Don't Stop Believing

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StangStar06
StangStar06
5,801 Followers

Unfortunately, I'd been out of it for far longer than I thought. Dell's Mustang was already in the driveway. I slipped into the house calling his name.

Earlier in the day, I'd been at another neighbor's house and she'd invited us to a party she was having on the weekend. I told my husband the first lie of our marriage. I told him that I'd been down the street instead of next door.

It was the worst moment of my life. I stood there in front of my husband as he sat on the edge of the bed in our children's room and I lied.

It didn't matter that I did it to save my marriage and our happiness, I felt awful. And even as I said the words, I looked at him and on some level I knew that he didn't believe me.

Without another word, he leaned over and kissed my daughter on her forehead as she slept. Then he did the same to her brother. He moved past me then without a word.

Dell and I were always touching each other and I hoped and prayed that just that once he didn't grab my ass. "Oh please Lord," I prayed. "I haven't been to church in the seven plus years since we got married but if you let me get away with this one..."

Dell walked right out of the room without touching me. My prayer had come true. But somehow I still felt as if I'd lost something.

"Dell, where are you going?" I asked.

"Dinner," was all he said. I felt like I'd won the lottery. I went into the bathroom and took a long, very hot shower. Luckily that night was ladies night and I had a plan. Dell loved to fuck me doggy style and that was what he'd get tonight for starters. But I would keep my legs pressed tightly together and squeeze his dick inside of me so he wouldn't be able to tell how stretched out my pussy was. After a few moments of that, I'd have him switch to my ass. The guy who'd been fucking my ass was smaller than Dell so he probably wouldn't notice.

As the warm water cascaded over me, I began to think that I might get away with it. I stayed in the shower scrubbing and douching myself until our water heater ran out of hot water. Then I put on one of Dell's old T-shirts and got into bed to wait for him.

I knew that something was funny because it never took him this long to eat if I was waiting for him; especially not on a Thursday. And that Thursday, after what those assholes had done to me, I really needed to be made love to. I didn't need to be tricked and raped. I didn't need to be gang-banged. I didn't need to be fucked. I needed to have my husband wrap his arms around me and express his love for me physically. I needed to be held and caressed and kissed by someone who treated me like I was special.

After a few more minutes, I went looking for Dell. It was funny but until I started thinking about my husband making love to me the word rape had never entered my thoughts. But that really was what had happened to me. It hadn't been my fault. Those assholes had drugged me and taken advantage of me. They deserved to be prosecuted and go to prison. Unfortunately, I wasn't in a position to do that.

Doing that would reveal to my husband not only that I had lied to him, but that I had left our children alone so I could go to a party. There was also the fact that I was a thirty year old woman, not a young college girl; and I knew what went on at those parties next door. I'd also promised Dell that I wouldn't ever go over there without him.

Any revenge on the assholes next door would have to be done in a way that Dell never caught wind of what I'd done. My marriage meant more to me than getting revenge for a temporarily sore pussy. Besides, they hadn't hurt me. All they'd really done was to warm me up for what I was about to get anyway.

As I looked through the house, I was surprised to find that Dell hadn't touched his dinner. I finally found him in the kids' playroom. He was curled up on the floor watching TV. That alone was odd. Neither of us watched TV.

"Honey, are you coming to bed?" I asked.

"I'll be there in a minute," he said. His voice sounded robotic. He sounded like one of the characters in the movies who've been taken over by pod people. "I'm watching..." his voice trailed off and I realized then that he didn't even know what he was watching. He wasn't actually watching TV. He was just staring at the screen while his mind was somewhere else.

He did follow me to our bedroom and start taking off his clothes. He took a shower, I guess. I don't think he even noticed that the water wasn't hot. And I suppose that I was too busy worrying about my own concerns to notice the pattern in his odd behavior.

Of course, now I can see that he was simply doing whatever he could to avoid me, but then all I wanted was to make it through the night. I kept thinking that if I could just keep going until morning everything would be fine.

We finally got into bed and his skin was ice cold. He also had boxers on. I don't remember him ever sleeping with anything on.

"Dell, take those things off," I said smiling. I moved over to him and took his dick in my hand. That moment shattered me. It's like when you reach down and take out your iPhone. You gently press the button on top of it, ready to be connected to your loved ones, or your friends or the world, through the internet. Then you look down and have that sinking feeling as you discover that your iPhone, the miraculous piece of technology that does so much...doesn't work!

You feel strangely cut off, not just from a stupid phone but from everything. You feel like one of your limbs has been damaged. That was how I felt. We'd been together for ten years and that was the first time that my touch failed to arouse my husband.

Normally if I looked at Dell cross eyed he got a hard-on. I could bump against Dell when he was delirious with a fever and he'd want to fuck me. It was really bad when he was sick and physically couldn't do it, because he still got the hard-on.

I looked at him in shock. "Sorry, I'm just not in the mood tonight," he said.

My mind split open. Differing areas of my brain were all trying to focus on different aspects of the situation. On one hand, if Dell didn't want sex, if we could take just one night off, I was in the clear. On another hand, I really needed to be in his arms. I needed reassurance that I was still loved and cherished and not a whore or a piece of meat like the assholes had made me feel like. And yet another piece of my consciousness wondered why, for the first time in our marriage, my husband did not want to have sex with me.

Instead of working together as a cohesive unit, the different areas of my brain fought for dominance, so I was never able to put all of the pieces together. Instead of a competed puzzle, I was left with all of the pieces.

The next day my sister came over to visit me. We talked about our parents and our significant others and other things that sisters talk about. But after a while she just came out and asked me point blank.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked. "Don't tell me, Ward was a little hard on the beaver last night, right?"

"His name is Dell," I said. "He hates to be called Ward."

"Jeez Sis," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was so serious. But the way you guys go at it is crazy."

"Not last night," I said.

She laughed at me then. "Is that all that's wrong with you? Are you a nympho or something sis?"

"It's never happened to us before," I said. She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Damn girl, you should be glad to have a night off. Nobody fucks every night. Shit, you guys have been together for ten God damned years and you're still going at it like newlyweds. Listen dumbass, the average married couple fucks from one to three times a week. You're getting more than twice that. It isn't unusual for things to get a bit stale from time to time. Go out and buy some lingerie. Talk dirty to him over the phone while he's at work. In no time at all he'll be fucking you like his own personal sex toy again."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Positive," she said. "Mary goes off on a bender and we sometimes don't have sex for a few weeks. Then I'll bend over to get a pot out of a low cabinet and she'll drag me off to the bedroom and fuck me until neither of us can move. There are always going to be ups and downs in your sex life."

I felt a lot better when she left. Dell came home and spent some time looking through his American Muscle catalog. Whenever he caught them on sale he always bought performance parts for his Mustang. That always cheered him up. Well, usually it did. Not that night. After a week without sex, I was beginning to worry. After two weeks, I was climbing the walls. And it wasn't just the lack of sex. Dell didn't grab my ass anymore, he rarely kissed me and even then it wasn't on the lips. Even in bed at night, he didn't hold me or cuddle with me while we slept.

I kept asking him what was wrong, but he just said that he was fine. I was sure he wasn't. In fact, the only reason I could think of that he didn't want to fuck me was that he was fucking someone else. I needed to know who she was so I could kill the bitch and get my husband back. There was no thought in my mind about divorcing him or anything like that. I just wanted him back. Dell and I were forever. Everything else was just in the way.

I work as a stenographer in a very large legal firm. The firm has a lot of PI's and investigators on retainer. I'm pretty friendly in a totally non-sexual way with most of the people who work for us. I decided to ask one of the guys if he could spend some time tracking my husband.

After three weeks he reported back to me. He'd followed Dell every day during that three week period, except for when he was doing work for the firm or the weekends when Dell was home with me.

He hadn't seen even a hint of impropriety. Not only was Dell not cheating on me, he didn't even engage in any harmless flirting around the office. I'd known that he wasn't but it hadn't hurt to confirm my suspicions. I'd noticed that the only time that Dell seemed to come out of his funk was when he was around our kids. When it was just him and the kids, he was still the same old Dell that we all knew and loved. So obviously, the problem lay elsewhere.

Another week passed and I realized that we hadn't had sex in six weeks. I began to get angry then. First I just laid into him and asked him what was going on.

"Dell, Honey what's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"Then why haven't we had sex in six fucking weeks?" I asked.

"Maybe we're in a slump," he said.

"Is there anything I can do to get us out of the slump?" I asked.

"Not that I can think of," he said. He walked away even though the conversation wasn't over. I thought about everything that had happened lately but somehow the incident next door didn't come to mind because I was sure he hadn't known about it.

I went to Dell's doctor and told him about the problems. He immediately gave me some samples of both Cialis and Viagra. He told me to have him try both and see which one worked better for us.

I left them on Dell's dresser and told him to take one before we got into bed that night. He looked at the packages and laughed crazily for over twenty minutes. Then he went to bed.

The next day I told him that he didn't have to be embarrassed about his little problem.

"I've read articles about it, honey. It happens to most men at some time or other," I said.

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"You know, your uhm...erectile dysfunction," I whispered.

He started laughing again and wouldn't stop.

"Dell, this isn't a laughing matter," I said. I was getting angry.

"If you don't have ED isn't there something you want to tell me?" I asked.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked right back.

"I've been kissing your ass for almost two months now," I screamed. "I'm trying to figure out why you've been treating me like shit. I haven't done anything to deserve it."

His face hardened and it scared me. In all of our years together, Dell had never once lost his temper over anything between us. And he covered it up well, but I knew that he was definitely angry at me for something.

As usual, he didn't want to get into a shouting match so he just walked away and left me screaming at him as he did.

For the next few days I put even more scrutiny on Dell. In fact any time he went anywhere alone in the house, I showed up. If he closed a door, I opened it and went in to see what he was doing.

I didn't find shit. He wasn't looking at porn; not that I'd have minded since we often did that together or at least we used to. Then I made a discovery in a very sneaky way. Dell and I had one of those nanny cams that look like a teddy bear. I left it in our room while Dell was taking a nap. I told him I was going out shopping and he just grunted. I waited about thirty minutes and went back into the house. I opened the door to our bedroom and found Dell looking at our wedding album.

I always got home a couple of hours before Dell did so I checked the nanny cam before he got home the next day. While the kids were out playing in the yard, I looked at the footage of what their father had been hiding from me and it made me cry.

My husband, like a lot of men, was masturbating. The thing that was so bad about it was what he was using to stimulate himself. He was using pictures of me. I just didn't understand it. Why would he all of a sudden prefer to jack off than fuck his own willing wife? Obviously there was no question that he found me attractive. God if I wasn't so horny, I'd find it flattering. The problem was that Dell was angry at me for some reason and he wouldn't tell me what it was.

We got into the second biggest fight of our marriage that night. And yes I did it on purpose. I hoped that I could get him angry enough that he'd spill or just let slip what he was so angry about. He didn't.

I took the next day off from work. I still took the kids to school and day care but I was too stressed out to work. I needed to solve the problems in my marriage before I went crazy. I always thought more clearly when I cleaned or did house work. I was working on my garden when it happened. One minute I was down on my knees in the dirt pulling weeds and the next I was turned around to see where the whistle had come from.

I looked straight into the eyes of one of the guys who had raped me. It wasn't the one with the huge dick, but it was one of them. We weren't actually friendly enough to even know their names.

"I guess I wasn't as drunk that night as I thought," he said.

I turned back to my weeding.

"That ass is spectacular," he said. "How come you haven't been back?"

"Like I'd actually come over there and let you rape me again," I spat.

"That wasn't rape," he said. "You liked it and as soon as you told us to stop, we did."

"I didn't like it," I said. "I was drugged out of my mind."

"Damn, we should have told you not to drink the punch," he said. "Everybody who comes to our parties knows to only drink the punch if they want to get laid. I'm really sorry about that."

He seemed so sincere about it. And we kept talking that afternoon. I ended up telling him that I wished I had some of that punch to give my husband. Even as I said it, I realized that it was the perfect answer to my problem. I could spike Dell's drink and let it make him do what he should be doing anyway. It wouldn't actually be rape. They always had a hard time proving that a husband had raped his wife whenever those things came up in court. The husbands always claimed that the wives weren't fulfilling their conjugal duties and that was how I felt about what Dell was doing. It just didn't make sense. Why the hell would a healthy man jack off to my pictures but not touch my pussy for over two months?

"Can you give me some of that stuff?" I asked.

"Well...," he began. "...It's kind of expensive. But maybe we can make a deal."

I knew that it was wrong from the beginning. But I couldn't take another two months without my husband. This time there'd be no chance of anything going wrong. This time we'd be in my house. I drew the drapes in the living room and we went in through the back door so no one would see him coming over. He wanted to fuck me. But I told him that was out. I'd give him a hand-job and let him look at my ass and maybe feel it, but that was all.

As soon as we got into the living room, he sat down on the couch.

"Pull those jeans down," he said thickly. I did and his eyes got huge.

"Shake that fat ass baby, shake it," he said.

"Where's the stuff?" I asked. He pulled a tiny vial out of his pocket. He held it up and then put it back. I had to have it. As I watched, he pulled his pants down too. His dick was tiny. I couldn't really give him a hand job. It was more like a finger job. He enjoyed it though. He started humping his hips then he pushed my hands away and started jacking off.

"Don't you want me to finish you?" I said.

"Get on your hands and knees and shake that fat ass," he said. I did what he wanted, but I couldn't believe that he was getting off on looking at my ass. I thought that only Dell liked it.

Just realizing that he was that turned on turned me on too. Before he got much further I crawled over to him and I couldn't help it I started sucking his tiny dick. While I did it he squeezed my boobs and my fire was lit. Two months without sex and I couldn't wait anymore. There were no drugs involved. I was just imagining Dell fucking me the way he would when I drugged him. I didn't really see a difference between what Dell was doing with my pictures and what I was doing while imagining that this dumb assed frat boy was my husband. Most of all, I needed that vial that he had in his pocket so I could get the real thing.

He pushed me back onto the rug and my legs spread by magic. He pushed his dick into me and I barely felt it. I had to rub my own clit to get me going while he grunted and humped away. I remembered those grunts then. He'd been the one who'd fucked me in the ass two months before. Strangely enough, it all became clear then. The rape next door had happened two months ago. I suddenly realized that you could see into the house next door from some of our bedrooms if they didn't close their curtains.

Could Dell possibly have seen what happened to me and gotten the wrong idea? The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely. I had to call him so we could talk about this. I needed to make him understand what had gone on.

I cried out and pushed the sweating man off of me with strength I never knew I had. "Get off of me," I screamed.

There's a thing called Murphy's Law. I don't remember the exact phrasing of it, but the gist of it is that whatever can go wrong; will go wrong and at the worst possible time.

"You may as well let him finish," said a voice from behind us.

"Nooo," I screamed, as I looked into the eyes of my husband.

"Get the fuck out of my house," he said calmly. "...Both of you."

My brain refused to process what he said. In fact, I don't know the correct medical terminology for it but I just checked out. I can remember everything that happened during my little episode but at the time I just lost control of my motor functions and slumped to the ground.

Dell stared at me and I stared back at him. Only the stupid frat boy seemed to be able to move. He was fumbling with his pants and underwear and trying to pull them up. I don't know what actually triggered it but something did. Maybe it was when the frat boy actually started to realize that he couldn't pull his pants or his underwear up while he was on his knees. But as soon as he started standing up Dell snapped.

He crossed the room so quickly he could have teleported, and punched the guy in the face so hard I heard the popping sound through the hands that I'd placed over my ears.

StangStar06
StangStar06
5,801 Followers
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