Thanks once again to my editor "Wires" for his efforts in my behalf. He has, once again, taken my scratches and morphed them into a story much better written and easier to read.
I rang the doorbell and stepped back to await our host. I put my arm around my darling Heather and pulled her to me for a quick kiss. Oh, how I loved this woman. She had given me four of the happiest years of my life. We were once again going to celebrate our free evening with my best friend Doug Bevers. This time we were attending his New Years Eve party in his mansion. I looked forward to seeing Doug, but I looked forward more to spending the evening and night with my wife and ring in the New Year in style.
I was about to ring the bell once more when finally Doug opened the door for us. He grinned and very loudly invited us inside. I already knew from the number of vehicles parked on the street and in his yard that this would be a very large party, but I was still shocked at the number of people milling around inside his home. Doug reached for Heather and gave her a big hug then a gentle kiss on the cheek before pulling her into the house. He turned from her and shook my hand before once more stepping aside so I could enter.
A maid took our coats and disappeared with them. Doug walked between us and said, "God, I'm glad to see you two. I really hate it when my parties get this large but it just seems like I have to invite everyone. I either do business with or have social obligations to repay to everyone on my list except for a few good friends like you two. Clarissa's around somewhere, probably dodging hands from the lechers like usual.
As the evening progressed Heather and I danced, ate, and drank way more than we should have. We had no worries because we knew we had a bed upstairs when we needed it. We were one of the few couples invited to sleep over so we didn't have to drive drunk, get a cab, or have one of us remain sober to serve as designated driver.
I am moderately successful in the investment business—oh, hell, I'm one of the highest selling brokers in my office and in the top quarter of the brokers in the entire company—so I knew, or knew of, many of the people in the room. I agreed with Doug. Many of them were letches or worse. My Heather was a very beautiful woman and had to fend off the advances just as did his Clarissa. As the evening progressed I took the opportunity to network. I greeted current customers and made my pitch to some of the more well to do in the room trying to gain new customers.
As the evening progressed I also kept my eye on Heather. I trusted her fully but I have to admit I was still slightly jealous. I kept an eye on her constantly and from time to time I took it upon myself to 'rescue' her from a man who I felt was trying to be more than a charming conversationalist. Every time I had to 'rescue' her in previous parties I got a smile and gentle kiss from Heather, usually with a quiet "thank you" or "thank you for rescuing me, Honey" from her. This evening was no exception. Many times I would walk up when I saw her trying to break free from a male and take her away. I got her gentle touch and a smile before a hug or kiss on the cheek then her quiet "thank you". We would talk a moment or perhaps catch a quick dance or drink and would go our separate ways once again.
As the evening drug on many of the people left leaving only those who intended to ring in the New Year with our host. I began to notice one particular man following, almost stalking, Heather. He was never far from her and watched her constantly. I recognized his look. He was hooked on her, totally in lust with her and was taking every opportunity to press his case.
At first Heather would ignore him or even walk away. As the evening wore on she began to stay with him longer, even smiling or laughing when he spoke. Occasionally she would gently touch his forearm. This was not like my Heather. She never flirted that long with any of the men who approached her, especially a stranger.
Doug saw me watching them just before midnight and walked up to me. He said, "That's Jonathan Douglass with Heather. He's a real ass, a ladies' man deluxe. I didn't even invite him, but one of the ladies I invited brought him as her date. I haven't seen them together since you and Heather arrived."
Doug stood beside me and looked around the room carefully. He got an inquisitive look on his face then he continued, "In fact, I think Douglas' date has left already now that I think about it. She watched him following Heather around for several minutes earlier this evening, then I saw them having a rather spirited conversation. I haven't seen her since then. He's trouble, Stan; trouble with a Capital T. He's married and they're separated more than they're together. He preys on married women or women who have something he wants. Usually, he goes for the married pussy and for the single women with money he thinks he can get a hold of. I don't know why, hell, he's worth millions on his own. You need to watch him. He can talk a Nun into fucking him and make her think it was her idea and she loves him for all eternity."
For the third time that evening I walked up to separate Heather and Jonathan. He glared at me as he did most of the earlier times I separated him from Heather and made a condescending remark as I walked off with her. This time Heather did not thank me. She gave me an upset look and said, "Stan, what's the matter with you tonight? You could tell I was enjoying talking to Jonathan. Why did you feel the need to separate us? He's not like most of the lechers you save me from. He's a really interesting guy and has some of the funniest stories. He's running for Mayor and has been telling me about some of the people he meets and has to deal with in his campaign. When he found out I work in my company's public information and advertising section he began asking me questions about how to better get his mayoral message out to the voters. I think he might offer me a job, Honey. I really need to network more with him. Just think what could happen if I could get a position in his administration."
"I don't really care, Heather. I don't trust that asshole and I don't like him around you. Doug says he is trouble, a real womanizer. I've also heard some really bad things about him and I want you safe. From what I've heard, the position he is interviewing you for would require you working on your back."
Heather glared at me for a moment. I could see the anger flit across her face and was scared I had blown it, but then she smiled. As she leaned in to kiss my face she said, "Awww. That's sweet. I actually think you're jealous! Well, you have nothing to worry about, Honey. You're all mine." We had already separated again in the swirl of socializing people before I realized she said I was all hers, not that she was all mine. When the thought hit me I stopped a moment and wondered if it had just been a slip of the tongue or if she was trying to tell me something subconsciously.
Three months later I had reason to recall that night in painful detail. The past two months things were rough in my home. Shortly after the party Heather began running late getting home from some of her meetings or visits to her parents. When I questioned her about her tardiness she became angry, defensive, saying she either lost track of time or she had to finish up a project or something before she could leave. She also began volunteering for the local Republican Party after work and that took up her time. Heather is the manager of her section and her skills in that area are almost legendary. She became the local campaign headquarters voluntary office manager and gave advice on public information initiatives. From the little I heard she made the chaos go away and became a very popular volunteer.
Like many other unknowing cuckolded husbands, as she began staying away from our home more often I began to notice our sex life suffering. I was refused more, and when I got some sex it wasn't as good. Now, she let me fuck her where before we made love, sometimes for hours on end. Oh, she always had a reason, such as she was tired, or it was too late, or we didn't have time but the fact remained where before she had been a willing, enthusiastic, passionate participant in our lovemaking now she seemed to do it grudgingly as if it was a disliked duty if we had sex at all.
One day I was talking to Doug about the recent problems in my marriage. He gave me a worried look. Finally, he said, "Stan, I'm getting worried. I may have been the cause of your marriage going under. For the last few weeks I have been hearing Jonathan has found another married whore to play with. Rumor has it he met her at a New Year's party and we both know where he was and who he spent most of his evening with on New Year's Eve. She is supposedly a volunteer in his campaign for Mayor, as well."
I felt myself get dizzy and I lost my breath for a moment. Doug looked at me and continued speaking. He said, "Stan, what's the matter? All at once you're as white as a sheet."
I sat looking at Doug a moment then I said, "Heather has began volunteering for the Republican Party in their office an hour or so after work and on Saturdays. She's always late getting home and refuses to talk about anything she does any longer. It seems that whenever I bring it up she becomes defensive and angry. The evenings she is latest she becomes angry if I even get near her and is almost violent if I try to see her naked or make love to her."
.... There is more of this story ...