I'm Michael "Mic" Wallmann, a married man in my mid forties. My pretty wife Marianne is two years younger. Our daughter Julia is sixteen and our son Melvin is fourteen years old. When this story begins we still are a typical middle class Scandinavian suburban family with fair jobs and fair house. Without any real problems for the time being when the shit hit the fan.
It was a chilly Thursday in November. I had got the flu and decided to remain in bed for the day. But my wife Marianne, who began her work a half hour later than I, was okay and went to the bathroom for a shower. What surprised me was that she took her clothes with her for dressing in the bathroom. My surprise increased when I heard her lock the door. Now I was curious and went to the kitchen drawer for the safety tool for opening the door from the outside when children locked the door from inside and couldn't open it.
I waited a couple of minutes after hearing that she had turned off the shower before opening the door. The sight in the bathroom was marvelous. Marianne dressed in obviously new very sexy laced black underwear and stay up stockings I never seen before, why I asked her, "Why that new secret sexy outfit? Why hiding in here when dressing? Have you got a boyfriend?"
She froze for a split second in her movement and got a worried expression in her face before the reply, "Don't be silly, you ought to know that after the job today Lena and I are going to the mall for our monthly shopping and it may take a couple of hours."
I was feeling like a shit of the flu why I gave her harsh reply, "That secret sexy outfit for buying clothes? Doesn't it fit better on a woman who is trading something without clothes?"
Now she got furious and shouted, "Do you accuse me to be a whore?"
"I didn't accuse you for anything, only said that today you for some still unknown reason are dressed just as a whore."
She continued shouting, "How in the hell do you know how whores are dressed?"
"Ronny Skoog bragged about his experiences at the pub."
The door slammed hard when she left the house and I understood that my marriage was rather down than up. Ronny Skoog was her ex-boyfriend and as long as he did very well as Union boss, Marianne sometimes in angry temper had shouted that she regretted dumping him for me after he cheated her. But after Ronny had been fired and divorced for using his Union credit card at several expensive continental whorehouses during his trips to international Union meetings any comments about Ronny was any longer appreciated by her.
However, I had seen the strange expression on her face when she froze for a split second and knew for sure that my question had hit her hard. I decided to find out some further information and began my investigation at our home office where Marianne paid and kept all our bills in good order in ring binders.
It took me some time to find out several clues what said the something was wrong.
Nothing unexpected in our shared Visa account. While investigating the bills from her private account there were some strange details. Though Marianne and Lena usually went shopping for clothes once a month, always at a Thursday around the middle of a month, none of her purchases was made those Thursdays. They were always done a day or several days before that shopping Thursday.
Shit hit the fan when I found she had bought gas at the Q8 gas station about 25 kilometers from our town during one of her shopping days. Why in the hell could shopping in the mall bring her there far away from town? There was not even a small grocery shop or the café for truck drivers at the gas station. The only remaining possibility was that she had visited one of the small cabins the gas station rented out to tourists, salesmen and cheaters because of a much lower price than for a hotel room in town.
I was convinced about Marianne's cheating once a month during the pretended shopping but had no real evidence. A gas bill wasn't evidence enough for a divorce, at least not for the time being. In my opinion it would be better wait to after Christmas and New Year holidays and use the remaining time to find out with whom she did it.
However, I could even give her some fun during the "shopping" today. The alcohol store at the mall closed at 6 o'clock, and I rang Marianne's cell phone twenty minutes past five. She took the call after several rings and asked with a worried voice, "Something wrong?"
"Yes it is. You are at the mall aren't you?"
"Of course I'm, why do you ask me that?"
"Because I need a favor from the mall. What shop are you at now?"
She sounded a bit less worried when she replied" H&M, why do you ask?"
"Because I need a bottle of brandy for my flu. The alcohol store is very close to H&M, could you please go in there and buy a bottle for me before they are closing at six?" I hung up the phone.
That request caused a real problem for Marianne. If she was at a Q8 cabin having sex with her lover boy, she could maybe be able to fix the brandy by making a quick drive to the nearest alcohol shop and lose more than one hour of her prime time with the lover or she could skip the brandy and take the expected quarrel with me.
She took the quarrel. Obviously she preferred remaining together with her lover, wherever they were and whatever they were doing instead of rushing away for buying my brandy. Back home without my brandy she only said, "Sorry, but it took so much time at H&M that the alcohol store was closed when I got there."
"Bullshit, what did you buy at H&M that took all that time? May I see the receipt?"
Now she knew that she was trapped with a lie and replied shouting, "I paid my clothes with my own money. Why in the hell should I show you any receipt if I had any left."
"Because the receipt shows the time when you bought your damn clothes and you know very well that you need the receipt for getting faulty items replaced. You damn lying bitch simply didn't want to do me that small favor after my argument this morning."
She saw my last statement as a chance to get out of the problem that was why she said, "Stupid of you to expect any favors from me after accusing me to be a whore when I dressed at the morning."
I gave her a bright smile and asked, "Did the lover agree that you were sexy as hell in that new black laced outfit? If you really were whoring with some damn gigolo, please don't ever forget that in this marriage cheating is equal to divorce."
That comment resulted in the worst cursing in my life. I can't deny that I was impressed of what a good actress Marianne really was when she pretended to be offended. Even her ability of swearing made a deep impression on me.
A rather chilly atmosphere existed in our house that evening.
Though it was obvious that Marianne did something behind my back, it still remained for me to find out what she did, where she did it and with whom she did it?
The most important source of information could be her cell phone. We had identical phones and used to charge them in the kitchen. I went up during the night and I found her phone in the charger and switched phones.
The next morning Marianne hurried away to her job without any arguing and I remained in bed. As soon as she was away, I began to investigate her phone. Only one short text message, "A picture coming soon. Waiting for your comments."
It was from a sender whose number I didn't recognize. The phone book contained only her best friends.
My search online about the phone number didn't give me anything. Obviously it was a prepaid phone. However, then I got my lucky surprise when there came a ping from the phone.
It was a picture, obviously taken yesterday showing Marianne in her black sexy underwear and from the same sender as the previous message. The enclosed text said only four words, "Darling you are GREAT!"
Though there was no sender name enclosed, now I knew it for sure. It was the high artistic and technical quality of the picture that solved my question. I knew only one guy who was able to take pictures of such professional quality. That creep could only be Oliver Ericsson, the husband to Rebecca Ericsson, one of Marianne's very best childhood friends. He was well known for his ability with a camera and had once in the time when been heavy boozed at a pub bragged with an almost equal picture of a female co-worker. I had never liked him very much because his bragging about everything; he thought had done better than anybody else.
I was sure that he didn't like me either and it was easy to imagine how much he had been laughing behind my back every time he had fucked Marianne, much prettier than his own wife. One question remained, how could Marianne let her be seduced by that bragging creep?
There was only one and a half month left to Christmas and New Year and that was why I decided remain married over the holidays and keeps a low profile until then. No fighting with Oliver, what didn't mean that he would be left unpunished.
It was busy afternoon for me again. First loading the picture of Marianne to my laptop and I had to admire it. She really looked very much younger and very sexy. That creep Oliver had really done a good job with his camera. What increased my wrath was that the satisfied expression on Marianne's face indicated that the picture must been taken after their sex.
My next mission was a bit more difficult; it took several calls before everything was arranged for Oliver's punishment on Monday. As a native of my hometown I knew enough different kind of people for getting done what I wanted to do and I was convinced that it would be well worth the rather high price.
As expected, Marianne wasn't happy when she came home from her job with my cell phone and didn't got any happier when I screamed and accused her to taken my cell phone. I had deleted the picture from her phone, what probably confused both of them when Oliver asked her about the picture. But as I didn't say anything they hopefully thought something gone wrong when he sent it.
Part one of my revenge came on next Monday when Rebecca and Oliver had gone to their works and their children to their school. A tractor with a wagon filled with about three ton animal dung from a farm emptied the load on Ericsson's lawn in front of the house. As the weather was above zero, a terrible stank rather soon covered a large neighborhood. A large sign in the dung saying "MANURE FOR SALE" didn't do their neighbors any happier.
I can imagine how a furious Oliver had called the police and how his call obviously ended in a quarrel when the police didn't regard his pile of "free" dung as any serious crime that needed immediate action of the whole available force.
At Wednesday breakfast, while reading our local morning newspaper I saw a big picture of Oliver standing next to the "MANURE FOR SALE" sign before his dung. As expected, he was even complaining about the police because they had only asked him to fill a form about his problems and promised to take care of it as soon as possible in the future.
I began laughing loudly and Marianne asked, "What so funny?"
"An asshole in business as dung trader. Now one really can say 'right man in right place'."
Marianne took the paper and I continued my laughing. But of some reason she didn't shared my joy about what she could see. Instead she got red in her face and shouted at me, "You must be insane if you think that is funny."
I kept smiling and replied, "Don't you have any sense of humor left? Dung and a damn asshole is funny, a real funny combination indeed."
"Rebecca is one of my best friends. How can you nasty bastard laugh at her serious problems?"
Now I shouted back, "Is it my fault that the poor Rebecca married that silly worthless asshole Oliver Ericsson? Is it? She must envy you as hell because you are married to a real man."
I don't think Marianne did agree in that matter because she left the table without any reply and gave me a feeling that my wife didn't love me very much for the time being. My comments about Oliver didn't increase Marianne's love for me, if she still did it at all.
Then Marianne got the flu and all thoughts about sex were out of question for the next two weeks. I used the time to investigate her car for any clue about her affair with Oliver but without any result. Then I bought one of those new voice operated mini recorders and hid it in her car.
Neither of us made the first attempt for sex when she was cured. In fact, there hadn't been any sex for me with Marianne since the weekend before her infamous "November shopping" and now it was time for her "December shopping " together with Lena.
Though I had accused her for whoring during her November shopping and expected her to be clever enough to skip her December date with Oliver, he obviously meant so much for her that she took the risk. As expected, we had a quarrel at the morning when I told her that I would see my dentist at the morning and that was why I would leave home slightly later than usual. Marianne accused me of spying to see which underwear she would choose for her shopping day. She got furious when I agreed that it was appreciated to see her less sexy dressed for her strange shopping or whatever she intended to do at the evening.
At the afternoon I gave Marianne a call ten minutes before she left her job for the day and told her that I wouldn't be at home during that evening but said that her mother had promised go to our house for fixing some food to our kids.
Just as expected she shouted at me, "What the hell is so important for you to do this evening?"
"Very special mission my dear, very important indeed. My friends have heard rumors that your friend the dung trader Oliver Ericsson is going to fuck one of his whores at a Q8 cabin. We intend to watch both Oliver and the cabin. I'm sure that Rebecca will be glad to get rid of him when we'll nail him and get pictures of that cheating bastard in action."
As expected, Marianne wasn't happy about my mission. She shouted, "My friend Oliver? He is a friend to our family. You are totally mad, how can you even think about humiliating one of our friends in that insane way."
"Speak for yourself, that asshole has never been my friend. You have always hated cheaters before. Why the opposite opinion about that damn creep now?"
She sounded very angry when she replied, "I will always hate all cheaters, never doubt about that, but I know how much our friends Rebecca and Oliver love each other and that was why I believe them rather than rumors from your stupid so called friends."
What a lying bitch. I would not care about Oliver that evening. I was still alone in my vendetta but Marianne must been scared of my call and cancelled her date with Oliver for that evening and hopefully for the whole month of December. However, it was interesting to see what she would do now when Oliver had to be out of question for that evening.
The thought of Oliver under observation caused Marianne to lose all her interest for the important monthly shopping together with Lena because I tailed her car straight home from her job.
I parked my car on the street at some way from my house, went to Marianne's car on the driveway and opened it with the spare key attached to my own car key and took out the small recorder.
I went to a parking lot and listened to the recorder.
The first recording sounded to be Marianne giving a ride home for one of her fellow workers and it contained nothing of interest but next recording were much more interesting for me.
She had called Oliver, obviously as soon as she got in her car a few minutes after my call to her. Marianne sounded very worried, "Hi darling, we must cancel our date today because some of Mic's friends knows about you renting the Q8 cabin and they are curious about whom you are dating there. They will be watching both you and the cabin at this very moment ... Yes, even Mic is involved in the watching ... He rang me and told me that he would be home late ... Yes, Mic accused me of cheating on him during our last date but he will never think it is with you ... No, no way he will ever suspect you having an affair with me ... Probably some slut at your job will fit in much better ... No Oliver ... No Oliver. No, we can't do that ... No. No way now ... Refusing to fix Nic's damn brandy was a damn big mistake that got him to know I was lying about the shopping ... Now he is suspecting me and searching for evidence ... I can't afford to do anything suspicious again. I was a damn idiot when I agreed to see you today ... I'm going home straight now ... No way Oliver no chance we can't do that, not before January ... I'll see you at our New Year party ... No, no, no, don't even think about anything at my home, no, no, no ... Yes, Oliver I love you too."
After Oliver she had rang Lena, "Hi Lena ... I have to skip my date with Oliver today ... Some of Mic's friends have heard rumors about Oliver and will be watching him during the evening ... Yes, even he is involved, he rang me and told me he would be late ... No, we'll wait to January, maybe longer ... Talk to you later ... Bye."
What a shameless bitch. That was all I needed to know. Until now I had suspected Oliver and even punished him without having any real evidence, but now I knew for sure and had all evidence I would ever need. My next step would be find out a final solution.
Back home one hour later I asked Marianne, "You already at home, sounds strange that Lena and you did a such quick shopping at the Mall just before Christmas?"
She replied, "It would be better that you and I are going together at Saturday looking for Christmas gifts. You are back early from your moral mission?"
"That cheating asshole Oliver seems to have cancelled his date? Somebody must have warned him. Did you do that to save poor Rebecca from a scandal?"
She got ashen gray before shouting, "Don't ever think about me involved in your dirty tricks."
A new closer look at the bills in Marianne's ring binders showed that her "wrong day shopping" had happened since November last year with July as the only exception because of our summer vacation. Marianne had cheated me at least twelve times and now it was obvious to that their November date had been one-year anniversary for them. That explained Marianne's extra sexy dressing for him that day. As far as I found out she had not been wearing anything extra sexy for her cancelled December date. One cancelled date didn't count in her favor. Cheating twelve times was twelve times more than a sane husband could ever accept.
All my love for Marianne was gone with the wind.
The next morning I decided to give that "back up" Lena a lesson, why I sent a postcard with a picture of the best hotel in town to her husband at his job with the text, "Your wife is cheating you in this building" Though it was lie, such message must cause some problems in their marriage.
The Christmas went on without any arguments or any sex between Marianne and me; but I could see that she wasn't very happy because I had bought her much cheaper gifts than usual.
Then at last it was time for the New Year party hosted by Marianne and me. We did a big job of fixing our house and stored some furniture in the garage to get more space for the dance. I had even built a temporary bar for that event, well supplied with imported booze from Germany.
I kept the bar when our guests arrived and welcomed them with a fancy drink, different for ladies and men. Rebecka and Oliver came and got their drinks just as all others but with a Slight difference for Oliver whose drink contained something extra that had caused me Much problem to obtain.
To my great pleasure everything fit with my plans. Just as expected, Oliver had had taken a few drinks before coming to the party and didn't say "no thanks" to anything during the meal and the combination of the spiked drink and all other booze got him to feel a little tired.
It was Marianne who suggested he should take a short rest in our spare bedroom and even Rebecca thought it was a good idea. Rebecca and I assisted him in there and laid him on the bed.
As soon as I got a chance to sneak into the spare bedroom I found Oliver sleeping on the bed. Though not liking beer very much I had drank several of them and filled my bladder to its limits. Therefore it felt as a real relief when I emptied it during a well-aimed pee on the sleeping Oliver from his belt and down, so it looked like it was done by him.
Nobody had seen me either going into the spare room or coming out from there.
After a while I asked Rebecca how Oliver was feeling and when she said that she hadn't been checking on him, we went together in to the spare room.
The pee stink hit us immediately after opening the door and Rebecca began screaming in despair. I rushed back to the guests and shouted loudly to Marianne, "That damn Oliver have pissed in his pants and on the bed."
All our guests heard me and many of them went looking to see what Oliver had done. One thing was sure, that scandal would follow Oliver for a long time in the future.
At first Marianne demanded I take care of Oliver and assist him to his home but my simple reply, "Never in the hell will I touch that creep" calmed her down. One of my quests was sober and had mercy with him and drove Oliver, now dressed in an old blanket and assisted by Rebecka and Marianne to his house.
We others continued our party and had got a new laughing stock to have fun of and there was a lot of laughter because Oliver wasn't very popular among us men.
To everybody's great surprise, Rebecca returned back to the party together with Marianne.
The party went on and when saluting the New Year with champagne all couples, except Marianne and me, kissed each other. She felt humiliated and asked me "Why didn't you kiss me?"
"Why should I?"
"We are married, aren't we?"
"That's no reason to kiss you?"
The others began to be interested and listened to our argument.
Marianne replied, "If you love me, you ought to kiss me as the first thing you did for the New Year."
She got a shock and went ashen gray when I replied, "We have some more important matters to fix."
Marianne rushed to the kitchen to fix a nightcap and those guests who had heard us stared at me as they were expecting an explanation. I didn't give them any.
Instead of saying anything I went away to Lena and took her to silent corner where I asked her, "Marianne and you skipped your monthly shopping evening in December, why?"
She gave me a strange look and said, "Don't ask me, ask Marianne. She rang me and cancelled it."
I replied, "That's right, but could you please tell me if Marianne and you have ever been shopping at all during those evenings because according to the credit cards, there were no purchases done at these days. All her shopping is done one or a few days before those evenings. Why?"
Lena got furious and shouted, "Why are you asking me? Why don't you ask your own wife if her shopping habits are so important for you to know?"
"Marianne always told me that the two of you did the shopping together and obviously you don't know anything about any shopping. I think both Marianne and you have something to explain."
Now Lena's husband had joined us and asked her, "What the hell have you done during those faked shopping's? Fucked some asshole at the GRAND HOTEL?"
No doubt that my hotel postcard to him had created some arguing in that family because she began to cry and sobbed, "I never went anywhere with Marianne, only acted as some kind of alibi for her. What she did is her business, not mine."
Lena's husband had taken several drinks during the evening why he wasn't in mood to accept any lies or excuses from his wife. He stared at her and said, "It's high time that you begin to tell me the damn truth. What the hell did Marianne and you do at these evenings out?"
She understood that the game would be over and replied, "Marianne met her lover and I usually did some shopping."
Lena's husband was a clever guy because he knew if he forced his wife to tell about Marianne's affair to me, Marianne would pay back by telling Lena's affair, if she had any, to her husband. Therefore he asked again, "Who is the man in that affair?"
She replied sobbing, "I don't know."
Now the husband got angry and shouted, "Don't dare to lie. Who?"
Lena gave up and said, "Oliver Ericsson."
I pretended to be surprised and shouted, "That damn bed-wetter, what a hell of a bad taste."
Lena didn't want to see Marianne or Rebecca so she and her husband left the party and I got busy at my bar and it was easy for Marianne to avoid me until the nightcap was served. We drank it together without any unnecessary talking.
When the last quest had left our party it was the time for "the moment of truth" both of us have been waiting for. It was Marianne who began by asking, "You didn't want to kiss me. May I ask you why not and since when?"
"You ought to known for a long time, at least during the last year, that a day of reckoning would come sooner or later. It's my painful duty to say that tonight Lena told me the truth about what I have suspected since I had my damn flu and saw how sexy you dressed for the date with your lover."
Marianne got ashen gray and asked, "I didn't notice that Lena was drunk enough to tell you any day dreams, what did she tell you?"
"I'm sure that she told me the damn truth. Your monthly shopping was a fake to give you a cover to see your lover at a Q8 cabin."
Now Marianne was worried but not ready to give up yet, why she asked, "Could you please tell me the name of this non existing ghost lover?"
"Yes I can. It was the most disgusting thing to find out. Lena told me that your lover is the bed -wetting asshole Oliver Ericsson and Lena's confession confirms what I have suspected."
Marianne screamed, "That damn cheating whore told you. Did she told you about her own lovers, did she mentioned Ralf Norrman, the old hockey player?"
Then she rushed to the bedroom. I went after her to the bedroom and shouted, "Cheating whore, get out from this room. From now you'll sleep in the spare room."
She objected, "The bed is wet in there."
I shouted, "Is it my fault that your lover is a bed-wetter. Your problem, not mine."
Marianne refused to leave but I pushed her out from the bedroom set the alarm clock to eight and went to the bed.
Though my head was aching as hell, I forced myself to get up from the bed and get some strong coffee in the kitchen. That damn Oliver had destroyed my once in a life time happy marriage and had to get his final punishment. I rang their landline phone and to my luck it was Rebecca who took the call. I told her that after she had left the party Marianne's friend Lena had told me that Marianne and her husband had an at least yearlong affair and now even Marianne had confessed it to me.
Then I rang Lena's husband and told him that Marianne got furious when I confronted her with what Lena told about her affair with Oliver and began shouting about Lena's affair with an ex hockey-player by name Ralf Norrman.
Of course it was a bit unfair to do that to Lena but she had played an active part in destroying my own marriage.
Later on it came to my knowledge after Lena confessed her cheating to her husband, he had taken immediate action against Ralf Norrman by giving him a severe beating in his own home witnessed by his wife and children.
When Marianne came to the kitchen she understood that her marriage probably and even her affair with Oliver was history. I asked her, "Did you really have such poor sex at home that it was necessary for you to fuck extra on the side? Do you love that damn creep Oliver Ericsson so much that fucking him once a month was worth more to you than your marriage?"
Marianne sobbed, "I don't love him, it was only some extra bonus sex that spiced up my love for you. You are my real love and will always be my real love, not he. With him it was only sex."
"If Rebecca is clever enough to dump that cheating asshole, you have won your bonus."
"I'm sorry for my silly mistake and beg you to forgive me. I have never stopped loving you. You are, only you are my great love. He was only some kind of excitement, not any real love. Please forgive me and let us go on with our family and children, please."
I was curious and asked, "How long has this so called bonus fucking gone on?"
"I met him only a three times and we had no sex during our first date why we had only two sex dates because you cancelled our December date."
What a lying bitch. I told her, "You swallowed my bait and skipped your so called shopping when I rang you about Oliver because you had already done the shopping in advance several days ago. You could probably saved our marriage if you even had skipped your November date when your new sexy lingerie got me suspecting the worst. Asking you for a Brandy was a simple trap. I had presumed that you and asshole celebrated some kind of anniversary which was more important for you than saving our marriage. I have checked your credit card bills about all Lena's and your monthly shopping during a whole year. The only purchase during those monthly shopping evenings is gas at the Q8 gas station out of the town. That means that your two fucking times is a damn lie, isn't it?"
I continued, "I'm 100 percent sure that you fucked him at least twelve times from November to November. Already one cheating is one too much why I don't care about the exact number, but it would be interesting to know when, how and why your cheating began?"
Marianne remained silent and began crying before she run to the spare bedroom.
She had confessed her cheating without any need for me to tell her about the recording of her phone calls or the pictures Oliver sent her. Better for me she thought that I should get my main information from Lena at our party.
Both Rebecca and Lena rang Marianne during the New Year day and it wasn't difficult to guess that those phone calls ended the long time friendship between Marianne and two of her very best friends.
Though it was I who made my cuckolding by a "bed-wetting" asshole known for public, it gave me only one choice avoid to be a laughing stock and I didn't hesitated a second for filing for divorce at the first working day the court was open at the New Year. Marianne never told me the real reason for her cheating or how and when it began.
ONE YEAR LATER
The year after Marianne's and my New Year party was a real crap year for me. Though Marianne made several attempts to save our marriage, our divorce was final in July. She refused to answer all my questions about her affair with Oliver, and most of it will remain as an unsolved mystery for me.
To everybody's surprise Marianne and Oliver's cheating resulted in some kind of divorce epidemic because their affair caused four divorces: Marianne and me, Rebecca and Oliver, Lena and her husband and Ralf Norrman and his trophy wife.
Rebecca somehow got Oliver out from their house didn't waste much time before she began dating her boss and married him in August. Rumors said that Oliver suspected that something had happened already a long time before they filed for divorce and claimed that as a reason for his affair with Marianne but he never found any evidence about that.
When Marianne found out that it was out of question to cancel our divorce, she accepted that. I, with some assistance from relatives and friends, bought her out from our house. She bought an apartment with her money and Oliver and she moved in together, but it didn't last much more than a month before the lovebirds split up. Oliver left her after a big quarrel and the bed-wetter reputation even caused him to leave the town.
Marianne and I have shared custody for our children, who still lives in my house but spent some time at her place.
They are still saying that mom is not dating any man. But why should I care? Neither did I care or know what happened to Lena, her husband, her lover Ralf and his wife.
I didn't date anybody. Not until Christmas. To my great relief I found out there were enough single women who didn't say "no thanks" to a night with a guy like me, the few times my need for sex brought me to single bars. The truth is that I missed Marianne as hell but I'm too humiliated about her cheating to be able take her back.
It was one of my best friends who persuaded me to forget all crap at home and spend the Christmas and New Year in Thailand together with his cousin who had an extra Charter tour ticket for sale after splitting up with his girlfriend. As Marianne and I had already agreed that our kids would spend the holidays with her this year, I had nothing to keep me at home and bought his extra ticket. The cousin was a jolly fellow and to our great luck on our second morning at the hotel, two divorced Belgian sisters shared the breakfast table with us. That was the best thing that had happened to me during the whole year because we spent all the remaining time in Thailand together with those two Belgian ladies. Though my date Monique was twelve years older than I, she was a good-looking woman with a nice slim body. To my great pleasure she even was the best cocksucker I ever met in my whole life with an ability to get me stone hard several times a night for her tight pussy.
Back home I was a really satisfied man who from now on missed the great sex with Monique much more than I ever missed my sex with Marianne. My problem was that I could never get a good job at the French speaking part of Belgium where Monique had her accountant business and she couldn't do anything like that in my country. The only thing I could do was plan and look forward to some weekend trips to her in Belgium.
But those trips to Monique will probably be cancelled forever because when I was back from Thailand a new neighbor had moved into the house next to mine. She is newly divorced very handsome female lawyer few years younger than me and with a daughter by name Johanna, the same age as my own daughter. The girls became friends surprisingly fast so for practical reasons, I invited in the girl's mother Madeleine for coffee.
She was an easygoing pretty woman and I offered to help her with all kind of practical chores in her house that resulted in pleasant coffee breaks after each job. I can't deny about been thinking a lot about her but decided to take it very carefully and only make small steps forward to find out if she cares about me or only regards me as some kind of janitor. Rather soon it became obvious that she invented some of her problems just for the coffee with me.
Madeleine must been a real high-class wife for her ex and would hardly be alone for long after her divorce. The truth is that shy guys seldom get beautiful girls laid why I at a Friday rang her at the job and asked her out for dinner at the evening but she said a polite "No thanks today" but added "We can do that some other time later" and suggested us to share a take away dinner from a new Greek restaurant at her house together with our children if I would understand that she wasn't in any mood for a real date. I accepted.
However, the dinner went fine, almost as a real family dinner and must been a quantum leap forward for me to get a closer relation with my pretty neighbor.
After the dinner when our teenagers had left us, Madeleine and I opened a bottle of wine, sat down in a sofa and talked about our divorces and hopes for the future. Madeleine had dumped her ex after the second time he hit her because she had seen too much crap caused by hitting men at her work. She stared me right in my eyes and asked me if I had ever hit my ex. I told her the truth about never hitting any woman in my whole life, not even Marianne after her cheating.
However, I told Madeleine that my ex paid a high price for her cheating what caused four divorces and got her losing her home, husband, lover, two of her very best friends and created her a reputation as a slut that caused problems with pussy-hounds trying to get a date with her.
Then Madeleine asked about my holiday trip to Thailand and if I had done anything shameful there what ought to been undone. Of course I knew what she meant but pretended not to understand and asked, "Sorry but I didn't catch your question. What should that been?"
Obviously I meant something for her because she said, "Don't play stupid. I want to know the truth about a man who asked me for a dinner date why it is important for me to know if you paid for sex with prostitutes during that Thailand trip?"
"No I didn't. But I don't deny my dating with a divorced Belgian lady there. She had dumped her ex for cheating and she was single. Please remember that happened when I was single without dating anybody here at home."
Madeleine asked again, "Do you have any plans to see that Belgian lady again."
I told her the truth, "Yes, we talked about that, but only if both of us are still out of any relation."
She gave me a bright smile and asked, "Are you dating somebody?"
I replied with my best smile, "I don't know for sure though I'm doing my best to get a lovely lady interested of a date with me and as long as I have some hope about gaining that, I'm not going anywhere to see anybody else."
"Why is that date with me so important for you? You can hardly expect any 'glory night' after only one date."
"Because it can either be the beginning of a happy dream or be the end of that dream."
Now she was very serious when she said, "I would bet some money on the 'beginning' but it will be some way to go there."
After a short silence she continued, "Though my divorce is a terrible experience for the time being, even I have a dream of sharing my life and love with a man who loves me. He must be honest and faithful to me and be accepted by Johanna and I will always be honest and faithful to him. To my surprise all kind of men seems to think that a divorced woman's only feeling is a starving for sex why I've already got many invitations about dating, even several from married men. So far I've said 'no thanks' to everybody asking for dates except two of you.
The first was a super fiasco and you Mic are the second that gained my interest. But even you and I must know each other much better before we can decide anything about the future. However, I can't deny that one of your great advantages is that Johanna likes you and I like Julia and Melvin very much. Shall we agree to be 'honest and faithful' to each other at this level for the beginning and do our best so the five of us will find our ways to know each other better before making any promises about sharing more of the future?"
I agreed without any objections. Missing a great sex weekend in Belgium was a cheap price to pay for a fair chance to get a serious relation with Madeleine even if sex with her had to wait for a while until she knew me better and sex with her could hardly be expected to be as great as with Monique. I knew several other people who had succeeded to make one happy family from remains of two split up families, why even Madeleine and me ought to fix it if both of us really wanted to do that.