tagLoving WivesTicket to Ride

Ticket to Ride

byHarddaysknight©

I had been scheduled to return home Friday evening, around eight. Dan Wilkins and I had traveled to Boston to pitch our company's products to several major buyers. We were doing quite well, or so it seemed. It would be a few weeks before we received a definitive answer from our clients. Friday morning we were notified at 8 AM that our meeting for the day had been canceled and would not be rescheduled for at least a week. Since we had nothing to keep us in Bean Town, we headed back to Pa.

I had some things that Karen had been harping on me to finish around the house, so I was glad to get home early to work on them. I had ridden with Dan and he dropped me off at my house around 2 PM. I went and changed into some work clothes and gathered up a few tools.

Years ago, we had added a bedroom and master bathroom to our house. That gave each of our two kids their own room. They were out of the house now, but things were tight when they were younger. We tried to save a little money by putting the addition on a three-foot crawl space, rather than a full basement. I had fashioned a trap door in my closet that allowed me to drop into the crawlspace from inside the room. I also had a panel on the wall in the backyard if I needed to enter or exit the crawlspace from the outside. To open the trap door, I had to close the closet door most of the way so the bi-fold doors didn't restrict the opening of the trapdoor.

I gathered everything and dropped down below the bedroom. Three feet is better than a lot of spaces under rooms, but it was still difficult to move very well. I crawled over to the pipes that led to the master bathroom with my wrenches. I noticed that the rat poison I left under the bathroom floor was mostly untouched. I had a red squirrel problem a year ago. I never told Karen, but I bought a pellet gun and spent most of a weekend down there, hoping to drop the little bastards, like a regular Wyatt Earp! It was a machismo thing, and I actually had a lot of fun.

Karen was away at her sister's place that weekend and I must have missed a couple squirrels a few dozen times. I had those pellets bouncing all over. Then I had the idea of putting an empty soda can in a corner and shooting at it. After a few hours and a few hundred shots, I was able to hit the D in the 'Mountain Dew' can at about ten feet. I had become a sharpshooter! I never saw the squirrels after that. I guess a firing range is not the type of place an animal wants to frequent. By the end of the weekend, I had grown bored with the game and had stuffed some cement in their access hole and left poison out for the varmints.

I was under the bathtub, trying to loosen the rusted fittings that held the drain. It had become clogged to the point where water slowly filled the tub when we showered, and no amount of Drano would remedy the situation. I was going to take the bull by the horns and take the drainpipe off and either clear out the obstruction, or replace the pipe.

I have found that it is necessary to first rip the skin off a few knuckles before any serious plumbing can be performed. I had just managed that task when my cursing was interrupted by footsteps. It was way early for Karen to be home, but there was no reason for anyone else to be in my bedroom. I had visions of her running the shower about the time I removed the drainpipe and a small flood washing over me. I crawled back to the trap door to warn her to not use the water in the tub.

As I reached the trapdoor, I heard a man's voice. That seemed really odd and I started getting a bad feeling. I slowly stood up through the door. I had the top half of my body showing in the closet. I had closed the closet door almost completely, so I was not seen.

Karen was undressing quite casually. At least, I thought it was rather casual considering Carson Herzog was standing by the bed! I realized I had to move pretty quickly or my faithful wife would no longer have that title.

"I love getting together with you, Karen," grinned Carson as he peeled his shirt off and unbuckled his pants. "You pussy is so tight and hot. I love fucking it!"

I then realized I was too late to prevent the dastardly deed! It sounded like it was a regular happening. Karen was naked and laughing as she climbed on the bed.

"You better hurry up and put it in this little pussy. We have about an hour. Then I have to clean up and have everything ready when Tim gets home this evening," she cautioned.

"An hour is enough time for me to get you off a few times. I think I'll cum in your married pussy first. Then, if I am feeling up to it, so to speak, I'll give you a load on your pretty face and lips," promised Carson.

I like to think of myself as a reasonable man, but my anger was building fast. I felt flushed and my knees started shaking. That always happens when I become really agitated.

"It sounds like you have it all figured out, Carson," chuckled Karen. "As long as I have time to clean up, use me any way you want. You know I enjoy everything you do to me!"

Old Carson was sitting naked next to Karen, pinching her nipples and kneading her tits as he replied, "I want you to leave my load in your pussy today. Let Timmy clean it up when he gets home, or doesn't he dine at the Y?"

"Tim is a very accomplished pussy eater, actually," chuckled Karen. "I just don't want him to get suspicious. If he knew about us he would go ballistic. Besides, I don't want to hurt him."

"You little slut!" laughed Carson. "Are you that dumb, or do you think I am? If you didn't want to ever hurt him, you wouldn't be naked on this bed with me right now. You don't give a shit about Tim, and neither do I."

"That isn't true, Carson!" Karen protested. "He is a very good husband, father, and provider. I just need a little excitement in my life. I don't want to lose him. I love him."

By this time, Carson was poised over Karen's open cunt with his hard cock.

"Well, I'm not complaining," admitted Carson, "but I think you have a strange way of loving a man. Look at my cock sliding into you and tell me you love Tim."

"Oh! That feels so good, Carson!" cooed Karen. "I do love Tim, agh, but I love your cock, too. I want both."

Carson suddenly stopped and pulled his cock from Karen's hungry cunt. I was beginning to clear my head and my knees had stopped shaking. I had attained a new level of anger, where I was very calm. I wondered if mass murderers felt the same way before they went on a killing spree.

"Promise you'll leave my juices inside you for Tim to clean up, or I won't give you this cock," teased Carson.

"Okay! I'll do it. Tim is so trusting; he'll never know the difference. He'll think he just got me extra wet. Now, fuck me for Christ's sake!" implored Karen.

As Carson plunged into my wife's willing cunt, I dropped down to the crawlspace and made my way to the outside exit. I walked around to the front of the house and saw Carson's SUV parked in the driveway. Karen must have ridden with him since her car was not in the garage or the drive.

I grabbed a hammer and my cordless drill and kneeled down by the back tire. I had a small bit already in the drill, so I drilled a hole into the tire. It hissed for a second, and then popped. It took a matter of a few seconds to flatten all four tires. Just for the hell of it, I drilled the spare tire mounted on the back door. Then I circled the car and smashed every light and window in the goddamn thing. I was beginning to feel a little better.

My neighbor hides a key on his porch and I have permission to enter his house, as I deem necessary. I went in and dialed Carson's number. I knew it because he and his wife were good friends of ours. Karen worked with Carson and we had all become close. I never realized how close, apparently.

I grabbed a towel from a rack by the sink and covered the phone with it. When Dottie answered, I told her I was a neighbor that had seen a guy vandalizing her husband's car, at Tim Stewart's place. Then I hung up and went to the back of my house again and reentered the crawlspace with the hammer and drill.

I didn't want to leave the weapons of mass destruction where they could be found and possibly point a finger at me. I see now, that logic didn't track. Who would be the first suspect? The enrarged, wronged husband! The car was thrashed in my driveway! I crawled over to the ledge where I had kept my pellet gun stashed and removed it from the sealed plastic bag I used to keep it clean and dry.

I heard our phone ring several times, but I knew that Karen was far too preoccupied to answer it. The machine picked up, but I couldn't make out the message being left. It had to be Dottie, though. Her next step would be to drive the few blocks to our house.

As I approached the trapdoor, I could hear all kinds of moans and grunts. I stood up in the closet and surveyed the scene through the opening in the closet door. Carson was slamming Karen doggie-style and they were both getting very close. Then I saw him push as far as he could into Karen and hold her ass still as he emptied his nuts.

I was about ten feet, or so, behind him and I could actually see his balls contract as he filled my wife. Somehow, I knew my aim would be accurate as I raised the gun. Carson was groaning as he pumped his sperm into Karen.

The pellet hit his contracted nut sack with an audible 'whack'! He screamed and lunged forward, reflexively, I guess. Karen's head was banged against the headboard with considerable force. Man! That had to hurt! Still, it would pale in comparison to the pain Carson was feeling. As I pulled the door down over the opening, I saw him jumping around screaming and holding his balls.

I put the gun back quickly, crawled outside, replaced the panel, and strolled across the back yard. I continued until I hit the next street and walked a few blocks to a local pub. I felt I had earned a few beers. How many guys can shoot like that?

As I sipped a cold Yengling, I considered the havoc that was taking place a few short blocks away. It was a little after five when my cell phone rang. It was Dottie.

"This is Dottie. Where are you, Tim?" she asked.

"We are driving through Connecticut, on 84," I lied. "Why do you ask?"

"I am at Wilson Hospital. Carson is undergoing emergency surgery and Karen is in the emergency room," answered Dottie.

"The hell you say!" I blurted. I was actually surprised. "Were they in a car accident?"

"No, it is more complicated than that. I really can't tell you much over the phone. They just want to observe Karen for a few hours to be sure she doesn't go into a coma or something. She has a concussion. I just wanted you to know where she was so you don't panic when you get home."

"Thanks, Dottie. I wouldn't normally panic because Karen wasn't home, though. I appreciate you calling me. I'll stop at the house to get my car and I'll be over to the hospital."

"You will see Carson's car in your driveway. It is all smashed up and the tires are flattened, but I think you can get around it," Dottie revealed.

"Okay. That sounds bad," I told her. "If I have to, I'll just drive Karen's car."

"Her car isn't there, Tim. It is a long story and I don't want to tell it over the phone. This is just a heads-up and I will talk to you when you get here."

I hung up and considered the situation. I had been really upset, but I didn't expect to put them in the hospital! I wondered if the chickens would come home to roost with me on this one. As darkness descended, I walked back home.

There were cars slowing down at my place, and more than a few people walking past the house. They were all rubbernecking at the mess in my driveway. I left the sidewalk and cut through some back yards and entered the house through the back door.

I went into the bedroom to change. It appeared that a riot had taken place. The lamp and table were knocked over. Clothes were flung around there was some blood on the carpet. I realized I must have clipped a bleeder, a vein, in Carson's old ball sack. I grinned as I remembered him dancing around the room, clutching his gonads and screaming. He was fucking my wife, and as far as I was concerned, he was fucking me as well. He was lucky I didn't have a .38 down there. When a man decides to cuckold another man, he had better be prepared to pay the piper.

I arrived at the hospital around 8:30 and went to the emergency room. My arrival was met with great pleasure, and relief, by the goddamn vultures that make out the bills! I spent another 15 minutes filling out forms and showing proof of insurance. Why the fuck is everything written in Spanish? This is the US and we speak English. It passes for English, at least.

I was finally taken in to see Karen. I was surprised at how pale she looked. She gave me a weak smile, then looked down at her hands as she fidgeted with her fingers.

"Are you okay, Karen?" I asked. "Are you in much pain?"

"I have a head-ache, Tim, but they are careful what they give me. They want to be sure my brain doesn't bleed or something. I am feeling better all the time," replied Karen.

"Did you happen to bring any clothes for me?" she asked. "I will be able to go home before too long."

"No, I didn't Karen. Can't you just wear whatever you had on when you came here?" I rather cruelly asked. "Where are those clothes?"

"I...I, I wasn't wearing any clothes. I must have fallen and banged my head in the shower. The last thing I remember was getting ready to step into the tub. Then they were loading me in the ambulance and I didn't have any clothes on," she cried. "It has been very embarrassing."

"I bet it has been," I agreed. "What the hell happened to Carson's car? Why is it in our driveway? Where is yours? How did our bedroom get so messed up? What happened to Carson?"

"I am having difficulty recalling anything, Tim. Please don't ask me any more questions," pleaded Karen. "It hurts my head and makes me nauseous."

"Me, too. Me, too" I agreed as my irritation at her came near the surface. "Why don't you just rest for a while? I'll be waiting to take you home when the doctors say you can leave."

With that, I turned and went looking for Dottie. I found her in the ICU. She gave me a grim smile when I approached her.

"He is doing much better, Tim. They had to remove his left testicle, but he is resting comfortably now. They said if he got through the night with no further complications, he would be moved to a regular room in the morning," whispered Dottie.

"Jesus! He lost a nut!" I blurted. "How did it happen?"

"We have not been able to get any reasonable explanations from Carson, or Karen," responded Dottie. "I received a phone call from a man that said he was a neighbor of yours and that someone was vandalizing Carson's car in your driveway. I tried calling Karen and there was no answer, so I left a quick message and drove over."

"When I got to your place, Carson was in his car. A motorist passing by had stopped and tried to help. The passer-by told me he saw Carson running around the car, naked and screaming. Then Carson jumped into the car and said he was going to drive to the hospital. The guy reached in and took the keys. He was apologetic, but he was afraid Carson was on drugs, or drunk. He knew Carson could not drive the car with all the tires flat," continued Dottie.

"I think he may have cut his scrotum on some of the glass on the seat. He was bleeding from several places on his back and butt," Dottie related. "We called the ambulance with my cell phone. Then I heard the guy that stopped to help Carson curse. I looked up and Karen was staggering around the driveway naked!"

"What the hell was going on?" I asked. "Did Karen say anything?"

"Nothing that made any sense, Tim," replied Karen. "She was holding her head and moaning. I got her to sit down. I felt a big bump on her head. I have been with Carson most of the time since we arrived. Have you talked to Karen?"

I told her how Karen wasn't able to remember much of anything. We went for a coffee and talked some more as waited.

"Carson had some story about how he and Karen went to a sushi bar for lunch and that he thinks they must have been given some bad seafood, or someone put some sort of drug in it," revealed Dottie.

"I've eaten a few things that disagreed with me, but I never lost a nut over it, Dottie," I stated. "Did he say how his car got smashed and how Karen banged her head, all because of sushi?"

"I think it sounds fishy, too. No pun intended," smiled Dottie weakly. "The only reason it is almost believable is I cannot come up with a better explanation. Their behavior was pretty strange. Maybe Carson smashed his car while in some kind of trance or something."

"You might have something there!" I agreed.

I was beginning to worry about my complicity in some serious shit. If Carson took the blame, it would help me dodge any legal ramifications! I had reacted in anger. I didn't regret it, especially if I could get away with it!

"Be sure to mention it to the police, if they ask," I advised. "I don't think there is a law against trashing your own vehicle."

We talked about an hour. Then, around ten, I was notified that they wanted to keep Karen all night for observation. I said good night to Dottie and left. I felt bad for her. She didn't deserve to be in the situation she was in, but neither did I. Well, perhaps a little bit. I did shoot Carson in the left nut.

I couldn't sleep, so I finished fixing the drain and put the tools away. I took my drill, the gun, and the hammer and dropped them into the Delaware River, like the villan in a dime store novel. I hadn't heard anything from the cops, but it seemed like I would. Then I cleaned up our bedroom and changed the linens on the bed. Finally, I readied the bed in the spare room and went to sleep.

I was still sleeping when the phone rang at 9AM. It was Karen.

"Tim? I can come home now," she told me. "Will you pick me up now? Bring some clothes for me, please."

I brought her home and helped her into the bedroom. She was still not walking too well. I got her into her pajamas and into bed. She slept most of the day.

Dottie called around noon and told me Carson was going to be okay. He would be getting discharged in a couple days. I gave it some thought and realized I didn't really give a rat's ass if he recovered, or bought the ranch. He was the worst kind of prick. After I hung up the phone, Karen called me.

"How is Carson? What happened to him?" she asked.

"No one seems to know what the hell happened, Karen," I answered. "Carson is going to recover, but he will be one nut short of a full set from now on."

I watched her to see how this news would go over. She simply closed her eyes and sobbed a little. Then she was asleep. Later that evening, I made some soup and fed it to Karen. Her color was much better and she talked a little more. The thing was; she didn't say anything. Nothing was said about how she and Carson got so fucked up.

"Are you going to come to bed soon, Tim?" she smiled. "I miss having you near me."

I could still see Carson pounding her ass and hear her telling him he could do anything he wanted with her. I knew it was not likely I would sleep in that room, or with Karen, ever again.

"No, I'm going to watch some TV," I told her. "Get some sleep. You will feel better tomorrow.

I turned out the light and went to the spare bedroom and fell asleep. The sun was up and Karen was standing next to my bed when I woke up. She appeared to be pretty well recovered.

"Why did you sleep in here, Tim?" she asked. "I wanted you to sleep with me."

"I think I'll sleep here for a few nights, Karen. You need to get your strength and memory back," I replied. "I don't want to crowd you."

Karen gave me a sad look and walked out of the room. I didn't even have the stomach to look at her, or talk with her. I think she somehow sensed it.

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