Belinda's Story Ch. 01

That was our first mind-blowing simultaneous orgasm. It was my fourth orgasm for the night. I had doubled my previous record. I thought, "I'm a multi-orgasmic woman." I giggled inside like the little girl that I really was. I realized that my pussy was going to be sore. He had made me sore before.

Bobby tried to go to sleep, but I didn't let him. After resting for fifteen minutes or so, I got up to go into the bathroom. I took the time to take my first look around the place. This apartment wasn't as nice as what I was used to. Bobby had only been living here for a few days and this was my first time to be here. I know his mother. She would have come here and cleaned everything while he was moving in. It looked to me as if nothing had been cleaned since. This was the first bad side of Bobby that I had ever noticed. I realized that he was spoiled rotten and was going to require a lot of training.

The place was very old. I would guess the neighborhood was eighty years of age or more. The building was wood framed with wooden siding. It was a three-room and a bath apartment built over a freestanding garage. It was at the end of a driveway and behind a house that would have been considered a medium-sized mansion when it was new. The apartment could be the old servant's quarters.

We had entered from an exterior stair. As far as I could see, that was the only way in or out. I thought, "This is a poor design. It would be very inconvenient during bad weather or if you were carrying a load like a small child. It would be dangerous if there was a fire or if the steps were wet and slippery."

The optimist and the realist in me took over. I knew that Bobby was working in a collision repair shop and was making about twenty dollars an hour. I wasn't working, but I would start looking for a job right away. I couldn't expect to make half what Bobby was. This apartment was probably all we could afford right now.

I caught myself smiling as I thought about living here with Bobby all the time. I started thinking about what a woman's touch could do to brighten and dress the place up. I became so excited.

I took the small bag I had brought and went into the bathroom. It was a mess too. I gritted my teeth and did what I came in here to do. I tinkled and douched myself. I scrubbed my face at the sink and then turned on the shower. The water pipes vibrated and made a loud knocking sound, but they settled down after a few seconds.

I went back out into the bedroom and dragged Bobby out of bed. We showered together. That was a first-time experience too. Bobby tried to fuck me, but I put him off until later. We later made a habit of showering together and we fucked and sucked each other some of the time after we learned how to do it without getting hurt.

Bobby's mother had stocked the refrigerator and the pantry, evidently. They were both full of things that I knew Bobby wouldn't have thought of. The kitchen sink was another disappointment. It was full of dirty dishes.

Bobby found some paper plates and I made sandwiches for us. I also found Cokes and potato chips. We ate like the teenagers that we were.

The next crisis that we encountered was the bed. In the light, I could see that the sheets and pillowcases were nasty. I told Bobby that we had to change them. Bobby had only moved in officially two days ago, but he must have been sleeping here for a week or more. The sheets looked like he had come directly from his work and gone to bed without a shower. I thought, "More training will be in order."

He said, "I don't think I have another set of sheets."

I replied, "Then we are going to have to wash these, or you are going to have to take me home. I'm not getting back in that bed as it is." He looked at me like an errant puppy that had just been slapped with a rolled-up newspaper. I asked, "Is there a washer and dryer here?"

He answered, "Yes, they are downstairs in the garage, but I don't know if they work or not."

I pondered the problem for another moment. I said, "Bobby, your mother didn't let you move in here without an extra set of sheets. Let's find them." We found two sets. Problem solved.

We spent our first night together in our apartment. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then, but if we could be young again, I would happily move back into that cheap apartment with Bobby. Bobby got everything working and helped me repaint the place. I decorated it with colorful curtains and drapes. We hung cheap art on the walls some of which I produced myself. We made the apartment look nicer than it really was. We were very happy there. I had both our babies while we lived there.

XXXXX

I want to skip along now and get to the point of this story.

Bobby worked his job at the collision center for two years after our marriage and he took several business courses at a local junior college. Then he took a chance. He rented space in a commercial/industrial center and set up his own shop. He furnished and equipped the place with borrowed money. Both my father and his cosigned a note for him. He hired two young men that he had worked with before. The three of them worked very hard and made the new business work. Bobby paid off his note over the next two years.

Bobby had twelve employees by that time and work kept coming in as his reputation for quality work spread. He had the opportunity to sign a contract with one of the big auto insurance companies and that insured a constant stream of work. He bought four acres of land at the edge of town and built a fifteen thousand square foot metal building. He set up a big shop. This was all done with borrowed money too, but he didn't need a cosigner this time.

Bobby promoted one of his original employees to manage the old shop and he ran the new one himself. Both shops made money. The big one made a lot of money. Bobby was naturally frugal. He kept his taxes paid and used most of his profits to retire his note at an accelerated rate.

We bought our first house. It was a three-bedroom two-bath with a two-car attached garage. It was a tract house in a suburb and wasn't anything special. To us and after the apartment it was a palace. I was able to quit work and stay home with the kids. Our oldest was four-and-a-half.

Another two years passed and Bobby set up another big shop in a town about twenty-five miles away from us. He commuted to run that shop while it went through its birthing pains.

After another year, Bobby bought the big house for me. It was built to our specifications. We had an architect and everything. It was on a site that was part of a country club development. Membership to the club was part of the deal and figured into the financial arrangements. That's what rich folks were doing then.

The downside to this was our sex life became less important than it had been. We were both busy all the time. Truthfully, we had tried everything that we wanted to try and there is no way that the spark of new love can last for ten years. Bobby and I took each other for granted, and deep inside we were probably a little bored with each other.

In our tenth year, Bobby fucked-up. In fact, he fucked-up twice. He had a short affair with a cute little blonde trollop and then he let me find out about it.

The kids were nine and seven years of age then. They were both playing in our pool and Bobby was sitting at the garden table keeping tabs on them. I was watching through the kitchen window. I was nursing my first rum and coke of the day, as I completed some minor task that I don't even remember now. We both used alcohol, but neither of us abused it. I rarely had more than two or three drinks in a day, and I didn't drink at all most days. Bobby had a little more, but he is twice my size by weight. I had never seen him drunk.

He was talking on his cell phone. I decided to take him and the kids some lemonade. I put a pitcher and four glasses on a tray and carried it out to them. If Bobby wanted booze, he would tell me. I walked up behind him without being noticed.

My whole world changed right then. Too many things happened at once. I heard him say, "Okay, Sweetheart, I will meet you at Paco's at eleven-thirty on Wednesday. I promise to fuck you silly and you can be home before five."

Sarah, our baby girl, screamed. She had fallen on the stairs leading down into the shallow end of the pool. Bobby dropped his phone in the grass and ran to her.

I looked at my baby as I sat the lemonade on the table. She was already getting up and she wasn't crying. She had just scared herself. I had seen this happen in the past.

I picked up the phone and put it to my ear. A woman was saying, "Bobby, Bobby, are you there, are you all right?" I could almost recognize the voice but not quite. I had heard it before. I looked at the call back number and it burned itself into my memory. I laid the phone back down in the grass without hanging up and went to my baby. Of course, she was okay.

Her daddy hugged her and straightened her water wings. She was back splashing and chasing her brother, Robert Jr., in less than a minute.

Bobby stood up and put his arm around me. I replayed in my mind what I had heard him say. He had made a date for eleven-thirty at Paco's on Wednesday. He had promised to fuck her silly. Somehow, I maintained my composure. I said, "Sarah is okay. I brought you guys some lemonade."

He called the kids out of the pool and we all walked back to the table together. Bobby retrieved his phone and ended his call under his breath. I poured for them and sat with them in the shade for just a minute before I made an excuse to go back into the house. I was in shock.

I called my big sister. While her phone was ringing, I thought back to the time when she had been the first person I called when I found out I was pregnant when I shouldn't have been. She was only two years older than I was, but she had always been my person of choice to help me with my problems. She was always honest, never laughed at me, and always made right whatever was wrong. I could trust her.

She picked up and said, "Hello."

I said, "It's me, Big Sister. I have a problem."

She replied with a question, "Why do you never call me unless you have a problem?" She was trying to make light of whatever was on my mind.

I answered, "This is way serious, Jean. Bobby is cheating on me." She was quiet. I said, "You know what I mean. He has a fucking girlfriend and he's fucking her."

After another moment of quiet, Jean finally spoke. She asked, "Is this a fact or some silly assed suspicion that you have dreamed up?"

I said, "It's weird that you used the word, silly. I just heard him promise to fuck her silly and have her home by five on Wednesday. Wednesday is the day after tomorrow."

Jean said, "Make an excuse to get out of the house and come to me."

I said, "I can be there in half an hour." Then I added, "This is your cell phone. I assume you are at home."

She replied, "I am at home and I am alone."

I went out to Bobby and I didn't lie to him. That seemed important for some reason. I asked him if he could watch the kids for a while and keep them from killing each other.

He laughed and asked, "What's up?"

I said, "I just talked to my sister. She asked me to come to her house. She wants to discuss a problem with me."

He chuckled and shook his head. He said, "Call me if you are going to be late. I can order pizza and feed the kids if you need me to."

I said, "It's already four o'clock. You should plan on doing that." I had to force myself a little, but I kissed his cheek and said, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

I crawled into my Lexus RX 350 that Bobby had bought for me on Mother's Day. It was the nicest car I had ever owned and Bobby said that it was the world's best soccer mom car. I thought, "He will buy me a car like this and then stick his dick in that whore." I went to meet Jean. I had maintained my composure so far, but I broke down and cried as I drove. I pulled up in front of her house twenty minutes later. I had pretty well dried up and regained my composure by then.

Jean hugged me and then asked, "Are you okay?"

I just said, "No." She offered me a drink, which I turned down. I said, "I had a shot of rum earlier. I probably should keep a clear head."

She said, "Good girl. Now, tell me what you know." I told her. She fished a pen and a scrap of paper out of her purse along with her cell phone. She said, "The first thing we need to do is identify the bitch. Write the number down for me." I did so. Jean waved her phone at me and said, "If she has caller ID, she won't recognize my name or my number. Maybe she will tell us who she is."

Jean set the phone to speaker and dialed the number. The cunt picked up. She said, "Starr Equipment, Debbie speaking. How may I help you?"

I held up my hand and said in an almost silent whisper, "I know who she is."

Slurring her voice a bit, Jean said, "Oh, I am so sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number. I must be a bit tipsy." She hung up before Debbie could reply. Jean looked up at me and asked, "Well, who is she?"

I answered, "Oh hell, she is one seriously cute little piece of blonde and blue fluff. She is in her mid twenties, built like the proverbial brick shit house, and always dressed to the nines. She is a salesperson that calls on Bobby. I can't remember what she is pushing, but it is probably high-dollar equipment if she works for Starr. She might be trading her pussy for a big commission on a lot of machinery.

Jean said, "We should be detectives."

I couldn't make myself laugh, but the world did look a little brighter to me. I said, "I know one other thing about her too. She is married."

Jean laughed this time. She said, "Oh, that's g-o-o-o-d." A moment later, Jean asked, "What do you think we should do?"

I answered without hesitation, "I want to kill them both, and I want to do it before Wednesday."

With the most sincere look on her face and without hesitation, Jean said, "You can kill the fluff if you want to. Hell, I'll help you. If she is as pretty as you say, I hate her anyway." Then she said, "Let's don't kill Bobby though. I kind of like him and I know you do too." Then she said, "After all, boys will be boys. We shouldn't really be that angry with him."

I looked at her, tilted my head, and shouted, "Are you out of your fuckin' mind? Boys will be boys? He is fucking his slut girlfriend. We shouldn't be too angry?"

She answered, "Take a minute and listen to me. I've been through this. I want you to benefit from what I learned."

I replied, "You were cheated on by a boyfriend. I've been married to Bobby for ten years and we have two children. It's not the same thing."

She said, "That is exactly correct. That's why what you do is so vastly more important than what I chose to do. I just threw the bastard out and moved on to the next man in line. Do you think that is the thing for you to do?" She paused and asked, "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

I refused.

She said relax as much as you can and answer these questions truthfully for me.

I nodded.

She asked, "Do you want to give up your husband to this tart?"

I hesitated, but then shook my head to indicate, "No."

She asked, "Do you want your kids to grow up without their father?"

I replied verbally, "No."

She asked, "Do you want to live the rest of your life without Bobby in your bed at night?"

I said, "No," again.

She said, "This is the last question and it is most important." After a pregnant pause, she asked, "Do you and Bobby still love each other?"

I single tear rolled out of one of my eyes. I had to answer, "Yes."

Jean smiled at me and said, "We can't kill him. Can we?"

I almost whispered my answer, "No, we can't kill him. I love him and I want him back, but I can't just let this pass. He has to be punished. He has to be punished severely enough that he doesn't make a habit of this sort of bullshit." A moment passed. I asked, "What can I do?"

We spent the next two hours plotting my upcoming moves on the chessboard of life. By the time I left to go home, my big sister had convinced me that we had chosen the proper course of action. My babies weren't going to lose their father.

The first thing I had to do to execute my plan was to keep Bobby from suspecting that I knew anything. That would be very difficult. Jean had helped. The deep hurt and the shock that I had felt earlier had been soothed and put on a back burner somewhat. I knew that I would have to contend with those things later. Now was the time for fight or flight. I was going to fight.

I was coherent now. I was experiencing more anger than anything. I had never considered myself to be a vengeful person and I didn't feel like I needed vengeance right now. I wasn't going to harm or kill anyone. I was going to end my husband's affair and take him home to his children. I would punish him severely, but after the crisis was over. I would suffer through my hurt, but after the crisis was over.

XXXXX

Wednesday came.

I was familiar with Paco's. It was a small mom-and-pop Mexican restaurant in a small strip mall about twenty minutes from the house. Their food was extremely good. It was one of Bobby's favorite places, but then he was more into Mexican food than I was. We used their take-out service often whenever Bobby talked the kids into Mexican food at home. I drove up and parked right in front of the place and right beside Bobby's truck. I assumed that Debbie's car was there too, but I didn't know what she drove. It was eleven-forty-five.

Jean was at my house with the kids. She had taken the day off from work saying that she wouldn't miss this show for anything. She wanted to come with me and bring the kids for effect, but I vetoed that notion. It would have been too much. My babies will never be used as weapons.

I walked in the front door. Bobby had his back to me, but Debbie looked up and saw me. Her eyes got very big.

I thought, "This is perfect." I smiled and winked at Debbie as I snuck up on Bobby. Debbie relaxed some and Bobby's whole body stiffened when I put my hands over his eyes from behind. I said, "Guess who."

It was his turn to experience shock and he showed it for just a second. He regained control quickly and asked, "What are you doing here?"

I laughed and said, "Your young son ordered tacos for lunch. When he says tacos, he means Paco's tacos." I explained that the kids were with Jean.

Bobby tried to introduce me to Debbie. I held up my hand and said, "I remember Debbie." I smiled and said, "I met you and your husband at Bobby's grand opening party for the new shop. Your company supplied equipment. Didn't it?"

Bobby Rose from his seat and pulled out a chair for me. I sat and Bobby motioned for Paco to come to us. I ordered a dozen tacos to go. Paco knew to make half of them pork and the other half chicken.

I got a serious look on my face and said, "Hey, explain this to me. Why are you having a lunch date with such a pretty girl?"

He was back in control of himself. He smiled and replied, "She heard a rumor that I was going to build a third big shop. She is trying to convince me to buy some more of that crappy overpriced equipment that she peddles." He chuckled.

I looked over at Debbie and said, "Girl, you really are far too pretty for your own good. You might not be safe in this neighborhood." She really was pretty and she knew it. She became noticeably more relaxed. I let my pause extend for another few seconds while she smiled at me and then glanced at Bobby. I asked her, "Has Bobby fucked you in the ass yet? He really enjoys that kind of action, you know."

Everything seemed to slow down and the whole world was quiet. Bobby's chair slid away from the table. I think that he thought he was going to have to restrain me.