tagLoving WivesLost in Purgatory

Lost in Purgatory


Author notes. This story is completely fictional and is in a word, "Dark!" There is no happy ending, and if you are not a 'true literary masochist' you probably won't like it. If you are a literary masochist and chose to read my story, enjoy the angst!

Lost in Purgatory.

I assume since you're still reading, you have read my disclaimer and decided to read my story. But before you proceed, please take a moment to get into the correct state of mind!

First; Conjure-up the theme music from, Rod Serling's, 'The Twilight Zone' and his iconic voice! Got it... You may proceed.

"You are about to spend an evening in the mind of a man who has just been broadsided by life, enter at your own risk!"


I reach out to close our laptop, my hand trembling, my heart ripped out and shattered, every nerve ending in my body on fire with the rage that is overcoming my complete despair. Slowly I close the laptop and push myself up from the kitchen stool feeling like I might spontaneously combust as I head down the hall to get my gun!

In my adrenaline-fueled rage, I have a clear vision of what I'm going to do to the two young men that, only ten minutes ago, walked into my wife's motel room. I see them groveling and naked, begging for their lives as I tell them, "I hope it's the best fuck you ever had! It's sure as hell gonna be your last!"

I enter our bedroom and quickly move to the bed, reaching into the hidden compartment in the headboard to grab my '45-auto.' I turn with purpose and head back down the hall, the weight of cold steel in my hand easing my anguish.

In my vision, my 'loving wife' is backing across the motel bed screaming in horror as she stares at the two lifeless men, and when she backs into the headboard and looks up to see the 'cold dead look' in my eyes. I see the terror in her eyes as I put a hole where the heartless bitch's heart is supposed to be.

My task is clear in my head as I enter the kitchen on my way out to my truck, but I can't walk past the computer. I know what I saw! I know it's been going on for weeks, and I could tell by the way she was talking to them, it wasn't her first time. I reach out and slowly open the laptop to see the screen that is split into four live feeds, one for each camera Gary installed. Gary is an old friend from high school. He's been running a private investigation firm going on fifteen years now, and I sure as hell never thought I would have to ask him to check up on my wife!

I look at the 'lamp' camera and see my wife on her hands and knees, getting railed from behind, while the other guy has two hands full of her hair, thrusting his cock deep into her throat. I look closer at the 'smoke alarm' wide-angle camera and see two more buff young men peeling out of their clothes and four twenties on the dresser now! Gary told me Lisa has been paying cash for the room and that would more than cover next week!

"SON OF A BITCH!" I slam the butt of my gun hard on the counter, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a black and tan blur speeding away from me. My heart that was ripped from my chest and shattered, not fifteen minutes earlier, breaks all over again as I turn to see Spike cowering on his dog bed. Spike is our ten-year-old Dachshund, and we love him like a child. I know how sensitive he is and he has never seen me this angry. Then somehow forgetting about my plan to kill her, I find myself thinking, at least he will be happy to see his 'mommy!' Spike has no idea she is a cheating slut.

A deep sadness comes over me as I think of the countless times Lisa has come through our door and stooped down to get a kiss from her 'baby boy.'

Now my heart is breaking for a whole other reason as I think of Danny, Lisa's son. He was eight when I Married his mother fourteen years ago. Her first husband, Terry, who was not Danny's father either, did not treat them good. It took some time for Danny to warm up to me, and me to him to honest, but I have come to love him as if he were my own son. Danny has grown into a hard-working, good-hearted young man and is engaged to be married this fall. A sharp painful lump pushes up my throat knowing I won't be there for him, and I'm hoping our divorce doesn't ruin his plans.

I feel the rage building again as I remember that my first wife, Linda, was a cheating slut too, but with only one man at a time as far as I knew. I look back at the computer to see the other two have joined in and Lisa looks 'happy as a pig in shit!' My adrenal glands now spent, I feel only ill and a deep loathing sadness as I look to the ceiling with tears flowing from my eyes, "WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO WRONG!" I hear the dog door flap and see that Spike has hightailed it outside, only compounding my sadness.

I aimlessly pace around the kitchen thinking about how all this started eleven days ago. Lisa and I were going to her little sister Shellie's for a barbeque to celebrate Memorial Day. It was Sunday, forecast high in the low eighties, not a cloud in sight. I was happy 'as a pig in shit' myself and taking on the world with the love of my life, my soulmate, as far as I knew. I had never doubted for a moment that we would be together until the bitter end. My wife Lisa is thirty-nine, and Shellie her only sibling is thirty-two. No one has ever said it out loud, but I have always had the impression that Shellie was an accident, albeit a Happy one!

On our twenty minute drive to the barbeque, I was enjoying the feel of Lisa's little hand interlaced with mine. It's just second nature for us. I am a big man, six foot three, and at forty-two I'm a solid 220. I lift weights for a living, I've been a brick mason for more than twenty-four years. Most people find me intimidating at first, but soon figure out I'm just a big teddy bear at heart.

We were only five minutes away when I heard Shellie's ringtone on Lisa's phone. Lisa gave my hand a squeeze as she reached into her purse to get her phone. We were running..., a little late!

"Hey sis, what's up?" Lisa asked knowing why she called. I couldn't make out Shellie's voice, but Lisa gave me a big eye roll as she listened. Lisa squeezed my hand again, and I caught her naughty grin as she replied, "Well..., something came up!"

This time I could plainly hear Shellie's reply, "Jesus, do you two ever get out of bed?"

Lisa laughed saying, "We're almost there. Love you, sis!" Shellie replied in kind, and Lisa hung up.

Shellie and Tom smiled and waved when we come through the backyard gate. There must have been at least twenty people there with a dozen or more kids in the pool. Little Susie, Lisa's four-year-old niece was practically screeching, "Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave!" as she came running and latched onto my leg, hugging me tightly.

Tommy, Lisa's seven-year-old nephew, came running wet from the pool saying, "Hey Unc," as we exchanged our usual fist bump. Lisa and Shellie have always been very close, so Susie and Tommy see aunt Lisa all the time, but I hadn't seen them since Christmas.

I reached down as Susie stretched her arms up, giggling with anticipation of our 'ritual.' I quickly lifted her and tossed her high into the air as she squealed with delight. After several tosses, I set Susie down, and Lisa hugged them and lovingly patted their heads before they ran off to play with their friends. My wife gave my hand one last squeeze and blew me a kiss as she headed off to mingle with the ladies. I wandered over by Tom at the grill and grabbed a beer from the cooler.

Tom grinned asking, "How's it hanging Dave?" with a smart ass tone, knowing why we were late.

Tom and Shellie have been married for almost ten years and have always seemed very happy. I noticed the deep dark circles under Tom's eyes, but I wrote it off to his new second shift job and Shellie's big promotion about three months ago. Tom works maintenance at a local auto parts factory, and Shellie works for a big computer software company. Shellie's promotion was a nice bump in salary, but I wasn't so sure it was really a promotion. It seemed like the job no one else wanted. She was jetting around the country doing software upgrade seminars every Friday at companies that used their software.

I'm vaguely aware of the gun in my hand as I pace and wave my arms around mumbling to myself like a 'MADMAN' recalling the moment things all started to unravel. I was shooting the shit with Tom while he flipped the burgers and rolled the hot dogs around on the grill. I knew Shellie was doing Friday seminars and leaving right from work on Thursdays to catch a plane, and Tom usually gets home from work around eleven pm.

I casually mentioned that I was getting a lot done around the house on Thursday evenings and was glad that Lisa could help out by babysitting until Tom got home from work. Tom was taking a swig of beer and almost choked. I sympathetically slapped his back a couple of times, and after he caught his breath, he quickly sputtered out a few insincere platitudes. "Ya..., yeah, she's been a big help, and we really appreciate it."

That was the first time in our almost fifteen years I had felt a pang of doubt about Lisa. Tom seemed like a man 'caught between a rock and a hard spot,' and I had just leaned on the 'rock.' I decided to not press it saying, "I'm getting pretty hungry," and headed for the deck to grab a plate and go sit with my wife.

I wasn't really sure of anything at that point and found myself trying to explain it away. I looked over the impressive buffet and started filling my plate as I glanced in my wife's direction. She was grinning and crooked her finger at me with a naughty 'come hither' gesture. I reflexively smiled back and finished loading my plate. When I sat next to Lisa, she lovingly stroked my arm, and I was pretty sure I had somehow misread things.

But I couldn't let it go, and by Tuesday I was having lunch with Gary. Gary wasn't a close friend, but he knew Lisa and me well enough, and he knew how much we loved each other. He almost laughed, and I felt pretty silly when I told him what set off my 'alarm bell.' Gary told me he had seen this kind of thing more often than you might expect, and I probably had misread things, but he would check up on her personally just to set my mind at ease.

I stop pacing and turn to the computer as a familiar sound catches my ear. I know I've heard it at least a thousand times before. I look at the live feeds and see three out of the four showing different angles of the same scene. I touch the icon to bring the lamp camera to full screen. The HD picture and crystal clear sound is almost overwhelming, and I feel much more than a pang as my stomach twists hard and pushes into my throat. Lisa is still on her hands and knees getting 'spit-roasted,' and from this POV I see her thigh shaking as she pulls the cock out of her mouth and demandingly howls, "FUCK ME HARDER!"

I feel the tears flowing down my face, but I can't look away! The guy fucking her from behind is obviously getting close and slamming her for all he's worth. She takes the cock back into her mouth muffling the moans of her building orgasm as he deeply fucks her throat. One guy has slid under her and is greedily groping and sucking her perfect thirty-four C tits. Opposite the camera, the last one is kneeling beside her and forcing her deeper onto the cock in her mouth with a hand full of her shoulder-length auburn hair while he rapidly rubs her clit with his other hand.

I feel my guts roil as she goes over the edge while the guy fucking her from behind simultaneously thrusts and bucks unloading his seed. I see the bed sheet darken as she begins squirting with his last few hard pumps while the guy fucking her face begins grunting out obscenities and dumping his cum deep into her throat. She is having one of her long rolling orgasms as they pull out their bareback cocks and she collapses onto the bed still shaking and moaning.

I set my gun down as my legs instinctively lurch me toward the kitchen sink. The unbearable twisting pain doubles me over as the bile races up my throat, and I violently hurl into the sink, losing the few bites of dinner I was able to eat. I continue to heave with nothing more to give until my retching relents, and flip the faucet on to wash away the remains, still doubled over in the sink, my stomach clenching with a vengeance.

I lift my head out of the sink far enough to see the screen. It's like watching a 'Cougar gangbang porno.' The guys are giving each other high fives and grunting out crude approvals of how hard they made my wife cum as I hang my head and cup water into my mouth to wash away the burning putrid taste. Strangely, somehow it complements the utter despair clawing at my soul. I push myself up, my stomach muscles still knotted and twitching, only to see Lisa roll onto her back and grab a cock in each hand with cum running from the corner of her mouth and a dreamlike lustful look on her face, 'that I know so well,' as she asks, "Who's up for sloppy seconds?"

I close the laptop and grab my gun knowing deep down I could never hurt Lisa and would have run out of steam long before I got to the motel. I have never raised a hand to her, and I can count on one hand how many times I've raised my voice in an argument. Hell, and how can I blame those young guys. I know in my early twenties before I married Linda if a hot cougar like Lisa would have told me, "All the pussy you can handle for the price of a room," I'da been all over that!

I start pacing, gripped by the hard twisting lump in my throat that seems to be sucking the life out of me, knowing I will never be able to look her in the face again without those images flashing through my brain. I glance at the clock, it's 8:41 pm. Lisa knows I don't expect her home much before eleven-thirty, and it's about a thirty-minute drive. She has plenty of time for sloppy 'seconds, thirds and fourths.'

"FUCK-FUCK-FUCK! I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Only vaguely aware of the gun in my hand as I shake my fists up at the God that I'm pretty sure doesn't exist anymore. I know it's over for Lisa and I as I pace around the living room searching every nook and cranny of my memory, trying to figure out what I missed, trying to figure out what I did wrong, trying to figure out what's wrong with 'ME!'

My knees are getting weak as I plop onto our loveseat and set my gun on the coffee table. A flood of painfully wonderful memories overcomes me as I think of all the times we sat here, just holding hands with our faithful baby boy, Spike, wedged in between us. I hunch forward and start rocking, feeling like my head is going to explode as I think of all the times we've necked groped and had wild sex in this very spot.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Spike wearily peeking his head through the dog door. A sharp surge of anguish causes my neck to tense and my shoulders to pinch. After a moment I manage to pat my knee, and Spike tentatively pushes through the flap with his tail wagging at half-mast, ever hopeful, as he wearily comes to me. Spike stops in front of our loveseat and looks at me expectantly as I muster a painful smile and he jumps up sniffing his mommy's spot before curling up against my leg with a sigh. I want to pet him, but I can't pull my hands from my knees, and I can't stop rocking as I flashback to the day I met Lisa almost fifteen years ago.

It was a Wednesday, around seven o'clock, and I had gone to Jerry's Bar and Grill to get a beer and some dinner. I had been divorced from Linda for about three months, and I didn't feel like eating alone again. I was still pretty raw and hadn't even considered getting back out there, 'as they say.' I slipped into a booth and looked up to see Lisa coming to take my order. The waitresses at Jerry's wear low cut white blouses and short black skirts, and I was mesmerized as she walked to the booth. She had a genuinely happy smile on her pretty face and moved with a natural feminine grace.

"What would you like to drink... Big Guy!" she asked sweetly as she set the menu down.

I was lost in her pretty brown eyes as I finally choked out, "I-I'll have a bottle of Bud," but as she leaned in closer, I couldn't help but notice her perfect cleavage!

"Do you know what you want to eat..., or do you need a moment?" she asked with some definite innuendo.

I cleared my throat, "I might need a moment..., or two," I replied with some definite innuendo of my own and managed a timid smile.

"Okay, I'll be right back with your beer," she said as her face lit up with a big smile!

I watched her walk away, and feminine would not begin to describe the way her hips were moving as she made her way to the bar, and looked over her shoulder with a little smirk of a smile to see if I was watching. I was definitely watching her, five-foot-four, tight shapely body move! I found out she had just started that day and I started eating at Jerry's almost every night.

Still rocking with my stomach twisting like a pile of snakes I remember the night I finally asked Lisa out. I went to Jerry's for dinner and of course to see Lisa. It had been two weeks since we met and I was still a little gun shy from my divorce, but I really liked her, and I knew Lisa liked me too. Whenever she had a few minutes she would come to my booth to talk, and a few times I caught a sad edge in her smile as we talked, but Lisa struck me as a wise old soul, and I got the feeling she had gained some of her wisdom the hard way.

That evening Lisa took my order and brought me a beer, and when she set it down her hand slid over mine as she said, "I know you're a big tough guy, but I've known from the moment we met you are a gentle soul." I was speechless as she squeezed my hand with a caring smile and then went back to work. Later that night I got up the nerve and asked Lisa to go dancing. She had Saturday night free and gave me her number and address.

I picked her up at eight, and we went out to a nice club, but we hardly danced at all and spent most the night talking. By the end of the night, we were finishing each other's sentences and having to decide who would finish when we both spoke in unison. I knew from that night I would spend the rest of my life with her!

I wince at the stabbing pain that comes as I remember the day I proposed to Lisa. I think she knew, but I wanted to surprise her. She was at work, and I came into Jerry's with my right arm behind my back holding two long-stemmed white roses. She was in the kitchen, and I waited at the end of the bar. When she came through the swinging doors with a big tray of food and drinks in her arms. I smiled at her, and she gave me a questioning look because I was running late and not at our booth. I patiently waited for her to serve her table and when she finished she headed toward me with a big smile.

I was a little nervous and pulled the roses out before she got to me. She stopped in her tracks a few steps away as her hands quickly covered her mouth. I saw the tears welling in her eyes as she threw her arms out and covered the distance between us in a single bound. She hugged me tightly pinning the roses between us as she cried out, "YES! OH GOD! Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you!" before I could say a word, let alone take a knee and get the ring out. We had been an item at the bar for a couple of months, and the regulars all started cheering. I was pretty sure I heard a sarcastic, "Lucky bastard," or three in the commotion, but I couldn't argue that point and lifted her into a passionate kiss raising another round of cheers.

I look at the clock, it's 9:18, and my rocking slows as my next thought gives me pause. Now I'm wondering just how long she's been doing this. I know she started going to the gym after her divorce from Terry, and when she moved in, a few weeks after we started dating she quit the gym and started working out at the Y.M.C.A a few blocks from our home. She has religiously gone every Monday, Wednesday and Friday since then. I think about the buff early twenty-something studs who I'm sure are still fucking my wife's brains out. Did she pick them up at the Y, and has she been doing this for years? I had never considered that. Hell, I hadn't considered any of this SHIT!

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