Sally's Anal Buddy

by Just Plain Bob

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Gang Bang, Interracial, Anal Sex, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: She loved it in her butt, but he was too big.

It can be quite a blow to your ego when you find out just how dumb you really are. Then again maybe I'm not being fair with myself in using dumb as a description instead of words like unobservant or gullible. I just found out that my wife is fucking around on me and has been for quite some time and I'd not had an inkling of it.

It was only by accident that I found out that Sally has been fucking around on me and I do mean by accident - literally. Sally is an executive in a small electronics firm and one of her perks is a company car. I drive a pick up as my personal vehicle and one day Sally asked me if I would let her use the truck. One of the corporations branch office was in a building that had just been sold and the new owners were not going to renew her corporations lease. Sally needed the pick up to move things and she had gotten permission to let me drive her company car. As a sweetener they also let me use her company credit card for gas for as long as they needed the truck.

I had stopped at the local Safeway on the way home and when I came out of the store I found a crowd around the car. While I'd been inside a couple of teenagers had hit the car and had then attempted to run, but some people had seen it happen, had stopped them, and had called the police. When the dust had settled I was left with a crushed rear fender and a flat tire. I opened the truck and got out the tire iron, which I used to pry the fender off the flat tire, and then I put the spare tire on. I looked for a rag in the trunk to clean my hand, but I couldn't find one. I did find an over night bag and I opened it hoping to find something that I could use. What I found were two pair of high heels, some sexy lingerie and a carton of condoms. I also found an envelope that contained several pictures of a naked Sally and two pictures of Sally having sex with someone. The man's head was not in the photos so I had no idea who it could be.

To say I was upset wouldn't even be close to what I felt. Actually murderous rage would just about cover it. The pictures were dated on the back and according to the dates Sally had been fucking around on me for over seven years. Seven years! Almost the entire time of our marriage. How in the hell could that happen without me noticing something that would make me suspicious? I must have had my head up my ass. Now the question was "what to do about it."

Knowing definitely presented me with more problems than only suspecting. Should I confront her with what I'd found in the trunk or should I dig a little deeper and come up with more information before I faced her. For that matter did I want to confront her at all? A confrontation would have a major effect on our marriage, possibly even leading to a divorce. Did I really want that? We had a good marriage, or at least I thought we did. I certainly hadn't detected any loss of affection over the seven years we had been married and she had been fucking someone else. Our sex life hadn't suffered. In fact, as far as a sex life was concerned mine was definitely a whole lot better than the sex life of many of my friends. Most of them were always whining about only getting laid on the average of twice a week, but Sally was still jumping my bones five and six times a week. I decided that I'd better find out more about what was going on before I did anything. The first thing I needed to do was find out who, how, when and where. The why could come later, after I knew more. That night I told Sally about the accident, but said nothing about what I'd found in the trunk.

I'm salaried and while I put in a good deal more than forty hours a week I don't get paid overtime. I do, however, get comp time for my extra hours. I had about two weeks coming to me and the next day at work I arranged to take five days off. Monday morning I left the house at my usual time, drove to where I could watch the house and settled in to wait. About twenty minutes later Sally came out, got in her car and drove off. I followed her all the way to work and then I found a place where I could park and watch her car. It was the most boring eight and a half hours of my life. Several times I almost nodded off, but I always caught myself. At five fifteen Sally came out, got in her car and drove home. At dinner that night I kept waiting for Sally to ask me why I had followed her to work, or why I had sat all day and watched her place of employment and then followed her home, but she never mentioned it.

The next two days were the same as Monday and I began to think that if something didn't happen soon I might have to hire a private detective. I had more comp time coming, but I couldn't afford to take that much time off work especially at that time of the year - it was my company's busy season. Ten minutes into Thursday's surveillance it was obvious that that something different was going to happen that day. Instead of turning right to go to work she turned left. I made the turn after her and followed her. She turned into the parking lot of the Shangri-La Motel and went into the office. A few minutes later she came out and drove down to the end of the building and parked. She got out of her car, got her overnight bag out of the trunk of the car and then went into unit 116. Five minutes later she came back out, got in her car and drove away. I found a place where I could park and keep an eye on 116 and I sat back and waited. Since Sally rarely came home late I didn't figure that I would have to sit there until five-thirty and I was right. At one-thirty Sally pulled up in front of 116 and went inside. Ten minutes later a Ford F-350 that I knew very well pulled up beside Sally's car and parked. The door to 116 opened and Sally stood there in high heels, nylons and s black bustier as she waited for my best friend to get out of his truck. Once the two of them were inside 116 and the door was closed behind them I started up my truck and drove on home.

I'd known Bobby since the third grade. We grew up three houses from each other and had gone to school together all the way through college. It was Bobby who had introduced me to Sally during our junior year at Michigan State. He had dated her for a while, but when he got serious and asked d Sally to marry him she told him that she wasn't interested in a long-term relationship with him. Not long after that he had introduced me to her. After just being friends for a while I asked her out, she accepted and soon after that I was somewhat surprised to find myself in a torrid relationship that was still going strong a year and a half out of college. It was a relationship that I was very comfortable with and remembering what had happened to Bobby when he proposed I kept my mouth shut. That is I kept it shut until the day she told me to shit or get off the pot.

"If you don't ever intend to marry me you need to tell me now so I can get on with my life."

The wedding took place the following June and Bobby was my best man.

At home I sat in front of the TV and channel surfed, not because I was looking for something to watch, but because I was trying to keep myself occupied while my mind wrapped itself around Bobby's betrayal and Sally's infidelity. I spent the entire afternoon trying to decide how to bring up the subject and what to do about it. In the end bringing up the subject was no problem - Sally did it - but I was still left with the what to do about it part. Sally got home at her usual time and made no comment about my beating her home. She got busy in the kitchen and fixed dinner and then we sat down to eat. Dinner was a very quiet affair and it wasn't until I started to clear the table that Sally spoke:

"Now that you know what are you going to do?"

I looked at her and she said, "Don't quit your day job sweetie, you won't make it as a detective. I've watched you following me all week. I'd been expecting it ever since I saw the dirty hand print on my over night bag when I got the flat fixed on Saturday. I could have skipped my meeting with Bobby today and waited until you weren't following me any more, but I'm tired of hiding it and sneaking around behind your back."

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