Saturday was a day of enlightenment, a day of discovery, a day when I learned the cost of being complacent.

The day started the same as any other Saturday. Marge and I got up, had breakfast and read the morning paper together; I cut the grass and washed Marge's car and by then it was 10a.m and Tom arrived to pick me up for our standing golf game. I kissed Marge goodbye, threw my clubs in the trunk of Tom's car and we headed for the golf course. We were in the pro-shop buying golf balls when Tom's cell phone rang. He took the call and I noticed his face cloud over as he listened to the caller. He put the phone back into his pocket; "I've got to cancel out today. Joyce was just hit by another car and I have to go and get her. You want to stay and see if you can find a foursome?" I told him no, just to drop me back at my house. He dropped me in front of my house and I carried my golf bag into the garage. I went in the side door of the house and made the decision that was to change my life - I went down into the basement instead of going up into the kitchen. If I had gone up into the kitchen Marge would have known I was home and would have found a way to stop what was about to happen and I might never have found out what I did.

I was at my workbench when I heard the front doorbell ring followed by feet running down the stairs. The door opened and I heard a male voice say:

"Good morning beautiful, and don't you just look good enough to eat."

I heard Marge laugh, "Not now, maybe later. Right now all I want is to feel your marvelous cock inside me. I'll race you to bed."

I heard feet running up the stairs. I waited long enough to make sure that they had time to get to the bedroom and then I went up to the kitchen. I sat down on a kitchen chair and took off my shoes and then I silently made my way over to the bottom of the staircase. There was no way I could go all the way up the stairs without being seen, but I would be able to get almost to the top and be in a position to listen.

If you really want to know true agony you need to sit and listen to the wife that you have loved for fifteen years make love to another man when she doesn't know you are there. I heard her say things to him that she had never, not once in fifteen years, said to me. She begged him to fuck her, a word she had never uttered in my presence. Other words I'd never heard from her such as cock, cunt, pussy, tits and ass flowed from her like water from a turned on faucet. I had a very hard time believing that it was my Marge in that bedroom.

I am not a patient man. Someone else might have left, waited for the lover to leave, and then come back to confront the wife. Not me! I went downstairs to my den and opened the bottom drawer of my desk, took out the Colt 1911A1, checked the clip to make sure it was full, and racked the slide back and then let it take the top round home. I had no intention of shooting either of the lovebirds, but I had no idea who the guy might be, and if he decided to be macho I wanted to be able to park his ass. I tucked the .45 in my belt and headed back up the stairs.

I walked to the bedroom doorway and then just stood there and waited to be noticed. Marge was on her knees; head resting on her arms and the guy was behind her pumping away. Marge was moaning:

"Fuck me, fuck me baby, that's so good, fuck my ass baby, fuck my ass."

Now I was getting really pissed. I had tried for years to get Marge to try anal sex and she had always said no, that it was too disgusting and she could never do such a thing, and there she was on her knees and begging for it. I watched for nearly five minutes and neither one of them ever looked my way, and like I said, I am not a patient man.

"Hurry it up Jack and get your nuts off, or just get off of her, I don't care which, but do it now!" I said in a voice loud enough to cut through their lust.

The guy jerked his head toward me and I got my second surprise of the day - it was Billy Harpe, the eighteen year old son of our next door neighbor. It wasn't bad enough that Marge was fucking around on me, she was robbing the cradle to do it. Christ! He was fifteen years her junior. Billy's dick must have gone limp the second he heard my voice; he was off the bed and grabbing his clothes in less time than it took me to make my opening statement. When he had all his clothes I motioned him toward the door and he took off like his ass was on fire and he needed to find water to sit in. Marge never looked up. She buried her face in a pillow and didn't move. When I heard the front door close and Marge still hadn't looked up, I turned and went back downstairs, put the Colt away, and went into the kitchen where I made myself a very, very stiff drink.