It wasn’t the only time
The first time she did it, I read about it in her diary. I was in our bedroom and looking around for a pen. Her diary was on the nightstand on her side of the bed. She was a psychologist specializing in working with women with marital problems and was downstairs in her office seeing a client. I figured what the hell, if she didn’t want me to read her diary, she would have locked it up. So, with that flimsy piece of reasoning, I opened to the last entry which was dated two days ago. I couldn’t believe what I read. She described in detail having sex with Hank, the husband of one of her friends, Mary. She loved how his cock was so much bigger than mine. She described in detail how it was uncut and how the veins ran the length of it. She loved licking along the veins and wrapping her mouth around the tip and licking there and then sucking as much as she could into her mouth.
She never gave me head, but not only did she write how much she enjoyed giving him head but then swallowing his whole load. She said it drove him crazy when she stared into his eyes and licked her lips after she swallowed all his cum. And finally when he came a second time and deposited his load on her belly how she scooped it up with her finger and licked her finger off while staring at him She wrote that she couldn’t wait to fuck him again next Tuesday at his commune.
I was in a state of shock. Wendy and I had been married for 12 years, we had three children two girls and a boy. Our son was the youngest at only two years old. I thought our life was going along fine. We were each doing well financially. We owned our own home and were starting to build a nice nest egg. Our IRAs were invested aggressively in the stock market since we were young enough to assume that risk.
Our sex life had slowed down since our son was born, but I attributed that to the more recent emphasis we both placed on our careers. I shook off the shock and got my iPhone and captured an image of that page of her diary for future use. Reading further I saw that in addition to Hank, she had been regularly fucking my best friend, Larry.
She wrote that Larry ‘s cock was curved sharply upward near the tip and it felt like it was rubbing her places that neither Hank nor I could touch. We had taken a vacation with Larry and his wife, Arlene, to New England, three months ago. Unlike Wendy, Arlene loved to shop and went off every morning to various discount malls. Wendy wanted to do nothing more than show off her new bikinis at the pool and I wanted to try all five of the golf courses in the area.
I assumed that Larry would join me since he loved golf, but he claimed to be having back spasms on the drive up to Massachusetts. I later read in Wendy’s diary how she and Larry would fuck every morning that Arlene was shopping, and I was golfing.
My job required that I attend several night meetings a month. I just had enough time to grab a bite to eat between working at my desk and attending the meeting. On those nights she wrote that she had him over for dinner with my kids. So, he was at our house having dinner and then fucking Wendy after putting the kids to bed. I don’t know if my kids could tell that something was going on, but it was a couple of months into the year when they began calling him Uncle Larry. My mind was racing a mile a minute. I was by turns, hurt, humiliated, shocked, and furious.
I loved my life, my kids, our home, and my wife. How could she do this. Why did she do it. What the hell was that son of a bitch, so called friend doing fucking up our lives. I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew I had to take some action to stop this behavior on her part.
I knew an attorney would be the wrong route to take. Although I had several lawyer friends and work acquaintances I knew that their training was to get in the ring and fight like hell for their client. Let the chips fall where they may, no holds barred and win at all costs, We had three kids to think about, so getting down and dirty was the wrong approach, at first anyway. We could always take the gloves off if a more reasonable tack didn’t work.
When I confronted her about her infidelity, she said she wanted to tell me about it and was waiting for the right time. She wanted our whole family to move into the commune that Hank lived in. Hank lived there with his longtime lover, Mary, who was one of Wendy’s friends. There were already several other people living with them in various capacities. For example, one guy was a paying boarder. My wife’s friend had a sister, Joan, who was living with them and there may have been others who moved in and out. We had three young children so there would always be babysitters available, and my wife could practice her counseling anywhere and, of course, would have unrestricted access to Hank. Interestingly Mary didn’t seem to care who he fucked as long as he returned to the nest.
I had a job in a different town and would have to commute daily. As a result, I would be exhausted after commuting every day and would probably have to get an apartment to use during the week and live in the commune on weekends. While she had regular access to her lover. Mary and Joan were off limits to me. So, I would be left sucking hind teat. As you could guess, the idea didn’t appeal to me at all.
I tried to encourage her to join me seeing a marriage counselor, but she was dead set against it. Finally, she said she was willing to go to a social worker who was in her circle of friends. She was shocked when the social worker sided with me as I insisted that she stop sleeping with other men while in counseling. But Wendy refused saying she had every intention of continuing to see and sleep with other men whenever she chose.
It was about this time that divorce mediation was coming into vogue. It cost much less, and without lawyers fighting to get their hands on as much of our assets as they could, there would be more left over for each of us and our children. So, we decided not to pay for some attorney’s kid’s college education and use mediation to settle our differences.
I should note that dear old Uncle Larry’s affair with my wife was now out in the open. His divorce was messy, with my wife’s name dragged through the mud along with the names of several other women who he apparently fucked over the years. In fact, one of the husbands of those women gave him a severe beating. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. My wife and Larry’s wife, Trish, both belonged to a big group of women who met on a regular basis and were involved in various social causes. When it became known that my wife was fucking Trish’s husband the women in the group chose up sides and the group eventually disbanded as a result.
Anyway, we did the mediation thing and along with splitting our assets we set aside the money we figured we would have to pay the lawyers. That money was invested equally for our children. Fortunately, I picked Apple stock for the kids and now fifteen years later they’ll be able to go to college without having to take out any loans.
It wasn’t easy playing nice with her during the mediation, but I had a more important goal, and that was to do what I felt was best for me and my kids. While I still hate her for what she did to our family and me, I can still tell myself I took the high road and got the best deal for my kids and myself. As far as I know Wendy now lives at the commune. One of her ex-friends from that big group of women told me that she gets passed around to the various men who move in and out of the commune. I’ve kept my kids with me full time even thought we’re supposed to be sharing them. She never comes to pick them up when she’s supposed to, and I don’t pay her child support anymore.
When the divorce was over, I found that going back to the dating scene was very hard. I had always let Wendy oversee our social activities and as a result our friends were basically hers. Our town as well as several neighboring towns held social activities, discussion groups, etc. for singles of all ages. Through these programs I got to meet several attractive women my own age and had some nice one-night stands, but nothing that felt like it would become a long-lasting thing. Then as luck would have it, after a few years, I wound up meeting a wonderful woman. We recently got married. I guess things have a way of working out if you’re lucky.
Occasionally, I wonder what my new wife is doing when I’m not around. She’s attractive and gets more than her share of attention from men when we’re out with a crowd, or at a restaurant, or at one of the kid’s little league games. I try not to let my concerns show, but I think she knows and understands. If she keeps a diary, it’s never out in the open. We just don’t talk about it. It’s better that way.