherwise she seemed perfectly normal. She also took a couple of extra minutes in the bathroom before we turned in, and smelled like she had just freshened up her perfume, although she certainly made no moves toward me that indicated she wanted sex. This whole routine was all very familiar, although tonight I really was just seeing it for the first time.

Coincidentally, we showered separately on Wednesday morning, but after she got out of the shower she was much warmer to me and stayed physically closer to me than she had Tuesday evening. Or, it just could have been my overactive imagination. You know sometimes when we find out we're cuckolds how we men just sometimes fall apart emotionally.

I waited until 8:05 before calling Lorraine from my office.

"Get some papers ready for me to sign and let's start thinking of baby names," I announced into the phone when she picked up.

We set up our next meeting for Friday at 3 p.m. in a small restaurant about a town over, with her lawyer to be in attendance as well. In another coincidence, both of our spouses had a conference to attend Friday about an hour away. Hmmm.

Lorraine and her attorney had done a lot of work on this, and at first glance everything looked good. I asked a few questions, her attorney scribbled a few notes, and then he said he'd get back to us within a week. He then shook my hand and took his leave. It was about 4:30, so I figured Lorraine and I could grab supper at a better, more upscale restaurant, but apparently, she had other ideas.

"I know we haven't signed any paperwork yet, but what would you say to getting a jump on things? I've got a room at the Comfort Inn, and Arvin and Traci aren't due in until tonight."

Lorraine's eyes were sparkling, but I noticed her hands were trembling slightly as she put down her wine glass. I got the distinct impression she had never done anything like this before. In truth, neither had I.

"I want you to know, for the record, that I've never cheated on Arvin. Ever. I'm not that sort of a girl. But since he has shown so little regard for me these last two years, I have come to the conclusion that turnabout is more than fair play."

"I've never done anything like this either, and was never planning to" I replied back quietly. "I trusted Traci completely, and she made a fool and a cuckold out of me. So yeah, I'm game for this, too."

Lorraine was a beautiful woman, and looked just as good without her clothes on as she did with them on. It started off awkward between us, at first. We were both working off of our "usual playlists" before realizing that this was anything but usual, and then decided to do something we could call our own.

I started off by using my fingers on Lorraine for about half-dozen mind-blowing orgasms - if her screaming was any indication - then I became the first man to ever tongue her pussy - to another dozen shrieking orgasms. At one point I thought I might actually be hurting her, but when I questioned her between climaxes, she screamed at me to continue, so I assumed I was doing something very right.

After orgasm No. 12, I decided it was my turn, so I moved up on the bed and drove my hard as steel cock into her incredibly wet pussy in one stroke. She sighed and recoiled a bit, then got down to it with me as I fucked her like a man possessed. She was tight and had great gripping muscles, and considering this was the first time I had had sex with anyone other than Traci in 24 years, I was more than a little nuts, so to speak.

We went at it like horny teenagers for about 20 minutes. She got off one final time, on my cock, and when I came, it was probably the strongest orgasm I've had in 10 years. I just about lifted her off the bed with my dick at one point. Wow! So this is what I was missing my being faithful all those years!

After I came and finally went soft, the two of us lay there in the bed in one sweaty, sticky mass. Lorraine looked up at me with a look halfway between sheepish and shy, and I smiled back with probably the same look. We just laid there and cuddled for about 10 minutes, before we both decided we needed to get up and be on our separate ways.

I showered when I got home, not wanting Traci to smell Lorraine on my face and hair. I then changed into some shorts and T-shirt and got into my La-Z-Boy to wait for Traci to get in from her business conference. Only this time, for the first time ever, I knew it wasn't a business conference, and she would be coming home to me with her pussy filled with Arvin's cum, much the way I had filled Arvin's wife's pussy. I knew I was really going to like this revenge thing of Lorraine's.

Although Lorraine had asked me what I intended to do about Traci, I still hadn't formulated my own plan. Obviously staying with the cheating whore was out of the question. The love of my life had ripped my heart out, and while I couldn't just pretend I didn't love her anymore, the pain had seared me good, and I would never feel the same way about her again. But what to do?

In the meantime, there was Lorraine. Usually twice a week, sometimes three times, we would go off and have a tremendous fuck session, usually while our spouses were busy with their own affair. The woman was beautiful and a goddess between the sheets, but I always remembered why we were doing this, because this was a woman I didn't want pissed at me. She said she still loved her husband and wanted him back, but if this was her revenge, holy shit!

After three months, Lorraine had her vengeance. She was pregnant, and it was probably mine since Arvin had a low sperm count, and she hadn't yet gotten pregnant by him after almost 20 years. She said she would take a fetal DNA test as soon as the doctor said she could to confirm it, but with her pregnant we didn't need to continue our activities. I have to admit I was broken-hearted, especially after she admitted to me that I was so much better in bed than her husband.

Now it was time, however, for her to drop the hammer on her husband, and about a week after she told me about the baby, she apparently put the screws to Arvin. We met for lunch at Choosey's the next Friday, when she filled me in on the details. Before that, all I knew was that Traci came home from the office after working late on a Wednesday night and was in one bitch of a mood, so I surmised that the late hours were because Arvin was breaking it off with her, instead of breaking it off in her.

When I got to Choosey's, Lorraine was already there, looking radiant and triumphant. I joined her at the table, and after our waitress had taken our lunch order, Lorraine gave me the details.

When Arvin got home Tuesday night, Lorraine had a small folder on their kitchen table laid out for her philandering dickhead. It was basically most of the stuff she had given me when we first met. She said he looked at the file like a man looking at his last meal - if that last meal was dog shit. The apologies then came by the bucket-load, she said, until she stopped him cold.

"This shit ends right now, or you won't get to see your child more than a couple of weekends a month," Lorraine told me she hit him with. "And the courts love to give a cheated on wife with a child a good deal more than half of the assets."

"Wait - what, what child," Dickhead stammered. Lorraine proceeded to give him the grand announcement that she was pregnant, but it wouldn't matter too much if he never got to see the child.

Arvin was on the defensive so much, he probably never even had a chance to think anything out, let alone ask questions. Lorraine had told me that they still had sex occasionally, but apparently Arvin never even considered the possibility that his innocent wife would be fooling around with someone else while he was having his own affair.

"When?" Dickhead asked, and she told him he would be a father in about seven months - again provided he clean up his act now.

"I promise; no, I vow, we're done," he told her.

They kissed passionately, with Arvin putting both of his hands on her stomach, which as of yet still didn't have a baby bump.

I thanked Lorraine profusely for all the help she had given me these last several months, and what could I say about the wonderful sex and the great companionship we had shared. Perhaps in another lifetime, had we met first ... but I understood her devotion to her husband, even if I didn't quite understand the depth of her revenge.