A lover can always tell when he's no longer alone in his beloved's heart. He can sense when another man assumes primacy in her thoughts. All the heartfelt effort in the world can't stop the flow of love as it leaves you, and goes to another man. At least that's how its always worked for me.
You know going in that some relationships aren't going to last, You know that your highschool sweethearts are unlikely to be the love of your life. Summer love ends in the fall. That sophmore college soulmate probably won't be around for graduation. We expect things to be different in marrage. We exchange vows before God and man, forever, till death do us part. But the two people who made those vows become very different people with the passage of time.
I'd been here before. I knew the signs. Her email became password protected. She hid a second cellphone. The sheets were changed more often. Her wardrobe grew. Sex became more frequent, while love-making declined.
Joan sold real estate, but her schedule was much the same as mine. Nothing changed. I began to find ways to watch the house during the day. I passed by when I ran errands. I stopped using the phone, and began to make my local sales calls and follow-ups in person, driving by. Ironically, my business grew while my life diminished. Checking the house became routine, but then, one day, it was there: the strange car in the driveway.
I know the are flings, mistakes, momentary lapses in judgement that can be overcome. But there is also the real deal. I would see. There are a variety of responses available: violence, confrontation, spitefull revenge, flight, even denial. I would choose. In my experience, none do any more than change the timeline, and then only slightly.
As most in the far North do, I have a snow survival kit in the car. One of the tools I carry is a snow saw. It's a coil of braided wire, coated with abraisive grit, spiked with thousands of razor sharp triangular teeth. It has a split ring at each end, smaller rings captured on the loop. The larger rings are finger holds. You can wrap a loop around and cut brush for traction. I had short dowels for the end loops to make it more effective. You can use pairs of split loops to attach to a improvised frame, to cut snow blocks for shelter. I brought the saw into the house with me.
I heard her keening wails as I entered the door. They rose in pitch as I ascended the stairs. Then they climaxed in a moaning shreik as I reached the landing. I could hear their labored breathing as I reached the open door. The rythmic sighing of the springs never stopped.
I could see them in the dresser mirror from the doorway. He was on his hands and knees above her, making slow shallow corkscrew motions of his cock within her. Their sweaty bodies gleamed in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. Her heaving breaths slowed, strengthened, then began to quicken as her arousal grew again. He rolled to his back, lifting her easily above him. He began deepening his penetration as she grinned down upon him, leaning to offer her breasts.
"Am I better than he is?"
"Well you're much bigger, younger, and better looking. Your voice makes my pussy quiver."
"As Mom never fails to remind me, those are just accidents of birth. Nothing I can take credit for!"
"You're stronger, leaner, and have much more endurance. You know your way around. And its great not having to work around a pot belly!"
"Does he get you off?"
"He's a kind, considerate, gentle lover. He almost always gives me an orgasm..."
"You know me. The first orgasm is like ... just foreplay. The second takes me way higher. A third or fourth drives me nuts! My mind just leaves my body. It's incredible, fantastic. Only you can take me there again and again!"
"Do you love him, still?"
"He's a sweet perfect husband. There's nothing he wouldn't do for me. I love him, but I'm growing feelings for you..."