Rape

Jeannie must have taken her purse into the bedroom because she was clutching it against her breasts. I pushed her into the hall and grabbed her elbow so firmly she cried out. Her face was white and she was shaking so hard she almost couldn’t walk. I dragged her down the hall toward the flickering glow of the flames in the fireplace. I carried the ripped clothing in a bundle in my other hand. Several partially-dressed couples moved quickly out of our way when they saw my face.

When we reached the fireplace, I stopped. “Just stand right there, you cheap, lying, adulterous slut!” Several people heard me, and Jeannie turned scarlet as they stared at her. I could smell pussy and cum on her from ten feet away, and I’m sure others could as well. Tears continued to stream down her face.

I lowered the cooking grate, turned the flames up as high as they would go, opened one of the glass doors, and tossed Jeannie’s pantyhose into the fireplace. They twisted on the grill for an instant, then burst into flames. In seconds they were gone. I opened the glass door again and threw in the guy’s shirt. It too flashed brightly and disappeared. His glasses were next. They were plastic, and I could smell them burning as they almost exploded before they were quickly gone.

I burned everything he had been wearing, including his expensive Italian shoes. As they slowly disappeared into ashes, I watched the remains of his wallet rapidly turning to charcoal. I watched one of his keys melt onto the metal grate until it was a shapeless black mass. His watch took a little longer, but it too finally melted into a charred blob and fell off the grate.

I listened to Jeannie’s sobs as I stared at the flames for several minutes after everything had been burned. I could smell the sex on her even though I was standing close to the remains of the clothing I’d burned. I was trying to decide what I would do next, and I was starting to lose control. Thoughts of killing both her and her lover pulled appealingly at me. I thought of stripping her naked and offering her to all of the men in the room. She could be another Vivian. I could burn her clothes and let her figure out how to get home naked. The sounds from a couple fucking somewhere behind me interrupted my perverse ideas for humiliating my unfaithful wife.

Once again I finally regained a modicum of self-control. I turned back to Jeannie. “It’s time to take your sloppy, dripping, fucked cunt back to our happy home, you cheating bitch.” Several people thought this was funny, and they laughed. Jeannie sobbed. I took her by the elbow again and walked her quickly through the house. We exited through the front door into the harsh glare of the outdoor lighting. The temperature was noticeably cooler than it had been a couple of hours before. I unlocked the car and got into the driver’s seat. I started the engine. “If you want to ever go home again, get in.” She was terrified of me, and I waited.

She was crying so hard her nose was running, but she finally opened her door and got in. “I want . . . I want to see my babies!” she whined.

“Tough shit, you cheating bitch. That’s more than you deserve.”

THE NOT SO HAPPY HOME

I drove us home in total, angry silence. When Jeannie tried to say something, I threatened to kill her if she didn’t shut up. Her crying tapered off to sniffling about halfway there. She reeked of sex. In such an enclosed space I could hardly endure the stench, so I made her open her window. The outside air blowing over her damp clothes and wet body was cold enough to make her shiver. “Get used to feeling cold. You haven’t begun to feel how icy things are going to get. I was ready to share your cunt with every man there before I slit your throat. You’re lucky to be alive. Well, maybe not so lucky.” She began to cry again, this time really sobbing. Her entire body was shaking. From fear? From the cold? From shame? I really didn’t care.

I parked in our driveway and turned off the engine. I squeezed my hands around the wheel and listened to the clicking sounds from the engine. I took a couple of deep breaths before I decided what I could manage to endure. Yes, I could let her go into our home without killing her. But it would be difficult, particularly in our bedroom.

“Do something with your face. You really look like shit. And wipe that snot off your nose. Then you pay Katie and send her home. She’ll see the stains all over your clothes. She’ll gag on the fuck-stench than envelops you. She may be young and inexperienced, but she’ll understand that you’re just a cheap slut.”

Jeannie had the decency to blush and look embarrassed. “Jim, NO! Don’t drag Katie into this! It’s unfair! I don’t want to have her know that . . . ”

“Fuck you! Unfair? That’s not a word you understand! Katie earned her money, but I’m not paying for your fuck time with your lover. You pay her. And show her what an adulterous bitch you really are!”

I left Jeannie sobbing in the car and I went into the house alone. I told Katie that Jeannie would pay her when she came in, and I stomped angrily toward the bedroom. Katie could certainly tell that I was dangerously enraged, but she ran down the hall after me anyway. In a nervous voice she said, “There’s some man who’s been c-c-calling every few minutes. He keeps a-a-asking for you. He wouldn’t give me his n-name.” I told her I’d pick up the phone in the bedroom if it rang again. She ran quickly back to the living room, obviously trying to get as far from me as she possibly could. She had been suspicious of my behavior earlier, but now she knew she was in the middle of something terrible. She just didn’t know how terrible it really was. I wondered if I did, either. Perhaps ten minutes later I heard the thud of the front door as Katie left. Jeannie came into the bedroom. Her face still looked terrible. We stood facing each other. The look on my face made her start to cry again. I stared at her, wondering how the hell we had reached this point in our lives. I turned on every light in the room. The cum and pussy-juice stains on her clothes were now completely visible. Knowing what caused the acrid stench almost made me gag.

“Take off your clothes. I want to see my freshly-fucked, cheating whore-slut of a wife’s body. I want . . . ” The ringing telephone interrupted the rest of the tirade I planned to deliver. I picked the phone up after the second ring as Jeannie stared open- mouthed at me. A look of fear and shame covered her face. Good.

I grunted, “Yeah?” into the mouthpiece.

“Jim? Look, man, I’m sorry about your wife! But what the hell did you do with my clothes? And glasses? I’m calling from the bedroom and . . . ”

“I burned them. Everything. Even your silk boxers. All ashes.”

There was silence for a moment. “What about my wallet? I had over two grand in it! Did you take it? And my Rolex! And my keys? What . . .”

“Gone, asshole. Burned to a crisp. All of it.”

“Look, Jim! This isn’t funny! Jeannie started this! I just went along ’cause she wanted to get laid! Hey, man, you know how it is, right? An eager cunt’s an available cunt! So what was I supposed to do when she . . .”

“I don’t even know your name. But Jeannie’s cunt isn’t ‘available’ to you anymore. Ever. Got that?”

“Jim, be reasonable! I don’t have any clothes and . . .”

“I’m hanging up. If you EVER call this number again, I’ll find you and kill you! So why don’t you call me right back. I’d like that. Then you won’t have to worry about being naked. Or anything else. Ever.”

I slammed the phone down. Jeannie was staring at me. “Was that . . .”

I took in a long breath and released it slowly. “Yeah. Him. The guy you cheated with. The buy who gave you that screaming orgasm I could hear from the hall! The guy you rubbed your . . . wet and slimy trench so lovingly against. He called you an ‘eager cunt.’ So show it to me. Strip!”

Jeannie hesitated, then bent down to take off her shoes. She stopped when she saw me taking out my penknife. “Jim, what are you going to . . .”

“Shut the fuck up, you cheating tramp!” I said in a loud whisper. “You’re never going to wear any of these clothes again. I don’t want to see them and be reminded of what I learned about you tonight! And saw! And heard! And smelled!”

Jeannie handed me her shoes, and I slashed them with my knife. When I looked up, Jeannie was staring at me with real terror in her eyes. She obviously thought I was going to kill her. That was still a possibility, and I didn’t try to make her think differently. I glared at her but she just stared at me and didn’t take off the rest of her clothes.

I stepped forward, grabbed her blouse, and slashed it from her neck to her waist. I spun her around and jerked the remains of the blouse off her arms. “Jim, that really hurt! You don’t have . . .” “I told you to get undressed, you cheating whore! Now DO IT!”

Jeannie was shaking and tears were once again rolling down her cheeks. She quickly unfastened her skirt, stepped out of it, and handed it to me. She gasped as I slashed it again and again. I dropped the pieces onto the floor. Jeannie handed me her bra. Her hand was shaking so hard she could barely keep from dropping it.

I looked at her as I cut it up. “I see he left suck marks on your neck and tits. I’m glad you had such a good time. How much did he pay you? I hope you got at least a quarter. Hell, at two-bits a trick, I’ll bet you can earn enough in a couple of days to pay our mortgage! Maybe I’ll put up a sign at work with our home number. ‘Eager cunt. Cheap. Suck my tits and fuck me. Listen to me scream.’ Do you also charge to suck cocks? Or do you do that for free?”

Jeannie’s face turned crimson. “Jim, I’m really sorry and ashamed! But this isn’t the time or . . .”

I stepped forward, still holding my knife. Jeannie quickly pulled her panties down, handed them to me, and raced naked into our bathroom. As the door closed, I looked at her panties. I knew they would be damp, but what I saw hit me like a physical blow. I dropped the knife, then collapsed onto the bed. For the second time that evening I almost threw up.

The crotch of Jeannie’s panties was wet and stained with her vaginal fluid. That I had expected. But there was also a large streak of cum in the middle. She had fucked that guy and he hadn’t even used a condom! I’d seen his wet penis when he’d rolled over, but the absence of a condom simply hadn’t registered in my brain. And it was about two weeks since her last period, so Jeannie was in a fertile time of the month.

I don’t know how long I sat on the bed, staring at the cum in Jeannie’s panties. I heard the toilet flush, and a few seconds later I heard the shower as she turned it on. I could feel the intensity of my anger filling me, like a volcano preparing to erupt. Once again I had to struggle to regain control.

I got up and put her panties in a plastic bag. I hid the bag with the proof of her infidelity in a drawer of my dresser. I knew I was going to need it. Then I stripped off my clothing and stormed into the bathroom.

Jeannie was still in the shower. She cried out and backed away from me when I climbed in with her. I smashed her against the wall with my body. I wanted to strangle her. She saw the look on my face and she knew what I was thinking of doing. “No! No! No! Jim, Please! No! Think about the girls! No!”

In spite of what she had done and in spite of my anger, I began to get aroused. Perhaps it was the sight and touch of her wet, naked body that triggered my libido. Perhaps it was something else, something hidden in my psyche, something dark and frightening. In any case we both stared at my penis as it slowly became fully erect against her thigh. She looked at me and realized that my murderous rage had changed to something else. She shook her head. “No, Jim! I can’t! Not after . . . ”

“Down on your hands and knees! I’m going to doggy-fuck you like the cheating bitch you are!”

“No, Jim! You know I don’t like doing it that way, and I don’t want to get my hair wet. We’ve got to talk! Let me get cleaned up and we . . . ”

I reached out and grabbed Jeannie by the hair and pulled her head back. She screamed. “Shut up, bitch! You’ll wake your children! I really don’t give a fuck what you want or don’t want!” I thrust her head under the shower head, ending her concerns about getting her hair wet. I held her face under the shower until she choked on the water. Then I forced her down into the bottom of the tub, onto her hands and knees. She coughed and gagged for several seconds until she managed to breathe again.

I tried to get between Jeannie’s legs, but she clenched her thighs together. “Jim, I’m not ready! You can’t just . . .” She gasped in pain as I forced her legs apart with my knees. I pushed my penis against her vaginal opening, and she was still wet enough that I could get the head in, but that was all. She groaned. It clearly wasn’t because she was aroused. She really wasn’t ready. Not like she had been earlier with that guy. I truly didn’t care.

I pushed, but I only shoved Jeannie forward without penetrating deeper. When her head banged into the fixtures at the end of the tub, I pushed harder. She cried out again as I forced my penis all the way inside her. I pulled completely out, then pushed myself into her again. I did this over and over. Each time I could feel her uterus being forced aside as I slammed into her cervix. I knew this was really painful for her. She began to whimper and sob, groaning and crying out each time I entered her.

Water from the shower was striking her head, plastering her hair to her scalp. I continued to fuck her. Dominating her so completely was incredibly satisfying, and it helped me to build to a climax. Just as she began to produce vaginal lubrication, I ejaculated into her. I pushed myself into her as hard as I could and held my penis inside her as deeply as I could go. Her face was smashed against the shower controls as I sprayed my seed again and again into her cheating cunt. I held her that way until I was completely soft.

I pulled out of Jeannie and she collapsed onto the bottom of the tub, ending up lying on her right side. Her eyes were closed and she was sobbing. I could see red marks and a small cut on her forehead where I had forced her against the fixtures. I soaped myself and rinsed off. I spent a lot of time cleaning my penis. Who knows what I could catch from this bitch? I urinated into the tub, letting it run down the length of her body. She lay in it but didn’t get up. I climbed out of the tub and turned off the hot water. As the cold water struck her, Jeannie yelped and sat up. She quickly turned off the water and climbed out of the tub. I stared at the suck and bite marks that were vivid all over her breasts.

“I know I really hurt you, but was it really necessary to rape me? What makes you think . . . Why did you . . .?”

“You cheap, cheating, bitch-slut! You had unprotected sex with that asshole! Now at least there’s a chance that I’ll be the father if you get pregnant!”

Jeannie turned red, then looked down at the floor. She began to cry again. “How about those girls down the hall? Are they mine? Or someone else’s?”

Jeannie looked up, anger on her face. “How dare you suggest? . . .”

I reached out and slapped her breasts with the back of my hand. They immediately turned red and Jeannie gasped in pain. “Because, you cheap whore, you proved tonight that you don’t give a damn who makes you pregnant. Damn you! When that asshole told you that you had an audience, you got all excited and started to perform. Just how many guys did you fuck tonight, anyway? Were you going to take on as many as you could, like Vivian? Shit, I saw you dancing with that prick and I thought you were going to do him right there after he pulled your skirt up above your ass.” Jeannie stared at me both in anger and shock.

“You saw? Yes, I was unfaithful tonight, but only with . . . him! How could you think? . . .”

“How? You’ve got to be kidding! You know, it’s ironic. If I had fucked Vivian like she offered, I probably wouldn’t have seen you going into that bedroom. Since I haven’t been fucking you, and since I didn’t know you were getting porked by him, I would never have figured out what was going on unless your belly started swelling up. Hell, maybe it still will.”

I dried myself off and left Jeannie crying in the bathroom. With her wet hair she looked like a drowned rat. I got into bed, naked as was my custom. I heard Jeannie using her hair dryer for an extremely long time. The adrenalin wore off, and I was suddenly dead tired and slightly nauseous. In spite of the terrible events of the evening, I was almost asleep when I felt her climbing into her side of the bed.

The room was completely dark, and I reached out and felt that she was wearing panties and a shirt. “Take them off. Bitches like you don’t wear clothes in bed. And from now on whenever I want to fuck you I’m going to. Your eager cunt belongs to me. What you want doesn’t matter. If you ever say no, I’ll rape you again. If you ever fuck someone else, I’ll kill you. And him.”

Jeannie got up and I heard her removing her clothes. She climbed back into bed without touching me. I heard her crying into her pillow as I fell asleep. How the hell did our marriage get this messed up? Could it be saved? Who gave a shit, anyway? Jeannie obviously didn’t, did she? I fell asleep remembering how she had looked when I went into that room and found that guy between her legs as she moaned and rolled back and rubbed her pussy against him and got ready to fuck him again and . . .

NEW HOUSEHOLD RULES

Light was shining in the window when I woke up. I had an intense headache and my usual morning erection. I shook Jeannie awake. When she opened her eyes, I pointed to my penis. “Suck it. I want to cum in your mouth before I take a piss.”

Jeannie shook her head. “Jim, this isn’t right! You’re treating me like . . . like a prostitute! I can’t just . . .”

“Yes you can. As far as I’m concerned you ARE just a cheap whore, and I want a blowjob. It’s what I feel like right now. Maybe later I’ll want to fuck you. But get busy and suck me. And swallow, even though you don’t like to. I don’t want a mess. If it helps, you can pretend you’re sucking your lover’s cock. I obviously can’t read your mind. Hell, I can’t figure out anything you’ve been thinking about lately.”

Jeannie started to cry. When she didn’t move I pushed her head down to my crotch and rubbed the head of my penis against her lips. After a few seconds she began to suck and lick my penis. It took a long time. Neither of us was aroused, and what I really needed to do was urinate. My headache didn’t help, either. It also didn’t help that her tears were dripping onto my groin. But she finally managed to get me turned on, and I ejaculated a couple of times into her mouth. She swallowed and cleaned me up with her mouth. She was still crying. I almost felt sorry for her, but I quickly suppressed that emotion. In this room she was just a whore. My whore. My eager cunt. Shit! I took a shower while Jeannie lay curled up in bed. She was still whimpering when I came out. “The girls and I expect breakfast. Better clean yourself up. If they see you like this, they’ll think you’re some hooker I picked up in a bar. Hell, for all I know that’s what you’ve been doing in your spare time.” She began to sob, loudly. I left the room.

Lizzie, our three-year-old, didn’t notice that something was wrong at our later- than-usual Sunday-morning family breakfast. But her six-year-old sister, Jennifer, did. She asked, “What’s wrong with Mommy, Daddy?” I explained that Mommy had not slept very well and that this was kind of like a bad dream. Jennifer nodded very wisely, but she didn’t look convinced.
About an hour after breakfast the phone rang and Jeannie answered it. I saw her turn pale. She covered the mouthpiece and said, “It’s for you, Jim. Better take it in the bedroom.”

The look on Jeannie’s face look told me that the call made her afraid, not upset the way it would have if someone had just given her bad news. “If it’s who I think it is, listen in. After all, you got us into this mess.” I whispered. She nodded and broke into tears.

As soon as I picked up the phone in the bedroom, I heard a sharp click as Jeannie hung up. I cleared my throat, and coughed a couple of times, giving her plenty of time to remove the mouthpiece from the phone and sneak back onto the line without being heard. We had used this trick several times so that one of us could anonymously listen in on a call. “Who’s this? And whadyawant?” I said.

The caller identified himself as Paul Keener’s personal attorney. So that’s who Jeannie’s lover was! Keener was the real estate agent who had sold us our home right after we were married.

The lawyer, in his most intimidating voice, told me that I had caused his client serious personal loss and even more public embarrassment, and unless I agreed to pay him the sum of $20,000 he would file suit. Then he started more lawyer talk, and I cut him off. “If you client’s with you, put him on. Otherwise I’m hanging up and you can go fuck yourself.”

There was a delay of about ten seconds, and then Paul came on the line. “I’m serious about this! My shoes alone cost over $700, and my watch was a custom Rolex and . . . ” I cut him off, too.

“Do what you have to do, asshole. But listen carefully. As soon as your jerk-off lawyer sues me and this goes public, I’m filing for divorce, naming you as the one I caught fucking her. I saw a wedding ring on your finger. Does your wife know that you’ve been fucking mine?”

He laughed. “You can’t prove I ever had sex with her! It’ll be my word against yours! If you file for divorce, who will believe her if she testifies against me? I want you to pay up! You cost me a bundle last night, not to mention the trouble I had getting home without my clothes. And keys. I’m pissed, so you better . . .”

“How does a pair of her panties with her pussy juice and your cum in them sound to you? Like to explain that in open court? I’ll bet your wife and kids will love it! How about when you explain about the sex party you took my wife to last night? Did your wife give you her blessing to fuck mine? Was she even there?” There was silence on the other end of the phone. I could hear a muffled conversation in the background as Paul talked to his attorney.

“Yo! Paul, you asshole! You there?”

“What?” He replied as I finally regained his attention.

“It’s up to you, Paul. Please take me to court. I’ll sue you, too. I’ll bet a jury will give me a medal for what I did to you last night. And it’ll certainly help your business when the news jackals get hold of it. It’s such a great story. You took a client’s wife to a sex party and fucked her!” I listened to several seconds of silence. I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. “I told you last night what I’d do if I ever saw you near Jeannie again. Believe it!” I hung up. He didn’t call back.

A very pale-faced Jeannie came into the bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you going to divorce me, Jim?” She asked in a quiet voice.

“Probably. And if we can’t work this out pretty fucking fast, absolutely. What I didn’t mention to that prick Paul was that he’ll end up in court, anyway, when I file. I’ll ask for custody of the girls. I’ve certainly got enough evidence on you that you won’t get them. I really don’t have a wife, do I? I’m just providing a home for another man’s fucking slut. That’s not a marriage. And that means you’re not fit to be their mother.”

Jeannie lowered her head and began to cry. She half-raised her arms and turned toward me. She obviously wanted me to hold her. Instead I brushed past and left her standing there. I went to play with my children. I hoped they really were mine. At that point I wasn’t sure about much of anything.

That night after the girls were in bed, I made Jeannie lie naked and spread- eagled on our bed. “How’s your fucking twat?”

Her face flushed. “That’s such a crude way to say it, Jim! I’m sore, but I don’t seem to have any injury or infection. Why? Are you going to . . . rape me again?”

“Yeah, if I feel like it. Maybe in your ass. Just like with a cheap whore,” I muttered. Jeannie turned her face away from me. I had already decided I wasn’t going to fuck her except in her mouth, but I didn’t care what she thought.

“We’re going to bed, so clean up and let’s get to it. Remember, stay naked. At the very least you’re going to suck my cock every night and morning from now on until we figure out what we’re going to do. I may even stop by during the day for more.”

I saw a flash of anger on Jeannie’s face. “Why don’t you just . . . fuck me? That way I might enjoy sex, too! Do you hate me that much?”

I glared at her. “Until we know whether or not you’re pregnant, I’m not screwing you again. I might screw Vivian, since she’s obviously available, but certainly not you. The paternity of your baby could be a big issue in our divorce.” I had no intention of having sex with Vivian, but I could see that my words hurt Jeannie, deeply. Well, that was the idea.

“And I’m not going to put my cock in your open-for-business, easy-access cunt until I see a note, signed by your doctor, that you didn’t catch anything from your fuck- mate. Or mates. How many were there, anyway?”

“Two. Just Paul and . . . a guy he . . . he gave me to last week.” She answered quietly. Oddly enough, I believed her. But why had Paul shared her? I still didn’t understand what was really going on.

Monday morning I set the alarm a half-hour earlier than usual, and I made Jeannie give me another blowjob. She seemed resigned to doing this, and she had always done it exceptionally well. I decided to stop by at lunchtime and have her do it again. Jennifer was in school, and Monday was Lizzie’s day to play at a neighbor’s home. Jeannie and another mother took turns with their two young daughters, giving each of the mothers some time alone.

I made this a regular practice. Each day when Jeannie was home alone, I would stop by for a blowjob. Jeannie was sucking my cock at a rate of sixteen or seventeen times a week. A little more than a week later she had a note from her doctor saying she didn’t have any sexually transmitted diseases. We were both relieved, but I didn’t want to fuck her until I could really degrade her. A week after that her period came, right on schedule. We had been extremely lucky.

We had never had sex during her periods before, but I told her she didn’t have a choice. We did it in the tub, doggy-style, since Jeannie didn’t like that position. She had always been exceptional sensitive during her periods, and as I rubbed her period- swollen breasts, I felt her vagina begin to spasm around my penis. She had a short orgasm, the first we’d had together in more than six months.

I continued fucking Jeannie, and I found an angle that caused her the most arousal, and she had another, much more intense orgasm, accompanied by loud screams as I ejaculated into her. The blood and stuff made a real mess, and it smelled terrible. But at least it was easy for her to clean up in the tub. I forced her to lie in it while I stood over her and cleaned myself off. She was still lying in the bottom of the tub and crying when I left the room. I had fucked her, she had climaxed a couple of times, and I had managed to turn it into a completely degrading experience for her. What could be better?

As soon as Jeannie’s period was done, I ordered her to wear loose skirts with no panties during the days when Lizzy was at the neighbors. I would come home at lunchtime, lift Jeannie’s skirt, and fuck her from behind in whatever room I happened to find her. She complained that she found it to be degrading, particularly since I didn’t do any foreplay and I made her grease my erection with lubricating lotion before I shoved myself into her. I told her I meant it to be. But at least we had resumed some semblance of marital relations. She had always been extremely easy to arouse, and in spite of my rough treatment and in spite of having me fuck her from behind, she sometimes climaxed. Previously I had always held back so that she could climax first. Now I didn’t bother. Getting herself off was her problem, not mine.

Immediately after sex I lost some of the anger I felt, and I remembered the feelings we shared when we’d made love before our argument. We found we could talk for a few minutes as I lay on top of her with my penis slowly softening inside her. Right after one of our midday doggy-fucks, I asked Jeannie why she had started an affair with Paul. She claimed that Paul had blackmailed her with some pictures he had of her. She collapsed into tears after telling me just that much, so I let it go. But how had he gotten pictures that were so bad that he could control her? Did she have a secret past or something?

TESTOSTERONE BATTLES WITH PAUL

Not knowing what was in the pictures began to bug me until my curiosity became an obsession. About a week later I had a break at midmorning, and I was feeling macho. I told the secretaries that I had personal business to do, and that I was taking the rest of the day off. Then I walked about four blocks to Keener Reality. I brushed past the young, blonde, buxom receptionist and headed back to Paul’s private office. He was alone, so I walked in and firmly closed the door. I tried to slam it, but there was some kind of closing mechanism on it, and I couldn’t. Childish, but that’s how I felt.

Paul stayed seated behind his desk and reached for the phone. “I’m calling the police if you don’t get out of here! You threatened to kill me. I can have you arrested. So get the fuck out of my office! NOW!”

“Go ahead. Call them. Let’s talk about you and my wife. Fucking.” I said.

“For God’s sake, keep your damned voice down!” Paul replied, his hand still on the phone. He glanced guiltily toward the front, and I knew he was probably also having an affair with the receptionist.

“Call the cops! When they get here, I’ll tell them I caught you fucking my wife! Call them, shithead!” I said louder. Paul lifted his hand off the phone and glared at me. It was a cheap victory, but it still felt good.

“Are you looking for a fight? Just because I fucked your stupid wife and she enjoyed it? More than she ever did with you? What the hell to you want, anyway?”

I swallowed hard. The fact that Jeannie had actually had great sex with this prick really hurt. I had heard her screams when Paul had fucked her, but somehow I had managed to suppress that memory most of the time. Score one for Paul. “I want the pictures.” I finally said.

First Paul tried to keep his face expressionless, then he tried to act surprised. It didn’t fool me. “What pictures?” He asked, innocently.

“The ones you used to blackmail Jeannie,” I replied calmly. “If you don’t give them to me right now - and all of them, including any duplicates and the negatives - I’m going to get Jeannie to file a criminal complaint against you. Them I’m going to file for divorce. Your whole fucking life will come undone. Just like mine has. Thanks to you.”

Paul squirmed in his chair. “They aren’t here,” he finally said. “Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to keep something like that in the office?”

“Then get up and let’s go get them. Right now. Otherwise I’m taking Jeannie to the cops.”

Paul clenched and unclenched his jaw several times as he considered the options. He finally stood up. “I’ll go get them. You wait here.”

“If you’re leaving, I’m going with you, shithead! If you get out of my sight before I have the pictures, I’m going straight to the cops. And to a divorce attorney.”

Paul glared at me again. His nostrils flared and I wondered if I could take him in a fair fight. It didn’t matter. If it came to that, I didn’t plan to fight fair. I glared back at him, hoping he would take a swing at me. He finally lowered his eyes. Another little victory for me. He got up and I followed him out the front door of his business. I felt better than I had for several days. I should have known better.

We got into Paul’s car. We were both extremely tense. On the one hand I wanted to get the pictures so that I could find out what Jeannie had done to get herself blackmailed. On the other hand I didn’t know if I really wanted to find out what they would reveal about her. This conflict made it hard for me to concentrate on things around me, but somehow I managed to keep track of where we were. Fortunately he didn’t say anything to me. I would have had trouble expressing logical thoughts. Everything I was doing came from my gut, not my head.

Paul drove for about ten minutes and parked in front of an apartment building. I noted the address. He opened the outside door with a key. There was a security desk in the lobby, but there was nobody sitting behind it. There was a sign saying something about the hours the desk was manned, but I didn’t pay attention to it. We rode to the eighth floor in the elevator, and he stopped in front of #802. “You wait here. I’ll go in and get the pictures.”

Paul unlocked the apartment door, and I pushed in behind him as he tried to close the door. When he protested, I again told him that I wasn’t letting him out of my sight until I had the pictures. He moved quickly across the room, opened a drawer in a small cabinet, and pulled out a handgun. He pointed it at my chest.

“I’ve had enough of your giving me orders!” He muttered. “Go wait in the hall!”

“Go ahead. Shoot me. You completely fucked up my life. If you kill me, it’ll fuck up yours. Go ahead. People know I’m with you. Jeannie knows this address. Your whole blackmail scheme will bust wide open. So shoot me if you’re going to! My life is over anyway. Is yours?” I was strangely calm. I meant every word, and he probably knew it.

I stared at Paul until he lowered his eyes. “Her cunt’s not worth all this,” he muttered under his breath as he replaced the gun in the drawer. I was relieved that his only interest in Jeannie was sex.

He led me down a short hall to a tiny bedroom. There was a waist-high safe on the floor in a corner. Paul stood in front of it so that I couldn’t see the combination, and he quickly unlocked it and opened the door. Inside was a pile of manilla envelopes, probably about three dozen in all. He poked around, then pulled one out and handed it to me.

The number three was circled at the top. Also on it was written in five lines, “Jeannie Great body Eager fuck Screamer OK to party?” I incorrectly thought the last comment, which was in a different color of ink, meant he’d decided that she had been ready for the sex party where I’d seen him fucking her. He quickly closed and locked the safe as I opened the envelope with my wife’s name on it.

The large envelope was filled with smaller letter-sized envelopes, each of which contained a set of several incredibly graphic photos. I glanced through pictures in several sets to get an idea of what they were. They were typical porn poses and several of them showed Paul fucking Jeannie. I had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to kill him.

My hands were shaking as I slipped everything back into the big envelope. All of the photos were Polaroids. Unless he’d scanned them, I didn’t have to worry about copies or seeing them on the internet. I closed the envelope and took several deep breaths to calm myself. I knew that Jeannie and I could never have a life together if I killed Paul, but I could taste bile in my throat. The urge to throw up had returned, as had the urge to choke the life out of Paul. I finally regained control of myself. I seemed to be having to do that a lot lately.

Paul wanted me to get out of the apartment, but I poked around, anyway. From the look on his face, I was certain he knew what I was thinking about doing to him. He clearly wished he’d kept the gun in his hand, but he didn’t want to leave me alone so that he could go get it.

In one room I found a bed with several Polaroid cameras set up around it. They had cables attached for remote operation. In the largest bedroom, I found an unmade bed. I sniffed the sheets, and they smelled of recent sex. Obviously Paul had other sex partners. Jeannie and I had been damned lucky. We all could have gotten any number of venereal diseases, passed back and forth through Paul.

The final room had a vinyl floor and had probably once been a kitchenette. At first I couldn’t figure out the purpose for the waist-high machine bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. Then I saw the dildos and I knew. “I thought you could get it up, Paul. What’s the fuck-machine for?”

Paul smirked at me. “Ask Jeannie. This thing could get her off better than any man ever could. Even better than with me. She had so many orgasms on it that she pissed and crapped herself.” He pointed to faint stains on the seat and on the floor. The way Paul said this had the ring of truth. But I almost hit him when he smirked and added, “Maybe you should buy one for your bedroom. That way she might stay home and not go out looking for guys like me who can give her better sex than you can.” Another solid score for Paul. Paul drove me back to his real estate office. Before I got out of the car, I threatened him again. “If I find out you kept any pictures of Jeannie - or if I ever see you near Jeannie again - I’ll castrate you and cut off your dork. And I’ll use a dull knife. Then I’ll let you bleed to death. Got anything to say?”

“Yeah. She liked fucking me. A lot. Too bad you can’t give her what she needs. She’ll never stay home. Not now. Not after getting fucked out of her mind by me. She’ll leave you when she can’t get what she needs from you. You’re just not enough man for a woman like her.”

I walked away, carrying the envelope with me. I’d gotten the pictures from Paul, but his parting shot almost made me feel as if he’d won. Perhaps he had. Was Paul right about Jeannie? Did I really want to stay married to her? Would she stay with me? Was she worth the risk? Well, maybe the pictures would give me some answers.

MORE UNBEARABLE TRUTHS - AND CONSEQUENCES

I took the envelope directly home. I sat Jeannie down at the kitchen table. “I got the pictures from Paul. At his love-nest, I want you to tell me if I have all of them.” She slowly shook her head back and forth and I could see fear on her face. Tough shit.

I showed Jeannie what Paul had written on the envelope, and she blushed, then began to tremble. “I don’t want to see them again!” She whispered. “I don’t think I can handle . . . ”

I interrupted her. “Jeannie, if we’re going to come out of this with a marriage, we have to face everything. You’ve got to tell me if I have them all!”

“Jim, there are pictures of things . . . things that I don’t want you to know about! Please, let’s just burn them and go on with our life together!”

I stared at Jeannie until she looked away. “You know I’ve already seen some of the pictures. Of you fucking Paul.” I could tell that this wasn’t what was worrying Jeannie. “I caught you in bed with cum dripping out of your pussy after you fucked Paul. Will I really see something worse than that?” She began to cry as she nodded.

What could be worse? My stomach churned. “Well, let’s get to it. I want to you to look at every picture with me. And you’re going to tell me everything. Complete truth. If you hold anything back . . . anything at all . . . I’m filing for divorce and taking the girls. Understood?”

Jeannie nodded, and I spread out everything on our kitchen table. The inner envelopes were dated, and I put them into order. I opened the earliest one. I examined each photo, then handed it to Jeannie. She handed each one back to me after she took a quick look.
They were classic porn shots, beginning with a naked Jeannie sprawled on a bed with her legs spread wide apart. There were close-ups of her pussy with her pubic hair brushed aside so that her labia were visible. There was a series showing a penis, presumably Paul’s, going progressively deeper into her vagina. Another showed the same penis moving ever deeper into her ass. Several showed Jeannie’s face with Paul’s penis in her mouth. The final picture was a close-up of her open pussy with cum dripping out of it. In every photo her eyes were closed and there was no expression on her face. She looked unconscious, and she was certainly not aroused.

Jeannie began to tremble. “Paul only showed me five of the pictures. I had no idea he had so many. I didn’t even know he’d . . . put his penis inside my behind that day! I was sore and didn’t know why. Oh God!” She clung to me as sobs shook her body. It was the most true intimacy we’d shared in several months. I asked her why she’d said “that day” about the anal sex, and she admitted that he’d made her do it again after that. Not only had Paul fucked my wife, but he had taken her anal virginity! I felt less and less like a husband - and less and less like a man.

Jeannie said the pictures Paul had shown here were indeed in the collection we’d just seen. She pointed them out. “Okay. How the hell did he get these pictures in the first place? Why did you start you fucking him?”

Jeannie explained how Paul had managed to blackmail her. When she was finished telling me everything, it was all I could do to keep from heading back over to his office and killing him. Paul was a predator. Several months after Jeannie and I had started our silly feud, Paul had talked to her while she was shopping for groceries. “He asked me to meet him for coffee, and I did. It was nice to talk to a man again.

“Paul could sense what was wrong, and I admitted that we were having troubles. He was sympathetic, and he told me that he was experiencing the same thing with his wife. He suggested that we go to an apartment that was nearby so that nobody would overhear us talking about the personal details of our lives.”

“Jeannie, that was just, plain stupid!”

Jeannie lowered her eyes. “I know. But I . . . I really felt so much better because I was talking to him. You and I, well we weren’t talking at all. “We talked about our marriage problems, and I started to feel better. Paul was the perfect host. Understanding, sympathetic, and supportive. When he offered me a drink of juice, I took it. Almost immediately I felt dizzy, and then I blacked out. I woke up with a terrible headache. Paul was . . . having sex with me. I tried to push him off, but I was still groggy and . . . and he finally finished. Then he took that picture of . . . of my crotch. He told me that the drug would wear off and the headache would go away. “He showed me five of those pictures, and then he hid them somewhere. He told me that he would show them to all my friends and . . . and to you . . . unless I agreed to . . . keep coming back to . . . to fuck him. I didn’t want you to find out, so I did. Every two weeks. At the apartment. And he always took more pictures. Ones that were worse than the first ones. I couldn’t get free.

“There’s something terrible that I know you’re going to be able to tell from seeing the pictures. He said that my body belonged to him. Not to me or to you.”

“God, Jeannie! That’s the way I’ve been treating you since the party!” I said. “Just a body! Not even a person!” I felt both a terrible rage and incredible guilt.

Jeannie took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “Jim, it’s much worse. He never wore a condom.”

The thought of Paul ejaculating into Jeannie’s womb was beyond pain. Jeannie sobbed against me as I gathered my thoughts. “You must have been having sex with Paul during your most fertile times for several months. I’m just glad he didn’t get you pregnant.”

Jeannie looked me directly in the face. “Jim, he did get me pregnant and I got an abortion. But how could I tell you? We weren’t having sex. What could I have said? I killed one of my own babies because of him! Otherwise you would have known I was having an affair!”

I held Jeannie for several minutes while she cried. She opposed abortion, but she had felt she had no choice. She had violated yet another of her moral beliefs. I couldn’t believe how much damage Paul had done to her - and to us. We still hadn’t looked at most of the pictures in the manilla envelope, so things were going to get worse. We both knew it, she more than I.

After a few minutes we were both reasonably composed, and I picked up the second set of pictures. Jeannie begged me to wait to look at that set, so I reluctantly agreed. I set them aside, and picked up the third set.

We looked at the next several sets, each taken two weeks apart. Jeannie was not drugged and obviously very much awake in every shot. Several showed closeups of her pussy with Paul’s shiny penis at various depths inside her. Three showed her licking his penis, a happy smile on her face. One showed Paul’s penis in the foreground with her cheeks and tongue covered with cum. Four showed her on hands and knees being fucked doggy-style. Half-a-dozen showed her with his penis in her anus. Several showed her screaming, presumably in climax. One shot was a view between her legs showing her face and breasts, with cum dripping out of her gaping pussy. She had an incredible smile on her face.

I couldn’t really tell how large his penis was, but it was at least as big as mine. I couldn’t help thinking about that as I looked at the pictures. Call me insecure. You’re right. One thing was odd. There appeared to be something black wrapped around the base of his penis in some of the pictures.

Jeannie was sobbing so hard she was shaking, and I didn’t think she should look at any more of the pictures for a few minutes. I had other issues of my own anyway, so I asked her about the party. She said that Paul had given her several drinks while they danced, and that she had gotten really dizzy. She didn’t remember either the dancing or going into the bedroom. She remembered having sex, but she was used to having sex with Paul. She was confused and thought they were at the apartment. Paul had used her so many times that he knew exactly how to get her to climax. Afterwards she had still felt really dizzy from all the alcohol. Then I had burst in and her world had collapsed.

My ego really couldn’t handle the fact that Paul could get Jeannie to climax while he fucked her. “Jeannie, I don’t understand how . . . how you could let him . . . God! How you could let him bring you to orgasms! I HEARD your screams, and it was the same as when . . . when we make love.” I didn’t mention that I’d never heard her scream so many times. That really hurt, and I simply couldn’t share that pain with her, even though I was demanding that she share everything with me. Paul’s sexual prowess further diminished me as a man and husband.

Jeanie started to cry. “Jim, I did resist him. The second week when he blackmailed me into coming back and having sex with him, I just lay there while he . . . he fucked me. He took more pictures. He didn’t know how to get me to lose control, and I managed to keep from letting go. He finally finished and left me alone, and I lay there and felt his . . . his semen dripping out of me. I felt so dirty, but I still had part of my dignity intact. I thought . . . I hoped that he wouldn’t have sex with me any more if I didn’t respond. And then it would be over. And you would never find out.”

Jeannie paused to gather her thoughts, and I wondered how bad the rest of the story was going to be. “I thought I could go home, but . . . he took me into another room and made me sit on some kind of saddle. There were two . . . greasy dildos sticking up. He made me sit with one in my vagina, and the other one went into my . . . my anus. He strapped my ankles under the saddle so I couldn’t get off. Then he put some kind of a ball-thing in my mouth so I couldn’t make much noise.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Jim, I was really afraid! There were rings on the wall. He tied my arms to them so that they were pulled away from my body. Then he put some kind of cup-things on my breasts. They had wires that he plugged in on the saddle. He even blindfolded me. I was completely helpless. I screamed for him to let me loose and I’d do anything he wanted, but he couldn’t understand what I was saying with that ball in my mouth.

“Then the saddle started vibrating. The dildos went in and out of me, and they twisted, and they vibrated. There was something rubbing against my clitoris. The cups on my breasts sent electric shocks through my nipples and they sucked and relaxed my breasts over and over. Everything kept changing. I never knew what was coming next. I almost fainted from the pain. I know I screamed.

“But my body . . . betrayed me. I couldn’t resist all of the stimulation, and I felt myself starting to climax. I thought it would end after that, but it didn’t. It just went on and on. It felt like every muscle in my body was pulsing when I . . . I came. Paul said he kept me fastened to the machines for more than three hours. He didn’t release me until I was so weak I just hung there without responding. By that time all I felt was pain again, but I couldn’t even groan.

“I remember hearing Paul laugh when I lost control of my bladder a couple of times when I couldn’t control the intensity of my . . . my responses. When he finally pulled me off the saddle, I couldn’t keep from . . . emptying my bowels. I just lay on the floor in my mess. I couldn’t even get up to crawl.

“An hour or so later Paul woke me and made me sit in the shower so that he could clean me up. He had completely destroyed the core of me . . . my sense of who I was. My dignity. My vagina and anus didn’t completely close until the next day. I was so afraid you would see me like that and . . . ”

I held Jeannie as she cried. “I could barely stand, but he made me clean the mess I’d made in the room. And the machine, too. The entire time he gloated about how he had watched as my body had climax after climax, almost without stopping. Even though my jaw hurt because of the ball he’d put in my mouth, he made me give him a blowjob. Then he really threatened me.

“He told me the next time he . . . he fucked me that I was going to show him what I liked so he could get me to have orgasms. If I refused, he would put me back on the machine and leave me there twice as long. I had two weeks to think about it. I didn’t want you to ever see any of those . . . those pictures, so I went back two weeks later.

“Jim, I couldn’t endure that machine again! I HAD to show him how to pleasure me. The things you do. Jim, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t think I could survive another time on that machine!”

I got up and paced back and forth. I’d been playing a silly sex game with Jeannie, trying to get her to beg me to fuck her. In the meantime Paul had been spraying his jism into her twice a month. He even got her pregnant. But he was also giving her the kind of sex she liked! With orgasms! And I was deliberately trying to avoid being suspicious so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the knowledge that another man had his prick in my wife! I kept pacing until I began to calm down.

“I’ve got to see for myself what happened that second week, Jeannie. Let’s look at those pictures.”

The first few pictures were like the first set, only Jeannie had her eyes open. Paul was fucking her, but the look on her face was disgust and fear, not passion. Then I got to the first picture of her on the fucking machine. She was difficult to recognize. Her wrists were tied to rings on the wall so that her arms were held straight out from her body. Her fists were clenched. Her eyes were wide open in her terror.

In the next one, Jeannie was clenching her eyes tight, either in pain or excitement. One picture showed a closeup of liquid spreading out over the saddle, and I assumed it was urine after she had such an incredible orgasm she lost control. Paul had told me that the machine had really gotten her off, hadn’t he? And hadn’t she confirmed it?

In a later picture, Jeannie was still on the machine, but head was drooping on her chest and her body was only upright because she was hanging by her arms. In the final picture in this set, she was untied and lying on the floor in a pool of liquid, presumably her own urine, with the fucking machine visible behind her. Diarrhea had smeared her thighs and was running under her. She was completely limp. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was hanging slackly open. Her cheek was in her own pool of urine but she was just lying there. It was exactly as she had described it a few minutes earlier.

I looked back through the sets from the weeks following her session on the fucking machine. I could clearly see that Jeannie was actively participating as Paul fucked her, and it was plain that she was having orgasms. Lots of them. I no longer felt like her husband, but I knew she needed me to be exactly that. So I held her as she cried. I couldn’t put the thought of Paul’s giving her great sex out of my mind. That bothered me more than his getting her pregnant, since pregnancies could be terminated. How could she ever forget her sex with Paul?

“Jeannie, there is one last set of pictures. From the week before the party. What am I going to see?”

“I’m so sorry!” She whispered. “There was when I . . . I had sex with the other man. And Paul took pictures.”

I felt heat, and I snapped. She hadn’t just fucked a stranger, but she’d had an audience! That reminded me of what Paul had said when I caught them, and those memories flooded my brain. I jumped to my feet. So much adrenalin was racing through me that I was shaking. I had to leave the room to keep from hurting her. I suddenly felt like killing her. And Paul. And anybody else who got in my way. “Murderous rage” does not begin to describe what I felt.

Jeannie had told me that there had been another man, but I’d been so fixated on Paul that I’d almost forgotten about it, well, completely repressed it to be accurate. I’d seen Paul in bed with her, and I’d seen photos of him fucking her, and I’d barely managed to keep from doing something terrible. I didn’t know how I could deal with seeing what was probably going to be worse than anything I’d yet seen. She fucked somebody while somebody else watched and took pictures!

I threw up in the powder room toilet, and that finally calmed me down. Perhaps fifteen minutes later I returned to the kitchen. Jeannie and the envelopes were exactly as I had left them. “Okay. Tell me.”

Jeannie sat at the table and I leaned on the stove, facing away from her. “The last time I went to the apartment - the week before the party when you were out of town - there was a tall man there with Paul. He called him Jack. They said I was going to . . . to fuck Jack while Paul . . . watched and took pictures. He seemed to be some sort of, you know, like his boss or partner or something. He didn’t really order Paul around, but Paul was . . . sort of eager to do exactly what he wanted. He said something about Paul making a mistake by keeping me for himself. And he said he’d hurt me if I didn’t . . . do the things he told me to do.

“His . . . His penis was so big he hurt me anyway. It took a long to time to get used to it. He made me . . . use my mouth to clean him . . . after . . . afterwards. And then the two of them . . . did something . . . I can’t tell you! Afterwards I was so ashamed I nearly threw up and I didn’t hear everything clearly. But I heard Paul say something to Jack about sending me out of town, and Jack said . . . not . . . not until he broke me in.”

Now I had an better idea of what was going on. I suspected Jeannie had been on the verge of being forced into prostitution. I wondered how they thought they could do that without me finding out. I felt a sudden chill as I realized that I was expendable. They could have used our girls to maintain their control over Jeannie if they got rid of me. And with me out of the way, Jeannie would become more available as a whore. I didn’t share these dark thoughts with her.

Instead I reached for the last set of pictures. The first one showed Jeannie on her back with Jack’s penis poised to fuck her. I’d never seen one so large. No wonder it had hurt! The next picture showed the penis halfway in. She was screaming. Then there were several as she was fucked by Jack. Near the end in this set was one that showed Jeannie’s entire body as viewed from between her legs. Her pussy was still open, and a huge pond of cum had dripped out of her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and she looked as if she had enjoyed the best orgasm of her life.

That one cut deeply into my sense of my masculinity, but the one just before it had been worse. Jack had pulled out of her, and she had arched her back and thrust her hips off the bed so that she could push his big penis completely inside her. Obviously she liked the feeling of having his huge organ all the way inside her body. In all the years she and I had been having sex, I’d never known her to do that with me. She’d never been so desperate to keep my penis inside her.

There were several pictures of Jeannie cleaning Jack’s penis with her mouth. She hadn’t mentioned that she had enjoyed doing it, as the pictures clearly showed. In each succeeding one, Jack’s erection got harder and Jeannie’s smile got larger. “You liked it, didn’t you?” I asked as I handed the pictures to her. “Tasting your cunt on his penis. Making it get big again.” She nodded and looked away.

The last few pictures showed Jeannie’s pussy with Jack’s large penis in it, and behind her, Paul’s penis halfway into her anus. Both of them had fucked her at the same time! The fury on my face showed as I handed it to her. She blushed and looked down at her lap. “I didn’t want to tell you about this, Jim. I COULDN’T! Jack took the picture as soon as Paul . . . As soon as he was in . . . inside me, too. Then they both . . . well, they fucked me . . . for a long time until they came.”

Jeannie started to shake as she cried. I was afraid I knew why. “Did you . . . enjoy it?”

“God, Jim! I couldn’t help it! Jack had already . . . you know, gotten me to climax with him. Then with Paul in my behind, I couldn’t help . . . what happened.”

I unclenched my teeth and asked in a throaty whisper through my tight throat. “What happened, Jeannie?”

Jeannie looked at me with a pleading look on her face. “I completely lost control, Jim! I couldn’t stop the . . . my . . . my orgasms. They just went on and on until finally . . . until I felt both of them . . . I felt the . . . the wet rush of heat as they both . . . came inside me.”

“But before that. With Jack. How . . . how . . . how could you have sex with somebody you didn’t even know? A complete stranger?”

“I told them I couldn’t, Jim. Not with Paul watching! But Jack said if I didn’t have several good orgasms, they would know and put me on the machine. Paul knew exactly how my body responds, and I knew I couldn’t fool him. At first I couldn’t do it with Paul taking pictures and making comments, but then I managed to relax and I . . . I had a lot of orgasms with a complete stranger . . . ejaculating inside me.

“I couldn’t help it. If I didn’t enjoy it, I knew what they would do. So I . . . I gave him a really good fuck. Just like a whore, only I’ve heard that whores fake their orgasms. I’m sorry, Jim, but I couldn’t do that and fool them - so I didn’t try.”

I didn’t have to ask if it had been the best sex she’d ever had. The next picture showed a closeup of her crotch with streams of cum leaking from both openings. The last picture showed a closeup of her face, and it was obvious that she had just experienced something truly wonderful. I handed her the last picture. When she handed it back, she looked at the expression on my face, covered her face with her hands, and began to sob again. I went outside and sat on our patio. My marriage was ruined. My masculinity was completely gone. Paul and Jack had taken it.
In the mood I was in I was afraid I would kill the mother of my children, and they hadn’t done anything to deserve that fate. I was afraid to be around Jeannie because I knew I was right on the edge of becoming homicidal - toward Paul, Jeannie, or even myself. There was only one way to deal with this mess.

I walked back into the kitchen. Without speaking to Jeannie I picked up all of the little envelopes and put them back in the big one. I took everything with me to the bedroom. I was packing my clothes when Jeannie walked in. When she saw what I was doing, she began to cry, again. I put the handgun and the envelope with the pictures in one of my suitcases.

I loaded everything into my car as Jeannie watched me through the front picture window. Then I went back inside. “Call my office. Tell them I’m taking vacation time. I have six weeks accumulated. Tell them it’s a family emergency. It is, isn’t it?”

“Where are you going, Jim? How long will you be away?”

“I have no fucking idea. I don’t know where. I don’t know how long. But I have to get out of here. Now.”

“How will I pay for groceries, the mortgage, things like that?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll stop at the bank on the way out of town. They have late hours today. I’ll transfer plenty of money from savings to your personal account. Enough for . . . several weeks. Couple of months maybe.”

I walked outside and Jeannie followed me. “If I need to get in touch with you, how . . . ” I stopped next to the car. “You can’t. I’m not taking the cell. If I want to talk to you, I’ll call.”

Jeannie looked terrible. “What do I tell the girls about their daddy? How do I explain that . . . that . . . ”

“Tell them you weren’t getting enough sex from me, and you found a couple of other men with bigger penises who could do it better than I could. Tell them I left so that I wouldn’t kill you. Is that good enough?”

“Jim, that isn’t fair! Can’t we go back inside and talk about . . . ”

“Fuck you. By the way, even if I don’t call, I may be watching you. I may hire people to follow you. If you fuck Paul, or Jack or anybody, well, I’ll find out and kill you. And anybody you fuck. You can buy a bigger dildo and pretend it’s Jack’s dick. But if you even go out to dinner with a guy, you’re both dead. Take good care of the girls.”

I left her standing there as I climbed in and drove away. I glanced in the rearview mirror when I was a block away and she was still staring after me. Tough shit, Jeannie. I’m not the one who cheated. I’m not the one who got terrific extramarital sex.

Today featured wife humiliated gallery