Cheating on a Cheating Wife

I continued on my journey through the Domain Tunnel and onto the Eastern Freeway, glad to be heading this way and not caught in the endless streams of traffic that was driving into the city in the light of dawn.

Turning into my street, I saw Montana and Bailey heading for school. It was unusually early for the girls to be leaving this early, and they were wearing their school tracksuits rather than the standard girls' uniform they normally did. Obviously there must have been some sort of sports event at the school and they were leaving early for this reason.

I waved at the girls as I passed by but they didn't see me, Montana and Bailey completely absorbed in their mobile phones. I smiled to myself. Montana and Bailey may have been girls who liked to wear clothes from the 1990s and early 2000s, but when it came to their phones they were typical Generation Z teens.

Pulling into my driveway, I opened the garage door with the remote and drove in, still thinking about how hot Montana and Bailey looked in their school tracksuits. I would have loved to pull their tracksuit pants down followed by their teen panties and was so absorbed in my fantasies that I nearly drove into Libby's car, fortunately realizing my mistake and slamming on the brakes, reversing back and parking the car correctly this time.

I sighed in relief. Disaster averted by about one coat of paint on my wife's car.

*

For the rest of Wednesday I worked in my study, completed chores Libby had set for me and ate pre-prepared food she had left for me. Of course I did my usual tricks of perving on Montana in her bedroom that night, observing when she went to the toilet or took a shower and as usual hoping the teenager would undress in her illuminated bedroom and I would get to see the young girl in her underwear and her bare breasts, bottom and her pussy. Of course she did not and as usual Montana's pet cat was the only pussy I saw.

Back in the 1980s and 1990s when one had a friend or relative who went away on a trip one would have to wait until they returned to see photographs or home videos, but now one could check out their activities online and on Libby's website there was plenty of content posted by my wife to see on Thursday morning. This was what I was doing in my study rather than working as I should have been.

It was a nice sunny day in Adelaide contrasting with the grey skies over Melbourne this Thursday, and Libby and her squad were out and about in the Rundle Mall. There were six of them counting Libby; three other young women and two guys Todd and Chris, like my wife all models of health and fitness. Unlike with Todd I had no issue with Chris being around my wife for the simple reason he was a homosexual, and quite an effeminate gay at that. If Chris saw Libby's vagina it would be about as erotic for him as seeing her elbow.

I must have sounded like a catty and condescending homosexual myself as I looked at Libby's fitness video recently posted of the squad in Adelaide's Rundle Mall and made sarcastic comments. "I thought there were four pig statues not five," I muttered sarcastically as I noticed Todd standing next to the iconic pig statues found there. A few minutes later Todd was standing next to another iconic sculpture that of the two spheres, often referred to as 'The Malls Balls'.

'Figures that Todd should be standing in front of two enormous balls, he's such a prick,' I mumbled.

Fuck I hated Todd. Every time Todd went away for work with my wife, I fantasized about something bad happening to him. When they went to Sydney, I fantasized about Todd being caught in a rip tide at Bondi Beach, dragged out to sea and drowned or being bitten by a deadly funnel-web spider common in New South Wales. On a trip to Perth in Western Australia -- the only Australian state of territory I had never been to -- I had visions of Todd falling off a ferry from Rottnest Island off the coast and either drowning or ending up as afternoon tea for a shark in the rough waters of the Indian Ocean, maybe even both.

In Darwin when he, Libby and company went up there for a Northern Territory fitness expo they went on a boat trip on a river where the tour operators fed crocodiles that swam up to the boat. I was hoping that a hungry crocodile might want a bigger meal and leap up to grab Todd, pulling him under the muddy river waters, killing him with a series of death rolls and then ripping huge chunks of meat from his body, swallowing them whole. And if not a crocodile, I hoped Todd might anger a water buffalo and finish his days when the aggressive bovine charged, or cross paths with a taipan, one of Australia's most aggressive and venomous snakes.

The city of Adelaide of course had wildlife that could be dangerous like kangaroos, emus and redback spiders, with sharks in the Southern Ocean, but not too different from Melbourne so the chances of Todd meeting his end at the hands of aggressive South Australian fauna would be remote. However, there were plenty of unexplained missing person's cases in Adelaide over the years. Perhaps Todd would simply vanish from the streets of the South Australian capital one day, never to be seen or heard of again? I could only hope so, but it was pretty unrealistic.

I watched more of Libby's vlog where she was talking about how to combine exercise with one's vacation. To that end, she and her team would be cycling from the city to the beachside suburb of Glenelg and trying to beat the tram, then along the coast to historic Port Adelaide, and then back to the city through the suburbs of Woodville and West Torrens, with a final circle around the River Torrens parklands. Much as I disliked Todd, I wished I was going with them as it sounded a whole lot more fun than my day.

Glancing out of the study window, I noticed Montana was in her bedroom. She should have been at school hours ago. Was she sick? I hoped not, although she didn't look unwell, like she was suffering from a cold or stomach virus.

I went outside to get some fresh air, and was soon treated to a wonderful sight. Cycling up the road was young Bailey, a helmet on her head but otherwise her long red hair flowing. She was wearing a long-sleeved white top, a pink baby-doll dress over the top, her feet clad in white ankle socks and white sneakers.

She looked so cute as she brought her bicycle to a halt in the driveway next door, and stepped off. A baby-doll dress might not have been the best attire for a young lady to maintain her dignity while cycling, but young Bailey had an ideal solution, using a safety pin to fasten her dress together at the hem, sort of like she was wearing a 'skort'. My perverted side was a little disappointed as I would have liked to look at the young girl's pants up her dress, but I could not do that, just like I could not sniff the seat of Bailey's bicycle much as I wanted to.

Montana and Bailey were definitely into cycling. Earlier this year their school had a camp where the kids went to Geelong, then cycle through the Bellarine to the Great Ocean Road and the scenic towns on the Surf Coast to the Twelve Apostles and Port Campbell, before cycling back inland through Colac and back to Melbourne via Geelong and Werribee.

Of course, the girls and their friends had to get in practice beforehand, and one sunny Saturday afternoon guess who had carefully arranged to be cycling along the Yarra River cycling tracks and have a chance meeting near Hawthorn? Me of course.

And when the girls went on their week-long school trip, I kept thinking about how lucky the boys were cycling with Montana, Bailey and other hot nubile 18-year-old girls. Did they sniff the girls' bicycle seats to get a scent of teen pussy? Did they get into the girls' bags and sniff their sweaty teen panties? Did they sneak glances of the girls peeing behind trees when they stopped for bathroom breaks? I could never know, but Montana and Bailey both said how much fun it was. Will, Montana's camp-gay father had said he had no idea how his daughter and her BFF had cycled all that way on winding country roads and steep inclines for a week, joking that he if he tried it he would feel like a gay dinosaur afterwards -- a mega-sore-ass.

Bailey removed the safety pin from her dress, took off her helmet and shook out her long red hair, taking off her backpack as Montana met her, the girls wheeling Bailey's bike into the garage and disappearing inside. Neither was sick and I presumed their school had a pupil free day and the friends were studying together.

Not long after, a plumbers van arrived at the house and Montana greeted the two young tradesmen who emerged. They would no doubt have been impressed by the appearance of the beautiful brunette looking so hot in a light-weight blue jumper, a navy blue pleated skirt above her knees, long white socks to just below her knees and white sneakers, a headband holding back her long dark hair.

They would probably have been even more impressed to meet the hot redhead friend looking so cute in her baby-doll dress, white ankle socks and sneakers, although given these clothes were more fashionable two decades in the past maybe the plumbers would have thought they had somehow slipped back in time to the 1990s and were perving on hot teenage girls from yesteryear.

However, I'm not sure how the guys would have felt had they seen the pictures of the brunette's two gay fathers posed with their daughter at various stages of her life, or the pictures of them all having a holiday in Sydney and attending the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. I was fine with it, but some guys maybe not so much.

Returning upstairs to my study I finally set to work, but after an hour and suffering some writers' block went downstairs to clean the bench tops in the kitchen. I was doing just this when the front doorbell rang. I looked through the peep-hole, and had to prevent myself from being overly-excited when I saw who it was.

"Hi Montana," I said, opening the door.

"Hi Jeff," my pretty neighbor responded, her outfit looking so sexy. "How are you?"

"Good thanks," I replied. "How about you? Got the day off school today I see?"

Montana nodded. "Yes that's right. Teachers' staff development meeting, no students today. But Bailey and I have a stack of homework to do, so it's not really a break."

"I remember those days when I was teaching," I said. "I noticed that you have the plumbers there today. I hope everything is okay?"

"Yes, it's just some routine maintenance, replacing some tap washers and the like. My Dad's arranged it so I could let them in when I had the day off school. But the water's off at the moment, so that's why I'm here. Could I please use your toilet? Sorry to interrupt you when you probably have a stack of work to do, but I'm kind of in a 'when you've got to go you've got to go' situation."

I opened the screen door to let the teenager into the house. "Of course Montana and there's no need to apologize," I said. "I'd hardly say no, would I?"

"Thank you so much Jeff, I really appreciate it," said Montana. "So if you just point me in the general direction?"

"Just through there, next to the laundry," I said, pointing in the direction.

Montana turned and headed for the laundry toilet. My casual and friendly demeanor helped mask my excitement and elation at what was going to happen. Montana was going to lift up her pleated skirt, pull her knickers down and sit on the toilet to do personal and private things in my house. I don't know why I was so excited by this especially as I had seen, heard and smelled enough of Libby's toilet habits to last a lifetime. But still, my heart was racing and my undies were getting tight as I followed Montana to the loo, hearing the young girl turn on the light, close and lock the toilet door then put down the toilet seat.

I loitered near the loo, thinking how hot it would be to see Montana sitting on the toilet with her pleated skirt up around her waist and her teen panties down around her ankles, and that she was wearing knee-length socks and sneakers made the mental images hotter.

Soon I could hear the unmistakable tinkling sound of Montana peeing into the toilet, and I listened to every sound of the teenager urinating, her piss stream abating followed by Montana unwinding some toilet paper from the roll to wipe her wet pussy clean of her urine.

I wasn't sure if Montana only needed to pee, but clearly she needed to do more as the toilet door remained closed as Montana remained sitting on the toilet to empty her bowels. I continued loitering close to the laundry for the next five minutes listening to Montana's private toilet noises, the teenager frequently unwinding toilet paper to wipe her bottom. I couldn't work out why I was so turned on by the pretty teenager pooing on the toilet in my house, maybe it was because it was so private and proved that my crush really did poop, or maybe I was just a perve who got his rocks off over listening to young girls while they were on the toilet.

I heard Montana unwinding some more loo roll, then the teenager put down the lid, flushed the toilet, and I heard her spraying toilet freshener around to banish the smells from her poo. Obviously I didn't want Montana to know I had been perving on her while she was pooping any more than I wanted her to know that I had sniffed one of her smelly used sanitary napkins last week, so I quickly made my way to the front entrance of the house.

I got a small jug and was innocently watering some indoor plants when Montana returned after washing her hands. "Thank you so much Jeff, you saved my life," said Montana. "I really needed to go to the toilet, I'm not being a teenage drama queen."

"That's no problem at all Montana," I assured the teenager. "If the water's still off and you or Bailey need to go to the toilet again, just come on over."

"Will do Jeff, so catch you later," said Montana.

"See you later Montana," I said, hoping it was sooner rather than later.

I watched Montana's fine teenage body as she departed down our driveway when I noticed her momentarily lift up her skirt to adjust her white bikini-style panties, her knickers probably riding up when she finished on the toilet and pulled them up.

The brief view of Montana's undies caused my subsiding erection -- when Montana returned from the toilet I had made sure I happened to be carrying a tea-towel to cover my groin -- to rise up again. I went into the toilet and lifted the lid, touching the plastic seat which was warm from Montana's bare bottom having sat on it for so long.

I considered going upstairs to wank off, but decided against it. I was really hoping that Bailey would need to go to the toilet too, and would come over and knock on the door. My erection subsided as I ate the tasteless healthy lunch Libby had left for me, which was some relief as I needed to pee. I washed my plate and was about to go upstairs, when the doorbell rang.

In a sign that wishes sometimes come true, I heard the doorbell ring and answered it to find hot young redhead Bailey standing there. "Jeff, could I please go to the toilet?" the teenager asked.

I smiled. "Of course Bailey, come right in." I let the young girl into the house, and pointed down the corridor. "It's down there in the laundry, second on your left."

"Thanks Jeff, I really appreciate it," said Bailey.

As I had done with Montana when she used the loo, I discretely followed the teenager to the toilet, hearing her turn on the light, close and lock the door and put down the seat, something I had failed to do when I had a piss. I fantasized about Bailey lifting her baby doll dress and pulling her knickers down to her ankles clad in white socks and white sneakers.

Then came the wonderful sound of the teenager having her tinkle, the splashing tinkling sounds of her peeing in the toilet turning me on as much as they had done with Montana. Bailey finished urinating, and I heard her unwinding toilet paper from the roll to wipe the urine from her wet pussy.

As Montana had done, Bailey remained sitting on the toilet for the next five minutes to empty her bowels, me enjoying listening to the young girl's private toilet noises, and like Montana she seemed pretty thorough about wiping her bottom, me hearing her advancing the toilet roll on a number of occasions. All the while my head was filled with images of the pretty young redhead sitting on the loo with her dress hitched up and her knickers around her ankles.

The sound of Bailey flushing the toilet showed she was done, and I heard her putting down the toilet seat as she did so, then spray toilet freshener liberally around the lavatory to mask the smells from her rectum. Maybe Bailey's mother had been using her teenage daughter as a guinea pig for some of the healthy recipes from my wife's cooking book? If so, it was wise of Bailey to use plenty of toilet freshener after her visit to the loo.

Like with Montana, I was away from the vicinity of the laundry and happened to be holding a tea-towel near my groin when Bailey returned after washing her hands. I saw her reach through her baby-doll dress and adjust her knickers through the fabric. "Thanks for letting me use your loo Jeff, we'll try not to disturb you any more when you're probably very busy."

I smiled back at the teenager. "It's not a problem Bailey, as I was saying to Montana earlier if either of you need to go to the toilet while the water is off, just come on over."

"Thanks Jeff, we appreciate it," said Bailey. "But I think the plumbers are close to finishing, so it probably won't be an issue. So, I'd better get back to my study."

I joked around with the girl. "That's right Bailey, you and Montana study hard otherwise I'll come and supervise you."

Bailey laughed her good-natured laugh. "Once a school teacher, always a school teacher, hey Jeff?"

Bailey returned next door and I discretely watched the teenager as she walked up the driveway. The morning in Melbourne had been still, but the weather had turned windy in the afternoon, and to my delight a slight gust of wind got under young Bailey's baby-doll dress.

The dress's floral skirt was lifted, showing me that underneath the teenager was wearing white bikini style panties with pink flowers, a view that lasted only seconds as Bailey hastily pulled her dress down to cover her knickers before going on her way.

As I had done with Montana, I went into the toilet and lifted the lid, touching the plastic seat still warm from Bailey's bare bottom having been sitting on it for some time. My erection went up again as my head was filled with images of Montana and Bailey on the toilet, and I wanted to masturbate but could not in case one or both of the girls got the call of nature again.

However, within half an hour the plumbers next door had finished their work, turned on the water again and departed. This meant the girls wouldn't be returning. I raced upstairs so fast I nearly tripped, my boner showing in the front of my jeans.

Making sure I had plenty of tissues, I extricated two pairs of Libby's dirty knickers from her laundry basket, then lay on the bed, my jeans and undies down, sniffing the smells of Libby's vagina and anus on her panties. As I sniffed the feminine smells deeper into my nose, in my imagination they weren't my wife's knickers but Montana and Bailey's knickers. The feminine stains and associated smells came from their teenage vaginas, not my wife's vagina.

This panty-sniffing fantasy and the fact that Montana and Bailey had both dropped their knickers to use the toilet in this house today was enough to bring a large, intense orgasm as I jerked off hard and fast. My semen sprayed everywhere in the tissues, and as I wiped my dick and recovered from having ejaculated, I looked ruefully at all the sticky white cum. What a waste, all that semen could have fertilized quite a lot of women at a sperm donation clinic!