byVandemonium1
If you haven’t figured it out for yourself by now. I like stories where a man is put in a situation where he has only unpleasant choices. He then does a little thinking outside the box and comes out on top. Welcome to one of those stories. For US citizens, the title is explained at the end.
This story has two themes that I haven’t seen before so strap in for the ride. I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it. Be warned, I have set myself a challenge during this one.
Hearty thanks to XTCH for advice on the ending. Thanks also to Nancy for proof reading.
SPOILER ALERT. As this is a fairly long one I thought I’d give you a few hints. I hate wasting people’s time. Read the rest of this paragraph if you want to only. It does involve a cheating wife and she does suffer. The hard core btb crowd may not think she suffers enough but thinking people will recognise her devastation.
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If you had asked me yesterday if I had a happy marriage, I would have said yes with a huge smile. Fuck, if you’d asked me at breakfast today, I’d have said the same. I pinched myself every day when I came home to prove I wasn’t living a dream. I took a quick inventory. Job, one of, fun and rewarding, check. House, one of, big and fully paid off, check. Bank account, one of, pleasantly big and growing steadily, check. Wife, one of, attractive, loyal, reciprocates devotion, check. Kids, two of, boy and girl, 15 and 14 respectively, check. Life just couldn’t get better.
The trouble was, this wasn’t yesterday or breakfast this morning. This was here and now. 2.33PM today. And the world had just turned to shit. Bigtime.
Dave, Zero Hour
As I stood in the lounge downstairs I think I could be excused for feeling very confused. I’d heard of multiple orgasms but had never heard anything like what I just had. I knew I was sick, shit, that was why I was home three hours early. Why had I just heard my wife orgasm twice? At the same time!
Clutching my roiling belly, I staggered up the stairs and peeped around the master bedroom door frame. Normally the sight of my wife masturbating would have excited me, but I was too sick and confused to behave normally. I knew Donna was highly sexed. She still proves it at least three times a week even after 17 years.
Yes, there was Donna, my Donna, lying on our bed stark naked. Stomach temporarily forgotten, I noted her still lithe form lying there naked as the day she was born. Not only naked but with legs spread as far as they would go and both hands busy between them. Even as I watched her back arched in bliss at her second or was it third climax. I was so confused. I’d heard three but logically it can only have been two.
Ordinarily it would have been an extremely hot sight, but today it was far from it. You see, the arrangement of the bedroom gave me a side on view of our bed. Also it gave me a good view of the porn movie she was finding so exciting. Now I like porn as much as the next guy, but this particular porno had me angry and confused. Not the fact that Donna was the female lead in this particular one, but rather that I wasn’t the male lead. I’m not that muscular or that blonde.
I quickly discounted the possibility that the movie had been made PM. Pre me. She definitely wasn’t 17 years younger on the screen.
I watched my two wives come together. The one on the screen reverse cowgirling the unknown blonde guy. All three of them had their eyes squeezed shut. I vaguely noticed the bed on the screen and the bed under my real-time wife were one and the same. My brain couldn’t handle either of the sights, so my eyes automatically left the bed and the screen. They fell on the bottom drawer of Donna’s dresser, incongruously pulled all the way out.
Not distracted, or more likely spurred on by the sights in front of me, my stomach remembered why it was home early. I took it into the bathroom and worshipped the great porcelain goddess. As I passed the bed I heard a loud, “Oh fuck!”
Donna takes over the story
I was just coming down from my second orgasm. Over the years I had perfected my masturbatory technique. I used one of my various vibrators on my clit while I watched the screen at the end of the bed. Not for the first time, I tried to remember the guy’s name. Was it Jeff or Jed, something like that anyway? Well it had been over three years ago. As my climax hit I pushed the vibrator deep into my pussy and started stroking my clitoris while I rode the waves of wonderful muscle spasms.
Suddenly I sensed, rather than saw or heard, movement near the bed. I opened my eyes just in time to see Dave disappear into the bathroom. All thoughts of pleasure vaporised. All that occupied my mind now was deep sorrow and regret. You wouldn’t believe the amount of planning and effort that had gone in to making sure this day never arrived. In fact I was so sure that it wouldn’t that I hadn’t given one iota of thought on what I would do or say. All I could do was wait for my beloved husband to come out of the bathroom.
I stood up as he came out and searched his face for clues of how he was taking it all. Apart from a slightly confused look, his face was unreadable. I saw him glance over my shoulder. Fuck, I’d left the video running. I hadn’t meant to rub his face in my betrayal like that.
I tried to stop him as he pushed past me, heading for the bedroom exit. He roughly pushed me backwards onto the bed. I was stunned. Dave was such a gentle man and hadn’t laid a finger on me in that way before.
I was too late to stop him going down the stairs and into the basement spare bedroom. I heard the lock click as the door closed between us. Right at that moment my phone alarm went off, warning me that it was time to pick the kids up from school. Setting aside the necessary damage control of my marriage I left on my regular chore. It only took a little over 30 minutes and I was back. The door to the basement was still locked and there was no answer to my knocking. The kids were confused by my obvious worry and strange behaviour. When they asked what I was doing, I replied that their dad had come home early and for some reason had locked himself in the basement.
Kate, our youngest, knocked on the basement door and called her Dad. The door cracked open and there was a whispered conversation. Kate returned.
“Dad says he’s sick and he doesn’t want to contaminate us. He is going to stay in the basement till he’s better. He said not to worry about him for dinner.”
I then busied myself feeding the ravenous teenagers. If you’ve never been round teens you won’t realise how much they can eat. Dave once joked that if there wasn’t food in the pantry after school then the kids would probably eat the pantry door. There was still no sign of Dave when the kids went to bed at 9.30.
With no more excuses to distract myself, I decided to eat some humble pie. Rather than debasing myself by knocking on the basement door and possibly being ignored, I searched through our key collection in the bottom drawer in the kitchen. I found a likely looking one and was in luck when it opened the door. Flicking on the light before walking down the steps, I was struck by the pervading smell of vomit. Shit, maybe Dave really was sick. That would explain why he was home early.
Dave was lying on his side on the bed, facing the wall. He appeared pale and shrunken, nothing like the 6’ 1” man I knew and loved. There was a bucket next to the bed, partly filled with sick. I took it to the bathroom, emptied and rinsed it out. Returning to the bed I noticed Dave hadn’t moved a muscle.
My heart immediately went out to him. How could I have hurt this lovely man? This man who had worshipped me for almost 20 years, denying me nothing and spoiling me constantly. The best husband and father a girl could hope for. This pillar of our small community who donated so much of his spare time for others. Not only had he coached several mini league soccer teams that our children were in but even kept it up long after they’d lost interest. This man that went out of his way to act as mentor to all the boys in our street that didn’t have fathers for one reason or another. Barely a weekend went past when there wasn’t at least double the complement of children in our house than he’d sired. Sometimes our garden suffered because he was busy helping deserving local ladies who had no husband to do the heavy lifting for them. This picture of altruism. How could I have hurt him?
With deep shame and a heavy heart, I sat on the bed, leaned over and kissed him. He didn’t respond but I could see his eyes were open. Desperately I tried to justify what he’d seen.
“I’m so sorry Dave, I should have told you at the time but I just couldn’t bring myself to risk our marriage.”
I waited for Dave to respond, turn to face me or even acknowledge my presence. Nothing.
“I did something really foolish three years ago darling. When you were away for a week I went to that bar just out of town with Janet. We got talking to two travellers. Two men. Well they bought us a few drinks and we were having a good time. It all seemed like innocent fun. I know I should have left when Janet did, but I foolishly stayed.”
I paused, carefully picking my words. I instinctively knew I had to minimise the hurt.
“I tried to call a taxi to get home but they said it was an hours’ wait. The guy that stayed with me offered me a lift home and I suppose that I was drunk enough to foolishly accept. He picked up another bottle of wine and brought me home. I guess I was grateful because when we got here I invited him in. Oh Dave, I think he slipped something into my wine. He was soon all over me and I just couldn’t say no. He carried me up to our bedroom and made love to me. I guess it was the drug that made me lose all my inhibitions and I really got into it. I didn’t even think it was wrong, or feel guilty at the time. He only left when the kids got home. I had to sneak him out the back door.”
I paused, sniffing back my tears.
“The next day there was a DVD in the letter box with a note. The bastard must have secretly videoed us. The note said that unless I agreed to screw him every time he came through town, he would tell you. You would have been proud of me Dave. I called his bluff and told him to fuck off. I never heard from him again. I kept the DVD and was going to tell you, honestly Dave, but changed my mind when I realised I had been really stupid going to that bar in the first place. I changed my mind but never got around to throwing that DVD away.”
It was impossible to read the expression on Dave’s face. He still hadn’t moved.
“Well, I found the DVD a month ago and watched it. Strangely it really turned me on. I forgot how humiliated I was at the time and just remembered how exciting it had been. It made me horny and I masturbated. I am ashamed to say that I have done that several times over the last month. Can you ever forgive me Dave?”
Finally Dave moved. Quickly he spun around, leaned over the edge of the bed and hurled into the bucket. I ran my fingers through the hair on the back of his head as he retched up his stomach lining.
“You poor darling. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Without moving his head out of the bucket, I saw his left hand groping for the bedside cabinet. Finding the handle of the bottom drawer he pulled it open. In absolute horror I saw what must have been all the other 27 DVDs from my collection. He must have retrieved them when I did the school run from their hiding place under the bottom drawer of my dresser. I suddenly needed my own bucket. Horrified, I bolted from the room. As I was leaving, Dave was rolling into his position facing the wall. I didn’t realise till later that I’d left the door key on the bathroom sink.
In absolute panic, I was totally at a loss on what to do now. I had just compounded my mistake of cheating on my husband by bare faced lying to him. I really couldn’t see how I would survive this one. I know, I’ll ring my best friend Janet. She always knows what to do. Luckily she answered on the 4th ring.
“Janet, you have to help me. Dave found all my DVDs this afternoon, he’s gone ballistic.”
“Fuck Donna, I told you it was stupid to record all your flings and keep all the shows.”
“And I told you Janet, I was only doing it for Dave’s sake. It meant I only had to find a new guy every month or so. Watching the movies afterwards allowed me to, er, relieve the pressure, if you know what I mean. If it wasn’t for the movies I would have had to go to the bar every week. It’s not Dave’s fault he couldn’t keep up with me when I started feeling horny all the time three years ago. Oh Janet it gets worse. He came home early and saw me wanking to one of the videos of me and one of the meats. I tried to pretend it was only one time but he’d already found all the other discs. He must have seen my hiding place when he caught me.”
“Donna, please tell me you got rid of the DVD with me on it, the one of us having a foursome on your bed. That would fuck me up as well.” I couldn’t believe she was being so selfish.
“Don’t worry Janet, I said I would and I did.”
“He doesn’t know about the sloppy seconds’ thing does he?”
“Come on Janet. That only happened a couple of times when I couldn’t refuse Dave after one of my flings. Although I have to admit they were kind of hot and they are some of my favourite shows. No that was much more your thing than mine.”
“What do you think Dave will do Donna?”
“I just don’t know Janet. That’s why I rang you.”
“Well, I think you have him over a barrel Donna. He can’t really divorce you without admitting you have been screwing around on him for three years. It will all come out and he will be the laughing stock of the whole town. No Donna, you can be sure he won’t say a damn thing. He has way too much face to lose. If he tries to go for one of those no fault things you can always hint that you’ll put the word around. That would just kill him.”
“No Janet, I could never do that, I think. No, I’ll just have to eat some major humble pie for a while and hope he snaps out of it. I can’t afford to lose him, I love him too much.”
“Okay Don, you start sucking up. Just remember not to implicate me in all this. It would really complicate things for me and Reg. Speak to you tomorrow girlfriend.”
“Okay, till tomorrow, bye Janet.”
Just before I hung the phone up I heard, “Yeah, bye Janet,” in a masculine voice. I had forgotten the extension in the basement hadn’t I. Desperately trying to recall everything I’d said over the last 10 minutes, I collapsed sobbing on the bed. What have I done? I knew I‘d always been able to wrap Dave around my little finger but knew I would be pushing shit uphill this time. I knew our easy communication would be missing. I consoled myself with the knowledge that nothing was my fault and I had done everything I could to minimise the disrespect to my Dave. He should be happy that I’d controlled my urges in such a discrete way, I just had to get him to realise that.
My mind went back to just over three years ago. Two weeks after my 43rd birthday. Everything I’d told Dave earlier had been absolutely true. Well nearly. The first step in damaging my marriage did happen when he was away for a week. I was feeling horny, as I was increasingly so those days. That was the day Janet came round and the conversation turned to sex. Then it turned to extra marital sex. Janet confided that for years she had been seeking solace outside her marriage. I didn’t recognise that her motivation was very different to any I might have. Apparently her Reg was neither that interested nor gifted in the sex department. I remember zoning out for a while thinking about my Dave. My husband WAS interested in sex. Lots of sex. I decided not to make Janet jealous by going into Dave’s superior endowment and well-practiced skills.
For the sake of our friendship I shook myself out of my reverie and concentrated on what Janet was saying. With little encouragement she described how she sought satisfaction by going to the bar just out of town in the mid-afternoons. That was when the travelling salesmen normally checked in, before relaxing in the bar. She would choose her target and spend the afternoon getting fulfilment. In the two years she had been doing it, Reg had never even come close to catching her.
Ignoring the fact that there were few similarities between her situation and mine, my mental slide into infidelity began. To satisfy my growing insatiable urges I would follow Janet’s lead but with small differences. Rather than go to the guy’s motel room, I would bring them home. I figured that if I could video the action I could then watch the tape over and over, satisfying myself while Dave wasn’t home. Christ, I may only have to do it once and get years’ worth of fantasies. Even as Janet continued to talk, I considered my plan and the more I thought of it the hotter I got.
In my head I had planned. If I did it on my day off it would be simple. Arranging for the kids to go somewhere else after school would give me three to four hours before Dave got home. There were plenty of places to hide a camera in our bedroom.
In the present, the dark depressing present, I thought of the risks I had taken. For the first time I wondered whether, rather than acting on my dreams, I should have sought help.
When, two days later, Janet told me she was going on the hunt again, I didn’t hesitate. As I said, everything I’d told Dave about the first time was absolutely true. Well, apart from the drugging and blackmail thing that is. My first time had been incredibly hot and it was still one of my favourite recordings. But the images hadn’t kept me going for years. In fact, it was barely seven weeks. But hey, that was much better than going out every week or so wasn’t it. Dave had to understand that.
Thus satisfied with my self-delusion, I planned my reconquest of Dave.
Dave didn’t cooperate. He was still locked in the cellar when we all left the next morning, refusing to even answer our knocking. The kids were worried, but I assured them their Dad was just needing some time to get over his sickness.
About lunchtime a dark thought struck me. Could Dave have harmed himself overnight? I arranged to take the afternoon off and rang a locksmith to meet me at our house. I explained that we had accidently locked the basement door and didn’t have a key. It was scary how quickly he had it open. I ushered him to the front door, thinking again what a hunk he was, and went back down the basement steps.
Dave was in exactly the same position as I had left him last night. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, watching his face until I saw him blink. Having had all night and day to think, I launched into my defence. This time I told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The urges, the trysts, the movies, the clever way I had found to minimise my, er……excursions, the works. I reassured him of my love and continued devotion.
I’d decided, before coming home, that I was going to leave my defence there. I would sit back and let Dave vent his anger at me any way he chose. I knew Dave as well as myself and fully expected his angry tirade.
What I got. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He just lay there, facing his blank wall. If it wasn’t for the faint breathing and occasional blinking he might have been dead. I snuggled up against his back. If I couldn’t convince him of my love with words then I would try by action. I gave up after 10 minutes feeling a bit silly when he didn’t move a muscle.
After retrieving the key, I left the basement and went to our bedroom. Laying on our bed, I cried, just glimpsing a fraction of the pain Dave must be feeling. This was going to take longer than I thought. Suddenly I heard the front door slam. Before I could get there, I heard Dave’s car start and drive off. To avoid having them pushed constantly in his face I retrieved all the DVDs from the basement and spent an hour finding a new hiding place for them under the floorboards in my walk in robe. By that stage it was time to pick up the kids.
Dave came home just as dinner was ready. He sat down and talked to the kids, almost normally, but didn’t so much as make eye contact with me. At 9.30 he excused himself and went back to the basement. The kids asked me if I’d done something to hurt their dad. That upset me more than anything else so far. I pretended ignorance.
After they went to bed, I spent 15 minutes making Dave a coffee just how he likes it. Tray in hand I tried the basement door, locked again. With the key I’d retrieved, I unlocked it. Picking up the tray again I pushed. It didn’t budge, just pushed against the new bolt that Dave must have installed earlier. There was no answer to my knocking and plaintive calls. At a loss on what to do, I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. I was too sad even to masturbate, even though the urge was there.
Dave was gone by the time I awoke the next morning. After getting the kids off, I went into the basement. I made Dave’s bed and opened the small ground level window to disperse the lingering smell of vomit. Sitting on the desk was our laptop. I opened the lid and once it came out of hibernation, up flashed a website called the nine stages of mourning. I glanced through the first three stages. Shock, denial, anger then scrolled down to the last one, acceptance. I fought back a tear as I imagined Dave feverishly trying to work out where he was up to and wishing to get to the end. I went to work.
Over to Dave
After staggering to the basement five minutes after my marriage ended, I was incapable of everything but lying there, spewing and stewing. When I heard Donna leave to pick up the kids I retrieved the DVDs from under her dresser. I knew I didn’t have the mental strength yet to actually watch them. They were all marked with numbers and I could only presume they were similar to the one I had glimpsed. I still had no idea what to do when the bitch came down and pretended to care about me. I don’t know whether it was my dodgy stomach or listening to her blatant lies that made me spew after she’d finished. Not trusting my voice I simply opened the drawer to expose her lies. My sense that I wanted to hurt her was partially satisfied, when she screamed and ran out of my sanctuary.
I was still lying there when I heard the ting from the phone that signified the upstairs extension had been picked up. I lifted the handset and was treated to a full and frank confession. I’m sorry I just couldn’t help myself by saying goodbye to Janet as well.
I spent the next morning copying all the DVDs to my laptop. Admiring the initiative she took with the locksmith, I returned to my hurt position and awaited the inevitable visit. I was not the slightest bit surprised by her full confession, I mean, what choice did she have? I waited for the bits where she apologised or showed some sort of remorse and was shocked when not only were they not forthcoming but she seemed proud of something. I was still processing this when she left. After I heard her car leave I went out, dropped the hard drive back-up at work and bought a deadbolt.
When I returned home I was going to hide again but once I saw my kids, I pretended things were normal for their sakes. Knowing I still couldn’t control my anger, I ignored Donna. Returning to my hideaway I decided on an internet search to try to find out how I should be thinking. I knew I didn’t think like other men so wasn’t surprised when I couldn’t recognise myself in the nine stages of mourning. I had always thought of myself as a simple man, so came up with my own list. Anger, confusion, protect what is mine, revenge. I also knew that I was a decisive man, so by the 24 hour mark, knew what had to happen. That is why I ignored Donna’s frantic knocking later. She was no longer part of my plan. She was irrelevant.
Back to Donna
The next day was a Friday and as it turned out, the start of the new reality. Dave joined us for breakfast and appeared normal, in a hollow kind of way, around the kids. But he didn’t so much as acknowledge my existence. He went to work without a glance, kiss or word. I gave him the space I knew he needed to work through all this. He returned at his usual time and it was more of the same. On the weekend he went to the kid’s sports events and did yard work as usual. Not a word was exchanged with me. Sure, I spoke to him but it was entirely a one way process. I did take every opportunity to remind him that I loved him. The kids knew something was up but never raised it again.
By the end of the following week, I’d had enough. I tried to confront Dave to find out where he was at and really bared my soul. I also tried to warn him that as it was over two weeks since I’d had sex, I was getting super horny. It just didn’t seem right even getting the movies out of hiding while Dave was hurting. Nothing worked. He just turned and walked away every time. Another weekend passed with no end in sight.
Monday afternoon I got a fright. Janet rang. She was the receptionist at the town’s one and only law practice. Dave had rung for an appointment and had a meeting scheduled for Thursday. She also said that her Reg had started acting all funny around her as well. The news about Dave’s appointment put me in shock. Surely our marriage hadn’t been damaged that much. Hadn’t Dave listened to a word I’d said? Surely he believed I loved him and wanted to grow old with him. I asked Janet to have a hypothetical talk to the best divorce lawyer to see what advice Dave would likely receive.
Janet rang back before Dave got home with her results. The lawyer would advise him that my behaviour in the marriage was irrelevant. In a no fault regime, I would be awarded custody of the kids, be given occupancy of the children’s home and be awarded the bulk of our assets. Dave would be stuck paying child support and alimony. Thus reassured that Dave would be secure in our marriage after this advice, plus the need to avoid public humiliation, I relaxed again and decided to continue giving him time and space to reach the same conclusion. To be honest with myself, I didn’t know what to say to him anyway.
Life continued on the new norm. Dave took Thursday off and I felt I had to prove my superiority and generally relaxed attitude by telling him that I knew he was seeing a lawyer. I even summarised Janet’s advice and urged him to bow to the inevitable by forgiving me. As usual, he made no comment.
Janet rang at the end of the day to say she had been fired. Reading between the lines, Dave must have let on that she had tipped me off about his appointment to her bosses and they had let her go for not being discrete. I apologised of course but pointed out that I hadn’t asked her to tip me off. I vowed to give Dave a piece of my mind. His selfish behaviour was starting to affect my friendships. Of course that came to nothing. He just ignored me when he got home.
Another uncomfortable weekend followed. The kids both went away and I had hopes that Dave would leave for a few hours too so I could, um, use my DVD collection for its intended purpose, but he hung around doing yard work the whole time. The tension, both around the house and within my groin, was getting unbearable. To force the issue I tried talking to him, asking what he intended, but he just ignored me. I even hinted that unless he did his husbandly duty soon, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions. Nothing. He just continued preparing his own food and doing his own thing.
On Sunday my Mum and Dad visited. Dave sat down with us for a while and acted normal. I don’t think my folks even realised that he didn’t once address me. Monday Dave was still at home when I left for work. Tuesday, he was home before me. Something was going on, but I had no idea what.
Great news Wednesday. Dave looked at me. I heard him get up early and joined him for coffee in the kitchen. I told him that if he didn’t snap out of his funk today, then I had no choice but to go out on one of my trips tomorrow. I hoped like hell that he would respond and do his duty. The thought of doing one of my trips now he knew about them, made me feel kind of uncomfortable. After I’d finished, Dave just stared at me. Then he went to work leaving his coffee half finished. When he came home, I asked if he’d made a decision but he’d gone back to ignoring me. Once again I explained that I loved only him. That night, I lay naked in bed expecting a visitor but was disappointed.
On Thursday I confirmed my decision to Dave. I was honest and said that I intended bringing a guy home that afternoon. With his now erratic work hours, I requested that he stayed away from the house until at least 6PM and make sure the kids did as well. I repeated again why it was so important that I bring them home, reiterating the whole camera thing. I promised to continue to be discrete. Dave said nothing but from the back I could see that his ears went red. I don’t know why he was angry, it was all his fault after all.
The day went pretty much as planned. I brought home the first guy that said yes rather than being as fussy as I usually was. It was nowhere near as natural and flowing as usual. That niggling feeling of unease just wouldn’t completely disappear. In fact I struggled to get off just the once. We did anal for a while but I just wasn’t in the mood. I kicked him out early and finished the afternoon with one of my favourite home movies. Afterwards I had a brilliant idea. I would suggest to Dave that we could watch one or more of the movies together. That way he could see that there was absolutely no emotional attachment involved. Shit, I hardly ever even kissed the guys. Who knows, Dave might even get turned on as well. If only I could get comfortable enough to start watching the movies with Dave in the house, things would be almost back to normal.
After I could cum no more, I showered and prepared Dave’s favourite meal. I really went all out on it.
Back to Dave
It had taken me almost two weeks to arrange the meeting. From what Donna had told me and from the phone call to Janet that I’d eavesdropped on, I knew she thought I had only two options. Continue to go along knowingly with her lifestyle or get ruined and publically humiliated in a divorce. Neither of those were anywhere near acceptable to me. I knew my third path would be unthinkable to her. Far from desperately trying to keep her behaviour secret, I intended to let the world know. Far from being embarrassed, my only fault, as I could see it, was loving Donna to the point of complete naivety.
The meeting was arranged for tonight. I’d invited her parents, my parents, all our friends and neighbours, some of her work mates and even other parents from the kid’s sports groups. I’d booked a small hall for the 60 or so people and even organised catering. I had initially wanted to shield the kids from the hurt but Donna forced my hand by making me responsible for keeping them away from the house until 6PM. I took off from work early and picked them up from school. We killed some time by going to a local burger joint.
I was at a bit of a loss on how to broach the subject with them and I guess I must have dithered a bit. I need not have worried as Kate broke the silence. With a glance at John she opened.
“Dad, is this about mum cheating on you?”
I bruised my jaw as it bounced off the table. Recovering, I just nodded.
“We wondered how long it would take you to find it out.”
They then went on to reluctantly explain to me how they’d come home unexpectedly, more than once, to find their mum busy. They’d never seen anything apart from a guy leaving once, but the noises were self-explanatory. Interestingly they didn’t know about the DVDs. They thought that every time the bedroom door was closed and their mum screamed, there was a guy involved. I explained the real deal. They both looked sick when I explained that I’d found out about it and the reason I’d picked them up today was that Donna had announced her intentions and told me to keep them busy until she was finished.
Kate tearfully explained how three months ago she had confronted her mother and begged her to stop. Her mum had seemed very embarrassed and worried. She had promised to call it all off in return for Kate not telling me. She had taken her mum at her word and assumed it was all over and the danger of family destruction averted.
Both kids cried and assured me that they had been trying to find an opportunity to tell me until the confrontation three months ago, but never raised the courage. They accepted that no normal man could condone her behaviour and almost eagerly agreed to accompany me tonight. Ironically their presence was very reassuring.
With late comers, the meeting didn’t start till almost 7.30PM. No one had a clue why they were there. After everyone was fed and seated I launched into my PowerPoint presentation. To say everyone was stunned was an understatement. I asked the kids to leave the room when I showed still photos from the DVDs. I only showed the bare minimum to get the point across that Donna was a serial offender. Several of the audience recognised travelling reps who dealt with their own businesses. By and large, it was less embarrassing than I had anticipated.
I waited for the clamour to die down after my presentation ended. They were well beyond stunned when I told them that even though I was now aware of her activities, Donna had done it again that day. They all nodded vigorously when I explained what I intended doing. Reg was a great help and support. I had worded him up last week. Two of the neighbourhood single ladies, one widow and one divorcee were extremely friendly. The ones who took it hardest were Donna’s parents of course. They wouldn’t stop apologising. They were also worried about what effect this would all have on the kids and offered what support they could.
Donna’s father was the last to leave. Everyone else had drifted away, a strategic few with copies of the presentation. He wanted to know if there was any hope for our marriage. Two days ago I wouldn’t have hesitated in saying no. Then yesterday I realised that Donna had to be really sick in the head and my vows meant I should support her. If only the crime hadn’t been so horrific. So, in answer to her father’s question, I was honest and explained that if Donna showed full remorse for her actions and could prove she suffered from some diagnosed condition and sought treatment then I may reconsider my plan. I doubted this was the case though. Our family doctor had been sitting in the second row. Surely he would have said something.
Donna resumes
By 6.45PM dinner was ready and I was wondering where everyone was. Calls to Dave’s, John’s and Kate’s mobiles all went unanswered. I rang Kate and John’s friend’s place, where they normally went on Thursday afternoons. No answer. I rang both my and Dave’s parent’s home phones and mobiles. No answer on any of them. I rang Janet. She called me a bitch and hung up on me. What was all that about?
At last, in desperation, I drove around to all our popular haunts. They were nowhere to be seen.
I returned home at just after 10PM. Dave’s car was in the driveway and the basement door was again locked. I looked in on the kids and they both seemed asleep. Wondering where the hell they’d been I returned downstairs. I noticed the laptop was just inside the front door. Firing it up, a slide entitled. ‘Discussion’, was displayed. I hit the escape button and a series of photographs was displayed down the left hand side of the screen. Clicking on one with mounting dread, I stared at the ensuing full screen photo. It was one of clearly me with my ass just as clearly impaled on a cock, again clearly not belonging to my husband. I repeated this twice more to reveal two more photos showing my, and different men’s faces. The third photo was from the dreaded disc 11. That day I’d brought two guys home. Stupid me, but it had always been my favourite fantasy. I’d been busy cowgirling one guy when the other one pushed me forwards and roughly entered my ass. Now I normally love anal, but this just made me feel cheap. I screamed at them to stop but was helpless as the guy behind me continued to ass rape me. Luckily he didn’t last long. After he’d finished, he held my arms while the other guy roughly sodomised me as well. It was horrible and put me off my trips for two months. Maybe because being forced was my second favourite fantasy, I kept the disc but hardly ever watched it, keeping it for my more moody days. It did occur to me that the video showed evidence of me being raped that I could take to the police but that would expose me to Dave amongst others.
It suddenly became clear to me where Dave had been all evening. But surely he wouldn’t ‘out’ himself would he. Publically declare his cuckoldry to the world. I agreed with Janet. That would be social suicide for a high profile community member such as Dave. But what else could it mean? I was staggered to the point of confusion. How could Dave disrespect me by airing our dirty laundry in public? Shit, if he kept things up at this rate, he was in danger of losing me. Then an insidious thought struck me. To this point I had only considered the effect of public exposure on Dave. Who had he told? Most people who heard that a girl had slept with 28 guys in three years would think she was a slut. They didn’t know the full story. They didn’t know I was just scratching an itch, in a very discrete manner, to save my marriage.
Numb, I went to bed. All I could think of was, why had Dave done this? If he didn’t care about being publically humiliated then the only thing holding our marriage together was his fear of losing his house, his kids and the nest egg we’d worked so hard to accumulate. What if he showed the same callous disregard for those as well? For the first time I considered the possibility that my marriage was in serious trouble. I think I finally got to sleep at around 4AM.
I awoke extremely groggy at 8.15 the next morning. The laptop was where I had left it last night and the house was empty. Staggering through my morning routine I managed to get to work only 15 minute late. I was in such a rush that I didn’t even realise that the first two people I bid good morning didn’t respond. I sat at my desk and started typing the work I had left unfinished on Wednesday. It wasn’t until morning tea that I noticed anything odd. Some of the other girls were as friendly as usual but others ignored me completely. Putting it down to Fridayitis, I didn’t worry too much about it.
At lunch, I went to the sandwich shop where my friends could always be found. None of them were there. I ate a lonely lunch. I rang three of them but no one picked up. Thinking nothing of it, I went back to work. This time the atmosphere was noticeably different. Absolutely no one acknowledged my return. One of the bosses came out an hour later and stared around the silent room with confusion. He dropped some hand written notes in my inbox then returned to his office. I tried to start conversations with my neighbours but they just kept typing.
Confused, I went home at the end of the day. The house was again empty. No people, no cars. Wandering around, I noticed that all the camping gear was missing. I loved camping and for the other three to go without me was a low blow. There was no answer to anyone’s mobile. With Janet apparently gone as a friend for some reason, I started ringing my other friends. The first two didn’t answer but the husband of the third did. We chatted for a few minutes then he said he would get his wife. After two minutes he returned and rather coldly said his wife wasn’t available and hung up. It was rather strange.
Suddenly realising the opportunity I had been handed I went to the closet and retrieved my collection. I chose number 18, always one of my favourites. This guy was good at everything and with a nine inch cock to go with it. Slipping it into the player I lay on the bed. I knew I wouldn’t even need a vibrator for this one. I watched the on screen me being stripped, while in the here and now I slowly circled my clit with my finger. After watching this one so many times, I knew how to pace myself to cum when my on screen persona did. He had licked me to two orgasms to start with before pinning my arms above my head and mounting me. That led to another two. The fifth happened after he’d blown all over my breasts then returned to licking me. The last was after he had challenged me. He said that no woman had ever been able to take him in her ass. I thought his skill needed rewarding so accepted the challenge. It was by far the biggest thing I’d ever had in there. It took a good 10 minutes to get him in fully. The combination of the delicious pain and him reaching around to frig me sent me over the edge.
But that was in the past. In the here and now, things weren’t happening. I re-started the movie and grabbed my favourite vibe. Still, the on screen me was going into her second orgasm while I wasn’t even fully built up for my first. I found myself closing my eyes and thinking of Dave licking me. For all this guy’s talents, Dave was still the best cunnilinguist I’d ever met. In fact he was pretty good at everything this guy was except the anal. Anal was for lovers, not husbands. I didn’t demand my lovers respect me, just fuck the shit out of me. Every time I thought of Dave my building orgasm lapsed. It briefly rallied when I thought of Dave and I both watching the movie together, but then reality spoiled that as well.
I gave up after a while and just slept. Eventually. The next day I tried again with number 23. The return of Mr nine inches. It was like all the magic powers had been sucked out of the movies. In utter frustration and disgust, I gave up. After a shower I decided to go and visit my mum. She’d always been good to unload on. On the drive over I decided how much to tell her. She was fairly old fashioned, so I knew I would have to be economical with the truth.
What happened was shocking beyond imagination. Dad answered the door and while I greeted him he looked around as if no one was there. Then to my horror he backed inside again and closed the door in my face. Seeing movement out the corner of my eye I turned to see mum looking out the curtains. Tears were streaming down her face. All I could do was stumble back to my car. Slumped over the steering wheel, I not only glimpsed my future, but had a sudden insight into a part of Dave’s mind I’d never suspected even existed. I sensed the determination, resolve and courage it must have taken to tell anybody, including my parents.
Desperately I rang my brother, no answer. I tried my sister. She answered but hung up as soon as I said hello. In a town of 5,000 people it should have been impossible to be alone but Dave had managed to make it so. In 24 hours, none of my friends or family had spoken to me and only my mum had looked at me. I returned home and cried myself asleep.
With a brainwave, I awoke Sunday morning. There was somewhere I could go where they had to accept me. I dressed for church. The pastor was greeting people at the door as usual. He pulled me to one side.
“Donna my girl, as painful as it is for me to say this, today you are not welcome. Several parishioners have made it known that if you go into this church, they will leave. I’m sorry but I have to prioritise the needs of the many over the needs of the few. My daughter, please feel free to come back later and I will gladly hear your confession.”
With this ultimate humiliation I fled. My memory is blank on what I did for the next few hours but I did go back to church. Father Riley suggested we talk outside the environs of the confessional and we sat on one of the pews. I admitted to the sin of adultery without going into specifics. I was just now starting to glimpse the enormity of my crimes and was having trouble admitting them even to myself. The Reverend Father waited until I clearly wasn’t going to add any more before speaking.
“You know my daughter, before you come back to truly confess your sins, you need to complete two tasks. The first is, you must decide to admit all your transgressions. Not only to god but to yourself. The second is you must be truly remorseful. Only then should you seek absolution. I must add that even then I have my doubts. If only a fraction of what I am told is true then you may be grossly guilty of the deadly sin of lust. As you know the deadly sins irretrievably corrupt body and soul and are above my powers of absolution.”
Whether or not he kept talking I don’t know. When I came to my senses, I was back home. Every way I turned, the enormity of what I had so blithely done, tried to break through my protective delusions. One thing I did know was that if Dave was resolved enough to tell all the people he obviously had, then he wouldn’t hesitate for a second dissolving our marriage. With a new resolve I went into damage control mode. I determined to see a lawyer tomorrow. Going on line to get our latest bank balances they seemed too low. Getting the latest statements out of the filing cabinet, I quickly discovered that about half of the money was missing.
Strangely, this discovery that Dave was a step ahead of me triggered not anger, but a grim determination to save my marriage. I couldn’t let Dave’s stubbornness ruin our children’s future happiness. I decided to accept some of the blame for our estrangement and throw myself on his mercy.
The return of Dave
I wouldn’t call it a relaxed camping trip but we had managed to have a little fun. On the drive home, I tried to talk John and Kate into being more generous to their mother, but they were both old enough to have very strong views. Giving up, I explained my thought process and found it very cathartic. If their mother showed deep remorse for her actions and the flagrant disrespect she had shown us, I would convince her to seek help. If after treatment, a professional could convince me she had a recognised disorder and equally convince me she was now cured, then I would reluctantly consider forgiving her. After all, I had vowed before god, to support her in sickness and in health. If she was sick then I owed her compassion and not wrath. I for one took vows very seriously.
With some trepidation, but also a faint glimmer of hope, we pulled into the garage and entered the front door. The kids carried their bags straight upstairs past a wild eyed Donna. If I hadn’t known her almost half her life I might have walked past in the street without recognising her. She came up and plastered herself against me. I felt very uncomfortable but the only way I could disengage would be to push her like I had on day one. That was unforgivable. After she finished sobbing she spoke.
“I’m so sorry darling. So sorry that you found out.”
Completely ignorant of my sudden rigidity, she continued.
“Of course, if you can’t handle them, I will stop my trips out of town.”
This was so far from what I had hoped for that I was struck dumb and incapable of moving.
“Please come upstairs and we can watch one of the movies, or more if you like. Let me show you that I didn’t give one piece of myself emotionally to anyone but you. Then make love to me and show me that we’ll be all right…please.”
They say that every man has a breaking point and this was mine. The final straw. Roughly pushing Donna away, I turned and fled into the basement fighting the sudden urge for violence that threatened to consume me.
A confused Donna
Dave’s reaction staggered me. I’d given it my best shot. After a minute to compose myself I went up to see how the kid’s weekend had been. They were behind locked doors and refused to answer my knocking. God no, Dave had got to them as well. I was so frustrated I just wanted to scream. I cried myself to sleep again.
The next morning I was up just in time to see Dave leaving. He had made the kids breakfast and lunches. They were obviously both bolting their breakfasts to get out of there. John had a neutral expression as he ignored my existence. Kate at least had a tear in her eye as she did. She hung back slightly as John left and with pleading eyes, spoke.
“Mum, please go and get help for your illness before it’s too late.”
“What! What are you talking about? What illness?”
She just shook her head sadly and turned away. That was the last I saw of them that week. I figured they went to stay at Dave’s parent’s place and I knew I would get no sympathy there.
Following my morning routine I turned on the coffee machine to warm it up. There was a letter propped against it which simply had ‘Donna’ on the front. I couldn’t not open it.
Donna
Up until last night I was prepared to try to save our marriage for the sake of the children and the promise I gave you on our wedding day. Then you revealed that the gulf between my expectations and your state of mind is so wide as to be untraversable.
A successful partnership is based on the tripod stool of love, trust and respect. Damage one of those and the sitter lands on their ass, but sometimes the tripod can be repaired. You destroyed all three legs. You obviously don’t love me or you couldn’t do what you have done. The opposite of love is hate. You obviously hate me otherwise you couldn’t have destroyed me as effectively as you did.
The opposite of respect is contempt. By your actions you have shown your contempt for me, for our family, for our wedding vows and for my health. How I haven’t picked up an STD from you is a miracle. It should be impossible to lie to someone you respect. You seem to think I should condone your adultery even to the point of watching your movies with you. You should know me well enough to realise that I believe that any man who enjoys watching his wife with another man cannot possibly retain either the respect of his wife or his self-respect. You further showed your contempt for me by entertaining the idea that you could threaten me with public exposure.
Trust I just won’t go into. You are so far removed from the person I thought you were, that I could never trust you again.
Donna, as you know, I am a generous man. Therefore I choose to believe that you are suffering some sort of mental issues. A sane person would have recognised your actions as very wrong and shown some remorse. You haven’t. I talked to my lawyer and our doctor about getting you committed or forcibly into treatment, but drew a blank. Therefore I urge you to seek treatment for yourself. Judge yourself, not by your values of today, but by my Donna’s values of three years ago.
As you by now no doubt understand, I removed the threat of you exposing me as a serial cuckold by exposing myself. I revealed this to our immediate circle of friends, family and acquaintances and gave them the permission and ammunition the spread the word. The only other weapon you have is the threat of taking our children, house and assets away from me. I will need the house and assets to look after our children when I completely expunge you from our lives to remove them from the threat of your poisonous sickness. To this end I have locked up our finances and you should be served with papers today to remove you from our lives. It is my fervent hope that you remove yourself completely from our lives and only return when you have been cured. At that stage the three of us will judge your recovery with optimism. Please go quietly. You have fucked up your life and my life but there is still hope for John and Kate.
Please understand that I don’t take these actions lightly. I was willing to work with you until last night when I had to make a decision. As you know I reduce life to simple tasks. In its simplest form, my job is to feed, shelter and protect my offspring and you in that order. I now find myself in the horrible position of having to protect my children from you and your deranged influence. You will find out over the next week or so that I will stop at nothing to protect them.
Dave
Well, what was all that shit? Of course I still loved, trusted and respected Dave. Why does he think I’m hanging around putting up with all the cold shoulder crap? Wasn’t I giving him the space to come out of his funk? It sounded like our marriage was in a little trouble though, but nothing that couldn’t be sorted out by him talking to me. I suddenly swung around when I heard a voice behind me yelling, “Snap out of it!” There was no one there. Confused, I wondered why it had sounded like my voice.
I knew I was burying my head in the sand as I busied myself getting ready for work. When I arrived this time, absolutely no one acknowledged me. I emptied my inbox and waited for more work. The other girls were busy and there was a constant stream of work going into their inboxes. Mine remained empty. I tried to get the attention of the next manager that came out with work, but he sailed right past me.
To make a point, I sat there and read the paper. Half way through there was a notice that Reginald Smith would from this day forth, no longer be held responsible for debts incurred by Janet Smith. So Janet’s marriage was on the rocks as well for some reason.
When I went into the lunch room to eat my sandwich, everyone else left. This childishness was getting annoying. It was a long boring afternoon. I went straight home at 5PM. True to his word, Dave’s process server was waiting for me. With an air of detachment, I read the papers. 24 hours to leave the premises, blah, blah, blah. Sole custody of the children and control of the assets, blah, blah, blah. He did agree to cover all my reasonable expenses especially medical ones. There he goes with that fucking medical shit again. Once again I felt the tug of someone behind me trying to get my attention in a room where I was the only occupant.
I later realised I was incapable of facing reality so I resorted to routine. Realising that it was shopping day I drove to the grocery store. I filled my trolley and hit the checkout. I was third in line so it was a good five minutes before it was my turn to be served. All my stuff was on the belt when the attendant put the ‘checkout closed’ sign up and walked away. I piled everything back in the trolley and lined up again. Exactly the same thing happened. Leaving my stuff on the belt, I went to the duty manager’s station. He ignored every word I said. Angry and embarrassed I stormed out.
Dave was home when I got back. I ranted and raved at him. It was all his fault. He ignored me.
That was enough. I rang the solicitor’s office the next day. I explained that they were already representing my husband. The new receptionist told me that because we were a small town then the rules were relaxed so another partner could represent me. There was only one other partner involved in divorces and she would get him to contact me.
I waited by the phone wondering just how generous I would be to David. He certainly didn’t deserve much. The phone rang an hour later. After confirming my identity, the lawyer’s statement was blunt.
“Lady, because I’m a lawyer, my barge pole is 15 foot long compared with the usual 10 foot. Still I wouldn’t touch you with it. Goodbye.”
I walked out of work and nobody seemed to care. I wandered around town searching every familiar face I saw for some sign of recognition or empathy. One girl I knew started coming towards me but her friend dragged her away by the arm.
I went into three shops but again it was as if I was a ghost. Without conscious thought I found myself outside THE bar. Desperate for human contact I went in and sat. I shouldn’t have been surprised when the barman, who I’d become a good acquaintance of, ignored me.
Finally a guy came and started chatting me up. Obviously an out of towner. Relieved to find someone who obviously thought I actually existed, I started bending his ear. Five minutes in, he offered to buy me a drink. I gratefully accepted. I watched as he went up to the bar. The barman leaned in and talked to him. They spoke for about four minutes, with the traveller glancing often at me. It was so embarrassing. Finally the traveller headed out the door and disappeared. With the end of my last hope, I followed shortly afterwards and walked back into town. Picking up my car, I drove away. I vaguely remember trying to ring my mother but after six rings it rang off before going to messages.
The next thing I knew I am waking in my car. Out the window I saw a rising sun and open green fields. I had no idea where I was but it is obviously a long way from home. The nightmare that roused me came flooding back. I shuddered. In my dream I’d been in bed being hammered by a faceless stranger. It was an extremely un-erotic scene. Around the room stood Dave, my kids, mum and dad, all my friends and co-workers, even one of my managers. They are all shaking their heads in condemnation. One figure finally approached the bed. With shock, I recognised a younger me. She pointed some sort of weapon at my partner and he disappeared. Embarrassed, I closed my legs.
The younger me held out her hand and Dave took it. They both smiled down at me. They looked like the perfect couple, I was jealous. My alter ego spoke.
“Good, now I finally have your attention, listen. There are two possibilities here. The first is that Dave and your children are wrong. That makes your parents, friends, co-workers and everyone else here wrong as well. The other possibility is……….”
“That I am wrong,” I finished for her. She nodded. As one, the rest of the crowd nodded with her.
With that, the last of my delusions evaporated. I finally saw myself as the others did.
It was not a pretty sight.
“Doctor, I think that was when my insanity began.”
“Very good Donna. I am very happy with your progress. There are just a few more tests and if you pass them, I think we can recommend to the board that you be released next month. That will be two months short of three years since you came here.”
“Has it really been that long Doctor Mike?”
“Yes Donna, it has. Now Donna, this is as far as we have ever been in your treatment. So tell me, where do you think you would like to live when you return to the outside world?”
“Why I’ll move back in with Dave and the kids silly. I bet the house is a mess and the kids are feral. Dave just wouldn’t be able to cope without me to organise everything.”
The Senior Resident shut his eyes for about six times longer than a normal blink. Why could he never get past this point?
“No Donna, that won’t be possible remember.”
“Why on earth not Doctor. Dave still loves me doesn’t he?”
“Don’t you remember Donna? Dave visited a month ago. He brought his new wife with him, Julia, surely you remember that?”
Mike sighed and pressed the intercom button. Shouting over the hysterical screams, he said, “Barney, bring the jacket in please.”
He’d had high hopes for the direct approach this time. He really did. What could he try next time?
The end
The challenge I set myself was to write an absolutely loathsome character but still have you feel a little sorry for them. How did I go?
Yes I know Donna went from being remorseful for cheating to, it was all justified and Dave’s fault. Some people react to extreme guilt by stupid rationalisation and self-delusion.
My US cultural attaché, Nancy, tells me that citizens of that country won’t get the meaning of the phrase ‘Sent to Coventry’. The origins of the phrase are lost in the mists of history but the technique is devastating. I’ve seen it used to good effect. It is a social punishment truly cruel in its usage. The person ‘Sent to Coventry’ is shunned, ignored, their very existence denied. For humans, who are by their nature social animals, the effects are catastrophic.
I have only seen it used once. I was working on a huge civil project in the UK. The crews were divided into Irish ones that did all the dangerous labouring and English ones that did all the skilled jobs. I was working for the client and crossed national boundaries. One day I saw an Englishman put in an all Irish crew. The Irish crew sent the newcomer to Coventry. They didn’t look at him, talk to him or in any way acknowledge his existence. If they went from A to B and he was in the way, they simply walked through him. With their bodies pushing him aside or even over. The poor prick lasted a week, then disappeared. He was replaced by an Irishman and everyone was happy. It was truly cruel to watch.
Now lighten up.
Two blondes are sitting on the beach in California looking at the full moon. Blonde 1 says, “Which do you think is closer, the moon or New York?” Blonde 2 replies, “Der, can you see New York?”
Yesterday was both the proudest and most embarrassing of my life. I picked up a girl and we were going for it. I was amazed when she had an orgasm that lasted about 20 minutes. How the fuck was I supposed to know she was an epileptic.
The author