Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Cheating, BDSM,
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Dalton is devastated by his wife's infidelity and seeks revenge. Now, can he rebuild his life; will he ever find true happiness again?
After a few years of marriage it's the little things that get to you; the subtle, little nuances that after a while start you to wondering. 'Why did she say that;'... 'Wow, that wasn't the response I expected;'... 'There's that look again;' and then there's always the kicker, 'Please, not tonight honey, I'm too tired.' Put them all together and you start to suspect something is amiss in your happy little home.
Of course no one really wants to admit to discourse in their family life, so to counterbalance the doubt and suspicion, you remind yourself that trust is the cornerstone of any marriage; and if that doesn't work, there's always denial; 'I'm sure she didn't mean it the way it sounded;'... 'She must have misunderstood what I said;'... 'Maybe she had something in her eye;' and or course... 'Yeah, she's had a rough day, maybe tomorrow night.'
Then comes the day ... no, it's not really a day, it's a moment, really; then comes the moment when it all falls into place; when you look back on the sarcastic comments, the weird responses to something you said, the nasty looks you caught out of the corner of your eye, and the lack of passion in the bedroom; that's the moment when you look back on all that and say ... why didn't I see it before now?
It's right after asking yourself that question that you start to feel the pain of her betrayal; the realization that the woman you love above all else, the person around whom your entire universe revolves, has been unfaithful.
That's when your stomach muscles tighten up, you gasp for a breath, your heart starts pounding like a drum, you break out in a cold sweat, and your eyes instantly fill with tears.
When the initial shock abates you make the same mistake every guy makes at that point, you ask yourself why. Depression hits like a sludge hammer, you start to feel inferior, like less of a man and you start to blame yourself, torture yourself. 'What did I do wrong;'... 'How did I lose her respect;'... 'How did I lose her love'... 'Was I not a good husband;'... 'Was I an inadequate lover?'
I know all this because I've gone through it, all of it, every thought, every emotion; I felt totally defeated, it was the worst thing I've ever gone through; bar none.
Acting on a tip I received a little earlier in the day, I pulled into the parking lot of the cheap single story motel. Immediately I felt sick to my stomach and fought to keep from vomiting when I saw my wife's Chevy parked in front of one of the rooms.
I wedged my car between two others in the far corner of the lot and waited; it was during the next twenty minutes that I asked myself every one of those questions, experienced every emotion, and cried as my heart broke apart piece by piece.
I watched as my lovely wife exited one of the rooms hand in hand with her boss. I picked up my camera from the passenger's seat and started photographing them as they embraced for a parting kiss.
As a professional photographer I seldom relied on my camera's auto focus but thank God for the capability because there was no way I could capture a sharp image through my tears otherwise. The powerful telephoto lens allowed me to zero in on Jean as she looked amorously into the face of her lover. I don't really know why but I kept snapping away; just reflex I guess.
After they drove off in separate vehicles all I could do was sit there; why didn't I run up and punch the son-of-a-bitch in the mouth? I was pissed at myself, but the truth was, I was so stunned I didn't even think of it. I sat playing the scene I had just witnessed over and over in my head. If I didn't have the proof sitting beside me I would have questioned my own sanity and thought I was hallucinating.
I wondered how long it had been going on; were they in love, or was it just a physical thing? Then I realized it didn't matter; my marriage was over. I felt lost; I started shaking all over, that's when the tears really started to pour. I beat the palm of my hand against the steering wheel in frustration.
I think the last time I sobbed that hard was when I lost my life-long partner. He was a beautiful Doberman Pincer by the name of Brooklyn. He was my protector and constant companion every day of my life until one morning when he didn't wake up. I was ten years old.
Now what, I wondered as I tried to get control of myself; my mind went to a conversation we had not long ago about starting a family. I was just getting established in my commercial photography venture when we were married so we decided to wait before having kids because we needed Jean's paycheck.
Since then; however, I've been able to steadily build the business into a six figure income. Since ninety-nine percent of my work is done on location I didn't even need a studio, I worked from my home; in addition to saving money it also gave me some great tax breaks; all and all, we really didn't need Jean's salary any more so we talked about her quitting and becoming a stay-at-home mom. I thought she'd jump at it, but to my surprise she was reluctant saying she needed a little more time to get used to the idea; now after seeing what I just saw I believe she had a different reason for not wanting to quit.
I took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, I wanted kids with all my heart but maybe it's better this way, I thought.
About the time I had decided to just go home and confront Jean with the pictures I had just taken, my cell phone rang. I looked at the display and saw it was Jack Northrupe, a longtime friend. Years prior I worked as a staff photographer for one of the largest newspapers in the state; Jack was an investigative reporter, one of the best. He and I worked on several assignments together and have been good friends ever since.
At first I was going to let it go to voice mail then thought why not take it; I could really use a friend about now.
"Hello," I answered trying to sound normal, evidently unsuccessfully.
"Hi buddy, you okay? You sound a little down, everything alright?"
I hesitated, did I really want to advertise that fact that my wife was cheating on me? Hell, I thought, people are going to find out anyway, it's not the kind of thing you can keep secret for long.
"Ah ... no Jack, actually things are pretty shitty," I said.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Dalton, anything I can do?' he asked.
"Well, to tell you the truth, Jack, I just need someone to talk to."
"Look, I was calling to see if you could meet me for a beer at Plato's Place in a little while anyway; when can you get away?"
"Oh shit," I said just realizing what time it was, "I'm already late; I was supposed to meet a client and take shots of some model homes; he's a real estate developer. Fuck it, I'm going to call and tell him I got deathly ill; it won't be a lie, believe me. I'm going to call him right now and reschedule; I can be at Plato's in twenty minutes," I told him.
"I'll see you there, my friend."
As soon as we hung up I called my client and rescheduled the shoot, he wasn't happy but there was no way I could concentrate on the job anyway.
Jack was already sitting at the bar when I walked in. He didn't say anything, he probably didn't want to embarrass me, but the first thing he did was look at my eyes, they must have still been red and puffy from crying.
"Why don't you grab a brew then let's go over there," he said pointing at a table in the back of the room, "It's a little more private, you can tell me what's going on."
It was hard to talk about. We both sat in silence for a couple minutes while I tried to decide just how to start.
"I ... ah, I had that appointment scheduled today. It wasn't too far from where Jean works and I had some time so I stopped by just before twelve to see if she was free to have lunch. Beverly, one of the girls she works with, told me I had just missed her, she had already left for lunch. When I asked her if she knew where Jean had gone she said she didn't know, but just the way she said it ... I don't know, it was a little strange, like she was hiding something."
I stopped talking for a second and took a swig of my beer, I took a deep breath trying to keep from crying again; it's just not easy talking about your wife screwing another man.
"Anyway, like I said, I was getting some weird vibes from her, then on my way out another woman approached me; I'd never seen her before but evidently she didn't like Jean very much because she told me if I wanted to find my wife I should go over to the Holly Hotel on Dempster. At first I thought she meant that was where Jean was eating but then I recognized the name, it was some cheapo little dive; I'd driven past it a million times and knew they didn't have a restaurant. I drove over there, and sure enough, Jean's car was in the lot."
"Oh man, Dalton, I'm sorry; damn, I can't picture Jean cheating on you; no doubt it was her car, huh?"
"It was Jean's car, she has vanity plates on it," I replied.
"Shit, what'd you do?"
"What could I do, I had no idea what room she was in; I parked in the back of the lot where I was pretty sure she wouldn't see me and waited; I was there about twenty minutes when she came out holding hands with Irv Jackson, that's her boss."
"Listen, if this guy is her boss maybe he's coerced her, you know, sleep with me or you're fired; something like that," Jack stated trying to give me hope.
"I doubt it, when I say boss I'm using the term loosely; he's not really her boss; I mean he doesn't have the power to fire her or anything like that. He's an outside sales rep, he travels around selling industrial lighting. When he gets an order he sends it in to the company; Jean fills it and makes sure everything gets shipped."
"God, I just can't believe it, Jean adores you, man. Did you guys have a big fight or something, why would she do that to you?"
"Why? Huh, that's what I've been asking myself, why? To answer your question, no we haven't had any fights, not really; she has been kind of grouchy for the last few months but we haven't really fought about anything."
"So what are you going do?"
"Divorce I guess, I'm sure as hell not going to stay married to woman who doesn't love or respect me."
We both sat in silence for a few minutes before Jack spoke again. "How bad do you want to get back at her?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You know; I mean, if it was me I'd want blood, man; I'd want revenge ... on him as well as her. I know you got to be hurting big time, but you can't tell me you're not pissed too."
"Well of course I'm pissed," I answered a little annoyed at what I thought was a stupid question. "What are you getting at?"
"Do you have any proof of the affair?"
"Hell yeah ... well, not real proof; I got some pictures of them kissing when they came out of the room."
"No, that's not enough, you need enough for probable cause," Jack said.
"Probable cause; I give up, Jack, what the hell are you talking about?"
"This is Illinois, adultery is illegal in this state my dear friend," he said with a smirk.
"It is?" that was news to me, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely; it's a class 'A' misdemeanor. More than likely they'll never be prosecuted but between you and me we must know thirty or forty cops; I'll bet we can get them arrested and thrown in jail for a day or so; maybe even get the paper to print the story."
Jack looked at me and saw he had my attention.
"Think about it, if they're actually arrested it would be newsworthy; I'll bet you any money I could get the paper to run the story; if you're there with your camera I might even get them to print the art as well; you want a by-line?" he asked with a devilish smile.
With all the agony I had been going through I'd never even thought of revenge but suddenly it was sounding pretty damn good.
"You'll need to get some evidence though. You'll need enough for probable cause."
"Shit, how am I supposed to do that?" I asked forgetting for a moment that I was sitting with one of the best investigative reporters around.
"Does she use a smart phone?" he asked.
"Yeah, exclusively; we don't even have a land line anymore," I responded.
"Okay, I know they work together but I'll bet they still communicate over the phone; text messages, phone calls, pictures ... something. They're not cheap, two, three hundred bucks, but you can go on line and get spyware for her phone. It's a little do-hickey you plug into her phone then download the program; it literally takes seconds. It lets you monitor incoming and outgoing calls, text messages, dates on her calendar, all kinds of stuff. The good ones even turn her phone into a listening device, like a bug. If they're within range you can hear everything they're saying to each other; it even lets you track her with the GPS and you can monitor everything from your computer."
"Are you kidding; Is that legal?"
"Well, technically no," he thought for a second, "Is her phone in your name or hers?" he asked.
"Mine ... well, the company's really; why?"
"Well, you're supposed to tell all parties on the phone that you're recording their conversation but there's a little provision about taping calls that were made for illegal purposes; since adultery is a crime you could argue your phone was being used for unlawful intentions."
"Are you sure; tapping a phone is a federal offence, shit I could wind up in more trouble than either one of them."
Jack thought for a moment before speaking. "Don't worry about it, Dalton; go ahead and get one of those things; when the time comes to bust them you'll make an anonymous tip to me with their room number, I'll contact the police saying I believe the room is being used for criminal acts, that's all."
I thought for a second, "You really think this will work?"
"Listen, half the cops in Chicago-land owe me a favor, we'll make it work."
I guess I got kind of quiet; I had all the faith in the world in Jack; he wouldn't come up with a scheme like that if he didn't know he could pull it off, but did I really want to do this? He must have been reading my thoughts...
"I know," he said with sympathy, "You're wondering if you really want to get her arrested?" He took a swallow of beer, "That, my friend, is up to you. It's kind of drastic, I know."
I sat nodding my head in agreement with his last statement.
"Even if you don't have her arrested, I'd still get that spy device and find out just what exactly is going on. Who knows, what you saw might have been perfectly innocent," he said knowing neither of us believed that.
We didn't talk much longer after that, I had some thinking to do and Jack had to get home to his own wife and kids. I thought about what he said regarding that spy thing for her phone and decided it was a good idea; as unlikely as it was, I prayed he was right about it being innocent ... yeah, right!
I didn't waste any time ordering the gizmo Jack talked about. I always carried my laptop with me. Mostly I used it for editing photographs right on location but I could get on the net from anywhere by linking it to my smart phone, which is what I did as soon as I got back in my car. It didn't take very long to find what Jack was talking about, there were a bunch of them out there. I found one that would act as a listening device like he mentioned and paid extra to have it shipped overnight with special instructions for it to be held at the post office for me.
It was a little strange but I actually felt slightly better after that. One of the emotions I forget to mention before was control, or should I say the lack of it. Finding out your wife is having an affair really makes you see how little control you have over your life, even for guys like me who thought he had things pretty well handled. Now at least I was doing something, I was taking back at least some control.
All that evening I tried to spend as much time as I could away from Jean. I tried to act normal, but unless you've tried it yourself, you have no idea how hard that is when your whole world is crumbling down around you.
I went into my office and pretended to be editing shots from some imaginary big shoot I'd had. I waited until I was sure Jean was sound asleep before crawling into bed. Having her body so close to mine was tearing me apart again. I finally drifted off, but not before silently shedding more tears.
The next day I almost blew my first job because I just couldn't concentrate on what I was doing. Even the client asked me if something was wrong. I did the best I could to keep focused then headed to the post office around three.
I showed my ID to the cute little thing behind the counter and told her they should be holding a package for me; five minutes later she emerged from the back room with it in her hands. I opened it like a kid at Christmas. I read the instructions and downloaded the bug on her phone later that night. I set it up so I could monitor everything from my laptop; it didn't take long to strike pay dirt.
I had already checked a couple of times first thing in the morning to no avail, but around ten-thirty I saw Irv had sent my wife a text, although she hadn't answered it yet.
Irv: Hey beautiful, I have a pretty light schedule on Friday, you want to get together?
If she said yes that gave me two days to plan; the problem was I didn't know what I was going to do yet. I had just rested my head back against the car seat to think when I heard a phone ring...
"Hello," it was the bastard.
"Hey, it's me; I got your text but I was standing right next to Beverly and couldn't answer," replied my loving wife.
"Hell, Jean, she has to know something by now anyway; she's not dense."
"Yeah, I know," she responded, "but there's no need to rub her nose in it. She even covered for me the other day. She said Dalton was here to take me to lunch day before yesterday; she told him I had already left and she didn't know where I went."
"Well it was probably the truth," he scoffed.
"Yeah, I know; I'm wondering why Dalton didn't say anything about stopping by. He's actually been kind of quiet the last couple of nights too, you don't think he suspects anything? God, it would kill him if he found out about us."
"Hell, Jean, you're the one living with him, not me; what do you think? I haven't seen him since the company picnic a couple months ago, he didn't seem suspicious then, in fact we had a nice conversation about how fast kids grow up these days."
"Yeah I know, he mentioned it when we got home, he said he thought you were a good father."
"Now you're making me feel guilty, damn it; I like your husband."
"Yeah, I think he likes you too. Like you said, maybe I'm just feeling guilty; I got thinking about him coming to take me out to lunch while you and I were together and it just kind of reminded me about what we're really doing; I mean when we first started out it seemed like just harmless fun, but there's no two ways of looking at what we're doing now, we're both cheating on our spouses. Jeez, I don't even want to think what would happen if they ever found out; I don't know about Marge, but it would kill Dalton; I doubt that he would ever forgive me, Irv; we're really playing with fire here."
"Yeah, Marge too; shit she'd probably kick me out of the house for good. Well what do you think, should we cool it for a while?"
There was a long pause on both ends before Jean answered him.
"Actually, I've been kind of snippy the last few months; that could be why he's being so quiet. Every time he opens his mouth lately it seems I'm jumping down his throat, I think I've been using it as a defense mechanism, you know; it's like the closer he and I are as a couple the more guilt I feel, so if I can create some space between us I don't feel quite so guilty. That's not right though, I've got to stop that; Dalton hasn't done anything for me to be mean to him."
"So, what do you think, are we on for Friday or not?" Irv asked her.
"Yeah, let's figure on Friday but maybe we should take a break after that. I need to reconnect with my husband; I really do love the big lug you know," she said.
Dalton heard Irv chuckle on the other end of the phone, "Yeah, I know you do; I love my wife too. Okay, Friday, regular time, then we'll call a truce for a while."
"Okay," she responded, "Are you coming into the office today?"
"No, not today, I'm booked; I'll be in tomorrow but not till about four," he replied.
The rest of the call was about business. I slowly lowered the cover of my laptop. Friday was only two days away; if I wanted to get them arrested I was going to have to call Jack right away so he had some time to get things arranged. I leaned forward and put my head against the steering wheel to think. There were so many things to consider.
Maybe I could just look the other way, just this once. It sounds like this would be the last time, at least for a while and she did say she loved me. Maybe I could let things cool down for a while then tell Jean I knew about the affair and tell her not to do it again ... no, I thought as my anger resurfaced, what the hell am I thinking; I won't spend my life like that, worried, wondering where she is every time she's ten minutes late; bullshit, I couldn't live like that, I won't live like that.
After two days of pondering, my final decision was made in the blink of an eye.
"Hello, is Jack Northrupe there please?" I put a hanky over the phone; I had no idea if it really masked my voice or not but they do it in all the mystery movies so why not.
"Yeah, can I ask who's calling?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.
"No, just tell him I have some information about some illegal activity that will be taking place on Friday."
"Just a minute, Please," he said before hollering to Jack about an anonymous caller on line three.
"This is Jack Northrupe, can I help you?"
"I will not give you my name, Mr. Northrupe, but I wanted to inform you there will be some illegal activity going on in one of the rooms at the Holly Motel on Dempster this Friday around noon."
"I understand," said Jack, "I will have the police there to investigate."
Well, it was done; now all I had to do was live with my decision. I also had to live with Jean for the next two days, how was I going to do that, I wondered?
It sounded like she was planning to be nice to me when she was talking to Irv; she can be very romantic when she wants to be. I pictured her cuddling up to me on the couch, maybe with some wine; once we got into bed there would be no stopping her; she knew my buttons and how to push them; God I was going to miss her I thought as new tears found their way down my face.
I thought about it for a few minutes then came up with the solution; although I had never done it on short notice before, I did have to go out of town now and then. I had already cancelled everything I had scheduled for the rest of the week. I drove home and packed a bag. I was already checked into a motel several miles from home before hitting speed dial. I had my laptop open and ready to link up to my phone as soon as I was done with the call.
"Hi honey," she answered sounding as if she was in a good mood, "I was just thinking about you, your ears must have been burning."
"You were," I said trying to sound upbeat. "And what were you thinking?"
"Well, for the last few months things have been kind of crazy at work and I'm afraid I've been taking it out on you, so I'd like to make it up to you. I thought maybe we could check into a nice hotel for the weekend and you and I could engage in two full days and nights of wild, passionate, mind blowing monkey sex; the way I see it, neither of us should be able to walk by Monday," she said laughing.
Under normal circumstances my heart would be pounding away to hear her talk like that, but knowing the full story, it only made me even sadder. I tried using that sadness as an acting tool as I responded, "Honey, I'm sorry to tell you but I won't be around this weekend, I've..."
"Won't be around," she almost screamed, "What do you mean, where are you going?"
"Ah, well I just got an out of town assignment, Honey; sorry, but the money is just too good to pass up, I'm already on my way and won't be back until late Saturday night."
She didn't say anything for a good fifteen or twenty seconds, "Honey, what's going on, this isn't like you," she finally said sounding worried.
I didn't want to blow it now; I'm no actor but I had to put on a real performance. "Nothing's wrong, honey; this just came up," I said trying to make it sound important.
"Can't you postpone it? I was really looking forward to this weekend, babe."
"Honey, this is a chance to steel a major account from Hubbard's, one of the biggest studios in the city," I said, making it up as I went. "Everything was all set for a big advertising shoot tomorrow down in Logan County but somehow Hubbard screwed up the scheduling and can't make it. It'll cost the client thousands of dollars if it doesn't get done. Somebody recommended me. If I get down there and save the shoot it could mean getting a new client worth a hundred grand a year; Honey, I can't pass that up."
I heard her sigh then there was a moment of silence before she spoke. "Okay," she said with what sounded like true sadness in her voice, "I understand, I guess we can do it the following weekend."
As soon as we said our goodbye and kissed each other through the phone, I dialed up the Internet and linked it to my laptop. I thought sure she'd contact Irv right away but there was nothing. She must have laid her phone on her desk because when I activated the bugging device I could hear her shuffling papers around.
"Irv just faxed in these purchase orders, he wants you to go through them and make sure we have everything in stock, if not he wants you to call him," I heard a voice say. Then I heard my wife's voice answer.
"Okay, thanks Beverly," I didn't hear any reply, then my wife spoke again. "Beverly, what's the matter; we used to be friends but you haven't said a friendly word to me in months; please, what's going on?"
"Okay, since you asked, I used to think you were a good person; you have a wonderful husband, but you turned you back on him; he deserves better, you're nothing but a slut," she said putting as much venom as she could behind her words.
I heard Jean gasp at the statement; then I thought I heard Beverly walk out of her office; my wife started to cry. I got worried that her co-worker's words had given Jean a sudden shot of morals and she might call off her little tryst; I was waiting for her to call Irv but all she did was weep quietly.
I continued to monitor my wife's communications to make sure the cops weren't going to raid an empty room on Friday, but the only other talking she did with Irv was on Thursday afternoon when he went into the office. They talked mostly about business; only at the end of their conversation did Jean express her regret for ever starting their affair, but when asked again about the following day, once again she confirm, what they both acknowledged, would be their last rendezvous for a while.
I got no sleep Thursday night at all; I kept asking myself if I was doing the right thing. Maybe with counseling we could put this behind us? Maybe ... possibly ... what if ... I used those words a lot in my thoughts all night long, but as I watched the room lighten from the morning sun, I knew my marriage was over; this was revenge ... on him and her; just maybe she'll understand how much she hurt me as they lead her away in cuffs ... but then I doubted it, if you haven't gone through it yourself there is no way to understand the kind of grief a person experiences.
At eleven o'clock Friday morning I met with my private little swat team at our predetermined place around the back of the restaurant across the street. Jack was there with Dave Wyland, a sergeant in our local police force and a mutual friend we'd known for many years; with him was another officer who looked familiar but I didn't know by name and a rather husky female officer. Dave made the introductions and told me they had already spoken to the desk clerk. He would put them in room one-thirteen; Dave already had the key card to the room. We would give them about twenty minutes before making the bust. Dave had a complaint form already filled out ready for my signature.
About eleven-thirty a car drove in and a man went to the office, but from across the street I couldn't make a positive ID. He went back to his car and was evidently waiting; sure enough, "Here she comes," I said as I recognized Jean's car driving in. She parked next to the other car and waited for Irv. He got out of his car with a small suitcase and gave Jean a peck on the cheek before they disappeared behind the door of room number one-thirteen.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Dave, "You can still back out."
"Yeah," said Jack, "If you do this there's no turning back, Dalton."
"I know," I said sadly, "I thought about it all night." I felt tears welling up again in my eyes but I was determined not to back down. I set my camera on auto-focus, "Let's get it over with," I said.
With that we all piled into two squads and pulled into the motel parking lot blocking in both of their cars. "POLICE, WE'RE COMING IN," yelled Dave as he pounded twice on the door with his fist. Almost instantly after that the other officer swiped the key card and they rushed in.
Jack and I waited until the rest were inside before entering. I saw Irv through the doorway as he jumped from the bed naked as the day he was born; it looked as if he had been straddling Jean's face, most likely getting a blow job.
"I know what this looks like but it's all consensual," he was screaming, "Honest; Jean tell them I didn't force you, this isn't rape, you've got to believe me," he was talking a mile a minute.
At the same time Jean was freaking out, screaming at Irv to tell her what was going on; that's when I walked in and saw her. She was lying on her back completely naked with her hands stretched over her head and cuffed to the headboard. She was wearing a black leather blindfold that kept her ignorant of what was happening. Her legs were spread apart and tied to the corners of the bed frame; there were clamps biting into her nipples and she had a vibrator strapped to her pussy.
"Irv, please; oh my God, what's going on, Please tell me," she was screaming in hysteria.
Irv was too busy trying to explain the situation to the cops to answer her; he was so caught up in his psychobabble he didn't even realize I was there until I started taking pictures. He saw the flash and turned in my direction looking as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Oh shit," he said finally starting to comprehend what was going on.
"What," pleaded Jean again, "Tell me what's happening, please," Jean was now bawling from fear.
"It's Dalton," he sadly informed her.
"NO!" she screamed, "no, no it can't be ... oh God, no!"
By that time Dave and the other male cop moved Irv out of the way so the female officer could get to Jean. "Where are the keys to these?" she asked referring to the cuffs.
"There, on the table," replied Irv with a saddened nod of his head.
As soon as the cuffs were removed, Jean pulled off her blindfold with a look of absolute terror, "No; oh my God, no," she wept putting her hands to her face. She didn't even try to cover herself; I don't know if it was from shock or maybe she just figured it was already too late for that. The woman officer pulled up half a sheet and threw it over her.
"Irv Jackson, Jean Conrad, I'm placing you both under arrest for adultery," Dave told them.
"Arrest; adultery, wait a minute," Irv yelled, "You can't arrest us for adultery, that's not against the law!"
"I'm afraid it is, and we can, Mr. Jackson. Now put some clothes on," Dave told him bringing him to the pile of men's clothes on the floor.
While he was getting dressed the female cop went around the foot of the bed untying my wife. I saw Jean's hand moving under the sheet as she removed the nipple clamps and the vibrator herself.
"Dalton, listen man, I'm sorry, neither of us wanted to hurt you, man, but come-on, please stop this," wailed Irv now with his own tears streaking his face. "Please, think of my family ... my kids..."
"You fucking asshole," I shouted as Jack grabbed me to keep me from getting within slugging range, "You sure as hell didn't think about my family, did you; what about my marriage; what about my kids, the ones who will never be born now; you mother fucker I hope they throw your ass in jail and throw away the key," I screamed.
I heard Jean's whimpering break into uncontrollable bawling as the pain I was in became very evident from my outburst. She didn't even try to beg, she already knew it was over. I did hear her repeating how sorry she was over and over between her sobs, but unfortunately it was too little too late ... way too late.
Once Irv was dressed they cuffed him and we all went outside so the woman officer could help Jean get dressed. About ten minutes later the door opened and she led my wife out, also in cuffs.
Our eyes met briefly as they put her in the back of the squad; it was probably a toss-up as to whose face showed the most grief; we both knew it was the end of our dreams and our future together.
"Alright, the show's over," yelled Dave to the small crowd that had gathered, "Go on, everybody go mind you own business." He turned to me as the group of ghouls dispersed, "There's no need for you to come down to the station," he told me, "We already have your complaint."
I sadly nodded my head, "What happens now?" I asked him.
"They'll be processed and held in a cell until later tonight, then they'll be released on their own recognizance but that probably won't be until two or three in the morning. Once it's scheduled, everybody involved will be notified of the court date. I'm sure you'll hear from the D.A., but to tell you the truth, Dalton, I doubt they'll want to prosecute."
"Yeah," I said while trying to keep from choking up in front of everyone, "I figured that. You said she won't get out till two or three; that late, how will she get home?" Funny, with all the thought I gave to the arrest itself, I never thought past it.
"She'll have to call a cab," Dave said. "Normally I'd send a tow truck and impound the vehicles but that would just cost you, not her, so I'm just going to leave both cars here ... unless, you'd like to follow us to the station in her car and leave it in our lot; I'm sure Jack would give you a ride back to your car."
"Can you go ahead and just impound his car then?" I asked.
"Yeah, we can do that."
We weren't in the best of neighborhoods and I really didn't want Jean coming back here at two in the morning so that's what we did; Once we were all back at the station Dave showed Jean where her car would be when she got out later that night; again we looked at one another as I walked over to Jack's car, I never saw such sad eyes in my entire life.
"Dave, I know I'm pushing my luck here, but can I ask you for one more favor?" I asked.
"Sure, Dalton," he countered.
"Can you make sure they aren't released at the same time, I don't want that asshole hitting her up for a ride home?"
"No problem, buddy, I'll make sure he doesn't get out till an hour or two after Jean."
"Thanks ... oh, and I won't complain if he's put in a cell with a big black guy named Bubba who just loves to initiate white guys to the prison system," I said with a forced smile.
"I'll see what I can do," Dave said returning my smile.
On the way back to my car I pulled out my cell and made a call.
"Werthington Industries," announced the receptionist.
"Beverly Billings please," I responded.
"One moment please."
"Hello, this Beverly, may I help you?"
"Beverly, this is Dalton Conrad; I just thought I'd let you know that neither my wife nor Irv Jackson will be coming back to work today; they're both in jail."
"Jail," she said sounding alarmed, "what did they do?"
"You know damn well what they did, and have been doing; adultery is against the law in this state you know ... oh, and I wanted to thank you, Beverly, if I ever have knowledge of your husband cheating on you, I'll be sure to keep it from you just like you did me," I said with as much contempt in my voice as I could muster.
I hung up on the bitch; as far as I was concerned, she was a part of my wife's betrayal ... fuck her too.
Jack and I stopped for lunch but I wasn't very hungry. I managed about half a burger and a bottle of beer. Jack was a gentleman and never mentioned the bondage scene we had just witnessed, but it was sure playing over and over in my mind; I was totally shocked. Seven years of marriage and I had no idea she was into that kind of stuff.
Jack said I should just get shit-faced and go home with him. As tempting as that sounded I was not going to start feeling sorry for myself; once I started doing that I might never stop. I had a business to run ... and a marriage to dissolve; there was just no time for self-pity.
I have no idea how many times I've walked into my house when it was empty, hundreds I would imagine, but that time it was different, it wasn't just empty, it was lonely. It was as if the house itself felt my grief; misery dripped from the walls, and sadness hung in the air like a stifling fog.
I waded through memories of laughter and good times on my way to the bedroom; by the time I got there my face was covered with streaks of salty remnants from the past.
I collapsed under the weight of my heavy heart and cried myself to sleep on the same bed that I had shared with the only woman I'd ever loved.