Wendy

Wendy was a little angry with me. She said, “It’s going to take you an hour to get there and back.”

“Well I can’t leave it there, I just bought it and it was quite expensive.”

“You better leave now so you can get back in time to eat.”

I said I was sorry and headed for the door.

I had driven about two blocks from the house when I remembered that I had given a ride to another couple from the church to the reception and I moved some things from the back seat of the car into the trunk to make room for I stopped the car and checked the trunk. There sitting on top of some clothes Wendy had brought to change into later was my camera. I slipped the camera into my suit jacket and headed back to the reception.

When I walked into the house. I asked someone if they knew where Wendy was and they said that they thought that the wedding party went off with the photographer to take some pictures. It looked to me as though all of the guests had arrived. The house was full and many more people were milling around in the back yard.

I decided to explore the house while I was waiting for Wendy. It was a large two-story house built in the shape of the letter L. I walked down a hallway off the kitchen and found three small bedrooms and at the end of the hall was a staircase. I went up the stairs to a landing in front of a closed door. I tried the door and it opened into a study. Straight ahead of me was a large roll top desk. To the right there were bookshelves and to the left was another door.

I went to the left and stopped in front of the door for a moment. I felt very strange about what I was doing. On one hand I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, I was just exploring this beautiful home but on the other hand I felt like a spy or a thief sneaking around, invading my host’s privacy. I opened the door as slowly and I heard soft music in the distance. Ahead of me through the door was a short hallway that transitioned into some kind of loft, actually more like a catwalk. The catwalk was about three feet wide with railings on both sides. At the other end of the catwalk was a circular staircase like you might find in a lighthouse. The music I heard was coming from whatever room was below the catwalk.

I knew I should leave but my curiosity was too strong for common sense to overcome, so I moved out of the study into the hallway. I slowly made my way down the hallway until I reached the end of the wall. I looked to the left and could see that the catwalk overlook a bathroom and on the right it overlooked a large bedroom. I was about to step out onto the catwalk when I herd a voice form below. I got down on my hands and knees and stuck my head out past the wall and peeked down into the bedroom.

At first I couldn’t see anyone but then a man came into view and jumped onto the bed and lay down on his back with his head on a pillow. It was Dave, the bride’s brother and he was naked from the waist down and he was sporting an erection. I was debating on whether I should retreat to the study or stay and see what was going to happen when I faintly heard a woman’s voice say, Is this what you wanted?” Just then something white flew into view and landed on Dave’s chest. It was a woman’s panties which Dave picked up and held up to his face. As he smelled the panties he said, “Hurry, I need to feel my cock inside you.”

Then the woman I heard speaking stepped into view. From my vantage point all I could tell was that she was one of the bride’s maids. I could only see the top of her head and that she was wearing a pink dress. As she walked over and stood at the foot of the bed looking at Dave I thought that she looked a little like Wendy but I knew that wasn’t possible.

Then Dave said, “How long have we got?”

“We have about forty-five minutes. It’ll take Jim an hour to get to the church and back and he left about fifteen minutes ago.”

I thought, “Oh my God, it is Wendy. What the hell is she doing?’

I was frozen there. I felt sick to my stomach and I was breaking into a cold sweat. As I watched, Wendy lifted her pink gown up above her knees and climbed onto the bed and walked on her knees over to Dave. Then she lifted the dress higher and moved her left leg over so that she straddled him and then positioned herself directly over his engorged cock. Then she lifted her dress still higher and I watched in total agony as Wendy used her hand to guide Dave’s cock between her labia and slowly lower herself onto it.

I screamed, “NO!” but the only sound was inside my head, as the word did not pass my lips.

Wendy let her dress drop, covering the area of their coupling, and she began moving up and down on his shaft, She said, “Oh God Dave, you feel so good inside me. I can’t tell you how long I have been looking forward to having you inside me again.”

I thought, ‘Again?’ then I almost vomited. I closed my eyes until the nausea passed then looked again at the scene below. My wife, the woman who believed that cheating on a spouse was one of the most immoral things anyone could do, was right below me fucking another man and apparently not for the first time. I wanted to go down there and confront them, but I couldn’t move. I was being humiliated by what she was doing, but I knew confronting them and making a seen would just add to my humiliation, especially if I started shouting, which I knew I would, and drew the attention of other people at the wedding. There could be no graceful retreat from here if I confronted them so I decided to just leave.

I tried but I still couldn’t move. So I continued to watch. There was a skylight in the ceiling, which let a good deal of light into the room so I decided to get a picture of Wendy’s infidelity as evidence. I slipped the camera out of my suit pocket and began taking pictures. I wasn’t worried about Wendy and Dave hearing me over the noise they were making. Finally Wendy had an orgasm and collapsed on top of Dave. I listened carefully for any conversation after Dave climax and noted that Wendy never said, “I love you” to Dave. That was something she always said to me after sex. I don’t know why that mattered to me.

The only thing I heard Wendy say was, “I better get cleaned up before Jim gets back. Wendy got off the bed and went into the bathroom and I crawled backwards till I reached the study. I got up and closed the study door and headed back the way I had come.

In the kitchen several people were standing around one of the counters drinking and eating appetizers. As I walked by them one of the women asked, “Aren’t you Wendy’s husband?”

I didn’t even look back as I answered “Not any more.”

When I got to the car I leaned against the door and vomited. When my stomach was empty I got into the car and sat behind the wheel and cried. When I finally regained my composure a kind of calmness came over me. I decided I needed distance from Wendy so I could think. I started the car and drove back to the hotel. At the hotel I called Delta Airlines and asked when their next flight to Atlanta was leaving and if I could change my ticket to leave on that flight. They said the next flight was leaving in an hour and a half and that I could change my ticket for a $50 charge. I told them to book me on the flight and began packing my clothes. I put Wendy’s return ticket on the dresser and I headed for the airport. By the time I returned the rental car and got to my gate the plane was boarding. Two and a half hours later I was driving home from the Atlanta airport. I had just got onto I85 north when my cell phone rang.

It was Wendy. When I answered she said, “Where are you and what’s taking you so long? You should have been back here hours ago. The reception is over and people are leaving.”

I didn’t feel like talking yet so I just said, “I got sick so I went back to the hotel.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been worried about you.”

“Not so much that it ruined your fun I hope.” I hoped she heard the sarcasm in my voice.

“If you’re not feeling well you better stay at the hotel the hotel and I’ll can get a ride back later. Dave just said he would bring me back to hotel.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of Dave?”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I guess I am still not feeling well.”

“Listen, I know you have to go home tomorrow, but would you mind if I stayed here for a couple more days so I can visit with some friends.”

I said, “Sure, stay as long as you want. As a matter of fact you don’t ever need to come home.” Then I hung up.

With in a minute my phone rang again but I didn’t answer it. It stopped ringing then a minute later the phone went off again, this time indicating that I had a voice mail message. I keyed the phone to get the message. When the message began to play it was Wendy saying, “What did you mean when you said I don’t ever need to come home? Are you mad at me about something? Call me.”

I erased the message and put the phone away. I wondered how long it would take her to figure out I wasn’t in Chicago anymore. Thinking that I was at the hotel not feeling well she wouldn’t be in any hurry to get back, so it could be hours before she found out. Then I had a sudden image of her in bed with Dave while she thinks I am waiting for her at the hotel. I felt my anger building again.

When I got home I poured myself a large glass of bourbon and sat down to think about what I should do. The obvious answer was that we would probably get divorced. The finality of that scared me. I had never considered life without Wendy but now I was faced with that possibility. To avoid divorce I would have to forgive Wendy for what she had done and hope that she still loved me enough to want to stay with me. How could I even consider forgiving her?

My cell phone rang again and again I didn’t answer it. I waited for the voice mail message. “Jim, where are you. I called the hotel and they said you weren’t there. Please call me I am getting worried.”

I thought, ‘Fuck you.’

Then suddenly Wendy’s words came back to me. “It feels so good to have you inside me again.” When the hell did she previously have sex with him? It wasn’t before we were married. She was a virgin when we met. Then I knew. It had to be last year when Wendy went to her high school reunion. That’s why she wanted to stay there a few extra days back then and why she wants to stay a couple more days this time. “Fuck!”

About an hour later the phone in the kitchen rang. I waited until the answering machine picked up to see who was calling. It was Wendy. “Jim, are you there? I am getting scared please call me and let me know if you are all right. If I don’t here from you soon I will have to call the police.”

I didn’t want the police involve in this so I grabbed the phone and said, “I’m here.”

“Jim, what’s going on? You’re scaring the hell out of me. Why did you fly home without me? My friend Julie said that she asked you if you were my husband and you said ‘Not any more.’ What did you mean by that? If something is wrong we need to talk about it.”

I thought, ‘Holly shit. She still hasn’t figured out that I know about her fucking Dave. I had about all I could take of her innocent act.

Wendy said, “Whatever you think I did wrong can be undone.”

“Tell me this Wendy, can you unfuck Dave. And if you could, how many times would you have to unfuck him to make everything all right?”

There was silence on the phone for nearly a minute then Wendy said, “What are you talking about?”

I hung up without answering her.

I called Delta Airlines to check there schedule of flights from Chicago to Atlanta and from that was able to figure out that it was unlikely that Wendy would be able to get a flight back to Atlanta until the following morning, assuming that she would come home at all. That gave me at least until noon the next day to figure out what I was going to do.

I was having a great deal of difficulty thinking and I couldn’t sleep so I went into the study to write a “Go to hell you cheating fucking slut whore’ letter to Wendy. I turned on the computer and while it was booting up I decided I would write a nasty note telling Wendy how I felt about what she had done, then I would leave the note with the pictures on the kitchen table for her to find when she got home. When the computer was ready I downloaded the pictures from my camera and printed them. The first ten pictures were from inside the church during the wedding ceremony. As I looked at these pictures coming out of the printer it struck me that I had taken these pictures less than twelve hours earlier but now it seemed like wedding took place years ago.

The last five pictures were the ones I took of Wendy bouncing up and down on that dickhead’s cock. The odd thing was that looking at the pictures you couldn’t tell what Wendy and Dave were up too. The way Wendy’s dress was spread over them it looked like she was just sitting on him. The only evidence of what they were really doing in the pictures was in my head. In fact if I hadn’t seen Wendy guide Dave’s cock into her pussy I wouldn’t have know what was going on in these pictures. I had to put the pictures aside; they were just too painful to look at anymore.

I sat at the computer for ten minutes and couldn’t think of anyway to put in words what I was feeling so I gave up and checked my e-mail instead. There were only three notes and only one of interest. That one was from Jason Kane asking me to call him on Sunday when I got home from Chicago.

As I closed my mailbox it occurred to me that I should look at Wendy’s mailbox. I had her password because I used to check her e-mail for her but I hadn’t done that for a couple of years.

When I attempted to login the password I had didn’t work. I realized Wendy must have changed her password, but why? Was she trying to keep me from reading her mail? That made me more curious. I looked all over the desk for anywhere she might have written her password without success. Then I opened her briefcase and started searching through the contents. I found her address book and started looking through it. Under ‘D’ I found Dave Dickson. The entry had his address, phone number, and an e-mail address. In the ‘P’ section of the book I found a list of about fifteen eight-character groups that appeared to be passwords.

I started trying the passwords on Wendy’s e-mail account and the seventh one worked. When her mailbox opened I looked in her incoming mail. There was one note from an id named Dicky and it was dated the week before. I opened that note. The heading said From David A. Dickson. The body of the note simply read, “Can’t wait to see you on Friday. Love, Dave.”

Then I went to Wendy’s mail folders and found one named Dicky. When I opened it there were many notes either address to or from Dave’s e-mail address. I started with the oldest note, which was dated last year around the time Wendy returned from her class reunion. It read, “Wendy, How’d things go when you got home? Was your husband at all suspicious? I hope you enjoyed our times together as much as I did. Love, Dave.”

That next note was Wendy’s response. Her note read, “ I didn’t give Jim a chance to be suspicious. Remember the night I called him and he said he was busy and would have to call me back? I started questioning him about what he was doing that night as thought I was suspicious of him. That put him on the defensive. I don’t think he suspects anything. And yes, it was great being with you last week. If I had know it would feel so good to have you inside me I would have let you get in my pants back in high school. W.”

Dave’s next note read, “Reading your note made me think about last Sunday night. When we were parked in the high school parking lot and you sucked my cock and let me cum in your mouth, that was one of the most erotic things that ever happened to me. I had to jerk off while I thought about how wonderful your mouth felt on my cock. You are right. You should have let me have your cherry in high school. Write back soon. Love, Dave.”

Another note from Dave read, “I can’t stand the idea that I don’t have you here to suck my cock for me. You do it so well. I also miss the smell and taste of your pussy. How about mailing me the panties you’re wearing right now. I want to be able to smell your scent in them. Love, Dave

Wendy’s response, “After I read your last note I played with myself until I had an orgasm. Then I soaked up my sex juices with the crotch of my panties, sealed them in a plastic bag and mailed them to you this morning. I hope you enjoy them. W.”

Somehow these notes, while making me angry and upset were also getting me aroused.
I couldn’t believe that Wendy was writing so graphically about sex and that she would actually send Dave her panties. This was very disturbing but also very erotic.

Dave’s next note read, “Got your panties in the mail today. Thanks to the plastic bag the panties were still damp. I held them up to my face while I jerked off. Thank you for sending them to me. Love, Dave.”

The next several notes were more conversational. After going through several notes that had nothing of interest in them I found one from Dave that read, “It’s been three months since we were together and I miss you. I had to jerk off while thinking about pounding my cock into your pussy. Do you still think about having sex with me and how do you handle it? I love you, Dave.”

Wendy responded, “I often think about having you inside me and when I get aroused I have sex with Jim. I think about you quite often so my sex life with Jim is better than it’s been in years. W.”

Dave wrote, “Ouch, that hurts. I have nothing but my memories of you and my hand for relief and you tell me that when you think of me, you fuck your husband. Actually the thought of that makes me horny. When you fuck him do you pretend it’s me you’re fucking? Do you pretend that it’s my big cock that is giving you pleasure instead of Jim’s little pecker? Please tell me more. Your lover, Dave.”

Wendy wrote back, “Dave, Having sex with you is great, but so is having sex with my husband. Thinking of the sex we had together makes me horny which makes me want sex more often than before but it’s Jim that’s inside me and I think only about him when I am having sex with him. And to be honest, Jim’s cock is just slightly bigger than yours. You have to remember this thing between us is only sex. I love my husband. W.”

Dave wrote back, “Why are you so cruel to me? All I want to do is love you and make love to you. Always, Dave.”

It puzzled me that while Dave kept hinting that he was in love with Wendy but she never indicated that she was in love with him. The things she said to him didn’t seem to be the type of thing you expect a woman to say to her lover.

After that last e-mail, the notes became less frequent and the sexual content lessened. That is until Dave wrote, “Great news Wendy. My sister is getting married this summer and I talked her into asking you to be in the wedding. If you can get your husband to stay home again this trip we can have some fun. Love, Dave”

Wendy’s response said, “That’ll be great. We should be able to find some time to be alone together. But, I will have to tell Jim that I want him to come and hope that something comes up to keep him from coming with me. I can’t let him think that I don’t want him with me. That would surely make him suspicious. W.”

Dave’s next note read, “The reception will be at our house. We’ll slip away when your husband isn’t looking and go back to my bedroom. He’d never find us there. I can’t wait to slide my cock into your hot pussy again. I’m getting a hard on just writing this note. Love you, Dave.”

In the rest of the notes Wendy and Dave talked about how they were going to sneak around behind my back and have sex. In one of his notes Dave said, “During the reception I want to take you back to my room and fill your pussy with my hot cum. Then when you go back to your hotel I want you to get your husband to go down on your pussy and suck your creamy pie clean. Do you think you could do that? Love, Dave”