You Never Noticed

Chapter 1

I sat at the desk in my home office, still watching the video clip that had arrived anonymously, as an attachment to an unexpected email earlier that morning. I had almost ignored the message, but the subject got my attention. It said: "Urgent: Your Wife is Cheating on You. This is not spam! Read this email!"

I ran my virus checker against it and made sure that the only thing attached was a link to a video. I must have already watched that clip over twenty times since then. It ended again, and I clicked the play icon, staring in disbelief as it restarted.

The video lasted thirty-one minutes. It was clear, concise and to the point, leaving no doubt about its meaning. My wife of fifteen years, Greta, was cheating on me with her boss, Hollister Avery. The video was captured in high definition with excellent audio quality so that I could make out every word, grunt and groan uttered by either party.

It looked like it was shot in a motel room using a still camera, probably hidden. Neither of the guilty parties acted as if they knew a camera recorded their every word and action. It was clear this was a well-rehearsed rendezvous. They both moved with the precision that comes from extensive practice.

The clip began with them arriving at 11:48 AM yesterday. They walked in and immediately disrobed, placing their clothes on the side table neatly. I couldn't help but notice that the last thing Greta took off was her wedding ring. Hollister stripped the covers off of the bed, then he and my naked wife climbed on, made out for a few seconds, then sucked and fucked. It culminated with him cumming inside my wife's vagina at exactly 12:12. Greta slipped off the bed and went to clean up, returning to dress at 12:18. Hollister reappeared and put his clothes back on. They kissed and walked to the door, with Hollister's hand on my wife's ass, at exactly 12:29.

They didn't speak much at all during the thirty-one minutes they were in the room. Mostly, they moaned and groaned. Greta called out to God a couple of times, then announced she was cumming, just before Hollister let out a loud groan and nutted inside her. Even as they cleaned up, they didn't speak much. The last thing Greta said before the video stopped was, "Do you think we have time to stop by Chick-fil-A on the way back to the office?"

I had heard about men who got turned on watching their wives fuck other men. I wasn't one of them. I watched the video in disgust and horror. Nothing about it was erotic or titillating in any way. I watched it repeatedly, not to satisfy some perverse kink, but to burn the images of my wife's deception into my brain, to memorize every movement, every sound, and every word.

I was about to watch it again when I heard the front door open, and I knew the kids had just come home from school. Instead, I quickly typed out a response to the unknown sender of the video. All I wrote was, "Do you know how long this has been going on?"

Two minutes later, my computer chimed, alerting me that I'd received a reply. "Two years," it said.

"Who are you?" I wrote back, waiting with nervous anticipation.

I could hear the girls in the kitchen puttering around. I needed to greet them and fix them a snack, but I couldn't move.

My computer chimed, and I jumped with a start. There was a reply. I clicked on it, and it said, "Daniella Avery, his wife. We should talk." She included her telephone number. I punched it into my cell phone as I stood and went to say hello to my children.

Chapter 2

I was sitting in the family room, sipping on my third glass of bourbon when I heard the garage door open. I glanced at my phone to check the time. 5:45. Greta was home on time, as usual.

Two minutes later, I heard the kitchen door open, followed by the clicking of Greta's heels on the tile floor, then the jangle of her keys as she dropped them on the kitchen table. I was seated in my recliner, with my back to her. The TV was off, as were all the lights. The sun wasn't down yet, but the room was fairly dark.

I could hear her approaching, as the tone of her clicking changed on the wood of the family room floor.

"Oh, Tom!" Greta said with surprise in her voice. "You're here. What are you doing sitting here in the dark? Where are the girls?"

"They're having a sleepover at the Miller's tonight," I replied stoically.

"Sleepover? On a school night? Why didn't you tell me? Are we going out or something?" She asked. "If so, give me a few minutes to change."

"No, we're not going out."

"Is something wrong? Are you ok? You're acting kind of weird."

I had so many things I wanted to say. I'd thought through most of the script for my speech, but now that the time was here to give it, I found the words leaving me.

"If it weren't for the girls, I wouldn't be here," I finally managed to say.

Greta sat down on the edge of the sofa next to me and picked up the half-empty glass of whiskey, sniffing it.

"Are you drunk? What are you talking about? Why are you sitting here, alone, in the dark drinking?"

"You must really find me pathetic," I said, refusing to look at her. "The poor, stupid husband."

"Tom, you're not stupid," Greta said with apparent sincerity. "You're one of the smartest men I know. What is going on? Did something happen with work today?"

"Pity. That's what you feel for me, isn't it." I took the drink from her hand and drank what was left then dropped the glass on the table with a thud.

"Tom, what are you talking about?" Greta looked scared. She probably suspected what was bothering me.

"Two fucking years," I replied, then chuckled. "Literally. I just want to know why."

I could see her shoulder slump, and her eyes lowered.

"How did you find out?"

"Does it matter?" I asked. "I see you're not even going to try to deny it or pretend it hasn't happened. No, 'It's not what you think.'"

Greta sighed then stood up. "If we're going to talk about this, I need a drink, too."

She picked up my glass, walked to our bar, took out a matching glass, and poured us each a stout two fingers of liquor. She offered me the glass, but I ignored her, so she left it on the table, then sat back down, taking a long sip.

"I won't insult you by denying it," she explained. "I don't know what you know or what you think you know, but if it's what I suspect, then it is true."

"That you've been a cheating slut, fucking your boss, behind my back, for the last two years, and acting like the perfect wife to my face."

My anger was so thick, you could feel it.

Greta frowned. "I don't know how you found out, but however it was, I'm sorry that you had to find out that way."

"So, you're not sorry that you have been fucking him? You're just sorry I found out."

"I'm sorry to hurt you. I want you to know that I have never stopped loving you."

I laughed when she said she loved me. "You say you love me, yet you betrayed me?" I asked. Did she believe what she was saying?

Greta seemed to ignore my question. "You are my soulmate and the person with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. This hasn't affected our marriage for two years and doesn't need to now."

"How can you say this hasn't affected our marriage? I can't believe you don't see how this has hurt us. I look at you and don't know who you are anymore."

"How has it hurt us, Tom? Answer me that."

I couldn't believe what she had asked me. Was she that delusional? "How has it hurt us? Are you fucking kidding me? It has destroyed us. Our marriage is over."

I was doing everything I could to control my temper. In all these years, I'd never yelled at Greta, and I didn't want to sink to that level. I was close to losing it, and the booze wasn't helping.

"It doesn't have to be over, Tom," Greta said with calm conviction. "That's your choice. I don't want it to be over. But, I wasn't asking about the state of our marriage at the moment. I was asking how has my having sex with Hollister ever hurt us in any way. Was I not always a good wife?"

"A good wife? A good wife doesn't fuck other men. A good wife doesn't break her vows!"

"Those vows are medieval, Tom," she said, shaking her head. "This is 2020. Concepts that were important, in the Dark Ages, like fidelity and cleaving only unto, they're antiquated morals that we've outgrown."

"Outgrown? You hadn't outgrown them when you swore before God, our families, and friends to honor them. It wasn't so long ago; what has changed to society in the last fifteen years to make fidelity irrelevant?"

"You're missing the point, Tom."

"What point is that, Greta?"

"The point is, have I ever neglected you or the girls in any way? Have I ever taken even one minute of our time and spent it with Hollister? Have I ever failed to do everything a wife should do? Have I ever not been a perfectly loving wife to you?"

"How would I know?" I answered her question with one of my own. "I don't know when you were with him. As far as I know, you were with him any time you weren't with us. There have been plenty of times you could have snuck off with your lover boy."

"First, he is not my lover boy; he is just my boss," she began, but I cut her off.

"Whom you fuck," I added.

Greta grimaced slightly. "Alright, yes, he is my boss, with whom I have sex. But, there is no love involved in it. So, I wouldn't call him my lover. He is..."

"A fuck buddy?"

"Do you have to be so vulgar?"

"That's what he is then, right? You don't make love, right? It's just fucking, and there are no feelings involved. So, that makes him your fuck buddy."

"Tom, try to be mature about this."

"Oh, so you have to insult me on top of betraying me. Great."

"I'm not insulting you, but you need to stop with the insults, vulgarity, and profanity and behave like an adult if we want to get through this peacefully."

"Who said I want to get through this peacefully? I want to beat the shit out of your asshat of a boss and sue the fuck out of your company, which allows their managers to have sex with their direct reports. Is that enough profanity for you, you fucking whore?"

"Tom, the company has nothing to do with Hollister and my relationship," Greta said with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, so it's more than fuck buddies; you have a 'relationship', now," I stressed the word, making sure she heard it.

"Ok, so that was a poor choice of words. Honey..."

"Don't call me that."

Greta sighed again. "Ok, Tom, I swear to you, on the life of our daughters, the only times I ever had sex with Hollister was during our lunch breaks. I never stayed late to be with him sexually. I never went out to dinner or drinks or anything with him. I always came home to you on time. I never took trips with him. I never snuck out to meet him. I had no desire to. The thing I have with him is purely something separate from what I have here, at home, with you."

"Assuming I believe you, so what? You want a medal for NOT fucking him more than at lunch?"

"No, of course, not. I'm just trying to get you to understand that I never took time away from you and gave it to Hollister. I never neglected you or the kids for him or anyone else. This has been going on, as you said, for two years. Did you ever have any reason to suspect I was cheating on you?"

"No."

"Right, because you were always my lover, my husband, my soulmate, and the only man in my life."

I chuckled. "Only man in your life? What is Hollister a tranny?"

"No, I mean other than being my boss, he plays no role in my life whatsoever."

"Except for fucking you."

"Yes, well, there is that, but I never took it outside of work. It's part of my job."

"You were at a hotel fucking; that's outside of work! And how is spreading your legs for your boss part of your job description?"

"It isn't," Greta replied. "Hollister is a very busy and important man in our company. He has a lot of stress, and a part of my duties is to help him with his stress. So, I decided that one way I could help him was to have sex with him. It is not required of the job, but I feel it is an important aspect of it anyway."

"You decided?"

"Well, he made his desire very clear for a long time, but two years ago, when he was promoted to VP, I realized it was a way to help him, help the company and help us. Didn't you notice my bonuses went way up?"

"I didn't know it was from prostituting yourself."

"It isn't like that," Greta assured me. "You have to understand. Hollister's wife developed severe endometriosis, which makes it too painful for her to have sex. So, until I started having sex with him, Hollister had gone five years without sexual intimacy."

"Is that what he told you, or her?" I asked, scoffing at her comment.

"What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that maybe that was bullshit he fed you to get you to give in."

"It isn't like that."

"You keep saying that, but so far, I don't believe you. So, how often do you and Hollister get together and do this at lunch?"

For the first time, Greta seemed to blush. "Fairly frequently," she said ambiguously.

"What's that mean? Once a month?"

"No, more than that."

"Once a week?"

She didn't answer.

"Every day?" I asked, surprised.

"Not every day," she replied. "Sometimes, he has meetings, and we have to have lunch at the office."

"So, meetings notwithstanding, you go to a hotel and have sex?" I asked.

"He has a strong sex drive and needs it often," she explained.

"Well, I have to admit, from what I saw in the video," now it was her time to interrupt me.

"Video? You saw a video of us?"

"Yes, I did," I explained. "Shot today during your lunch break."

"I don't believe you!" She exclaimed. "You couldn't have a video from today."

"Did you go by Chick-fil-A on your way back or not?" I asked, reminding her of what she had asked Hollister as they left the hotel room.

Her mouth hung open. "H-how did you get that? Did you hire a private investigator? I would have seen the charges! How did you find out?"

"It doesn't matter how I found out," I told her. "Like I was saying, in the video I watched from today, there was nothing extraordinary about your fucking. He didn't seem all that incredible of a lover. His dick is smaller than mine. What's the attraction? Honestly, it looked pretty boring."

"He does well enough," Greta said. "But, honestly, sex with you has always been better."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Ok, I admit. It wasn't just about the job. It was also the excitement, the risk, the taboo nature of having sex with my boss; I don't know. As I said, I felt it was part of my duty, but I also did it for me. It was just something extra that I enjoyed. It's no different than going to the spa and getting a massage."

"Do you fuck the masseur too?"

"Of course, not."

"Then, it is not the same thing at all."

"I only mean to me it was like that. Another way to be pampered and indulged without hurting anybody."

"Why do you keep saying your fucking him hurts nobody? I'm hurt, goddammit!"

"Only because you found out, and your ego can't take it," she countered. "You're like a little boy in the sandbox who has a toy and doesn't want to share it."

"I'm not a child, Greta, and you're not a Tonka truck. You're my wife. I am not supposed to have to share you."

"But don't you see? You weren't sharing me. You have all of me. I'm here every day with you. I come home to you every day. I cook, I clean, I make love to you, I mother our children. I worship you in every way.

"As far as our sex life goes, I love sex with you! You're a wonderful lover. You're better than Hollister in all ways. We're happy! We've been happy for the entire two years. Nobody got hurt by it! Nobody needs to be hurt by it."

"If I'm so much better, then why do you fuck him?"

"Honey, you love the burgers at Kenny's, right?"

"Yes, you know that."

"But don't you also eat at Square Burger? And Smash Burger? And Liberty Burger? By your logic, you would only ever eat at Kenny's, but you don't. You want variety, even though the other places aren't as good as Kenny's."

"You're a WIFE, not a hamburger!"

"Yes, but haven't you ever wanted to have sex with another woman? Haven't you ever thought about what it would be like to do things with someone else?"

"Yes, but I would never act on it. I swore vows that I honor!"

"But you can! I don't care! If you want to fuck another woman, it's ok. Hell, if you want to fuck a lot of other women, that's fine too. So long as you do it the same way I have been, I'd have no problem with it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if you only had sex with another woman when I'm not around or available. As long as you are not taking time away from me, doing it when there's no way you and I could be doing something. Then, I don't care."

"You mean, if while you're at work, I bring some woman home and fuck her, you wouldn't care."

"No, I didn't say that. Don't bring the slut to my house and fuck her in my bed. I never once disrespected you that way. I never would. I only had sex with him someplace else."

"So that makes it ok?" I asked.

"What makes it ok is that I only did it away from here, on time when you and I could not be together, in a way that you shouldn't have ever suspected anything. What you don't know can't hurt you."

"But I do now, and it does hurt me."

"Again, because of your ego."

"How can you say that?"

"Did you know that I had sex with Hollister yesterday?"

"No."

"Were you hurt yesterday?"

"No, of course not."

"Exactly. I've been having sex with him almost every day at lunch for the past two years, and you NEVER noticed anything. You were oblivious to the truth, and you were happy. We were happy. It never hurt you. I was the perfect wife to you."

"Except for when you were fucking your boss and deceiving me."

"I never deceived you."

"You never told me."

"You never asked me."

"You hid it from me."

"You didn't need to know."

"I didn't need to know?? How the fuck did I not need to know."

"Because knowing only caused you pain. You didn't need to know, and we would have gone on perfectly happy, and everything would have been fine!"

"And you would have had your cake and eat it too."

"In a way, yes."

"And I would only get the crumbs."

"Crumbs? How can you say it was the crumbs? I gave you all of the quality time, the best time. I did everything you wanted, whenever you wanted. If anyone got crumbs, it was Hollister, not you. Never you."

"What I got was shit. Did you ever fuck him and then come home to me with his cum inside you?"

"Tom."

"I know he didn't use a condom. You cleaned up in the bathroom, but I don't think you took a shower. What did you do?"

"I always take a shower every night before bed," she explained. "If you ever wanted to get amorous before that, I'd always run and take a quick shower, douche and freshen up. I always want to be perfect for you."

"Are you going to stop fucking him now?"

"Are you going to divorce me?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I want you to go back in time and never do it in the first place."

"I can't do that; you know that."

"If I tell you I want you to stop, will you?"

"It's not that simple, Tom."

"Fuck, Greta. Don't you get it? It should be that simple. I'm your husband. If you want any chance of keeping this marriage, then you should stop. Period. End of story. If you continue fucking him, then you're choosing him and the mediocre sex you have with him over me, our children, our marriage, and our relationship."

"I would never choose him over you," she said, almost convincingly.

"So, you'll stop fucking him?"

"I didn't say that. Why can't you just accept the fact that you never noticed anything off in our marriage or relationship? Why can't you understand that my having sex with him made me a better wife for you? It made me value you more than ever before."