FAITHFUL: VAN1 ALTERNATIVE ENDING TO THE CLASSIC BY KCFirst

Written by Vandemonium1

Edited by CreativityTakesCourage

As often happens, when reading KCFirst’s fine tale, Faithful’, an alternate ending sprang to mind which I thought was reasonably original. I sought KC’s permission and, generous soul that he is, he approved. You’ll need to read his first, at least until near the end of page 1.

Click here to go to KCFirst’s story: https://classic.literotica.com/s/faithful-1

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LAST PARAGRAPH FROM KCFirst

Lying in bed, I kept wondering how Molly could think, that after this weekend, she and I could just magically resume our loving relationship. All I could assume is that their four-year emotional affair, without it being a sexual affair, has them thinking that the world owes them, and everyone will understand their needs.

VANDY FROM HERE

But then as I lay there the ceiling light seemed to penetrate my chest, accusing me and forcing my focus inward. I questioned my own behavior. Why, after all the emotional slaps in the face Molly had dished out, was I still here? I’d had my suspicions, four years’ worth, confirmed. Physical or emotional, did it really matter what type of affair they’d been having?

I had the car keys. No one was standing between me and the exit. I realized that despite the years of doubt over her fidelity, I’d loved my wife for so long and so deeply that the process of falling out of love would take some time. My heart wasn’t like a faucet; I couldn’t turn it off and on at will.

Maybe nothing was happening. After all, I hadn’t actually seen anything untoward apart from John and Molly holding hands. Could this be a test or a wind-up? Would I get up in the morning to a rousing, “April Fool”, and smiles all round.

Even as the thought ran through my head, I realized I was emotionally grasping at straws. The enormity of what my wife was doing to me was just too hard to swallow, too terrible for my brain to accept. I was riding the rollercoaster between hope and despair.

At one of the low points, I cursed Gail. Why should she be able to blot this out as something happening miles away while I had it thrust in my face. Why should she get the comfort of familiar surroundings while I was in a strange bed a mere door or two away? She’d fucking enabled it, after all. Right then the idea of sharing the suffering seemed mighty attractive.

I leapt out of bed, and wearing just my boxer shorts, opened my bedroom door, taking no particular precautions. There were three bedrooms upstairs and I was in the first one, I noticed the door to the middle one was open. As I strode down the corridor, Larry stepped into the frame of the open door. As I drew nearer, I noticed the chair he’d been sitting in was positioned just inside his and Janet’s room. He assessed me and what he saw made him step into the center of the corridor, arms folded on his chest, biceps bulging. He shook his head at me. Now words were spoken. None were necessary. I retreated to our room. 

Our room. What a joke. Apart from entering it to dump one of her suitcases, freshen up in the bathroom, and relocate her main bag to her lover’s room, Molly hadn’t been in it.

The tenseness of the whole evening was getting to my bladder, so I went into the bathroom to unload. I glanced around. All good quality fittings, clean, with his and her vanities. I looked at the one where Molly had earlier laid out some of her stuff and noticed an unfamiliar small, black box, similar to the ones you get jewelry in. With a sinking heart, I finished urinating, re-buttoned my boxers, and eyed the box balefully while washing my hands. I both wanted to confirm its contents and remain blissfully unaware. In the end the need to know won and I reached for the box.

My rage was instant, like flame to fuel, when I saw what was inside. Molly’s wedding and engagement rings. It was then that the scope of my ambush was made plain to me. This tryst, fiasco, shit, I didn’t know what to call it, had been weeks in planning. Long enough for Molly to decide that when she cuckolded me it would be without her rings, and she’d need somewhere to store them.

I was so angry it was like a thunder and lightning storm was happening inside my head. But still, fifteen years of loving someone like I love Molly was a hard habit to kick. My fury slid off her and focused on the organizer of this weekend from hell, the enabler, the bitch, Gail. If she’d recognized the feelings between the lovebirds, why didn’t she just sit her husband down and say, “No fucking way, stay away from the bitch.” Why didn’t she insist that John have Molly reassigned? Sacked? Or, if not that, why didn’t she alert me? Sure, I had had suspicions but she, clearly, had had something far more concrete to work with.

To organize this weekend then remain away, emotionally sheltered was just out and out cowardice. With a focus for my rage, I finally started planning. I meant to rip through that isolationism and thrust Gail into my arena, the full flesh 3D experience of betrayal.

With Larry standing guard, the corridor approach to John and Molly’s room was out. I strode to the huge window that looked out over the inner courtyard pool. It was already open, so I stuck my head out. A tiled awning stretched past my room to the end of the house, flat enough to be safe to walk on. Hell, the way I was feeling, I’d have been prepared to crawl. I picked up the shirt I’d thrown on the floor and stuck my cell phone in the pocket before climbing as quietly as I could out the window.

I paused at the edge of the window of Larry and Janet’s room. The curtains were open. I peered carefully inside and the scene of domestic bliss only served to fuel my anger. Janet was sitting up in the bed, reading a book by the light of the bedside lamp. Larry was reading a magazine while sitting in a small but comfy looking armchair positioned just inside the open door. I wanted to scream at them both but that would only give me momentary release. Taking a slow, deep breath, I uncurled my fists and sidled silently past their room.

The next window, however, made what I’d felt looking in on Larry and Janet seem little more than a tantrum. The window of my destination ripped away any delusions I may have held. Tore them up, threw them on the floor, then spit and pissed on them. 

It was a warm night and they’d left the window wide open. How convenient. Did they hope I’d hear them? John and Molly had also left the bedside lamp on. The whole scene was playing out a mere eight feet from the window. She was on her back with her legs spread. From my position, I could see the spider veins on her outer thighs that she was so self-conscious about. Not that John seemed to mind; he was between them with his buttocks languidly rising and falling.

John alternated between bending himself to tongue the nipple on one of her elfin-like, little B-cup breasts, then going higher for a full-on lip lock with my wife. Cynically, I wondered if she’d make an exception for her beloved John and ride him cowgirl style with the lights on because she certainly never would for me. Oh no, couldn’t have me, her stupid husband, see her tiny breasts in an unflattering position. I somehow swallowed my rage, again transferring it to Gail, as I took out my phone and began recording.

I was easily close enough to hear every whisper and squelch. Slurp on left breast, tongue duel, slurp on right breast. Her whispering her love for him. Extended tongue lock as his buttocks sped up their pace. Her guttural groan of, “Come on, darling, I want to feel your seed splashing deep inside me.” His grunting and her beatific smile as she didn’t come but obviously loved the fact he did. I couldn’t stand to watch any more. This was love I was witnessing and one of the participants was supposed to give me everything she had to give.

Stopping the recording, I walked carefully back to my window and climbed in. Before the rage consumed rational thought, I packaged up the video clip and soon it was winging its way to Gail. Misery loves company, don’t they say?

That still didn’t dent my anger enough and the idea of staying two doors from where my wife was making love to her other soulmate was an anathema. I quickly dressed, packed my suitcase, and pocketed the ring box I’d spied earlier and made for the stairs. Ever alert, Larry once again blocked the corridor between my room and John’s, but he quickly relaxed when he saw where I was headed. As I reached the top of the stairs, I turned to look at him. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, almost in salute, which spoke volumes. ‘You’re doing what I would do in impossible circumstances’, that nod said.

I made a racket going down the stairs and as I passed one of the downstairs bedrooms the door opened, and a nightgown clad Jacki looked out at me.

“I was just going to come up and see you…, are you leaving?”

“There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

“Me either and I’ve already been paid, can I grab a lift back to town with you?”

I just nodded, dragged my suitcase to our car, loaded it, then waited for a fully dressed Jacki to appear with her overnight bag.

We rode in silence for the first ten miles before the quiet became too much for the young escort.

“They told me you were on board with their scheme, you weren’t, were you?”

I told her my thoughts on being ambushed and shared with her my conflict of not knowing where the hell my marriage was going, she seemed to feel guilty for her part in it, but I assured her I apportioned no blame to her. She then told me her life story. She was from a broken home but had a dream of becoming a business major but with no personal wealth and no access to scholarships she’d very reluctantly decided to trade on her looks to get her qualifications without a crippling student loan. She even explained her techniques for emotionally separating herself from the acts she had to perform for her tuition. She seemed like a really nice person doing what she had to do to make ends meet. At least she had goals.

We were pulling into my town before I remembered to ask where I could drop her off. It was then she revealed she lived twenty miles in the opposite direction. Exhausted from a very emotionally and physically draining day, I offered to keep going but she suggested that if I had a spare room, she was willing to stay with me and get a friend to pick her up the next day, or, should I say, later that same day. Relieved, I kept going to my house, showed her the spare room, stripped, and collapsed exhausted into my bed.

I have no idea how much later it was that I half awoke to the sensation of a set of warm lips engulfing my cock. Molly knew this was my favorite way of being woken and the events of the previous evening never entered my exhausted, sleep befuddled brain. I just relaxed, grabbed a handful of hair with each hand and went along for the ride. Even the fact that the invisible lips managed to hit the root of my eight-inch cock, a feat my wife never managed, didn’t rouse me to full wakefulness and I was soon unloading straight into the willing throat, which accepted all my load, something that Molly had always refused to do. Slowing down expertly but not disengaging until the last drop was gone, I dragged the tight body up until I was folded around her back and drifted back to full sleep.

The sun was streaming into my marital bedroom when I next roused. I became aware that each of my hands were cupping a soft creamy breast, much larger than they usually fondled. An unfamiliar perfume came to my rousing sense of smell, and my reawakening eyes took at the red hair right in front of them. The fantastic, dreamlike experience of the previous night screamed into my consciousness. Jacki.

I disentangled myself carefully, then went to relieve my bladder. My earlier words to Jacki, reverberated in my head, “You’re tempting; but I’m not going to help Molly shatter our wedding vows. Molly will have to do that all by herself.” Seems I was going to help Molly, after all, and worse, I wasn’t feeling guilty.

Jacki was waiting at the door as I headed back to the bed and went into the smallest room in the house that I’d just vacated. The sounds of a glass being filled then replaced followed her bladder evacuation. I was lying in the bed when she reappeared to stand at the foot of it.

Even first thing in the morning she looked like a goddess as she looked down at me uncertainly. I’m no expert, but her breasts looked like a big C or small D, with the perfect shape common to women who hadn’t been subjected to an extra decade-and-a-half of gravity or the rigors of pregnancy and breastfeeding. The nipples, prominent in the cool morning air, pointed proudly at the ceiling. My eyes travelled south, pausing to take in the smooth, pale, unblemished skin of her torso. Molly had always been a sun worshipper, baking herself to a crisp at every opportunity. Her belly was always brown. Perhaps that was why seeing the creamy whiteness of Jacki’s flesh looked exotic to me. My gaze continued its journey, all the way down to a completely shaved cleft. Seeing the direction of my stare, Jacki did a little pirouette, blessing me with the sight of perfectly shaped feminine buttocks atop a slender waist. Again, the contrast to Molly hit me. Molly had a great body in a boyish, athletic way but she wasn’t sexy. Not Jacki-sexy, anyway.

Jacki then stood still, awaiting my next move. I simply pulled the top sheet aside, inviting her back. With a beaming smile, she joined me back in the bed, nestling her head in the crook of my shoulder, sliding her dainty hand down my stomach to my twitching cock.

“Good morning, Big Boy,” was aimed at I didn’t know where. Rolling onto my hands and knees, I nuzzled her neck before kissing my way past her armpits, down the curve of her luscious left breast until I reached a nipple. So soft and plump. So different to what I was used to. I loved it. She gasped and tensed as her nipple responded to my questing tongue. I licked my way down into the generous cleavage and my lips then climbed the delicious canyon to her right nipple. A moan escaped her lips, and I felt her thighs grinding together. Swapping from right to left and back again elicited both gasps of pleasure and groans of disappointment.

After about ten minutes of this I dragged myself away and began sliding my lips and tongue down her incredibly taut yet soft stomach, marveling at the difference in texture of her young skin to what I was used to. Being so fair, Jacki obviously avoided sunbathing. Molly, on the other hand, was a sun worshipper. I never before realized how profound the effect of the sun could be on skin, turning soft and silky into smooth but leathery.

Her legs spread wide as my tongue approached her center and her waist arched off the bed as I passed over her sex with just a gentle blow before licking my way down her inner thigh to kiss her dainty ankle and foot. Reversing direction, I repeated the gentle blow as I passed her cleanly shaven sex and down the other leg. I did this several times until my head was hijacked by a pair of insistent hands pushing my questing tongue to her most sensitive spot. I marveled at the wetness and the sweetest taste as I used all my skills on her secret opening and throbbing clitoris. She cried out her release as her thighs performed a spirited attempt to squash my head.

Mimicking what I knew my wife liked, I stretched out behind the young woman and enfolded her in my arms. Between gasps she whispered that clients normally didn’t do loving things like I’d just done. I held her as she came down from her climax, my erection throbbing into her to-die-for buttocks.

Once she’d calmed down a little, she fully returned the favor, licking my thighs, my stomach, my balls, until I could take no more. Sensing the perfect moment, her tongue travelled from my balls, up the underside of my shaft until she was licking the underside of the head. I looked down into her sparkling green eyes as her lips parted and slowly engulfed the mushroom head of my cock and just kept going. Once again, I could feel my cock nudging the back of her throat. I have no idea how long she kept this gentle rhythm up, but it was the most incredibly exciting thing I’d ever done. Jacki was in no hurry, though, and took her time milking me again into her willing mouth. It was incredible.

I must have fallen into near unconsciousness afterwards because when I roused again, Jacki was handing me a tray with coffee, and a plate of bacon and eggs. I sat up, she disappeared and returned with her own tray. We ate in bed, chatting away like old friends, and full of great sex endorphins, I only vaguely thought of my wife. Even then the thoughts were along the lines of, ‘I’ve only got another twenty-four hours of this goddess before it’s back to my own age group for my cock.’

After brunch, Jacki announced she needed a shower and invited me to join her. I suggested a soak in the whirlpool tub instead which she happily accepted. We were in there for several hours, luxuriating, grooming each other, and discussing my business. She impressed me with her knowledge and made several suggestions for improvement ideas. I tentatively asked her if she was interested in interning for us during the upcoming summer break. She jumped at the chance. I didn’t say anything but decided to pay her well enough so she could make it through the following year without debasing herself.

Finally, when we’d exhausted all the hot water, we dried each other and returned to the bedroom where she demonstrated another of her skills. Grabbing the massage oil, she instructed me to lay on the bed where she gave me an expert back rub that eradicated any tension that remained, then she flipped me over and began work on my front. She was straddling my stomach and teasing my raging cock with her buttocks, when I slid my arms under her legs and hefted her upwards until her sweet, dripping pussy, complete with engorged lips, was hovering directly over my mouth. I basically didn’t move my lips and tongue, letting her glide wherever she needed attention. Her movements became more and more frenzied until she once again screamed her release at the ceiling. I gently pushed her off so I could breathe again.

A little more assertive and selfish this time, I didn’t allow her time to relax but rolled her onto her back and gently entered her for the first time. I was super excited, so maybe a little bigger than was the norm of late, but that didn’t explain how hard I had to press to enter the tight twenty-one-year-old pussy. Memories of when Molly was the same age flooded in as the hot, tight tunnel squeezed my cock. It was fucking incredible.

Jacki reached up and pulled my head down for a tender kiss and I undulated my buttocks slowly in and out, too scared to speed up in case I embarrassed myself within seconds. Jacki just kept kissing me as she clenched her pelvic floor muscles. I was in fucking heaven. In one break between kisses, Jacki grabbed a breast in each hand and guided the nipples into my mouth. Then she returned to kissing me before wrapping her legs around my back, squeezing and crying, “Fuck meeeeeeee.”

I couldn’t believe the vigor of her youth as she tensed and came on my cock as I unloaded into her. I felt like John Holmes and Hercules rolled into one, satisfying this young, beautiful woman. Jacki pulled my face into her neck, showering me with kisses while she whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” in my ear. I tried to roll off her, but she held me tight saying she loved to feel my weight on her.

Thus it was, I heard the sniffle from the doorway and the, “I guess I deserved that.”

Both Jacki and I turned our heads to see a weeping Molly standing in the doorway looking crestfallen. Her right cheek was red, and a black eye was beginning to form under the same eye. Jacki wriggled out from under me, got out of bed and stood protectively between Molly and I. It was comical with her tousled hair and my cum running down her leg. Molly looked her up and down and knowing her as well as I did—though, I guess that was now debatable—I knew she was registering all the things I had. The taut body, soft flawless skin, large, thrusting, gravity defying breasts. She sobbed, turned, and fled.

I, of all people knew the devastation she was feeling, so I shooed Jacki toward the shower and went after my wife, who was sitting in the lounge, sobbing. I asked her if John had dropped her off and she said, no, Larry had. Then she blurted out what had happened after I left the previous night. Strangely, the conversation began with, “That prick, John.”

Apparently, Gail resisted looking at my video clips until the early hours of the morning, then, as she’d thought they might, the scenes of a love expressed, involving her husband, really upset her. It’s one thing to imagine something, entirely something else to see it in full glorious color. The hour-long drive allowed her to work herself into a frenzy. Molly and John were asleep in each other’s arms when the livid Gail stormed into the room.

On reflex, Molly had done the same thing Jacki had just done; jumped out of bed, and interposed herself between her lover and his wife. The now enraged Gail then swatted her out of the way, which explained the bruised face, before she launched herself at her husband, claws extended.

What happened next, seen from Molly’s view from the floor, was bizarre. Janet, followed by her groggy husband, Larry, entered the room. Janet dragged Gail off John, then threw herself protectively over him. None of the onlookers needed to see John’s expression of guilt for everyone present to see what was happening. Janet was protecting the man she loved. Obviously, Molly wasn’t his only lover. They all stared at each other.

Finally, Larry turned to stride out the door, shaking his head in disgust. John extricated himself from Janet and more concerned at the loss of his friend and security guard than his wife, ran after him shouting the age-old refrain of cheaters, “I can explain.”

From Molly’s perspective, John disappeared into the corridor, then reappeared, flying backwards, after a meaty thud was heard. Molly just made it to the front door, holding her clothes, in time for Larry to give her a lift back to town. She understood, by his devastation, what she’d done to me, her own husband. And all for a lowlife, cheating little asshole. She sobbed that she was relieved to have found me in bed with Jacki. The even footing, she thought, stood us in good stead to start married life anew.

By that time, Jacki had reappeared, looking spectacular. I needed to get away to process all the new information. Jacki’s reappearance gave me the perfect excuse—I had to fulfil my promise to take her home.

We stopped for a late lunch when I heard her stomach growling. It was over the meal that she confessed to being a little infatuated with me. She’d had little sexual experience before becoming an escort and the few clients she’d had, she charged $3,000 a night and $5,000 for a weekend, behaved selfishly and treated her like a cum dump. My oral pleasuring of her last night had actually been her first real orgasm. I felt like a stud.

She showed me her tiny flat, in the cheaper end of town, that she shared with another student  who was away for the weekend. The farewell kiss lasted twenty-six hours. It started when I tried to leave on that Saturday afternoon and ended when I actually did leave at 10 p.m. Sunday. By which time, believe me, I had absolutely nothing left in the tank.

The phone calls from Molly started an hour after we left the house on Saturday. When I didn’t answer, she started on Jacki’s number. I finally answered at around midnight Saturday.

“Hello, Molly.”

“Are you with her, Tom?”

“Yes, Molly.”

“That’s not fair, Tom. Please come home.”

“What’s not fair, Molly? You provided me with Jacki’s services for the weekend, the weekend is only half over. You provided her with no conditions or caveats. I’m sorry your plans got derailed but that’s no reason to cut short my time with Jacki.”

The only answer to that was full-on crying.

I was unmoved by her tears. “Oh, and, Molly?”

“Yes, Tom,” came Molly’s sniffled response.

“Thank you.”

I turned my phone off.

By Sunday night I realized that Jacki was a little inexperienced and naïve, but worse, had daddy issues. I left with the assurance that I would stick to my offer of a generous internship the following month and made sure she knew it wasn’t linked to an ongoing sexual arrangement. She looked disappointed at that.

I really didn’t know what was left of my marriage after that. Oh, I had no doubt what Molly thought. She apologized profusely, accepted all the blame was hers and wanted us both to move on.

No, the problem was me. For four years I’d had doubts but now I had a deep-seated mistrust of my wife and knew with certainty that if a particular set of circumstances arose, she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me. Someone who loves two men, by definition, is holding out on them both.

I refused to move from where I’d taken up residency, the spare room, back into the master, despite Molly’s increasingly strident pleading. The door was locked every night.

I think in desperation, Molly walked into the lounge one night as I was watching TV. She was stark naked and grinning at me. She parted her legs, showing me her freshly shaven mound, then did a little turn.

I looked at her. She’d lost weight and was now thinner than ever. I took in the sinewy skin of her arms and legs, the brown leather of her belly, her boyish buttocks, and breasts that despite their smallness, were just beginning to lose their battle with gravity. Previously, I’d looked at her with eyes of love, a beautiful filter. Now, I just saw.

I tried my hardest to keep my face neutral, I really did, I’m not cruel, but something must have alerted Molly. She knew that for an instant I’d compared her to much younger perfection, and she knew she could never compete. Ever.

Grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch, she covered up, turned, and slunk out, knowing our marriage was destroyed and she was the one who destroyed it.

EPILOGUE

Every day the local newspapers updated the whole region on the local sex scandal story. Larry quickly and very loudly resigned, telling the local media exactly why. His children still weren’t talking to their mother. Larry didn’t name names but did tell everyone he’d belted his wife’s lover. The media put that together with a senior manager’s fresh bruises and came to their own conclusions. The company went into damage control, withdrew John’s promotion, and suspended both he and Molly.

The story of Gail pimping out her husband came out around day four with the headline, Cuck Queen Revealed. Too embarrassed to show her once revered face around town, she went to stay with her sister on the other side of the country.  

Molly and I divorced gently and amicably. The last time I saw her, she asked if I could donate sperm, the old-fashioned way, so she could have a baby before it was too late. I refused, countering that she was still young enough to find a new partner and have kids the traditional way. She replied, wryly, ‘Only if I go beyond the reach of my reputation.’

Jacki did come and intern for my company and did very well. We never got together inappropriately after that night at her apartment and the last I heard of her social life she was dating a fellow employee, who, in her own words, was learning to use his tongue almost as good as me.

She must have blabbed around the break room, though, as, suddenly, younger, unattached female employees were dressing more provocatively

POSTSCRIPT

The denigrating of women with time related flaws above was a plot device only and in no way reflects my personal views.

Put it this way, as many times a week as I can I have sex with my 50-something wife. Does she have gravity defying breasts that are covered in taut, unblemished skin? Nope. But is she the most beautiful woman in the world? Shit yeah.

Now lighten the fuck up.

A cardiologist died and was given an elaborate funeral.

A huge heart, decorated with flowers stood behind the casket during the service.

Following the eulogy, the heart opened and the casket rolled inside. The beautiful heart closed, sealing the heart specialist inside, forever.

At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter.

When all eyes turned to stare at him, he said, “I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect but I couldn’t help thinking about my own funeral – I’m a gynaecologist.”

His words were followed by a loud thud.

The proctologist had fainted.