The day that Vicky and I got married was the happiest day of my life. At the time I knew for a fact that she had never gone out with anyone else.
We had always attended the same schools together, and as soon as she was allowed to date by her mother, I became her first and only boyfriend she ever had.
She never had another boyfriend beside me, not because she was ugly or anything likes that, far from it, she was and still is one of the most beautiful girls in Hardrock. No, from the very first time we went out together we felt in love and there was no need for either of us to date anybody else.
The first time I had a date with her I took her to see a movie. She had just turned sixteen and even then she was a stunningly beautiful girl. At the time her hair was reddish brown - but later when we got married her hair had turned out a beautiful dark auburn -and she had green eyes with just a few freckles on her nose and on her red cheeks. All through high school there were many boys that tried to date her but we always remained faithful to each other.
Later on I went to college while she remained home with her mother and father waiting for me to graduate so that we could get married. As soon as I finish college and got my diploma in Research Biology we got married and the same year, we bought a house in Hardrock. During my last year in college, Vicky had gotten a job working in the largest bank in Hardrock and even after we were married she kept on working, having in mind to do so until she got pregnant.
We have now been married for over five years and we both continue to work. While I work for the government on a special project, she is still working for the same bank, but now she is the head Mutual Fund Officer at her bank and she continue to take evening classes once a week in Bellington which is forty miles from Hardrock.
And this is where my story about Vicky and me begin.
Vicky's strongest wish would be for her to have a few children, even when we were teen, she often talked about how she was going to have a boy then a girl and how she was going to do this and than for them. For the first two years into our marriage, we made love once a day and sometimes twice, and this always in the hope of getting her pregnant. But things don't always work the way we plan them to do, and it soon became evident - to me at least - that there was something wrong with either me or Vicky since she failed to get pregnant even with all the fucking we were doing. Of course I never discussed the mater with her since I knew how painful it would be for her to learn the truth. Instead, I took a sample of my semen to the lab where I am working, and I made a couple of tests that clearly indicated that my sperms count was way too low. Even when I observed my semen under a microscope I could see only a few sperms wiggling around and even those appeared weak and would stop moving as I was observing them. I then knew that the problem was with me and there was no way that I would ever impregnate Vicky. Of course I never mention any of this to her since I didn't want to break her heart, I was hoping that as time went on she would gradually forget about having children of her own.
Now three years later, my plan seemed to have work and she no longer talked about the baby she might have one day. Of course I know that she still is half hoping - at twenty four she is still young enough to bear a child - but at least now she is facing the possibility of never experiencing this.
Life went on and our sex life was still very good, we would fuck almost every day and I could tell that Vicky was enjoying sex a great deal. When I had been going out with her before we were married, aside from fondling her and even letting her masturbate me, I had never fuck her. It was certainly not because of her unwillingness to do so since I was the one that always put a damper on her eagerness. I was terribly afraid of facing her family if she should happen to get pregnant before were married. Had I know then that it was all but impossible for me to impregnate her, I certainly would have indulged myself with her body since she was very eager for me to do so.
Now when I think back about those days I realize what a fool I was. But still I really have nothing to complain about, Vicky's eagerness to fuck have not diminish, even after five years, on the contrary she became more eager as the years passed. She loves it, and she love sucking on my cock as I lick her cunt. Often, while in bed at night, she will place herself in the sixty-nine position, she on top of me and while I make her reach a few orgasms with my tongue, she will make me come in her mouth. She will then remain with my cock still in her mouth for a long time; sometimes she even falls asleep while my cock still has her tongue curled around it.
But about a month ago, I began to detect small changes in her. This all began when she started a new session of evening classes in Bellington.
Her evening classes are on Wednesday evening from seven to ten, but since she has to drive the forty miles to Wellington in her car, she is away from the house from six to eleven.
When she came back from her classes that first Wednesday after the start of her new session, she told me that she had met other peoples working in a bank in Greenville - a town just over five miles from Hardrock. She said that from now on she was going to commute to Bellington with them, since she wouldn't have to drive to and from Bellington, it would allow her to rest in the car. At the time I assumed that these " bank employees " she was referring about were both women, and I didn't asked her to elaborate on the matter, neither did she volunteer any other information about them.
When she got home the following Wednesday evening - it was the first time that she was not using her car to drive all the way to Bellington - I detected a change in her manners. I always wait for her to get home before going to bed and once in bed we always have sex for an hour or so.
But on this Wednesday when she came back, she seemed nervous, and whereas usually she would tell me about who did what in class, she said that she felt tired and wanted to go to bed immediately. Of course I willingly agreed since I was looking forward to our usual session of sex in bed, but as soon as I tried to reach for her breasts, once she was stretched beside me, she asked me if I would mind very much to skip our nightly lovemaking since she didn't feel up to it.
So I went to sleep that night with a half-erection and all night long I had funny dreams which all involved some sort of sex with her.
Next morning she was her usual self and for the rest of the week she was the same wonderful, sex-loving Vicky. But on the following Wednesday morning I could tell that once again she was nervous and she didn't talk much during breakfast. Then, as soon as she got back home from work at a quarter past five, after kissing me lightly on the cheek, she hurried upstairs to take a shower and change into fresh clothes. During that week she had bought a new light brown skirt with a matching yellow sweater, and when she came down the stairs wearing her new outfit she looked stunningly beautiful. The yellow sweater matched perfectly with her auburn hair, and more important still, her voluminous breasts were highlighted by its tight material. Even her skirt was much shorter than anything that she usually wear and it was the first time that she was dressing so attractively to go to her evening classes.
Like any normal husband who sees his wife leave the house in early evening all dress up and looking extremely beautiful and sexy, I got a funny feeling deep inside.
Ever since I have known her I never mistrusted her once, but now all of a sudden, I was having doubts. Why did she dress so sexy? Why had she been so nervous at breakfast and also when she came back from work? I didn't dare think of an answer to each to these questions since I knew what they could be, and worst still I was not prepared to accept these answers.
She kissed me before leaving the house and I noticed that she had put on a little lipstick - a thing she never did when she went to her classes - and even her perfume was different.
That evening was one of the worst evenings of my life. I tried not to think of her but even as I watched television, my mind kept returning to Vicky and what she could be doing.
At eleven I found myself looking through the window every two minutes or so and by eleven-thirty I was almost ready to take my car and start looking for her. When she came home it was almost midnight and as soon as I saw her enter the house I knew that something was wrong. Her hair was in a mess and her yellow sweater was all wrinkled, - especially over her bosom - even her skirt was twisted as if she had put it on in a hurry.
Of course I didn't make any comment about her appearance, and when she told me that they had had to wait until ten thirty for the classes of one of the girl to end before coming home, I knew that she was lying since she had told me previously that both commuters were taking the same classes that she was. Beside, had she known about her arriving late she certainly would have told me about it previously, and even so there was no way that someone would be commuting with a group of people without first checking if they would be all finishing at the same time. No, her arriving late was unpredicted and worst still; her poor excuse was only a last minute attempt to hide the truth. To make matters worst, she also added that from now on, because of this girl finishing half an hour later than the rest, she was always going to arrive home around midnight.
.... There is more of this story ...