The Cheating Zone 01: Karen

Something just a tad bit different. Depending on the response, I may follow up with other stories similar to this.

As always, constructive comments are always welcome and appreciated.

Please remember this is a work of fiction - a flight of fancy, if you will. For those who like to poke holes or be overly critical, that means it's not real. So sit back and enjoy...

*****

Friday, May 13, 2016 6:30 pm:

Karen Anderson was in a completely different world as the man above her kept pounding into her with his much larger-than-average cock. She had already experienced several orgasms since coming into this motel room an hour or so ago, all of which she thought were much better than anything she had ever felt with Kyle, her husband of ten years. Whatever feelings of guilt she had about cheating on her husband were soon replaced by what she now felt between her legs.

In fact, Karen wasn't even sure why she was doing this. Things had been great between her and Kyle. He always treated her like a queen, doted on her, bought her presents and flowers on a whim, just to say 'I love you.' And the sex between them was good, even though it had dropped off a bit lately. They had two wonderful children and things were, in general, great.

But for some strange reason, she decided to give herself to John. Maybe it was the months he spent in the office seducing her with his compliments and the sly glances he gave her. Maybe it was the thrill of doing something behind her husband's back or perhaps it was the gossip she heard about his giant package from the other girls in the office. Perhaps it was all of the above.

At first, she was worried about what this might do to her marriage and her family, but all that went away as he gave her the first orgasm of the evening with his tongue. Naturally, she returned the favor by swallowing a load of his seed and then the main course began. Now, all she cared about was getting as much of this man in her as she could in the short time they would have together, even if it meant getting pregnant by him.

By now, all thoughts of Kyle left her mind. There was no longer any guilt, just the need for another orgasm. She'd make it up to her clueless husband, she thought. Maybe she'd even teach him how to do that thing John did with his tongue.

Eventually, John, the man now fucking her senseless in this cheap motel room bed, emptied his massive load inside her, sending her over the top with a mind-blowing orgasm of her own. He fell down on the bed next to her and the two lovers fell asleep in each other's arms after promising each other a repeat performance.

She woke up and glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to her. The clock read 8:30, which gave her plenty of time to clean up and get home. She told Kyle she would be working late but would be home by 10:30 at the latest. The motel was only a half-hour from her house, so she had plenty of time to clean up and get home to her husband.

She looked at the other side of the bed and noticed John had already left. She didn't recall him leaving and thought it odd he would go home to his wife without saying anything to her. She decided to give him a piece of her mind when she saw him at work the next day. She also noticed that his side of the bed looked as though no one had ever been there. Strange, she thought, but decided that he was probably as neat as he was talented.

She went into the bathroom, inspected herself and noticed that other than a bit of puffiness between her legs, John had left her free of any tell-tale marks. That was good, she thought, as she didn't want to explain any strange bruises or marks on her body.

She took an extra-long shower, using two douches to clean herself as much as possible. She didn't want to risk taking John's bodily fluids home to Kyle - at least not yet. After inspecting herself closely, she put her work clothes back on and prepared to leave, giving the room another quick look to make sure nothing was left behind.

Karen dropped off the room key, then looked around to make sure no one she knew saw her. The only person she spotted was a rather odd-looking man in an outdated gray business suit on the corner looking at her. He seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. He held a cigarette in one hand and the other was in his pocket. What struck her, however, was the lack of any natural color. He looked like a character straight out of an old black-and-white 1960s television show.

She made her way back to her car, got in and noticed the interior was covered with dust and smelled musty, as though it had sat idle for an extended period of time. Odd, it wasn't like this just a few hours ago, she thought. She rolled down the window to air it out and tried to start the car.

At first, it wouldn't start, but after pressing the gas pedal several times it sputtered to life, black smoke pouring out of the exhaust. She pressed the gas pedal several times to make sure the car would run, making a mental note to have her husband look at it in the morning.

She headed home, wondering if Kyle would spot any change in her. Hopefully, he wouldn't even notice.

She got home a few minutes before 10:00 and saw two strange cars in her driveway. That's odd, she thought. Kyle didn't say anything about having company over. The house looked a bit different to her as well. The curtains were all wrong and the landscaping had been completely changed. Surely Kyle didn't do all this in one day, and certainly not without consulting her first, she thought.

She double-checked the address to make sure she was at the right house, then parked on the street. Kyle had some explaining to to, she said to herself.

She got out of the car and went into the house, noticing that everything was wrong. There was strange furniture in the living room, all of her pictures and precious knickknacks were gone, replaced and worse yet, there was a somewhat older black couple sitting on the couch looking at her strangely.

"Who are you people and why are you in my house?" Karen asked. The man stood up and looked at Karen strangely.

"I'm Al Jorgenson," he said, "and this is my wife, Amanda," he added, pointing to the attractive woman sitting with him. "Who might you be, miss, and why are you in our home?"

"My name is Karen Anderson, and I've lived in this house with my husband Kyle for the last eight years," she said. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Miss, I think you might want to leave now," Al said. "We bought this house from Mr. Anderson a year ago after his divorce became final."

"Divorce?" Karen asked, shocked. "What divorce? I was here just this morning with my husband before I left for work."

Al began moving toward Karen. "Miss, I really think you should leave before I have to call the police."

"Yes, please, call the police," Karen said. "Something's going on here and I intend to get to the bottom of it. This has got to be one of Kyle's practical jokes."

Al picked up his phone and dialed 911. After he spoke to the dispatcher, he hung up the phone and addressed Karen.

"The police will be here in a few minutes," he said. "You may have a seat if you wish to wait for them here," he added, motioning for her to sit in a recliner next to the couch.

Karen sat down wondering what she would do next. She pulled out her smartphone and suddenly realized it was dead. This, too, was odd, as she always kept it charged up so Kyle or her children could contact her at any time.

"I'm sorry to trouble you, but may I please use your phone so I can call my husband?" Karen asked.

"Sure, no problem at all," Al said, handing her his phone.

Karen dialed Kyle's number from memory but got a message telling her the number was no longer in use. Frantic, she tried calling her parent's number but got the same response. She also tried calling Kyle's parents but got a fast busy signal. Dejected and out of options, she handed the phone back to Al.

"You say you bought this house a year ago from my husband?" she asked Al. He nodded.

"Yes, we did," he said. "He sold it to us at a very good price and said it was due to a divorce."

"Did he say anything about why he was getting divorced?" she asked. Amanda spoke up.

"He mentioned something about a cheating slut for a wife," she said, looking at Karen suspiciously. Karen was shocked. How could he know so soon after her first tryst with John? "Poor guy. I could tell he was heartbroken. And those poor kids. I felt so sorry for them." By now, Karen was in tears. Her life and marriage had crashed and burned and she didn't even know it.

Shortly thereafter, a police cruiser pulled in front of the house, its lights flashing. Two police officers appeared at the door. Al spoke to them first, then invited them inside. Karen stood as they came inside.

"Please show us some identification, miss," one officer said. Karen opened her purse and pulled out her drivers license. The officer looked at it then spoke to Karen.

"Is this some kind of a joke, ma'am?" he asked. "This license is blank."

"What?" Karen asked, looking at the drivers license. The laminated card the officer held was completely blank. There wasn't even a photo under the lamination.

"Do you have some other form of ID?" the officer asked.

"I've got something in my purse," Karen said. But when Karen opened her purse, she found that all of her other cards were completely blank.

"I don't understand," she said. "There should be credit cards, an ATM card, my social security card, but they're all blank."

"Can you at least give us your name?" the other officer asked. "Maybe there's something in the system."

"Sure," Karen said. "My name is Karen Anderson, and I live at W. Highland Park Road with my husband Kyle. I work as a paralegal for the Jenkins law firm downtown. Surely someone there can vouch for me."

The officers looked at each other with frowns on their faces before addressing Karen again.

"Did you say, 'Karen Anderson,' ma'am?" the second officer asked.

"Yes, I said Karen Anderson. Spelled K-A-R-E-N," she said.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you're going to have to come to the station with us so we can verify your identity," the first officer said. "We apologize for the intrusion on your evening, folks," he told Al and Amanda.

The officers led Karen to the police cruiser and placed her in the back seat. After securing her inside, one officer went to Karen's car and dug through her glove compartment, pulling out some paperwork.

They rode in silence to the police station and Karen was fingerprinted and taken to what appeared to be an interrogation room.

The door opened a half hour later and a plain-clothes detective entered the room with a folder. He sat down across from Karen and placed the folder in front of him. He went through all the preliminaries, advising her of her rights while ensuring her that she is not a suspect in any crime.

"All I want to do is verify your identity, okay?" he asked. Karen nodded.

"You say your name is Karen Anderson, right?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"And you told our officers that you reside at 1501 W. Highland Park Road with your husband, Kyle," he added.

"That's correct," she said.

"You also said that you work at the Jenkins law firm as a paralegal, correct?" he asked.

"Yes, that's right," Karen said.

"We have a bit of a problem here, Mrs. Anderson," the detective said. "For starters, your fingerprints don't exist. I don't mean they're not in the system, I mean, you have no prints on your fingers. They don't even appear to have removed by acid. They just don't exist.

"There's more. We looked at the records for that address and found that it was purchased by Al and Amanda Jorgenson a year ago from a Kyle Anderson. According to court records, the house was sold as part of a divorce settlement between Kyle and Karen Anderson," he said. Karen was shocked. What was all this talk about a divorce?

"But I'm still married to my husband. I just saw him this morning. I don't understand how this is possible," she said through her tears.

"Look, miss, I'm just going by what's on record with the court. Tell me, please, where were you earlier this evening?" the detective asked.

"I was at the Gaslight Motel, room 117," she said quietly.

"And what were you doing there?" he asked.

"I was, um, with a man," she said, looking down at the floor.

"What were you doing with this man?" the detective asked.

"We were, um, you know, fooling around," she said.

"You were having sex, right?" he asked. Karen nodded her head.

"Yes," she said.

"And can you identify the man you were with?"

"Yes," she said. "John Hawkins, my supervisor at the law firm."

"I see," the detective said. "Do you make it a habit of cheating on your husband?" Karen looked shocked.

"No, I don't. This was the first and the last time, I promise," she said.

"Interesting," the detective said. "The file we have on you includes a very thorough report from a local private investigator your ex-husband hired. According to the PI report, you were spotted with Mr. Hawkins many times at that same motel over a period of several months. Would you like to revise your statement?" Karen shook her head.

"No, that's not right," she said. "I only went there with him the one time, today."

The detective sighed and sat back in his chair, looking at Karen.

"Miss, I happen to know the senior partners at Jenkins. I made a call this evening and was told that a Karen Anderson and her supervisor, one John Hawkins, was terminated almost a year ago for violating the company's rules against fraternization," he said. "But that's not all."

He pulled a photo out of the folder and placed it on the table in front of her. The photo showed a woman laying on a motel bed, her eyes open, her face gray. The woman looked just like Karen and worse yet, was dressed in exactly the same outfit Karen was wearing. Her eyes got wide and her hand went to her mouth in shock.

"This photo was taken about three months ago, miss," the detective said. "According to the officers who responded to the call, one Karen Anderson, residing at 1501 W. Highland Park Road, was found dead in Room 117 of the Gaslight Motel three months ago. An autopsy revealed that Mrs. Anderson died as a result of an overdose of sleeping pills, apparently taken with copious amounts of alcohol.

"So, miss, can you please explain to me how it is that a woman who happens to look and dress exactly like a woman who was found dead in a motel room three months ago is now walking around in my precinct?" he asked. "And how is it that you just happened to be in the exact same room this woman died in?" Karen shook her head in shock.

"No, that can't be," she cried. "I'm not dead. I'm right here. I don't know what's going on. Please believe me. At least tell me where my family is, please. I can't get in touch with anyone."

"Well, miss, I don't know where Mr. Anderson is, but I understand he moved out of town after the divorce. I do know his former in-laws died shortly after Mrs. Anderson's body was found."

"Oh my God, no, please. Please tell me my parents are still alive," she begged through her tears.

"I'm sorry. If you truly are the former Mrs. Anderson, and I'm not ready to concede that point, then I can't honestly tell you that," she said, sending Karen into hysterics.

"Miss, I think you need professional help. I'm going to call the County Behavioral Center and have you transported to their facility until we can get to the bottom of this," he said, pulling out his phone. Karen shook her head.

"No, please, don't do that. I don't know what's going on, you have to believe me. Just let me talk to my husband."

"I can't do that, ma'am. I don't even know who you really are. You look like the late Mrs. Anderson, you dress like her, you seem to know some of the intimate details of Mrs. Anderson's life. You even drove Mrs. Anderson's car, although I'm not sure how you got it started after it sat for so long. By the way, the tags on that car expired some time ago, so we're impounding it until you can prove ownership and update the registration.

"Right now, I think you need to discuss this with a mental health professional. Please stay right here," he said as he walked out the door. Karen put her head on the table, sobbing. This wasn't supposed to happen, she thought. Surely her husband would come rescue her.

The door opened and two large men came in the room with a strange garment. As they began putting it on her, Karen realized she was being placed in a straight-jacket and began struggling.

"No, no, please, don't do this to me," she said. "No! Noooo! NO!!" she screamed over and over, but the men kept putting the garment on her until she could no longer move her arms. "NOOOOOOOO!!" she screamed as one of the men injected something into her neck. Within seconds, her world dissolved into blackness...

Thursday, May 12, 2016, 11:30 pm:

"Wake up, dear," a man's voice said. "Wake up. Are you okay? Karen? Wake up." Karen slowly opened her eyes and saw her husband's face. "Karen, you were having a nightmare, but it's over. Wake up, dear," he said.

As Karen's mind slowly shook off the dream, she realized that she was in her bed with her husband, Kyle. She instantly threw her arms around his neck and smothered his face with kisses.

"Oh my God, Kyle, is it really you?" she asked.

"Of course, silly, who else would be in our bed?" he asked.

"Hold me, Kyle, please," she cried. "I missed you so much." Kyle held his crying wife as tight as he could. He loved holding this beautiful woman. But, he wondered, what the hell was she talking about?

"I'm right here," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not go anywhere," she said. After calming down somewhat, Karen looked at her husband.

"Kyle," she said. "I have a confession to make and I'm afraid you may get really mad at me." He looked at her with concern.

"Kyle, I almost made a terrible mistake," she said.

"Almost?" he asked.

"Kyle, please don't hate me, but I have to tell you this. You know we promised to never keep any secrets from each other no matter how bad they might be."

"Yes, dear, I know. You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?" he asked. Karen nodded.

"Yes, I know, but this is really bad. You know my supervisor, John Hawkins?" Kyle knew him alright. They met at the law firm's Christmas party and Kyle could tell he was a first-class asshole who considered himself God's gift to the female of the species. Basically, a legend in his own mind. He could also tell that John was trying to get his hooks - and his private parts - into Karen.

"Yeah, I remember him all right," Kyle said.

"He's been after me for the longest time to stay after work, except he doesn't want to work, if you know what I mean," she said.

"You mean, he wants to get into your panties," Kyle said. "I can understand that. You're a beautiful, sexy woman. What man in his right mind wouldn't want to have sex with you? If we weren't married I'd make a play for you myself. What I don't appreciate is the fact that he knows you're married."

"Yeah, well, he wanted me to meet him at a motel for sex," she said, looking down.

"Oh, really?" Kyle said, his mood darkening. "And you agreed?"

"No, not really," she said. "But I didn't really disagree, either. I just kinda blew him off. But he's expecting me to meet him tomorrow. I can't do that, but I'm afraid it'll affect my job if I don't."

"Well, I can assure you it'll affect our marriage if you do, and yes, it could affect your job as well," Kyle said. "You know I won't tolerate infidelity and your company has strict rules against fraternization. Both of you could get fired and yes, I would seek a divorce."

"I know," she said. "I haven't done anything with him yet, but I'm afraid. I know he's been with a lot of the other girls in the office and they all say he's a smooth talker who isn't above using drugs to get his way. You do believe me, don't you?"