My Cheating Husband Ch. 02

In the morning, I almost forgot Brad was having an affair. Sleep after an extremely emotionally distressing day is pure bliss until reality hits you like a sack of bricks. Then the memories start to run a train on my brain and feel my gut punched. I just wanted to stay in bed for the rest of the day, but it was Friday, unfortunately. Should I call in sick? No, I should probably save them for an important time where I'm really sick. But who says it's not important now? Ah, whatever, hopefully work will take my mind off of things, get away from this house for a while. Besides, I have the weekend. The whole weekend to be stuck with my cheating husband. Yippee.

I rose from the bed and did my morning routine; weigh myself, shower, facial, make up, dress, have breakfast, pack up lunch. I am 158 lbs, being 5'3" meant this was no good-this is 20 lbs heavier than my ideal weight. Brad probably likes thinner, curvier women, not chubbies I sulked, submerging myself in the shower. Afterwards, I didn't feel an incentive to make myself up. No amount of foundation, concealer and eyeliner would make me feel sexy, or mask how shitty I feel. Forget even making lunch, I decided. I'm going to punish myself for being so fat my husband has to sex up hotter, skinnier women.

At work, the catty women's group were all huddled to talk about my lack of makeup and gossiped it was "trouble in paradise." Despite the stinging in my chest, I maintained a face of stone, just wanting the work day to roll by (as painfully slow as it was). Can't decide on who was more pathetic, these women griping on other women from envy and jealousy, or having an adulterous husband.

On Fridays, Blondie is usually called into the boss's office for a "weekly meeting" to assess her performance. She's been here two years, definitely not what I'd call a newbie. Everyone else knows what this means too, even the new guys. In the spur of the moment, I thought about them together. The boss is a well-kept middle aged man. He has voluminous, peppery hair, a square, chiseled jaw covered with a strong, clean cut beard and 'stache, and a seemingly fit body. Must exercise hard on weekends. He also has a wife his age, but obviously dips his dick in girls half his age.

I bit my lip, fantasizing about the boss picking Blondie by her small, princess waist and placing her on his desk. Her short skirt rides up to expose her bare pussy. (Sometimes she gets a little too casual on casual Fridays, and when she bends down, it's hard not to notice). Then, he indulges himself, kissing her pussy and opening her legs more to really taste his forbidden fruit. Blondie hisses at the warm, loving sensation on her vagina, fingers tousling his peppered hair. The boss makes it a point to suck lightly on her clit and she goes a little bit wild, begging to suck his cock again.

"Please, sir, give me your cock," she moans. "I want to taste it again." Like a good girl she normally is for him, and obliges her. Standing up, he unzips his half-hard cock and she jumps down to get to work. She's crouching on her heels, cunt exposed, passionately loving her married boss's cock. Blondie makes love to him with her mouth, giving more attention to the tip sometimes, or swallowing his whole penis, the whole time fondling his balls. She has no gag reflex, and he's guilty free thrusting into her mouth.

Now at full erection, he roughly brings her up by her hair and pushes her against the desk. She climbs on top and he instantly sinks his cock inside. The warmth wetness squeezing on his thick cock elicits a deep moan while locked lips with her. The boss uses the same hand that has his wedding ring on to grab and fondle Blondie's chest. Eventually, he rips open her shirt and exposes her breast to suck on in a fit of arousal.

At this point, Blondie's pussy tightens around her boss's cock, and bit his neck, avoiding making any noises as she's creaming around him. He hisses from the love bite and pulls her up against him, her slender legs crossed behind him and arms tightly wound on his neck. His cock pops out momentarily, red and wet from their passionate lovemaking, as he moves her back against the wall. Blondie must be in a world of bliss having just cum hard on her married boss's thick cock. He takes his rock hard erection and sinks it into her again. Bracing herself, she loudly moans as he effortlessly pounds into her, more closer than ever. He catches her moans with his mouth. The smell of pussy fuels him to the edge, and announces the build up in his balls are about to explode and lets go of her, cock spasming as she's on her knees now, mouth open and catching the flings of cum. Blondie gives one final suck on her boss's penis, cleaning her vaginal juices so later on his wife can do the same, if she even gave him the pleasure. In a final act of love, they embrace each other after their passionate romp to lazily kiss. At least, that's how I imagined it two hours later when she wobbled out with a different, bigger shirt and hair messier than before.

I decided to take my lunch then and there. It was so uncomfortable walking to my car, panties dripping from arousal. For the big finale, I went home, and parked on the other side of the street again. Sneaking to the backyard again, I try and see if he's there with someone else, but the living room is empty. So, I go back to the front and unlock it, gently pushing myself inside. Just like yesterday, the sounds of sweet moaning and kissing travel from upstairs. So much sex happening in a day.

I'm extra careful slinking my way up the stairs. The door is wide open, and I see Brad's ass facing me. He's on top of this girl, her legs propped up on his shoulders. Frankly, reality and common sense escaped me, and this naughty demon took over my body. I see his cock inching inside and out of her while hearing lips smacking and interrupted moans. Sometimes a squelching can be heard. I had this crazy desire to inch up behind them and see in proximity how deep his cock is in this girl. On all fours, I crawled towards the end of the bed, seeing my husband's 9 inch cock slowly gliding in and out of this random girl's pussy. She moans blissfully, and he grunts in response.

Brad moans, "God, I love fucking your pussy so much," and goes in for another kiss. Despite being incredibly aroused by this, it still hurts.

"Mmm I love your cock," she giggles. I hear more lazy, loud pecks. I inch away slowly into the linen closet again, just in time because Brad takes out his cock and cuddles her on the bed, still kissing and making out.

"Fuck, I love kissing you," Brad muses and pecks her lips again. "You're so sexy." Once again, I feel a pang in my chest, but the arousal is stronger. I hear more moans, but they're louder now. There's a lot of panting, whimpers, and squealing coming from the girl. "Fuck, yes, ride my fucking cock you slut!" Brad yelled. I'd never heard this side of Brad before; he was always so sweet and gentle with me in bed as he knew he was my first.

The girl whines, breathlessly repeating, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Brad! Oh!" over and over again. I cover my mouth without even noticing my fingers are rubbing against the most erogenous part of me, stimulating more fluid. I hear them finishing. The creaming and cursing and loud grunts send me over the edge and I'm cumming. Inside a linen closet, only a few feet away from my cheating husband. "Oh, god, Brad, you're so amazing," the girl breathes.

"You're even more amazing," I hear him say. More kissing. "You should probably go, though."

"Scared of being caught?" she teases.

"Eh, little bit," he answers nonchalantly. "Proud of being my sidepiece?" he teased back.

She scoffs, "Maybe. I do like the thought of stealing another woman's man. Makes me feel more confident." Just another dagger in the heart.

"Pfft, with those knockers and that ass, what man could possibly resist," he laughs. More lip smacking. "Mmm, but you should really go. Don't want my wife finding out."

The mystery girl sighs, "Alriiiiight, but I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss you too." I wait until I see the girl walking out, closing the door behind her, and when my husband closes his. That's when I make it back to work, mind muddled with dirty thoughts. But after the fog clears my mind, I think back to how depraved and pathetic my actions were. I know I needed to stop. I know I needed to do something and get my dignity and self-confidence back. This inhumane desire to watch is tearing the rational side of me apart; and yet, it felt so wrong and taboo to watch. But where should I start? I don't want to tell Brad I know he cheated, he'd furiously deny it-probably lawyer up against my back, kick me out to the curb. All the while 9's and 10's servicing him like I'm not watching.

Fighting fire with fire was out of the question; I'm too meek and moral to go out and cheat on my husband, not that I could, anyway. It wouldn't solve anything, and he'd feel vindicated to hire a lawyer. I don't even want to leave him, I still love him despite everything. My heart still belonged to him. Whether it was naive or not, maybe changing myself for him would work. Maybe if I lose weight he'll only have me, I reasoned. Tomorrow, I determined, I'll join the gym and really take care of my body.

Before I even know it, I'm on my way home. The parking lot is empty, so I come in normally. No candles, or strange moaning. Just Brad in the kitchen, and delicious stew cooking. My tummy rumbles, I haven't eaten all day. My husband perks up when he hears the door closing behind me, and acts even more affectionate towards me. It's still blindsides me; the memories kill my hunger. He wraps his arms around me tightly after he pecks me on the cheek. He smells like his regular manly body wash. "Oh, babe, I'm so glad you're home," he muffled into my neck. "I missed you so much yesterday, and we really don't get to interact as we used to." He leans back, warmly smiling at me. It's sickening how I still loved his adorable face. He walks into the kitchen, gesturing to the steam cooker. "I made dinner for the two of us," he announced joyfully.

My stomach genuinely wasn't having it. Despite not eating for the whole day, knowing about his affairs made me lose my appetite. "Oh, thank you so much dear," I giggled forcefully. "But, I'm not really hungry today."

My husband stood there quizzically, trying to figure out if I'm joking or not. "Seriously?" he asked, not even trying to sound dejected. "I worked on this for two hours, babe, and you're not even going to have some?"

Thinking back to how everything in my marriage is a lie, my stomach bunched up, and I curled into myself, wincing in pain. I wanted to throw up. "Sorry, dear, but I'm really not hungry. Maybe tomorrow? I'll eat your stew then" I lied, climbing up the stairs, all the while needles are painfully stabbing my tummy.

I closed the door, and went to the bathroom to start my shower. The night went on peacefully. Brad came upstairs and spooned with me, holding me close to him, and him whispering, "I love you." I pretended I was already sleep.