I have returned to the submission page after a hiatus. I have a full blown sci-fi story finished and I am ready to polish and finalize. If there is anyone who would like to help me edit, please let me know.
This is my third cheating wife story. I have gone on about my fascination with the genera in the past. I differentiate between cheating wife and willing wimp cuckold stories (which I personally dislike). Until recently there has been a drought of such stories. The founding fathers of the cheating wife, Troubadour, R.C. Connor, E.Z.Riter, Charley Ace, Drifter, and KK appeared to be lying low. Recently there has been a resurgence of new authors like Patricia 51 (a woman's touch with some snips and snails and puppy dog tails), Argee, Jakewho69 (very prolific - has really cleaned up his literary act with a good editor), Hard Days Knight and Taboo Teller. To the Troubadour who has contributed four top notch stories in the last three months I give special thanks.
I do believe in thanking those writers who have contributed to my entertainment so if I may submit this paltry offering, I wish to dedicate this story to all of the cheating wife authors out there. Salute!
Also I extend a thank you to our publisher, Lazeez Jiddan, who makes this all possible.
PS. Write these folks when they please you with a story. To quote Lazeez: "If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment."
This was my fourth Jack Black in an hour and the pain was still there. I wondered how many more it would take until I didn't care and I didn't feel. The relentless air conditioning and attendant cold of the bar did nothing to numb the deep burning. I felt like a perfectly fine heart had been ripped out of my chest by the hands of my wife and to some extend that is exactly what had happened. This is my story and I am sticking to it.
At the time, in the late1980's, I was the single most successful architect in Omaha, Nebraska both in volume and critical acclaim. Taking in to consideration the city's size and the quality of colleagues in the business that was saying a lot. Allie and I met shortly after I graduated from MIT and she graduated from the University of Nebraska School of Law. I was twenty-eight at the time because of a four-year stint I pulled in the Army.
My father, James Peckley, owned a large insurance group as well as a development conglomerate so my family had a few bucks lying around. Upon graduation, Dad commissioned me to build an estate between Plattsmouth and South Omaha. It's amazing what two million dollars could do back then to make a house look rich. I designed the house after Frank Lloyd Wright, which actually was done at my mom's request but I added a few nice touches. It was the first home that I designed and built from scratch. It was received very well by the regional architectural snobs and they dubbed the style the Omaha Prairie Revival. I made it into Architectural Digest and several home magazines.
Dad funded my architectural company and we set up in Old Town. With the residential section of our business, I was very much in demand and very pricey. The fifth house that I built was for Calvin McManus a famous divorce attorney. He hired a firm outside of his divorce mill to draw up and execute the building contract. Allison Morse was in her second year with the James and James Law Firm. It was a small company that specialized in contract law.
Allison was fairly tall. The top of her auburn head came to eyelevel and I was six-two. She had an oval face with high cheekbones and emerald green eyes. She was slender and had medium small but perky breasts that were framed in a blouse with adequate cleavage. Her smile was killer.
I took Art Folsom our best general contractor with me to their offices to sign the contract. To say I was smitten was an understatement. I had dated in college all four years and had a girlfriend that I had been going out with since I returned to Omaha. I never had really been in love. I did not have an agreement with Marie that we would date exclusively and I knew Marie had several dates in the time I was going with her and vice versa.
I asked Allison out and was pleasantly surprised to discover that she was equally taken with me. I cut it off with Marie after just a week of dating Allison. She was very impressed with my etiquette. Allison's last boyfriend had promised to marry her and they had pledged faithfulness. He did not live up to his end of the bargain and when she found him two timing her she was crushed. She appreciated that I let Marie down as easy as possible. The good news was that Marie was not any more serious than I was about a committed life together. It was hard for her to give up the comfort of a boyfriend but again she knew we weren't destined to be together.
I proposed to Allison and she accepted. We married in June, two weeks after the completion of the McManus house and took our honeymoon in Spain. Allison's parents were quite affluent; he was a well known Omaha cardiovascular surgeon and mom was the general manager of a family owned new car dealership.
Allison and I got along very well and we had a very happy marriage. Our home was one I had designed and built as a bachelor. It was eclectic, but it was a luxurious five thousand square foot home. We had a daughter Anna Yvette four years into our marriage. The two of us settled into a very domestic but very happy lifestyle, that was, until about two months after our fifth wedding anniversary. Because I had developed international as well as American acclaim, I spent several days out of state. I usually managed to take Allison along on some of my more exotic intercontinental trips but because of her career, she rarely went with me to the stateside destinations unless there was something special going on.
When I came home from my Arizona trip, which was four months previous to the falling out, she seemed a little aloof and perhaps agitated. I asked her if anything was the matter and she said that she had a long day at work. She went on to tell me that the partners had just hired a new associate, George Haviland; he was brash and impulsive. The partners had assigned her to watch over him and he was just a source of irritation and waste of her time.
The following weeks cascaded downhill. My love life remained the same for a month but Allison was becoming more pensive and withdrawn. We had been having sex several times a week when I was home and that tapered down to a weekly roll in the hay starting about three months from my return. I had the impression that Allison was not with me.
The exception was when I got home from a long trip and she appeared to be extremely amorous. It was like she couldn't get enough and then soon enough we would revert to occasional and uninspired sex. I wasn't full blow suspicious, but thoughts were beginning to form
Things were unveiled the night I returned from my New Jersey trip. I returned two days early due to a very savvy contractor and his close working relationship to the owner. I decided to surprise Allison. I had a very plain company car that I took to long term parking. That way I never had to be picked up at the airport. It was not a vehicle worth stealing so I didn't worry as I would have, had I left my El Dorado. I parked in the front of the house and went in the back way around one in the morning.
I slipped into the dark bedroom, put my suitcase in the corner, went to the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. I took a quick shower, shaved and cleaned up. I turned the lights out, went to my chest of drawers in the dark room, slid on a pair of jockeys and slipped into bed. I snuggled up to Allison and wrapped my arm around her front. I noticed that she was completely nude; such was a rare occurrence these days. We would often go to bed naked during the first two years of our marriage and then that tapered off to both of us wearing something to bed every night. Her frequent apparel was a tee-shirt and French cut panties.
While I was contemplating this I started stroking her breast. She made some contented sounds in the back of her throat and then stated in a sleep coated voice, "I didn't think you would be back, Sweetie." I took a few seconds as I tried to wrap my brain around her choice of words. She didn't say, "I didn't think you would be back today," and she rarely called me Sweetie; I was always Honey.
"I wanted to surprise you, Dear," I replied some what befuddled.
She shrieked and sat up so fast that I was amazed she didn't get whiplash. It was evident that I had been successful in surprising her and equally evident that she thought she was talking to someone else.
I popped out of bed and turned on the light. The room looked a shambles. I strode over to the bed and ripped the covers from the bed. She gave me another shriek. Sure enough there was a wet spot under her hips and now I could smell the sex. I grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her legs apart and the recent sexual activity was obvious all over her matted pubes. She was blindsided; her eyes had that "caught in the headlights" look and then fear took over.
"Fuck!" I said, no pun intended. I didn't want to know. She was sobbing as I dropped her leg with unconcealed revulsion. I did an about face, grabbed my suitcase and went to my folk's home. It was about a twenty minute drive from our house. They had an outbuilding that doubled as a cabana and guest house. A large bedroom and bath was upstairs and a living room, kitchenette and two dressing rooms were down. There was a carport where I could park my Escalade.
.... There is more of this story ...