I stared at her. Then she shook her head as if to clear it and answered my question. "It's the pictures. All of them plus the ones that he took of Jim and me; he probably has more copies but he said that he wanted to remind me every day what we've done together. He said that soon I won't need this reminder. I don't know what that meant. Please give me that back."
I had the drive in my hand and closed my fist around it. "I'll give you this back after I make a copy." I told her.
Joan looked worried. More worried than she should have been. "What's wrong don't you trust that'll give it back? Or is there something on this that you don't want me to see?"
Joan was quick "Kevin set up an email account for me. He filled it out with stuff we normally would have left blank. The username and password are on the drive. You'll know everything between him and me if you use that account. I just found out about it today. I don't know when he set it up. Honestly I don't, please don't get angry."
I didn't get angry; I couldn't'. I put the flash drive in my pocket and then I kissed Joan hard on the lips. Her tongue probed the front of mouth as my hands found the same places Kevin had touched just a few hours ago. I had her over the island just as naked as she was for him; just as naked as she had always been for me. In our years together she had been too good to say to me the words she said then. "I'll be his whore. I'll take his seed in me. Ed, I'll do it because he tells me to. I'll do it because you want me to. I'll do it because I like it." That was the first time she confessed her desires to me. It was the first time she ever acknowledged a desire for another man. It was the first time she ever told me about the size of another man's cock. Kevin is twice as wide as any man she had ever fucked and nearly as long as her forearm.
After twenty some years of living together I finally discovered just how little I really knew about my wife. She was a sudden stranger and I took pleasure in fucking her like one. I wanted pleasure and I took it from her loose vagina. We fucked three times. Each time she gladly indulged me. She didn't make her usual complaints about her hair or the temperature of the room. She sucked my cock and swallowed my cum. I came on her face, her ass, in her hair and on her tits. We've lived together for twenty years and I've never ejaculated anywhere but, where God intended; inside her vagina.
That night, when I was done with her and she was sleeping soundly in her sticky mess, I went into my office and made a copy of the drive. I stayed up later than I should have looking over its contents.
Nothing on the drive was encrypted. Inside were a few folders. The first one had the information for the email account. The other two folders were titled with a date which I assumed was the date that the pictures were taken.
Four dozen pictures were in the folder with the current date. It was an illuminating experience to look at each in turn. At first, Joan was nothing more than a well dressed teacher standing in front of a chalkboard. Then, with the opening of a few more pictures, she took on the visage of a model in a magazine layout. Elegant and graceful, with a slight exhibition of her cleavage and trim perfectly shaped legs. The next picture changed my mind. Her pose hadn't changed. Her legs were still planted in the same place. Her hips were still slightly tilted with her ass angled away from the camera. Nothing was different but her smile. It was curled like when she's teasing me. The gleam in her eye was the same as when she was happily the center of attention. Another few pictures through the pack and she was naked and looked like a porn star in a behind-the-scenes pictorial.
I was down to the last two pictures. In the second to the last picture; except for her heels, my wife and the mother of my children was naked bent at the waist over her desk. Her lips had the same curl and her eyes had taken on a starry gaze.
The last picture affirmed my suspicion that Joan was already Kevin's play thing. In it I could see her bare back and naked ass. I couldn't see her face because it was buried in Kevin's jeans. In the picture's foreground, the rippled plain of Kevin's dark abdomen ended in Joan's ruffled hair. Her back and ass extended away from him. She was on her hands and knees, naked in front of Kevin, while she throated his cock.
The other folder had the same progression of poses. In the beginning, Joan was fashionably dressed. She was wearing a different outfit but it was still a skirt with high heels. These pictures established Joan as a respectable teacher. The rest evinced the perversion of that profession. Midway through the fifty or so pictures she was standing naked before her blackboard with a wide almost mischievous grin. There was no denying that she was enjoying herself. The rest of the pictures were like an old fashioned flip book. Each photo showed a single small movement until she was once again standing behind her desk.
Near the end of the set of pictures, Joan was bending over her desk. Her legs were straight and her ass was jutting out invitingly. She was a breeding bitch in heat.
She wasn't alone in the last few pictures. As in the first folder, Joan was on her hands and knees, naked while she throated Kevin's cock. After a couple pictures of her slobbering over his dark, uncircumcised penis the pictures changed abruptly. Kevin's camera must have had programmable shutter because it was no longer shot from his point of view.
Joan was bent over the desk. Her hands were at the sides of her ass pulling her cheeks apart. Joan's eyes were closed and Kevin was standing behind her holding his sizeable cock. It was gleaming from either a coating of saliva she had just slathered all over it or the fucking he had already given her.
Kevin was grinning.
In the next picture Kevin was behind her leaning over Joan's naked body. Joan's mouth was open in a wide circle. His cock must have been buried in her. Her expression definitely wasn't of pain but of long sought and finally captured ecstasy.
The last of the pictures showed Kevin fucking my naked wife on top of her desk. It was obvious from the blackboard and the textbooks that they were in her classroom. He was fucking her doggy style. He had a tangle of her hair in his right fist. His leg and ass muscles were flexed and his face was contorted in a vicious snarl. Joan's face was a mask of unrefined arousal.
A man could occasionally fuck his wife; but mostly he made love to her. Rarely could a husband possess his wife. Kevin owned Joan. Her usage was more climactic to her than anything I had ever seen. I was certain that at the moment the picture was taken, she was climaxing. He used her for his own pleasure and she came; and came hard.
The last image was anticlimactic but was certainly very telling. After seeing Joan naked, sucking and fucking her eighteen year old black student; swallowing his spunk and taking his sperm into her unprotected womb a picture of her and him fully clothed and kissing should have left me flat. But, from that night, it is the one image I remember most. It stokes my ire and feeds my arousal. It was obvious from that picture, she would do anything for him. She kissed him like an ardent lover.
I closed the folder and ejected the flash drive. Instinctively I started to turn the computer off but thought the better of it and instead opened the internet browser. Once I had the proper place to put them, the words came quick and easy. It took me only a couple of extra minutes to send the email via Joan's account. I sat at the desk for a few minutes trying to convince myself that I hadn't done something truly horrible. With an admixture of fear, loathing and arousal I flicked off the computer and went up to our bedroom. Before I climbed into bed I put the flash drive on Joan's dresser
I woke up to Joan's heels clicking down the stairs. The flash drive was gone. I met her at the door to the garage and kissed her goodbye. She smelled sweet and looked more like she was going on a date than going to work teaching High School Math. I bade her have a good time. She flashed me a disarming smile and left.
I stood in the doorway and watched the garage door jerk its way closed. It was like watching my old life close and fall away. Kevin was playing Joan perfectly. Hell, he was playing me perfectly. She couldn't claim to be an unwilling participant any more. She needed something that he gave her. It was more than a sex organ; and greater than an orgasm. With him, she had her woman-ness. With me she had children, responsibility and work. My musing turned to anger as I let my thoughts flow. Yes, and with me, she has a big house a new car and a position in our community.
At that moment my ambivalence burned away and I was glad she was gone. I was glad I sent the email. Kevin was no idiot. Joan was unwittingly playing his game and it was such a game that now it was hers as well. She could have reported him at any time. She could have told him 'no' or even told his step father. But she never did any of those things; instead, she capitulated to his every desire.
Kevin's email was the only address in the inbox. He had sent her several messages. At their heart each was really a set of instructions. There were no responses from Joan; until I sent one.
"Kevin, I love our times together. I'm yours now and for always to do as you wish and when you wish it. You know all of my needs even before I do. I want to please you. I want to make you happy. Please Kevin make me yours."
All Kevin had to do was check his computer or his phone and he'd know his grasp on her was complete. He would know that he could use her as he wished and she would oblige. Hell, more than oblige, she'd relish his mastery.
After that morning, Joan and I never talked directly about Kevin. It just never happened. But, even though she never verbally communicated any of her exploits with the young black man, I still knew all about them all. Each day, usually just before going to bed, I'd pull up her online email account and check it for new entries. Through these emails she confessed her adultery with striking detail. The inbox became a diary of sorts; a repository of her adulterous history with her dominant black student. It was dangerous and certainly self incriminating but it was a conduit between the two of us that was devoid of doubt or judgment. Joan compulsively wrote the emails and I read them. I never responded so I could never reproach her. But more importantly, since I read them, I was no innocent victim and I couldn't claim to be one.
