Unlucky In Love 2

This is the first in a trilogy exploring unfaithful wives. Sorry that sounds really pretentious! Not much sex in this.

*

I opened the bedroom door and -- well you all know the formula; husband comes home unexpectedly, catches unfaithful wife with a lover; yadda, yadda, yadda...

So what makes my story different from all the others? (I'm the husband by the way -- Stuart Dubois, pleased to meet you).

Maybe I'll tell you the ending; we are still together, we ended up living in a shithole little house in a terrible suburb and I could not be happier! People are getting used to the fact that I keep stopping and laughing to myself. You see -- this is a happy story.

Maybe I should set the scene: 'the husband was a: white male, 6ft 2in, muscular build and in possession of an extra-large penis'; I wish! Truth be told I was just an average 55-year-old guy: kind of short, kind of tubby and very bald. I'd known Linda forever. We were in the same biology class in high school, started dating, fell in love, and - barring a couple of minor hiccups -- we had been inseparable since. She was never going to be a supermodel, pear-shaped rather than hourglass. But, there was something about her; a flame behind her beautiful green eyes, a goddess who had disguised herself in order to visit the mortals.

It came as a (not unpleasant) surprise when pregnancy turned her B cups into D cups. By the time three kids had been weaned, her figure had transitioned from pear shape to apple shape, and her pert little B cups were E cup torpedoes. Not that I got to see them much; sex was pretty well birthdays and anniversaries (and she forgot our last anniversary).

I think that our sex life had deteriorated into occasional lovemaking. I was self-conscious of my weight and desperate not to squash her or hurt her in any way. She just saw sex as a bit of an inconvenience that got in the way of a good night's sleep. Neither the lack of sex nor dumpy figure changed the way I felt about her; she was still my beautiful goddess and I loved her with all my heart.

So -- I opened the bedroom door and... Oh right, I've still not set the scene.

We lived in a quiet, leafy suburb in Perth, Australia; I got my engineering degree and for the previous twelve years had worked as a project manager, putting air con into high-rises. Linda qualified as a nurse, her inane nurturing and empathy made her stand out and, by the time this story really gets started, she had been a Nurse Trainer for about four years.

OK to start the story now?

So I came home in the middle of the day -- I can't remember why. There's a strange car in the drive so I parked on the road. I know, I know -- cliché right? 'alarm bells started to ring', that sort of thing. But that never entered my mind -- I just thought 'oh Linda's got visitors', hardly an unusual occurrence.

I normally enter through the kitchen door from the garage, but I'd left the garage door zapper in my car. Since I didn't have the key to the front security door, I had to go round the house to the laundry. I could not see Linda or the visitor anywhere, I did not want to call out in case I disturbed her, (laugh), so I wandered around looking in all the rooms. I finally ended up outside our bedroom door; I could hear her voice. I must emphasise that at

no point

did I

ever

consider the possibility that my dumpy, matronly wife of 34 years, would cheat on me.

So -- I opened the bedroom door and...

It took me a while to make sense of the scene. Linda was sitting up in bed wearing nothing but her best "sexy nighty"; standing by the bed facing me was a kid of about 17-18 -- naked. He looked tall, fit and young -- so young -- younger than our youngest son, Pete.

"OH MY GOD!" screamed Linda (I know - hardly original), hastily pulling a sheet over herself

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"IT'S MY FUCKING HOUSE -- WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY WIFE?" my turn to be unoriginal.

"It's not what it looks like," seriously Linda?

"YOU BASTARD, YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING! I WAS ABOUT TO FUCK HER!"

I stood there stunned, trying to process the last statement, suddenly Donny (they told me his name at the station) ran at me, fists flailing. I blocked the punch easily and kicked him in the balls. Sorry, should have mentioned, I've got a Blackbelt in Karate. Down he went, on his knees clutching his balls. The bright thing would have been to lie down, but Donny boy's not too bright.

"I'll get you for that, you bastard,"

Without thinking, I grabbed him by the hair and drove my knee into his nose, which exploded spectacularly. There was blood everywhere, I was just lining up for another kick..."

"STOP IT, DON'T HURT HIM -- STOP IT"

"Hurt him, I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM," and I meant it too!

She jumped off the bed, "Oh my god, where's my phone", pushed past me and ran downstairs.

As I finally came to terms with what had happened; the hot anger drained and a cold fury set in

I still had a handful of Donny's hair, I pulled his head back and looked into his terrified eyes. "What makes you think you can fuck my wife?" the words hissed out between clenched teeth.

"It's just a joke, for fun, no one was supposed to get hurt, please just let me go"

I nearly did, then the meaning of his words sunk in - 'a joke' - and I lost it. Releasing his hair, I kicked him in the balls again. Well, it was a bit more than just a kick, it was all my anger and pain. Donny was lifted right off the floor and collapsed on his side. Then the betrayal finally sunk in; I was hit by a wave of sadness. Sobbing uncontrollably, I ran over and started to pummel him with my fists, the tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Hurry, he's going to kill him" I heard from downstairs.

Next thing I remember there were uniforms and shouting and unbearable pain as the cops rushed in and tasered me to the ground.

What with the tasering and the collapse of my entire world, I did not fully regain consciousness until I sat down in the interview room. I know I

was

conscious because I was walking when they showed it on the news. Sorry, getting ahead of myself again.

At the police station; they sat me down in a little room, on an uncomfortable wooden chair, handcuffs resting on a scratched metal table.

"Are you Stuart Dubois of 72 Oregon Street, Applecross?"

"Yes"

"Would you like to tell us, in your own word what occurred?"

"I walked in on my wife fucking some young prick"

"Is your wife Linda Dubois,"

"Yes... fucking slut"

"Had you ever met Donald Brook before this incident"

"Is that his name? No, I'd never seen the cunt before today"

"Mr. Dubois, you have been charged with Grievous Bodily Harm against Donald Brook. Did you strike him?"

"Yes I struck him, wish I'd killed the little bastard"

"You may yet get your wish, he's in hospital, how about you tell me what happened?"

I told him what had happened, I may have over-emphasised the self-defense part and I definitely played down the pummelling.

"you will be kept here overnight and face the magistrate in the morning, do you wish to contact a solicitor?"

"No fucking point really"

I was then led to a cell and locked up. I'm not ashamed to say that I curled up on the bed and cried like a baby.

I must have cried myself to sleep because the next thing I remember is a copper bringing me some breakfast. Bacon and eggs which I ate it in silence. When he came to collect the tray, another cop led me to a washroom. Apparently, no one had come to inquire about me, so I had to put my smelly, blood splattered clothes back on (for fuck sake Linda, how could you do this to me? I bet she had gone off to the hospital with him -- the slut).

"Listen, mate, I've been a copper for years and believe me I've seen this so many times before. Just tell the magistrate that you are sorry, promise to be a good boy and you will be home by lunchtime"

"I don't have a home"

"I know you're hurting, but it's better than the alternative"

"And what would that be?"

"Remand Centre until your trial date -- months maybe even a year"

"Oh, OK"

We did not speak again, I could tell he felt sorry for me, I felt pretty sorry for myself.

It had been a quiet day at the station, so there was only one other person (well prisoner) in the van for the short trip to the magistrate's court. The court itself was exactly like on the TV; lots of wood paneling and bright lights. I wondered if IKEA had a section in their catalogue.

I stood in the dock and the charges were read out.

"Grievous Bodily Harm your Honour"

The arresting officer got up and explained that he had been called to my house, found me beating the shit out of 'Donald Brook' and arrested me.

The Magistrate asked me why I did not have a solicitor.

"No point Your Honour"

"Do you admit to the charges"

"Oh yes"

"According to my notes, apart from this incident and a couple of speeding tickets, you have been a pillar of the community"

"Thank you"

"If you can promise to behave and have no contact with Mr. Donald Brook, I will set a bail amount and release you"

"I don't promise Your Honour, in fact, given half a chance, I'll hunt Mr. Donald Brook down and give him another beating"

"Well then, you leave me no choice. You will be held in a remand centre until a trial date can be set"

And with that, they led me away. I waited in a cell until about midday, then I was taken by van to the remand centre.

I was still sleepwalking, nothing in the real world could detract from the pain in my gut. All I could hear was my racing heartbeat.

'Why, why had she done this? How could she betray me? Hadn't I been a good husband? Hadn't I given her everything she ever wanted?' The thoughts just went round and round on a continuous loop. It was like a someone was taking a cheese grater to my soul.

All I could see was the frozen tableau of Linda naked on the bed, waiting for her lover. Lover, just thinking the word was painful.

'Oh god, why did this happen to me, why god, what had I done?' suddenly in the depths of despair I believed in god. I guess I needed someone to blame. I prayed for release, for death to come and take me from this agony. I suppose it showed because they put me on "suicide watch" for the first night.

"hold on a minute, you promised us a happy story and this is pretty fucking miserable," I hear you say. Just wait -- things will start to look up.

The remand centre was not too bad. A bit boring, not much to do but wallow in misery; but the food was OK. I suppose I expected 'The Shawshank Redemption' or 'Orange' but it was not like that. I got a cell to myself, no one tried to 'shank' me or rape me, and I got a warm bed (minus a lying cheating whore of a wife); not bad.

I exercised a lot -- burned off the fat from my stomach. Practiced Katas. Started to feel good. My sons, Pete and Simon, came to visit in the second or third week (I was still a bit vague). They asked me what happened. Linda had told them that I had gone mad and beaten up her friend in an unprovoked fit of jealousy. I just could

not

bring myself to tell them my version, to relive it. They had already lost one parent, let them keep the other.

Luckily the TV came to my rescue. I was sitting in the TV room, not focusing when:

"And now on Today Tonight, what happens when a man catches his wife in bed with her lover"

It seems that our next door neighbours (Bob and Carol) had Denis, their 15-year-old grandson visiting. Denis fancied himself a reporter for an internet newspaper. Naturally, he was drawn instantly to the wailing sirens and shouting coming from next door. He got there in time to film me being led away in cuffs, Donny, on a stretcher, being loaded in an ambulance and Linda (you could not see her face with her head in her hands, just a mop of brunette hair) sobbing her heart out on the doorstep. She seemed totally unaware of the fact that she was still dressed in nothing but a skimpy negligée and was naked below the waist.

Donny looked pretty bad. Broken nose, eyes swollen shut and when they removed the mask to suction the blood out, you could clearly see that most of his front teeth were missing. His good hand was clutching an ice pack to his groin.

Young Denis will probably end up a world class reporter because he managed to slip past the cops and paramedics to sit down next to Linda.

"What happened?"

"Oh god it's all my fault," she sobbed.

"I'm sure it's not

all

your fault, it will make you feel better if you tell me, go on just unload," I think it all got too much for her and she started talking to a complete stranger; oblivious to the fact that he was recording the whole thing on his phone.

"My, my husband caught me in bed with another man, but, but it's not like that, it's not like I was having an affair or anything. I was just helping him get over his shyness. He's such a sweet boy. I was trying to teach him. I didn't love him or anything, it was just, you know, sex education."

At that point, a paramedic walked up.

"We're taking him to Charlie's, I'd offer to let you ride in the ambulance, but we can't wait and you're not really dressed for it," he finished with a chuckle.

"What, Oh, OK," then she looks down and, "OH MY GOD, I'M NAKED!" she jumped up and rushed through the front door, slamming it behind her.

Our budding reporter then started negotiating with the local news stations. Let's face it Perth is a sleepy little town and this was great news. Sex, violence, scandal, and nudity (they did tastefully censor the footage so that Linda's charms were not quite on show).

The TV room exploded with cheers.

"Way to go new guy!"

"you gave him a fucking good kickin'"

"You should have killed the bastard, and your cheating whore of a wife"

Funnily enough, I didn't like people calling her a cheating whore. It was OK for me to say it, because, well she

was

a cheating whore, but I didn't like other people saying it.

"you are fucking better off without the fat cow," now that upset me, she might be a bit overweight, but she was still my goddess! Then I remembered the fact that she

was

a cheating whore and I bit my tongue.

The next day both the boys and my daughter Susan all came to visit me. They told me that Linda

had

gone to visit Donny in the hospital only to be confronted by another woman (younger than her), who turned out to be his mother. Realising who Linda was, Donny's mother blew up and attacked her; calling her a whore and a slut and blaming her for Donny's misfortune. Apparently, security was called and Linda was escorted out of the hospital. I laughed and laughed.

The national news picked up the story and all of Australia got to see my misery. The idea of a somewhat plump 55-year-old woman and a 17-year-old boy was too good to be true. It got onto YouTube and went viral. 'Slut-Granny' they called her. The boys told me that it became a "meme". She even got a hashtag #slutgranny.

I started getting tons of mail. Not just email but snail-mail from all over the world. Many, many men applauded what I had done. I was a hero to cuckolds everywhere!

Instant celebrity was not all good. There was a lot of sympathy for the "poor little boy beaten up by the bully". The fact that I was an overweight old man and Donny stood a head taller than me, did not seem to matter to some people. My martial arts skills were exaggerated out of all proportion. People could not really decide whether I was Kane from Kung-Fu or Hannibal Lector.

It seems that Linda started getting lots of mail as well: women saying that she was an inspiration to 55-year -old's (I guess they thought that if

she

could get a young lover, there was hope for them all), death threats from church groups and wronged husbands and most concerning of all, an offer from an adult magazine to be their centre spread! It takes all sorts...

It seems that 'slut-granny' made one statement to the press, she said that she was sorry, she felt responsible for what happened to Donny and hoped they could still be "friends" when he got out of the hospital.

I received my trial date, it was five months away.

Then, just when it seemed to be dying down, there was the '60 Minutes' report.

"The slut-granny phenomena -- what really happened? See it tonight on '60 Minutes'."

It was on during dinner, but the guards said we could have early dinner and watch it (I'm pretty sure they didn't want to miss it either). The TV room was packed; I was lucky to get a place!

"The world was shocked by the footage of young Donny Brook recovering from the savage beating he received from a jealous husband. They were touched by his 55-year-old lover's willingness to stand by him. Now for the first time, '60 minutes' can reveal what really happened."

Cut to a scene of Donny painfully wheeling himself into a studio to be interviewed. His face was not swollen and he had obviously had some dental work done. He looked like a fit, handsome young man.

"Welcome Donny, how are you feeling today?"

"Hi, Ken. Well, some days are better than others, but I get by. One day at a time"

"Do they expect you to make a full recovery"

"I'm working with the physio's and they say I'll be walking in a month or two, I hope they are right," sigh.

"So do we all Donny. Could you please tell us your side of the story"

"Well Ken, I met Linda at work. She is a nurse and I worked in the flower shop. I'll never forget the first time we met; she looked so beautiful that I walked out of the shop and gave her a rose. It was love at first sight. From her name tag, I found out where her office was, and I left a red rose on her desk every day. We started having coffee together and, well one thing led to another. We didn't mean to fall in love, it just happened. I knew it was wrong but we were so much in love and we wanted to express that love physically. I think the whole world knows what happened when her brute of a husband walked in on us." He laughed self-effacingly and indicated his wheelchair.

"That's very touching Donny. Tell me about the website 'GILF.com'"

"I don't think I've ever heard of it Ken," looking around nervously.

"let me tell you then. It's a website run by good looking young men, like yourself. What they do is seduce middle-aged, married women and post naked pictures and videos on the website. GILF stands for 'Granny I'd Like to ...' well you know the rest.

Members are

paid

to post compromising pictures of women. There is a sliding scale of rates:

$15.00 for 'boobs'

$20.00 for 'pussy'

$30.00 for 'BJ'

$50.00 for 'Vanilla'

$75.00 for 'Anal'

And $250.00 for 'Grand Prize -- all of the above with video'"

"What's this got to do with me, Ken?"

"Well Donny -- you are a member of 'GILF.com' going by the username 'Donnybrook1706'"

"I've never heard of it before!"

"How can you say that Donny? It's a bit of a coincidence isn't it: Donnybrook; Donald Brook. And your birthday is 17

th

June that's 1706. We've managed to confirm that you paid for your membership using your credit card.

We also have copies of these pictures that were posted by you." Cut to pictures of near-naked middle-aged women (pixelated censorship of busts and crotches as well as faces). Did you post these pictures, Donny?"

"This is crap -- I've never seen any of these pictures before. You have no proof that I had anything to do with this!"

"Well, we thought you might say that. What about this picture that was posted four weeks before the incident?" picture of Linda, top open, holding her bra up to show her bare breasts (pixelated on the nipple area).

"This is clearly Linda Dubois, the lady that you profess to love."

"I never posted that -- it could have been anyone, the slut's probably got a string of boyfriends"