tagLoving WivesThe confession

The confession


Somewhat emotional little story, with no real sex, and no guy enjoying some other chap screwing his wife. So if that's what you need, please pass on.

If you like reasonable revenge however??


By the time I got home my heartbeat had maybe settled down a little. I'd had a stressful evening __ an evening full of tension, and an experience that one wouldn't want to have too frequently.

That night had been a shock to my system, something that I simply would never have expected. But then again, I suppose there are mugs like me all over the place, but as a serving police officer I had been more prepared to deal with it than most men would have been.

I got myself a beer, a Speckled Hen, sat down in my favourite chair, and waited. Waited for my lovely, loving wife to come back home from her night out with the girls.

Like hell!

Ten minutes passed then twenty. Just as I was beginning to wonder if their night hadn't in fact been over, I heard the key in the door.

This was it!

This could go either way.

By tomorrow our marriage could be over but that was now down to her.

"Oh Gerry," Jenny said in surprise, as she entered the room. "What are you still doing up?"

It was gone two in the morning, so the question wasn't unreasonable. I'd been long since in bed and asleep for the last few months when she'd come home from her weekly night out, so the question was no surprise at all.

I stared at her, at quite how beautiful she still was. Nearly thirty-two, three years younger than me, slender, long legs, full breasted, and such a lovely, pretty face. Small wonder that the guys in that bloody club had been queuing up to get her in their arms on the dance floor. Small wonder that they had been so keen to let their hands explore her firm shapely bottom, and any other part that they could reach.

"Had a good night dear?" I asked calmly.

"Oh not bad Gerry," she replied casually. "Nothing special you know ___ good fun, but nothing out of the ordinary."

So _____ what I'd witnessed earlier had been nothing out of the ordinary hadn't it? Did that mean that she carried on like that every Wednesday when she went out with her friends Sue and Jude.

Jenny went to take off her jacket, and then thought twice about it. Any other time I would hardly have noticed it, but since I knew how revealing her top was since she had taken her bra off earlier, then I could understand why Jenny was hesitant. I wondered how many other times she had come home like that when I was in bed asleep, and totally unaware.

'Ready for bed sweetheart?" She asked with a smile. "At least I won't have to wake you up tonight to get what I need."

Well at least that was true.

I couldn't complain about the action I got when she came home from her nights out. If I wasn't too deeply asleep, then she woke me, and if I was, then we made up for it in the morning.

"Hang on Jenny," I stopped her. "Before we go to bed, I've got a little story I want to tell you."

"Can we leave it till the morning sweetheart," Jenny pleaded with me. "I'm really very tired and need a shower before I go to bed."

"No Jenny!" I told her firmly, and for the first time she looked at me closely, and the smile on her face faltered. "Take your coat off and sit down Jenny."

"That's OK," she replied sitting down.

"Take your coat off Jenny."

"It's OK Gerry, I'm quite comfortable."


My wife leapt up in shock, hesitated, and then carefully took her coat off, making sure that she kept her arms folded across her chest. Trying, only partly successfully, to hide the way her unfettered breasts swayed freely under her flimsy dress.

I knew that she had lost her bra during her night out.

I knew how she'd lost it, and where she'd lost it.

I even knew where it was now.

It was in my jacket pocket, along with her panties, though I wasn't about to let her know that yet.

I told her how me and my partner Tom had been cruising in our patrol car and spotted what looked like her Volkswagen Golf, parked outside the Blue Gown Club, a well known if dubious club in our sea side town in the South of England. I asked if it was her car, or had I made a mistake, as she'd told me she was going out to a restaurant for a meal that night.

How much did I know?

Just what did I know?

She had no idea, and I saw her brow furrow.

"The Blue Gown Club?" She queried, screwing up her eyes as if she was trying to remember if it rang a bell.

"Yes that's right, and think about it before you answer me, because our marriage could depend on it."

The colour drained from Jenny's face, and she clutched at the table in front of her, her large breasts swaying freely under her dress as she forgot about trying to hide the disappearance of her bra.

"Yes ____ yes, that's it Gerry," she gasped out. "It's a club, but with a restaurant. We went there to eat."

"And dance?" I questioned her.

"Dance Gerry? What do you mean dance?"

"Nothing wrong with dancing Jenny is there?" I taunted her. "I just asked if you'd been dancing."

She looked at me silently while she tried to guess how much I knew. In all our nine years of marriage I had never known her to actually lie to my face.

She was on sticky ground and she knew it.

"Did you go into the club Gerry?" Jenny asked me, the nervousness in her voice clear.

"That's for me to know, and you to guess my love," I teased her. "So, did you do any dancing?"

Jenny shrugged her shoulders while she fought with her conscience. Desperately trying to guess how much I knew.

"Yes we did dance Gerry," she admitted at last. "All three of us danced a bit."

I said nothing, just sat there looking at her, my eyes boring into her.

"Ok then, we danced quite a lot. All three of us danced most of the evening."

"Who did you dance with then Jenny?" I asked next. "Anyone in particular?"

"Quite a few different guys," Jenny told me." Three girls like us get hit upon quite a lot."

Well that was true as well, and I'd certainly witnessed that. Her and her two pals made a pretty stunning trio with their high heels, and little flimsy mini dresses, all bare legs, swirling hair, flashing smiles and exposed cleavages.

"No one special then Jenny. No one that you danced with more than the rest?"

Jenny's eyes flared, and she half stood up, sinking back into the chair when she realised that she was trapped.

"Stop taunting me you bastard," my wife exploded. "How long were you there? What did you see?"

'Ah ___ now that would be telling wouldn't it my love."

I let that sink in before continuing.

"Tell me everything you did tonight. Lie to me once and our marriage is over. Tell me the truth and I might, just might, forgive you."

The fact that she didn't argue, at least established that she knew she was in deep trouble.

"Please Gerry, I love you. Please believe me tonight didn't mean anything, just messing around. Flirting a bit, but that's all."

"Then tell me all about it," I insisted again, not too unpleasantly despite the tight feeling in my gut.

This time Jenny swallowed hard, and with a grim look on her face started to tell me what she'd got up to. For the time being at least, all thoughts of having a shower, or going to bed were thrust aside.

"Well we arrived there, had a few drinks, and before long guys started to come up to us and started to flirt and ask us to dance with them.

We flirted back a bit, but nothing serious, just teasing them like we always do. And I danced with a few of them. There was one guy that I danced with a bit more than the others, but only because he was a good dancer."

I knew that last comment was a half-truth. He could dance for sure, but that wasn't the only or even main reason that she'd spent most of the evening draped all over him. From the off they'd looked more like an affectionate couple, than two people who had only just met one another, and his hands had been roaming all over her as they danced.

"Well that was it really Gerry. I did dance quite a lot with him, but he left about midnight, and me and the girls finally left quite a lot later."

True! Yes that was true, but was far from the whole story.

"So you didn't go outside with this guy then Jenny?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"Go outside? __ why would I go outside with him?"

She was stalling. But I still loved her despite everything and decided to cut her some slack. Give her one more chance at confessing and telling me all.

"The black BMW by the sea wall Jenny? What about that?"

Her face crumpled and the rest of the colour left her face. Jenny quite clearly mouthed the words 'Oh shit' under her breath.

"Well?" I encouraged her. In some strange way, I was quite enjoying her discomfort.

"Oh Christ Gerry it was nothing. I didn't do anything I promise you. At least I didn't .... That is we didn't .... Well you know." Upon which Jenny burst into tears and put her head in her hands.

"How long have you been seeing this Norman Jones?" I asked her.

'Oh God, you even know his name," she mumbled into her hands. "Oh I'm so sorry Gerry. What a bloody fool I've been."

I nodded my head in agreement, but she was so distraught that she didn't notice.

In my job I was in a position to find anything I needed about him. If I wanted I could find out his bloody inside leg measurement. After leaving her to wallow in her misery for a few more moments, I decided to push on. There was still much to be decided. So, taking her bra out of my jacket pocket, I threw it over to her, asking if she had lost it somewhere.

It drew no response.

So I took her panties out of the other pocket, and balling them up, threw them in her direction as well.

She could hardly not notice them now, and she groaned miserably, shaking her head side to side.

It took her three attempts to speak coherently she was in such a state, but eventually, between tears, she begged me to tell her what I had seen.

"Everything," I told her angrily. " Bloody everything from when you let him touch up your tits on the dance floor, till you let him take off your panties and stroke your pussy.

"Oh Gerry I'm sorry. I just wish I'd never met him. But I didn't let him fuck me Gerry. I swear I didn't let him do that."

I let her cry for a while, ignoring the barely comprehensible claims of love for me, and claims that 'it didn't mean anything' and she 'hadn't allowed him to go all the way'.

"I know Jenny," I confirmed to her last. "I watched you together, and if you had let him screw you then we wouldn't be sitting here talking about it now."

That set her off again, desperately swearing to me that she'd never go behind my back again. Pleading with me to forgive her, and give her another chance. Stupid bloody cow.

I was going to give her another chance as it turned out. I knew for a fact that he hadn't been the first to cop a feel of her boobs before, but that had been at parties and things when I'd been there, we'd all had too much to drink, and in fairness I'd been doing more or less the same thing myself.

The finger fucking ___ well that was a bit different of course, but I was sure it had been the first time it had happened, and that after this trauma, she'd think very long and hard before she even looked at another man again.

Even so. I did have one more test for her, and it wasn't over yet for her. To see how much she really valued our marriage, and to check that this Norman guy didn't mean that much to her.

I reached into my trouser pocket, took out a small key, and threw it onto the table in front of her. Jenny reached forward and picked it up.

"What's this?" She asked through her tears.

"Don't you recognise it Jenny?"

"Oh yes," my wife agreed after looking at it closely. "It's the key to your handcuffs isn't it?"

I told her that she was more or less correct, but that they were obsolete ones bought on the Internet. Handcuffs that couldn't ever be traced back to me.

Jenny wiped her eyes with her handkerchief, sniffled a few times, and then looked at me with a puzzled expression, waiting for an explanation.

"When you left the club to go out to his car Jenny, he went first and you followed a few moments afterwards. Is that correct?"

She nodded her head in agreement, unable to meet my gaze, as she explained that she didn't want anyone to see then leaving together, or suspect what they were up to.

"And when you left his car?"

"I went back into the club first," she explained; as if I hadn't worked it out for myself. "And then Norman followed five minutes after."

"So did he?" I queried.

Jenny looked up startled. She gasped, and put her hand to her mouth.

"He didn't come back Gerry. We waited half an hour but he never came back. We even went out to check his car and it was still there, but there was no sign of him."

I simply grinned at her; it wasn't an especially pleasant grin. Not one that was designed to make her life any pleasanter. Then I waited for the penny to drop.

"Oh my God Gerry," Jenny cried out in alarm as it dawned on her. "What have you done? For God's sake, what have you done to Norman."?

"After you left, Tom and I dragged lover boy out of the car and handcuffed him. He objected a bit, but he thought he was being arrested for lewd behaviour in public or something. Then we took him down to the beach behind the sea wall, and handcuffed him to a stanchion of the old pier. Only after Tom had put tape over his mouth did we explain who we actually were."

"What's Tom got to do with all this?" asked Jenny wide eyed.

"It was Tom who alerted me to what was happening. He discovered that his wife June had been having a full-blown affair with your friend Norman for the last six months. They'd been fucking and sucking when Tom was on duty. He found out, and when he followed him to check up on him, he discovered that he had started to hit on you. If I had reason to hate your friend Norman, then Tom had reason to detest him."

"Oh my God, the bitch," butted in Jenny. "It was that cow June that first introduced us, but I had no idea that she was involved with him. So what are you going to do Gerry? Leave him there all night?"

"Not as easy as that sweetheart," I told her, springing my last test. "Where we've chained him, the water will be about three feet over his head when the tide comes in."

Jenny stared at me aghast, letting out a little squeal.

"But you can't let him drown Gerry __ you can't. That would be murder."

"As I see it Jenny, he's only got one chance," and I looked down at my watch to check the time. "By now the water should be lapping at his feet. Another forty minutes and it will all be over, and it's a twenty minute drive back to the beach."

She was too shocked to say anything. Too shocked to move.

"If he means that much to you, then you'd better hurry and save him. But if you do, then it will be the end of our marriage, and anyway I'll be out of here or in prison.

If you decide not to, then come to bed with me and I'll forgive you. We'll try to carry on as if nothing had ever happened."

Jenny, poor cow, sat there shaking all over, staring at the key in her hand. Not that she didn't deserve it.

"Only ten minutes left Jenny," I informed her after a while.

I would soon find out just how much Jenny really loved me.


If it hadn't all been so sad, then I could have been quite amused, as she sat there dry eyed, but shaking uncontrollably.

She was feeling so guilty, that not once had she queried whether I was actually telling the truth.

Oh damn sure Tom and I had dragged him out of his car, and damn sure we had given him a beating that he would never forget. If he ever saw either of our wives coming in a club again, then he would beat it out of the back entrance.

Not that he'd be in a state to go visiting any clubs for a couple of months, and he'd maybe never dance again like he used to.

He'd squealed like a pig when we'd hung him upside down over the sea wall, as despite what I'd said earlier, the tide was right in. Not a pleasant prospect when you're handcuffed with two broken legs.

"Only five minutes left," I called to her, but she still didn't move. Then Jenny looked up at me and made a brave attempt at a smile.

"Let's go to bed Gerry," she mumbled nervously.


That put the ball back in my court, and now it was my turn to make a decision. Had she suffered enough? I wasn't absolutely sure.


The End

Hope you enjoyed it. Remember it's all invented and things don't happen like this in real life.

Or do they???

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by Anonymous

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by ErotFan02/10/18

Heh, heh...

You are a wickedly evil man. Now your wife thinks she' complicit in murder. Sweet.

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