Independent Women

The predatory couple disappeared from my view into one of the odd storage units that lined the hallway. I heard my wife calling out as a light turned on inside and the door slammed shut. A click locked it, and my first reaction was to pound on the door. Instead, a glimmer of light escaped from the stall next to it and I peeked inside. A thin mattress was laid on a bed frame, barely large enough for two bodies. I saw a quarter-inch round hole, perhaps created for voyeurism, glory, or both, which gave me a view into the room. I was only a few feet away from the mattress in the other room.

My wife was in the corner, fighting mightily to try and escape past Thad. She pushed against his shoulders as he put his hands on her hips, his cock erect and brushing against her exposed pussy as she flailed. She kept hurling obscenities as Sally pleaded with her to calm down. Thad asserted himself by picking my wife up and laying her against the thin mattress. Her shoulders were pressed against Sally, who lodged herself against the wall. My wife kept pressing into him as he lobbied to get his cock into her. Like an obedient imp, Sally lifted my wife's head up and placed it in her lap as she held back her arms by her wrists.

Watching Thad's cock disappear into her from such a short distance was like watching a knife stab into my abdomen. She kept shouting and squirming, but it was clear to me she wasn't going to escape their grasp. There I sat, a knight in shining armor who could save her, and I kept my word to her. I didn't lift a finger.

"No, no! NO!" she shouted as Thad kept pumping. He started laying into her, hard, with his balls slapping into her at a steady pace. There must have been a dozen or so strokes, and each one made my wife's upper body jostle from the pressure. Her tits bandied about as the expression on her face went from restrained terror to a blank, passive expression. Then I saw something I wish I could unsee.

Her face melted into a look of need, as if she was about to cry. Her lower lip trembled a bit.

"Jon!" she cried out. Not as though she wanted me to rush to her, but as if she was lost inside a dark cave and need a light to guide her out. "Jon..." she cried out again, her voice low. Thad looked a little miffed by her desperate emotions. He continued to dutifully invade her, making her hair shake against her chest as sweat glistened over her puffy nipples.

The desperate expression faded. Her eyes melted. After another ten jarring, slapping strokes, she closed her eyes and wrapped her legs around his buttocks. After another ten, Sally let Rachel's hands free, and she made the conscious choice, as a married woman, to hold her new lovers hips as he rammed into her depths. It took forty, maybe fifty, strokes before Thad fucked our marriage out of my wife.

"Just for a little bit," she mumbled to no one in particular. She was reaching her way out of the bargaining stage, telling herself there was still a line she hadn't crossed. This was just a taste, in her reasoning, something worth trying. "Jussforah...ah...bit"

What do you want next? A highlight reel? The next moment that shook me, in the numbing torrent of emotions you feel as you watch your wife blatantly cheat on you, was when the first orgasm started. Her arms and legs simply dropped and her face turned into a silent scream. The only sound that escaped her was this tightly held shrieking. Never in our many years together did she hit such an animalistic, vulnerable state when we were together.

Hmm, the next "high" point on the down slope...probably the kissing. As Rachel laid against Sally, totally mired in sweat, having climaxed as Thad continued to pump away, her lover cradled her tiny head in his hand and manhandled it like a piece of fruit. He started aggressively kissing all around her neck and face, tongue heavy, like a porn star. I felt an inkling that she might resist him here, one last final wall of intimacy she wanted to keep from her "assailant." But, I was wrong. After a brief hesitation, her lips met his, and it wasn't feckless rutting. There was intimacy. Something "real" was between them.

The coup de grace came at the end.

"I'm cummin'" Thad rumbled, "I'm cummin'"

My wife, now soaked with a mat of bangs clinging to her forehead, her tits a shiny red mess, woke a bit from the glow of her second post-climax coma.

"Pull out," she muttered like a drunk, "Not inside."

That picked up his pace, and the sound of his balls slapping into her took on a thunderous tone. He made sure to slow down into gentle, tender strokes before placing a kind hand on her cheek. His forehead met hers, and he forced eye contact. She exhaled as he came inside her, gazing deep into his eyes.

After his grunts and pulsating cock subsided, he sort of leaned back and collected himself as he sat on his knees. My wife tried to utter some kind of protest, but Sally just wiped her forehead like a feverish child, "sssshh"ing her objection to a strange man blowing his cum all over her cervix. In some primordial state, where her protests felt like the neutered grievances of a toddler, Rachel took Sally's direction. She laid, resting, accepting his gift.

Thad made sure to pull out slowly, even shaking the tip before he exited, like a thrifty driver filling up a gas tank. I finally looked away and tried to collect my thoughts. With a hand over my eyes I took ten deep breaths, but didn't feel any calmer. Just a numb, drunk exhaustion washed over me. When I looked back, they were rotating her like a cadaver, preparing her for a session of doggystyle. I had enough.

I exited my "stall", making my way back to the front of the complex, back to my clothes. Kate was sitting there, still enjoying drinks. I somehow managed to make small talk as I put my pants and shirt back on. Retrieving them from my wife's purse made me feel disgust. I was repulsed by anything associated with her.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked. If I had a sane bone in my body, I would have made love to that woman that night.

"Can I get your number?" I asked, handing her my phone as I buttoned up my shirt. She smiled and entered it into my contacts.

"We would love to see you again, hun. Even if it's just for a drink."

I smiled and said goodbye, keeping my composure. I made my way to our car, where I started to cry a bit. In a drunken haze, I passed out.

--

I awoke as the sun started to rise. I heard footsteps on gravel. The sight before me made me wish I'd stayed asleep.

Thirty feet away, Thad, still shirtless, carried my nude wife draped in some kind of blanket to the backseat of his Cadillac SUV. He placed her inside with the care of a loving father not wanting to wake his baby. Cindy didn't bother to observe the proceedings, instead hopping into the front seat as if the entire scene wasn't strange in the slightest. The engine roared to life and they drove off. I'm reasonably sure they didn't see me, nor do I think they would have cared if they did.

When I pulled up to the house, I parked down the street and waited. After a half hour, and tracking my wife's phone using an app, I came to a dreadful conclusion: they weren't done yet. My crude imagination told me my wife was whisked away to his McMansion to take more loads of his cum in between resting and drinks, like a dishrag whore.

I hurried inside and called my mother. I nodded and paid the sitter as I told my mom that we needed to stay with her due to an emergency. As I threw everything I could into duffel bags, I made the smart choice and took my wife's tablet. I deserved to know what the hell was going on.

I dressed my son and drove off. I was terrified she would return before I could make my escape.

--

You can call me brave for just calling it quits with no discussion. For moving on without a word, for knowing my boundaries. The truth is, I just left before I knew anything else. If I knew anything more, I might have ended my life, or someone else's.

When I had moved all the money out of the joint accounts, lawyered up, deleted Facebook, and found my son and I an apartment...the adrenaline finally wore away. After more than three months I hadn't heard a word from my wife. Not a peep.

During our marriage, I eventually knew all of my wife's various passwords, so it was no big task to finally pick up her tablet and start investigating. I just didn't want to look back. I needed to move forward, and I still didn't know if I was ready for what I could potentially find out.

The first glimpse into her hidden world came in the form of a myriad of emails from Sally. They were thousands of words long, telling her about the liberation she'd experienced once she found a path towards full "sexual emancipation." Much like the dinner conversations I had to suffer through sounded like this, but these were far more frank about why she was "ok" with Thad's affair.

"There is no better lover than my husband," she pined, "I don't take possession of him. This misfortune only made me want to share him even more. When he makes love to me, it is pure love, emanating from every part of me. He provides me with every dollar I could ever spend, every security I could ever want. We have more than we need, and I am too unselfish not to share him with other women."

The replies from my wife took this banter way too seriously. It was clear that she was trying to salvage the life of her childhood friend and to bring back to her own interpretation of self respect, trust, and marriage. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, Sally had always been the "alpha" of the two. The arguments and meandering went on for days upon weeks. My wife finally gave up the fight. She let Sally lay it on thick.

A lull passed, more than a month, and Sally started up again. This time, trying to get my wife to watch them make love. My wife was initially disgusted, then feigned intrigue, then cut off the conversation. Then the videos came.

Gigabytes after gigabytes of Thad and Sally making love were on the tablet. The rows upon rows of video thumbnails were jarring to see. In the texting app, texts after texts showed how Sally used my wife catching me watching porn some years ago as a justification for why watching their sex tapes was "no big deal." I combed through the footage and it was almost disturbing how intense Sally's orgasms were. At times, I thought she had passed out after she climaxed. Some videos were uninterrupted at nearly three hours long.

Some of the last few had Thad and Sally, starting into the camera, welcoming my wife.

"Rachel," Thad said, staring at the camera as he pistoned in and out of a moaning Sally, "Rachel come with us on this journey. We have so much to share, so much to show you. Just watch us and open your mind. Emancipate your maidenhood. Do only what you want to do."

I figured I'd made enough of a connection. My wife was bombarded by offers from the couple to share Thad, compromised, and said she would watch them make love so Sally would let the issue go, and tried to factor our marriage into it by bringing me along to a swinger's club. In a sense, she never lied to me, but rather concealed just how deep down a self-deluded rabbit hole Sally had gone, and just how intense Sally's efforts had been to drag her down the same road. She watched, over and over, her closest friend have orgasms and sexual pleasure that never came close to what we had in our marriage. The seed was planted through the propaganda. Thad, the single-minded asshole, pounded through her harsh resistance and hit the mark.

My pain, the deep hurt, came from not one of the three even considering asking me for my permission or participation. Not so much of a hint came from my wife about the two of us sharing or expanding our horizons. I racked my brain trying to find a time when I was condescending or dismissive of her based on her gender, and I couldn't come up with a thing. It was like this woman I had loved went completely apeshit crazy.

There was a pros/cons list in her notes. To me, it read like the words of an insane person trying to justify their madness.

--

Pros

Whatever Sally feels, I feel

Freedom from money

Freedom to travel

Freedom from child born in patriarchal prison

Freedom from Jon's oppressive activities

Be with best friend, for life

Find ways to advance the movement

Experience New Relationship Energy (NRE) as explained on internet

New, experienced lover

Cons

Family, mom/dad will not see me the same way

Jon will be hurt

Will have to let son go, will not be able to mold him into man in feminist image, too late

Reliance on Thad

--

"John will be hurt"....how quaint.

To say I was shocked would be too delicate. Beneath my roof had been a growing militant polygamist feminist, unsure of dipping her toe into a life without me. I never sensed a thing. I questioned myself like you wouldn't believe.

I nearly put it all away when I realized she had a cloud-based home security app installed on the tablet, despite the fact we didn't have one at the house. When I opened the app, I was greeted to 90 days of high-def, color surveillance video....throughout Thad and Sally's home. I could tell their porn videos were shot from the camera in their bedroom, and with twenty cameras, they had excellent coverage of the home. After peeking around and realizing no one was currently home, I hurriedly skipped back to the fateful night when they returned from the club.

Thad carried her in the door and took her to their bedroom. He laid her down, and it appeared Rachel was barely conscious as he gently parted her legs and entered her without ceremony. WIth her eyes barely open he gave her a good five minutes of sex, her only notion of accepting his advance was the occasional gentle massaging of his sides by her exhausted hands. He finished, making sure his cock was inside her to the hilt as he came, and gave her a passionate kiss that she barely responded to She slept for twelve hours.

When she awoke, she bandied about the room, looking around. I imagined she didn't remember or didn't know quite where she was. She showered, then put on one of Thad's long dress shirts since her clothes were nowhere to be found, buttoning only a couple of buttons. I cycled through the cameras until I found her in the kitchen, finishing some food and speaking to Sally. She was crying a bit as she spoke.

"I fucked up," she said, "I have to go home and talk to Jon."

Sally countered with a thousand soothing words. My wife was being copesetic and listening. When Sally paused, she interjected.

"I can at least go to him and chalk this up to the booze. I'm just not 100% about making this decision now..."

Sally continued, telling her that now was the time to break ties, begin her new life, etcetera etcetera. As she yammered on, Thad came up behind my wife, naked. Before she was aware of his presence, he had a hand inside her shirt and was massaging her breast. She sort of shirked and tried to maneuver away from his hands, but soon she was motionless again, accepting it. She continued to talk to Sally as if Thad wasn't present. Her eyes began to glaze as he kept up his advance.

"I have to go..." she said.

He began to rub into her backside, finding his mark. With a flick of his wrists, Thad yanked my wife by the waist and into his cock. It must have been some frat-boy power move he'd learned some years ago... a way to get inside an exposed pussy from behind in one fell swoop before his reluctant lover had time to think. It was almost cartoonish. My wife's tear-stained face contorted as she suddenly found herself filled in a matter of a few seconds. She fell down and laid against the kitchen counter as he pumped into her hard and fast.

"Stop..." she muttered as his balls slapped, "Stop, wait...."

But it was no use. Another handful of strokes and she was reaching back to bring his head to hers for a kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was off to the races. I closed the video.

His tactics worked.

I was nearly ready to close the app when I came upon a "saved videos" tab that had one, newly highlighted entry, dated from only a few days ago. This would have been three months since the fateful night at the club. It was labelled, in all lowercase, "good party" and saved by Thad's username. It wasn't from their home, so I only had access to the single camera from which it was shot. I'm not sure why it was uploaded to the security app, except that Thad must have hurriedly wanted to copy it from another security system onto his own. I tapped it to view.

The video opened to my wife, Sally, Thad, and an older, obese man sitting in an unbelievably well appointed living room wearing swimwear. I imagine they'd returned from some time at the pool. Various other guests seemed to walk nonchalantly in and out of the room, some dressed in swimwear, some not. Sally and Thad made lively conversation with the guest while my wife seemed to stare off into the distance, perturbed. The camera was extremely close to the guest, so every word he said was amplified a bit louder than the rest of the words being said in the room.

"Yo, did I tell you Rachel is down?" Thad said at some point.

He smiled wide, so I imagined the guest returned the favor. "I like that," he said in a low, groveling voice, "I could use an after-pool snack."

Everyone laughed heartily except my wife, who sort of awkwardly smiled and nodded.

Sally leaned in towards my wife, put her hand on her thigh, and whispered something. I had to play the video back a few times before I made out what she said:

"This is what we have to do to take the power back."

She tapped her twice on the thigh and my wife seemed to reluctantly nod.

"Why don't you come say hello to me honey," the man said, "I won't bite."

My wife sort of sauntered over to where he was seated, her body looking svelte in her black bikini with ample cleavage on display. Her legs were long and smooth, barefoot, as extravagant as ever. Her long curly hair laid softly over her chest, belying her trepidatious and almost comatose face. I scrubbed forward in the video as the man gently caressed her ass as they spoke. After some goading, she reached to her back and undid a string. When her top came down, her facial expression recessed and she became more distant. He casually fondled her before she took to her knees and accepted him into her mouth.

From my angle, I only saw the man's hand mash her head into his crotch. I slowed the video down to listen to the audio, and her slurping and sucking was audible. Various partygoers walked by without paying any attention to the felatio my wife was performing. I sped the video back up. She stood up and the man motioned for her to climb on top of him. She seemed to argue, so I slowed the video down again to hear their discussion.

"Come on, don't be shy. You've been friendly so far..."

She squirmed a bit as he kneaded her ass, pulling her closer to him and down towards his erection.

"Thad said you had condoms..." she muttered. I think she was either drunk or deeply disconnected from her surroundings.

"Ssssshh, I don't bite. I'm being very patient..."

He brought down her bikini bottom with an outstretched index finger, drawing it over her pussy as the clothing fell down and around her ankles. He dug his cock out from beneath his bulging gut and sat back, allowing her to reluctantly climb over him. Her legs straddled the footrest of the luxurious leather chair. With no fanfare, she dropped and he entered her. He took a beach towel and covered her hips, hiding their coupling as he slouched back. From my vantage point, I had a pixel-perfect view of the proceedings. I missed the way she smelled and how she touched me, faintly, for a fleeting moment.

"There you go, be a nice girl..." he guttarly moaned as she rode him. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her face blank.