My Wife's Infidelity - Massage Time

One night, unexpectedly, during a love-making session, my wife made a confession about one of her affairs.

There are two affairs that she's previously confessed. This third confession confirmed one of the more curious, and troubling events that I have long suspected, and to some extent been haunted by.

Around two years after our last child was born, and probably a year or so after the Halloween party indiscretion with "Mark," my wife was involved in a severe car accident.

The details the specific accident are unimportant, other than she suffered a number of serious, but not life-threatening injuries.

Fortunately the safety systems of her car did their job. After recovering from the initial trauma of the accident, she had lingering pain and discomfort in her lower back, neck, and shoulders.

The recommended treatment was physical therapy, combined with massage therapy.

After the accident, I was in a period at work that required frequent travel.

In retrospect, I was certainly less than attentive to my wife's needs, and failed to recognize the trauma related to the aftermath of the accident. The ongoing physical issues were obvious, but there was an emotional component I was unaware of.

KK started a physical and massage therapy regime, and I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it, given travel demands, distractions with the kids, and so on.

I happened to be off the road on a Tuesday, and in my office.

The school called, and the nurse informed me that I needed to come and pick up one of the kids, who had become ill - apparently my wife, the primary contact, was not reachable.

As I made my exit to go collect the kid, I was troubled - I called my wife's cell phone, and it went straight to voicemail. I went and picked up the kid, and headed home.

When I arrived, her car was not in the drive, or garage, and once I got the kid settled in, I made a few more calls - no answer at her studio, her cell went straight-away to voicemail, and even a couple of her friends whom I called had no idea where my wife might be.

Mid-afternoon, I heard the garage door open, and my wife appeared in the den, where I was sitting.

KK was wearing a black velour warm-up suit, sneakers, and her hair was in a pony-tail, but wet.

She looked shocked, and very surprised to see me, and said, "What are you doing home?"

I told her that the school had called, sick kid, etc., and that since she was no where to be found, I took care of it - I was overly bitter and chastising of her absence in my tone, but I was annoyed.

I told her, "I guess its a lucky thing I wasn't on an airplane, or in another city, huh?"

All I got was an angry scowl, followed by, "It's so nice to be a single parent..."

She stormed off down the hall without another word.

I did not elect to press the issue, and about an hour and a half later, she returned to the den.

Although I had not asked for any explanation, she said, "Did you forget? I was at physical therapy, and I wasn't near my phone. I'm glad you were here to deal with the kid."

That was it. She went on about her routine, and although I was still troubled about the incident, I soon enough forgot about it, and it was off my radar.

KK continued physical therapy for about eight months. During that interval, there were a few more unusual incidents, missed appointments, leaving very early for her morning PT sessions, and stuff I probably should have noticed.

Things like new workout wear that seemed a little too sexy for a married mom going to PT sessions, lots of new lingerie, from sexy panties and thongs to lacy, matching bra and panty sets, stuff that KK didn't characteristically wear. It never occurred to me at the time, that my wife was dressing sexy for someone else.

In that eight month, I got a couple of surprise bills from the PT/massage clinic. I made some phone calls, and it turned out insurance was only covering six of the eight months - that was after my wife, on her own, had negotiated with the insurer and the other driver's lawyer to extend coverage from the original three months.

It all seemed fishy, and that evening I asked her about it, without being confrontational.

KK got very upset, and made a few excuses that she was still having neck, shoulder, and back pain, and it wasn't up to the insurance company to say how long it took her to recover.

It was odd, because she seemed way more upset and angry than necessary, and I told her that it wasn't a problem, that we could keep paying out of pocket until she felt like she had full recovery.

Then she bitched at me some more, which was even stranger, telling me it was none of my business anyway, and that she would handle it. That was coupled to some ranting about why I had to even be involved at all, damn insurance company, and so on.

Once again, after a few days, it was off my radar.

About two months later, I was meeting an associate for lunch, Dana, who was collaborating on a development project with me.

Dana told me that she ran into my wife earlier that day in her neighborhood.

It struck me that my wife was sort of way off course.

I was dimly aware that she had a PT appointment that morning, and was supposed to be (I thought) at whatever clinical facility she visited.

I asked Dana if she knew why KK was in the neighborhood, and she told me that there was a massage therapist a couple of houses down, and across the street, that ran his "practice" partially from his home!

Dana said, "He gets a lot of traffic, so your wife was probably getting a treatment or something, right?"

I tried to hide my surprise. KK had said nothing about "home treatment," and had told me she was still visiting the clinic for therapy.

My response got an odd look from Dana, "Treatment, or something... do you know this massage guy?"

Dana said, "I only know him casually. He's pretty cute, and I see him around the neighborhood all the time walking his dog. Jerry (Dana's husband) doesn't like him, because he's kind of an ass, and "too flirty" with the married women in the neighborhood."

The "too flirty" comment was disturbing, and I tried to refocus the conversation to business, so I could finish up with Dana and make an exit. My anxiety level was off the chart.

I suffered the rest of the day in mental and emotional distress, thinking about this - physical therapy and massage therapy that had run 7-months or so beyond what the insurance originally agreed to pay, the gaps and odd incidents in KK's schedule, the too-sexy workout wear, lingerie, and now her being at some "massage therapist's" in-home practice. It all added up in my mind to no good. I didn't have a plan for what I was going to do about it.

So I sat on the knowledge overnight, and the next day.

When I got home that evening, I mentioned casually to KK that I'd had lunch with Dana, who'd mentioned that she'd bumped into her "in the neighborhood."

KK immediately bristled.

I didn't press, and after a long pause, my wife said, "Um, yeah, my neck hurt like hell and I had to schedule a therapeutic massage visit - I was dying! The therapist was working out of his home studio that day. That's all."

I played along, and said, "Well, I hope you're better baby. I'm so sorry you're still hurting."

The tension eventually declined, and the remainder of the evening was uneventful.

She was supposed to have another "session" on Friday morning, so I decided to do a little detective work.

Friday morning, I was supposed to travel, but I changed my plans, and decided to use the gap in the morning to spy on my wife.

I set up the situation that I was going to head to the airport from home mid-morning. I'd packed and made out like I was set to go.

When KK left the house, I waited about five minutes, then got in the car, and headed to the neighborhood where my associate Dana, and the supposed "massage therapist" lived, not knowing what I was really going to do.

I turned onto the street just as KK was about halfway up the front walk to one of the houses down the block. She was easy to spot, wearing a hot-pink tracksuit, I could see her from a mile away probably.

Slowing to a crawl, I watched her at the door, knock, and then enter the house. I drove past the house as slow as I dared, trying to see anything at all. I have no idea what, but in my mind thoughts of KK banging some dude, visible in the living room window came to mind.

I decided to circle back every half hour to 45-minutes, until her car was gone to see how long she would be in her "therapy" appointment.

I made six trips, over about three hours before her car was no longer parked out front. Then I went to a sports bar I used to enjoy, and had a few beers and some hot wings, while I considered my options.

I decided to continue playing along, at least for a while. On the surface, everything was fine between us - our sex life seemed more or less normal, no extraordinary marital tensions, fighting, or other problems, no financial issues, no nothing that was other than what I thought was generally smooth sailing.

I figured I could certainly blow my life up by confronting her, or accusing her of fucking around.

I called her cell, and told her that my trip had been cancelled, and I'd be home in an hour.

That was as far as my plan went. When I got home, she actually had dealt with the kids, and was preparing a dinner for just the two of us, which was pretty unusual.

Before dinner was ready, the in-laws came by and picked up the kids for the weekend, and that left KK and me alone for what turned out to be an unexpected, and sexy long weekend.

We spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday having a pretty romantic time, including multiple sex sessions, in a higher level of sexual arousal and eroticism than had been the norm.

We had a couple of sexy bedroom fantasy talk/fuck sessions, a think KK and I sometimes enjoyed.

In one, I whispered to her a fantasy of being blindfolded and fucked by a stranger in a hotel room. In another, I vocalized a fantasy of an outdoor orgy, with dozens of hot men and women participating, on the shore of our favorite lake.

KK had multiple orgasms in both cases, and was very receptive to the fantasies.

Our alone-time long weekend came to an end, and "normal life" resumed, at least for KK. I was still consumed with thoughts of her cheating, my suspicion, and fear.

About a month later, she told me in passing that she had completed PT, and was feeling much better, back to normal. The bills stopped coming, and while I was still "spot checking," the visits to the "therapist" seemed to have stopped.

That seemed to be the end of it. All I was left with was nagging, unconfirmed suspicion, and the odd set of facts I'd accumulated.

Roll the clock forward to the night of her confession. We were lying in bed, making out, and as usual, I was hard, just from kissing her.

She said, "Well, aren't you just hard and ready? I can take care of that big problem you have, if you want?"

Who can argue...

She said, "Let me tell you about something that's been on my mind. I have a confession to make. Do you remember after I had the car accident? When I was in physical therapy?"

My cock got hard as steel from the recall of that set of memories.

I said yes, "It sure took a long time for you to heal up, didn't it?"

My wife said, "I think you know more than you're letting on. I was getting a massage one day, and I saw your car drive by at least twice!"

I was still hard, but not certain of what to say.

After a pause, I said, "Well, I was just worried about you."

KK said, "Yeh, right. Just worried. You know I was fucking him, right?"

I replied, "Well, maybe I suspected - are you going to tell me about it?"

KK proceeded to confess many of the sordid details of her nearly year long relationship with the physical/massage therapist.

She told me that at first it was innocent, that she was visiting a legitimate clinic for the first three months, until the insurance coverage was going to lapse.

KK told me that about a month into the therapy, during a massage treatment things went from therapeutic, to erotic, and that he (his name was Daniel) fingered her to an orgasm to "try and help her relax."

KK said, "One thing led to another. Daniel was really good with his hands and fingers. He knew every special spot. The next treatment I went for I took out his cock and sucked it, and made him fuck me. God he had a huge, beautiful cock!"

"We fucked a bunch of times at the clinic - it was so sexy, but he was always afraid somehow we might get caught. That made it hot for me - I used to imagine a pretty nurse, or a hot doctor walking into the therapy room and catching us, where of course they would have to join in and help with my treatment."

My wife said that I was neglecting her then, and she had needs, and that Daniel was so sweet, and handsome, and had such a big, nice cock that she just couldn't resist.

She said that after the first three months, she was addicted to fucking and sucking him, and she negotiated with the lawyers and insurer to give her three more months, to "buy cover" so that she had a solid excuse to keep going to "therapy."

She said, "Do you remember how angry I was when they tried to cut me off, and you found the bills?" I finally started to feel guilty, because we were basically paying Daniel to fuck me out of our own pocket!"

"After the insurance ran out, I just started going to his house to fuck. It was better, because we could go at it longer without anyone bothering us. A little of the thrill was kind of gone, but Daniel made up for it. He could fuck me so good, sometimes three or four times in a session! He made so much cum too - more than I've ever seen, and he had such a pretty cock, a fucking gorgeous cock baby, it was so fucking fine!"

KK said, "That day you followed me, I was taking a break after I sucked Daniel's big cock and made him cum.

I was walking by the living room window, and I saw your car drive by. It scared the shit out of me!

At first I didn't know what to do, and I though maybe it really wasn't you. So while Daniel rested, I waited there by the window.

Then you drove by again, and I knew I was busted.

But... that didn't stop me from having one last power-fucking session with my hottie Daniel.

So I fucked his brains out, what was going to be one last time."

My cock was raging hard, listening to KK's confession, and just imagining what my slutty, cheating wife would look like sucking Daniel's cock, or riding it to orgasm. I could visualize her eyes rolled back in the sockets, as she does during an intense orgasm, bouncing on the guy's cock.

KK said, "I knew the jig was up, so I was going to get the fuck of my life before I saw you again. I just knew you were going to lose it. But you didn't... did you? You didn't even say a word about your dirty cheating wife..."

KK continued her confession, and placed her hand around the base of my cock and balls, gripping tightly.

KK said, "When you got home that night, I tried to be a good wife, and make up with you - that was good, right?

But it was so hard, because I loved having that sweet man fuck me, so I kept seeing him for about another month, sneaking over to be with him.

God his cock was so damn big, and he fucked me so good baby..."

As she was telling me this, despite her grip around my cock and balIs, I squirted a huge cum load, spontaneously all over her thigh and belly.

KK said, "I finally stopped because I was afraid I was running out of excuses, and that you were going to catch me red-handed. I didn't want that, so I gave him up. It was too bad, because he was such a hot fuck."

And that was that, her confession was complete.

My wife said, "Now clean up that cum, and let's go to sleep."

I licked the cum off of KK, and we shared a cum-flavored kiss. I had difficulty sleeping, and while KK dozed, I stroked myself to another orgasm thinking about all the things my hot cheating wife must've done with her massage therapist.