Chapter 1

At some point, I woke up. Janet curled up next to me as I spooned her. She was snoring very softly. I carefully extricated myself, without waking her and got out of the bed. I covered her naked body with the comforter, then slipped out of the room and went to the kitchen.

I dropped three ice cubes into a glass and poured myself a stiff double-shot of Buffalo Trace bourbon. I sat on a barstool, staring into the pattern of the ice and whiskey in my glass as I slowly spun the ice cubes.

Janet had left me. She was with another man for three days. She never texted me. She never called me. She made no attempt to contact me and seemed to have been too busy being fucked to even care that I might not be okay with what she was doing. Maybe I was worried that she’d been murdered or drugged and forced into prostitution. She didn’t seem concerned or to have any guilt.

I knew I was partially to blame. I had pushed Janet to try the threesome. I’d never agreed to be cuckolded or to have her spend an entire weekend being fucked by who knows how many men, without me. With a clear conscience, I realized my guilt ended the minute she said, “You should leave,” and hers began.

We had agreed to a threesome.

We’d had a threesome. It had at least started out that way. Everything was fine until I was no longer a part of it. When it changed from being two men trying to please her, to her excluding me and giving herself to another man, it stopped being a threesome. Her selfish, slutty actions violated our rules and our agreement. To compound it, when I tried to stop it, she told me to leave.

She told me, her husband, to leave so she could fuck another man.

She rejected me.

She chose Jared. King Dong. It just seemed so out of character for her.

Maybe I could have handled her fucking him, once. Perhaps if she had said, “let him finish” or “just this once” or something like that. Even if she’d said “wait outside,” I would have been mad, but I kind of deserved it. Maybe I would have been alright. Perhaps if instead of shutting me out, she had reached for my cock to blow me while he fucked her, I would have been drawn back into the threesome. There were a hundred different ways this could have all worked out well and one way for it to go to shit.

Maybe.

I will never know because I never got any of those options. Janet told me to leave her alone with this stranger at his house so that he could fuck her one-on-one. That was never discussed, planned or even considered, at least not by me. This is on her.

Sure, I get that she was drunk with from both alcohol and her burning lust. I understand what sexual energy can do to your rational thinking. I could almost bring myself to accept that she was lost “in the moment” as this new man, with his new cock, penetrated her. I get the excitement, the desire, the need. I understand that. I could probably forgive that.

What I couldn’t get was how did it go on for three days. That changed it from a single act of passion, of loss of control, into the most significant act of infidelity and betrayal you could imagine. I could almost forgive that first momentary loss of willpower, the need to be fucked and see it through to the end. What I could not excuse was that Janet stayed with him, fucking him, for three days.

At some point Friday night, she had to have stopped fucking. Her brain had to have cleared from her sex coma. At some point, she had to have realized I was no longer there at the house. She had to have understood why I returned home alone. She had to have realized that she had gone from having a threesome with me and some unknown sperm donor to having a three-day affair with Jared and whoever else was there.

Why didn’t she stop? Why didn’t she get up, grab an Uber and come home? Maybe, if she had come back Friday night, and apologized to me for having lost her head, I would have forgiven her. Perhaps I would have been able to accept it. It would have sucked, but it was not unreasonable under the circumstances. We could have gotten through that. I’m pretty sure of it. Maybe even if she came home Saturday morning. We could have gone to counseling and worked it out over time.

But, she stayed for two more days. She slept with Jared. She woke up with him. She spent the day with him fucking him. She fucked all day and night again and slept with him a second time. She woke up with him and spent the third day with him, fucking, time after time. Where were her thoughts for me? Where were her feelings for us, our marriage, our future?

How the fuck did she ever think that was acceptable? How could she possibly have thought I would tolerate it and forgive it? She had to have known she had thrown away our marriage. Was it so good that she couldn’t leave his house for three fucking days? Was it so good that she would throw me and our wedding vows away just to get fucked a little?

Was it worth it?

I finished the bourbon and poured another glass. I felt sick. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I couldn’t get over it.

I heard a beep.

I drained the glass of whiskey and added more. I needed ice. As I went to get some, I heard another beep. It was coming from the little built-in desk next to the refrigerator. I dropped a couple of ice cubes in the glass, and there was another beep. I moved to the desk and found the tablet laying there. That was the source of the beeps.

I picked it up and logged in. It beeped again. It was Skype that was beeping. I opened the app, and my heart dropped to the floor. There was an active chat, indicated by a little green dot. Next to it was a name. Jared.

Skype has a helpful feature. You can use it on multiple devices. If you do, it synchronizes the chats you have across all your devices. So, apparently at this very moment, Janet was upstairs having a conversation with Jared. Everything they said was echoed here to the tablet in real time. Not only that but any files they sent, pictures they shared, etc., would be repeated to this device and displayed to me.

I tapped on Jared’s name, opening the active chat. Immediately, the screen updated to show their conversation. The messages kept updating and scrolling up the screen.

Janet: I don’t know. He’s not in the bedroom or bathroom. I think he’s downstairs.

Jared: So did you get him to try to claim you back like I told you to?

Janet: Yeah, I did

Jared: And?

Janet: And, after he sucked out all your cum like a good little cuckold, he fucked me and tried to reclaim me.

Jared: And?

Janet: And, what do you think?

Jared: Epic fail

Janet: Yeah, poor thing.

Jared: Did you let him think he succeeded?

Janet: Of course. Now, he’ll be happy and will let us play more without any problems.

Jared: You told him we’re coming over on Friday?

Janet: Yeah, he didn’t take it too well. I’ll work on that. It will be fine. By the time you guys get here, I’ll have him ready to serve you dinner and drinks, then fluff your dicks hard so you can fuck his wife better.

Jared: You’re such a wicked woman.

Janet: You have no idea.

Jared: I can’t believe he never figured out about Steve.

Janet: ROFL. To figure things out, you have to have reason to suspect they’re not what you think.

Jared: Five minutes is all it would have taken to know the guy was only in Alaska for a three-month trip and has been back fucking you regularly ever since.

Janet: What can I say? I’m a good actress.

Jared: Did you watch the videos I sent?

Janet: Not yet, I haven’t had time. We fucked around for a couple of hours, then I fell asleep. You guys wore me out all weekend. It was all I could do to stay awake while he fucked me.

Jared: I still don’t see why you just don’t leave him and get it over with.

Janet: I told you. I’ll leave Dave when you leave Lois. We both know you aren’t divorcing Little Miss Moneybags. Plus, I do love Dave. He’s a good husband. He’s just not a man. I need a man. Or two. Or three.

Jared: Or twenty

Janet: Oh! When?

Jared: You have an important meeting in my office with the Director of the Western Sales region at eight sharp. Don’t be late.

Janet: Yes Sir, Mr. Quinlan, Sir. You’re the boss.

Jared: And who owns that pussy?”

Janet: You do, baby. Only you.

Jared: Ok, you can be a little late. Steven and I will watch your videos until you get there.

Janet: Thank you, baby.

Jared: Good night, Janet. I love you.

Janet: I love you too, baby. Good night.

The chat session ended. My hands were shaking violently. I felt sick. I dropped the tablet and ran to the kitchen sink, puking my guts out. The bourbon burned as it splashed into my sinuses.

A couple of minutes later, I was still retching into the sink as Janet came into the kitchen, wearing only a sheer bathrobe.

“Hey baby,” she said. She’d just called HIM baby. “Are you ok?”

I ignored her, and dry heaved. She picked up the nearly empty bottle of bourbon and put the stopper back in it. “How much of this did you drink?” she asked.

“All of it,” I mumbled, wiping the spittle from my face with a wet cloth. I turned toward Janet, but couldn’t face her. I had drunk all the bourbon but over the last three nights. Tonight, I only had a glass and a half, but she didn’t need to know that.

Janet rubbed my back. “Poor baby,” she said, speaking softly, “Were you worried about me being gone so long?”

I turned and pushed past her, stumbling and staggering. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She didn’t try to keep talking. She assumed I was drunk off my ass and I was fine with her thinking that. Talking was the last thing I needed to do right then. I was afraid of what I might say.

I went out to the family room and lay face down on the sofa, acting as if I was too drunk to stay awake. Janet covered me with the afghan her mother had knitted for us on our first wedding anniversary. She rubbed my head and leaned down and kissed my cheek.

“I love you, baby,” she said, using the same fucking words she’d sent to Jared just five minutes ago. Jared Quinlan, her boss and the Vice President of Sales. Now I knew what the J stood for. I’d never met him before, and he went by J. Ross Quinlan at work.

I ignored her, and she gave up, leaving me in my apparently drunken state to return to bed. I heard her go upstairs and close the bedroom door. I waited a few more minutes, then got up and retrieved her tablet. I stared at it for a long time, reluctant to open it up. Instead, I went to find a pair of earbuds and plugged them in. Finally, I couldn’t delay the inevitable, and I logged in.

Skype was active showing the chat she’d had with Jared. I scrolled up. It went on and on and on. My god, she’d been talking to him in Skype for months. There was just too much to process. I scrolled back down to the bottom, and I flew past a bunch of pictures. I stopped the scroll and was shocked to see Jared had sent close to forty pictures. They all featured Janet, but she wasn’t alone in most of them. Some showed her sucking or fucking Jared. Others showed her with some other black guy I recognized from one of her company parties, but I couldn’t remember his name. Then there were pictures of her with both Jared and the other black man. That meant a third person was taking the pictures.

As I scrolled down, I saw who it was. It was Steven, the guy who had supposedly moved to Alaska with whom we had tried to have a threesome. He was fucking Janet doggy style while she was sucking Jared’s cock. I realized it was not a still picture but actually a video clip I tapped it, and it started.