Vengeance

My wife Mary is a good looking woman considering that we recently celebrated our fortieth anniversary. True, she has a slight midriff problem as most women in their late fifties have, but she has other good qualities. Like her breast are still a mostly perky at a full C cup with perky nipples that still point outward instead of sagging. Then again her long strong legs that go all the way up to her wide hips and round ass are always worth watching as they go by.

After our kids were born she stayed home and took care of them. Although, as soon our Danny, the youngest, put his foot on the school bus step though, she started working again. Over the years she has put in enough years that she could work from home most days and only go in when they have a special project.

Where I am a computer tech that travels throughout the southeast, installing and training our users. This takes me away from home at least two nights if not a full week each month. It was great when I was younger and thinner. Between work and the job jar of projects, waiting for me at home, never bothered me. Now, with the extra weight of years eating out at buffets, all I seem to want to do is vegetate when I get home. This is not to say I am terribly over of weight, but I am not the trim 147 pounds of when we first met. I look more like a strong, broad shouldered, couch potato.

My sex drive has dropped some even though Mary's seems to have increased over the years. For some reason she always seems to be the one that initiates it. Usually I enjoy the play, but often I just roll over in bed and try sleep. She thinks I need my testosterone checked. I just feel that another hour of sleep would fix the problem. Eventually, she would give in and let me roll over without an argument.

We have been together for what seems to be forever. Everything, just going along as usual. The only surprise might be a new recipe that she had found on the internet or a shirt that she bought while I was on a trip. She did try to spice things up over the last couple of months by buying a couple of thin low necked shirts that were more of a bathing suit cover than a shirt. Then Spandex instead of jeans started mixing in with the shirts it got a bit more interesting. It still didn't ignite as much of a fire as she had hoped.

At sixty-one I was just not in shape enough to be trudging wires through the rafters for the computer systems. Putting in a full day at work was taking its toll and at the end of an eight hour day I was tired, much less a ten to twelve hour day when on the road. Our sex life was suffering because of it. A hug and a kiss before I flopped onto the couch was about all that I did any more. I did keep the job jar nearly empty, but that didn't waken the monster within.

She did keep up with the sexy outfits, and even go bra-less more often. This really took away any imagination as to what her breasts looked like with most of the shirts. The pants so tight showed off her long well shaped legs to such an immodest degree. Some days when I got home late, I could see that she must have been playing with herself because of her swelled labia causing a very hot, wet, camel toe.

One night when I went for my nightly kiss hello, I reached between her legs and let my finger drag between the moist folds of her pants. My finger got very wet even though she jumped back saying, "There will be none of that my tired man." It was then, that I realized my fifty-eight year old partner was not only wet, but she was going commando. I never thought about her wanting to go without wearing any underwear.

Smiling at her I raised my finger up to my lips and sticking out my tongue I licked it and said, "A little moist tonight." Her eyes went wide moments before she spun around and rushed back into the kitchen. I was going to tease her some more, but was dumb founded as I watched her in almost a panic rush off. I hadn't moved my hand from my face and looking at my finger noticed it was far more pungent than normal. She is always so clean and fresh smelling I started to wonder if she was okay.

The rest of the night was normal except she kept her distance and she didn't bother me for the little jobs she usually had. Which was fine for me because it was a good TV night. The next couple of nights her wardrobe had changed back to baggier shirts and jeans. For that matter it stayed that way right through until I left for my next trip a week later. As I was grabbing my bags to head off on my week long trip to Toccoa, Gerogia, Mary came out of the bedroom in one of her sexy tight outfits. She waved goodbye as she turned into the kitchen leaving me at the door without even a word.

Shaking my head I shout out, "See you Saturday, Sexy." I stand there for a few seconds and after getting no response I open the door and tossing my bag into the rental car and pull out. The system that I was installing was already in the car so a six hour drive was ahead of me. Stopping to get gas and food a little after eleven I give Mary a call. She doesn't answer, but that isn't unusual these cell phones only ring five times before going to voice mail. Usually she is away from her phone or on a call and will return my call later.

Getting to the store a couple of hours later I start the set up and work through until the system is up and running. Fortunately it is only a server a couple of printers credit card machines and one other terminal so fairly fast to set up. Hardest part was to run the cat5e cable from the DSL to our router next to the server so I can set up the IP addresses and port forwarding set up. Everything else has already been configured at the warehouse. With training set for tomorrow morning I finally get out at about seven. Heading for the hotel and dinner I give Mary another all. Again no answer.

Around ten at night I finally get a short call from her telling me she just laid down and wished me a good night before I could even ask how her day went the phone clicked. The rest of the week went like that. I normally talk to her at lunch, dinner, and before I hit the sack. This week the phone kept going to voice mail and when she finally did returned my calls she was tired and about to go to sleep. Not talking to me other than wishing me a good night. Never giving me a chance to tell her I should be home early because of how easy the install was going.

On Friday just before noon I was able to hit the road with my rental car for the ride home. With the time change and lack of road construction or accidents on the way home I was able to pull into the driveway around 4:30. Just about the same time she would be getting off her work computer at home. When I pulled up there was another car was in the driveway. One of her friends must have come over. The girls are probably going out as a last her-rah, figuring I wouldn't be home until tomorrow. Surprise Honey.

Dragging my suitcase out of the car I head for the door. Six hour drives are tiring no matter what one may think, and as usual, anxious to get home, I pushed through. So as I was fumbling with my suitcase and keys at the door, my mind wasn't comprehending what my ears were telling me. Finally getting the house keys out. I slide them into the lock. As I do, I peek through the entryway side windows to see who was there. All I see in the living room is my wife.

I smile as she is sitting on the couch naked waiting for me with one leg up and over the edge of the couch. Her clothes scattered in a heap on the floor. I am about to open the door when my I remember there is a car in the driveway. Looking back at the car I lean over to the other side window which the angle allows me to look further into the living room. There leaning over the record player is a man without any clothes rifling through my record collection. Funny part is I think what the hell is he doing with my records, and not what is he doing naked and fumbling through my records.

The answer is obvious as the first long notes of Chuck Mangione's, "Feels So Good" drift through the still closed door. Turning around to face my wife, I see my friend Steven swaying to the music as he moves toward my Mary. Wrong, his Mary, since as he comes closer to her with his cock swaying back and forth. She raises her other leg onto the couch, opening herself wide for his viewing pleasure. I can't believe what I am seeing. It is a distance from where I am to the couch, but even from here I can see her normal patch of pubic hair has been shaved smooth, and her labia is swelled, red, and glistening. It has obviously been well used.

Steve drops to his knees before her and grabbing her hips starts licking as she arcs her back with a moan loud enough to drown out the music. She is usually rather quiet, always trying to muffle her screams ever since our Donna was born, not wanting to wake her in the beginning. Then later not wanting her to hear. Our kids are gone now, and nobody can hear, so she must not care if she screams to her hearts, no, his ego's content.

Turning away I look out to the empty street. We live off the beaten path so only the occasional car drives by, and our neighbors homes are hidden from site by well placed hedges, and tree lines. My keys are still in the slot, much like his tongue is. I try to think of what to do. All I can do is see with my mind's eye her legs spread wide, with Steve lapping away as her hands reach out and hold his head in place. Do I go in and scream at them. What is the use. They would be caught, and they would know it, but would it change anything. After forty years could I really bring myself to divorce her?

As for Steve, I have known him even longer. Shaking my head trying to clear it, and calm myself as best I could before grabbing the door knob. It isn't easy when I hear her never ending screams of... what... passion... lust... desire? This is nuts, I head back to the rental car dragging my bag with me. Reaching for the handle I stay frozen for a long time. Eventually I let go and drag my bag behind me as I walk around the house. The sliding glass door slides open with only a whisper as the track wheels spin. Closing it quietly behind me I sneak over to the stairs. I don't know why I am trying to be so quiet they wouldn't be able to hear me over the music, her screams, and his grunts, anyway. Holding the bag to my chest I carefully climb the steps so as not to make any undo noise. The stair creaks every so often as I go up, but they were drowned out by the sound of the couch banging against the living room wall. At first I was worried about being heard, but by the sound of it he must have given up licking her, and must be fucking her good by now.

I have seen him in action years ago with his future wife at the time, as we had a foursome years ago. His cock is a little thinner than mine, but about the same length. It had a strange twist to the left which the girls seemed to enjoy because it touched uncommon ground. What they truly seemed to brag about is the fact that he could and always did pound away forever. He had amazing stamina. His wife always bragged that he could make her come dozens of times even after his own spurts. She would say that she still felt full after he pulled out because of how much he would leave inside of her. Says he would come six or seven times before finally pulling out.

Tossing my bag onto the bed I start pulling out the dirty clothes I wondered how long they had been seeing each other. It had been almost thirty years since we had our last foursome with them. After his wife got sick everything changed. She didn't feel like a woman any more after her mastectomy. The reconstructive surgery looked great, but that wasn't where the problem lay. Our kids were getting older and stayed up later, which kept us from looking for another couple.

Looking down, my dirty clothes were gone, and my bag was full. The music was still playing, but the accompanying screams have died down to random bits of conversation snippets from in the kitchen area. I zip the bag closed and walk over to the closet. As I grab the for the door grip to pull wide the folding doors I hear a gasp from Mary echo up the stairs along with the distinctive clatter of a chair tipping over. Resting my head against the doors, I close my eyes, and concentrate on breathing.

I don't even try to kid myself. If I were told we were going to hook up with Steve for a threesome I probably would have even gotten some steaks and we would have grilled out. Ever since his Debbie lost the battle with the second bout of cancer. What has it been almost two years now he has been a grieving widower. I would and have done anything I, we could to get him out of his nightmare. Lifting my head off the door it opened, with the thought, we would have done it together though.

Grabbing my suit bag I fill it with as many hanging clothes as will fit. Stuffing it to the point that it was almost impossible to zip it up, but did manage with some pushing and pulling. Slinging the suit bag over my shoulder and grabbing my bag I head downstairs. They are still in the kitchen with her kneeling behind the counter as he is face fucking her. All I can see is his hands on the top of her head as his back is to me and she is behind the edge of the island.

I don't bother saying anything as all I can think is my God they are still going strong. He does have one hell of an endurance. I continue on into the living room and open the front door. My house keys jingle as the door swings open. Looking down I just look at them sadly and go on out the door. Leaving the door open behind me I let them sway in the slot as I load up the rental car and climb in and slide the rental keys into the ignition. Pulling out of the drive I give the horn a quick double blast as I drive off.

I am not a church going, bible toting, Christian by any means, but I do believe in God and his word. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." My only wonder is how long it will take for them to find my keys. I guess I will find out if and when I get a phone call. Wonder if it will be while I am at my new hotel at bed time like the rest of the week.