John & Sue Ch. 1

I then noticed a tattoo on her back, just above her asshole. It had been recently put on since it was still scabbed over a bit. Whoever had done it would have had to have had her totally bottomless since it was in her crack almost to her asshole. It was writing and as I looked I saw what it said. 'Black cock only'. As she turned around I saw that it wasn't dirt but a tattoo on her left breast. It said; 'black satisfied'. Underneath it was a large black cock and balls. I looked up at her face and saw that she was still crying. The men had run off by now, evidently grabbing their clothes and getting the hell out of Dodge while I had been looking at my once prim and proper loving wife. I heard their cars starting up as they left. I was so shocked and stunned that all I could do was look at my once lovely wife, who now looked like a used up whore after a long busy night. At least what I could imagine what a whore would look like after a busy night. I had never seen a whore after a busy night. Matter of fact, I probably couldn't pick a whore out of a line-up at the police station, except for the one in front of me now, my wife, the whore.

We stood there for a bit just looking at each other, now both crying. I finally dropped the gun and went back into the house. I noticed that the cassettes were still in the chair, and the camera was still on the table.

I was in the den trying to sort out my thoughts and what I was going to do now when Sue came in. She had showered and dressed in a robe. She came up to me and was apologizing and still crying. She was trying to get me to look at her but I just couldn't look her in the eyes. She had betrayed me far worse than I could have believed possible. I was numb and her being near me almost made me throw up. I wouldn't talk to her and she was blabbing on and on. My insides were twisted up and I was wound up tight too.

"It's not what you think John. I was forced into doing this and I had no choice. You must understand John. Please, I still love you John, this hasn't changed my love for you." She was getting more desperate as time went by and I was getting tired of hearing her lies. How could she have done this to me? Why would she allow those men to use her like they had? Why had she been enjoying it? What did I do now?

"Just go to bed Sue, you fucking slut!"

She looked at me shocked.

"How dare you call me a slut! I'm your wife. I certainly deserve better than that from my own husband." She was mad at me for calling her a slut. I catch her in the act with a gang of men, black men at that, and she gets upset when I call her a slut.

"Well Sue, you were fucking about five or six black men in our backyard, and you had obviously had one or more in our marital bed. What the hell do you call a woman who would fuck and suck more than one man at a time, and her husband not being one of them? I would call her a FUCKING SLUT, you WHORE!"

Sue burst into tears and sobbing, ran from the room locking herself in our bedroom. I went out and got the shotgun, cleaning it up and putting it away in the guest bedroom. I grabbed the camera and tapes on the deck table and put them in the closet in the guest bedroom also. I then went to our bedroom door and unlocked it. Going in I saw her still in her robe crying. She was lying on the still messy bed. I got my things out of the closet and was leaving the room.

"What are you doing? Your not leaving are you? John, please don't leave me!"

She got up and still crying tried to enclose me in her arms. I shoved her away and pushed her onto the bed. MY marital bed. The bed messed up with cum from those men, who had been fucking MY wife while I was gone. I looked at her and found that I had very strange feelings beginning to surface.

I felt angry, angrier than I had ever been. I felt used, betrayed, and for some strange sick reason, a little turned on. I had been cuckolded and my faithful wife had become a slut. She was nothing but a slut for black men who had used and abused her. They had tattooed her and marked her for themselves. She was no longer just my sweet, loving wife. She was some kind of bad dream, a nightmare really, that I was going to have to deal with somehow. But still for some vague reason, it turned me on. I was ashamed to think that I could be turned on watching the love of my life cheat on me like I had witnessed.

Seeing her being fucked so thoroughly and seeing that she had enjoyed it and was still enjoying it as I watched had been kind of like watching a porn flick. I had been a little turned on, even though I was so angry and upset. She had looked so, well, great, getting fucked in all of her holes, and she had been covered in cum from those guys, well that was a turn-on to me for some reason. I didn't like the feeling that I had when I had been out there with the shotgun, and I knew that I had almost done something that could have cost me dearly.

"We'll talk in the morning Sue. I can't think straight right now, and I am so mad with you that I couldn't think straight enough to know what to do now. You have broken my heart, shattered it into so many pieces. I doubt that I'll ever be the same man again. We definitely won't be the same couple again. You took our love and honesty for each other and tossed it on the garbage heap. You have acted like a cheap two-bit whore. You have destroyed our friendship, our marriage, and our love. I will give you a chance, one chance only, tomorrow. You can try to explain this, this, this fucked up mess we are in now. I don't think you will be able to convince me of anything but divorce but I will give you your one chance in the morning."

I went to bed a very troubled person. My sleep was not good, tossing and turning most of the night. I could hear Sue once in a while, crying and sobbing. Eventually I got a little sleep, and when I woke up in the morning I hoped that I had had a very bad nightmare. When I walked out into the kitchen though, there were reminders of the night before. There were cups, glasses, and wine and beer bottles lying around the sink. On the deck, the lounger with big wet spots and cum stains all over it. The deck table with puddles of cum near where she had been getting fucked. Sickened all over again, I went to the fridge and got a bottle of orange juice and went to the bathroom. I showered there and then went into the living room to wait for Sue to come talk to me, and try to explain what she had been doing. I hadn't recognized anyone last night. I didn't know where she would have met these guys or anything. I called in to work and took the rest of the week off, thinking that I was going to have a full plate getting my soon to be ex-wife out of my house, and cleaning up the glaring reminders of her betrayal.

When I told my assistant that I was taking the week of she was upset. She said that my boss wanted to talk to me about something very important and needed me to be present at work today. I told her I had some very personal problems and there was absolutely no fucking way I was going to be in for the rest of the week. Since I had never spoken to her that way, she was shocked. She really got the message though and told me she would give the boss my message. I told her to tell it to him exactly like I had just told her. She said that she would repeat it verbatim. I hung up the phone and made myself a strong drink. This was going to be a long troubling day.