Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Cheating, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Melinda had everything she'd ever wanted - then she fucked it all away. Her husband Tim made sure she paid for her infidelity. A big mess takes a long time to clean up.
1 - The Shuffle
Last night I treated my wife like a queen. We've been going through a rough patch lately and this seemed the time to set things right. I'd taken the day off from work, ostensively to take our two kids (one of each; Jack fourteen, Chayna twelve) to a weeklong soccer camp, but mostly to make sure everything was perfect. I began by sending two-dozen long stem red roses to Melinda at her work. I wrote the note myself:
Roses are red
My love for you true
My plans for tonight
Will make it clearer to you
Dinner's on me
Dessert is just you
Seconds and thirds
I guarantee you
Yeah, I know, not exactly Shakespeare but I figured it would do the trick. I was right, but you probably guessed that. I got a very passionate kiss at the front door plus a report on how envious her co-workers were. Melinda fixed me with a lusty gaze, "Lucky doesn't being to describe the night you're going to have."
I took charge immediately and corrected her - "this night is all about you." Step two was to draw my lovely wife a steamy bubble bath, complete with a glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay. I told her to take her time while I got dinner ready. Not that I was cooking, I simply drove to her favorite Italian place and picked up dinner for two. I popped it into the oven upon my return. I'd just finished setting the table when I heard Melinda behind me.
"You are a naughty, naughty boy." I turned to see a vision in red. Melinda was wearing everything I'd bought for her; the peignoir, the bra and panties set, the garter/stockings and the shoes - red stiletto's the screamed "fuck me NOW!" She had no idea just how naughty I planned on being. Dinner and lots of wine later I directed her to our bedroom. She followed willingly, if a little unsteadily, as I slowly undressed (the shoes, stockings and garter remained in place) her along the way. Laying her on the bed I rained kisses all over her body. I sucked her nipples until they were red, swollen, and erect. I nibbled that certain spot at the base her neck until she was squirming beneath me. Basically I tortured her with foreplay; constantly moving around her body as soon as she got really into whatever I was doing.
She started pushing my head towards her cunt. With deliberate slowness I licked my way down. I sucked and tugged at her labia. I even rimmed her teasingly, not really licking her ass so much as just getting real close. She started mewing as I did it - that was an interesting reaction.
"Oh, so you like me kissing your ass do you?"
"You have no idea." It was more a growl than anything else.
She cried out when I finally connected with her clit. I was the proverbial man on a mission as I deliberately and very softly licked her clit using the alphabet, first lower case and then upper. With the alphabet completed I started on prime numbers only to have Melinda beg me to make her cum. Oh how easily I obliged by sucking her clit between my licks and flicking my tongue rapidly over it. She came with a screeching yowl of delight.
I released her clit just as her hand was moving in to push me away (she gets super sensitive down there when I tease her before pleasing her.) I climbed up between her thighs and pressed my cock against the slit of her cunt - and I didn't move. Melinda went a little crazy at that point. "Inside! I need you inside me. Fuck me, put it in me - now!"
I put it in her all right; I thrust my hips forward as hard and as fast as I could. She grunted when I hit bottom. Then I pulled out of her as slowly as I possibly could. Fast, hard and deep followed by slow, slow withdrawal. Every time I started pulling out she was lifting her hips toward mine as fast as she could trying to control the pace and contact until she was exhausted from her effort. I fucked her through a second and then third cum before we screamed our simultaneous orgasms.
We rested for a few minutes, saying those words that lovers say. Actually I was doing most of the talking Melinda was somewhat incoherent. I told her again and again how much I loved her.
Then I went down on her again - this time adding a finger then two. I started rimming her ass with my tongue exerting more and more pressure. Melinda moaned as her head was turning side to side, begging me for another fucking as I actually fucked her ass with my tongue. I rose up between her thighs, hooked her heels on my shoulders and pushed my cock into her squishy cunt. I stroked in and out slowly then pulled out and repositioned my cock until it centered in her little brown rosebud. I told her I was going to fuck her ass.
Her face was a masque of conflicting emotions. She wanted me in her again - just not exactly where I was planning on going. We'd done anal a couple of times, usually when she was fall down drunk. She was buzzed, but nowhere near drunk. We both knew I wasn't going to force her, but it was clear that I was intending to press the issue - so to speak. I played my trump card (I can't tell you how tempted I was to call it "my hole card.") "Forgive me for being such an asshole these last couple of weeks?"
Her answer was a pushing of her ass against my cock and just like that - I was in. She whimpered at first. Once she got used to it she got into it. I kept a steady pace as I diddled haphazardly with her clit. She seemed to be enjoying the butt-fucking; doing that teeth sucking inhale, open mouth exhale thing. I allowed my own orgasm build without letting her know. I suppose she was curious when my thrusting became an arrhythmic bucking. My strangled cry of orgasm announced the filling of her ass with cum Ð I loved it.
She figured out what was happening and increased her own thrusting; striving for her own orgasm. I let her movement push me out of her. I staggered back and sat down on the floor. I couldn't help smiling when I saw her hand dive between her thighs as she masturbated toward orgasm. She never quite got there though. I think the combination of too much wine, a sore and now empty rectum, and my inconsistent stimulation of her clit had her too far off Ð she gave up after a few minutes.
I listened to her pant in frustration then I crawled into bed next to her and fell immediately asleep. I slept very soundly. Awaking early the next morning, I showered, and was out the door before she knew it. I left a note reminding her that I would have to work late to make up for taking off the day before.
Oh I definitely had my work cut out for me today.
Today - I, Timothy Allan Pick, am sitting in ambush. I'm hunting slut. I checked my watch - any minute now.
The slut would be my wife of sixteen years, Melinda; the aforementioned queen of last nights amorous activities. I've no doubt she woke this morning with a sore ass and a certain level of frustration as I'd left her hanging on that final orgasm. And I know she wanted to complain to me about that as she done in the past, but I'd expertly avoided her calls, my voice mail telling her I was in meetings all day. Yeah - any minute now.
Melinda's been cheating on me for, well as near as I can determine, the better part of a year. I've been sure for the last month, suspicious for two before that. My suspicions were based on the little things that flow back and forth between couples; the behaviors, the habits, and most importantly the easy evasions that hint something's not quite right here.
For instance, there were lots of little things that by themselves were all innocently explained. Things like our sex life being slightly down while Melinda dressing sexy for work clearly up. She was feeling it - I sure as hell wasn't getting it. I know I know that's not much to go on Ð there was more.
One of the primary incidents that caught my attention and coalesced my observations into out right suspicion was a night out - without the kids. Melinda met me at the restaurant having come directly from work. Come turned out to be the operative word, because Melinda had the unmistakable glow of someone who'd just had really good sex. It was in her eyes, her face, and particularly in the way she moved. That night when I should have gotten lucky she begged off sex citing a mild yeast infection. I may have settled for a blowjob that night but I sure as hell was setting well with her excuse. I decided to find out what was really going on.
So I started checking up on her; monitoring her time away from me, checking the laundry, and listening very, very carefully to everything she said. It's amazing the things you pick up in common conversations when you really pay attention. I've always operated on the idea that a woman will do everything she can to avoid an outright lie. This doesn't mean you'll get the truth, it means you have to really listen and consider all of the possible meanings of the words being spoken. It's almost as if you were playing verbal chess - so many possibilities and permutations.
I was surprised to discover a subtle undercurrent of disrespect permeating our interactions. There was an undeniable condescension - I seemed to have lost my former position in the hierarchy and equality of our relationship. That and it was difficult to get a hold of her at work on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Even though in my mind my suspicions had turned to certainty there was nothing worth going to see a lawyer about.
Then I found what I needed, actual physical evidence; a pair of cum-crusted black sheer panties (inadvertently misplaced beneath the washing machine). I knew the last time I'd seen Melinda wearing these panties. I knew to the day the last time we'd had sex. The discrepancies between these two dates added up to infidelity. As far as I was concerned at that point she was more likely guilty than innocent Ð for the first time in our marriage I started considering a divorce.
Confronting Melinda was a little more problematic. I mean she'd been lying to me for who knows how long. I assumed that she had her cheating excused by some form of perverted rationalization. Even though I was moving towards divorce I wanted to give her the opportunity to come clean. I decided on a simple straightforward approach. I suggested another husband and wife only night out reminding her that she "owed me." I asked her specifically to wear the black sheer panties. That evening as she got in the shower I reminded her about the panties and she said I wouldn't be disappointed. Dinner was fine as I generously poured on the attention and the wine. By the time we got home Melinda was as horny as I'd seen her in years.
"Strip for me." I lay back against the headboard hands behind my head. "C'mon you sexy thing - show me what you got." Melinda began to sway drunkenly but shook her head.
"C'mon Melinda you owe me. We haven't had sex in almost a month" (actually it was just 2-1/2 weeks but I wanted her to say that.) I waggled a finger at her.
"We had sex the day you went on that trip - it's only been (she paused then held up two fingers) two weeks."
"Two and a half weeks."
"Fine. Two and a half weeks." One fact agreed too. "Come on you sexy thing - take it off."
"Okay. But don't expect this every time you take me out." I nodded my head as Melinda slowly disrobed. Shoes first, then stockings (she showed me a lot of leg, but no panties were visible) her blouse came undone slowly as she labored over every button. Off it came and underneath she was wearing the sheer black bra that went with the panties. She really put the tease on taking off her bra - shoulder strap pushed down, then strap pulled back up. Then both straps were down and stayed down.
She did a slow turn and when her back was to me she reached behind and unclasped her bra. Damn she was good. She slowly turned back to face me. With her bra unclasped she cradled her breasts in the bra cups. Then she bent forward, lowering the cups as I hooted "nipples" before lifting it away and throwing it at me.
"I can't wait to see those black panties babe." I rubbed my crotch. Ha! I saw a wave of anxiety sweep across her face. It only served to heighten my readiness. I was ready for some kind of trick on her part. She didn't disappoint me.
She unzipped her skirt bent over and hooked her thumbs in the material.
"Stop! Straighten up Melinda, I want to see your pussy through those black sheer panties."
"Hey, who's doing this strip tease anyway?" She was trying to joke but I heard the irritation beneath her voice.
"Hey, I thought this was about pleasing me. I want to see those panties."
"What's the big deal with those panties Tim. C'mon. I'm horny, you're horny..."
"I gave you those as an anniversary gift last year remember? They symbolize our marriage, the intimate bond of our love for one another. C'mon humor me - drop the skirt and let me see those panties."
Melinda let the skirt fall revealing no panties. Not only were there no panties, there was no pubic hair - she was shaved smooth. She put her hands on her hips, "Ta-da."
I was temporarily taken aback. I hadn't expected this. Fortunately, my body did not betray me. An erection right now would have been a point for her. I was surprised at how quickly I re-seized the initiative. "Where are the black panties? Put the black panties on and start over."
"Ah Tim, look a little closer. I've shaved for you, I'm bare down there."
"Yeah, whatever." I congratulated myself on sticking to the issue and with firing back with a nasty retort. "I asked to see my wife in her anniversary black panties... not my wife looking like a porn star."
"Porn star?" She was off balance for a moment, and then her disrespect for me came roaring to the fore. She was actually shaking, "I did this for you..."
"Says who? I never asked you to shave, I asked for the black panties." I was ready now and knew the perfect line. "Personally, I think that makes you look slutty."
"Slutty?" Her eyes narrowed as she flushed with anger.
"Just put the panties on... please." I changed my tone to a more accommodating one.
"What is with you and those damn panties." She was losing it and I couldn't have felt more in control.
"I like them! I like the way you look in them. Why is it so hard for you to do one simple thing for me? Would you please put the panties on."
"I couldn't find them Tim, all right?" She was furious with me. "They're probably in the wash."
"You always wash your lingerie together, you have the bra, where are the panties?" I was not about to let this go.
"I told you I couldn't find them." She was getting pissed and I just got calmer and calmer.
"Hey, don't get mad at me. I'm just the guy who gave them to you and asked you to wear them for him." I shrugged in innocence. "All you had to do is say something earlier. I wouldn't have insisted if you had told me the truth. All you had to do was be truthful, what's so hard about that? So the last time you wore them was right before my trip. I remember because you looked so sexy in them when we were getting ready for bed? You took them off - hey, maybe they got kicked under the bed?"
"Look Tim, can we just forget about the damn panties right now." The horniness was draining from her face. I could see a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. "Can't you just make love to me?"
"Sure no problem." Melinda sighed in relief. I wasn't done with her yet. "I think I remember where I bought those. Man they really meant a lot to me."
"Yes Tim." Her voice was edged with wariness. "I can see that." She stepped toward the bed, her desire clearly ebbing.
"Hmmm, the last time I saw you with them on was right here in this room?" I rolled off the bed and knelt beside it, lifting the sham. "You took them off before we had sex, right? (She nodded) I think you were standing right about here - remember?"
"I remember Tim. I was standing here, I took them off and we had sex. But now, I'm standing here, I'm not wearing them and I seem to be developing a headache. I think I'll give you a rain check on the rest of the evening." Melinda began to pick up her clothes.
"Whoa what's the problem? They're just panties - no big deal." Melinda looked miserable. "Are we okay here? Is there something I've done? I mean it's been two and a half weeks since we had sex, I make a simple request and now I'm in the doghouse. Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't know where the panties were? What's so hard about being honest with me? Why would you try to hide something like that?"
"I don't know. I didn't want to disappoint you. I know it's been awhile since we've been together. We're both so busy with careers and family." She was looking about as miserable as I had ever seen her. "I guess I've turned next-to- nothing into a big to-do. I'm sorry Tim."
"I'm sorry too Melinda. Well how about we re-schedule - well looky here." I smiled as I pulled out the crusty underwear and extended them to her. She took them; looking puzzled at first, then momentarily horrified, and finally (not to mention surprisingly) confident.
"So that's where they've been? I thought I'd looked there." I had to give her credit for a very quick recovery.
"Go ahead, put them on."
"They're filthy Tim. I'll make sure you're the first to see them after I wash them."
"That's it?" I had to admire her brazenness.
"Why? Is there something else?"
"We haven't had sex in two and a half weeks. We agreed the last time you wore these you took them off before we had sex. Explain to me what they're all crusty with?" I silently congratulated myself on not sounding accusatory as I held them out to her. "It looks like cum."
What happened next was a bravura performance of lies and evasions. We were 'wrong' on the dates and timings of when we'd had sex. She even made a big deal over "realizing" that I suspected her of 'seeing someone else.' I was 'jealous over nothing.' The capper - she though it was 'cute' that I suspected her of being 'a sex-crazed vixen.'
I apologized profusely for my jealousy and poor memory. I watched a expression of confidence glow from her and saw it for what it was Ð she thought I was some kind of stupid idiot. I'm sure she thought everything was alright. It wasn't all right. She was 'wrong, ' it wasn't 'nothing, ' and there is nothing cute about being a 'slut.' And I sure as hell was not an idiot.
My apologies dissolved into a white-hot silent fury. My anger ushered in a change of perspective. I was no longer in doubt that she was fucking someone else. As far as I was concerned our marriage was over. I knew that, and soon, she would know it too.
You want to know what's funny - when you're no longer in denial, you can actually find out a lot in a very short amount of time. I wanted incontrovertible evidence - basically I wanted to catch her in the act - and I was willing to do whatever it took. It's amazing what they can do with modern GPS equipment, a tap on your own phones, a bit of computer snooping and a couple of digital voice recorders. All too soon I had a fairly clear picture; who he was, what they did, how often - and most importantly - when they planned to meet next.
Her lover was some guy named Ernie. They met two to three times per week (Tuesday, Thursday, and frequently Saturdays), usually at a motel on the other side of town. It all seemed so routine when you listened to the recordings. The biggest surprise for me was the complete lack of guilt on Melinda's part. In the taped conversations I was usually characterized as simply someone to be scheduled around. That was it - I was a complication to their being together.
When I realized Melinda's utter lack of concern and the depth of her disrespect for me. I went from any last considerations of possible reconciliation - with her really having to make it up to me - to absolute retribution, she was going to pay.
I wasn't going to fight for her - she was now the enemy. I was going to fight her for everything. It's amazing what that kind of clarity that can do for you.
I can even tell you the exact moment that I reached that tipping point. It occurred in the hearing of her side of a single conversation shortly after the panty incident. A voice recorder in her car got this side of a cell phone conversation between Melinda and Lover Boy.
Melinda: Suspicious? - not any more. Tim trusts me completely. You should see him go out of his way to be nice to me. It really is quite cute.
Melinda: I just explained that the crusty semen in my underwear he'd found was his. I said that I'd been looking for weeks for those panties. I thanked him for finding them. He didn't just buy it without a second thought Ð he apologized to me.
Melinda: (laughing) Yeah but he's my dumb ass.
Melinda: Yeah you know how much I need it. Be patient I'm almost there.
Melinda: Don't talk nonsense Ernie, I've told you before I love Tim, he's my husband.
Melinda: Alright, I love you too. But in a different way... thank God I don't have to choose. I have the best of both worlds. A husband who loves me and a lover who fucks me.
It's funny the things you can consider when you no longer care about the other person. The bitch was going to pay - big time.
2 Ð Playing The Cards You're Dealt
My payback was multi-pronged; I wanted Melinda to suffer short-term, mid-term, and long-term. If things went as planned Melinda would never forget her betrayal. I can't say I was looking to put a hurt on Ernie, as far as I was concerned he was just an opportunistic prick. If collateral damage came his way, so be it.
Our kids were a different story; I wanted to protect them from the initial blast of our family dissolving. Plus I wanted it all the blame to land on Melinda. I wanted her to look into their sad, pain-filled faces and know that she alone was responsible. In that way they actually determined my timing. I waited for the school year to end and arranged for them to attend a weeklong soccer camp at a University a couple of hours drive away. The camp ran Monday through Friday.
I dropped the kids off Monday morning and took the time to talk with the camp directors. I explained that I was having serious problems with their mother involving faithfulness and drug use (I tossed that in for effect, it definitely got their attention.) I told them I'd be filing for divorce tomorrow or the day after, depending on when she dragged herself home. I wanted to shield the kids during the initial days of anguish. The directors were very sympathetic.
Today, Tuesday was the day of reckoning. Melinda was scheduled to meet Ernie at four in the afternoon. I spent the day getting my ducks in a row; divorce papers ready, locks changed, bank accounts and credit cards taken care of. This was a day Melinda would never forget.
I checked my watch again - timing was all-important.
I smiled grimly when I saw her car enter the parking lot - Operation Slut Slap Down was now operational. I called Melinda's work as soon as I saw her car turning into the parking lot. I left a quick message on her voicemail saying there was an emergency and to call me on my cell phone as soon as possible. Ernie arrived a few minutes later; damn he was young - mid twenties by my guess.
Any remaining trepidations about my intended course of action vanished when I saw Melinda enthusiastically kiss Ernie. I called her cell phone while she was still kissing him. She looked at her phone and did what I thought she would; she let it ring. I hung up at the start of her voicemail and called again. I figured she would either turn her phone off or lock it in her car (that way she had plausible deniability if I was to ask her later why she didn't answer) She chose option number two and locked the phone in her car. That's when I left a message that said there was a family emergency and that she needed call me as soon as she could. I watched them enter the room and began to call and hang up every couple of minutes. I planned on leaving dozens of "missed call" flags on her phone.
I waited about twenty minutes, figuring they were at the very least naked if not fucking, then drove my rental car to a spot next to Melinda's. I opened my trunk (best to look natural in case anyone was looking my direction - all they would see is some guy with the trunk of his car open.) Did you know you can unscrew the inner part of a tire valve stem and the air whooshes out in no time at all? In less then three minutes I flatted both tires on the driver side of Melinda's car and then screwed the inner valves back into place. I took half a dozen roofing nails that I had shortened to about 1/4" in length and pushed them into the thick portion of the tire tread. It looked as if she'd have run over a bunch of nails - tough luck.
Ernie's truck received some special treatment (okay, I wasn't looking to physically hurt Ernie, but since I had the opportunity I decided to fuck with him too.). I had borrowed a small floor jack, so I jacked up the front of his car and loosened the oil pan bolt until it was just holding on. I lowered his car, put the jack in my trunk and closed it. I was finished with everything in less than fifteen minutes. I drove off and waited for them to finish.
They came out of the room about an hour later with more kissing and hugging. The only noticeable difference was that Melinda's movements were more languid and affectionate - she gets that way after sex. Her movements were anything but languid when she saw the two flat tires - she was gesturing and waving her arms around as she walked front to back alongside her car. Ernie must have said something stupid because she turned and said something that had him putting his hands up in front of him as he shook his head and backed away Ð the idiot.
I called her phone. She looked in the car and fished around in her purse for her car key. I hung up just as she opened the door. I swear you could see her flinch when she saw the number of missed calls. It was show time. I saw her dial and prepared myself for my performance.
"Hi Tim? Have you been trying..." Her voice sounded shaky and nervous.
"My God Melinda. Where have you been?" I was yelling into the phone. I paused to take a breath.
"You don't have to yell Tim. I can hear you just fine." Oh I was more than familiar with that tone of voice.
"I've been trying for hours to get a hold of you? Where are you? Why aren't you at work?" I had my voiced pitched right at the edge of panic. Melinda started to stammer out some lame excuse.
I started talking over her. I began to crinkle some paper and break up my speech pattern. "Be quiet and listen. There's been a serious <crackle>at the soccer camp. Both kids have been taken to <crackle crackle crackle>I'm on my way to the <crackle crackle> Hospital. They're <crackle> for emergency surgery. The doctors<crackle crackle> sure if <crackle> make it. Hurry, shit my battery's dying. Did you get that<crackle> Medical Center <crackle>? I'll meet you there. Hurry Melin..." I hung up and turned off my phone.
I could see her shouting into the phone. Then she swung into action. Melinda pushed Ernie to his car and soon they were heading for the freeway. I waited until they were out of sight then drove back to Melinda's car. I pulled the phony nails out of her tires and re-filled them both with cans of flat fix. She was going to need her car before the end of the day. I had two more calls to make before I drove home.
I headed for the freeway they would be taking to get to the University. I stopped at the first emergency call box on the freeway and pulled out two of my voice recorders. I was soon talking to the state highway patrol. I pitched my voice low and added a southern drawl. "Hi officer, ah want to report a case of... ah road rage ah guess you'd call it. Ah was going the speed limit (I said that with emphasis) and this blue Toy-yota pick-up just came flying up behind me - right on my ass, 'scuse my language. I s'pose I should have pulled over, but - well, anyway this crazy guy starts leanin' on his horn. Then he swings out around me - Ah'm surprised he didn't hit anyone - and swerves up right next to me. Almost hit me, bad as that was, Ah mean ah have my wife and kids with me, then he sped up and cut right in front a me... ah got a partial plate just the last three numbers; 3-9-2. My name is..." I pressed a recorder.
An angry female voice blared out of the speaker. "Tell them about the gun Harold. I saw a gun. That crazy asshole flashed a gun at us."
I turned away from the phone. "Honey, ah didn't see it. Look ah'm just telling them my name..."
I pressed the second recorder. "So those crazy people can track us down and kill us? Hang up Harold. Hang up right now! Like this Harold..." I disconnected the call. I'd recorded those phrases with a woman a work who had a booming Southern drawl. I told her it was for a practical joke on my shiftless brother in law. She'd given me half a dozen takes without bating an eye.
I got back in my car and headed home. On the way, I called the soccer camp people and in a world weary voice I informed them that telling my wife I was divorcing her had not gone well. I told them that she had "gone ballistic" and threatened my life. I warned them that she and her lover might be on the way there to try and take the children.
I told them I was just calling to be certain that they wouldn't release the children to them as my wife's lover was a known drug user and it wasn't a safe situation for the kids. The camp operators were very understanding. I asked them not to say anything to the kids unless it was absolutely necessary.
An hour or so later I was sitting at home eating pizza and drinking beer. I figured I had at least one more hour before Melinda might show up. That would be the case if she was able to contact the soccer camp and determine that the kids were fine. I didn't think that likely as I had made all the arrangements and she didn't even have the proper name for the camp let alone the phone number. If she got to the University she would then find out that there wasn't a University Medical Center or Hospital. "If she got there" I had to smile at that. If the oil drain plug had fallen out, she and Ernie were sitting by the side of the road.
A couple of hours later the camp called to report that Melinda and a male companion had indeed shown up. They arrived in the company of the state police. The police had pulled them over for speeding and just about strip searched them looking for weapons - something about a report of road rage. The camp officials assured her that the kids were fine, but that they had refused to let Melinda see them - unless it was in the presence of their father. She asked them "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
That's when one of the camp people mentioned the impending divorce and asked if the man she was with was her husband or her lover. They said Melinda went white as a sheet - then she became hysterical. The State Police had to escort Melinda and Ernie off the campus grounds.
Then the soccer camp folks made my day. I couldn't have planned this part. While Melinda and Ernie were talking, one of the staff mentioned the drug user reference to the police. They pulled Ernie over just after they left the campus and searched him again. Evidently Ernie got pissed and got into it with one of the officers. They arrested him for driving while impaired. Melinda was deemed unfit to drive due to her hysterical emotional state and was taken into temporary custody too.
I received a call from the state police not long after speaking with the camp folks. I had a very nice conversation with a Sergeant Waterston. I explained that my wife had been cheating on me and that I'd finally had enough. Melinda was informed this afternoon that I had seen a lawyer and had filed for divorce. I gave the sergeant my lawyer's telephone number. The sergeant asked if I'd stay available as he wanted to talk to my wife. I said sure, but don't be surprised if she denies everything. I even suggested it was okay with me if they wanted to take a vaginal swab. He declined.
A half- hour later he called back. They were releasing Melinda and that my wife wanted to talk with me. I told the sergeant that she was free to call my lawyer at the number I had provided. He kind of laughed a little when he asked if I was coming to pick Melinda up. I informed them that her car was in the parking lot of the motel where she'd been screwing her lover. He chuckled a little at that.
Ten minutes later, the phone rang and I saw Melinda's cell number on the caller ID. I picked up and said nothing. Finally after a long pause I heard an inhalation and Melinda's quavering voice. "Tim, I don't know what you think is going on but..."
"Please don't make this any worse than you already have. Your adultery has destroyed our family you stupid whore." I hung up and turned the ringer off. I would have loved to seen her face when she heard the new answering message on the machine. "Hi this is Tim. Melinda no longer lives here. Her cell number is..."
It was two in the morning when I heard someone (guess who) pounding on the front door. I walked to the door and shouted through it. "You're things are in the driveway. (I'd packed, okay stuffed, her clothes into a bunch of trash bags) Take your cheating ass and go away."
"Tim, please let me in." Melinda sounded absolutely exhausted. "There's been a terrible misunderstanding. We need to talk. I love you Tim. Please."
We went back and forth, I didn't budge. Finally, I replayed part of a phone conversation I'd taped when she was driving in her car. She was talking to Ernie and saying how much she loved sucking and fucking him. I turned the volume up loud when it came to the part where she said his cum was so sweet and tasty.
Melinda started to cry. I told her to get her stuff and go stay with her lover or whomever else she was fucking. She finally left telling me that she was going to her parents and would be back tomorrow to straighten this all out.
The next day didn't quite work out the way she intended. Actually, none of the days that followed worked out for her. I was as relentless as I was unmerciful.
I had her officially served at work on Thursday. That little stunt had her leaning against the driver side door of my car. I ignored her as I opened the passenger side door.
"I have nothing to say to youÉslut." I was quite pleased with my ability to remain calm.
"Don't you dare talk to me that way? I can't believe you had me served at work! Do you have any idea what you've done?" She was as angry as I've ever seen.
"What I've done? I'll talk to you however I chose. Would you prefer "stupid whore?"
"Tim, I admit that I have made a mistake. We can work through this. I love you Tim. Let's stop this silliness and..."
"Silliness? You're a cheating, stupid whore. If I give you twenty bucks will you go away?"
"How dare you... I am your wife Tim. I am the mother of our children. Now they are going to be coming home tomorrow and they are going to find..."
"Me. They are going to find just me. I imagine you, the stupid whore, will be on your back somewhere with Lover Boy."
"Tim, please stop calling me names. It's not going to help us get through this. We need to talk. I realize you're angry and upset, but we can work through this Tim. Our marriage can be stronger for this."
"Would you listen to yourself you stupid whore?"
"Stop calling me names Tim."
"Okay. Answer me this." I glared at her with an intensity of hatred that surprised even me. She wilted before me. "You chose to "be" with another man. You stripped naked before him, you sucked his cock, you swallowed his cum and let him fuck you. By doing this you risked everything; our marriage, our family, my love and respect for you, and you risked my health - by the way "dearest" I've been tested and I'm clean so far. HIV testing is a six months wait. (She paled at that comment.) You have risked everything that you say you value and hold precious - what did lover boy risk?"
"No... no, it's not like that..." Melinda was shaking.
"You risked everything, he risked nothing. What did you get? Tell me what you got. Jesus Christ Melinda, you're about to lose everything me, our marriage, our family; you're going to LOSE IT ALL! So tell me, what did you get from your lover? What did you got for throwing everything away?"
She just shook her head, unable to speak.
"That's exactly right, exactly right - you got nothing? No jewelry to wear, no scrapbooks filled with photos of your trips to romantic locales, no fancy car to drive - nothing - no secret apartment to call your own, no suitcase full of money to spend however you want Ð you got nothing, nada, zilch - not one damn thing. You've thrown away everything you say you care about and in return you have nothing. Well you're right about one thing. I have absolutely no right to call you a stupid whore. Even a crack whore is at least smart enough to get something for fucking. You fucked another man for which you got nothing and now you're going to lose everything. You're not even smart enough to be a stupid whore. Calling you a whore is giving whores a bad name. I guess that just makes you a really dumb slut."
I drove away with her sitting on the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Fuck her.