I guess some background would be in order. I was a virgin when I met Sandra, and so was she. We dated through our junior and senior years of high school, though she would tell friends things 'weren't serious' until college. I always wondered about that, since after my 'always ready' attitude she'd given in and we had sex the 1st time shortly before graduation. Honestly I don't remember much about it ... I was nervous, she was scared, neither of us knew what we were doing. I got the condom on, got inside of her, rutted against her, trying to make sure she was enjoying it, too. I won't pretend it lasted long ... or that she got off. Then again, I was the one with the pulled groin muscle when it was all said and done.
and if she didn't climax, it didn't stop her from wanting to have more sex ... just not intercourse. Not ideal from my point of view, but it was still sex, and I knew I loved her. So I settled for oral sex, and nobody I know says 'no' to a blow job. I put in 2 years at college before I ran out of money. The best scholarships had come from a university about an hour's drive from our hometown, so I lived in the dorms, and came home every Friday. We spent our weekends together, having fun in the day and evening, then enjoying some sex each night.
We married at 20, 'too early' according to some, but I'll say that's total bullshit ... If you love someone, and are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to nurture a relationship, it shouldn't matter if you're 18 or 80. and like I said, I loved her. I admit, I expected married life would be like our weekends had been, but every day. Turned out, twice a week was enough for Sandy ... Oh, for the first month it was every night, and for the first year it was 3 or 4 times a week, but anything more than twice a week was only at my instigation.
We'd agreed kids would wait a few years ... time to build a nest egg and just enjoy being together. and I'll admit it, I loved sex ... Unlike the jocks who'd been getting it from day 1 of high school or before, I was learning on the job, so to speak. A buddy had shown the guys a porno the first week I was in the dorm, and without really thinking about it, I brought it home that weekend. We hadn't watched 5 minutes before she was jumping on me, and the oral action that night had been particularly passionate. So I periodically brought a tape home even after we were married; it'd never failed to spark Sandy's arousal.
I don't think I'm being modest when I say I'm not at all bad when it comes to offering oral pleasure ... I'm no John Holmes ... I'm essentially an average guy in the size department, but the clit isn't buried between a woman's legs, and my rule is that the woman should have gotten off before I even start to think about my own pleasure ... It seemed reasonable, since I was the one more obviously interested in having sex.
Anyway, I got a job where I hoped to stay on when I got my degree and started taking night courses so we wouldn't have a huge debt when I was done. It meant a lot less time than in the summer after we'd married, when I wasn't in class, but we'd talked about it ... This was that 'delayed gratification' my parents talked about.
Classes in that 3rd year were harder, and there was more information over a shorter period of time, which meant a lot more studying. and we didn't have the internet that's ubiquitous now, so I spent a lot of time in the libarary; the last thing I wanted was to screw up a class and have to be in school even longer. The sex dropped off, and I wasn't pleased about it, but I also wasn't going to wake Sandy just to insist on sex, or take advantage of her while she was sleeping. and she never complained she wasn't getting enough, so I had not considered a problem might have developed.
I guess I should've been suspicious when I did find her awake at night and my suggestion we 'fool around' was rebuffed, but she was working, too, and managed the apartment when she wasn't working. Besides, she assured me the night I remember it happening that we'd 'steal a quickie' the next morning. Except the next morning when I sat up, she was already in the shower. I can only guess she was making sure there was no 'evidence' left behind, since the night before I had gotten home earlier than usual, and I suspect had interrupted or at least had shortened her evening's activities.
I did not stick around long enough to ask her about it, but I suspect Mark was the first guy to get into my wife's pants. He was the one always talking about 'getting wives to cheat' when he was with us. Several of us were married, by then, but we figured he was mostly just exaggerating, and who does not trust their spouse. In any case, his was the first name I heard associated with my wife 'stepping out, ' but I did not really believe the suggestion. I laughed about it talking to my brother, which is probably how he realized he had an opportunity. And Roger ... well, he was at some of the poker games. He had always been insecure about his ... skills, shall we say, and compensated for that by putting everyone else down and trying to prove himself a better man.
I only got suspicious when I found several pieces of her negligee that had been soiled and were buried in the laundry, but that I had not had the pleasure of despoiling in the week before. I sat with the handful of obviously used lingerie, alternating between anger and disbelief and humiliation. I had meant to help out with the chores, and instead had nearly indisputable proof I was living a lie. I should have left her then and there, but I stupidly told myself I 'had to be sure.' I was more vigilant after that, and it wasn't a week before I overheard enough of the damn conversation with Christie that I was sure something was going on.
The next Monday I collected all of week's assignments Monday night—the instructors knew I was working hard and turning in good work, and did not think twice about my missing a few days. I left work, heading toward the school, not really thinking why I went to that extent, but doubled back, leaving the car at a park near the apartment complex, and then climbed onto the deck of our apartment to watch and wait.
By the time I was struggling back down the deck support on Tuesday night to retrieve the car, I was cursing myself for a fool; Sandra had puttered around the house, paying the odd bill, talking on the phone, and watching TV. But I returned on Wednesday. I had about convinced myself I was overthinking what I had found when the front door opened and Chet sauntered in, a shit eating grin on his face.
Sandra was flustered and obviously did not want to have sex, but she did not refuse him, either, even going into the bedroom and returning in another of the bits of lingerie I had bought for her, and prancing and posing for my big brother while he drank one of my beers before leading her into the bedroom. I could hear the occasional grunt or moan, but I couldn't see a thing—not that I wanted to. I almost burst into the room then and there, but instead sat numbly, trying to understand how it could have happened.
He was gone about the time my classes were over, and I expected that was the end of it. Instead, as she was still moving about the room in a robe, the lingerie outlined beneath the thin fabric, there was a knock on the door. When she answered, Mark pushed into the room, sweeping her up and laughing that he was glad to see she was 'ready for him.' And whereas Chet had been interested in a show, Mark was only interested in getting his piece. He bent my usually demure wife over the back of our couch, fucking into her from behind—no foreplay or games. He also wasn't interested in 'cuddling' when he was done, pulling out, zipping up, and spanking my wife's ass as he thanked her and assured her he would be back the next night. The way he acted, I found myself imagining he had a list, and had just checked Sandy off before heading to the next marriage he was going to sully.
Of course, I was back on my perch on the deck the next day. I still don't know why I did it ... I didn't need more evidence to know my marriage was through. Mark was by almost before I was in place, and spent almost an hour the 2nd night, feeding Sandy a load—something she was reluctant to do with me to say the least—before taking her from behind, this time in the small kitchen I could see part of. I figured Chet wasn't putting in an appearance that night, and wondered if it meant they had some schedule worked out. When Roger knocked on the door less than 20 minutes after Mark had gone, though ... I was moments from breaking into my own house to beat the shit out of him, when I realized he was going to be enjoying sloppy seconds. and given Mark's likely variety of partners, I figured Roger had a fair chance of taking something home with him.
The one thing I knew: I wasn't going to be between her legs again. I waited until Roger left and went in almost before he was to his car. Sandy heard the door and came out of our bedroom, still naked,
"Did you forget..." and stopped in shock and quickly embarrassment and a little fear when she saw me. The fear was understandable ... I was shaking I was so angry. "Oh God, Tanner!" she looked at herself, naked and dripping other men's jism, asking after someone other than me while starkers... "Tanner, you weren't supposed to find out ... Not like this..." as if ever finding out in anyway could be tolerable,
"I guess it's just me ... You're clearly more interested in sex then you let on." She blushed.
"That's not fair!" She stamped a foot, "You're never home ... I need attention." She wouldn't meet my eyes, "You've got to believe me, I love you, I never meant to hurt you..." and less than an hour later, I was gone and our marriage was done.
.... There is more of this story ...