Life Sucks

Before I begin my story I know from comments made previously regarding other stories, some won't like the lack of personal detail in the characters, so be warned. If I have named anyone, I have deliberately changed their names other than the three main characters. I have left out others' names, failed to identify people to protect them. You'll read why. Only a few know the whole story and they won't speak about it.

Part 1.

Did my life end or start at that party?

That is the question I've been asking myself for the last six days. To some I will be a cuckold as I walked away from the situation when a man would have confronted them. Tell me that to my face and you'll see I'm no cuckold! The only reason, I didn't confront them was that I was in his lair, with his friends and no one to support me. What would you do?

Before I say what happened, let me tell you a little about my life, as it was.

I'm Walter. Don't start! I get enough flack with that name. At offices, everyone thinks I've never heard anyone shouting, "Where Wall-E!" I run my own business, a one-man operation. I install computer systems, from cabling through to the hardware needed. My reputation is such that I have so many requests for my services, I don't need to advertise. Often they have been let down by others who subcontract who also subcontract. As a result, I work away from home a lot. If I can, I commute to the jobs but sometimes it's just too far. For those jobs I have a caravan as I don't like hotels very much. I can work the hours which suit and eat when I like. It also reduces costs.

My wife Amber is lovely. She is about 5'5, slim, pert B cup breasts, slim stomach and a hot pussy. She keeps it trimmed. It does match her reddish blond hair. She has Irish ancestry and on occasions those green eyes show such anger matched only by the venom in her voice. Our lovemaking has matched that intensity many times.

She works in an insurance office specialising in providing solutions for clients, like me, who need non-standard insurance. She's excellent at her job and has been promoted a number of times so now earns a very good salary. About three months ago she was promoted again. I was happy for her. We celebrated and I was glad to go to work for a rest after that weekend. My balls were empty! My tongue and fingers needed splints! As she fingered my bum, I wondered if she was looking for an opening to shove a dildo up my cock to keep it hard. As it was I exploded but there wasn't much. My cock felt like he may never recover within my lifetime. She'd resuscitated him repeatedly. She must have been in the thirties or forties for orgasms. I thought I'd cum fifteen times or maybe more.

A month later, I could see things weren't as good between us. She was short with me and often late home. I don't back down when something needs doing so I made her sit down and tell me why she was treating me like this. She blamed it on her work but her body language was wrong. She didn't like it when I said I didn't believe her. What was going on? Well, that led to an almighty explosion. I don't think my parents would have liked what she said about my ancestry. The bedroom door just about survived being slammed shut in my face.

I was working away the next week and could have commuted but I took my caravan. I worked longer hours so completed the job by mid Thursday morning. I arrived home and began to do my washing. I emptied the bedroom laundry basket. There was nothing there which gave any cause for concern. Only her usual underwear, sensual, not very erotic. There were no unexpected stains. In the five years we had been a couple, three married, she'd always worn sensual lingerie to work but also "come fuck me stuff" when she wanted to make sure I knew what she wanted. My only gripe was how little she would indulge my perversion (her word) by wearing stockings. I loved to eat her out as she stroked her stockings over my head and back. She'd often cum so hard, she flipped me over and rode my iron filled cock to more orgasms. I would lose my eyesight for minutes as I came.

She was surprised I was home when she appeared just before nine pm. Prior to this period, if I was away we'd talk most nights on the phone or video call. She'd often demonstrate what she'd like when I was home. I'd show her what she would be receiving as my cum splattered the camera lens. We hadn't talked in any meaningful way since that blowout.

I'd love to say she apologised and made it up to me but that would be a lie. She was still the ice queen. I spent the Friday in my home office, quoting for new business or ordering the products needed for jobs which had been booked. I couldn't check her emails or phone records as she'd changed her codes. I did likewise. I also removed her access to my business accounts. There was nothing on our joint account to raise alarm bells. They didn't need raised, they were blaring something was massively wrong.

The weekend had me doing the job I just love to hate, the garden! Why did I buy a house? The accountant said it was the time to buy. I had it before we met. This house had a very large plot which included two very large storage sheds for my materials. They were big enough to enable me to have a workshop where I assembled many pieces of hardware or made the connections in a clean environment. It allowed me to work from home to prepare things before I headed to the job site.

The accountant forgot to mention that I'd need to cut the lawns, weed the flower beds and clean the patio. I was always going to get a gardening firm in to do it but I never got round to it. Same with the window cleaning.

The next week's job was just twenty minutes up the road so I was able to load up, work through, head back, load up and repeat. I was home by 5.30-6.00 pm each night. Amber was never home before 8 pm. A couple of times she seemed to have recently showered but when I mentioned that she said she'd been at the gym. Her voice conveyed her anger at my not so subtly implied suggestion. Her tone said I'd smacked a nerve!

I wasn't happy and she knew it. I did recheck our joint bank accounts. We had separate ones from before we were married which we'd kept for convenience. She did "earn" far more than me in theory. The accountant did my books so that I paid as little tax as possible. It meant I had a smaller "salary" but had a "dividend" if the business was flourishing. It was! Dividends being taxed at a lower rate than work related tax. I invested a lot in stock I knew I would need when prices were favourable or when he said, I needed to spend money on the business near the tax date to reduce my tax liabilities. Well, if all the big corporations can use tax havens why can't I use any scheme to benefit me.

Needless to say, sex was never offered. In fact, I had been sleeping in a spare bedroom when home since that big row. I looked at the laws on divorce as I wasn't going to allow this situation to continue. I had no proof and no way of getting proof unless I hired an agency. I suspected if she was having an affair, it would be someone at her work. It had to be linked to that promotion. If they just did it there, could an agency get inside? I'd never know otherwise.

I had had a three-week break lined up for our holiday in three months' time. We had planned my year so I would be free when she had her annual leave. I had tried to speak to her about it but was brushed off time and time again. In the end I sent her a WhatsApp saying, "as she wasn't interested in any holiday with me, I'd just arrange one for myself."

When she came home that evening she was in a foul mood. When I wouldn't back down she became even more aggressive. We argued so much we wouldn't have noticed a meteor landing in the garden. She was highly evasive, blatantly lying, denying anything was wrong with our marriage. Her eyes told how accurate I was when I asked her outright if she was fucking someone else. In the end, I walked out before I hit her - that was how angry I was.

A MAN DOESN'T HIT A WOMAN!

It took me two hours to calm down enough before I could return. She was in her bedroom - I assume.

As usual I was up before her. I left my wedding ring on my office table. It was the first time I had taken it off since we were married. I had reached the end of the line. I had made my decision.

I was surprised to see her home when I came home at night. She looked very worried.

Amber began nervously, "Why have you taken your wedding ring off?"

I laughed, "Do you still consider we are married? You've treated me like shit you've just stepped on for weeks now. You evade answering any question all the time. You should change career and become a politician you're so adept at it! As soon as I point it out, you go nuclear. You no longer love me. I'm not putting up with it anymore. I want a divorce!"

She was shocked, "What do you mean a divorce?"

I smiled, "I thought language skills were your forte. It means I've had enough of your crap, your lies, your deceit. Whatever has killed your love for me it's a tsunami. It's swept you along and you don't care how you treat me. Just weeks ago, we were good, better than good. Ever since that bloody promotion it's got bad, bloody bad so quickly. Was the promotion based on you fucking around? I may hurt for a while but I'll be in a far better place than being abused by you."

She stammered but her anger was clear, "The promotion didn't come with the caveat you're suggesting. I'm not having an affair as you've clearly eluded to on more occasions than I wish to recall. I'm bloody annoyed at you even thinking that. I do love you. It's just work problems and I'm taking it out on you. I know we haven't been close and it's my fault. I need to get my act together."

I raised my eyebrow at that last comment. Her denial lacked conviction.

I could see she wanted to vent her rage on me but recognised I wouldn't back down again. My tone had told her how determined I was this was ending.

She tried to calm down, "Let me try and sort this, please. What I'm doing will be over in a few weeks and we can have time together to repair this split."

I looked at her, "I don't think it can be repaired. You evade what the true cause is. Until you can tell me, we won't move forward. Love me, you haven't shown it for weeks. It's time to be honest with yourself."

Amber was trying not to explode. Through gritted teeth she growled, "If not having sex is driving this, come and fuck me now."

I laughed, "I've got a headache!"

Boy! That did not go down well! So much for not treating me like shit. That didn't last ten minutes.

For the next week she came home at a decent time. She spoke with me about her day, everything was coming into place and she'd have more time for us. She did apologise for her behaviour. She didn't want a divorce. I asked her what was wrong at work but her explanation lacked any credibility. She said this new period would be over in a couple of weeks and she could focus on us, our holiday.

I wasn't buying it and she knew it. We were still not intimate.

On the Friday night she spoke quietly, "Walter, we've been invited to my managing director's home for a celebration over the progress in the last quarter. All the other executives and their wives will be there. It will be good for my career to be seen there with you. You'll see there has been nothing going on. It will help you relax and we can rediscover our love. I've been looking at counsellors to see if that would help as we can't seem to talk without arguing.

"It's next Friday night. The bad news is that's it's a black-tie affair. I know you don't like suits especially penguin suits but it's the circle I'll be working with going forward. We'll be asked to attend a number of these each year."

She was looking at me, almost pleading.

I answered slowly, "I don't know. I'm working a job with a lot of travelling. If I'm to make it, I'd need to use the caravan and work a few extra hours a day. I would be back late Wednesday at best, more likely Thursday. The client won't mind as it will be finished earlier. I don't think I'd have time to look for a penguin suit. Even know where to begin!"

Amber smiled as she answered, "I'll arrange it. You haven't changed sizes in years. We have them on computer for your wedding kilt. Please, I won't scream you're off working away again. I know you're only doing this for me."

I made her work on me for a while before I reluctantly agreed. I really wanted to look those bastards in the eye and see if I could spot which one was fucking her. I just didn't tell her that.

For my job I have a number of invaluable tools. Some have come from customers who produce them. I had two which I felt would be good for the occasion. One which had proved its worth time and time again was a slim wire camera which attaches to my phone. I use it for looking into dark, confined spaces where I wanted to run cables. A far more user-friendly item than it's big brother, a colonoscopy camera. Often it spotted no possible exit routes for the cables so I had to look elsewhere. This saved so much time and effort. I had six, ten and sixteen-feet wires. The second, a set of Bluetooth audio recording cuff links. I could drape my hand away from me and they would pick up conversations. They would record on my phone.

I did finish on the Wednesday so I was able to spend Thursday catching up on outstanding orders and business. Plan days at home to work in my workshop for future jobs.

That night she casually said, "phones aren't allowed." I looked quizzically. She laughed, "He doesn't want any interruptions. It's normal for his parties."

I asked, "Have you been before then?"

She glared at me, "No. I've spoken with others who have been." She knew what I meant but if she exploded I wouldn't go.

As I dressed in my bedroom for the party, I placed my cloned phone in the front of my underpants. I use one as I crawl through buildings. It's much cheaper than breaking an expensive phone which has happened too often. No one would see or feel it. It's tiny compared to my proper phone. I removed the sim card so it wouldn't receive any calls which would alert Amber. The sixteen-foot wire camera I threaded through my trousers' belt loops. With a thirty-six-inch waist it went round five times. My belt would cover it fully. The cummerbund would mask everything as well. Although I wouldn't need money, I kept a card in my pocket for emergencies.

When I looked in the mirror, I saw I looked good. Not a gym rat body but a well-toned and muscled one from working.

I had to wait for Amber as usual. When she came down the stairs, I was amazed. I had never seen anything she was wearing, from the jewellery to the shoes. Alarm bells were no longer ringing. This was the siren for nuclear missiles heading our way.

She was wearing a gown which had been sprayed on. Her breasts were almost falling out. The gown came to her ankle via lightly caressing her bum. There was a long slit which exposed the stocking tops. This wasn't for me. I knew it and she knew I knew it.

I just said, "We do look a handsome couple." That didn't go down well. Normally I'd tell her how beautiful she was. She'd noticed and was breathing quickly trying to control her temper.

She saw the outline of my phone in my jacket pocket. She snarled, "I told you no phones. Leave it here."

I reluctantly took it out. I did add, "Surely you should take yours out of your clutch bag." It was a lucky guess. She's welded to her phone.

She tried to disguise it but she was furious having to leave it with mine.

I was given the honour of driving her in her car. I have my van and an old car which is seldom needed. It wouldn't suit her image. She couldn't drive in those heels.

I tried to make conversation on the way, "So who shall I meet and who do I need to avoid annoying?"

She looked at me sharply, knowing the real question behind it but I kept my eyes on the road. "The house belongs to Simon Brough, our Chief Executive. Don't annoy him. The others are all basically nice, though some are more fixated on promotion and they will use anything against you so don't tell them we're considering counselling. They'll use my marriage troubles against me. Some work procuring so you could pitch your services to them. Just relax and enjoy the evening. You're normally good company but haven't been recently. You need a break from the stress of your work."

I almost added, "I needed a break from the stress of her work" but that wouldn't have gone down well.

Once at the house she took the car keys saying they spoiled my look as she dumped them in her clutch bag. We were greeted by a caterer's assistant who was showing the guests into the reception room. I have to say, the house was well appointed. At least three times bigger than mine. Already in the reception room were five couples as we were shown in. Amber made straight to them but, unsurprisingly, never bothered introducing me. She moved away from me to speak to the one furthest away. I was offered a choice of drinks but asked for a soft drink. I explained I was driving. I can't afford to lose my licence.

Amber heard and came up, she was laughing, "It's alright, we're staying the night. I have an overnight case in the car. You can let your hair down."

I smiled, but my tone said otherwise, "Why am I always the last to know? I'll stick to soft drinks." She glared at me.

As the room filled up I walked around feigning interest in the paintings but mostly so my cufflinks could pick up any information I could use to discover what was going on. I had been approached by several and asked the usual mundane questions. I knew the etiquette so answered and questioned them appropriately.

It appeared everyone was there barring the host. The women had made an effort to impress and the sales of tit tape must be through the roof locally. Our host appeared and explained his wife would not be able to attend as her flight from London to Edinburgh had been cancelled at the last minute. No crew due to Covid apparently. She was disappointed but hoped they would enjoy the evening.

We were escorted to the dining room. The seating was allocated and no one sat with their spouses. I feigned interest in the two women sitting beside me as they struck up conversation with me. I seldom looked at Amber who was predictably sitting next to Brough.

The man opposite me asked what I did. I explained, "I install or upgrade firms computer systems from the cabling to hardware and every nut and bolt needed. I could probably increase your firms productivity by around 30% or more by using the correct cables, not just ones which are handy, update the processors and put you in touch with software sources which would be better than your existent one."

I had to explain in more detail before he understood the difference between a properly installed system and a poorly installed one.

He picked up on one area, he asked, "Why don't you do the software yourself?"

I laughed, "To keep software ahead of the competition and the code safe you need large teams, to build, to secure, to market. I know many of them personally as I've worked for them. It's surprising they know all about software but not so much about the processes needed to actually make it work properly. They can do binary code in their sleep but not understand that code needs to be in a cable which is powered, efficient, clean and connected correctly to a processing unit capable of enabling that code to show up as a programme on your screen. I recommend them and they keep me up to date on what is coming so I can design the systems to use them to their full potential. We're all happy."

He said, "Amber said you just work by yourself, do you not wish to expand?"

I smiled, "I could. It's something I've been spending more thought on recently. I've had firms ask me to consider buying them out. My accountant and I looked at that. There are pros and cons. I'd spend more time stuck in an office. The bonus would have been more time at home. Amber is so seldom home at a reasonable time anymore we wouldn't enjoy being together as much as previously.