Strike Three. You're Out! Pt. 02

"I can see that you're letting all of your anger at Rocco melt away. I told you this massage would be good for you. Why don't you flip over and let me do your front?

When I turned, he could see how my nipples had hardened. My pussy was on fire, and I was dripping like a faucet. You could smell my sex in the air. It was then that I realized that Jeremy had stripped down himself. His cock was massive. It had to be at least ten inches, and as big around as a coke bottle. My mouth was watering for that big dick. After a few massage strokes on my legs, he just grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me down to the edge of the massage table.

"You want this big cock, sweet lady, don't you? Bet your Rocco can't match this."

Somewhere, my conscience must have kicked in and for the first time with Jeremy I offered up some resistance. It was feeble at best. I knew I was at his mercy. He wrapped my ankles around his neck, then took his cock and laid it on my stomach. This left his huge balls resting right up against the opening to my pussy. He then lowered his cock so that it rubbed over my slit.

"C'mon Paige. You want it, don't you?"

"No, this isn't right. I can't. My husband," I weakly protested. But again, no real resistance. Just words.

With his hand, he guided the head of his cock over my clit and dragged it up and down several times. By this time I was panting and there was no turning back. He positioned the large bulbous purple head of his cock right over my opening, his pre-cum now mixing with my juices. He pushed his head in and I quickly pulled back. I heard myself saying, "No. I shouldn't be doing this." But what I really wanted was for Jeremy to fuck the crap out of me.

He pushed his head back in once again and held it there until I screamed, "Fuck it. Give me that big fucking cock now! I want it. Fuck me with it! Fuck me! Fuck me and then cum inside of me."

Jeremy slammed his cock home all the way up to my cervix and I instantly shuddered with a massive orgasm. I can't remember if it was one big orgasm that just lasted for several minutes, or several individual cums every time he removed his cock and then slammed it home again. He just kept ramming me with it, over and over again until I felt his head expand a little, and he exploded inside of me.

That night we must have fucked five or six more times, and he drove me to stronger orgasms than I've ever had. At his best, Rocco could only manage to get it up twice in one night. I stayed with Jeremy all night, and in the morning he drove me home. I would never be the same after the fucking Jeremy gave me. And I never gave a thought to the husband who cared for me and loved me. At that moment, it was all about lust. There was no looking back. All that was left was how I was going to deal with Rocco. I wasn't sure where he factored into the equation anymore, if he factored in at all.

Soon, Jeremy and I would meet up twice a week. The last time before the encounter weekend, when Rocco and I had our big blowout, Jeremy insisted we do it in my bed in our house. I resisted at first, but Jeremy worked his magic and just as before, all my resistance just shattered. This time was different, and I should have listened to my own conscience. Even though I was consumed by lust, and worshipped at the altar of Jeremy's cock, I was hearing the beginnings of regret. For the first time, Jeremy was very rough with me that night. And he was starting to say things to put Rocco down. After a while, I just tuned him out and floated in the throes of carnal desire and pleasure.

Then came the invitation for the grief encounter weekend. While I was starting to feel the beginnings of guilt at the unfaithful slut I had become, I was still at a point where Jeremy convinced me that I needed to indulge myself in response to what he continued to call Rocco's selfishness.

"I don't know Jeremy. I mean, what we've done has been pretty awesome, but I really want to start working on my marriage again."

"Girl, I think you better face facts here. Rocco doesn't care about you. Otherwise he'd be here with you right now instead of me. Babe, he doesn't deserve you. You and I are so good together. I think you can see that. Look, this weekend would be a great way to give our relationship a test. Why don't we just do this and see how you feel afterward."

"But what am I going to tell Rocco? If I don't tell him and he finds out, then there'll be hell to pay. On the other hand, if I tell him, I just know he's going to freak out."

"Look Paige. Maybe you should just lay it on the line with him. This could be the making or the breaking point of your marriage. Just tell him that you're going away with me because he's been a selfish bastard. And then, if he really wants to make the marriage work, he'll quit his umpiring job and come running down here."

In the end, I just couldn't be that honest with Rocco. I knew that if I went with Jeremy's second option, our marriage would be dead. And I just wasn't ready to give up yet. I was really confused. I knew I really had something with Jeremy. We connected on more than just a sexual level, or so I thought. Yet, there was that longing for the old days with Rocco, before all the trouble started.

When I finally called Rocco several days prior to the encounter weekend, I thought it best to simply tell him that Jeremy was taking me on the trip, but only because he was leading several of the group therapy sessions, trying hard not to hint that Jeremy and I were hooking up. Well, that conversation didn't go too well. Rocco was smart enough to know exactly what Jeremy and I had planned for that weekend. When Rocco got pissed, my selfishness kicked in and I lashed out at him. I realized after I hung up on him that the way I handled that call had been the biggest mistake of my life. I pretty much left Rocco with no alternative but to throw the towel in on our marriage. I knew the man. His sense of pride and justice would not allow him to willingly allow me to cuckold him. What a jerk I was. God help me, I wish I could go back in time and change all of this. But now, out of the sense of spite that Jeremy had planted in my head, I went willingly on a weekend trip with a man other than my husband. It wasn't enough that I was fucking him silly behind my husband's back, I had to rub his face in it. I ended up cutting off my nose to spit my face. I had really fallen down to the lowest level of slut and there didn't seem to be any way back.

To say that the weekend with Jeremy was awful was an understatement. We began the weekend with no thoughts of Rocco, but with my infatuation with Jeremy renewed. The Friday evening we arrived, while we were fucking, something changed. By this point, all Jeremy wanted to do was fuck. There was no tender love-making. And the insults he made toward Rocco were getting worse and worse.

"Your fucking wimp of a husband can't match me in bed. He doesn't give a fuck about you. Now you're addicted to my cock and I own your sweet ass, bitch!" he said as he just rammed into my cunt over and over again without any thought to pleasuring me. "When we get back from this weekend, you're gonna tell Saint Rocco the he ain't half the man I am, and that you're leaving his ass."

It was then that I decided I needed to get away from Jeremy. I was beginning to get my common sense back. But at that moment, where could I go? We came up in Jeremy's car, all other rooms were booked, and I was trapped. When the encounter sessions began the next morning, Jeremy was all sweet and charming, especially with some of the other wives. I noticed he was especially close to one young lady. Even though she was accompanied by her husband, it looked like Jeremy was trying to score with her. And he was doing this right in front of me! At some point during lunch on Saturday, Jeremy disappeared. I also spotted this young lady's husband looking for his wife. I had a very bad feeling. I didn't have my phone with me, so I went up to our room to retrieve it. When I opened the door to our room, what I saw shouldn't have shocked me; I should have expected it. There was this young married woman bent over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. Jeremy had a fist full of her hair in his hand, yanked up her head, and was banging her from behind for all he was worth.

He turned his head slightly to the right and probably noticed me with his peripheral vision. "Hey slut," he said, without missing a beat as he was slamming into his new whore. "You want a piece of this? Why don't you join us?"

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up into the toilet. I now fully realized my mistake. What caused me to completely lose my mind over this whore master? How did I sink so low? What have I done to my Rocco? I began to think that maybe the miscarriage had affected my mind or my hormones or something. And even though that might have been the case, who was I kidding? I willingly did this to the man I love because a predator had me convinced that Rocco was selfish. How fucking stupid was I?

Jeremy and the new slut wife were still going at it when I came out of the bathroom. I quickly gathered up my stuff, put everything into my overnight bag and ran from the room. Somehow I had the presence of mind to figure out how to get to the bus depot and get home. Was it too late to make this nightmare go away?

Several days later, Jeremy called me. He was back to being "Jeremy Professional," and was all sweet and apologetic. And guess what I did? I ran right back into his bed. What a fucking fool I was!

**********

Rocco

Over the next two weeks, instead of the usual nightly phone calls, there were none. My calls to Paige went directly to voice mail. On a Friday afternoon, one month after what was likely her and Jeremy's fuck-fest at the so-called encounter weekend, I arrived home and once again, no beef stew, no corn bread, and no wife. I had fully intended to confront her about the weekend and tell her that our marriage was toast unless she gave up the grief counseling, cut off all ties with Jeremy, and agreed to go to marriage counseling with me. I was prepared to quit my umpiring job right then and there. My mind was made up. I would give my marriage one more chance. I never got the opportunity that Friday night. She never came home. I knew then that we were done.

When I got home early Saturday evening from the game I worked that afternoon, the house was still empty. Paige must have come home at some point in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I found her in bed cuddled up next to me as if nothing unusual was going on.

I got up early, went downstairs and made breakfast. Soon she came down and sat at the kitchen table. I placed a coffee mug in front of her, and said, "Paige, what the fuck is going on? It feels like I don't have a wife anymore."

The look on her face gave her secret away.

I just came right out and asked her, "How long have you been fucking Jeremy Speedman?"

"Uh...Uh...I don't...I mean..."

"Cut the crap Paige. Tell me. How long?"

"I'm sorry Rocco. I never meant to hurt you. It just kind of happened. When you left to start the season, I was still depressed, but you had to go. I resented that you left me. I didn't realize just how I much I resented it until I met Jeremy. He made me feel safe and wanted while you were off chasing your dream. That really pissed me off. Jeremy and I really connected emotionally."

"Yeah, and it seems you connected physically too."

"Was he better than me, Paige? Did he have a bigger dick? Is he in better shape than me?"

"I won't lie to you, Rocco, the sex with Jeremy is awesome. But I realize now that it was a huge mistake. You have to understand that I felt you abandoned me when I needed you most. Rocco...I was at the absolutely lowest point in my life. Having last our baby, I felt like a complete failure. And you appeared to handle it so well, so stoically. I resented the way you were able to control your emotions over the whole thing. Listen...I don't know how to make you believe me, but this thing with Jeremy is over. Last night I broke it off. I want our marriage back. We can get passed this. I know we can. We love each other too much."

"You are fucking delusional. Do you know that? You think I will take you back after you acted like a slut and fucked Jeremy over and over again, and then rubbed my nose it and went away with him for an entire fucking weekend. You not only broke your marriage vows; you stomped on them, and then cut my heart out. Do you have any idea how I felt when you told me about your weekend. I wasn't born yesterday. I knew it was going to be a fuck-fest. And how many times did I tell you that I would quit for you? That you were so much more important to me than this God damned job? How many times Paige? And good old Jeremy convinced you I was a scumbag for leaving you, and then he talked his way into your panties real quick. You just couldn't wait to open up your legs for him. You took something that was precious to me and rolled it around in crap. On top of that, he made you cut me off, didn't he? Didn't he, Page?"

Paige just continued to stare down at her feet, not saying a word.

"Jesus Christ, Paige. Why didn't you just put a bullet in my fucking brain? Do you know how much I've loved you? Do you know that I would have died for you? I would have taken a bullet for you. And you do this to me? Five years all gone down the crapper. For what, Paige? Because you couldn't get a grip on your God damned reality. I lost the baby too, you know. I grieved. God, how I grieved. I never let you see it because you were in your own funk. There were whole days when I would just sit in the back of some strange church somewhere on the road before my games and cry for our baby. My pain was real too, Paige. But no, you think you have your own damned copyright on pain, don't you? You think you are the only one who suffered. I never thought when I met you, when I knew that we were going to share our lives together, that you would turn into a selfish, cheating, lying, conniving cunt.

"I think back to our exchange of vows. Never in a million years would I have thought at that moment that you would have turned into a whore. If anyone had told me two years ago that I would use these adjectives to describe you, I would have beaten the crap out of them. What the fuck happened to you, Paige? Was your life with me so completely fucked up and miserable? Was I such a bad husband because I wanted a better life for us that you had to do this to me? Christ, why didn't you just divorce me, you bitch? So, no. We're not getting back together. We're not getting passed this. Not in this fucking lifetime.

"I'll move out tonight. First chance I get, I'll get a lawyer, and we'll start the divorce bullshit. I'll stay in hotels for the rest of the season. When the season's over, I'll find an apartment. But I'll need to get back in the house to get my stuff."

"No, No, No, No! Please don't!" Paige cried. "This doesn't have to be the end for us. We can still live together. We'll make it work. I know we can get back to where we were. Why are you leaving? You can't leave me!"

"Paige. Really? What the fuck? Are you out of your fucking mind? Face it. You've turned into a cunt. Why would I want to stay with you? You're not the woman I married. She died the night she gave to Jeremy what was mine."

"Look Rocco. I'm sorry you're angry and hurting right now, but the truth is I still love you. I need you. I can't be without you. You've got to believe me. This was all a mistake. If I could, I'd go back in time and make sure this never happened. But I can't undo the terrible thing I've done. Can't you just accept that it was a reaction to our losing the baby?"

"But it did happen, Paige. You can't go back in time. Actions have consequences. You disrespected me in the worst way possible. You threw away our marriage and crapped all over it. And because of what you've done, I will never trust you again. And the special bond we shared is gone. You fucked it away. So now you have to deal with the shit that's left over, you filthy, disgusting whore. I never thought I would ever raise my voice to you, much less call you names. But right now, I've got to get the fuck away from you because I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

Paige collapsed on the floor and curled up into a fetal position, her body heaving with sobs. She kept repeating over and over again, "I need you. I can't live without you. Don't go. Please."

"Fuck you and the Texas horse you rode in on, Paige. I'm going to get the fuck out of your life, and I never want to see or hear from you again. I never thought I would say this to you, and may God forgive me for being so crude, but to me, right now, you're not the woman I married or the woman I loved. You are nothing but a filthy, cheating, disgusting slut. I'm sorry if that hurts, Paige. But that's the way I feel about you. I could never ever go near your cheating cunt again."

I had her served with divorce papers at her job the following week, and she signed them without contesting it. She actually asked me, through our attorneys, to remain in the house. There were no strings or stipulations. She just walked away from the life we had built together. I would have never thought that Paige was capable of completely destroying me. But she just walked away from me. Did I want to fight for my wife and for my old life. Not a chance. She made a decision. If she really loved me, this would never have happened in the first place.

On the day that the final divorce decree became effective, my lawyer contacted me and told me that Paige wanted to come back to the house one last time to get some things she left behind. And she asked to speak with me one before she exited my life forever. Against my better judgment, and in a moment of weakness, I gave in. By that time, while I was not anywhere near being over the pain she caused, I had come to grips with the situation, and I was significantly calmer. When she arrived at the house, I nearly lost it though. She was dressed in my favorite summer outfit and looked as cute as the Texas girl next door could be. I think she wanted to see if she could get one more shot at getting me back. And it damned near almost worked. I remembered the outfit and the look very well, and I was instantly taken back to the first time she wore it. She had on white strappy sandals with perfectly pedicured feet and red nail polish, white shorts that accented her curvy hips and tight butt, a pink tight top, with her hair done up in a bun and large hoop earrings. When I saw her, I turned away, and excused myself. I ran to the bathroom until I could compose myself. When I returned, Paige looked puzzled, not expecting my reaction to her outfit.

"What's the matter, Rocco? Please tell me."

I just stared at her blankly and said, "There was a time when you wore that outfit just for me. I would just look at you and say to myself, 'Damn...I'm one lucky son of a bitch.' I wonder if Jeremy will have that same thought when you wear it for him."

Paige tried to say something, but I held up my hand and interrupted her.

"I wonder if you'll take his breath away, as you did mine, whenever you brush your hand against his. Will he know for certain, as I did, that we would spend the rest of our lives together? Will he cherish you every hour of every day as I did? Will he do the little things, like bring you flowers for no special reason, or take you out to dinner, just because he wants to dote on you, as I did? Will he sit up with you at night when you get the flu, as I did? Will his heart swell with pride as mine did when he walks into a room with you and he knows that the eyes of every man there are focused on you?"