"What's going on with you guys?" their daughter Tenisha says. "I'm getting this weird vibe between you lately."
Siting at the breakfast nook table, Caine stares at his wife Ava's back as she stands before the kitchen sink, rinsing the French knife she used to cut orange slices for their sixteen-year-old daughter. Rather than answer their daughter, he waits to see what answer Ava will come up with.
Fucking slut.
Without turning around so they can see her face and maybe reveal her guilt, Ava says, "We're fine, honey. Hurry up and finish eating so you don't miss the bus. I've already had to take you to school once this week."
Caine wonders if Ava doesn't want to take Ten to school today because today is one of her days to fuck her lover. Apparently his wife doesn't do her dirt on a schedule, so he never knows when it's going to happen again. He just knows it will.
After Ten has left for school, Ava loads the dishwasher, maybe keeping herself busy so she doesn't have to look him in the eye. Caine picks up his phone. Ava will assume he's checking the news or weather app before going to work. He isn't. He navigates to his phone's messages and opens a message he received on Sunday night. Today is Thursday.
The message is from a man who identifies himself only as C. Over the past two weeks Caine has received three messages from C. Those messages knocked his world off its axis and changed everything he thought he believed to be true about his life. The message Caine is rereading for the umpteenth time is the most recent one from C:
Hey Caine, so this time she told me she wanted me to fuck her like a dog. To be more specific, she said she wanted me to use her pussy like she was a bitch in heat. Pretty hot, huh? If you check out the attached video (I know you will) you'll see she was serious. Right now she's on the edge of the bed, naked, of course, on her knees and elbows with her face down and her ass up like...well, like a bitch in heat, needing a dick in her fever hot cunt. Begging for it, man. I'm about to go give it to her. Bro, I can't believe you haven't confronted her yet. Okay, I'm going to go shoot a load or two deep in your wife's hot hole before she starts screaming at me to come fuck her. She begs like a dog too. She's really cute when she begs.
C
Ava is almost finished loading the dishwasher. Next she'll ask him if he wants her to make him lunch today to take to work or if he'll go out to eat somewhere. Caine makes sure his phone's volume is on mute, then opens the video he received on Sunday, of his wife of eighteen years getting fucked by another man.
==========
Just like the two previous videos, this one was shot in a bedroom somewhere. There's a king-sized be with a brass headboard, a dresser, a chest of drawers and nightstands of some dark wood. The floor is hardwood, with a few expensive-looking area rugs positioned next to the bed and around the room like a series of islands on a wooden ocean. There are two windows on the same wall. Their curtains are open, the blinds pulled up. Beyond the windows Caine can see the roof of a brick building that must be across the street. There is a billboard on the roof of that building, colorfully painted in shades of red, orange, and yellow, advertising the premier of yet another superhero movie, this one about the character called Firestarter. Firestarter can set anything or anyone on fire just by staring at it or them. Caine thinks that logically that power is more suitable for a supervillain. Caine thinks if Firestarter were real, with that kind of power he would be a villain rather than a hero.
Ava is on the side of the bed, like her lover said, on her knees and elbows, face down and ass up toward the camera. Caine can't see her face, but after being together eighteen years he'd know his wife's ass and mature curves anywhere. He thinks if someone had been on that roof across the street, standing in front of the billboard, if the light was right they could look in and see Ava naked and in a position of submission on the bed, waiting to be fucked by her lover.
She's squirming like she's hot for it, like she can't wait for it.
Fucking slut.
Having watched the video many times, Caine knows if the volume on his phone was up, he would hear Ava begging for it, calling this motherfucker C Daddy. Pleading for him to use his pussy and fill her up with his sweet cock and hot cum.
Fucking whore bitch.
Caine doesn't know how long Ava had been cheating on him before her lover decided to start sending him videos. This message and video are the third this month, arriving in less than a two-week period. He thinks all the videos are recent, sent on the day of, or a day or so after they were recorded. That means Ava is meeting with her lover more than once a week.
Fucking traitorous bitch.
Caine can't figure C out. The first message he'd sent almost two weeks ago was a short one:
Hey bro, I thought you should know what Ava's been up to with me.
That first video was an hour long. In it, a camera mounted near the bedroom ceiling showed the empty room. The king-sized bed was bare of a spread or comforter; there was only a fitted sheet on it, as if it had been readied for their use. Then Ava entered the room. She was wearing a sexy strapless black bodycon dress that hugged her curves and showed off inches of cleavage. Caine vaguely remembered her buying that dress, perhaps a couple years ago, but his recollection is vague. He does not remember ever seeing her wear it, nor does he remember at all the black d'Orsay stiletto heels she was wearing in the video.
In the video, at first Ava stood before the dresser mirror, looking at herself as she unzipped her dress and took it off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and the high-definition recording revealed her panties were crotchless. Caine didn't know she even owned a pair of crotchless panties. By the time C entered the bedroom Ava was naked. In that first video and in the two Caine received after that, C's head was always blurred out, hiding his face.
In that first video, as soon as C entered the bedroom Ava ran to him like a child running to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning, then dropped to her knees in front of him. Naked on her knees, Ava clawed like a madwoman at C's belt and his zipper, as if she couldn't wait to get at his dick. In that first video Caine saw that C was hung like a porn star, and when he was undressed he observed with dismay that he was built like a 100-meter dash Olympian.
In that first video, C spent the first several minutes clutching fistfuls of Ava's hair as he viciously fucked her mouth while her arms dangled at her sides, and she was damn near flopping around like a rag doll.
Caine couldn't understand it. Ava always told him that she hated it when he tried to do that, even by accident, tried to get himself farther into her mouth than she wanted to take him. And so in eighteen years he always made sure he let Ava be in control when she performed fellatio on him, always resisted the urge to even thrust forward a little bit so he wouldn't piss her off. But in the video she was letting this dude C fuck her mouth like it was a pussy. As long and thick as the dude was, she didn't even gag.
In that first video, when C finally stopped using Ava's mouth, he pointed at the bed. Ava scrambled onto the bed obediently and in a hurry and lay on its foot with her ass on its edge and her legs spread so wide her feet reached either side. Caine had no idea his wife was so flexible. Usually when they did it, she either clutched his thighs with hers or wrapped her legs around his back. Both positions gave her a measure of control over his movements, so she could make him not be too aggressive when he was inside her. But in the video, she left herself wide open and vulnerable, and C was pounding her, ravaging her, tearing her up, and she was flailing in ecstasy and among other entreaties and obscenities screaming "Yes, yes, oh yes Daddy, fuck me! Fuck your cunt with your god cock!"
At some point well into the hour C snatched his dick out of Ava's pussy. She'd wailed miserably at the loss, as if as hard as he'd been fucking her and as many times as he'd pounded her into screaming orgasms, she wanted more. C stood waiting, and when Ava looked at him he made a circling motion with his finger. Like a circus trained animal Ava rolled over and positioned herself on her elbows and knees, but only for a moment. She lowered her head to the sheet so she could reach backside, and then spread her ass cheeks open.
Watching that first video, Caine had realized then that there had to be more than one camera recording, because he was watching the video from varied angles. A camera directly above the foot of the bed showed C guiding his porn star dick to press the plum-sized head against the bud of Ava's rectum. Rather than push into her, he told Ava to give him his ass. Holding her cheeks open for him, she thrust herself back, impaling herself on his dick, and kept pushing back until he was in her to the root. Caine remembered at that point actually being frightened that Ava was going to be injured, that something had to be ruptured inside her, because the dude was so big. But when C was in her so deep he must have been in her stomach, Ava cried out, "Ahh Daddy, you feel so good in your ass!" and then, "Fuck me please! Oh please, take me! Take this ass! It's yours!" And then C said, "No, you give my ass to me," and Ava went to work like she was trying to commit suicide, moving forward to let that big dick slip halfway out of her asshole, then ramming herself back onto it, so hard that the sounds of her bare ass slapping against her lover's rock-hard abs filled the room. Using her ass to fuck herself on her lover's dick, Ava gave herself three or four wailing orgasms.
For eighteen years Caine had believed Ava thought anal sex was disgusting and that she would never do it, because that's what she'd always told him. In eighteen years, even when fumbling in the dark and he'd missed where he was trying to go and got too close to her nether hole she would freeze up and say, "Uh-uh. You know better," like she was warning a child not to reach for the forbidden cookie jar.
