Chapter 1

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.