Chapter 3

Sunday comes before Monday, though, and Saturday before that. Sherri came home well before midnight, pissed off because some SOB had slashed the tires on her car "outside the club." Three teens were seeing running away, she said. She'd had to wait three hours for the AAA folks to get there. Apparently, I'd not been observed destroying the tires on the cars and someone else was suspected. I actually had no idea whether the 'three teens' story had any legitimacy, but the three-hour wait sounded about right for a Friday night in this town. I shrugged. None of it mattered in the least.

I was surprised she was home that early though. I'd thought she'd be out a lot later with her fuck toy. If she was outside waiting for the wrecker for any time at all, it meant her tryst with the new man in her life had been a short one--not that it made any difference.

I said a few consoling words to calm her down. She got in bed and went to sleep shortly after coming in. She hadn't wanted any cuddling. I knew why. The odor of cheap motel soap on her body was strong enough to make me gag.

Sunday afternoon and evening, Sherri got very affectionate and wanted me close to her. It was impossible to tell from looking at her that she'd been out fucking some other man on Friday night. She showed no sign of feeling guilty about anything at all. If anything, she was more relaxed and pleasant than she'd been in months.

That, I had read, was one of the classic signs a spouse is cheating. Whether they showed it or not, they usually felt some degree of guilt and would try to "make it up" to their dishonored spouse.

I had talked to my attorney earlier today while Sherri was fixing lunch--he'd said to call him at home if I needed to. He was all set, he said. All he needed was my signature on the paperwork and he'd file them at the courthouse before noon tomorrow. The pictures were bargaining chips if Sherrie contested the divorce. Tomorrow afternoon, I was going to be a free man, in a sense. The divorce wouldn't actually be final for six months, but I'd be separated from the woman who'd brought me so much pain.

That night, Sherri put on a black lace nightgown she knew I liked and glided seductively across the carpet to where I sat on the bed. I didn't want her, not after I'd seeing what I had Friday night. I was trying to come up with an excuse not to have anything to do with her tonight.

I was sick to my stomach again just at the idea of touching her. I sat on the bed and tried to look uninterested. She stayed with it though. She was the very image of a loving wife who wanted some loving from her husband. She exposed a breast, round and pale in the dim light, capped with a dark circle and a proud, partially erect nipple. Coming closer, she rubbed her breasts against my face in a move she knew usually aroused me. Even though I didn't want to--even though I could barely bring myself to be civil to her, her strokes and caresses were beginning to have a visible effect on me. She smirked, knowing the power she had over me. It pissed me off.

Abruptly, I changed my mind. Without any reflection at all, much less a careful consideration of the consequences, I knew I was going to give my dear, deceitful young wife the sex she wanted, and more. It would be one last fuck before we separated forever. If I were rational at that moment, I would have known what I was going to try to do to her was rooted in my own humiliation. There was, perhaps, some arrogance mixed in also. But, at the moment, all I wanted to do was exact a small measure of vengeance for the disgrace that this woman had heaped on me.

Carefully, I built up an image in my mind of a street prostitute. I envisioned a whore who deserved no consideration and who was nothing more than a receptacle for me to use and discard. I would masturbate, using her pussy, when I was ready, but my revenge was going to be a little more subtle than that. If it worked, she wouldn't even understand it as retribution for a long time. I let Sherrie's face blend into the faceless features of the whore I had just constructed. Having dehumanized Sherrie sufficiently enough for my purposes, I was ready.

I stood up and pulled her close. I bent to find the lips I'd kissed so many times before. I started gently, our lips barely touching before I drew back. Once, twice, a third time, and more before I became more demanding. When I came back again, I found her lips open and waiting for me. I pushed my tongue inside, searchingly. I flicked my tongue at hers, teasing her and making it clear I wanted more.

I let my hands roam, sweeping them down her arms to her fingertips in a slow caress. Abandoning her arms, I cupped a hip in each hand and stroked her smooth skin through the silky material. My thumbs stroked the soft hollow inside the hip and moved across what they could reach of her lower belly. She sighed into my mouth as my hands moved behind her to take each ass cheek and knead it gently, massaging them and pulling her tight against my body at the same time. I traced the line of her backbone from bottom to top only to bring my hands back down in a smooth stroke from between her shoulder blades to her ass.

I checked. Her eyes were closed now. She was swaying gently, searching for my mouth every time our lips separated. Her hands fell to my forearms to lie there softly while my assault continued. Her nightie had a wide, scoop neck and I pushed one side off her shoulders.

Leaning over, I touched my tongue to her right nipple, flicking at it gently before swirling all around its circumference. I made her nipple and aureole wet with my saliva, sweeping my tongue around and around the blood-engorged nipple. I sucked her nipple into my mouth and touched my teeth to it. I wasn't biting--just letting her feel the hardness of the enamel against her sensitive skin.

Sherrie was not a very vocal lover. Her commentary was mostly limited to low murmurs that were unintelligible and the occasional "Oh, my precious" when we were making love. Tonight she was confining herself to soft moans and appreciative groans when I touched a particularly sensitive place. It was just enough for me to figure out where to go next. I'd given up trying to get her to talk to me during sex and tell me what she wanted, much less talk dirty.

My left hand was stroking low on her belly and between her legs. I'd thought she'd be sensitive there, considering the hammering I'd seen her blond fuck toy give her Friday night. But if she was sore, she gave no sign of it. I slipped my hand beneath the short nightie and stroked the outside of her thighs before working my way back inside and up to her vulva.

Easing my head back a little to focus on her face, I gently put a finger inside her outer lips, but she only shifted her weight to one side and moved her legs farther apart. Evidently, she was not in the least tender down there. Suddenly, I had contempt for her boyfriend. If I'd been pounding her like I'd seen him do it, she'd have had a puffy, bruised pussy for a week.

I pushed the other side of the nightgown off her other shoulder and cupped her left breast in my right hand. I squeezed it tenderly, gently tweaking the nipple with my thumb. The nipple grew rock hard quickly and I added my index finger, twirling the hard nub between them. I held her breast in my hand; the hardened point poked into my palm. I kissed her right nipple, slathering my tongue all around her aureole and then the rest of her breast. I paid close attention to the soft underside, knowing she loved to be kissed there. Sherrie's breathing grew more ragged as I worked to bring her body to a hard boil.

Bent over as I was, licking and tonguing her breasts, I was in an awkward posture. My back began to ache so I sat on the edge of the bed. Taking her breasts in my hands, I manipulated them a little more firmly while my tongue traced a line down her breastbone and further below to her belly. I got to her bellybutton and paid it close attention, thrusting my tongue repeatedly into it and swirling my tongue around it before moving lower.

I had to release her breasts now; I was stooping over too far over to keep them in my hands. I felt Sherrie's hands leave my wrists and cup her own breasts, manipulating them far more energetically than I had. I pulled the nightie completely off my wife's body and dropped it to lie in a dark pool about her feet.

Slipping off the bed to my knees in front of her, I put little butterfly kisses around her lower belly while my hands molded her butt cheeks, squeezing and massaging them firmly. I found the hollow of her hips with my lips and kissed from the point of her hip inside and down to where her thigh met her vulva; I did the same on the other side, taking care not to hurry my kisses at all.

I stood. Using my hands on her hips for leverage, I turned Sherrie around and gently pressed her down on the bed. Pushing her flat on the bed with her knees just at the edge, I lay beside her and took some time to kiss her lips once more. I took each nipple into my mouth in turn, sucking at it and trailing kisses down each side of her breasts before tonguing my way down her abdomen. Sliding back down onto my knees on the floor, I spread her legs and bent to kiss her lower belly.

Pulling back and straightening my back for a moment, my hands gently stroked the inside of her thighs in long, sweeping moves. Leaning over, I replaced my right hand with my lips and kissed her inner thighs from knee to groin and back again. My tongue brushed the lower opening of her slit when I went from one leg to the other, making her gasp and twitch each time. Gradually, I paid less and less attention to her thighs and more to her vulva.

Sherrie had a beautiful pussy. She was proud of the fact that her inner lips didn't protrude beyond the outer ones. She trimmed her pubic hair but had never shaved it for me. I'd asked many times earlier in our marriage but she always said she'd feel naked with out that patch of hair. I'd never understood her reasoning; she'd have to actually BE naked for me to see her pubes under any circumstances... but there it was. It was her body. I had eventually quit asking. I let the memory slide away.

I leaned in to touch my tongue to the lowest part of Sherrie's labia majora. Tracing the outside of her right labia, my tongue swept up to the top of her slit and back down the left. Sherrie sucked in a short breath and her thighs quivered in reaction to my touch. Reversing course, my tongue worked back up the left side and came down the right. Her fingers clamped down on my forearms like vices. My hands had been resting on the tops of her thighs, but now I began caressing and stroking the sensitive insides and underneath.

Abandoning any further attempt at teasing, I urged her outer lips apart with my tongue and slipped it inside to rake the length of the more tender labia minora. Sherrie's legs jerked spasmodically. She pulled her knees up as she fought to push my mouth away from her sensitive inner flesh, but simultaneously she was pulling me closer. Her feet waved in the air, kicking out as nerve endings fired randomly. She wasn't aware of what her lower body was doing, nor was she in control of it.

I licked my way up the left side of her blood engorged inner lips and down the right. I lapped up juices spilling from her vagina, spending a moment or so at the bottom of her slit just because I liked to do that. I licked from bottom to top on the left and back down the right side. I felt her struggle up onto her elbows to look down the length of her body at me.

When Sherrie saw what I was doing, it made her all the wilder. Her body rocked from side to side as she tried to anticipate where my tongue would be next. She was wriggling all over the bed now, unable to keep still under the non-stop stimulation of the most sensitive parts of her body. It was hard to keep her fixed well enough in position so that I could continue my oral assault.

After a few more strokes from my tongue up and down her hot, drenched pussy, I moved up and used my tongue to search for, and locate the little nubbin of a clit peeking out of its concealing hood at the top of her opening. When I touched it with the tip of my tongue, Sherrie's whole body convulsed. Her hands clamped down on mine so fiercely I had to tug them free. She began humming a faint, high-pitched little whine. When I touched her clitty again, she grunted as if I'd sucker punched her. If she had been writhing before, her body tried to twist itself into a pretzel now. It was difficult to keep my mouth plastered to her vulva. I lapped up her juices as fast as they poured from inside her cunt.

Her clit tried to hide as I played with it, but I coaxed it out into the open with my fingers and tongue. With it more clearly exposed, I attacked it, playing with it with the tip of my tongue and twirling my tongue in circles all around the hood that shielded it. While I did that, I slipped my right forefinger beneath my chin and into the drenched flesh at the bottom of her slit to moisten it with her own juices. It took no time at all to coat my finger with the fluids pouring from her cunt.

I slowly inserted that finger inside her vagina and leisurely withdrew it, only to slide it back in--deeper this time. I built up a steady rhythm, moving slowly but adding speed as her vagina opened more. I added another finger and pressed both inside her pussy. Sherrie's legs spread even wider and she began to moan and whimper at the sensations sweeping up from her groin.

I stopped working my tongue around her clit long enough to move more to her side. From here, I could resume my assault on her clitoris with my head at an angle that left plenty of room at the bottom of her pussy for me to press two fingers inside her with my palm up. Working them in and out slowly, I found that sensitive little place on the front wall of her vagina they call the G-spot. I made sure my fingertips rubbed it gently with each stroke.