She didn’t even say bye. She walked toward her Jeep across the parking lot still on the cell phone. I parked at the opposite end, so I walked fast to my car in order to get home first. Despite hitting almost every traffic light, I made it home first. Funny thing, I didn’t have to race home to get there first since she wasn’t coming home. She spent the night at his apartment.
She didn’t answer her phone, and I try as I might I couldn’t get his last name from their work. It was perhaps the longest most agonizing night of my life. I knew where she was and what she was doing. She wasn’t upset at all about the day’s events. She was in la-la land. She thought nothing about me or even the kids who were staying at grandma’s for a few days. At around 2am, I got up and retrieved her stained white panties from behind the grand dresser. I closed my eyes and brought them to my face and smelled the betrayal. I was at my lowest, and yet I felt myself get aroused. I then pressed her sex stained panties against my face, reached into my boxers, and pleasured myself. You cannot imagine the confusion. My mind was twisted. After everything that went down, I pleasured myself with my cheating wife’s cum-stained panties pushed against my face. And, it didn’t take long. I fell asleep from exhaustion sometime after that humiliation.
At the time I had no idea of the kinds of humiliation in store for me. How could I have known? My arrogance prohibited me of ever considering that my wife might someday cheat on me. They both called in sick the next day. So, did I. She came with a police escort to remove two suitcases of clothes and toiletries. She changed from her clothes of two days into some shorts and flip flops, and in less than 15 minutes she was back in her Jeep.
The only things she left behind was a lump of dirty clothes next to the bedroom closet. She changed on the fly. I stared at those clothes for what seemed like forever. I got up and sure enough, her panties were still inside her dress slacks. I pulled them out of the pants, and immediately smelled the pungent odor of their sex. On top of that it was a hot day. and she likes her pants tight to conform to her body. These panties were stained far worse that the other panties. Either that or the contrast against the black panty material really highlighted the stains.
I sat on the foot of the bed with those stained panties in my hands staring straight ahead. The TV was on. I was too cried out to cry anymore. My head was pounding. With even less mental reservations than the first time, I pressed the damp crotch of those cum stained black panties to my face right on my nose. Any other time I would have been disgusted by that smell. This time it was different. In spite of the degradation and humiliation, I pleasured myself a couple of times.
Here I was with two pairs of my cheating wife’s sex stained panties in Zip-Loc bags by myself while my wife was living with her lover. While I was at work, she was at work in the same building as her boyfriend. I don’t know how I pulled myself through those couple of weeks. I did my best to not think about how things were going. I started working out, and I really focused on my kids.
Then, it happened. They officially broke up after 23 days. She had nowhere to go but back to our apartment. You’d think she would be humble and beg forgiveness. She came back defiant and nasty. She took out all of her relationship problems with Joe on me. By her choice she slept on the living room sofa. Sex of any kind was out of the question, and she never attempted to hide her phone calls to him. Talk about humiliation. She was leaving loving messages on his machine in front of me.
I don’t think they talked at work, and outside of once or twice, I don’t think he ever talked much to her on the home phone. Then one day I came home and she was arguing with him on the phone. When she saw me, she cut the call short, grabbed her keys, and took off without saying a word. I was pretty sure she was going to see him. After about a half an hour, I read his name on my caller ID. He was calling me. It made me wonder where she actually went. Curiosity got the better of me, so I answered the phone.
Joe told me who he was, and then had the audacity to say he broke things off with my wife out of respect to my kids and family. I mean, where was the respect when he was banging my wife for the past two or three months? He then said that my wife was parked outside his driveway and she refused to leave until she could talk to him. He made a comment about fatal attraction, said we was sorry, and said I needed to get her to leave.
I called her cell phone and told her of my conversation with Joe. She said a few choice words to me, and then hung up. A short while later she came home, and went straight to our bedroom and locked the door. We both went to work the next morning, and when I came home, I found out she quit her job. She finally wanted to talk.
She said she needed some time away to go and see her family back east. The next day, she took my pick up truck since it had lower mileage than her Jeep, and drove cross country. She called twice – once during a storm and the second time when she got to her mom’s house. I didn’t hear from her for almost two weeks. She called and said she was coming back.
When she got back, she was ready to straighten things out between us. She literally begged forgiveness. She was a wreck. She said she needed to devote her life to the kids and me. Funny thing happened. We changed roles. Suddenly, I was the one in control and demanding. She was crying and said she had nowhere to go, and didn’t want her kids to think bad of her. I sat on the couch, and she walked toward me in tears and in the most sincere voice said she was sorry and would do everything in her power to make things better if I would take her back. She got on her knees between my legs and rested her head on my lap. I couldn’t help it. It had been so long. I got hard.
She felt it, and then looked up at me for a second. She pulled my shorts down and gave me the best oral sex of my life. When she was done, she got up and went to the kitchen sink and spit. She swallowed every time for him when she was a cheating wife, yet even when she was desperate to get back together with me, she still spit. It was awkward for the rest of the day, and when we finally went to bed it got intense. I started asking all of the questions that before she refused to answer.
The first thing I asked her was how big was he? I mean, even though I realized it had nothing to do with the severity of the situation, and even though I knew no answer was really going to make me feel better, I wanted to know. She was uncomfortable with the question, but she quickly said, “About the same as you.” That answer didn’t work for me. I told her I needed her to be brutally honest with me if she really wanted to work things out. She asked why did I have to ask questions like that, and did I realize none of that mattered. I said I needed her to come clean and I needed closure. She made me turn off the lights and she sat up in the bed. My heart was pounding. My voice was getting raspy.
She said, “He is a little bigger than you, and a lot thicker.” I asked how much bigger. I could feel her discomfort, but I wasn’t going to cut her any slack. She said, “I don’t know. A little.” I started to get irritated, and she could sense it. She then said, “Let me show you.” She reached into my pants, and grabbed hold of my penis. I can’t explain it and I didn’t even think about it at the time, but I was rock hard, and there was a big wet spot at the front of my boxers. She gripped the upper shaft and said, “About this much from here (which was like about an inch).” She wrapped her fingers around my girth and then said, “My fingers are right about here when I am holding him (which her fingers touched her thumb when she held me, and was separated by about another inch of space when she held him).” Without my asking, she then commented, “I think he’s a little bigger because of he’s not circumsized. He has a lot more skin there than you do. The only thing I felt different when he was in me was his thickness. He was fatter down there than you.” I could hardly breathe. My mind was instantly painting an image of my wife doing things to his uncut dick, and him using his engorged fleshy dick on my wife. The thought of another man’s ugly uncut cock inside my wife was killing me.
My wife then took off her pj’s and climbed on top of me. I was done in maybe 15 seconds. It was that fast. She got up and went to use the bathroom and clean up. She came back, and before I could launch into more questions, she asked, “Can I suck you?” She went down on me even though I hadn’t cleaned myself off first. This was a first. After about a minute she looked up and asked, “Do you want me to swallow? Do you want that?” Pride is a bitch, because I told her it didn’t really matter. So, she didn’t swallow. She pulled me out of her mouth when I got close, and finished me off into her hands. She grabbed a towel and then washed her hands, and said she needed to get to bed. It was like that for almost a month. I kept asking her questions about their sexual encounters. She would tell me the stories and descriptions. Hearing my wife detail her infidelity in graphic terms is exactly what I asked for, but the other side of my mind kept asking why did I need the details? There’s no way this could help our marriage. I almost needed the humiliation of hearing what she did with him like a drug. That is, I needed that until Joe started calling my wife again.