tagLoving Wives52 Pick-Up

52 Pick-Up

byjuanwildone©

The Shuffle

Last night I treated my wife like a queen. We've been going through a rough patch lately and this seemed the time to set things right. I'd taken the day off from work, ostensively to take our two kids (one of each; Jack fourteen, Chayna twelve) to a weeklong soccer camp, but mostly to make sure everything was perfect. I began by sending two-dozen long stem red roses to Melinda at her work. I wrote the note myself:

Roses are red
My love for you true
My plans for tonight
Will make it clearer to you

Dinner's on me
Dessert is just you
Seconds and thirds
I guarantee you


Yeah, I know, not exactly Shakespeare but I figured it would do the trick. I was right, but you knew that. I got a very passionate kiss at the front door plus a report on how jealous her co-workers were. Melinda fixed me with a lusty gaze, "Lucky doesn't being to describe the night you're going to have."

I took charge immediately and corrected her – "this night is all about you." Step two was to draw my love a steamy bubble bath, complete with a glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay. I told her to take her time while I got dinner ready. Not that I was cooking, I simply drove to her favorite Italian place and picked up dinner for two. I popped it into the oven upon my return. I'd just finished setting the table when I heard Melinda behind me.

"You are a naughty, naughty boy." I turned to see a vision in red. Melinda was wearing everything I'd bought today; the peignoir, the bra and panties set, the garter/stockings and the shoes – the red stiletto's the screamed "fuck me."

She had no idea just how naughty I planned on being. Dinner and lots of wine later I lead her to our bedroom. She followed willingly as I slowly undressed her along the way. Laying her on the bed I rained kisses all over her body. I sucked her nipples until they were swollen, red and erect. I nibbled that certain spot at the base her neck that had her squirming beneath me. Basically I tortured her with foreplay; constantly moving around her body as soon as she got really into whatever I was doing.

She started pushing my head towards her cunt. With deliberate slowness I licked my way down. I sucked and tugged at her labia. I even rimmed her teasingly, not really licking her ass so much as just getting real close. She started mewing as I did it – that was interesting.

"You like me kissing your ass do you?"

"You have no idea." It was more a growl than anything else.

She cried out when I finally connected with her clit. I was the proverbial man with a plan as I deliberately and very softly licked her clit using the alphabet, first lower case and then upper. With the alphabet completed I started on prime numbers only to have Melinda beg me to make her cum. I obliged by sucking her clit between my licks and flicking my tongue over it rapidly. She came with a screeching yowl of delight.

I released her clit just as her hand was moving in to push me away (she gets super sensitive down there when I tease her before pleasing her.) I climbed up between her thighs and pressed my cock against the slit of her cunt – and I didn't move. Melinda went a little crazy at that point. "Inside! I need you inside me. Fuck me, put it in me – now!"

I put it in her all right; I thrust my hips forward as hard and as fast as I could. She grunted when I hit bottom. Then I pulled out of her as slowly as I possibly could. Fast, hard and deep followed by slow, slow withdrawal. Every time I started pulling out she was lifting her hips toward mine as fast as she could trying to control the pace and contact until she was exhausted from her effort. I fucked her through a second and then third cum before we screamed our simultaneous orgasms.

We rested for a few minutes, saying those words that lovers say. Actually I was doing most of the talking, she was somewhat incoherent. I told her again and again how much I loved her.

Then I went down on her again – this time adding a finger then two. I started rimming her ass with my tongue exerting more and more pressure. Melinda moaned as her head was turning side to side, begging me for another fucking as I actually fucked her ass with my tongue. I rose up between her thighs, hooked her heels on my shoulders and pushed my cock down until it centered in her little brown rosebud. I told her I was going to fuck her ass.

Her face was a masque of conflicting emotions. She wanted me in her again – just not exactly where I was planning on going. We had done anal a couple of times, usually when she was fall down drunk. She wasn't close to that. We both knew I wasn't going to force her, but it was clear that I was intending to press the issue – so to speak. I played my trump card (I can't tell you how tempted I was to call it "my hole card.") "Forgive me for being such an asshole these last couple of weeks?"

Her answer was a pushing of her ass against my cock and just like that – I was in. She whimpered at first. Once she got used to it she got into it. I kept a steady pace as I diddled haphazardly with her clit. She seemed to be enjoying the butt-fucking; doing that teeth sucking inhale, open mouth exhale thing. I let my own orgasm build without letting her know. I suppose she was curious when my thrusting became an arrhythmic bucking. My strangled cry of orgasm certainly clued her in. I spent myself in her. I was a very satisfying orgasm.

She figured out what was happening and increased her own thrusting to go over the top. I let her movement push me out of her. I staggered back and sat down on the floor. I couldn't help smiling when I saw her hand dive between her thighs as she masturbated to her final orgasm.

I crawled into bed next to her and fell immediately asleep. I slept very soundly. Awaking early the next morning, I showered, and was out the door before she knew it. I left a note reminding her that I would have to work late to make up for taking the day before off.

Oh I definitely had my work cut out for me today.

Today - I, Timothy Allan Pick, am sitting in ambush for a slut. I checked my watch – any minute now.

The slut would be my wife of sixteen years, Melinda; the aforementioned queen of last nights amorous activities.

Melinda's been cheating on me for, well as near as I can determine, the better part of a year. I've been sure for the last month, suspicious for two before that. My suspicions were based on the little things that flow back and forth between couples; the behaviors, the habits, and most importantly the easy evasions that hint something's not quite right here.

For instance, there were lots of little things that by themselves were all innocently explained. Things like our sex life being way down while Melinda dressing sexy was way up. She was feeling it – I sure as hell wasn't getting it. I know I know that's not much to go on.

One of the primary instances that caught my attention and coalesced my observations into suspicions was a night out - without the kids. Melinda met me at the restaurant having come directly from work. Come turned out to be the operative word, because Melinda had the unmistakable glow of someone who'd just had really good sex. It was in her eyes, her face, and particularly in the way she moved. That night when I should have gotten lucky she begged off sex citing a mild yeast infection. I settled for a blowjob and decided to find out the truth.

So I started checking up on her; monitoring her time away from me, checking the laundry, and listening very, very carefully to everything she said. It's amazing the things you pick up in common conversations when you really pay attention. I've always operated on the idea that a woman will do everything she can to avoid an outright lie. This doesn't mean you'll get the truth, it means you have to really listen and consider all of the possible meaning of the words being spoken. Almost as if you were playing verbal chess – so many possibilities and permutations.

I was surprised at the subtle insinuation of disrespect that permeated our interactions. There was an undeniable condescension – I seemed to have lost my former position in the hierarchy and equality of our relationship. That and it was difficult to get a hold of her at work on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Even though in my mind my suspicions had turned to certainty there was nothing worth going to see a lawyer about.

Then I found what I needed, actual physical evidence; a pair of cum-crusted black sheer panties. I knew the last time I'd seen her wearing these panties. I knew to the day the last time we'd had sex. The discrepancies between these two dates added up to infidelity. As far as I was concerned at that point she was more likely guilty than innocent.

Confronting Melinda was a little more problematic. I mean she'd been lying to me for who knows how long. I assumed that she had her cheating excused by some form of perverted rationalization. I decided on a simple straightforward approach. I suggested another husband and wife only night out reminding her that she "owed me." I asked her specifically to wear the black sheer panties. That night as we dressed I reminded her about the panties and she said I wouldn't be disappointed. Dinner was fine as I generously poured on the attention and the wine. By the time we got home Melinda was as horny as I'd seen her in years.

"Strip for me." I lay back against the headboard hands behind my head. "C'mon you sexy thing – show me what you got." Melinda began to sway drunkenly but shook her head.

"C'mon Melinda you owe me. We haven't had sex in almost a month" (actually it was just 2-1/2 weeks but I wanted her to say that.) I waggled my finger at her.

"We had sex the day you went on that trip – it's only been (she paused) two weeks."

"Two and a half weeks."

"Fine. Two and a half weeks." One fact agreed too. "Come on you sexy thing – take it off."

"Okay. But don't expect this every time you take me out." I nodded my head as Melinda slowly disrobed. Shoes first, then stockings (she showed me a lot of leg, but no panties were visible) her blouse came undone slowly as she labored over every button. Off it came and underneath she was wearing the sheer black bra that went with the panties. She really put the tease on taking off her bra – strap pushed down, then strap pulled back up. Then the straps were down and stayed down.

She did a slow turn and when her back was to me she reached behind and unclasped her bra. Damn she was good. She slowly turned back to face me. With her bra unclasped she cradled her breasts in the bra cups. Then she bent forward, lowering the cups as I hooted for "nipples" before lifting it away and throwing it at me.

"I can't wait to see those panties babe." I rubbed my crotch. Ha! I saw a wave of anxiety sweep across her face. It only served to heighten my readiness. I was ready for some kind of trick on her part. She didn't disappoint me.

She unzipped her skirt bent over and hooked her thumbs in the material.

"Stop! Straighten up Melinda, I want to see your pussy through the sheer."

"Hey, who's doing this strip tease anyway?" She was trying to joke but I heard the hard edge beneath her tone.

"Hey, I thought this was about pleasing me. I want to see those panties."

"What's the big deal with those panties Tim. C'mon. I'm horny, you're horny..."

"I gave you those as an anniversary gift last year remember? They symbolize our marriage, our intimate bond. C'mon humor me – drop the skirt and let me see those panties."

Melinda let the skirt fall revealing no panties. Not only were there no panties, but she was shaved smooth. She put her hands on her hips, "Ta-da."

I was temporarily taken aback. I hadn't expected this. Fortunately, my body did not betray me. An erection right now would have been a point for her. I was surprised at how quickly I re-seized the initiative. "Where are the black panties? Put the black panties on and start over."

"Ah Tim, look a little closer. I've shaved for you, I'm bare down there."

"Yeah, whatever." I congratulated myself on sticking to the issue and a good retort. "I asked to see my wife in black panties...not my wife looking like a porn star."

"Porn star?" She was off balance for a moment, and then her disrespect for me came roaring to the fore. "I did this for you..."

"Says who? I've never asked you to shave, I asked for the black panties." I was ready now and knew the perfect line. "Personally, I think that makes you look slutty."

"Slutty?" Her eyes narrowed as she flushed with anger.

"Just put the panties on...please." I changed my tone to a more accommodating one.

"What is with you and those damn panties." She was losing it and I couldn't have felt more in control.

"I like them! I like the way you look in them. Why is it so hard for you to do one simple thing for me? Would you please put the panties on."

"I couldn't find them Tim, all right?" She was furious with me. "They're probably in the wash."

"You always wash your lingerie together, you have the bra, where are the panties?" I was not about to let this go.

"I told you I couldn't find them." She was getting pissed and I just got calmer and calmer.

"Hey, don't get mad at me. I'm just the guy who gave them to you and asked you to wear them for him." I shrugged in innocence. "All you had to do is say something earlier. I wouldn't have insisted if you had told me the truth. All you had to do was be truthful, what's so hard about that? So the last time you wore them was right before my trip. I remember because you looked so sexy in them when we were getting ready for bed? You took them off – hey, maybe they got kicked under the bed?"

"Look Tim, can we just forget about the damn panties right now." The horniness was draining from her face. I could see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. "Can't you just make love to me?"

"Sure no problem." Melinda sighed in relief. I wasn't done with her yet. "I think I remember where I bought those. Man they really meant a lot to me."

"Yes Tim." Her voice was edged with wariness. "I can see that." She stepped back from the bed, her desire clearly ebbing.

"Hmmm, the last time I saw you with them on was right here in this room?" I rolled off the bed and knelt beside it, lifting the sham. "You took them off before we had sex, right? I think you were standing right about here - remember?"

"I remember Tim. I was standing here, I took them off and we had sex. But now, I'm standing here, I'm not wearing them and I seem to be developing a headache. I think I'll give you a rain check on the rest of the evening." Melinda began to pick up her clothes.

"Whoa what's the problem? They're just panties – no big deal." Melinda looked miserable. "Are we okay Melinda? Is there something you want to tell me? I mean it's been two and a half weeks since we had sex and I make a simple request and now I'm in the dog house. Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't know where the panties were? What's so hard about being honest with me? Why would you try to hide something like that?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to disappoint you. I know it's been awhile since we've been together. We're both so busy with careers and family. I guess I've turned next-to-nothing into a big to-do. I'm sorry."

"Me too. Well how about we re-schedule – well looky here." I smiled as I pulled out the crusty underwear and extended them to her. She took them; looking puzzled, momentarily horrified, then (surprisingly) confident.

"So that's where they've been? I thought I'd looked there." I had to give her credit, she was recovering very quickly.

"Go ahead, put them on."

"They're filthy Tim. I'll make sure you're the first to see them after I wash them."

"That's it?" I had to admire her brazenness.

"Why? Is there something else?"

"We haven't had sex in two and a half weeks. We agreed the last time you wore these you took them off before we had sex. Explain to me what they're all crusty with?" I silently congratulated myself on not sounding accusatory. "It looks like cum."

What happened next was a bravura performance of lies and evasions. We were 'wrong' on the dates and timings of when we'd had sex. She even made a big deal over "realizing" that I suspected her of 'seeing someone else.' I was 'jealous over nothing.' The capper – she though it was 'cute' that I suspected her of being 'a sex-crazed vixen.'

I apologized profusely for my jealousy and poor memory. I watched the look of conquest glow from her. I'm sure she thought everything was alright. It wasn't all right. She was 'wrong,' it wasn't 'nothing,' and there is nothing cute about being a 'slut.' I knew that much.

My apologies dissolved into a white hot quiet anger. My anger ushered in a change of perspective. I was no longer in doubt I knew then that she was fucking someone else. As far as I was concerned our marriage was over. I knew and soon, she would know that I knew.

When you're no longer in denial, you can actually find out a lot in a very short amount of time. I wanted incontrovertible evidence – basically I wanted to catch her in the act - and I was willing to do whatever it took. It's amazing what they can do with modern GPS equipment, a tap on your own phones, a bit of computer snooping and a couple of digital voice recorders. All too soon I had a fairly clear picture; who he was, what they did, how often –and most importantly - when they planned to meet next.

Her lover was some guy named Ernie. They met two to three times per week (Tuesday, Thursday, and frequently Saturdays), usually at a motel on the other side of town. It all seemed so routine when you listened to the recordings. The biggest surprise for me was the complete lack of guilt on Melinda's part. In the taped conversations I was usually characterized as simply someone to be scheduled around. That was it – I was a complication to their being together.

When I realized Melinda's utter lack of concern and the depth of her disrespect for me. I went from some ambiguous thoughts of possible reconciliation - with her really having to make it up to me - to absolute retribution, she was going to pay.

I wasn't going to fight for her – she was now the enemy. I was going to fight her for everything. It's amazing what that kind of clarity that can do for you.

I can even tell you the exact moment that I reached that tipping point. It occurred in the hearing of her side of a single conversation shortly after the panty incident. A voice recorder in her car got this side of a cell phone conversation between Melinda and Lover Boy.

Melinda: Suspicious? - not any more. Tim trusts me completely. You should see him go out of his way to be nice to me. It really is quite cute.

Melinda: I just explained that the crusty semen in the dirty underwear he'd found was his. I said that I'd been looking for weeks for those panties. I thanked him for finding them underneath the washer. He bought it without a second thought.

Melinda: (laughing) Yeah but he's my dumb ass."

Melinda: Yeah I do adore it. Be patient I'm almost there.

Melinda: No Ernie, I've told you before. I love Tim, he's my husband.

Melinda: Yes, I love you too. But in a different way...thank God I don't have to choose. I have the best of both worlds. A husband who makes love to me and a lover who totally fucks me.

It's funny the things you can consider when you no longer care about the other person. The bitch was going to pay – big time.

Playing the cards you're dealt.

My payback was multi-pronged; I wanted Melinda to suffer short-term and long-term. If things went as planned Melinda would never forget her betrayal. I can't say I was looking to put a hurt on Ernie, as far as I was concerned he was just an opportunistic prick. If trouble came his way, so be it

Our kids were a different story; I wanted to protect them from the initial blast of our family dissolving. Plus I wanted it all to land on Melinda. I wanted her to look into their sad faces and know that she alone was responsible. In that way they actually determined my timing. I waited for the school year to end and arranged for them to attend a weeklong soccer camp at a University a couple of hours drive away. The camp ran Monday through Friday.

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byjuanwildone© 132 comments/ 349608 views/ 72 favorites

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