"Oh god baby, that's it, like that, oh yes, oh yes, push baby, push it in deeper. Come on lover, fuck me hard, fuck me."

Her raven black hair was spread out in a fan across the white pillowcase; her legs were spread wide and her feet, still in her high heels, were pointed straight up at the ceiling. The man, his name was Dave, was ramming his cock into her as hard and as fast as he could go. She was clawing at his back and her nails were leaving red marks on his skin.

"Yes baby, yes, fuck me hard, make me cum. Get me there lover, get me there."

My cock was as hard as a rock as I watched the action on the bed, but I wasn't stroking it, I needed both hands to hold the video camera steady. Another minute of, "Oh yes, oh yes, make me cum baby, make me cum" and Dave announced that he was cumming:

"Push it deep lover, push it deep and hold it baby. Let your juice get to my eggs baby, breed me baby, breed me."

He gave one final thrust and held himself deep in her while his sperm shot from the end of his cock and raced for her eggs. He held still for a minute or so and then he pulled out and fell to the bed beside her. The two were silent for a couple of seconds and then Dave said:

"If I do knock you up are you going to name the kid after me?"

"Don't be silly baby. I'll name him after my husband. He will be Robert Lawrence Stackman, Junior."

"What if it's a girl?"

"It won't be lover, not with a strong, virile daddy like you."

"What if it is actually his baby?"

"That limp dick couldn't get me pregnant on his best day. The only thing his little dick is good for is peeing."

"I don't understand it. If you have such a low opinion of him why do you stay married to him?"

"Because he makes damned good money and he is every woman's ideal husband."

"How is that?"

"I have him wrapped around my little finger. He does what I want, when I want and he smiles and says, "Yes dear."

"Doesn't sound like much of a man."

"He doesn't have to be one lover, that's what I have you for."

Dave looked at his watch, "I'd better get going. He should be getting home soon."

She grabbed his limp cock, "Oh no you don't lover. I'm ovulating and you are going to get me pregnant."

"What if your husband comes home and I'm still here?"

"The spineless wimp will go and hide in the garage until you leave. Now let me get you up again baby" and she lowered her head and started licking his cock. She did get him up and twelve minutes later she got him off and then suggested that it was time for him to leave:

"Bobby will hide in the garage and be afraid if you are still here when he gets home, but he will believe whatever bullshit story I tell him. Even so, it is probably best to avoid the situation if I can. I'm worn out baby, you let yourself out okay? I' going to put a pillow under my ass and lay here and let your baby juice drain down to my eggs. Call me tomorrow and we can set up the next time."

Dave left the room and I turned the camera off and hid it behind some clothes. I heard the front door close and then Stella said, "You can come out now." I left the closet and looked at my wife lying on the bed, legs spread wide and her cunt matted from her juices and the juices of her lover.

"Was it what you wanted baby? Did you get what you wanted?"

"Oh yes my love, I got just what I wanted."

"Good. Now get over here and get your sloppy seconds. Make me forget that little dicked asshole."

As I walked toward her I was fighting hard not to toss my cookies. I had to fuck the whore, but I didn't have to like it. I had to keep her happy until I finished what I had to do.

It started on a rainy Tuesday. It was a hard rain and the office trailer on the job site had seen better days. It finally decided to give up the fight and the roof and two of the windows started leaking. The water shorted out a couple of electrical circuits and I shut down the computer before it could take a shit on me.

Outside, the heavy rain was turning the ground into a soupy mess so I told the boys to shut off the equipment and call it a day. Normally on a rain day I would go back to the office and catch up on paperwork, but I really didn't feel like doing it that day. No, I thought, screw the paper work and instead let's go home and chase Stella around the house.

There was a strange car in the drive so I assumed Stella had a girlfriend over and my rainy afternoon love making session was not going to happen. I parked the car on the street so the car in the drive could get out and I went into the house.

It is a shock when you find out that your loving wife is loving someone else. The sounds from the upstairs bedroom and the trail of clothes leading from the living room to the stairs told the story all too plainly. My first impulse was to go storming upstairs and do great bodily harm to Stella and whomever she was with, but fortunately for me I have learned to control my temper. I quietly left the house and moved my car down the block to a parking spot where I could watch the house. About two hours later a man I'd never seen before came out the front door, got in the car in the drive and drove away.

During those two hours that I sat watching I wondered how long it had been going on. I wondered why it was going on. Stella and I had only been married for two years and how in the hell could a marriage go to shit in that short length of time? There were no money issues; my construction company was going great guns. Sexually things were fine, at least from my standpoint. We were still going after each other like honeymooners. Something was obviously wrong, but I was at a loss to figure out what it was.

I thought back to see if I could remember anything that might give me a clue as to when Stella had started being unfaithful, but nothing came to mind. None of the classic signs had appeared; the strange phone calls, the unexplained absences, the tapering off of sex. None of that had happened. One thing I did know — I was going to do something about it and Stella and her lover would not be pleased with it.

Electronics Avenue sold me most of what I needed and by the end of the week my house was wired for sound. I had several sound activated tape recorders hidden in strategic places and there was one attached to the phone. Even before I started to do what intelligence agencies refer to as 'harvesting information' I went to work on setting up Stella. That night after a strenuous romp in the bedroom I asked:

"Do you ever have any fantasies?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

"I don't know. What are some of yours?"

"Winning the lottery, getting fucked senseless by Brad Pitt or Matt Damon, have a genie grant me my wish that my tits never start sagging, why?"

"Just curious. Pitt and Damon huh? Any other guys?"

"No baby, and they are only fantasies. You are more than enough for me. What brought this up?"

"Nothing, just a sudden curiosity."

"Bullshit lover, I know you to well. You have a fantasy so you wondered if I did. What is it baby, tell me."

"No, I don't think so."

"Hey! I told you mine, you have to tell me yours. Fair is fair."

"You won't like it. You'll get pissed and I'll end up going a month giving myself hand jobs because you'll lock me out of the bedroom."

"Oh come on now, don't be so melodramatic. Tell me."

I hesitated a second or so and then I said:

"My fantasy is to watch you make love to another man."

She stared at me for several seconds and then said, "You're kidding, right? Me and another man? Who?"

"I don't know, some stranger I suppose. I don't think that I would want it to be anyone I know."

"And you would be where? Sitting on a chair next to the bed? Standing on a ladder and looking in the bedroom window? Or that old cliché, hiding in the closet."

"I think I would be in the closet; I wouldn't want him to know I'd be there."

"How does your fantasy have it happening? You going to bring somebody home with you or do I go out trolling to see what I can pick up?"

"You would be picking a guy up. Christ, I wouldn't have a clue on how to go about asking some guy to have sex with my wife. You wouldn't have any problem."

"Why is that?"

"Girls just naturally know how to pick up guys. You dangle the bait and they come running."

"How long have you had this fantasy?"

"A couple of months now."

"Why? Why would you want to see me have sex with another man?"

"So I could see things that I can't see when we are making love."

"Like what?"

"Do your toes curl when you have an orgasm? Do your feet flail around or point stiffly straight up? What do the folds of your pussy look like as they grip the cock moving in and back? When I'm on top of you I can't see how your body moves. I can feel it move, but I can't see what it does. Is your facial expression different when we do it doggie style, or is the same as when we are in the missionary position? There is probably a lot more, but those are the ones that just came to mind."

"Fascinating. I never would have expected that from you."

"What?"

"That you would want to see me make lov... , no, not make love, but to fuck another man."

"Well, it is only a fantasy, I never expect it to happen."

"But you want it to, don't you? I can tell from the tone of your voice and the way you are talking that you really want it to happen."

I stared at her for several long moments and the said, "Yeah, I guess I really do."

"I'll do anything for you baby and you know that, but I'd be scared to death that seeing another man sliding a cock in me would cause you to hate me."

"Now way Stella, you are my life. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you." Throw your ass out on the street maybe, but not hate you I thought to myself.

"You really want that? No joke?"

"Yeah baby, I do."

"Well I'm not making you any promises, but I will think on it."

The next night after we had eaten and the dinner dishes had been cleared away Stella told me she was going over to her mother's for a couple of hours and that she would be back before bedtime. As soon as she had backed out of the drive I got the recorder that was hidden in the living room and played it back. I heard the doorbell, murmurs that grew louder until they became recognizable voices and then:

"Hurry up lover, sit down on the couch and get it out. You know I love to wrap my lips around it."

"You still going to feel that way when we are married?"

"Hell yes baby. Oooh, look at it, is it ready for me or what."

Then I heard sounds of a noisy blow job for several minutes and then, "Damn lover, that felt like a quart when I swallowed it. Come on lover, now that the quick one is out of the way we need to take this to the bedroom."

The sounds faded as the two of them left the room. As I took the tape out and inserted a fresh one I pondered the "When we get married" that I'd heard. That damn sure sounded like I was going to be divorced or dead.

The next one that I checked was the one in the bedroom, but there was nothing on it but sounds of fucking and a whole lot of moaning.

The one tied into the phone line was next. It had six calls altogether; one wrong number, two telemarketers, a call from her sister that was just general chit chat, a call from her lover asking if it was clear for him to come over and the last call was from Stella to her mother. The last call was the eye opener:

• Hello?

• -Hi mom.

• Hi Stell. Calling me because you want something again?

• I need for you to cover for me tonight in case hubby calls.

• Who are you meeting, Brad or Dave?

• Brad.

• One of these days you are going to get caught Stell. You do know that, right?

• No I won't and with any luck you won't need to cover for me any more.

• You are finally going to get the divorce?

• No. I still need another year so I can make sure that I know where all the assets are.

• Don't be greedy honey; get out before you get caught.

• Another year could mean another quarter million mom. Besides, I'm not going to have to worry about getting caught. I'm going to turn Bob into my very own cuckold. I'm going to do Brad and then Dave right in front of him.

• Honey, I'd think long and hard about that. My advice is don't do it. Playing games could backfire on you.

• No mom, I'll be okay, you'll see. So, are you going to be home so you can cover for me tonight?

• All right honey. What's the excuse?

• How about I'm helping you make a quilt for Gram for her birthday?

• Okay.

• Thanks mom, I'll call you tomorrow.

And I'd always thought that Stella's mom liked me. That call told me that my marriage wasn't in trouble. It told me that I didn't have a marriage. What I had was a con game in which I was the target. All I could say was, "Shame, shame mother in law. When I get done with you you will rue the day you agreed to alibi your slut of a daughter.

For the next week I collected audio tapes of Stella talking to her mother and both her lovers (neither it seemed knew about the other) and of all the fucking that was going on in the living room and bedroom. I knew Stella had taken the bait and all I could do was wait for it. Friday I came home from work to find Stella dressed in a short skirt, low cut blouse and wearing her highest pair of heels.

"We going somewhere tonight?"

"Not we baby, just me."

"Oh? And just where are you going dressed like that?"

"You like? Does it look sexy?"