Ralph plunged his cock into Debbie's pussy as she buried her face in a pillow conveniently placed on the large sofa. This muffled her moans of pleasure as Ralph demonstrated remarkable stamina and control. As he fucked her, he ran his hands over her ass and back, enjoying every inch of Debbie's voluptuous frame.
"Jesus! Your ass is perfect, Debbie," groaned Ralph. "Your skin is a smooth as glass." As he spoke, his hips kept a steady rhythm.
"Hmmmm," was Debbie's only response as she synchronized her ass gyrations to her lover's movements.
"In fact, your ass is so nice, I have to have some of it right now," he laughed. "You'll love this, Baby."
With that, Ralph pulled his sticky cock from Debbie's soaked cunt and placed his cock on Debbie's anus. His left hand had gathered a fistful of her hair and he began to push.
"No!" blurted Debbie. "I don't want you to do that, Ralph. I don't do anal. Please stop."
Ralph's grin got even bigger as he pushed harder, knowing from experience that an ass can only withstand so much pressure before it will yield to a determined effort.
"You do now, Babe," he laughed. "Relax and it won't hurt as much. You'll get so you like it."
"No!" yelled Debbie as she moved her ass to the side. "I told you not to do it. Now let me up, Ralph," she insisted.
Ralph twisted his hand in Debbie's hair and pulled her head back, stretching her neck uncomfortably. He took his cock in his other hand and placed it at her rosebud again.
"Hold still and relax, Babe!" barked Ralph as he pushed his cock head into her ass. "This will make you my woman from now on."
"It hurts, Ralph. Please stop!" pleaded Debbie. Then she broke into tears as he pushed further into her bowels.
The only sounds in the room were the grunts Ralph made with each push and Debbie's quiet sobs. Finally, Ralph pushed in as far as he could and held still as his ass cheeks flexed. It was obvious he was depositing his sperm deep in Debbie's ass. After a minute of remaining very still, he gradually withdrew his cock. As it came free, a slight popping sound was heard.
Debbie turned her head as far as her position would allow and glared.
"You miserable bastard!" she spat. "I told you not to fuck my ass and you did anyway. What is wrong with you?"
"I'm not your goddamn husband!" Ralph snapped back. "I don't have to worry about making you happy, or mad. That's why I like fucking married women. They can't go crying to hubby, so they just take it. Half the time they invite me back in a few days for another round. You bitches are so desperate for a strange cock you'll do anything."
"You miserable piece of shit!" snarled Debbie. "I don't need your cock, or your goddamn attitude. Get the fuck out, now!"
"I'll leave when it suits me, cunt," chuckled Ralph. "I might want you to suck my cock again so I can fuck that ass one more time."
Debbie climbed off the sofa and stood up. Contempt filled her eyes as she glared at her lover.
"That will never happen again! Now get the fuck out before Kevin gets home and finds you... Kevin!" gasped Debbie.
I was sitting in my easy chair watching and listening to the little comedy/tragedy unfolding before me. They had been so lost in lust that my arrival in our living room had gone unnoticed. Ralph and Debbie both remained frozen, waiting for some explosion from me. I refused to follow the script that had been written about the time Kane and Abel were making headlines. I simply sat there and watched them.
Eventually they became aware of their nakedness and started grabbing up their clothes. Kevin jumped into his jeans and practically ran to the door and was gone, still carrying his underwear, shirt, shoes, and socks.
Debbie sobbed and walked, head down, to the bathroom. I heard her crying over the sounds of the shower. I picked up the remote and turned on the game. I had planned on working all day Saturday, but I had forgotten about my alma mater's game with Notre Dame. I decided that half a day Saturday would have to be enough for my boss and returned home, only to find my married neighbor from down the street rutting with my wife of 18 years. My initial response was violence, toward Debbie, and Ralph. That little voice in my head warned that the consequences of that would be far-reaching and unpleasant for me. I took a deep breath and then took a seat. I was amazed that they had not noticed me sooner. Perhaps I should have turned the game on right away?
Debbie must have spent an hour in the bathroom before she finally emerged. Was she walking a little funny, or was that just my imagination? Or my hope? She went into the kitchen and started rattling pots and pans. Then I remembered that she had invited her parents over for dinner. If I were she, I would be quite concerned what her cuckold husband would tell her parents. About the end of the third quarter she finally came into the living room. I pretended to find the commercial for pizza extremely interesting.
She stood there for a minute hoping for some sort of recognition from me. Finally she walked closer to my chair and cleared her throat.
"I had invited my parents for dinner. Do you want me to call and ask them not to come?" Debbie asked in a quivering voice.
"No, not at all. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary is quite a milestone, wouldn't you say? How many couples stay married that long?" I hoped she might sense a little irony in that.
Debbie sobbed and returned to the kitchen. Just as the game ended, her parents rang the bell. I opened the door and welcomed them with big hugs and hearty congratulations. An hour later we were sitting at the table, having dinner. Our two daughters had come home from their weekend jobs at the local mall. We all toasted Deb's folks. I felt I was quite eloquent.
Debbie's mother asked Debbie if she felt okay at least twice because she was so subdued. The rest of us had a good time. I certainly had no intention of upsetting Debbie's parents, or my kids, by bringing up the afternoon delight I had witnessed.
As always happens, the day finally ended and bedtime swept down upon us. I brushed my teeth and slid into bed. Again Debbie spent an unusual amount of time in the bathroom. I pretended to be asleep when she pulled back the covers on her side and climbed in. I was on my side, facing the other way.
"Kevin, we have to talk," she whispered as she gently shook my arm.
I rolled over and looked at her for a minute. I waited for her to say something, but she didn't.
"So talk, Debbie. Otherwise, I'll go back to sleep."
"I want you to know I really love you, Kevin," she sobbed. "I made a huge mistake and I beg you to forgive me. Please!"
"What mistake was that, Debbie? I have to know what you are talking about before I can say I forgive you, don't I?" I reasoned.
She gasped at my question. "You know very well what I am referring to, Kevin."
I was not the one that was caught cheating. I was the offended party and I would be damned if I was going to put up with any fucking attitude.
"Go to sleep, Debbie, or else say what the fuck you want to say without a bunch of goddamn pronouns and euphemisms," I replied. "I am not going to try to guess what you are evading and grant you a blanket pardon. As far as I know, you could be talking about denting the car, gambling our savings away, spreading malicious gossip, or wearing white after fucking Labor Day."
She was shocked. As in many marriages, Debbie, as the wife, was usually the one to point out my, the husband's, mistakes. I was the one on the defensive most of the time. Did I fix this or paint that? What the hell was wrong with my relatives? Why couldn't I avoid embarrassing her when we were out? Why didn't I get a raise?
I had probably spent, on the average, an hour a week since we were married, trying to defend and explain my words and actions. It wasn't that Debbie didn't have some valid points. It just seemed impossible to make her happy. That had ceased being my goal. I got to the point where I just wanted her to be quiet and leave me the hell alone.
"That thing with Ralph this afternoon was a horrible mistake. I am so sorry and I am begging you to forgive me," Debbie pleaded.
"I am moving my lips, Debbie, but don't seem to be hearing me," I countered. "The word 'thing' is rather vague. Tell me what 'thing' you are talking about and why you feel it was a mistake."
I had to give her credit for not giving up. She looked at me and started in again.
"I deserve this, I know," admitted Debbie. "I had sex with Ralph this afternoon and you saw us. I am so very sorry about it and I want you to forgive me."
"I will try this one more time," I responded. "You are extremely vague. I am not sure if it is deliberate, or not. Are you sorry because I saw you having sex with a fucking asshole? Or are you sorry you were fucked by the asshole? Or both? Why are you sorry, Debbie?"
"I am sorry I did it, had sex with that miserable bastard. I am sorry you saw me getting fucked, too!" she sobbed.
"Now can you tell me why you are sorry? Would you be sorry if I had not come home until the usual time? Would we be having this conversation if I hadn't witnessed Ralph's prowess as a lover?" I demanded. "Would you keep on fucking him till you were caught or till he tired of you? You wanted to talk, Debbie, so please try telling me something. Tell me exactly what you want and what is bothering you. Tell me who else you have fucked, or will fuck. Tell me how many times you and Ralphie-Boy have gotten it on. That would be telling me something I don't know but would appreciate knowing."
"Kevin! That was the only time. You have to believe me. I am sorry because I hurt you and betrayed you. I don't ever want to see him again. I have not, and I will not, fuck anyone else," cried Debbie.
"Okay, Debbie. You're forgiven," I yawned. "Good night." I rolled back on my side and tried to go back to sleep.
"That's it? I'm forgiven? No punishment or penance, Kevin?" scoffed Debbie. "You can just go to sleep?"
Now I was really annoyed. I turned around and sat up. I took a deep breath and framed my answer.
"What the hell do you want me to do, Debbie?" I snarled. "You told me you would be faithful from now on. You said you only fucked him once and you regret it now. Do I have any reason to doubt you, Debbie? Can you think of any reason at all that I wouldn't accept what you are saying as the absolute truth and forgive you?"
"Yes! You caught me fucking a man in the living room, for Christ's sake, Kevin," she wailed. "That is one damn good reason to not believe me any more."
I sat still and looked at her. She had said it, not me. If the situation had been reversed she would be thinking of a thousand different hells to put me through. Then the idea came to me.
"You're a smart girl. If you caught me fucking Sandy Marsh, what would you do about it?" I asked. "I want you to think about that and tomorrow night you tell me what I would have to do to gain your forgiveness for lying, cheating, and disrespecting you and the kids and your parents. If you caught me fucking her nasty ass and cunt, what would you do and say? How would I regain your trust, love, and forgiveness? You are the one that fucked up, Debbie, so you be the one to lose sleep and figure out the solution. For the last time tonight, good night!"
I listened to Debbie cry softly for a couple hours, as I faked sleep. I was in no mood to placate or sooth her. This was one time she would have to dig herself out of a mess and try to make me understand her reasons for fucking up.
As I thought about it, I almost liked it. I had been liberated from ever taking unreasonable shit from her. I had no idea if we would remain married, but I knew that if we did, it would be on much different terms than the past 18 years had been based. I finally fell asleep to the sounds of Debbie's sobs.
I followed my usual Sunday routine. I did yard work and washed the cars with our daughters. They were the reason I would never regret my marriage, regardless of Debbie's actions. We laughed and talked about possible boyfriends, college choices, and their sport teams.
I was still chuckling as I stepped into the kitchen for a beer when I found Debbie crying at the kitchen table. She had a pen and pad and I could see she had been writing something. I felt a twinge of pain for a second or two. It was obvious she was suffering. I popped the top, took a swig, and went back outside.
That night Debbie retired early to our bedroom. The girls and I sat and watched TV on the very sofa where their mother was fucked in the asshole, by an asshole. Debbie had given me two wonderful daughters and I knew I should always be thankful for that. The girls went to bed after the movie and I turned in after the news.
Debbie was sitting bed with her pen and pad, waiting for me. Her eyes were red and puffy. I brushed my teeth and peeled off my clothes. I never wore pajamas. She watched me closely. I know what I would have thought if the shoe had been on the other foot. I would have watched her get ready for bed and wonder if I would ever be allowed next her loving, sweet body.
As I slid under the covers, Debbie began, "This has been very difficult for me, Kevin, but I have written down everything so I would not forget anything. I have to admit that I pray you will not do some of the things I would do. I hope my vindictive nature is not shared by you."
She had my attention. I never realized she understood her actions and motives as anything but reasonable and justified. Did she know she had become a bitch? That I had allowed it?
"For starters, I am afraid I would tell the girls that you cheated on me; to make them like you less and get some revenge that way. Then I would probably throw you out and tell you to go live with your slut, there was no room for a liar and cheater in my bed or house," continued Debbie. I could see she was fighting back tears as she spoke.