tagHumor & SatireRight Under His Eyes

Right Under His Eyes


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters herein are imaginary. All events described here are fictitious. All sexual activity depicted here involves humans at least 18 years old. Nobody is murdered. This story is not to be taken seriously.

This is not a hot stroker. There is no detailed sex in this story, nor vicious cheating-wife BTB revenge, nor justice, nor reality. The cheating narrator is certainly not sympathetic. I sure hope you don't find this tale erotic.

---------- Right Under His Eyes ----------

Yes, I'm a cheating fucking slut, and a liar, and a lousy mother. But at least I'm no whore, and no thief, and no murderer.

I am not a whore, because I don't fuck and suck for money, just for fun. You don't have to pay me for fun. I get paid for talking dirty. And I am not a thief. I don't take stuff without paying, no matter what it's worth. I just pay the price.

Yes, I have been cheating on my poor husband since about before forever, and I am not about to stop. And he never even tried to stop me. I know he does not really like it, but he just can't stop me. Never could, never will.

And now it happens right under his eyes.

It started in high school in San Diego in the late 1960s. I'm Sue Ann. My "big little sister" (I'm older, she's taller) is Brenda. We are both medium-height medium-build mushy blondes, each just one inch either side of 5'6". We are very close, always have been. Very very close.

Our high school boyfriends were Brad and Randy, both tall thin dark-haired guys with hazel eyes, each of them 6'4". Brad the Senior was going with Brenda the Junior, and Randy the Junior was going with me the Senior. So none of us couples shared classes, but we all had lunch together.

And we all went together. We all shared. Brenda and I had always slept together anyway, and had started exploring our bodies together, and touching and tasting and loving each other, back when we started showing boobs and pubes. Brad and Randy just added to the mix. They could almost be twins, even their long cocks.

Yeah, we went out double-dating in public all the time. But we really liked when somebody's parents were away from home for the evening. Then we would all climb into an available bed there and fuck each other silly.

I sucked Brad while my sister sucked Randy. Brenda and I 69'd while Brad and Randy jacked-off each other. I fucked Randy while Brad fucked Brenda; and we swapped. Brenda and I double-blew Randy, then Brad. Brad and Randy double-fucked me, then Brenda. It all got kind of sloppy and juicy and yummy there. We had fun.

We were a happy foursome, except for the usual minor teenage angst. Puberty sucks, you know?

Brad and I graduated in 1970 and went on to the local community college. After Brenda and Randy graduated high school, everything changed. Brenda went to college in Portland, Oregon, and Randy moved to Boston for university. Brad and I dated just about anybody who would have us. We were rarely lonely.

I followed William Burrough's advice. "If you want to get laid, go to college. If you want an education, go to a library." I went to college, tee hee. :)

A year later, Brad and I finished junior college. Brad lost his student deferrment and went to England to avoid the VietNam draft, and I... I missed Randy so much, I moved to Boston too, and convinced him to marry me. I will tell that story below.

Not that I had been exclusive with Randy. Back home, I had still been fucking Brad, and Larry, and Carl, and Linda, and Ted, and Juan, and I think Steve and Felipe and Debbie, but I don't really remember them all that well. I was never going to be exclusive to anybody. Why be a Liberated Woman if you'll just wear chains?


I still lived at home with my folks and sister when I went to community college. I was just another flaky liberal-arts major there, getting a well-rounded education or whatever. Nothing about job skills, nope. I didn't need a lot of money and I'm pretty lazy anyway so I didn't have to look for a serious job. I did not want to work too much, just enough for pot and gas and clothes.

I got lucky and found a perfect job for me: phone sex. I worked a Dial-A-Slut sex hotline.

It started when big Ted took me to a big adult bookstore in a mini-mall not too far from campus. Ted was scanning the racks for the latest WATUSI DYKES monthly. I was just browsing around, soaking up the ambience, thinking about maybe getting some HUMONGOUS COCKS pictorials. Remember, this was back before home video.

"Yo, babe, you over 18? Let's see some ID," the chunky balding leisure-suited proprietor demanded.

"Sure, I'm an adult. What's it to you, fella?" I smirked, flashing my driver's license as I stuck out my rather nice tits and flexed the tight calf and thigh muscles emerging from my short-shorts. "I was born in 1951 and I'm fucking 20 years old now! I'm a woman -- W-O-M-A-N -- and don't you forget it, buddy!"

"Hey there sweetie, you got a pretty good voice, say something nasty to me, hmmm?" he leered.

"How about this?" I emoted sultry. "You're a wee loathsome toad with a one-inch pecker that itches and drips. You *could* get lucky tonight, with a jar full of chopped raw liver, or maybe a blow-up doll. Have you ever had sex with the same living person more than once? I'll bet you raise scared sheep in your back yard."

"Oh beautiful, babe! You're voice is perfect! How would you like a job, afternoons and evenings?"

"A job? Doing what? And where? And how much?" I was almost getting interested.

"Right in the back room, I got a phone bank back there. All you gotta do is talk dirty to the lonely slobs who call in. You get a comfortable seat and phone headset, some scripts to work off of and improvise on, all the drinks and snacks you want. Pay is straight commission. The suckers pay three bucks a minute for every minute they're on the line. You'll get a quarter of that. You could make up to forty-five bucks an hour. That's almost as good as a cheap lawyer or psychiatrist, yeah?"

Now I was definitely getting interested. I could make a load of money, just talking dirty? Fuck yeah! The 1970s would sure be a good time for me.

I started that evening. I soon slipped into an easy schedule: Classes all day. Homework before supper. Phone sex all evening, four or five hours, depending on the call volume. A quick comfortable fuckfest with some of my friends. More of the same the next day. And party all weekends. I could afford partying now.

My workspace was much nicer than I expected, like a lounge room, clean and airy. Some stuffed chairs and couches, each position with a table with phone and headset and script folders.

I worked with a constantly shifting varied crew of women with sexy voices. Sometimes we got friendly, and sometimes we had friends in. I could talk REAL dirty when June or Theodora was kneeling between my legs, licking me to hot moaning orgasmic ecstasy. Or when I slurped Norm's or Juan's big tasty cocks. Slurping sounds especially hot on a telephone.


Our phone bank had a nationwide toll-free line. I stayed in touch with Randy at school in Boston. I talked to him for a few minutes at a time, a couple days each week. I told him a little bit of what I was up to, and he talked about his studies. He studied hard. He had to, to keep his scholarship.

So I finished junior college and received my worthless AA degree. I decided to escape from the old home scene. I packed my gear in my new red Volvo (I'd finally dumped the old primer-gray VW Beetle) and headed northeast. San Diego to Boston, yeah, that's a nice transition, in summer anyway.

I was in no hurry. I took two or three weeks to make the cross-continent drive. Up to Portland to see and taste my big little sister. Over to Boise, and down to Salt Lake City to audition as a Mormon sister-wife. (Not as much fun as I had expected.) Across the scenic canyonlands to Albuquerque, then up to Denver, and east across the endless plains, flat as piss on a griddle all the way to Chicago. Through the nasty Rust Belt cities along lakes Erie and Ontario, and through a few not-so-rusty guys. Then across hills and valleys and fields and suburbs, into Boston.

I found Randy in his scuzzy dorm and I moved right in with him. I took him out to dinner. He took me up my ass. I knew that we would enjoy living together.

I had money saved, but it would not last forever. Ernesto, who ran the adult books and phone sex shop in San Diego, knew everybody in the business, and he had contacts in Boston. I was hired right away. I was back on the Dial-A-Slut circuit! And yeah, the money was good.

I sprung my plan on Randy a couple nights after I moved into his dorm room. I had just given him a good fuck, me riding him to a long hot orgasm while I had three or four screamers. I was collapsed on top of him, his long cock still semi-inflated and inserted deep into me. I whispered hoarsely to him.

"Hey Randy, how would you like to get out of this dorm? I can get us an apartment just off campus. You'll get a quieter study space, a bigger bed, and me. C'mon, I can afford this!"

"Sure thing, babe, why not? Yeah, I'd be glad to have a better space and less noise. You'll pick someplace good, yeah?"

"You bet, it'll be perfect for us. Oooh, you're getting hard again! Ready for another round, lover?"

No, convincing Randy to leave the dorm was not too difficult.


I was no great chef so we ate a lot of Chinese and Italian and Indian take-out. I could easily handle the cost. It was lots easier than learning how to cook. But I bought us a microwave oven anyway, and not just for popcorn. Well, maybe mostly for popcorn. And drying out cheap pot. Whatever.

Randy had tough classes just about all day, every day, it seemed. I worked in Silvio's phone bank most afternoons, complete with the usual oral fluffings to set my mood and tone. I had my mornings and evenings free. Randy was usually busy studying most evenings, and he just did not have time for clubs and dancing most nights. So I had friends over most mornings, and I went out on dates after dinner.

Randy was in an advanced biochemistry program. He was totally fucking dedicated to his studies, brilliant and hard-working, to the point where he didn't let outside distractions interfere with his concentration. He seemed to hardly notice that my fuck-buddies and I used our room during the day, or that I was out till late many nights, or that I didn't always come home alone, or at all. He just fixated on learning all he could about his science.

Things went well for that whole school year. Randy took intensive summer-session classes too. We only took a short vacation, if you could call it that -- a week in Philadelphia! Randy spent the days at a goddamn biochem research lab. We fucked a bunch in the evenings, and then he slept for ten hours, before going back to the lab the next day. I guess this was a "busman's holiday" or some shit like that.

I didn't hang at the lab in Philly. I wandered around town and found guys and girls to occupy me during the long sweaty summer days. It was okay. There's an old joke about a contest where first prize is an all-inclusive one-week vacation in Philadelphia, and second prize is a two-week stay there. That's about right. But some of the animals DO know how to party.

We returned home to Boston for a few days. Then I managed to drag Randy back to San Diego for another week off. He was resistant until I bribed him. What was the bribe? A wedding. Ours!

The wedding was small and fast and informal. We got our immediate families and a few friends and other bums together in a Unitarian Fellowship hall - don't say church to Unitarians! We had our reception at a Red Lyon hotel banquet room, and honeymooned the next day at the San Diego Zoo. I had wanted the wedding to be at the monkey house there. They turned us down. Nobody has a sense of humor anymore.

Okay, the real honeymoon was a couple days in a seaside lodge in La Jolla. My sister Brenda and Randy's almost-brother Brad stayed with us there. We all had fun fucking each other again. I sure loved sucking both guys' cocks together while Brenda ate my pussy. Yummy!


So now I was Mrs Randy Ronk. Life in Boston continued just about the same. Randy studied hard, and fucked me, when he remembered to. I made money, and partied hard with my friends. Randy hardly noticed this.

Randy came home unexpectedly one morning after a lab session was cancelled. I was in the party room with Dave and Darla and Jan. We were in a nice quiet four-way daisychain when I heard the front door open, Randy stomping down the hall in his size 17 trail boots.

Luckily, our room door was closed. Randy just walked down to the study room and immersed himself in data or whatever. We kept our orgasms fairly quiet till he left a couple hours later.

Another time, I had come home late with Hideo and Millie. We had been partying, drinking, dry-fucking on the dance floors of a couple or five hot clubs. We snuck down the apartment hallway, whispering like kids.

We passed the open bedroom door. I saw Randy asleep in our bed, naked, on his back, atop the covers, with his long hard cock sticking up like a rounded obelisk. I just could not resist! I gave him a great fast unconscious blowjob. He came like a stallion but never woke up. What a guy!

Then I rejoined my friends in the party room. Millie was already riding Hideo like she was Dale Fucking Evans and he was Trigger, his long thin Japanese cock sunk deep into her sexy saddle. I sat on Hideo's flat face and slurped Millie's fine bouncy tits. Ooh, this was fun! After a few more orgasms, I threw them out and crawled into our marriage bed with Randy.

In the morning, he told me about his great wet dream. I told him it sounded exciting. He got hard again, and did me like a dog, sliding easily into my wet pussy, taking sloppy seconds or sixteenths or whatever.

All went well for another few school years. Randy got his BS quickly, then got in a Master's program and notched his MS in no time at all, and moved fast towards his doctorate. I kept having hot fun and making money. Because of my job, Randy did not have to play any impoverished-grad-student games. Life was good.

I had been on The Pill since about forever, of course. The Pill was reportedly 99.9% effective. That means that on any given day, one sperm-squirt out of 1000 would slip past. And for 90% of each month, that did not matter, because I wasn't fertile then. So only one squirt out of 10,000 could ever be a risk.

But the odds catch up eventually. I got pregnant. I was totally knocked up, higher than a kite. I thought about getting an abortion. But then I thought, "Hey, why don't I try the motherhood thing? It could be a different thrill."

Yeah, right. Pregnancy sucks. Labor sucks. Pain sucks. And I soon found that mothering sucks, especially twins. But that's okay, I could afford a nanny-housekeeper. Let HER do all the dirty work! And Maria was a good fuck.

I moved us all out of the apartment, into a nearby townhouse with a little back yard. I hired Hector from Haiti to be gardener and handyman. He was a pretty good fuck too. Very good, in fact.

So I could keep on being Dial-A-Slut, and party all I wanted, and not have to pay attention to the twins or the house. I had already paid to have the whole place soundproofed. Nobody bothered anyone else. Randy did not really have time to be an actual father. But he could play 'daddy' when necessary. He liked that.


Why was Randy working so hard? Because he had a dream, a fixation. He was tracing all sorts of weird biochemical molecular structures, trying to fit them together in different ways.

Randy hit pay-dirt. He discovered a compound that quickly congealed and crystallized proteins. And what was the major application of this compound? Embalming!

Randy had done some cross-training in mortuary science. He first became interested in this when he worked summers at his uncle's funeral parlor as a teenager. All the undertakers in the business complained about the lousy chemicals they had to work with to sufficiently embalm a corpse.

Randy's compound, which he called FastFreeze, changed everything. Just hang the cadaver, drain its blood, and start a small drip of FastFreeze. Within an hour, all the body's tissues, including organs and skin and blood and bones, would harden and stiffen. The proteins became hard crystals, metal-hard, not fragile. No shattering and no rot. Position the body as desired, and it stays put.

FastFreeze was not perfect. Undertakers had to be VERY careful with it. If any got into the bloodstream of a live organism, the pulse would drive the compound throughout the living body. A few careless undertakers were embalmed alive! This limited its commercial acceptance.

Randy's continuing research was aimed at making FastFreeze a bit less sensitive. It could not just be diluted; its structure needed changing. This research was long and hard and eventually fruitless.

Some scientists get grouchy when their work does not produce results. Some see failures as good learning experiences. Randy had a bit of both. Failure to perfect FastFreeze so it would be safe to use just drove him to more intensive research, more effort, longer hours. But he also got grumpy, with stomach pains.

"Goddammit Sue Ann, this is starting to piss me off! I just can't get the fucking molecular structures right."

"I know you'll finally nail it, baby. Just like you nailed me. Hey, let's do anal some more!" I squeezed his big balls. He grinned a little.

"Yeah, okay, I'm up for that. Ouch! My ulcer is giving me a monster gut-ache again. Pass me the Maalox, hey?" I poured some more rum into the bottle and passed it over. He liked that special boosted mix. He took a slug, then bent me over and nailed my ass again. I screamed my usual pleasure.


His grumpiness had a side effect. He could not concentrate as hard on chemical theory and semi-abstract thoughts. He actually started noticing more of what was happening around him. He looked closer at the house, and the twins, and Maria and Hector and me. He was not yet putting pieces together, but he sometimes had a curious expression on his long sallow face.

The twins were five years old now. They did not look a lot like him or me; they looked slightly Oriental. I guess Hideo was the biological father. The twins were fluent in Boston English, and Honduran Spanish and Haitian French, thanks to Maria and Hector. And a little Japanese from Hideo. The kids were friendly with all the 'Uncles' and 'Aunts' that came visiting. They got used to seeing naked adults.

Domestic life crumbled one night. I had friends with me in the party room. Randy worked late in the lab as usual, but he quit quite early for a change and came home. I had not closed the party room door. Randy stood in the doorway in his lab clothes and saw Lasisha eating me while Juan fucked her and I sucked-off Hideo.

"Hey, what's this? What's going on here, Sue Ann?" Randy did not sound happy.

"Oh baby, we're only partying. Just like the old days, y'know? C'mon and join us! We'll have fun!" I said after Hideo pulled his engorged dick out of my wide mouth.

"You're my wife, Sue Ann! Get these people out of here! Now! We need to talk!"

My friends disentangled and dressed and left. I threw on a robe and followed Randy into our bedroom. We both sat on the edge of the bed. Randy looked into my eyes.

"Is that what you do while I'm working in the lab all day and night? Screw around? Jesus fucking Christ, Sue Ann! What's happened to our marriage?"

"This is what our marriage has always been like, Randy. I work and make money so you can spend your life in school and the lab and doing whatever you want. I work and make money to pay for this townhouse and the staff and the kids and our lives. I relax and have fun the way I want, with whoever I want, and I deserve it, because I work and make the money that pays for everything."

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