Was She Cheating?

The nightly bath and bedtime story ritual for my sons, Brian 4 and Terry 3 was accomplished. My wife Laura and I usually alternate for the bath duties but I was almost always the requested story reader because according to the boys, my voice for creatures and monsters was more "realistic". Truth be told, I really liked story time because of the warmth and cozy togetherness lying in bed with my boys on each side of me with their undivided attention. Since neither boy could read it also gave me the opportunity to change the stories around to reflect on current events or the boys behavior that day. However they were bright kids, usually caught me in my deception and made me go back and read the story right. Tonight Terry had fallen asleep and Brian was nodding as well. It was so peaceful and comfortable that I closed my eyes for a second and didn't awaken for what turned out to be two hours. Being as gentle as possible, I got Brian into his own bed and I kissed both boys goodnight. I closed up Huckleberry Finn returning it to the kids bookshelf, turned out the light and made my way downstairs.

As I approached the first floor I noticed that the kitchen light was on and since I had turned it off when I shepherded the boys upstairs earlier this evening, I was curious. Laura was "out with the girls," a recently rekindled event. The girls were the office staff of the company Laura worked at before becoming a stay at home mom when the boys were babies. Recently she had returned to work part time and with that had come the monthly evenings out.

I wondered why I hadn't heard the garage door opening but then if there was water running or kids chattering I might not have picked it up. The question however was quickly answered when I heard the distinctive sounds of sobbing. As I entered the kitchen I was struck by a bizarre scene. Laura was seated at the table with an open bottle of Jack, a glass of partially consumed bourbon and what appeared to be a growing pile of used tissues. Her normally neatly arranged hair was messed and when she abruptly looked up at me I immediately knew that things were dramatically wrong. First of all she had that fuzzy expression of the obviously intoxicated, a state I had only rarely observed in my short hitter wife. The other striking thing was that her mascara and eye liner had run and together with her lipstick, was smeared haphazardly on her face.

As she looked up at me her eyes flooded with even more tears and she buried her head in her arms on the table and sobbed out loud. Perplexed with what was going on I did what most husbands would do. I pulled out another chair, sat next to her and put my hand on her back to rub it in a comforting way.

"What's going on Laura?"

"What happened?"

"Are you hurt?"

The last question elicited a shaking of her head in the negative but no change in the volume of tears. Helpless as what to do, I pulled her around in her chair so that I could draw her against me in a partial embrace. This only seemed to make her crying worse and so clueless, I stood up pulling her with me and with both arms, embraced her full length. For several long minutes I just held her until she got the tears under control.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

In a tiny slurred voice I elicited a "no,..... upset."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Head shake no.

It was then that I felt her burp followed by the smell of vomit and before I could do anything productive, she was throwing up on both of us. Too late to get out of the way I held on to her until she was done. She must have puked somewhere else before because the vomit wasn't that great in volume but it certainly was in smell. All I could think of now was the Master bathroom shower. Laura is a waif of a woman at less than a hundred pounds and I'm 220 so I just picked her up and got us up to the bathroom as quickly as I could.

I stood Laura up on unsteady legs as I undressed her. The first obvious thing was her blouse which I noted was missing most of its buttons. I tossed it into the shower where I intended to rinse it off before bagging it for the laundry. She was wearing a fancy VS bra that I had gotten for her on our five year anniversary. One of the straps was broken but the rear clasp was still done up and so I released her beautiful B cups which unfortunately were wet with vomit. Her skirt was next and then the rest of the VS set of garter belt, hose and thong. My polo shirt, jeans and underwear followed into the shower stall.

Next I adjusted the water, got Laura rinsed off and then with her seated on the floor of the stall, I directed the flow over her head. The former residents of our house had had a large dog and had a hose attachment in the stall to wash Fido. I used that to rinse off our clothes while monitoring Laura's state.

After a good long time in the shower I got her up onto slightly steadier feet and used body wash to clean us both. Normally I love showering with my wife as it is a perfect lead in to love making sessions. That was not to be tonight due to her physical state and too many unanswered questions for me. Once dried off I sat her on the potty while I dealt with the wet clothes. Laura was semi comatose on the toilet but I did hear her pee so I dried her off, carried her to the bedroom and put her into her side of the master bed. I then finished dealing with the clothes, pulled on shorts and a polo shirt and went back to check on the wife. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully so I put a waste basket next to her head and went down to clean up the kitchen.

I put a couple cubes into the bourbon and capped up the bottle. Now to try to figure out what the fuck was going on. The obvious starting place was her phone and her recent life blood, the text app. She had changed her password so I tried a couple of birth years and was in. I quickly scanned through the most recent from tonight and found most were from the girls group asking if she got home OK in the car from the Club. That caused me to check the garage and sure enough her car was missing. That explained why I never heard the garage door opening. There was a recent text from a guy named Jeremy Parker, who apologized in case his attention to her had been "misunderstood."

Being a methodical kind of guy I went back a month in her mail and texts and found quite a dialogue about the club they would be attending for girls night and the relative hotness of the guys who had promised to be there. It seemed that the girls group now included several guys who either called on the wife's company or were salesmen for the same. Most were group messages but Laura and this guy Jeremy had a mildly flirtatious string of individual contacts for several weeks. There was nothing like an arranged date in the dialogue but it was clear they were both interested in meeting up for a dance or two. It seemed my wife had developed quite an interest in emulating Ginger Rogers.

When I got through the string of messages and emails I went back upstairs to check on Laura and the kids. All were sleeping peacefully and had kicked off their covers. When I pulled the sheet back over Laura for about the 10,000th time I admired what I had always believed to be the most perfectly proportioned body I had ever seen. Even after two kids she was gorgeous and as I slowly pulled up the sheet I noted that my cock had thickened and was expanding the front of my shorts. I then wondered in passing if our marriage would survive the next twenty four hours.

Needless to say I got little sleep that night. The next morning I shook Laura awake at 9:00 and she panicked when she saw the time.

"Oh my god I'm late for work."

"I called both of us in for personal days today. Your Mother has the kids and will get them to and from preschool. She will keep them until I give her a call."

"Does she know why?"

"Yes, I told her that you and I are going to get the bottom of what drove you get smashed with the girls and apparently act like a slut."

"Oh God why did you?"

"Why did you act like a slut? Laura, by the end of the day today we will either be working out the terms of our divorce or resolving whatever issues led you to act as you did last night."

"Where do you get that divorce talk. I know I had too much to drink but I can explain everything."

"Good, I can hardly wait to hear how the buttons got torn off your blouse and how the shoulder strap on your anniversary Victoria Secret bra got ripped. I'd also like an explanation as to why you were wearing the VS garter belt, thong and nylons to work. I have breakfast ready in the kitchen and I expect you down promptly and ready to explain things to me. Keep in mind that I have read your emails and texts on the family computer, your work laptop, your tablet and your phone. I'm looking forward to some explanations."

As I was about to leave the room I turned to her and added. "I put out some mouthwash in the bathroom. Your barf breath is really bad. There's also some aspirin in the medicine chest. Take it, you're going to need it."

Ten minutes later Laura joined me. She was wearing her favorite lounge wear, yoga pants which hide nothing and an oversized sweatshirt which hides everything. She also had that walking on eggshells oh do I have a headache look about her.

"There's toast, english muffins and bacon. Coffee and juice."

As expected she picked at the choices but settled on an old home remedy for a bad stomach, mustard toast. Yellow mustard on buttered toast is a great hangover killer. We sat in silence while she worked her way through two cups of coffee and then opened a 16 oz Propel to help her hydration. Normally she'd be reading her mail and texts on her iPhone but all her electronics were in a pile in front of me.

I waited for her to speak. Finally she looked over at me and said.

"Thanks for breakfast Honey. And thank you so much for cleaning me up last night. I don't remember much after the drinking started but I smelled the wet clothes and realized that I had been sick all over both of us and I'm so sorry. You've always taken such good care of me and the boys. I don't know what I'd do without you.

"Hopefully you won't be getting an answer to the question this morning."

Laura ignored my sarcasm and went on. " Obviously you know I was with the girls from work. We went to Carsons because they have that Wednesday night dance thing and you know how much I love to dance. Anyway, these guys kept sending drinks to us, I was in a party mood because I just got a big raise at work and I over indulged. It was weird though because one minute I was just high and having fun, the next I was blotto drunk on my ass. I must have danced a lot too because my feet still hurt from those heels I was wearing and I remember some kind of fight or altercation with a guy. Then nothing until someone was helping me up our front walk and opening the door with my keys."

"I found this note in my purse this morning."

Laura Wilson

We found your address in your purse and are bringing you home from our Club. Your car should be secure in our parking lot overnight and you may pick it up in the morning. My wife Claire will be driving you home because you had an excessive amount to drink. One of your dance partners was getting quite abusive and somehow your blouse was torn open. Frankly you were out of control and so my wife and I made the decision to remove you from our property and to make sure you got home safely. Your dance partner objected and our bouncer had to get physical with him.

You might want to seek some professional help.

Tony Carson

After I read the note I took the floor.

"Seems like the Carsons saved your ass. You owe them a big thank you."

Laura nodded and was silent.

"OK so here's what we know for sure. You went to Carsons to party with the girls and to dance with some hot guys. You got really wasted and was separated from a 'want-a be' Lothario by the bouncer. You ended up in such bad condition that the club owner's wife drove you home. Agreed."

Laura nodded her head in the affirmative.

"I obviously have a few questions. Let's start with who the fuck is Jeremy Parker and when did you start dating him?"

Laura looked up at me with a frightened look on her face.

"I told you, I read all your mail and texts."

"I'm not dating him, I'm married to you. Jeremy is a new guy in Sales and the girls encouraged me to flirt with him to get him to attend this weeks dance contest. The single girls are all hot for him."

"Not so with the married ladies?"

"Not me."

"Then why the texts flirting?"

"As I said the girls asked me to do it. I guess he said something to one of them about thinking I was sexy."

"So your only intent was to get him to attend?"

"Definitely."

"So he wasn't expecting to get lucky with Laura?"

"I don't know what he was thinking but I was just trying to get him there for the other girls."

"Sort of a public service you were performing."

No answer from Laura.

"Next, what's with the Victoria Secrets Anniversary underwear? I've only known you to put it on when you expect to be showing off or doing a strip tease for me. Why on a Wednesday with the girls?"

"I guess I put it on because it makes me feel sexy and the girls were having this contest and they were saying I was too old and straight laced to stand any chance of competing. I guess I was jealous and wanted to show them I wasn't chopped liver."

"Tell me more about the contest."

"It was silly. It somehow involved how many times you would be asked to dance and how hot the guy was that you danced with. I never completely understood the scoring system but after each dance the girls voted points to each other. I got drunk faster than I expected and ended up dancing a lot. I even might have won the contest because the guys kept coming back and then sort of passing me around. Honestly Bill I was in a fog and suddenly my blouse was torn and I was being groped and people were pushing and pulling and I was crying."

"Do you suppose someone slipped you some kind of drug?"

"I suppose it's possible but unless I'm tested there's no way to be sure."

"So that's water over the dam because it's probably too late to get tested now. However, I'm still troubled by all the flirty texts and emails and then you going out and deliberately rubbing your pussy up against a bunch of hard cocks. Sure doesn't sound like a faithful spouse. Sounds more like a bitch in heat looking to show off her fancy underwear and get gangbanged."

Laura was quiet for a moment and then said.

"I can see why you would think that but you have to believe me that I did not cheat on you and had no intention of cheating period. Now, the thing about rubbing up against guys needs explanation. You can talk to any even moderately attractive woman and they will tell you guys get hard ons while dancing, its just a fact of life. Since I've been twelve years old hardly a dance goes by when I don't feel a little acton going on in my partner's pants. This includes friends, relatives, customers and work colleagues. Now, with all these people I pull back and don't encourage them and they get the message. You my dear are the only one I deliberately hump on and get wet for."

"Until last night."

"I know it looks bad but I stupidly flirted to prove to those bitches at work that I was still a vital and sexy broad and not some dried up old hag. I admit that I was stupid to do what I did and then I compounded that stupidity by getting wasted and completely loosing control. I swear to you, that I didn't mean anything by my actions and will never put myself in that kind of position again.

"I'd also like to think that but I have another question."

"Anything."

"Before we had the boys we made love every night of the week. While we still have a fair frequency its not every night and one of the reasons you gave me for reducing our encounters was that you didn't like dribbling in your panties at work. You told me you were forced to wear panty liners every day because of that. Now you don't wear them any more. Right?"

"Sort of. I occasionally use one after my period but not that often."

From under the table I brought out the zip lock bag from the night before. Tossing it to her I asked.

"Then why was this in your thong last night? It's all water logged from the shower but I didn't see any evidence of menstrual blood."

"Simple, the thong is uncomfortable and rubs me wrong. The pad cushions the string that goes through my crotch."

Fuck I wanted to believe her. "One final thing."

"Your girls group seem to believe that rubbing up against guys with erections is permissible cause all guys get hard dancing with good looking chicks and as long as there is no penetration, it's not cheating. Does that pretty much sum up your group standard?"

"That's putting it crudely but I guess that's accurate."

"So then what if I joined a men's group whose purpose was to go out once a month, buy drinks for hot chicks and rub my hard on against their genitals while dancing. Would that be OK?"

Laura shook her head no.

"How about if your dad and I were out for a drink after bowling. Would it be OK to stop in and visit Carsons on girls night and watch you perform?

Now she was full out crying again. I handed her another Kleenex and she dried her eyes.

"I see your point Bill. I am so ashamed of what I did. It would kill me if you did anything like that. I would want to throw you out and take a baseball bat to you and all your friends. You would be cheating on me, our kids and our marriage and I would divorce your ass immediately. I guess that makes me a hypocrite by begging you not to do the same thing to me. Nevertheless, Oh God please don't throw me out. I did a stupid terrible thing and I can't tell you how incredibly sorry I am.

"I also need to say something about my complaints about dribbling your cum and having to wear pads. That was a big dumb mistake and I want to take it back. Will you please fill me up every day? I know it's sometimes messy and for part of the day my lady parts know that they have been exercised. Sometimes if we have been especially exuberant they may even ache a little but lover, but it's a wonderful reminder of your love and desire for me and this old body. I've been wanting to tell you that for a while now because big guy I love sex with you. I love you more than words can express and please can we take advantage of the rest of this day by letting me show you."

I let her think for a minute and then said.

"So next New Years when Sophia our buxom neighbor gets drunk and amorous as usual, I can't let her feel my hard on?

"Nope, it's all mine if you let me stay."

"Why don't you come over here and demonstrate your level of interest."

She flew around the table and dropped into my lap. With her arms around my neck she looked me straight in the eyes and said.

"Bill my love. I got involved in an incredibly dumb and juvenile game and then was taken advantage of. I deserve to be punished by you as only you know how. Please?"

"I'll think about it."

Since I am basically a trusting soul I met her gaze and said. "Laura I want to believe you. No more cock teasing the boys. And now I'd like to see if your parts still work."

"Yes my husband, please fill me up."

As we kissed tenderly my hands slid under her sweatshirt and found her bare breasts. She moaned into my mouth as I rolled her hard thrusting nipples. Our first fuck was on the breakfast table with her legs in the air and my pants on the floor. Act One was quick and sharply orgasmic in only minutes. Act Two was in our Master bed and was slow and deliberate and pleasurable as only sex between two long time loving people can be. Our ten years of history was thoroughly used to elicit every last iota of enjoyment from each other's bodies. Just before our last orgasm Laura again took my face in two hands and said passionately.