Nemesis - Stella

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It was just a bottle of tomato ketchup.
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Once again I must thank my LadyCybelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. Without those two wonderful people I don't think I would still be posting. As always I must also add that I can't leave a story alone. I could well have added some cock-ups after they have seen it and before it gets posted. That should keep the GPs happy at least. Sorry guys no sex.

*

How do you know your loving wife is cheating on you and shagging her private stud on the side? Well, there's only one answer to that. If you're a man that is? You don't know she's cheating. If you did know, you'd break some guy's head or something and divorce the bitch, wouldn't you?

But there comes a time in some men's lives when they suddenly discover what's been going on behind their back and that first discovery can come in the most unexpected way.

Take me for example. Sunday mornings were always the same back then. Stella, my wife, was out early playing golf with her little foursome. My foursome plays Saturday mornings. At one time we all played on the same day but some years back the girls decided that Saturday was better spent shopping. So they changed their day to Sundays.

I kinda staggered out of bed around nine. It was a good one that I'd hung on the previous evening. But I was certainly feeling it that morning. How the hell Stella had managed to get up at the time she did, god only knew. We hadn't got home until nearly three and then we had a good session. Stella gets, shall we say, aroused when she's had a few drinks.

I went into the kitchen and was pleased to see Stella had left the coffee on for me. Then I started cooking my Sunday morning fry up. Well, burn-up really; I'm not much of a cook. Sausage, eggs, bacon and a fried slice. I wouldn't get the fried bread if Stella were cooking it. "That's pushing it," she says.

I was sitting there enjoying my feast when something caught my eye. The bottle of tomato Ketchup I had just got out of the cupboard. The new bottle of tomato ketchup I'd had to open, because I'd finished the last one on Friday night after we got back from doing the weekly shopping. The new bottle of tomato ketchup that Stella had to get especially on Saturday in town because we had forgotten to get some in Asda on Friday. The bottle that had "Asda Smart Price" written on the label. When it should have "Morrisons Betta Buy" written there. That Asda label jumped out and bit me.

Stella had gone into town shopping with her girlfriends on Saturday morning as she always did and had supposedly picked up the ketchup whilst she was there. But the store in town was called Morrisons. The Asda supermarket was out on the bypass, completely in the wrong direction. Stella wouldn't have driven a nearly fifteen mile round trip to the Asda store just to pick up a bottle of ketchup; she would have picked it up in Morrisons in town. If she was window shopping in town with her friends all morning, why the hell would she go all the way to Asda for a bottle of tomato ketchup? We had been to Asda on Friday night for our weekly shop and she had brought a few things in the "George" clothes department; she said there was nothing else she fancied there. So why would she go back there?

Ah, well, I could only assume one of the other girls wanted something there and had almost forgotten about it until the following Wednesday. I was sitting in the office cafeteria at lunchtime when I overheard some guy's chatting on the next table. "Jesus, man, it's a right bloody knocking shop. You can't get a room there on the weekend for love nor money."

"Where is this again?" another voice asked.

"That new Motorlodge they've built on the bypass right next door to the Asda superstore. I wanted a room there on Saturday to take Ruby from dispatch for a couple of hours. But I couldn't get in there for love nor money," the first voice said.

"For a bloody good shag you mean. Look, if her old man catches you, you'll be in for the high jump. Did you hear about what happened to the last guy he caught her with?"

I stopped listening. After that my mind was doing a high jump itself. No, Stella wouldn't? Christ, we have been married nearly twenty-five bloody years. Stella loves me. And the children. She wouldn't, would she? But it would explain that bloody bottle of Asda tomato Ketchup. No, come on. This is bloody stupid. What the hell was making my mind even think it? But it did think it. The bloody thoughts wouldn't go away. Damn, I had to know but how was I going to find out?

All afternoon it played on my mind. I got home from work and whilst Stella prepared our evening meal I sat and looked at her. God, she was one fine looking woman. She got her figure back after having the kids and hasn't really lost it since. Yes, she'd put on a few pounds but it was nearly all in the right places. There weren't very many women that looked as good as she did at forty-five. Jesus she outshone all her friends. I'd seen their husbands looking at her, and I'd felt proud in the past. Now I was definitely feeling worried.

Stella asked me if I was feeling all right and I said I was fine, just a little tired. She gave me a cuddle and kiss and then suggested an early night wouldn't do me any harm. Well, that night was the first time in twenty-eight years that the little fella wouldn't stand up and play ball. Look, I'm usually good for two or three times on the trot even at my age; only the balls do tend to ache a bit if I go three times nowadays. I can remember when I could go seven times, during one night when we were first married. Mind the balls used to ache back then as well so I didn't push things too much.

But that night, nothing. Stella tried to reassure me, that it was probably just because I was working too hard and I said I was going have to see the Doc about it. But I knew what was really wrong. I had convinced myself that Stella was cheating on me. Stella tried again in the morning with a little oral. But he wasn't going to play. I was sure the little fella wasn't going to play again until I knew for sure what was going on.

For the next couple of days I bounced this thing around in my head. Could Stella be really running around behind my back? Well, to be honest, it was eating me up inside and I knew I had to talk to someone about in. So in the end I chose to talk it over with young Danny.

Danny wasn't that young really; but he was ten years younger than the rest of us. He was about 35 and, although he had been on my team for nearly twelve years, he was the youngest of them. He was divorced a couple of years ago when he caught his own wife messing around. I thought he was the best guy to bounce my suspicions off of.

Danny took things seriously straight away. He understood my concerns and suggested I follow Stella the next Saturday. Danny would take my place in my golf four. He had stood in before when one of the guys was on holiday or something. Then I could use his car to follow Stella; she wouldn't be able to recognise me as Danny's BMW had blacked out windows. Illegal in England of course, but the cops had given up stopping him after a while. So much for motoring law enforcement. But it was handy for me.

Saturday morning I was up early as usual and drove to the golf club to switch cars with Danny. By eight fifteen I was parked up the road to my house waiting to see what happened. Around nine Stella came out and got into her car. In theory she should go and collect her friends as I thought they carpooled on their Saturday sprees. But today she drove straight to the big car park in town. There she parked up in a quiet corner and sat there in the car waiting.

I parked where I could watch her and waited as well. After about ten minutes a car pulled across the front of her. I was getting quite worked up now. I didn't like where she had parked. It was over a quiet side of the car park furthest away from the shops. The car moved on again and Stella followed it over to the other side of the car park. Then they both parked beside each other. The doors of the other car opened and Stella's four shopping buddies got out. Then all five of them walked off towards the shops.

OK, you say. That proves my suspicions wrong. But something still wasn't quite right as far as I was concerned. Why had Stella taken her own car? I can remember they all five would travel together in the past. Why two cars today when they all lived it the same direction? It just didn't add up.

I sat there for three hours until they came back. Then I followed as both cars drove out to the Asda store on the bypass. They were in there for about three-quarters of an hour. Then they all came out and I followed Stella home. Feeling very stupid and much relieved I went back to the golf club and switched cars with Danny again before I went home. Stella welcomed me as she always did with a hug and kiss. Then surprisingly she wanted to go up and have a little session. Well, I've got to say it the little guy was feeling a lot happier than he had done all week, as he had kind of missed out on things and he was raring to go. So we nipped up and played for a couple of hours.

I think Stella was trying to kill me with love actually. I'd hardly got through the bedroom door when she had my trousers off and was sucking away on me at the same time as she removed her own clothes. Then she shoved me back on the bed climbed on and gave a good impression of a jockey trying to win the Grand National. Having won the race she swung into a 69 and proceeded to get me on duty again. Then surprisingly she announced she wanted me to take her back door and produced the lubricant.

Well, that really was it. Now I knew that something was going on. Or rather the suspicions came back stronger again. You see, I had only taken Stella in the arse a couple of times in my life. Stella just wasn't into it and didn't like it very much. Suddenly she wanted me to take her arse and had even supplied the lube. That had always been my province in the past and on top of that, she hadn't been drinking. Both times I'd taken her arse in the past; she had been pissed as a newt. Surprisingly the little fella stayed up for the job. Probably the excitement of being offered Stella's back door.

I fucked her like crazy and she screamed at me to "fuck her arse". Little did she realise that the more she encouraged me, the more I was convinced she was up to something behind my back. I figured that her woman's intuition had warned her that I was suspicious. Now she was trying to prove what a loving wife she was.

Saturday evening we went out for a meal with the children. There are both married and they had their respective spouses with them. We all had a great evening and went on to a night-club for a while. The place was geared up for the youngsters so Stella and I went home about midnight. Once again Stella tried to wear me out. But she was gone to her golf match when I woke up. That Sunday I didn't cook a breakfast.

I got out of the house as soon as I could and made my way out to the club, parking on a hill that overlooks most of the course. I scanned the greens using the telephoto lens on my old 35mm camera. Well, there she was with her four on the seventh green. Just where I'd expected them to be at that time. I sat and watched for the next hour or so. "God, she's as good on a golf course as she is in bed," I thought. Why the hell didn't I ever think of us playing mixed doubles on the weekend? Damn-it, I thought I would talk to the boys about that if my worries proved to be wrong.

On the way home I stopped and grabbed some breakfast in a café and was out the back garden cutting the grass by the time Stella got home. She made a cup of tea and called me in to drink it. Once again I sat and watched her as she began cooking our evening meal. She must have sensed me watching her. She suddenly turned and asked. "Are you all right, love?"

"Fine, why do you ask?"

"I don't know. You seem to have been a bit distant lately."

"Um, I don't think I was very distant from you yesterday or last night."

"No but you've been off all week."

"Busy at work, I suppose. We've got a couple of big projects to finish in the next month or so. I should imagine I'll soon be back into putting in a couple of late nights every week until they're finished."

"Oh, I don't think it's the projects. You'll have the Greenway job sorted with no problem and Paterson's have never given you any trouble in the past. Is anything else upsetting you?"

"I should bloody think so!" I thought. How the hell does Stella know Greenways and Paterson's are the two projects my team it working on? That's supposed to be bloody secret. I've never told Stella the names of the companies we are working for. Not that I hadn't trusted her in the past. It was just confidential information; none of us on the team discuss it with our wives. Well, we are not supposed to. I suddenly thought that maybe someone is discussing work with his lover. Oh, fucking shit!

The little man stopped playing ball again that night and I told Stella I was definitely going to see the doctor this week. All that week I watched the rest of my team very closely trying to work out which one of them it was and later in the week I went out and checked out this Fucking Motolodge place. I found the guy I was looking for surprisingly easily. Looking around all my colleagues there was only one man it could be.

So the next Saturday morning when I ostensibly drove off to my golf game I kept my eyes open and there it was, parked down in a side turning waiting for me to go past. The black BMW with the blacked out windows. I just swung around the block, then parked up and waited. Ten minutes later my old CB radio crackled into life and one of my three spies informed me that they were on the move.

We followed them carefully out to the Asda superstore, where Danny parked the BMW. Stella and he walked over the road to the Motorlodge. I must admit that I couldn't understand them paying for a room in the Motorlodge. Our King-size bed was at home. Perhaps Stella had some conscience about using my bed.

The four of us waited a while until Danny and Stella were out of sight then I went over and unlocked Danny's car. He kept a spare set of keys to his car locked in his office desk. But he worked on my team and I had keys for everything. I released the fuel cap and then I poured four jars of thick honey into the fuel tank then I added two bags of sugar just to make sure. Overkill I know, but I took great satisfaction in the actual doing of it. What ever else happened that Beema was going to be off the road for some time and Danny was going to have one hell of a garage bill. Then I made off towards the Motorlodge with my three golfing buddies as backup. I really think they were there to make sure I didn't get too carried away and finish up doing time for murder or something.

The visit I had made to the Motorlodge during the week had allowed me to have a duplicate key made to the room Danny had booked. Silly of him to put the hotel on his company charge card. I had access to his statements and receipts. Danny always booked the same room because from there he would be able to see his beloved BMW parked in Asda's car park. It had been simple for me to ask for the same room, then slip off and get a duplicate key cut. The only fear I had was that he might recognise my car parked near his. He was bound to check his car the moment he got into the room. But he apparently didn't spot my car.

I quietly unlocked the door and slowly opened it. The layout of the room meant they couldn't see the door from the bed. I'd oiled the hinges and lock on the Thursday. Surprisingly they weren't on the main bed. Stella was kneeling naked on the put you up sofa, with her hand's on the back of it looking out of the window. Danny was standing behind her fucking her doggy fashion. The TV was on with the in-house porno film on it. I think the noise from the TV helped to cover our entrance.

I heard Danny say, "Come on, Stella, please let me? You let him."

"No!" Stella replied "I've told you before only Roger has my arse. If you keep asking, that's the end of it. You won't get anything in the future. I've told you I only do this because you're a friend." (Or did she really mean "fiend"?)

"Come off it, Stella. You come with me to get a decent fuck."

"You've got to be kidding. Roger will outlast you any day."

"Fuck you. I'll show you who can fuaaaaaaahhh"

That's as far as he got as my boot solidly connected with his balls. It kind of took his breath away as he jumped forward. Stella's head banged against the window so hard I thought the glass was going to break. Danny then sort of rolled off of her onto the floor and I landed quite a few kicks and blows before my friends figured Danny had had enough and restrained me.

I saw a sheet fly through the air in Stella's direction and one of my friends said, "Cover yourself, whore!" Stella was staring at me trying to focus her eyes. She was obviously stunned from where her head hit the window. When she finally recognised me, she screamed and burst into tears.

I just turned away, my three friends and myself left the room. As we walked down the corridor several heads appeared from other rooms. Probably alerted by Stella's screams. But no one said anything to us as we left the building.

We went back to our cars and drove away. On the way back to my house, I saw a police car and an ambulance pass me going in the opposite direction with their sirens wailing.

Two hours later a police car pulled up outside and Stella got out of it with a policewoman. They came in the front door and found me sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. Stella just stood there but the policewoman spoke. "Your wife was frightened to come home. She's afraid you might harm her."

Without looking up, I said, "Stella, in our twenty-five years of marriage have I ever lifted a finger to you?"

Stella didn't answer.

"Well, have I?" I asked but a lot more forcefully. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the policewoman's hand move towards her belt where her stick was located.

"No, you've never showed any kind of violence to me," Stella almost whispered.

"When I found you fucking your stud this morning, did I raise my hand to you?"

"No, you didn't touch me."

"Then why should you think I would lay a hand on the woman I love now?"

"Roger, does that mean you are going to forgive me?"

"Not a hope in hell girl. I'm out of here as soon as the boys get back with the van. I saw my solicitor earlier in the week he has already got the ball rolling. I'll let you explain what's happened to the children. See how you can make me finding you in a hotel room being fucked by that arsehole sound like it is all my fault."

Stella collapsed against the policewoman who supported her.

"I think your wife should see a doctor." The officer said.

"The doctor's number is on the board over there. I haven't got time to call him. I think my friends have just arrived with the van."

For the next hour or so I was busy packing and moving my gear. Another police car arrived and most of the time we were working around four police officers some of whom were in the lounge with Stella whilst the other two watched what I was doing and actually helped me carry some stuff out to the van. Surprisingly our own doctor turned up and joined Stella in the lounge. By four o'clock the van was loaded and I led the way to the flat I had rented.

At nine in the evening my son arrived to see me. I can only assume that the police must have given him my new address, since I had had to give it to them. Although they never actually mentioned what I had done to Danny, it was obvious that they knew who was responsible for it so they had asked for my new address.

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