It started with an anonymous note:
'Frank, Dan has been seen with your wife. Check it out.'
That was all it said. Did I need any more? Proof of my own, sure.
I work for a large corporate retail conglomerate. I'm VP of Distribution. Dan works in the same company as a regional manager who happens to be based out of the same corporate headquarters for the local chain. He's a boss of smaller bosses, but he wasn't my boss. Dan is a hot-headed Mexican with a lot of piss and vinegar on an upwardly mobile track of well-earned success. We both answer to the VP and Pres, so we are technically equals. However, Dan desires the more glamorous position of corporate headquarter staff, and he'll get it, too. He's that capable.
Debbie is my wife. She's totally unlike Dan's wife (Cindy) and not what I would consider as a target for an extramarital affair. Debbie is considered full-figured. She's busty, due to her weight, hippy and on the thick side but muscular, like a dyke softball player. She's frizzy blonde with brown eyes. Most guys would consider her too fat to look at. Just being honest. Despite her full figure, she's not ugly.
Cindy, on the other hand, is a waif. When God threw together her parts, He basically rolled some bones in blood, got some flesh to stick to them and threw her into the world (to quote an interesting Pearl Jam lyric). Thin as she was, she couldn't be a model, though. Her boobs were small, like a-cup size and she was short. About the same color blonde hair as Debbie with sparkling blue eyes. Much cuter than Debbie.
I know all this because I met her in church. Yes, the bastard Dan and his cute wife are members of our church. We've all had dinner together with another corporate couple and sometimes at church functions.
I really don't want to tell you some story about how turned on I got over my wife rutting with some hot-shot man, because I didn't. Neither did I rush out and beat Dan so that his nose was broken, nor did I rush out and beat Debbie so that her mother wouldn't recognize her face. That's not to say I can't use violence to get a point across, but I wanted to get the point across in a way that wouldn't disappear over time - like a bruise. Personally, violence in return for cheating doesn't equate with me and I don't agree with those sick people who think cheating justifies all kinds of abusive violence, including murder. Fuck them. Maybe it's my church background.
However, I don't believe my pastor would approve of the steps I took to exact my revenge, either. Well, fuck him, too.
My proof was looking at her credit card receipts. There were some unusual ones that couldn't be explained away. Purchases at men's stores that I could not place. I hadn't received any gifts from her lately, but someone had. Also, the most damning of all, two charges to the Three Oaks Motel. I knew that one; it was close to the office.
A lot of pacing went into the development of my strategy. My plan was to become closer to Dan at the office. I engaged him in a lot of chatter to see if I could compile enough details to make my move. The cocksucker played it real cool; I wouldn't have suspected anything. His eyes didn't twinkle knowingly around me, he didn't strut around me like a proud rooster, and he didn't make any kind of comment about my wife, at all. When I told him my wife really liked him and suggested we should get the families together, he didn't bat an eyelash. That told me he was happy screwing my wife and was going to keep it quiet so that he could keep on ramming his dick into her.
Bastard.
A few things fell into place for me, about enough that I thought I had a shot at doing something. First, Dan mentioned that he was trying to finish putting up his new kitchen cabinets before next week. Second, next week the company was sending him on a two-week long training course in Nevada. Third, our pastor spoke recently of being neighbors to each other and that the men should be willing at all times to help our neighbor's wives accomplish menial tasks. It was part of a sacrifice message that got quite a few of us men to grin secretly to each other over the implications to a dirty mind. Yes, our protestant denomination issued a nation-wide decree on that about fifteen years ago. We laugh every time it comes up in a message.
I waited with expectation as the end of the week approached. I asked Dan if he was going to let Cindy put shelf paper in the cabinets he was almost finished installing. He waved a hand at me like he was more concerned with getting the shelves done than papering them. Good. Friday, I wondered if Debbie would be so bold... but it didn't happen Friday.
On Sunday morning she took a call.
"Frank, dear?" She called with a worried voice.
"Yup," I answered from the utility room workbench. I was fiddling with a hinge and not really doing anything. Just waiting.
"My Aunt Laura went in for emergency hand surgery. She needs me to come help her for a couple weeks and I told her I'd come."
"Oh, is it serious?"
"I think she said staph infection."
"Ouch." I fiddled with the hinge some more, elated.
"Do you think you can hold everything together here without me for a couple weeks?"
Ha. She picks an aunt we don't ever see, and the recovery just happens to be two weeks. Yeah, right. She was heading to Nevada, guaranteed. "Sure, honey. Don't bother about me."
"Oh, thank you." She smiled.
You're welcome, dear, I thought to myself. Just try to remember to come home after you've had two weeks of constant cock. "Just be careful on the drive."
She gave me a kiss and went to pack.
I followed her after a few minutes. When I heard her go into the bathroom and shut the door, I checked out her suitcase. I'm glad she wasn't in the room or she might have figured out that I knew things. Her suitcase was full of her most revealing clothes. What would she need crotchless panties for at Aunt Laura's?
Monday I called in sick. I hit the local DIY center and picked up a mess of shelf paper. I knew Cindy liked pink, so I picked out some with pink roses. I knocked on her door at a little after nine in the morning. Cindy answered wearing what looked like her housework clothes. She had on a white blouse that was rolled up and knotted just below her small boobs. Nice fitting khaki shorts with loose leg cuffs completed it, and she had her blonde hair back in a ponytail.
"Frank!" She smiled.
"Hi! Dan wanted to surprise you with some paper and asked for me to help out since he had the course to attend." I smiled and shrugged.
"Oh, well..." She looked down at herself and back into the house.
"You know Dan; when he wants something done, it better be now." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, I'm here to help you in the name of neighborly sacrifice and all that."
"Oh, well, okay. Yes, I know Dan. Don't want to disappoint him." She mocked severity, but I knew she was a little afraid of him and his hot head.
This was too easy. So far.
We had coffee first and I made certain that she noticed me smiling at her. I paid her several compliments and mimicked her posture. That was an old hypnosis/body language trick that triggered sympathy in another person's subconscious. When I got to compliments about her looks, she blushed. But I made sure not to overdo it.
We began the project and worked at it until lunch when we took a break. I offered to go grab us something and she agreed. On the way back with some deli sandwiches, I stopped by and picked up some cider at the liquor store. Ever had alcoholic cider? It's good and light enough to have several before you realize you're addicted to the taste.
She asked about the cider and I told her it was an old world product that was barely alcoholic. She tried it and liked it. I lifted my bottle in an obvious fashion each time and Dan's little twenty-eight year old wife fell for it, matching me drink for drink. I made sure to finish the bottle before I finished the sandwich so that I could open us another. She didn't eat all her meal but she did have a second bottle.
That's all it would take, but I would make sure we drank another during the papering.
After the third bottle, and while she was up on a chair to spread some paper on the top shelf, I saw her lose her balance. She wouldn't have fallen, but I steadied her anyway by placing my hands on her thighs, right below the hem of the shorts. I held my hands there to make sure she was steady.
"Hey, you be careful there, Cindy," I said to keep her mind off my hands that were still on her legs. I gave them a light squeeze and a quick rub.
"Uhh, I think I'm a little dizzy, and my back is sore."
"Oh dear, I'm sorry." I backed up. "Come down from there."
She turned and looked down, but I stepped forward to block her. I reached my hands to her waist and helped her down. I set her down very close to me and looked into her eyes for a few seconds.
"I know just the thing for that. Turn around."
She blinked but turned.
