Chicken Race

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual, Cheating, Slut Wife, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Though the husband won the chickenrace, he fears loosing his wife. This story from 2008 is still as actual as ever.

Many thanks to Techsan for editing this story

It was a busy Saturday at the supermarket in our small Scandinavian town. Short of parking spaces at the supermarket as usual when my wife and I went there to shop. I did as usual; instead of driving around and searching, I stopped my Toyota Rav4 in a strategic place and when a space became empty, I usually got it even when I had to win a "chicken race" to get it.

Of course, people didn't like to lose a "chicken race" but nobody had ever done anything other than wave a fist in the air when they went searching elsewhere. However, there must always be the first time and that very day was the first time the loser got really angry, stopped his small Fiat Panda and rushed toward me and my wife when we left our car and shouted with a loud voice, "What the hell do you think you are? I can tell you are a damned cuckold who thinks he can alleviate his shame by assaulting people with your fucking car."

Then he went back to his car and left. I didn't know him, but obviously he knew my pretty wife Sarah or me, why I asked her, "Who was that man?

I had noted that she had a visible look of discomfort on her face while that man had shouted at me, but now she replied, "How should I know?"

"Obviously he knew at least one of us."

"I'm not sure about that. Such insults are common today."

Probably it was a common expression in the school where she worked as a teacher, but not in my opinion because nobody had ever accused me of being a cuckold before. But how the man had shouted it and the feared expression in Sarah's face got me thinking of the old saying "Where there's smoke there's fire". I knew that I had a serious problem, but couldn't do anything there for the time being so I left that matter and we went into the supermarket to shop.

My wife Sarah is a 43 year old schoolteacher and I am Robin Norrman, a 46 year old owner of a small construction company. We have two children; our son Elliot is 20 years old and student at the university in our county capital. Our daughter Madeleine, who is 18 years old, is in Minnesota as an exchange student for the time being. Sarah and I met at a party, fell in love and, as she wanted to be married before we had children, we did it one year after we met. Our marriage, as for most people, has its ups and downs but never any serious problems.

In my construction company I have three male employees and a female accountant takes care of some administration matters part time a few hours a week in her own home. My small company has a contract with a prefabricated wooden house factory and we are usually booked up for a long time in advance and making good money.

This Saturday evening we were invited to her mother's birthday dinner and none of us cared to make any further comments about the incident earlier in the day at the supermarket.

I knew that Sarah would understand that there would be some expectation from me to investigate that cuckold matter. If she was guilty and wanted to fight for her marriage, she would search for and destroy every possible clue she might have missed earlier. If her cheating had happened a long time ago and already was history or she decided to stop it immediately, my chances of getting any evidence would be some kind of "mission impossible". But if she was still cheating and intended go on with that, I was sure to find it out sooner or later.

On Sunday Sarah had obviously been thinking about the shouting man at the supermarket and asked me, "Did you believe what that man shouted at the supermarket and do you really think that I am cheating on you?"

"No, I don't believe anything at all but I want to be sure that we are playing fair."

"So, you don't trust me, do you?"

"I can't see any reason for you to cheat on me. If you get fed up with me and prefer to find somebody better, just tell me 'I want a divorce' and you are a free woman. No problems getting rid of me if you are playing with open cards. But I will be mad as hell if I ever find that you are fucking some asshole behind my back while we are married."

"I love you, only you, and don't see any reason to think about any divorce. But can't you see how much you have overreacted because some angry lunatic insulted you?"

"I really hope that he was wrong because I will never be a man to forgive a cheating wife."

Later that Sunday I went to a soccer match with three friends and when we were sitting at a pub for a beer after the match, I told my friends what the angry fellow had shouted. I told them that if it was as usual that the cheated husband was the last one in town to know, they could feel free to tell me if they knew anything about Sarah.

None of them had anything to say and everybody took it as a good joke. When one of them promised to ask his wife, the other two promised to do the same thing.

The next day I bought three voice operated very small electronic recorders, and then hid one in Sarah's car, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. If the lover was somebody outside her school, she might call him from her car. The neighbor's wife used to come in to Sarah now and then for some gossip, therefore the two recorders in the house.

Cuckold or not, but from now on I was at least a hunting cuckold.

Sarah and I had a shared home economy and because her full time job at the school meant much shorter days than my job, she took care of paying all our bills and such things in our family so I seldom cared to look in her ring binders of receipts. I waited until her bowling evening and began a careful investigation as soon as she had left the house.

The line-connected phone was in my name, so I had already checked outgoing calls at my personal page at the Telecom site and had not found anything of interest. But our credit card bills made me suspicious. The gasoline company bills and all my and the children's card bills were there in good order but the last two months' bank card bills were missing from Sarah's and my shared account.

She used to print out a copy of the paying order when she paid the bills via the net and I could see that they were paid as usual. Without any doubt, that was a clue indicating that something was wrong.

Instead of asking Sarah about that matter, I sent an e-mail to the card company and requested copies of the missing bills and prayed to the good Lord that there would be some totally innocent explanation in the bills. To my great luck my present job was only seven kilometers from home, so I could make a quick trip during my lunch breaks to check our mailbox before Sarah came home from the school because who knows what Sarah would do if she found my copies and got suspicious. After all, if she were guilty, she would fight for her marriage.

The next clue came from the recorder in Sarah's car. She used to share her car to bowling with one of her friends living rather close to us. On their way home the other woman had asked her, "How about Robin? Is he still accusing you?"

"Not really, but I'm sure he has a serious doubt because he offered me a divorce on fair terms instead of cheating."

"Do you think about it?"

"Of course not. It is not on that level. I love my Robin and have no intentions about dumping him. What would the children think about me if I divorced their father?"

"Don't do anything stupid. By the way did you see the nice gold chain Anne's got from her new lover boy?"

Then they began their gossip about some Anne, uninteresting for me.

I listened several times to their talk and though no cheating was mentioned, I had the feeling that Sarah would have talked quite differently if she had been innocent. But she knew that the friend knew something about her and therefore didn't want to tell her any more information to be known around town. Not much for a clue but "many drops will form a river".

Next Saturday afternoon there was a top match between two of the best teams in the country on the big screen TV at the pub and as my friends and I had staked some money on the football (soccer) pool, we even had something of our own interest to watch.

Two of my friends had nothing to tell me but one said that his wife had asked a friend of hers who usually knew about everything in our town and she had said that there had been some vague rumors about Sarah Norrman at her school but nothing was known about the man. Further one step forward. Though there still wasn't any real evidence, the several circumstantial items pointing in the same direction began to convince me that the shouting angry man at the parking lot had been right.

The relationship between Sarah and me was polite but cool. Neither of us wanted any arguing for the time being and we had skipped the usual hugging and kissing and even sex. It felt like waiting for a storm after getting a storm warning.

Nothing of interest collected from the voice recorders in the house. Both the neighbor's wife and one of Sarah's best friends had visited her but there had been only the usual woman talk without any comments about her affair.

Then I got the copies of the missing bills and my mission took a quantum leap forward. On the oldest bill was a purchase from the alcohol store in the town next to ours. One thing was for sure - I was in no way involved in or told about that purchase because I had connections who brought me everything the family needed from abroad for much smaller prices compared to the highly taxed stuff at the state owned monopoly stores. I was surprised by the amount. If it been one bottle as a gift to her lover boy, he had gotten really good stuff.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Consensual / Cheating / Slut Wife /