Lost in Purgatory

I wince at the stabbing pain in my chest as I remember the day I proposed to Lisa. I wanted to surprise her and came into Jerry's with two long-stemmed white roses behind my back and her engagement ring in my shirt pocket. I was running a little late, and she was in the kitchen, so I stood at the end of the bar waiting.

She came through the swinging doors with a big tray of food and gave me a questioning look. I think she was wondering why I was late and not sitting at our booth.

I patiently waited as she served the food and then headed toward me with a big smile. I was a little nervous and pulled the roses out too soon.

Lisa stopped a few steps away, set the serving platter on an empty table, and quickly covered her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. Then, before I could say a word, let alone take a knee and get the ring out, she threw her arms out and covered the distance between us in a single bound.

"YES, OH, GOD, Yes-yes-yes, I will marry you, David!" Lisa cried out as she pinned the roses against my chest and hugged me tightly.

We had been an item at the bar for a couple of months, and everyone started cheering. I was sure I heard a sarcastic "Lucky bastard" or three in the commotion, and I certainly couldn't argue that point as I lifted Lisa into a passionate kiss, raising another round of cheers.

I look up at the clock. It's 9:38, and my rocking slows as I wonder how long Lisa has been doing this.

After her divorce from Terry, she started working out at a gym in town, near her apartment. Then a few weeks after we started dating, Lisa moved in and got a membership at the YMCA a few blocks from our home. She has religiously worked out there every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning ever since.

Is that where Lisa met the buff early twenty-something studs, that I'm sure are still fucking my wife's brains out. Has she been doing this for years? I never considered that. Hell, I never considered any of this shit!

"DAMMIT! Think-think-think?" I mutter as I rock faster.

It doesn't make sense. Lisa and I have always had a great sex life. I mean, we are that couple. You know the type. Always holding hands, making eyes, playing footsie, copping a feel when no one is looking. All our friends know it, and whenever we go out with them at some point during the evening, we will hear an exasperated sigh followed by, "Get a room already!"

"FUCK!"

Just this morning, I made Lisa cum so hard she damn near passed out. She was facing away from me, softly snoring, when I woke up with a raging hard-on, about a half-hour before the alarm. I rolled over and started playfully poking it between her thighs just below her ass.

Lisa cooed as she woke and wiggled her butt against me with a lusty little, "Mmmmm!"

I reached over and started lightly brushing my fingertips over her already hard nipples as she trapped my cock between her thighs. She was making her cute chortling little moans as I kept thrusting between her thighs and working her nipples. Then she let loose of my cock, rolled toward me, and we fell into a deep kiss. Our tongues tangled as I cupped her tits and worked her nipples with my thumbs.

Lisa's nipples are very sensitive and directly connected to her pussy, so the slightest touch makes her blueberry-sized clit stand at attention, and her juices flow.

We had been kissing for less than a minute when I felt her urgently grab my left wrist and push downward. I playfully resisted and slowly let her slide my hand down her belly. Then I broke our kiss and began to suck her rock-hard nipples. Her hips writhed in anticipation of my slowly approaching fingers as I rubbed my raging hard-on against her thigh.

My fingers grazed her hood, and she loudly moaned as I slipped my middle finger into her hot pussy without touching her clit. Then she grabbed my head and smashed my face into her tits as I slid my finger from her dripping wet canal up between her lips and began to lightly rub her clit.

She bucked and moaned as I increased the speed and pressure on her clit and greedily sucked her tits until she started pushing on my head. Again, I playfully resisted and slowly kissed my way toward her desperately hot pussy until I reached her belly button. Then I dove on her engorged clit, sucking it and her sopping wet lips into my mouth as I ran my tongue up and down the silky smooth skin between her lips.

Her orgasm was building quickly, and she began to pant as I swirled her clit, and deeply probed her canal with my tongue.

But then, just as Lisa slipped over the edge, that nagging doubt I hadn't felt in days flooded my mind. I had never felt this way before, and I thought I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes as I sprang up, pushed her legs back into her chest, and ruthlessly drove my cock into her cunt as I envisioned her with a lover.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she fitfully convulsed in the throws of her multiple rolling orgasms. She made tiny squeaks with each thrust as I viciously pounded her harder and harder, angrily thinking, "Fuck her!" If she is really going to see her lover tonight, I want her bruised, sore, and thoroughly fucked.

I was out of control as she dug her nails into my ass, and I brutally pounded her until I shot my load with a primal roar!

'THERE, MOTHER FUCKER, TAKE THAT!' I shouted in my head as my rage swirled with my orgasm.

Lisa was writhing and shuttering through the last moments of her endless orgasm when I collapsed onto her. I had no clue if she was actually fucking anyone and felt horribly guilty as she tightly wrapped her arms and legs around me.

"God, I love you," she whispered in my ear, making me feel even worse.

But now, I just feel sick as I wonder how many men have thought, "fuck him!" While Lisa fulfilled all their animal instincts.

Part of me wants to check the computer as I shakily pat Spike's head. But another twisting pain in my chest changes my mind as Spike snuggles tighter against my leg with a sympathetic whine. I know he feels my pain, and I move my hand away, not wanting to stress him any more than I already have.

"Jesus Christ!" I mumble.

What did I do wrong that sent my wife to a bed full of men in a sleazy motel? I just don't get it? We have always been very sexually open and adventurous. I know every inch of her. I know just how to make her really hot and cum like a freight train.

We both love role-playing, and she really loves it when we play The plumber. I even bought her a real "Dallas Cowboys" cheerleader uniform, and it's been worth every penny.

We have spent countless hours in bed cuddling and coming up with naughty fun things to try, and I thought I knew all of her fantasies. But she has never even hinted at wanting sex with other men: let alone a gangbang.

It's 10:24, and I will have to call Lisa soon. Tell her not to come home. Tell her it's over.

My fingers dig into my knees as I roll my head back and around, trying to relieve the tension in my shoulders.

"What the FUCK! Come-on, DAVE, Think dammit," I mutter through gritted teeth.

I have to figure this out. I know I'm missing something. Lisa has always loved my cock, and has a hard time leaving it alone. Hell, she gets a thrill out of teasing me and getting me hard in places she really shouldn't.

It's not like I have lost my passion, and I'm certainly not lacking in any way with 8+inches and thicker than she can wrap her hand around. I didn't see anything bigger in her motel room. So, I'm guessing she's not a size queen.

"It's over... I don't care what she's doing anymore," I mumble to myself as the demons in my head whisper, 'bet the fucking whore has six or eight guys doing her by now.'

I lurch out of the loveseat, and Spike dives for his dog bed as I march to the computer with deep indignation driving me. I want to see the fucking whore and cement my resolve to cast her out of my life. But in my earlier disgust, I didn't close the lid all the way. I open the laptop, and my throat tightens as I stare at Spike, belly-up, snoozing on his bed.

It's our screensaver photo album.

Then the next random picture appears, and my wave of indignant fury fades to painful loss. It's Lisa huddled with a bunch of smiling kids at Danny's grade school. I feel a sense of pride surge up and challenge my resolve as the lump in my throat twists harder.

Since Danny was nine, Lisa has been a volunteer reading tutor from noon to three every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and all the kids really love her.

The next random picture is our tenth anniversary. Lisa is holding two long-stemmed white roses surrounded by ten red ones. She is very sentimental, and her tearful, deep loving smile is more than I can take.

The overwhelming sadness causes every muscle in my body to contort, constricting my throat and pinching my eyes tightly closed as my tears flow.

I think back to our first anniversary. I gave Lisa two white roses with one red one, starting our tradition. She cried tears of joy as she carefully put them in a vase, knowing what the red rose meant before I told her.

"I love you so much," Lisa said.

Then she turned, jumped up, and wrapped her arms and legs around me. I held her tight as we kissed passionately. But then she broke our kiss and leaned back with a pouty look.

"Does this mean the honeymoon is over?" Lisa asked.

"I sure hope not," I replied, starting another tradition as I pulled Lisa back into an even more passionate kiss.

We have repeated those words every anniversary since, and we have always felt like the honeymoon never ended. Well, at least I did. I'm not sure when it ended for Lisa?

I wipe the tears from my face and see Shellie, Susie, Tom, and Tommy on the screen. Shellie is holding three-month-old little Susie in her arms, and they all look so happy.

Suddenly I wish Tom was better at holding his water, and I was still that happy. Hell, I would be sleeping in our loveseat with the TV on and Spike curled up in my lap. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that my wife was getting her brains fucked out like a... "CHEAP WHORE!" I yell into the silence of our empty house.

The demons in my head are fighting like rabid dogs as I hold my shaking hand over the mouse: not sure I want to know. But I can't stand the swirling thoughts any longer, touch the mouse, and stare at the screen, not really believing what I'm seeing.

I know when Lisa is in the mood to get really nasty, she will clean out and be all-in for some mind-blowing anal, and she has obviously cleaned out for tonight.

She is laying back on the biggest guy there, getting gonzo fucked in the ass while one of the other young men holds her legs high and wide as he drills her cunt from above. A third guy has her head tipped back, making her air-tight with deep throat stretching thrusts while the fourth rapidly rubs her clit, bringing Lisa to another orgasm as he strokes his cock and waits his turn.

I watch the guy fucking her throat pull out, move up to her shoulder, and grunt out obscenities as he shoots his load all over her tits.

Her high pitch moans are chattering with their relentless pounding as the fourth guy steps in for his turn. Then her moans become muffled as he makes her air-tight.

I feel the urge to heave again as I slowly close the lid, knowing that she is in the throes of an orgasmic run-away train and won't stop cumming until they blow their loads and the relentless pounding stops.

"GOD-DAMMIT! How could she do this to me?" I scream and mutter like a mad man.

I know we're through, and I will never be able to forgive her as I aimlessly pace around the kitchen. But she is so intertwined in my life, and I can't think of anything I do that's not connected to her in some way. Finally, I slowly shuffle back into the living room, feeling like I've been beat-down by those young men in her motel room.

I know I will never be with her again, and a deep sense of loss claws at my soul as I drop onto our loveseat, curl over my knees and begin to weep as if Lisa has died.

Spike slips off his bed, wanting to know why his daddy is crying as he stretches up to kiss away my tears. I wouldn't have the heart to tell him if I could as I put on a brave face and ruffle his ears.

Then Spike jumps onto the loveseat, curls against my leg, and nuzzles my hand. I slowly pet his head as I begin to rock, wishing I could turn back the clock. Wishing that when Gary called me at work today, it was to tell me everything was fine, and I had nothing to worry about.

It was a little after two, and I was surprised to hear from Gary because I couldn't point to anything wrong or off with Lisa. But when he asked me to meet him at his office after I got off work, I could tell by his tone, I was not going to like what he had to say.

I pressed him for details, but he insisted on talking in person. I was too nerved-up to work, so I told Gary I would be there by three. I had much more than a pang in the pit of my stomach as I drove to his office.

We shook hands, and I took a seat as he closed the door. Then Gary got right to it and said up to this point, he had been doing this off the books as a favor to me. But if I wanted to pursue the matter, he would have to make it an official investigation, so any evidence he gathered would hold up in court.

"Whoa... Back up a minute. What are you saying? What evidence? What did she do?" I asked.

Gary told me he didn't have any evidence he could use. That's why he didn't call me last week. Then Gary explained that he put a GPS tracker on Lisa's car, not really expecting to find anything. But last Thursday, after he got home late from a surveillance job, he checked the GPS data. It showed Lisa leaving Shellie's a little after seven-thirty and going to a motel.

He could tell I was pretty shaken, and he wouldn't tell me what motel it was. He didn't want me to go off half-cocked and do something stupid.

"I'm sorry, Dave. This is the part of my job I hate. But now it's up to you. I can't do anything unless you want me to. I'm really sorry, man. I know this is hard," he said solemnly.

I was gobsmacked and could only nod.

"All right. I'll start the paperwork. And I'll give you the friends and family discount," Gary said, trying to break the tension.

I finally choked out, "Look, money's not a problem. Just tell me; tell me what you know. I have to know. Please, Gary!"

"Look, I know how you feel. But I really don't know anything for sure, and I've learned the hard way not to speculate. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, I understand. Just tell me already."

Gary told me he got to the motel around a quarter after eleven and found her car parked around back where it couldn't be seen from the road. He knew Lisa would be leaving soon if she was supposedly getting home from Shellie's by midnight. So he parked in a dark area of the lot and waited.

She came out alone just before eleven-thirty, and it struck him as odd because the lights went out just before she stepped out of the room.

After she left, Gary waited for about 15 minutes to see who else came out. Then he went up, knocked on the door, and confirmed no one else was in the room.

Gary said he had a hunch and went to chat with the desk clerk.

He showed the clerk a picture of Lisa and saw the recognition on his face. But the clerk played dumb until Gary showed him his private investigator credentials, and a C-note fell out of his wallet. Then the clerk got real chatty and told Gary he had only been working there since the first week of April and admitted that Lisa had been getting a room every Thursday around eight p.m. since he started.

Then the clerk told Gary Lisa always got the same room for sixty-five and change and paid in cash with a nice tip. He said she would slip him at least eighty and sometimes a hundred with a wink and say, "I was never here. Right!"

I stop petting Spike and rock a little faster as my guts churn with my new understanding of what; eighty and sometimes a hundred means.

The clerk said he made sure her favorite room was available on Thursdays. Then Gary pressed him for the receipts and the clerk admitted to pocketing the money. So there was no record of Lisa being there. Gary told the clerk she probably wouldn't be back after next Thursday and slipped him another C-note to make sure her favorite room was available and to keep his mouth shut.

Then Gary surprised me and said he called Tom right after our first meeting.

Gary said Tom wasn't too surprised by his call and admitted that he'd had a bad feeling about things for a while. But he didn't want to jump to conclusions and start any trouble. Then Gary asked him about the babysitting arrangements. As far as Tom knew, Lisa was picking Susie up from pre-school and watching the kids until around 7:30.p.m. Then Pam would take over and watch the kids until he got home from work, about 11:30.

Gary told me Tom had no idea what was going on or what to say to me at the party. Tom told Gary he hadn't talked to Shellie about it yet and had promised Gary that he wouldn't say anything until this was sorted out.

I was reeling from the implications of what Gary told me as the fact that Lisa had been cheating on me for more than four months; sank in.

"Look... Dave, I know how hard this is, and I know you're not stupid. That's why I really didn't want to tell you any of this until I had proof."

My head was spinning, and my ears were ringing as I sputtered out, "P--proof?"

"Okay, this is how it works. Now that you are my client, I can legally investigate Lisa's activities. That means we can use the GPS data because your name is on the car loan, and I can set up cameras in the motel room. Legally, in this state, we can't use the video or sound as evidence in court. However, we can use stills from the footage; if it comes to that," he said.

Then Gary told me he'd made a deal with the clerk. He wouldn't tell his boss about pocketing the money if the clerk let him in the room for about an hour later this afternoon.

I was fuming and wanted nothing more than to kill whomever my wife was seeing, assuming it was just one man.

"Okay, set up the damn cameras. I want to know who this SON-OF-A-BITCH IS, AND I WANT A LINK TO THE FEEDS!" I yelled.

"Calm down, Dave!" Gary said, then looked confused and asked, "The feeds? What are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath and let my rage fade to fury.

"The feeds from the cameras, Gary. I have to see it for myself," I replied as calmly as I could muster.

Gary grimaced. "Look. I've been doing this a long time, and I know how you feel. But you really don't want to do that. Just let me record everything. I'll have it on a thumb drive and backed up on a secure server. Then, if there's anything on the footage, we can get you a good lawyer and work it out in court."

I just could not believe Lisa would do this to me, and I had to see it with my own eyes.

"Gary... I have signed the papers, so you're working for me, and I'm telling you, I want the feeds. Or I will just follow her and see for myself, DAMMIT!"

Gary realized he had already said too much and put himself on the spot.

"Alright-alright... Technically you're right. I'll text you the link," he said with a grave look, "Dammit, Dave! I really wish you would reconsider."

Gary was genuinely concerned, and deep down, I knew he was right.

"Just send me the link Gary. I have to see it for myself, or I won't be able to wrap my head around it and move on."

When I left his office, I was racking my brain, trying to figure out how long my wife had actually been having an affair. But the more I connected the dots, the more everything I believed about our life together was being ripped to shreds.