tagLoving WivesMy Wife Went Where? With Whom?

My Wife Went Where? With Whom?

byEphesus14©

Not as much sex as some of you like. Not as much BTB as others want. More narrative than still others can tolerate. And more detail than necessary. Still, it is what it is and some of you may even enjoy it.

My wife went where? With whom? ----And I wasn't supposed to find out about it!

The living room had three. The kitchen two. Guest bedroom two. Master bedroom five. A total of twelve and that didn't include the office or the bathrooms. Twelve small lights which told me the TV's were on standby mode, or the modem was on, or the smoke alarm was working. Twelve lights giving the status of various appliances the modern home seems to think it needs on a daily basis; but as I walked through my house at two in the morning, the twelve lights were unable to tell me where my wife was.

My name is Walker. Seth Walker. First Lieutenant Seth Walker, United States Army; graduate of Penn State University and their Army ROTC Program. I was Commissioned a Second Lieutenant, entered on active duty, and was stationed at Aberdeen Proving Grounds (APG), Maryland.

I met Christine (Chris) Wetzel when we were sophomores at Penn State. We dated for the rest of our time there, and married just before moving to Maryland. We were at APG for three years before I was sent to Korea and completed five months of the normal 12 month tour there. Korea was a 'hardship tour' which meant Chris could not accompany me. My parents bought a house for us in Bel Air, Maryland, when we were first assigned to APG and Chris continued living there while I was in Korea. That way she could keep her job at the County Board of Education.

Less than 36 hours before I was counting lights in my house, I was in Korea where I was notified by The Red Cross that my parents had been injured in a three car crash near their home in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. My father is a Veterinarian and my mother is a researcher at the US Army War College. I was born in Carlisle and lived there until I moved to Happy Valley (State College, Pennsylvania, home of Penn State). I graduated from Cumberland Valley High School in Carlisle. We called it Cow Valley instead of Cumberland Valley because of the cows that used to graze in the fields surrounding the school.

After I was notified of the accident, The Red Cross helped me arrange for a 30 day emergency leave and a flight home. I chose to fly into Baltimore because it was only about an hour from our home in Bel Air. Chris could pick me up and we would drive up to Carlisle.

I tried to call Chris from Korea, then San Francisco, and again from Baltimore. She never answered so I left messages. I got a ride with the Airport Shuttle service after landing in Baltimore and arrived home after midnight.

After walking through the house, I checked the garage and both cars were there, but I noticed that my Jeep Wrangler was dirty.

My jeep was rarely dirty. I wasn't fanatical about it, but I tried to keep it clean. It being dirty surprised me because Chris hated it and refused to drive it. She didn't even like riding in it so I expected it to be covered with five months' of dust with a dead battery.

I went to the key rack in the kitchen to get keys. The Wrangler started immediately. I glanced around the inside of it and although it wasn't 'trashed', it certainly wasn't as clean as I left it.

I walked through the house for the who knows how many-ith (I know there is no such word, but I'm using it anyway) time and started counting lights.

Naturally, I was concerned about my wife, but my parents were in hospital and I needed to get to them.I hadn't taken a shower since before leaving Korea, so I took one. Nothing seemed right in the bathroom. There were razors which were not my brand, tubes of a toothpaste brand I didn't recognize, and a cheap drugstore cologne I would never use. When I opened my underwear drawer in the bedroom, I was hit with another surprise. I don't wear Hanes and I don't wear blue, black or red briefs; and my t-shirts are not vee necked but that was all that was in there. I walked naked to the closet. When I looked at my clothing, I didn't recognize anything that was hanging there. I tried on a pair of slacks and they were too small. Same with a shirt I tried on. I went to the bag I brought with me from Korea, dug out some underwear and a relatively unwrinkled uniform. Just what in blue blazes was happening? My wife was gone, and not only were my clothes missing, but different male clothing was hanging in their place.

I tried calling her again. No luck so I wrote a note bringing her up to speed and left it on the kitchen counter.

Back in the garage, I loaded the bag I brought with me into the Jeep and headed for Carlisle. Less than three hours later, I was at the hospital. Both of my parents were pretty heavily sedated so not aware that I was there. I checked with the staff and was told that they should recover completely even tho their injuries were relatively serious.

It was then almost six AM, so I sat in a chair in my mother's room and fell asleep. It was almost noon when I awoke. I again talked to their medical team, and was told that I could stay as long as I liked, but they were going to be in and out of consciousness for at least the next 36 hours and would most likely not know if I was there.

Nothing I could do in Carlisle, so I headed back to Bel Air. The sun was bright and I had forgotten my sunglasses so I looked through my Jeep to see if I left a pair in it. I found some, but they weren't mine. I would never have sunglasses with shiny silver reflective lenses. In the glove compartment, I also found several pieces of mail addressed to someone named Andrew Allison.

When I got home, the note I wrote for Chris was where I left it and it was obvious that she had not been there.

I went to the office and sorted through Andrew Allison's mail. He was behind in payments to three credit card companies and a mortgage company. I also found out that his bi-weekly paycheck from the County Detention Center went directly to the bank and that his checking account balance was $37.84. His savings account had $82.27.

The growl from my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten in some time. Bacon, eggs and hash browns has always been my 'go to' meal so I started to fix it. I didn't get far because the refrigerator had neither eggs nor bacon. It didn't have much of anything else, either.

Likewise, there was no bread for toast and no potatoes for hash browns. I found a frozen lasagna dinner in the freezer so ate that.

I tried several more times to call Chris but my calls went straight to voicemail. Calls to her sister had the same results.

I thought again about my clothes. I went back to the bedroom and, again, looked through the closet. Nothing had changed. None of my clothes were there. I went through all the drawers in the dresser. In her underwear drawer I saw some videos. I picked them up and looked at the hand written label on the top one. 'More Fun'.

I walked through the house again. She couldn't have just gotten rid of my clothes, so I looked for them. They were in the closet in the guest bedroom.

The house phone rang. The answering machine picked up on the first ring.

"This is Delta Airlines and this message is for Mrs. Christine Walker. There has been a change in your flight on the 27th. It's scheduled departure is now three PM. We apologize for any inconvenience."

Flight? My mind was now completely bumfuddled, which is a great deal worse than befuddled. At this point, I went back to the office and started looking around. Chris was organized. She made lists, kept notes, and created a folder for anything that had more than two pieces of paper pertaining to it. There was a folder on a shelf above the desk. The label on the folder said Cruise. Inside the folder was the itinerary for a 14 Day Caribbean cruise. The cruise documents were for Christine Walker and Andrew Allison and included their cabin number. Paper clipped to the cruise itinerary in typical Christine fashion, was a flight schedule. It confirmed what the phone message just said ... that there was a flight scheduled ... except the ETD on the itinerary was 2:15PM. It was flight 2507 from Ft. Lauderdale to Baltimore on the 27th. That was 10 days away. And like the cruise itinerary, it listed both Christine Walker and Andrew Allison. That meant they had already been on the cruise for four days.

I looked through our credit card files and discovered that the cruise and airline tickets had been paid for by me.

I sat for what felt like a long time. My wife was on a 14 day Caribbean Cruise with someone named Andrew Allison. Who the hell was this guy?

I decided to take a drive over to the address on Mr. Allison's mail and have a look around.

I rang the bell.

"May I help you?" Asked the woman who opened the door.

"I'm not sure."

"That doesn't make sense." Slight pause. "Why are you driving Andrew's car?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why are you driving my husband's car?"

Perplexed, I answered. "I'm not. I'm driving my car."

"Sorry. It looks just like my husband's."

"Speaking of your husband, is he here?"

"No."

"Can you tell me when he will be back?"

"Never. He doesn't live here anymore."

"Do you know where he lives now?"

"No idea where, but he lives with his girlfriend. Why? You another debt collector?"

"No. I'm a husband in search of a wife."

"Well, stick around a couple of months and I know one who will be available."

I almost grinned. "I have one, I just can't find her."

I could almost see the bulb light up above her head.

"Oh...could it be that your missing wife might be with my asshole husband?"

"It appears that way."

"Why don't you come in and let's chat."

We sat in her living room and talked. It seems I filled in some blanks for her and vice versa. They had been married for five years and had two children. She managed the produce department at a supermarket and he was a Correctional Officer at the County Detention Center. Two months ago, she kicked him out of their house for cheating. It was the second time she caught him. He wouldn't have a chance for a third. Since then he had come by a few times to pick up his mail and see the kids. She thought he came by mostly to show off for the kids, especially in that little black convertible his girlfriend bought him.

"Did you say little black convertible?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what kind of car it is?"

"I think he said it was a Mercury."

I shot out of that house and got in my Wrangler. It took me six minutes for a trip that normally took much longer. The key to the storage unit was still in the Wrangler's console. I opened the storage unit door and there it sat; my Black 1946 Mercury Convertible. It had belonged to my grandfather and was absolutely original except for tires, hoses, and a 12 volt electrical system. Even the hose clamps were original.

The first thing I noticed was that the top was down. I never left it with the top down. Looking further, I found small muddy shoe prints on the back seat, some old french fries on the seat and floor and an empty beer bottle under the driver's seat. I was mad. The ignition key was with the key for the storage unit lock. I put it in and turned it. Almost 200 miles had been put on the car since I left. If I was mad before, I was livid now. My wife knew the affection and respect I had for that car. I always told her she could drive it, but she always declined saying that she didn't have the nerve. But apparently, she let some son of a bitch use it as a daily driver; someone who let his kids walk on the seats with mud covered shoes and drop food all over it. My wife, knowing the reverence I had for it, allowed him to drive my most prized possession, other than herself; and he apparently treated it with the disrespect and nonchalance that only someone with no appreciation for objects valued by others could display. I could just see him sitting at a traffic light and, when the light turned green, 'popping' the clutch to see if it could burn rubber.

I hated the bastard! And I was beginning to hate her. Someone was going to pay! Maybe two someones!!

It might appear that my concern for my car exceeded that for my wife. Well, at that point it was a tossup.

Chris and I agreed early in our relationship, that adultery was grounds for divorce. There would be no second chances and no forgiveness. Before we were married, we very carefully crafted a pre-martial agreement, or pre-nup. We agreed that we should make it financially catastrophic if one of us decided to cheat. We felt that if tempted to cheat, knowing the outcome; both marriage dissolution and financial ruin, would cause us to re-evaluate any potential cheating. Both the house, which was bought for us by my parents, and the 1946 Mercury, which actually belonged to my family, were exempt as was the jewelry she had inherited and kept in the safe; but anything and everything else either of us brought into, or accumulated during, the marriage was included.

Before I left for Korea, and repeatedly in her letters since, she reminded me that any evidence, nay, any rumor or suspicion, of adultery on my part would result in divorce and compliance with the pre-nup.

Neither Chris nor I would ever be considered 'edgy' when it came to sex. We were always just meat and potatoes people; but when I watched the video labeled 'More Fun', I found in her dresser drawer, I saw a side of Chris I never would have expected. For starters, I recognized the room they were in as being my bedroom and she seemed to really enjoy anal sex; which is something neither of us had ever expressed an interest in.

I got my first look at Allison and was not impressed. He was neither handsome nor endowed; so he must have one hell of a gift of gab.

Chris took his dick in her ass repeatedly and from the screams and moans I heard, enjoyed it immensely. All this from a lady ... and I now use that term loosely ... who would always smack my hand away every time it got anywhere near her ass. Plus, she had always been a 'spitter', but she certainly seemed to enjoy swallowing when Allison popped in her mouth. I watched as he moved in and out of her mouth and I watched as her eyes rolled up in her head and I listened as the moans came from deep in her throat, around the dick that was there and out the corners of her mouth. I also watched as she actually licked her lips after swallowing as if trying to get any cum which had escaped with her moans.

And the fucking! Holy shit! At one point when he started fucking her, it went on and on and on. If you multiplied his six inch dick by the number of times it went in and out of her during one session, she must have had half a mile of dick pounding her. That must be his attribute; staying power.

One of the things I was curious about was the video itself. The camera moved around and the angles changed and there were close-ups. Somebody other than the two of them controlled it. So now there were at least three 'someones' who were going to pay.

I thought about it for a while and came to the conclusion that in some minds I could be considered at least partially responsible for her feeling it necessary to seek sexual satisfaction elsewhere because we had stayed pretty much 'vanilla'; and at least half of that was my fault. But the fact that I would never insist that she do things she didn't want to do tended to negate some of that. So what did Allison have, or do, to convince her to do them?

But the fact remained that she was still my wife, at least for now, and she was fucking another man.

The sky was about to fall on Christine Wetzel Walker and Andrew Allison.

Baby steps first. The first phone call.

"Hello, this is Sprint, how may I help you?"

"My name is Seth Walker and I would like to cancel service on my wife's phone."

"Certainly, Mr. Walker. I can take care of that for you." I gave them my account number and Chris's telephone number and they flipped the switch ending her service immediately.

Next call.

"Delta Airlines. How may I help you?"

"Hi. My name is Andrew Allison. We have reservations on your flight 2507 on the 27th. Our plans have changed and I would like to cancel those reservations."

"Certainly Mr. Allison. If I could have the flight confirmation number I can take care of that for you."

I gave the confirmation number off their flight itinerary and their reservation was cancelled.

Baby steps. Next phone call.

"Hello. Carnival Cruise lines. How may I help you?"

"My name is Andrew Allison and am currently on your 14 day Caribbean cruise on the Island Princess out of Lauderdale. As you will know, we are currently in Puerto Rico. (I knew that from their itinerary) My companion and I find it necessary to leave the ship when we get to The Cayman Islands so we would like to cancel the rest of the cruise. Our cruise number is ..."

"Certainly Mr. Allison. I can take care of that for you."

Baby steps. Those calls would do nothing but confuse them and cause them a little inconvenience. Nothing big, but it was good for my soul. The next call, however, was not a baby step.

"Hello. Delmarva Realty. How may I help you?"

"Is Joanna Rusk available"

"One moment please."

Pause

"This is Joanna."

"Joanna, this is Seth Walker. I worked with your husband up until a few months ago when I was sent to Korea. And I have a situation." She and I had met a couple of times and she vaguely remembered me. I told her my story. "So I would like to sell my house. Fast. I have to be back in Korea soon and I want it sold before I leave. I'm sending in movers to empty it in the next couple of days."

"That's pretty fast, but I think I can take care of that for you. I'll meet you at the house in 30 minutes with the contract."

Another step.

"Hello, Pentagon Credit Union. How may I help you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Seth Walker and I want take my wife off my credit cards, savings, and checking accounts effective immediately.

"Certainly Lieutenant Walker. Just give me those account numbers and your transaction authorization code and I'll take care of that for you."

By taking her name off the accounts, I kept all of the money; after all the pre-nup said I could.

Another big step and another call.

"Hello, Local and Long Haul Movers, How may I help you?"

"Hello, my name is Seth Walker and I need a house emptied and it's contents moved in the next couple of days."

"No problem, sir. We'll take care of that for you."

And yet another call.

"Hello."

"Uncle Hershel? This is Seth."

"Seth? We thought you were in Korea."

"I'm home for a few days. I came to check on Mom and Dad."

"How are they?"

"They're pretty banged up right now but they'll be fine. I'm in Maryland taking care of some personal business but I'm going back to Carlisle shortly. Listen, Uncle Hersh, Chris and I are getting a divorce and I need an attorney. Fast. Know anybody in the Bel Air area?" My father's brother was a Copyright Attorney in Philadelphia

"Let me make a couple of calls." Two hours later, I had an appointment with a friend of a friend of a friend of Uncle Hershel's.

Joanna Rusk arrived at the house. She walked through it and we decided on a price we both thought was reasonable so we signed the contract. I gave her a set of keys and the house was officially for sale.

Later that day I met with the attorney Uncle Hershel located for me and was assured that Chris would be served where and when I wanted it done. We ended our meeting with him saying, "I'll take care of that for you."

I left for Carlisle.

I spent the next day and a half with my parents. I didn't tell them about Chris or selling the house. They didn't need that in their condition. They were both in good spirits so I headed back to Bel Air and some unfinished business.

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byEphesus14© 42 comments/ 37906 views/ 75 favorites

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