Denise and Rodney

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Slow, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: An oversexed wife can't live without the boyfriends. Hubby can't live with a wife who spreads it so easily and widely.

"Rod, at first I had no intention of you ever being in the know about all of this. But—frankly—hiding it from you has gotten to be way too much for me," she said.

"Huh? Hiding what, Denise?" I said. I had a bad feeling.

"Well, to put it crassly, I'm a slut, Rodney Harris. I've been one for a long time. I have had many men, and I intend to keep on having many men. Wait please, let me finish, please." I'd started to get up. "That said...

"Rodney, you are the only man in my life for whom I have the slightest emotional attachment. Put another way, I love you, Rodney, and I hope you can deal with this information and be my lifelong love and husband and friend. But—I can't stop." She looked down and waited for me to respond.

"Huh? What? Slut? Me—deal with..." I was near speechless. My stomach was churning and I felt my eyes begin to water. I slowly rose and, unsteadily, begin to move out of the dinette and away from the worst moment of my entire life. I had no idea where I was going. I ended up in front of the front room picture window. I stood there, hands at my sides, my mind a complete blank.

I sensed her behind me. "I know how much I've hurt you just now, my husband. Especially after all of this time. I waited until Jill and Jimmy were out of the house and in college. I wanted to minimize the hurt. But now, looking at it—maybe the truth is that there is no way to minimize it," she said.

"No, no there isn't," I whispered, more to myself than to her. "No, there isn't."

"I understand," she said. "Rod, I don't have a business dinner tonight, as I told you yesterday. I have a date, and I am going. If—if—if you are still here when I return, I know we will be all right. If not, well, then not I guess." I said nothing. Would I be there when she returned? The entire unadorned truth was I didn't know.


I watched as she readied herself for her date. It was torture. I wondered if she were taking care to make me realize how things would be if I did decide to stay. Our entire married life, nineteen years—lost.

I noticed the clock. It was ten minutes to eight. She was standing beautiful and sensual in the hallway. She looked at me. She had a kind of sad sympathy etched on her features. "I hope you'll be here when I return," she said. There was a certain earnestness in her voice. I said nothing, did nothing, I just watched as she turned and walked out, got in her car, and drove off.

Our conversation earlier on when she'd made her confession, if that's what it was; no, it was an ultimatum; had finally come home to roost in my befuddled brain. That had been at around two in the afternoon. I'd had time to think since then. And think I had.

Divorce? Was it a foregone conclusion? Maybe, maybe not, I wanted a measure of revenge regardless. Nothing too wild-ass; I wasn't going to go to jail for shooting anybody, but I had a plan to at least ruin her night.


I'd gotten lucky, and Denise had gotten careless. Well, why shouldn't she have; she knew me; she knew I wasn't the violent sort. I was a wimp in her eyes, a pussywhipped wimp, and she knew it. Well, anyway it had been true until two o'clock that afternoon.

Like I said, I'd gotten lucky, I'd overheard her phone call to her lover, soon after she'd destroyed me: some guy named Maxwell. It was clear that she was all kinds of sympathetic with my state of mind, but it was also clear that she had no intention of denying my rival his much needed pussy. My eyes had narrowed at that.

They were meeting for dinner at the starlight lodge and had rented a room there: room 314. I'd smiled at that, no, sneered. It's where we had spent our first night together years before, Denise and I. Not the same room, but the same floor. Like the late great Yogi once said, "It was déjà vu all over again."

The kids were still in town and dorming it up at the university twenty-five miles away. I'd called them. Both were twenty-one: yeah, yeah, they were already born when Denise and I married. We'd been living together and hadn't had the money or the balls to have the kind of wedding she wanted while she was pregnant, so we'd waited. Hey, other people have done it.

As I waited for my company in The Hinge, my favorite bar, I thought back to our marriage and the days that followed. We'd been true soulmates, or so I'd thought; I wondered now.

I saw the dynamic duo enter and head for my table; the place was pretty much empty.

"Hi daddy," said Jill.

"Hi dad," said Jimmy.

"Back atcha, both of you," I said. "You guys look good. School agrees with you." I was so proud of the two of them: tall good looking kids. Did I say I was a proud daddy.

"Daaddeee," said Jill, "I've seen that look before. You're up to something." Jimmy nodded agreement.

"Nothing too earth shattering kids, just a surprise for your mother. Are you up for it?' I said.

The yeah-yeahs were enthusiastic. I hated doing what I was about to do, but this one was for me. I was not going to end up the bad guy in this, and that was a dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cincheroonie. I told them that their mother and I were to meet up at the lodge where we had conceived them many years ago and have a fun weekend. I told them that I wanted them to be a part of it, but that their mother was in the dark about my plans. They yea-ed the heck out of the idea; the yeas would soon be turning to oh-my-gods if things worked out the way I figured they would.

It just occurred to me. I haven't described myself, or my adulterous whore of a wife, or our situation. Denise is cute, around five-five and one-twenty-five: brown hair, brown eyes. Me? I'm right at six-one and two-twenty. My brown hair is thinning quite a bit now; well, Whaddya gonna do. Oh, and I bench 315 for reps.

We both work, I'm an electrician, Gemini Electric Inc.; she's a beautician, Curls R Us. I graduated college with a B.A. in English of all things, and promptly went to work as an electrician's apprentice: union scale paid better than teaching elementary school. Denise got her certificate from beauty school and was kind of an expert at coloring hair—mostly of old ladies, so she says. She does pretty good at it moneywise too.

I took my car to the Starlight; the twins followed in theirs. I knew the old hostel only too well. Denise and I had used it for the odd weekend more than once since that first time years before. It held a kind of nostalgic sentimentality for me, and I'd thought for her as well, but I guess not in her case if she was sharing it with one of her studs.

Parking kind of back from the entrance we all exited and walked briskly inside. I waved a smile at the desk clerk, and led the troops to the elevator where I punched in for the third floor. It was almost 9:30. I was sure that the two lovers were well into it by now; that was key to my plans.

Room 314, and in fact all of the rooms at the Starlight were small. Large beds, small bathrooms and the mandatory little writing table; that was it. Once we were inside, the lovers would have no place to hide.

I didn't have a regular key, but the kids thought I did. Actually, I kinda did: I had a size-12 key. I was about to use it. I shushed the kids. They stood aside so I could open the door. They were geared to scream surprise.

I smiled, looked at my children, and drove my work boot through the door like it was made of Styrofoam. The kids were stunned. Inside the room Maxwell was ramming his cock into my very naked wife's butt hole. The kids stared.

The faces of the two fuckers were momentarily frozen in time as we visitors took in the scene.

"Momma!" screamed Jill.

"Mother!" Squeaked a completely at a loss Jimmy.

She saw me and fear and anger at once creased her features.

"Rod, you bastard!" she screamed. "My—our—children!"

"Yes, slut, our babies. Now there will be no doubt who the bad guy is in this, will there," I said. To her credit my whore of a wife began to sob.

"Sorry for messing up your evening," I said. "Uh—no—I take that back. I'm not sorry." I started laughing at the two naked adulterers on the bed. Good 'ole Maxwell was already springing into action trying to get some clothes on. Denise for her part had reached for the wadded up sheet and was trying to cover her nakedness.

Jimmy, being almost as big as me was going after the man. The scuffle was short; Maxwell was prostrate and bleeding profusely from the nose and mouth.

"Jimmy, please, no more," his mother said. "Please!" Jimmy was snorting and sneering at his own mother. The look I got was indecipherable.

"You dating pussies now, mom?" was his verbal response to her. She was crying and unable to speak.

Jill moved slowly across the room to her, and took her in her arms. Well hell, I felt kinda sorry for the woman too.

"You did bad, mom," she said, rocking her back and forth.

"Dad, you and Jimmy go. I'll stay here with mom for a little bit and see she gets home," said Jill.

She saw me look at the lover who was still writhing in pain from Jimmy's attack. "It's okay, dad. He won't be getting anymore pussy or causing us any problems," she said.

I grabbed Jimmy and we left. I stopped at the desk downstairs and was met by a couple of uniforms. Evidently we'd been noticed by some of the other guests breaking down the door. I'd been prepared for this. I handed Jimmy my wallet.

"Bail me out in the morning, okay?" I said. He nodded.


Both Jimmy and Jill were waiting for me after I was released. The man he cleaned up the floor with hadn't pressed charges against Jimmy. I wondered if that were the result of Denise's intercession; I was betting it was.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Heterosexual / Cheating / Slut Wife / Slow /