The Reality of It All

I barely managed to duck into the guest room again as they swept past me into the bedroom. He threw her down on the bed and hopped on, kneeling between her widely spread legs. The last thing I saw over my shoulder as I hustled out of the house was him spearing her muff yet again for what was likely to be a long, hard fuck.

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I fled back to my office, which was virtually empty on a Saturday morning making it a good refuge. It was time to work the problem. I took out a legal pad and a sharpie and went at it. If there is anything my time as a lawyer has taught me it is that the key to any negotiation is figuring out who has the leverage.

First Ally. My leverage was minimal. She'd already conceded my right to fool around on my own, so threatening that as retaliation was meaningless. Divorce was a crappy option for me financially and lifestyle-wise. The kids were a potential source of leverage. But while she may have turned into a cheating bitch, she'd never done anything to suggest she was an unfit parent, and anyway threatening to get into a contentious custody battle was a threat to cut off my nose to spite my face. I decided to hold that in my pocket, but realistically going into public court with the lurid situation was in a lot of ways worse than the just tolerating her whoring around. And anyway, I had no desire to drag the kids into this. My only real leverage was some sort of emotional blackmail. Go to her, cry like a baby, threaten to kill myself if didn't stop, something like that. Another thing to keep in my pocket, but again, the treatment here was worse than the disease. I could threaten to cut her off financially, but that made more sense in theory than practice. We had joint accounts, joint credit cards, as a married couple I was liable for her the debts she incurred anyways.

I drew a line across the whole sheet. There was no good angle with Ally. My choice with her was to accept her behavior or walk away, paying through the nose for the privilege.

Next Manny. God, I just wanted to kick the shit out of him. Remember that scene in Fight Club, where Narrator busts up Angel Face? I had dreams of doing that to Manny. But another thing I learned as a lawyer is, never bluff. I mean, maybe I could have scared him, but more likely Manny would just have laughed in my face if I threatened to beat him up. And of course, doing it for real wasn't an option. No way I was going to jail over this. I thought about hiring someone to do it for me. But again, I've seen too many of those things go wrong. The cops figure it out. Or you're now getting blackmailed by the guys you hired. Fucking disaster. I thought about trying to buy him off. That would actually probably work. I'd keep that one in my pocket too, but the thought of giving Manny a payday as a reward for tagging my wife was hard to swallow. Ultimately, I realized I did have one card to play with Manny. He seemed to have a nice little deal going on at the gym, getting paid to work out and make the moves on married women. And that I could cut off. My guess was that Ally was just one of many conquests, and that he'd be willing to walk away from her rather than lose his racket.

I called up the club and found out Manny was scheduled to work that afternoon. That gave me a few hours to prepare my pitch. I grabbed a late lunch, had a couple of scotches to fortify myself and headed over the confront him.

He was finishing off with a client when I got there, a cute redhead with a few extra pounds around the middle but a great rack and killer green eyes. She was probably on his list as well. I cut him off before he ducked into the trainer's room.

"Got a second?"

"Sure man, you looking to get trained?"

"Naw, this is personal business."

He gave me a queer look, and I realized he probably thought I was coming on to him.

"No, that's not what I mean," I stammered and he shook his head.

"Look man, maybe you should just talk to a different trainer, 'k?"

This was not going right at all. I was already on the defensive. I decided to get just spit it out.

"I want you to stop fucking my wife," I said, my voice training off to a whisper.

He regarded me cautiously.

"I think you got the wrong guy. I gotta go."

I grabbed his arm. His rock hard arm. He gave me a dangerous look. I let go.

"No, I have the right guy, and I want you to stop," I replied as firmly as I could.

A thin smile crossed his face. "And which one is your wife?"

"Ally," I said, and when he didn't respond, I continued absurdly "You know, tall blond, long hair, you were at my house this morning."

He grinned. "Yeah, I know who she is. Look man, I don't know you from a hole in the wall. This has got nothing to do with me. You got a problem with your woman? Take it up with her. I gotta roll." He started to walk away.

"Wait," I snapped. "Look buddy, you don't know who you're messing with."

He turned back toward me and stepped in close. "I think I have a pretty good idea. You wanna take a poke at me. Go ahead. I'm right here."

I took a step back, and a satisfied smile cross his face.

"I'm not gonna fight you asshole," I said. "But I have other ways of fucking up your shit."

For the first time, I'd managed to score a point. He gave me a curious look.

I continued. "You think you're such hot shit. Prancing around this fucking gym like you own it, dumb twats spreading their legs just because you have good abs. I can make that go away. One call to the owner, and you'll be out on your ass. And don't think you can just go across the street and start over. I'll make sure get blackballed, but good. No one wants a fucking gigolo working in their club. So how about you just cool it with Ally, and you can keep living the dream. Or you can try to see how well you make it out on the street with your high school degree and no skills other than pumping iron."

He glared at me angrily, a dull look in his eyes.

"Community college," he replied.

"Huh?"

"I have an associates degree."

I shook my head. "Whatever dude. Same fucking deal."

"I..." he paused and shook his head. "You know what jack? You're full of shit. I was gonna go out and hit the clubs tonight, but instead, I'm gonna go back over to your place and drop a nice, thick load all over your wife's face. Think about that when you're jerking yourself off tonight."

He turned and walked into the trainer's room, slamming the door behind him.

In the back of my head, I sort of knew he wasn't going to make it easy. But having made the threat I now had to carry through. First get him fired. Then make sure he didn't get another job. It might take a couple of months, but sooner or later I'd break the motherfucker, and he'd be back to deal. I was disappointed that it wasn't over, but I now had a plan.

The meeting with the club manager went about as expected. This wasn't the first complaint about Manny, though in the past it had just been a couple of women complaining about him making passes at them which he managed to dismiss as misunderstandings. The manager promised to fire him and also comped the next six months of club dues for me and my wife.

I went back to hotel and ordered room service, a steak and a bottle of wine. I knew I still had a lot of work to do with Ally. I'd need to keep a closer eye on her. Once Manny dumped her, she'd probably realize how shitty she'd been, and I thought that maybe I'd even things out somehow, maybe by demanding a threesome or something.

I went to sleep that night buzzed, but for the first time since I walked in on her and Manny, optimistic about the future.

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I took my time going home the next day. Slept late. Had brunch. When I got home, the kids were back, playing loudly upstairs. I could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. It felt like home again.

So, it is hard to express the shock I felt when I walked into the family room and and found Manny sitting there, drinking a beer and playing video games. It was like getting a blow to the chest. I couldn't breath. I stumbled backward into the kitchen.

"Oh, you're home," Ally said, startling me.

I turned to look at her. She was in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair in a pony tail, Suburban Mom 101.

"What is *he* doing here," I hissed in a stage whisper.

"Well, you should know," she sneered. "It's your fault."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, turns out he didn't only work at the gym, he rented a room from the manager, so when he got fired, the guy also kicked him out on the street."

I stared at her in shock.

"But why is he *here*?"

"He had nowhere else to go, and since you made him homeless, I couldn't turn him away when he showed up with his duffel bag."

I shook my head in disbelief.

She continued, "I really can't believe you did that to him."

"Me? The guy was breaking up my family."

"Don't be so melodramatic. It was just a stupid fling. And anyway, I'm the one you should be angry with, not him. Jesus, he's just a kid, and you're a high-powered lawyer. Pick on someone your own size."

I was about to respond when suddenly another thought jumped into my mind. "What about the kids, what did you tell them?"

"I said that he's a long-lost cousin from out of town."

As if on cue, the kids ran into the kitchen.

"Daddy, daddy, you have to see this, Uncle Manny just beat the bonus level on Mario!"

They then dragged me from the kitchen and made me sit there and watch as the man who was fucking my wife walked them through the secrets to beating some stupid video game.

The rest of the day was a blur. It was like I was walking through a haze, and the six beers I downed didn't help. Still, for the sake of the kids, I kept it together.

After dinner -- the five of us sitting around the kitchen table playacting an absurd family reunion -- Manny excused himself announcing he was going to pick up some of his other stuff. He was basically moving in. Ally and I got the kids to bed, and met back down in the kitchen.

"Look, we need to talk," I announced.

"Ya think?"

"This is crazy. He can't live here."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before fucking up his life."

"He's the one who fucked up my life," I exclaimed angrily. But I realized this would be a pointless debate. I took a deep breath and redirected the conversation. "How long has this been going on?"

She sighed. "That's the thing. You're not going to believe me, but I swear it's the God's honest truth. Friday was the first time anything happened."

I regarded her skeptically.

"I'm not saying it was completely innocent before. Lots of flirting. His reputation precedes him, you know, and I admit I was curious. But not even a kiss. Then Friday, I don't know. I was wearing my really tiny black tights and a sports bra, and he was checking me out shamelessly. There was something crazy hot about this young stud's obvious interest. He kept having to correct my form, pressing in close to show me the right way to do the movement, his hard body constantly brushing up against me. It was a hard session. I was sweaty, excited."

"When he was stretching me after the workout, he had his hands on my thighs, my stomach. He spread my legs to stretch my hamstrings, and I could see him peering between my legs. I realized he could probably see my pussy outlined, and I was so excited that he could probably see that too."

"He didn't say a word. Neither of us did. He just stood me up and pulled me into the handicap bathroom. He locked the door. We didn't even kiss. He just bent me over the sink, yanked down my tights, and buried his face in my vagina from behind. I was so wet already that he stopped almost immediately, stood up and shoved that gorgeous prick inside me. I came right away, and he was right behind me."

"It happened so fast that I hadn't even really thought about what I was doing. But, God, it was so good, I knew I need more. So I invited him home."

She paused now, her face flush with excitement at the memory.

"I... Why... I..." I stammered. I took another deep breath. "So if it was just an impulse thing, why did you tell me you were planning on continuing to sleep with him when I confronted you?"

"Oh God, I don't know. He'd barely left when we talked. My pussy was still throbbing from the best sex of my life."

"And now, you've changed your mind?"

She sighed. "I dunno. I'm so confused. I know what I am doing is wrong. Intellectually at least. But God, it feels so right. My mind and my vagina have been fighting it out ever since."

"I think your vagina is winning. You fucked him again yesterday."

She looked at me quizzically, trying to figure out how I knew. But she didn't deny it. "Yes."

"And you're going to do it again?"

"I don't know," she said softly. She paused, thinking. "Probably," she admitted finally.

My heart sank.

Just then the front door opened, and Manny walked in with a couple of boxes of personal possessions which he carried upstairs to the guest bedroom.

There was nothing left to say. I grabbed a bottle of scotch and went to bed.

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I woke up at 2:00am, groggy and needing badly to piss. As I stumbled back from the bathroom, I noticed that Ally's wasn't in bed. I don't know why I went looking. I knew where she was. But it was like a compulsion.

I stepped out in the hallway and cautiously cracked open the guest room door. They were there, together, of course.

The curtains were wide open and the room was filled with bright moonlight. Ally was on top of him, sitting up, slowly raising and lowering herself on his big rod. He was barely moving, just gently caressing her stomach and breasts with his hands.

It was an undeniably erotic scene. She looked so beautiful, her hair gleaming, her breasts puffy with excitement. She rode him gracefully, her body so like a dancer's moving to the sound of an unheard tune. For a moment, I wondered if I was turning into one of those weirdos who like to see their wives getting fucked, but the nausea rising up from my stomach demonstrated that wasn't the case.

Suddenly, Ally let out a sexy little groan, her ass thrusting raggedly for a few seconds before she collapsed lazily onto his chest. They kissed and exchanged a few giggling words. Then Ally slid off him and began kissing his chest, slowly moving downward, now licking his abs, and finally tonguing his thick slab.

He wrapped a hand in her hair to encouraged her. She took the head of his cock in her mouth, and now with both hands began pumping his shaft. He moaned contentedly.

I look up at Ally's face and was shocked to see her looking right at me. Our eyes met. I wanted to look away but I couldn't, and she didn't either. she continued jerking Manny off, his moans getting louder and louder. Then suddenly he gasped, and she flinched slightly as he began to fill her mouth with his seed. Still she held my gaze as she continued to milk his cock, swallowing his entire load.

When he was done, he let out a satisfied little chuckle. She finally looked away, now sidling back up until her face nuzzled his neck, her body cradled possessively by his powerful arms. I back away and went back to bed, though I didn't sleep another wink.

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At around 6:30am, Ally came back into the bedroom. I pretended to be asleep. She showered and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt before getting the kids up and ready for school. When I came downstairs dressed for work, she had a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs waiting for me. I marveled at how she managed to coolly act the role of dutiful wife and mother when she'd only just left her lover's bed. I played along for the sake of the children, even mutely accepting a peck on the cheek and a cheery "have a good day at work dear," as I walked out the door.

It only really hit me after I got into the office. He was now unemployed. She was a stay-at-home mom, and the kids were gone for the day at school. Do you have any idea how hard it is to concentrate on work, knowing that at that very moment another man is fucking your wife?

I tried to put it out of my head. But I just couldn't. I was constantly picturing them, lazing around naked, exploring each other's bodies, fucking whenever and wherever the spirit moved them. Bent over the kitchen table, doggy style in the living room, perched up on the clothes dryer, and probably mostly in my bed, her legs high in the air as he remorselessly pounded her pussy into submission with his oversized cock.

I threw up in my garbage can, the combination of three days of too much booze, too little sleep, and churning emotions suddenly laying me out. I locked my office door, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, and slept until after lunchtime. I woke up oddly refreshed and weirdly resigned.

I had to work late to catch up. My case settling got me out of depositions, but now required a ton of work on a tight deadline to tie up loose ends. In truth I was grateful for it. I threw myself into my job. And I did the same the next day, trying to lose myself in my professional life, accepting as a given that Ally would be in another man's bed that evening under my very roof.

It is weird how the intolerable becomes, well, tolerable. You go numb. You give up. And before you know it, what once seemed insane becomes the new normal.

And then I woke up. I remember the exact moment. I came home Thursday evening to find Manny playing Wii with my kids, with Ally sitting in an armchair with a glass of wine in one hand, a book in the other, and a big smile on her face. I didn't explode, but in that moment, I realized that I Was going to get the motherfucker out of my house no matter the consequences.

Still, even though I was now ready to throw everything away, that was still a last resort. My first steps were to swallow my pride and get him his job back and a place to live. He was looking pretty comfy in my house, and I wasn't sure he'd go, but it would be easier to get him out if he actually had somewhere to go.

I called up the gym manager and explained that there had been a terrible misunderstanding. Unfortunately, the guy seemed pretty happy to be rid of Manny, so he refused to hire him back. I cursed my luck. Then I remembered, I have a client who owns a fitness store. I called him and managed to get him to hire Manny sight unseen. I was pretty sure that would someday come back and bite me in the ass, but at that point I didn't care. He had a job starting the following week.

The apartment situation was even harder. The gym manager wasn't about to give Manny back his old room, and I knew that if I left it up to him, Manny would just drag his feet. After all, he had room, board, pussy, and video games in my house, so why move? There was no way around it. I just rented an apartment for him out of pocket. Another brutal concession, but it would be worth it if I could get him the fuck out.

I'd managed to get all that done by Friday evening, though Manny wouldn't be able to move in until Monday. Still, it was time to break the news.

I went home early. I steeled myself for what to expect. The kids were off on a school camping trip for the weekend. I'd dropped them off with their sleeping bags that morning, which meant that Ally and Manny had the house to themselves with no looming distraction. It was better than even money that I'd find them with Manny's dick wedged firmly into her eager snatch.

None of my plans had worked out yet, and now was no exception. I'd planned to confront them immediately, but instead I merely crossed paths with them as they headed out for the evening. A friend of Manny's was in a band and they were off to see them play. Ally absurdly invited me to come along, but I demurred.

It was actually sort of nice having the house to myself, at least for those few moments when I was able to forget that my wife was basically out on a date. Unfortunately, those few moments were fleeting because Ally kept feeling the need to text me updates: