0 comments/ 35884 views/ 7 favorites Let the Punishment Fit the Crime By: Miyelo Ina I lay there on the bed, completely naked, feeling vulnerable and so embarrassed at being caught this way. I am lying on my back, my knees cocked up and spread open very wide. The phone is clutched tightly in my left hand, my right hand rubbing furiously at my slippery bare pussy. The look on your face is hardly readable. Part lust, part anger, part amusement at my obvious discomfort. "By all means, don't stop on my account," you say sternly. "But do tell your other lover goodbye." It is not a request but an order. "Yes Sir," I answer and hang up immediately without an explanation to the other person. You pull one of the hotel chairs to the end of the bed and sit, casually crossing your legs and making yourself comfortable. "Now, continue my show." I am trembling still, my lust not diminished at all, but actually enhanced by the shame I feel at being caught. I can look straight down between my knees and see your eyes burning back at me. "I can see by the flush of your skin that you aren't very far from orgasm. Push yourself there quickly but you may not cum until I give permission. Is that clear?" "Yes, Sir," I whisper, fearing how hard it will be to hold back. The sweetest torture I can imagine. "Now," you prompt. "Rub your clit. Let me hear you whimper for me." It only takes a minute or so before I reach a fever-pitch again. My fingers are so wet, I can feel the juices running out of me and down to my ass. "Please," I ask you, "I am close, I need to cum." I am so afraid you will tell me no. "Beg me," you tell me, relishing my discomfort. "Oh Sir, please! It hurts so much to hold back this way. Please may I cum?" "The pressure is uncomfortable?" your voice is a low growl, making chills on my skin. Making it more painful to hold back. My words are lost in imploring moans. "Put your arms behind your head," you tell me and I can barely believe what you're saying. It seems I can't take my hand away from my pussy. "Obey me now or I will walk out the door," you state very simply. The most punishment I've ever received was a blistering spanking when I came too fast, but today I know you are very serious. I disappointed you and let you down and you are not playing games with me. Drawing strength from the fire in your eyes, I stop rubbing the throbbing clit and put my arms behind my head, my fingers entwining and gripping. At the foot of the bed, you lean forward, but not near enough to touch me, only to examine. "What a beautiful little pussy," your words are smooth, your tone even. "So wet, so puffy with excitement. Once my sweet, obedient slave, and now just a common little slut." There is disgust in your voice and I am filled with shame. So much in fact that tears pool in my eyes. "I'm so sorry…" I begin to say but you cut me off. "I did not give you permission to speak to me, did I?" "No, Sir." "Then you be silent and endure my anger. You caused it, you will enjoy it." Your eyes roving over my skin does nothing to lessen my agony, it intensifies it. I can't help my hips moving up and down slightly, pumping to the same rhythm my fingers had played before. The need for release is so strong that my mind is cloudy and confused with it. "Stay still," you say. It is nearly impossible to do. I close my eyes and bite my lip, so afraid now of what will come. I hear you digging into the bag that you always bring to our meetings… you call it our toy bag. When you begin to speak again, I look at you and see you holding the nylon restraints. "What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for you, dear? Since it seems your arousal and need for orgasm grew out of control because I was a few minutes late." My cuffs clank on the bed as you drop them beside me and move down to my feet. "I don't deserve to cum," I tell him, knowing this is what you want to hear. My voice is low and sad. "No, you don't deserve to," you say as you loops the restraint around one of my ankles. It is tied to the leg of the bed and you tug it tightly and move to the other one. "But that is not how you will be punished." You secure the other ankle… leaving me spread-eagle and feeling very vulnerable. Next you move up to my left arm, still not looking at me while you talk. That hurts the most. "I have always believed that the punishment should fit the crime, and in this case, there is a much more fitting punishment." I want to ask you what you mean. My fear is growing into a knot in my stomach, but I know I can't speak until you tell me I can. But you only continue in silence now until both my wrists are cuffed tightly to the rails of the headboard. You pause for a moment to look down at me, naked, wide-eyed, completely at your mercy. When you shake your head, I can't stop the tears that pool in my eyes. You only turn away and reach into the bag again. This time you pull out a black scarf. Folded, it obscures my vision completely. You tie it around my head, taking away my primary sense. "Don't go anywhere," you laugh darkly. Straining for every sound, I hear you leave the room. At first I am terrified that you have left me alone completely, but then I realize you have only gone into the restroom. I hear you punching buttons on your cell phone. Though I can hear you speaking, the sound is too muffled to make out your words. You come back into the room and I hear one of the chairs being dragged across carpet, nearer to me. I feel your presence close, then feel your breath on my cheek. "You're trembling, little one," you observe, no discernible emotion in your voice. I trust you with my life but this tone coming from you is unnerving. "You know that I've never hurt you. I hope you trust me enough to know that I never will." "I do, Sir," I risk speaking. "I do." My voice has a tinge of panic around the edge. I know your next sentence will begin with "but". "But you know there are consequences for breaking my rules. And the consequences have to be such that you will remember them and never commit this offense again." "Yes, Sir." "That's all I'm going to say about the matter. It's all I want to hear you say now too. Just remember these things…your safe word, that I have your best interests in mind, and I am fully in control. If you call out for me, know that I will hear you." The implications behind your words were mind-numbing. As I lay in silence with nothing to occupy my mind but my fears, they are growing exponentially. I am not aware of the passing of time but when there is a loud knock at the door, I nearly scream in alarm. "Be calm, pet," you pat my forehead as you rise and move away from the bed. I find myself actually struggling at the restraints- the first time I have ever really done that in fear. I want to see who is coming in, I need to know! My struggles accomplish nothing. I can't see who's there but the room begins to feel full. The newcomers do not speak but I hear murmurs of appreciation as my body is inspected. I can feel their eyes on me. A hot blush covers all my skin and I almost miss the sounds of clothing being removed. There is no way to tell how many are here. When the first hands touch me, I fight down the urge to call out your name. If I say your name, will you come to me? If I beg you to make this stop, will you? If I shout out my safeword "red", will you send them all away, untie me and hold me tight? Or would you be even more disappointed in me, in my show of cowardice. I don't want to cause you more disappointment, it hurt me too much to put distance between us. I resolve to keep my mouth closed and to endure whatever you deem necessary to teach me my lesson. There are so many hands on me that I can't count them all as they begin to move. Hands on my face, my breasts, my stomach, my pussy, my thighs, even my feet. The sensations quickly become confusing as I feel a mouth kissing my neck, I feel someone sucking on my toes. One nipple is being pulled between finger and thumb and the other is being nipped with teeth. I cry out, trying to pull away but I can't move. Hands on my thighs pull my legs apart as far as the restraints will allow. A finger rubs across the bare lips there, immediately bringing a flood of wetness. Another hand opens those lips almost painfully wide and a tongue now runs down the slit. It becomes hard and presses inside the hole it finds. As it fucks me that way, there is a finger stroking the clit faster and faster. Despite the fear - or maybe even because of it - the sensations are wonderful. I arrive at my first orgasm just as someone presses a very hard cock to my lips. Knowing I am obeying my Master, I accept the cock and eagerly suck it. All the hands touching me now seem to blur into one wave of pleasure. I moan as a hand squeezes one breast roughly. Just as the orgasm subsides, the tongue is replaced by something much larger and much harder. The man slowly works it inside me and immediately begins to pump me harder than I've ever been fucked. Almost like a piston. It pushes me quickly to the next climax, causing me to suck the cock in my face even harder. Before I cum, I feel and taste hot semen shooting into the back of my throat. I swallow what I can and choke on the rest. There are tingling, tickling touches on my sides, my shoulders, all over my skin. I feel an almost continual shiver, not unpleasant at the beginning, but the repeated involuntary muscle contractions are beginning to hurt a little. I feel the man fucking me suddenly stiffen and press in so deeply that I gasp. He is filling up my pussy now, more hot cum inside me. I feel my thighs wet with it, his and my own, I know it is running down the crack to my ass. When he pulls out, I am lifted just a bit, enough to slide a thick pillow under me and lift my ass to be more accessible. My fear now is of being penetrated there. Except for Master's fingers, nothing has ever gone there. I am certain it will hurt more than I can stand. I don't have time to think of that further because someone is kissing me now. Soft lips, the scent of a light perfume. There are women here too? I have only been with a woman once and didn't really like it that much, but if that is what you want… She kisses me hard, pushing her tongue deep inside my mouth. I cannot help but kiss her back, sucking her tongue, sucking her lips and tasting the lipstick she wears. Someone is licking between my legs again, sucking on my clit, lapping up the cum that was left there. Maybe there are other submissives here? Again I cry out, feeling two fingers penetrate my pussy. It doesn't seem they are fucking me, they are merely spreading my wetness. In alarm, I realize they are pulling it down to my virgin asshole. I try to struggle but the hands all over me don't let me move at all. When the two fingers press slowly into me, I scream, but it is muffled by the girl's mouth. She kisses me long enough to take my breath away and then I feel something heavy indent the pillow on each side of my head. I smell her arousal, I feel her heat as she lowers a well-trimmed pussy onto my mouth. I don't want to lick her, I want to feel what's happening to my ass, it hurts so much and feels so good at the same time. The girl on my face grabs my hair and presses my face into her. She is wonderfully clean and already so very wet. Before I realize it, I am tasting her, licking her clit fast, feeling my third climax coming and wanting to make her cum with me. I am sent over the edge when both my nipples are pinched viciously. I cry out and feel the spasms all through my body and the girl clamps her knees hard against my head. Her own juices flood my face and drip slowly down my chin. Before she climbs off, the fingers are removed from my ass and another thick cock rams into my pussy. When the girl is gone, someone else begins to kiss me. A man this time, licking at my lips. Everything is starting to slide together into one feeling, I cannot tell one person from the next, or even one sensation from the next. Time has lost any meaning for me now. All I know is there seems to be a cock in my mouth, a cock in my pussy and teeth on my nipples at all times. The sounds of moans and grunts and my own occasional screams fill my ears. I have cum more times than I can count and it is very obvious the punishment you have in mind. Twice in all this I have your voice in my ear, checking to see if I'm okay. I want to tell you no, to make it all go away, but I can't let you down again. That thought is driven away as I feel a cock pressed against my anus. That last virginity is quickly taken away in a haze of pain and pleasure. It seems maybe all the fingers have loosened me there sufficiently so that I only cry once. The tears aren't so much from pain but because I had wanted you to be the first one to do that to me. Enjoyment quickly begins to fade now. Muscles throughout my body have begun to spasm and cramp. With each orgasm, my stomach feels as if I've done a thousand sit-ups. My clit is swollen and so sore, yet every time it is touched, I begin to cum again. My body is out of my control. I have been fucked so many times that I am raw and there seems to be no more moisture left to lubricate there, but still the assaults continue. My ass is burning as if the delicate tissues have been ripped. I want it to stop. I whimper and beg it to stop but a voice - your voice? - tells me that's not the way to stop it. At the point where I can bear no more, I scream your name. Before I feel you though, I find myself slipping away, taking the very last defense that a submissive has left. The ego's last attempt to save some of itself. Because so much of myself and my will has been stripped away now, I sink deep inside, to the very core of me, trying to find even a little bit left. There is none. There is nothing left of me, nothing but the peaceful darkness where I am floating now. Nothing here but the familiar silver rope that I can grab and wrap myself in - the silver cord that is my Master's voice. It is the only thing that will save me and bring me slowly back to the light. It is as if I hear you calling my name from a great distance. I am pulled to you through the nothingness until I begin to feel again, begrudgingly. I want to continue the warm floating but someone is touching me. A sore spot, sending nerve signals all the way to my confused brain. I only want it all to stop now. No more. I could not reach a climax again now even if I desired it, even if you commanded it. My body is limp, I am unable to control it at all. The only thing I can do is weakly whisper, "No." Still the hands are touching me. Your voice is here now, close and clear. "Little One, you can stop it. If it's too much, you know the word to say." I search my brain, hardly believing that such a word exists anymore. This torture has been going on for all eternity it seems. Was there ever anything before it? I shake my head, tears flowing again. It is obvious now to you that the breaking point has been reached. "Red," you whisper in my ear. "Do you remember 'red'?" Red lights, red signs, the color red. It makes things stop. You repeat the word again and finally through cracked, parched lips, I push the word out myself. "Red please!" I sob. I've never had to say that word before to you, but I've also never disobeyed so badly. As soon as it is out, all the hands immediately disappear. I am still so numb that I barely feel my feet being untied, barely know when the cuffs are off my hands. There is the sound of shuffling in the room but I pay it no mind because now I feel you on the bed beside me, lying full-length, pulling me tightly against your strong chest. With one hand cradling me, you pull the scarf off with the other. The room is dim now but still painfully bright to my eyes for a moment. I squint and blink until I can see again and it is your face I am looking into. "Are you okay?" you ask, brushing the sweat-damp hair away from my face. I nod, pressing myself closer against your body. "And did you learn anything from this tonight?" "Yes Sir," I whisper emphatically. I will never ever do anything to earn this again. "Good girl." Those are the words I live to hear and I know everything is right between us now. I begin to drift away again into more darkness. This time it is only much-needed sleep, safe in my Master's arms. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime AUTHORS NOTE: This is not a stroke story. It's an examination of how an affair can affect people's lives and how different people can react in different ways. If your looking for a quick mindless read, then this is not the story for you. I want to thank LadyCibelle for agreeing to edit this story. This was my first timing using an editor and her comments and graciousness made it worthwhile. I'm sure her suggestions helped to improve the story. As always, I look forward to reading your comments and criticisms. They can only help me get better as a writer. +++++++++++++++ I watched with sadness in my eyes as my wife Jean strode through the kitchen on the way to the garage. The night before, she had asked me with some anxiety if I could watch the kids so she could get away for a few hours. Her excuse was that things had been really hectic at work and she needed time by herself to unwind. I asked her if she had any plans and she told me no, she just wanted to get out of the house and spend some time by herself. Without hesitation I had agreed to her request secretly amused at her anxiety. At least she hadn't reached the point where she could lie to me easily. I knew what her plans were; she was heading out to meet her lover. As I watched her drive away, I pulled out my cell phone and hit speed dial. "Hi, it's me. " . . . "Yeah, she just left. Is everything set? Do you have a good view?" . . . "Great. Give me a call when they get there and you get the pictures. " . . . "Right. Hopefully, this will all be over with soon. Bye." I hung up my phone and scowled at the wall. For the umpteenth time, I wondered how things had turned to shit so quickly. Jean and I had been married for sixteen years and together for almost nineteen. Until recently, she had never given me reason to doubt her. She had been a loving wife, a wonderful companion and a great mother to our two kids. Now, I wasn't sure if our marriage would survive until our seventeenth anniversary. The thing that bothered me was I had no clue what caused the affair. We had not been fighting. I had reached a point in my career where the job did not control my life. Nor did we let the kids drive us apart. We spent a lot of time together doing thing we each enjoyed. We shared sports and hobbies and tried to get out at least once a month by ourselves for "date night". All told, I thought we had a strong happy marriage. I loved my wife and she couldn't claim that I was neglecting her. Our sex life remained pretty good too. We weren't wild, but so what. We never had been. Sexually, we were active and I always thought it was pleasurable for both of us. We worked together to make sure it never got boring or stale. We enjoyed a variety of positions and we both enjoyed giving and receiving oral sex. I tried to be a considerate lover. I was receptive to her needs and desires and didn't stint on foreplay or after sex cuddling. I always made sure she got her orgasms too. Hell, we still made love at least two or three times a week. From talking to some of my friends and co-workers, our sex life was above average. I had been over our life in my head a thousand times. What could have caused Jean to betray me like this? How could she look me in the eye and hide what was going on. How could she function normally around me? Her behavior hadn't shifted dramatically and she remained as affectionate and loving as ever. If it hadn't been for a small detail, I might never have discovered her affair. It had happened a couple of months ago. We had spent most of the night cuddled on the couch watching a movie playing around a little bit. When we went to bed, we were both ready to make love. Since it was a work night, I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary. We would have a nice, slow, leisurely screw and we would both have an enjoyable orgasm. Then we would fall asleep cuddled together. It started out just like I expected. Jean didn't even bother to change into her nightie; she just grabbed it and left it sitting on the nightstand before throwing back the covers to help me remove my boxers. We cuddled a little bit and I spent some time caressing every inch of her that I could reach. As she got more aroused, I moved in and started to rub her mound and finger her clit and slit. I wasn't trying to give her an orgasm yet; I just wanted her nice and moist. Sometimes it takes Jean a while to get off. I wanted to give Jean a head start before I entered her. When she started to huff, I shifted her onto her back and lifted her legs as I entered her from the side as we scissored our legs together. It's a favorite position of ours for long gentle fucks. From this position, I can easily reach her pussy and clit and can slide my hands up to capture both her tits as well. Slowly, we made love as we murmured our appreciation of what was going on. I had my thumb working on her clit thrumming it in counter point to my strokes. As she reached for her climax, she began to shudder and tighten up the muscles in her pussy. I sped up my strokes and as she gasped her release, I filled her with my load and grunted my satisfaction. That was when things got weird. Typically, when we make love like this, Jean will lie back and recover for a few minutes as we cuddle. I try to keep in her as long as possible. But that night, Jean moved almost immediately and moved down the bed to start to clean me off. The problem was that she had never done this for me before. For a few moments, I just laid back and enjoyed it. I was still sensitive and her tongue felt marvelous as she cleaned my shaft carefully of our mingled juices. But then I started to wonder what was going on? She had never done this for me before. When your wife comes up with a new trick in the sack after years of marriage, it does raise some flags. My suspicions grew when she moved back up to cuddle. I know my wife. When she surprises me with a "new treat" in bed, she reacts in a certain way. She gets all giggly and playful as she gauges my reaction. We had played that game before to our mutual enjoyment. But, not this time. She just cuddled into me like a thousand times before. This may have been new to me, but not for her. "Wow." I exclaimed she cradled her head into my arm. "Where did that come from?" "What do you mean?" She asked sleepily. "How did you come up with the idea to clean my cock off like that? It felt great." I responded curiously. I was watching her face carefully. I wanted to see her reaction. Jean's eyes widened and she flushed. She was reacting like she had just gotten caught doing something wrong. She looked away guiltily and stammered a response. "That. . ., oh . . .well . . . ah . . , one of the girls at work showed me a Cosmo article about tricks you can use to please your man. I thought I would try it. So, how did you like it?" Jean tried to shift into her flirty game mode, but we both could tell it was forced. I mumbled a reply and rolled over onto my side facing away from her. Suddenly, I didn't feel much like cuddling. Jean tensed and tried to snuggle up behind me but I didn't respond. After a few minutes she gave up trying, pulled away and put on her nightie. Jean realized she had made a mistake and I had caught it. I didn't call her on it, but inside, I was in turmoil. It hit me like a ton of bricks that something was going on. Neither of us got a lot of sleep that night. I don't know if it was her guilt, or just fear, but Jean tossed and turned for a long time before she finally fell into a restless sleep. As for me, I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a long time. I was replaying the events of the last few months to see if I could detect anything unusual. The longer I thought, the more things jumped out at me. There had been some changes, but they had been so gradual that I hadn't noticed them occurring. The occasional moods and unexplained moments of anxiety on Jean's part that I had ignored or explained away. Her clothing was definitely a little sexier. Her skirts and tops were a bit tighter and skimpier. Her bras and panties had also gotten slightly racier and the new nightgown she had gotten was sexy as hell. It might have just been the change to a spring wardrobe, or they could have been changes made for me, but I couldn't be sure. I was suspicious, but I had nothing concrete to go on. Hell, I didn't even have enough to confront her. I had a good handle on the finances and I hadn't seen any new extraordinary expenses. Her work hours hadn't changed and we were spending the same amount of time together. If she was having an affair, it wasn't really taking her away from the house. I couldn't see where she had had the opportunity. Nevertheless, because of her reaction, I suspected something was up. I decided to do some checking. I felt a little guilty for not trusting her, but justified it by telling myself that checking was the only way I could get rid of my fears. I knew that if I didn't get an answer, my fears and mistrust might destroy our happiness regardless of what was really happening. The next morning, I did a cursory search of her purse and our bedroom while she was in the shower. I was looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing turned up. No condoms or unexpected sex toys; No slinky new lingerie that she hadn't worn for me; No receipts or matchbooks from unknown bars or hotels; No mysterious notes from her lover; Hell, even her cell phone log turned up empty. I was beginning to think that I was imagining things. But I decided to check one other thing. A few years earlier, we had bought our two kids personal computers for their bedrooms and set up a home network. Jean had commandeered the computer in the bedroom and I used my laptop or the computer in the study. So we each had our own primary computer that we used. When we got the kid's computers I had invested in a snoop program. As concerned parents we wanted a method to monitor the kids' internet usage. Through the program, I had the ability to monitor and track the use of any computer on the network. I was the computer geek in our family and I had set it up. Jean had the ability to access the kid's usage from her computer, but the program itself resided on my computer. As far as Jean knew, the only thing the program did was provide us with a copy of the kid's internet history. That was the only portion of the program I turned on. What she didn't know was that the program had other features that I now intended to use. The program could be set up to log every key stroke and to capture emails on network computers. I was going to use the program to monitor Jean. Jean was an emergency room nurse and her computer usage at work was strictly limited to business. She couldn't even access the internet from work. So her computer at home was her interface with the world and she would often spend an hour or two each night checking her email and browsing the web. Before going to work that morning, I went into the study to reset the parameters of the snoop program. I left the tracking of the kids' computers alone, but had the program also log and capture every keystroke on the network as well as record every email sent or accessed. These results were routed to an encrypted file that I could access through my laptop. Things were a little frosty that morning. I wasn't rude to Jean, but I was preoccupied with my suspicions. Jean watched me anxiously. Even the kids noticed the tension between us. For the first time in our marriage, I was glad to escape the house and get to work. Jean's schedule gave her about a half an hour at home alone in the morning after I left for work and the kids left for school. If Jean had been spooked enough last night, I was thinking that she might take the chance to email or phone her lover. I was planning on checking her emails and getting another look at her phone log that evening. Hopefully, nothing would show up and I could put my fears to rest. That evening was parent hell. The family was in crisis mode as our daughter raced to finish a school project and our son had a ton of homework he couldn't understand. So, Jean and I didn't have to interact too much. I was helping our son while Jean raced around picking up the supplies our daughter forgot to tell us about. It was ten o'clock by the time I finally had a chance to escape to the study to check the computer while Jean helped my daughter with the finishing touches on her sugar cube diorama of The Coliseum. Unfortunately, I hit the pay dirt I didn't really want to find. That morning, Jean had signed on to an email account "dreamyjean@yurmail.com" that I knew nothing about. Apparently, this email account was her private conduit to her lover. The snoop program gave me her password and I signed on to check it out. It was empty. She had deleted everything that she had received and that she had sent. When I checked the address book for the account, I got another surprise. There was only one email address listed with no personal data. The address was for bm37@yurmail.com. This address was not one with which I was familiar. Closing out of the email program, I checked the snoop log to see if it had captured any emails. I only found two on the dreamyjean account. The first was an email that Jean had written that morning. It was short and to the point: "Bert, I can't do this anymore. Hal's getting suspicious. I don't want to lose him. I'm not going to risk ruining my marriage for you." I was numb. Her email left no question that she had been involved with someone else. I just didn't know the details or for how long. But at least now I knew who "bm37" was. I only knew one guy named Bert and coincidentally his last name started with the letter M. I had discovered the asshole that had poached on my wife. The name of the asshole screwing my wife was Bert Morgan. She was having an affair with the husband of my co-worker Kay. Kay was still Kay Adams when she started to work in my office about eight years ago after the death of her first husband. About five years ago she had married Bert Morgan. The office rumor mill suspected that Bert had gotten to her while she was still grieving her first husband. Kay was a few years younger than I and took a lot of kidding for being the office baby at 35. She was a great co-worker and a lot of fun to be around. We had worked together on a number of projects and she was one of my closest friends at the office. In fact, she and Bert had been over for a barbecue just a few weeks earlier. If I hadn't seen the email, I would never have suspected Bert Morgan as the guy Jean was seeing on the side. He just didn't seem like her type. Because Kay and I were friends, the four of us did socialize occasionally. The only reason we didn't socialize more was Bert. To put it bluntly, Bert was an obnoxious bastard that I barely tolerated for Kay's sake. It's not that I was rude to him or anything. I just didn't like him and didn't make much effort to hide it. When we got together, I tried to keep a polite distance, but we all knew I wished that he wasn't there. I had never been able to understand what Kay saw in the guy. Now, it seems he had gotten to my wife too. Bert Morgan was the type of guy I always loathed. When I first met him, we had played golf together a few times. I soon discovered that I couldn't stand his jokes, his bragging or his attitude. He was obnoxious and rude to the women that we saw and didn't respect anyone but himself. He was your classic self-absorbed frat rat who laughingly would brag about his affairs. He openly admitted that his rule for dealing with women was the four "F's". You know, "Find them, feel them; fuck them and forget them." The only reason I had never told Kay about his bragging was because I thought he was full of shit. I was wrong. I failed to recognize how slimy he really was. I had assumed he was blowing smoke because I couldn't see how any woman could get past his attitude. I was one of the people who believed that he had only gotten Kay to marry him because she was vulnerable after the death of her first husband. But that bastard was a predator. Since I avoided him as much as possible, I had never focused on how his demeanor changed when he was around a woman he wanted to impress. When he was after a woman, he could be as charming as hell. His return email to Jean showed me what I was dealing with. It was complete bullshit; full of flowery language and fake sympathy for her anxiety and concerns. But it all boiled down to one thing. He wasn't going to accept her answer that it was over. He was going to work on her; try to change her mind. He claimed to understand her concerns, but suggested that she wait a while before making her decision. Maybe they could just "cool it" for a while until my suspicions went away. Then they could decide together what to do once it was safe. He didn't want to lose the special connection that they had made. When I went to bed that night, I was angry. Jean tried to cuddle up to me, but I wouldn't let her. I couldn't stand to touch her or for her to touch me. I told her curtly that I wasn't in the mood and deliberately turned my back to her. When she tried to curl up around me, I pulled away and told her no. She stiffened and moved back across the bed. Once again, both of us had a restless night. My mind was going a mile a minute. I had to decide how to respond. Hell, first I had to decide what I wanted the outcome to be. I was shocked and hurt to discover her affair. I was angry with her and felt betrayed, but I was conflicted. Jean had been the love of my life for a long time and I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. Was there any way I could get over what had happened and forgive her? I didn't know whether to pack my bags and move out or confront her and try to work things out. There were some things that I had discovered that bothered me a lot. The existence of the private email account told me that this wasn't just a fling, but a full-blown pre-meditated affair. But when and how had it started; more importantly, why? I didn't know enough about what was going on. I needed more information. I knew that she had been having an affair, but I needed to get the details before I was ready to decide what to do. I thought about confronting her, demanding answers, but rejected the idea. I wasn't ready to trust that Jean would tell me the unvarnished truth. I was sure she would confess when confronted, but would that be enough to overcome my doubts about her? All I would end up with is tears and pleas for forgiveness. Would I ever really know if she really regretted her actions or just getting caught? Would I be able to tell if she really loved me or if she just didn't want to lose the security of our marriage? No, I wasn't ready to accuse her just yet. I needed to find out more. As the night went on, I made some decisions. I wanted to teach Jean and Bert a lesson that they wouldn't forget. They had to learn the consequences of having an affair. I needed this for my own self-respect regardless of whether my marriage would survive. I also needed to talk to Kay. This affair affected both of our marriages. I wanted to let her know what was going on and maybe coordinate our responses. Besides, she might be able to help me get the details I wanted. One thing I was sure of. There was no way that I was going to allow Bert to ever sleep with Jean again, at least not while we were married. Now that I knew what was going on, I was sure I could figure out ways to stop them from meeting. I may not have been ready to confront her, but I wasn't going to sit by and let her continue the affair either. Fortunately, from Jean's email, it looked like she was spooked and was intending to end her extra curricular activities. But, I wasn't going to let up my vigilance. Bert was still on the prowl and I just knew he would keep sniffing after her. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime I'll admit, I was curious about how Jean would react now that she knew I was suspicious. I was hoping that her guilt would make her confess, but I wasn't overly confident. Jean had never been that good in admitting when she was wrong. It was far more likely that she would try to make it up to me in other ways. My major worry was whether Bert could convince her to re-start the affair as her anxiety faded. Bert was going to keep working at her to get back together. She had gotten a scare and she knew that I was suspicious. But had the scare taught her enough of a lesson? If I didn't confront her, would she think that she got away with it? How would she react as her "close call" faded into memory? I knew that I had to keep my eye on her. Jean was pretty smart and could be sneaky when she wanted too. By all indications, the "yurmail" account had been set up to create a private link to Bert that I wouldn't know about. But, I had an ace in the hole that she did not know about, the snoop program. I could now monitor her contacts with Bert. As long as she didn't know I was aware of the account and had gained the ability to read her emails, I had the edge over her. She wouldn't use her cell phone because she knew I had access to the phone logs. The home phone had the same problem and the work phone was too public. If she wanted to keep in touch with Bert, this would be the method that she used. The next morning, I continued giving Jean the cold shoulder. I wanted her thinking about how her actions had affected our relationship. I hurried through breakfast and left for work early. I deliberately ignored her effort to kiss me good bye and brushed by her with a curt nod. As my car left the driveway, I could see her still standing in the doorway with unshed tears glistening in her eyes. I smiled a little in satisfaction. The lessons had started. Work that morning was busy with meetings on planning a new project. At least the work kept me from obsessing over Jean. Finally, just before lunch, I broke free and stopped by Kay's desk. "Kay, are you available to go to lunch today? I have to talk to you about something." "Let me check my social calendar," she said with a smile. It was a running joke. Kay was notorious for her habit of eating at her desk and working through lunch. "You're in luck, I just had a cancellation. To what do I owe the honor?" I hemmed and hawed for a moment unwilling to talk about it in the office. "It's personal and I don't want to talk about here, okay?" I beseeched. Kay looked at me curiously and nodded. She grabbed her coat and let the receptionist know she was going out. We walked out of the building in silence. She followed my lead as I walked to a nearby restaurant. I didn't want any of our co-workers to hear what was going on. After we had ordered, she broke her silence and questioned me. "Okay, Hal, what's going on? I've never seen you act like this before." I took a deep breath and looked at her sadly. "I don't know any good way to tell you this. Last night I found out that Jean and Bert are having an affair." Her response was not what I expected. There was none of the surprise or shock I had gone through. The only reaction was anger and resolve. Her lips tightened and the anger flashed in her eyes as she stared at me coolly for a long minute. "Are you sure?" She asked curtly. I nodded and told her everything. About the blow job and the shock it gave me. The yurmail account with Bert as the only invitee. I had printed out the emails that I had found and gave her copies. As she stared at them tears glistened in her eyes and began to track slowly down her cheeks. "That fucking bastard." She whispered coldly. "He promised me that it would never happen again." As my eyebrows shot up in surprise, she grated. "I caught him in his office three years ago with his hands up the skirt of his secretary. He swore that it wasn't what I thought. He said that they had been flirting a little and they just got carried away. He swore that nothing else would have happened and he never would have fucked her. "He swore that they weren't having an affair. He told me that he would never cheat on me. Like an idiot I believed him when he told me that I would never have reason to doubt him again. I'm gonna kill that bastard!" As Kay spoke, she got more and more worked up. By the time she finished, her voice was rising and the people at the next table were beginning to stare. Her fists were clenching and she looked like she was ready to start throwing things. What was worse, she was eyeing me like I was her next target. In an effort to avoid a scene, I raised my hands in supplication and pointed towards the waitress who was approaching with our food. With an effort, Kay fought for control and sat there breathing deeply until the waitress left. Picking up her fork, she stabbed viciously at her salad and skewered a tomato. "So what excuse did your slut of wife come up with?" She asked bitterly. I shifted uncomfortably and admitted. "I haven't confronted her yet." At Kay's look of surprise, I explained the reasons why I had held off on confronting Jean. How I was afraid that I could not trust or believe her if her confession was forced by my action. I explained why I wanted more information. "Don't tell me you are thinking of forgiving her," she spat. "I don't know." I said glumly. "I'm still figuring out what to do. I don't want to throw away sixteen years of marriage before I know exactly what is going on. "But, I have to do something." I continued. "I'm not just going to forget about it. If she is cheating on me, I need to know why and for how long. She's going to have to earn her forgiveness. She needs to be taught a lesson. I just don't know how to do it yet. For now, I just want to find out what is going on." Kay snorted. "Good luck! I know exactly what I'm going to do. As soon I get home tonight that bastard is out of my life. As far as I'm concerned, my marriage is over. I don't care what excuse he might come up with. This is the last straw. He's history." Kay's words struck me hard. If she confronted Bert about the affair and threw him out, Jean was bound to find out. Then, I'd be stuck in the cycle of tears and "I'm so sorry" that I was trying to avoid. "Kay, I have a really big favor to ask," I started hesitantly. "I can't stop you from confronting Bert, but is there anyway you might agree to hold off for a while? I need your help. If you tell him you know about his affair with Jean, it's going to get back to Jean and I'm never going to know whether I can trust her. I was hoping that we might be able to work together to find out what is happening." As Kay looked at me like I was crazy, I hastened to continue. "Look, I'm not saying we should pretend that nothing happened. I'm not going to allow the affair to go on. I'll kill that bastard if he ever lays his hands on Jean again. But, I want to get some more facts and maybe we can come up with some way to teach them both a lesson. "We need to get our ducks in order before we decide what to do. Let's find out what is going on. Then when the time comes we can get them good. Besides, this will give you a chance to make plans and protect yourself. It will give you a chance to make sure your finances are protected before he knows what is going on." I picked up the email and waived at her. "Look, I'm positive that they have had an affair, but, what if they claim nothing happened? I don't know if we have enough to prove it. Don't you think we might want to get some more evidence before we throw it up in their faces? If this is all we have, they might be able to come up with some bullshit explanation. All I'm asking for is your help in getting the evidence we both need." Kay looked at me flatly. "How", she demanded. "Do you have a home computer?" I asked. At her nod, I took out the copy of the snoop program I had burned and pushed it across the table. "This is how I got Jean's emails. I can show you how to install it on your system so you will have access to everything he does including all of his passwords. You'll even be able to find out if he has any hidden stuff on there. "Did you know about this email account he used?" When Kay shook her head, I went on. "I think this message was written from his work computer, but it's a third party account. If he ever accesses it from your home then we have full access to it. It won't matter where he writes the emails, we can get them directly. Jean's a fanatic about deleting mail once it is received so I couldn't check out any of the old messages. I'm hoping he's saved some of them. "Kay, if you help me with this, I promise you, I'll help you anyway I can to get back at Bert. God knows I want to get some revenge on him too." I pleaded. Kay still looked unconvinced and shrugged noncommittally. I wanted to continue my sell job, but we were late getting back to work. As I threw some money on the table for the bill, I made a final plea. "Just promise me you'll think about it, Okay? I really need your help." Kay reluctantly nodded and we headed back to the office. As much as I wanted to press her for an answer, I knew that I'd be better off to give her some space. Needless to say, it was not a productive afternoon. Just before closing time, Kay came into my office and closed the door. "You promise you'll help me get evidence on Bert and help me get back at him?" She queried. At my assent, she nodded decisively and said. "Alright, let's do it. I'll help you with Jean and you'll help me with Bert. I guess I can hold off on throwing him out for a little while." She laughed bitterly. "It's not like he's paying much attention to me anyway. I don't want to touch that bastard, but I can put up with it for a little while if necessary. You're right, I do need better evidence that he is cheating on me." Kay grinned viciously. "But remember that you promised me that you'll help me get my revenge. Bert played me for a fool and I want to make that bastard pay. When it's time, I want to make him hurt. So what do we do next?" For the next hour or so, we sat in my office and started to plan our counter offensive. It meant that I would be late getting home from work, but that was a bonus. Hopefully, Jean would wonder what was going on. I wanted her nervous. Our initial plans were simple. We needed to protect ourselves and gain information. Kay was going to contact a lawyer and start the process of getting a divorce. She was also going to start quietly protecting her assets from any attempt by Bert to grab them. She told me a bit about her financial situation and why she needed concrete proof of the affair. Kay's first husband had died and had left her with a substantial estate. Bert had come into the marriage with next to nothing. His first marriage had ended in divorce and his ex-wife had taken him to the cleaners. Luckily for Kay, her family attorney had convinced her to get a pre nuptial agreement. Bert had only limited rights to the assets she brought into the marriage, including the home they were living in. In the case of infidelity, he got nothing. So Kay wanted concrete proof of his cheating. My situation was a bit more complex. I wasn't going to contact a lawyer, yet. I still hadn't given up on the marriage. Plus, I had to think about the kids. I had to think about the effect on them as well. I didn't want to hurt them if things did go sour My ultimate decision depended to a large degree on Jean. If her behavior to me was all an act, I was going to divorce her. I wasn't willing to stay in a loveless marriage just because of the kids. But, if this was an aberration and she could learn her lesson, I was willing to at least consider trying to save the marriage. At the very least, I wanted our break-up to be amicable enough that I could still play a major role in the kid's lives. Realistically, if there were a divorce, Jean would end up with custody and I would be paying support. That was not an obligation I would skimp on. I would take steps to protect myself, but I wasn't going to hide assets or try to cheat Jean. I loved my kids and wouldn't do anything to hurt them. Gathering information was our first job. I showed Kay the process for setting up the snoop program. That was going to be our primary source of information. She would set it up at home and try to gain access to Bert's "yurmail" account. Then we would both be able to monitor any plans that might be made. Kay was not a power computer user, but she knew enough to follow directions. It was clear, however, that it was going to be up to me to search her home computer to find out if Bert had left any hidden or encrypted files. We talked about some of that high tech gadgetry that you read about, but gave it a pass. Sure we could bug our home phones and hide tracking devices or voice recorders in the cars, but was it worth it? Neither Kay nor I had ever gotten any indication that the cheats were keeping in touch by phone. Jean was too smart for that. As for a GPS unit in the car, how much would we really gain? If the emails told us where they were meeting, we could skip the cloak and dagger of following them and be in position before they got there. Things fell into a new routine quickly. Kay and I took to eating lunch together two or three times a week to compare notes. In addition, I was sneaking over to her house at least once a week so that I could search her computer for evidence against Bert. I found myself making excuses and lying to Jean so I could make time to spend with Kay. Our investigation was going slowly. My search of Kay's computer hadn't turned up much. Bert just didn't use it that often. I had located a folder with some encrypted files he had created, but because he hadn't accessed the files, we didn't have his password. We were also still waiting for him to access his email account from home. So far, it seemed like he did most of his seduction of Jean while he was supposed to be working. At home, I was trying to teach Jean a lesson by my behavior. Purposefully, I wasn't doing a real good job of hiding my suspicions. There was tenseness between us that hadn't existed before. I wanted her to be aware that my trust in her had faded. I wanted her to know that her actions had hurt our marriage and me. Initially, my response had the desired affect. I had confirmed her worst fears that the marriage was in trouble and this hardened her resolve to stop the affair before I caught her red handed. No, she didn't confess the affair, but true to form she worked hard to make it up to me and get back into my good graces. The ironic thing was that while I was sneaking around to meet Kay, Jean to all outward appearances was the perfect loving wife. She made my favorite meals. She was extra nice to me and didn't comment when I got snappish at her. She even made extra efforts to seduce me and keep me happy. And she went out of her way to let me know where she was and what she was doing. Although she steadfastly ignored the reasons why she lost my trust, she was trying hard to regain it. Gradually, things started to improve between Jean and I. I guess it was to be expected. I have always been the type of person to get mad fast and then get over it. The pain of her betrayal was fading to a dull ache as the memory faded. It's hard to keep anger at a boil for a long period of time, particularly when the person you are angry at is trying their best to be nice to you. Jean's relief was palpable as things slowly improved. For a while, things seemed to be slowly getting back to normal. My thoughts were shifting from revenge and payback to considering whether it was possible to forgive and forget. Getting on with the marriage was looking good. I still didn't have the answer I wanted as to why the affair had happened, but as my rage passed, it just didn't seem as important anymore. My new overriding concern was whether Jean had learned her lesson. I probably would have forgiven her if it weren't for that damned email account. Jean never deleted the account and continued to use it on a regular basis to keep in touch with Bert. As long as Bert still had a private conduit to my wife, the marriage was in trouble. No matter how innocent the communications, I couldn't forget that he had slept with my wife. I would wonder when the affair might start again. That's because Bert was using that access to work my wife. I could count on seeing two or three new emails each work day. At first, the emails were what you would expect. He was pushing her to get over her scare and meet him again, but she either ignored those emails or sent him a curt reply to tell him it was over. But, I have to give it to him. Not only was the asshole persistent, he was good too. When he saw that Jean was unwilling to start up where they left off, he changed his tactics. He pretended to back down. Reluctantly he told her that he accepted her decision. But, did that mean that their friendship had to end too? The emails changed from pleas to get together to friendly missives about little things. He filled his emails with remembrances of the laughter and good times that they had shared. Without pressing, he was showing her how much he missed her friendship. To my disgust, Jean fell for this crap. Slowly her responses started to change too. When he stopped pushing the affair, she stopped feeling threatened and started to respond to his friendly overtures. Soon they were emailing back and forth like a pair of old friends about insignificant matters sharing jokes and gripes about life, family and bosses. It was maddening to see her slow slip back into the mindset that caused the problem in the first place. It took him over a month, but Bert finally moved into the next phase of his new seduction. As Jean's responses got friendlier, he started to reminisce about the lunches that they used to share. How much they had meant to him. Wistfully he asked her whether it was possible for them to get together occasionally for a casual lunch just to talk. Jean didn't totally fall for this gambit. At first she refused his requests. But he was able to get her to talk about the reasons why, and that was how he persuaded her. For every objection she raised, he had a seemingly reasonable response. After all, what was wrong with two friends sharing a "harmless lunch"? Didn't she have lunch with other men all the time? Did I have to approve who she had lunch with? He assured her that he was forgetting neither her fears nor her desire to save her marriage. But did her marriage mean that she couldn't have male friends? It was insidious, but slowly he managed to shift the focus of the discussion. He glossed over how the "harmless lunches" had led to their affair and focused on the lunch as a challenge to her independence. Somehow, I became the villain; I was the cause for the destruction of their friendship. Bert didn't attack me directly. He knew that would turn Jean away. Rather, he damned me with faint praise. Bert was well aware that I did not like him. He played off of that just enough to position himself as the bewildered injured party. He focused on my dislike and turned that into the reason why I wouldn't permit them to have lunch. It's funny how even a smart person can get twisted around when faced with a concerted snow job. Jean is intelligent, but like all of us, she does have her weaknesses. Apparently Bert knew her well enough to play on those weaknesses. Plain and simple, he manipulated her until he got what he wanted. Jean gave in and agreed to meet him for lunch one day at work. I was sure that it was still innocent, at least on her part. She made it clear to him he shouldn't expect anything other than lunch. But, to say that I was concerned was an understatement. Given a chance, this bastard would have her wrapped around his finger. I could see that she was weakening. If he got enough chances to work on her in person, he would probably be able to restart the affair. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime Maybe I should have said something. Figured out some way of giving her a clue that I knew what was going on. Some type of hint. Maybe if she knew that I wasn't clueless her fear would have woken her up again. But would that have solved anything? The night I discovered that she was planning a lunch with Bert, I was in a quandary; unless I was willing to let Jean know that I knew about her affair, I had no real reason to object to the lunch, even if she told me about it. In Jean's eyes, the lunch with Bert was relatively innocent. If I confronted her, it would have reinforced everything that he had been telling her about my trying to destroy their friendship. It might have caused a bigger rift between us. My other concern was keeping my access to the email account hidden. A hidden source of information only remains useful as long as it remained undiscovered. If I changed my behavior or told her I knew about the lunch, then she would have put two and two together and figured out where I was getting my information. If she changed the way that she was getting in touch with Bert, I would lose my only source of information. So, instead of getting angry with Jean, I took it out on my co-workers. I came into the office in a foul mood and snapped at everybody. I was angry both because I could see that he was getting to her and because I couldn't figure out how to stop it without confronting Jean. When Kay came into my office for lunch, I was at a boiling point. I shoved the copy of the emails across the desk towards her and sat there steaming while she read them. "What the fuck is wrong with her." I raged. "Can you tell me how any women with even an ounce of brains could fall for this line of bullshit?" After my outburst, Kay sat there and stared at me until I flushed. I was an idiot. I had forgotten that Kay had married him. Any insults I hurled at Jean were, at least indirectly, comments on Kay as well. "Oh hell Kay, I'm sorry. It's just I don't understand what is that women see in him. I've told you about his bragging. How in the world can he get women like you and Jean to fall for this crock? Not just once but again and again. What is it about him? Is he some sort of superman in bed or something?" Kay stared at me for another long moment before she snorted and took pity on me. "No, he's hardly a superman." Kay paused and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment. "Since you told me about the affair, I've spent a lot of time thinking about Bert and his behavior. I started to see how he was manipulating me. I started to remember some of the little things that I ignored before. Time and time again, I've asked myself the question, how does he get his way so often?" Kay looked troubled. "I've got a theory, but, I'm not sure how you'll like it." At my nod to continue, she went on. "I think I can get you to understand if I ask you some questions. Until a couple of weeks ago, you never told me why you disliked Bert. You never told me he used to brag about his affairs. Why?" I shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I guess I didn't think it was my place to tell you. It didn't feel right for me to snitch on him or cause problems in your marriage because I thought he was just full of shit. If I knew he was telling the truth, I would have let you know." Kay nodded as if I confirmed her thoughts. "What about Jean? Did you ever tell her why you didn't like him?" "Not really," I responded. "I just told her that I thought he was an obnoxious prick. I didn't go into any details. I didn't think it was important." "So, in other words, you didn't tell on Bert because it wasn't honorable?" She asked. At my surprised nod, she went on sarcastically. "Tell me, do you think that would have stopped Bert? Would it surprise you to find out that Bert told me that he dropped you as a friend? That he went into all sorts of details of rotten things you had done? He accused you of everything from cheating at golf to stiffing him for the drinks he had won. Hell he even said you had bad breath." Kay sighed. "The reason you don't understand is that you think that Bert is playing by the same set of rules you are. That's the difference between guys like you and guys like Bert. You're a nice guy. I've seen it around the office. You're not willing to put someone else down to get ahead. Bert only cares about himself. He doesn't care who he hurts as long as he gets what he wants." I was still not convinced. I could understand what she was saying about Bert. If fit right in with what I already thought. I had seen the line of bullshit he was giving Jean, but I still didn't see how that answered my question. "I understand he's a self centered prick." I answered testily. "But why did Jean fall for it. How can he wrap her around his finger like this?" Kay looked at me like I was dense and answered like she was explaining to a child. "Hal, to understand, you need to remember that he plays by a different set of rules. Hell, he's not even playing the same game you are. Because he doesn't care who he hurts, he is willing to say or do anything to get what he wants. He doesn't care if Jean gets hurt because of the affair. The only reason he's been hiding the affair at all is because he knows I'll divorce him if I find out and he'll lose the nice lifestyle we can afford." I must have still looked baffled because Kay continued with her explanation. "Bert is very good at manipulating people. When somebody has what he wants, he has a way of turning on the charm to get it. He finds a person's weakness and exploits it to his advantage. If he gets caught in a lie, he twists things around so it is someone else's fault. He's never the one to blame. When he gets talking he can twist an argument to make outrageous things seem acceptable. He can talk his way into almost anything." I responded stubbornly. "Then why didn't it work on me. I saw through his bullshit right away." Kay sighed tiredly at my intransigence. "That's because he never tried to manipulate you. You've never been in a position to help him get something he wanted. Because he didn't think you could help him, you weren't important. Bert divides the world into people who can help Bert and people who can't. If you aren't someone who can help him get what he wants, you don't matter." Kay hesitated slightly as if nervous to go on. "There's something else you should know too. Do you remember that conversation we had before I got married about whether I should make Bert sign a pre-nup?" "Sure, I told you to listen to your lawyer." I replied. Kay grinned. "Remind me to thank you for that later. Anyway I never told you how hard Bert tried to talk me out of that. He finally signed it only because I told him that he either signed or the wedding was off." "One thing I've discovered about Bert is that he never lets go of something he wants. Even after we got married, he kept on about that damned pre-nup. He kept trying to get me to void it." Kay snorted in derision. "It wasn't until I caught him with his secretary that he finally stopped. Before that, however, he was always after me to explain why I thought it was necessary. He wanted to know who I talked to about it and what they had said. When he heard my lawyer suggested it, he insisted that we use a different lawyer when we changed our wills. I really didn't think much about it at the time, but now I think he was trying to pay that lawyer back for suggesting the pre-nup." Kay's eyes were troubled as she looked at me intently. "Hal, he knows that I talked to you. He knows that you told me to get the pre-nup. What if that's the reason why he went after Jean?" I looked at Kay incredulously. It sounded to me like she was trying to excuse Jean's actions. "Are you telling me that Jean isn't to blame here? That I should just forgive her because she got targeted by a manipulative asshole?" "I don't know!" Kay wailed. "If he targeted her like I think he did, I don't know if she knew how to resist him. One reason I was never able to resist Bert was because of my first husband. He was just like you. I never had any experience dealing with a guy who would lie about anything just to get his own way. It took a long time to realize that Bert could look me in the eye and lie to me about something important because it never happened to me before. If Jean thinks that Bert is like you, she didn't have a chance. "I'm not saying that she isn't wrong or doesn't need to be taught a lesson, she does, but damn it, I feel responsible too! If I hadn't told Bert about you, he probably never would have targeted Jean. Bert pulled the wool over my eyes for years and now because of me, he's doing the same thing to Jean. "Don't you see, because of me Bert has a grudge against you. He resents you because you gave me advice that he didn't like. He's been trying to poison my friendship with you for years. It would be just like Bert to start an affair with Jean as a way of stabbing you in the back. It's a way he could feel he's beaten you without your ever knowing about it." Kay finished her tirade and slumped back into her chair with her distress written all over her face. Her confession that Bert might be using Jean to get revenge on me came as a complete surprise. That was one explanation for the affair that I would never have thought of. I didn't blame Kay, it wasn't her fault that her husband held a grudge against me, but I could see that she blamed herself. I didn't even think about it, I got up from my chair and moved over to kneel beside Kay and give her a hug. She was a friend and needed comfort. She collapsed into my arms and started to sob. I just knelt there awkwardly, patting her back. After a few minutes, Kay's arms slipped around me and began to return my hug. She lifted her tear streaked face from my chest and smiled up at me tremulously. She murmured a thank you and stretched over to give me a gentle peck. The kiss stretched out and slowly changed. From a chaste kiss of friendship, it turned into more. Suddenly, she was attacking my lips with a ferocious passion and I began to respond to her insistence. Before I knew it, I was caressing her back as I returned her kiss with an interest that shocked me. After an endless moment, Kay broke the kiss and looked over at me with a peculiar look of triumph. "Now do you understand?" She asked. I must have looked bewildered because she suddenly looked contrite. "Hal, I was acting. I'm sorry that I had to manipulate you like that, but it was the only way I could think to make you understand. I needed you to see just how easy it can be to manipulate someone. "I do think that Bert is trying to get revenge on you, but he's the one to blame, not me. I knew you were the type of guy that wouldn't let me blame myself like that and used that to get inside your defenses. You needed to see that it could happen to you too. I'm not defending Jean, but remember that Bert used her. Don't give up on her just yet." I returned to my chair stunned. Kay had just given me a lot to think about, and a few things that I was having trouble forgetting. I have always been attracted to Kay but never acted on it. I was married and didn't cheat on my wife. If I had been single when we met, I would have pursued her in a heartbeat. To be honest, Kay had starred in more than a few of my fantasies over the years. To finally hold her in my arms and kiss her so passionately had raised all sorts of possibilities as well as another prominent part of my anatomy. With an effort, I stopped thinking about how she had felt in my arms and focused my thoughts to the topic at hand. Jean was a smart woman, but Bert had her acting like a foolish schoolgirl. I knew that Kay was right, if we let Bert have the chance to work on her in person, he was going to win. She would give in to him. He wouldn't give her the chance to think about the pain that would be caused if I caught her in an affair. Worse, she wasn't even aware of the intrinsic damage her whole relationship with Bert caused to our marriage. "Any ideas on what we can do?" I asked Kay plaintively. She knew Bert better than I. Maybe she could give me an idea on how to stop him. Kay was stumped too. The only idea we could come up with was for Jean to find out what Bert was like. But we didn't know how to make that happen. We needed to show her, not just tell her. Otherwise, he would twist it around and use it to drive a further wedge between Jean and me. To buy time, we decided to prevent the lunches from happening. That first lunch they planned didn't happen; nor did the second. Kay and I had some fun coming up with seemingly innocent methods to thwart their plans. Since we knew when they planned to meet, it wasn't hard to come up with something. We just had to make them plausible and keep Bert from getting suspicious. The day they planned to meet, I let Jean know at breakfast that I was going to be near her work for a meeting and wanted to take her to lunch. Jean didn't have a problem breaking her plans with Bert to be with me. When Bert convinced her to reschedule, it was Kay's turn. She rushed into his office a half hour before he was to leave for the lunch with a fake crisis that they needed to deal with immediately. He never even had a chance to contact Jean. I hoped that getting stood up would cool things off between them, but Kay proved right again. He managed to divert Jean's anger at getting stood up onto Kay. It didn't take long for Bert to get back in Jean's good graces and for her to agree to reschedule the lunch again. Of course, one of the reasons he might have gotten her to agree was the restaurant he proposed. Bert had offered to treat her to lunch at the new "Tavern on the Green" knockoff that had opened in an outdoor terrace at the edge of the public gardens downtown. It was expensive, trendy and a place Jean was dying to try. This time, Kay and I decided to change tactics. We knew we couldn't keep on interrupting their plans at the last minute without someone getting suspicious. Rather, I was going to take advantage of the nice weather to join one of my co-workers for a walk at lunch in the public garden. I wasn't going to interrupt the lunch, but I was going to visibly notice them. Meantime, Kay was going to use the chance to get some pictures of Jean and Bert together. The idea was that this would give me the opening that I needed to talk to Jean. I wasn't planning to go on an all out attack against Bert, but I was going to remind her that he was not my favorite person. Except this time, I was going to tell her why. I was also going to let slip some choice tidbits from Kay about Bert and his secretary and how good he was at manipulating people. I was going to warn her to be careful around him and see if it opened her eyes. What I didn't count on was the depths of Jean's guilt. Jean was hiding her friendship with Bert from me totally. I'm sure she felt guilty about spending time with a guy that she had had an affair with. I never saw them together. Jean saw me first and disappeared. Kay told me later that afternoon that when Jean saw me entering the park, she turned white, grabbed her purse and left without a backward glance at Bert. She got some real good pictures of Bert sitting at the table alone glaring over at me. That night, it was Jean whose behavior changed. She reverted back to the anxious to please; guilty as sin attitude she had copped before. I didn't comment on it, but filed it away to think about later. I couldn't decide if she was showing residual guilt from the affair or a subconscious acknowledgment that the lunch was something more than a simple get together between friends. Jean's bolting from the lunch did reap some unexpected benefits. Her newest scare helped to slow Bert down somewhat. The shock of seeing me while she was with "the other man" had Jean in an absolute panic. Bert was trying to convince her that it didn't matter if I saw them together because they weren't doing anything wrong, but Jean wasn't buying it. She was convinced that I would see them together and her guilt would shine out like a scarlet letter. The fallout from the lunch also brought us our first big break in gaining the evidence we needed. Bert never went back to his office that day. Maybe he figured that he was going to be able to convince Jean to take the afternoon off. After Jean ran off, he ended up going home. We finally were able to get his yurmail password from the snoop program. What was even better, when we tried to use that password to access the encrypted files, it worked. Like a lot of people, he used the same password for everything! A few days later, Kay came into my office with a CD and a printout of the log file. She had accessed his email account and had found he was a packrat. She had Bert just where she wanted him. Bert had used his account to keep in touch not only with Jean and his old secretary but also two other women we knew nothing about, including the wife of one of his co-workers. Kay now had the proof she needed to send Bert packing. Bert's email archives proved interesting. Not only did they give me a better idea of the extent of Jean's affair; they also provided some good clues about the nature of the affair and where he wanted to take it. Fortunately for my psyche, I had discovered the affair not long after the physical aspects had started. I did not think that they had had sex or any type of intimate contact more than a handful of times. The emails spanned a far longer period than the affair. Initially, they were mailed to an account of Jeans that I knew about. The "dreamyjean" account was only created about four months before I found out about the affair. Over time Bert had convinced Jean to set up a "private" email account the two of them could share that no one else knew about. In a morbid sense, it was fascinating to read through the emails and watch how he seduced her into the affair. The best way I can describe his methods was a combination of mental jujitsu and conditioning. Bert had taken his time to "gentle" Jean, to slowly bring her to the point where she would be susceptible to his advances. Slowly over a period of years he cultivated a friendship and level of trust; a friendship that gradually increased in intimacy until he became a close friend and confidant. Bert had taken a long-term approach to his seduction of Jean. Jean did not seek out the affair; he pursued her. This was not an affair that happened out of circumstances, it was a deliberate seduction. By the time the "dreamyjean" account was created, he had almost succeeded in his plans. She had gotten to the point where she trusted his advice. She had begun to allow him to kiss and hug her in ways that I did not feel appropriate, but no overt sexual actions had yet occurred. She still felt uncomfortable and made efforts to pull back, but he deflected her concerns and turned her arguments against her or subtly shifted the focus to the point where I was to blame. Bert was working to drive a wedge between us. A good example of this was the guilt Jean felt in hiding her friendship with Bert from me. This guilt was heightened when the private email account was created. Jean felt uneasy because she was hiding a part of her life from me. Bert took her guilt and placed it on my shoulders. The only reason that he wanted her to hide the friendship from me was because I didn't like him. Similarly, the private email account was to protect her in the event that I tried to invade her privacy and snoop in her email. All he was doing was trying to help her avoid an unnecessary fight that could hurt her marriage. He hid his seduction in platitudes. Even when he moved into the active seduction phase, he took it slow. The intimacies he took with her slowly increased. From a friendly kiss and hug when they met or parted, the intimacies progressed. He got her to the point where she allowed him to caress her during the kiss and the kisses became more passionate. That was why I never noticed a sharp change in her behavior or a high level of anxiety. He let her get acclimatized to each new intimacy before he took the next step. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime Jon gradually woke up. His head was woozy and the room was dark, so he couldn't tell where he was. The only thing he could tell was that he was tied down with his arms above him and his feet spread wide apart, and that he was naked. As his head cleared, he tried to remember how he got into this predicament. He remembered talking to some guy at a bar. They talked about football, the weather, their jobs, their families. He had thought at the time that the man was unusually curious about his personal life, but Jon just chalked it up to this guy being lonely on a Saturday night in Chicago. When their drinks were empty, the stranger bought another round. While the bartender was mixing the drinks, Jon went to the men's room to relieve himself. "That's when it happened!" Jon realized. "That bastard must have put something into my drink!" He didn't remember anything after returning to the bar and downing the contents of his glass. There had been nothing in their conversation that would have led Jon to suspect that his new friend would tie him up naked and leave him alone in a cold, dark room. He struggled against the ropes a few times but soon realized that whoever had done this was very good at restraining his or her prey! That's what he felt like-prey! Jon was 6'2" and 185 pounds. He had never felt threatened or vulnerable in his life. He had always been good with the ladies, and popular in school. How in the hell did he get here? Right now, Jon was tied up, legs spread, and prepared for something unpleasant. For the first time, Jon knew real fear. As the reality of his situation settled in, the absolute fear began to rise within him. He expected someone to walk into the room any second, but Jon laid there for hours. The longer he was alone, the more confusion and disorientation set in. He figured that his captors were subjecting him to the torture of sensory depravation. There was very little light and absolutely no sound except for his own breathing. He tried crying out a few times, but there had been no response. Finally, Jon fell asleep. Apparently, that was what his captors were waiting for because no sooner had he dropped off when the door opened. Two men walked in. He strained to get a good look at them, but they quickly blindfolded him. The only thing he could tell is that they were very large and that they were naked. "What's going on? Who the hell are you?" The only answer he got was a slap across the face. His captors checked the ropes. Jon had so many questions but was afraid to say anything. He felt hands touching him now. The touching soon turned into caressing. They caressed his legs, his arms, his stomach, and his chest. Suddenly, without warning Jon felt the excruciating pain of someone pinching and twisting his nipples. He cried out and was slapped for his reaction. Whoever this was, cruelty was on the menu. As they pinched and twisted his nipples again, all Jon could do was bite his lip and moan as silently as possible. Finally one of the men spoke. "Jon?" "Yes?" "Welcome to our little version of hell." "What? What do you mean? Why are you doing this?" "Jon?" "What!?" "Gay men don't like being called fags." "What?" "You shouldn't call gay men names Jon. They don't like it very much." Jon's mind began swirling. He racked his brain trying to remember such an infraction. Suddenly the light dawned. It had been at least a year ago when he found out that a coworker, Alex, was gay. He simply had commented to his informer that he was surprised to find out that Alex was a fag. He and his informer had a few laughs, but Jon hadn't really thought about it since. When he remembered, he let out a slight gasp. "Yes, Jon. You remember now don't you?" Jon tried to sound confident and strong, but his voice betrayed his sense of fear and desperation. "Yes, I remember. But I didn't mean anything by it! I don't give a shit if Alex is gay. To each his own, right?" "If only you felt that way Jon, none of this would be necessary. However, our group has decided that your attitude must be adjusted, so to speak. Now, you have two choices. We ARE going to have some fun with you Jon. Your choices are as follows, however. One, you can resist and feel the wrath of offended gay men. Or two, you can cooperate and enjoy the pleasures of a good old fashioned gang bang. We're going to leave you alone for while and let you think about it Jon. We and our friends will be back and extract your answer." Jon heard them leave. He was breathing hard. His heart was pounding. But-his cock was hard! What the hell? When did that happen? What was he going to do? His nipples were still aching from their brief torture. He couldn't imagine what they were going to do if he resisted. But the thought of cocks in his mouth or ass scared him to death. He wouldn't even look at other guys in the locker room at the gym. How was he going to participate willingly? "God, all of this because of one stupid comment!" About that time, he heard the door open. He heard several men walk into the room. Without saying a word he felt something being hooked into the table on both sides of his legs. Then someone began untying his feet. They lifted them into the air and Jon realized that he was being strapped into stirrups. Then, he felt the part of the table where his head was lying suddenly drop away and his head fell back, hanging down off the edge of the table. Jon was now completely vulnerable. "Jon. I'm going to give you an offering. Your response will determine how our time together will go." Suddenly, Jon felt a cock at his mouth. The captor was rubbing the tip across his closed lips. What was he going to do? "Open your mouth Jon," was all he heard. He felt someone else grab his sore nipples again and begin to squeeze. As he gasped in pain, the captor quickly shoved the dick all the way down his throat. He gagged, but that didn't stop his new lover. The captor grabbed the back of his head and begin fucking his mouth. His first thought was to bite this bastard's pecker off. Instead, he tried his best to relax his mouth and throat to accommodate this intruder. Apparently satisfied that Jon was done resisting, someone else began stroking his cock. In spite of himself, Jon's shaft began to grow. Then another set of fingers began rubbing across his ass and legs. Another set was caressing his chest and stomach. Then the fingers on his ass began tickling his asshole itself. They left for a minute and returned with an oily substance. The captor began wiping the lube on his asshole and then pushed it deep inside. Jon was being prepared! The guy that had been stroking him suddenly took Jon's member into his mouth. He had never been sucked off by a guy before. Damn was this man good! Jon had things done to his cock that no woman had ever done to it before. This guy's tongue was talented! He licked, and kissed, and sucked, and deep throated. Then, without warning, the guy working on his ass slid his finger deep inside Jon's asshole. The combination of a cock fucking his mouth, a pro sucking his cock, and finger's invading his asshole proved too much for this gay virgin. Jon shot a load deep into the hungry mouth of his cocksucker. His captor gladly drank every drop of Jon's present. The man fucking his mouth said, "We have you now, don't we Jon?" His lover pulled his cock out of Jon's mouth long enough for Jon to say, "Yes." With that answer, his hands were untied and he was given two cocks to stroke. Immediately his main captor began fucking his mouth again and with just a few strokes blew his load deep into Jon's now willing mouth. Then the man fingering his ass replaced his fingers with his cock, and Jon was finally taking his first cock up his man pussy. Before long, a load was being delivered inside Jon's no longer virgin ass. Jon lost count of how many men were in that room. He knows that he took at least 30 loads in and on various parts of his body, but he wasn't sure if some had come back for seconds or not. When it was all over, Jon was a sticky mess. Sperm was in his hair, on his face, in his mouth, on his chest, in his ass. When the last load was blown, the captors one by one left the room. Finally, the main captor said, "Jon, I'm going to untie you. However, before I do I need to tell you a few things. First, if you ever say anything about this to anyone, you will disappear forever. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "Second, if you enjoyed tonight, you may return to us again by leaving a message at a number that we will leave in your wallet. If you did not enjoy it, simply ignore the number and you will never hear from us again. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "I'm going to untie you. Leave the blindfold on until you hear the door shut before taking it off. There is a shower in the corner. Clean up and get dressed. When you are dressed, put on the blindfold. Someone will come to get you and drive you home. And Jon, one more thing." "Yes?" "Watch what you say about gay men from now on, ok?" "Uh . . . absolutely!" Let the Punishment Fit the Crime There I sat in front of the television, pretending to be interested in the baseball game. It was Saturday afternoon; Jane and I had just finished eating the roast beef meal that she had prepared. While she was busy putting the dishes away I was looking at the game but much of the time, when she was not looking my way, I was observing her. Jane is an attractive woman, not that she is exceedingly pretty but she is very pleasant to look at her. Her most important asset is her voluptuous body. She has a nice round bum and her boobs stand high and firm and more than once did I notice men turning their head to look at her when we are walking together. Being tall with shoulder long light brown hair, she has a special way to look at you with her large brown eyes that can send shivers through your spine. At least she does have that effect on me. We have now been married for seven years and we have two beautiful daughters, Nancy age 5 and Stacy age 4. Since we both have a full time job, my mother take care of our daughters while we are working and Jane or I pick them up from my mom's place after work each day. After the birth of Stacy I got a vasectomy, we both agreed that having two children was enough for us. But what was preoccupying me at the moment was certainly not our two daughters who were now quietly playing together in their room. No I was thinking about the many changes that I had noticed in Jane's in the last few months. These changes, like the way she now dressed and her longer hours at work were nothing much if taken separately, but looking at the whole of the many changes that she had undergone, it was worrying me. Especially her attitude at home, it seemed to me that something was now preoccupying her. On many occasions, while we were watching TV, I would make comments about the movie or the program that we were watching. Judging by her answers I could tell that she wasn't paying attention to what she had seemed to be watching. Her eyes were on the TV and she seemed to paying attention to what was going on the screen, but it was evident that her mind was somewhere else. Then in bed at night, even if our sex life was still good – two or three times a week – she would keep on tossing around for hours before finally falling asleep after making love with me. No, I knew that there was something bothering her but the problem was that she was not sharing her problem with me. I didn't think it would be a good idea to approach her and ask her directly what was worrying her since I knew that it would probably contribute even more to her distant mood. I hoped that whenever she felt ready to discuss what was bothering her, she would. We had always shared everything before and we were always open to talk things together. So why was she so secretive about it now? Jane was an exceedingly good cook and she was always eager to try to cook different dishes for me. She would spend hours on the internet trying to look for new ways to prepare food and new recepies. She even went on chat sites where she talked with other women and exchanged ideas about new dishes and how to prepare them. I even knew her chat name, having seen it often on my way to the washroom, as I would walk behind her while she was on the computer. She was using the name 'Jinny', I figured that she had chosen that name since her father always called her that way. She would chat almost every evening with those women that were in the 'Special Food Preparation' room and I knew that it was not only food that they were talking about. As I sat there watching her cleaning the table, I suddenly had an idea. What was preventing me from using my laptop while she was chatting and getting into that 'Special Food Preparation' room under a fictitious name and see what they were all talking about. I told myself that I could even talk to her in there without her realizing that she was talking to me. But later, after thinking more about it, I realized that it was a cheap shot and I didn't have the heart to do it. Especially with the possibility of her finding out that I was spying on her. A week later, things were not better. Jane was still lost in her thoughts and even when one of our daughters was trying to get her attention, she would barely notice them when she was at home. I knew then that I had to do something. That is when I decided to spy on her and even talk to her while she was in her chat room with those women. The next day, while I was in my office at work, I registered myself in the same messenger site that she was using under the name of 'New Mom'. I chose that name since it would leave no doubt to the fact that I was a female so as to make all those women in the room feel safe having me there. Jane would usually log into her chat room at around 8 PM once our two daughters were in bed, and on that Tuesday evening I was ready for her. The instant that I saw her entering the small room in front of the washroom where her computer was, I got up and told her that I was going to the basement in my office so as to catch up on some paper work. She just nodded to me and I immediately went down where my home office was. A few minutes later I was in 'Special Food Preparation' room waiting for her name to appear. There were five other women there and they were having a discussion on how to prepare the perfect cheesecake. After five minutes I was still waiting for my wife's name to appear on the list at the bottom of the screen. After another minute one of the women wrote to me asking if I knew of a special recipe for a cheesecake. Of course I knew nothing about cakes and I got out of this bad situation by just writing down that I had never baked one yet and that it was the reason that I was in the room, I wanted to learn from experienced cooks. As soon as I was finishing writing, I saw the name 'Jinny' appearing at the top of the list of people in the room. Soon every one was giving me tips on cooking a cheese cakes, even 'Jinny' was telling me what kind of cheese to use and how much of it. After a while we were about a dozen people trying to talk (or write I should say) and it was difficult to follow. So I asked 'Jinny' if she could write her cheesecake recipe and send it to me. Of course I gave her a hotmail address that I had created for this special purpose. The following day while I was at work, I checked my mail; there was an e- mail to 'New Mom' from 'Jinny'. It was the cheesecake recipe from 'Jinny'. I was trilled since I now had her e-mail address. It was an address that was completely unknown to me; I was shocked since my wife had never before hidden any thing from me. I felt a little bad for the rest of the day for what I had done and I knew that she must never discover that 'New Mom' was actually her husband. The following day I sent her an e-mail to tell her that I had tried her recipe and the cake had turned out great and that my husband loved it. Soon we were sending e-mails to one another and a week later we began to chat outside of the 'Special Food Preparation' room. We both had written each others name as 'friend' on the chat site and now we could talk anytime we wanted without having to go into the Food Section of the messenger site. Jane's mood around the house and around me continued to deteriorate during the following two weeks. Our sex life was going down the drain. We were making love only once a week now and when we were doing it I could tell that my wife was not enjoying it as she used to. It was as if I was fucking a log, she just remained there – mostly in the missionary position – and let me use her body until I was done. We did continue to write and chat and I now felt a lot less guilty doing this. I figured that I had to find out what was going on so as to try and save my marriage. Yes, in my mind my marriage was going in the wrong direction with her being so distant all the time with me and the children, even sex with her was getting worst still and less frequent as time went on. I could tell that her interest in me and in our two daughters came in second to something else that was hidden in her mind. Of course she was still a devoted mother and I know that she would probably give her life for us still. But something terrible was eating at her and I had to find out what it was. Yes, there was something going on and I could feel it, I began to suspect that she was having an affair. I was now ready to do anything to learn more about what was happening to her. I didn't have money to hire a private investigator so as to follow her around as I have often read in stories and there was no way for me to check on her at her place of work. For one thing I knew very little about her coworkers and what was going on where she worked. We both had the same work schedule, she as one of the many secretaries for a big law firm and me as a programmer for a large bank. So one evening, while we were chatting I made up my mind to break the ice and to get more personal with her. We were feeling conformable with each other by then and it was time for me to start pumping information out of her. I told her that my reel name was Lucy and that I was living in Florida. She immediately said that her name was Jane and was living in Ohio. Lucy: What kind of work do you do Jane? Jane: I am a legal secretary and I prepare contracts and other legal documents for layers that work for our firm. What about you Lucy? I was not prepared to answer that question and I had to think fast. Lucy: Well at the moment I am not working since I am still on my maternity leave but in two weeks time I will be start working again. I work in a bank, I am a teller. Jane: Oh, my husband also work for a bank. His name is Jack and he is a programmer there. What is the name of your husband? This was going even better than I had hope for. My wife was telling Lucy (me) information, which I knew to be true and in the back of my mind I was looking forward to ask her many more personal questions. Lucy: His name is Lawrence and he sells insurance. After than we did talk about cooking and other matters. I didn't want to push thing too much so I decided to wait till our next chat session to try to get her to talk more about her personal life and her job. We didn't get to chat for the following two evenings and on the third day I did send her an e-mail telling her that the manager of the bank where I was working had phone me. They had an emergency and he had asked me if I could start working a week before my leave was due to end, they were going to pay me the extra week in cash. I wrote that I was very exited and at the same time I was afraid to go back to work. I had thought it over the previous day and I had made up my mind to pretend to Jane that I had had an affair with a man working with me at the bank. I had planned this story so that my wife would feel more at ease confiding to her new friend, and what better way to do that than to let her in on a fictitious secret affair that I was having. I knew that if she was cheating on me she would be more tempted to talk about it then. Jane: You mention in your e-mail that it frightened you to go back to work. Why is that so? Lucy: I don't know if I should tell you this but since you are my best friend I will. I do hope that you won't think any less of me after you know what I have done. Jane: We all make mistakes after all we are humans. What have you done, have you taken money from the bank? Lucy: Oh no. It is nothing like that. It's just that I met a man where I work. His name is Roberto; we gradually became very good friends and much more if you know what I mean. I then went on to tell her that I (Lucy) had been having an affair with this man and it had gone on for over a year. I went on to explain to her how it all began between him and me and that during that year we had been meeting once a week usually on Friday after work. I told her that sex with him was fun and exiting but I still loved my husband and didn't want him to find out and thus destroy our marriage. It was plain to see that my telling Jane this story was disturbing her since she would let me write on and on never asking me a question for a long time. I could imagine her at that moment sitting there in the small room on the main floor of the house in front of her computer and probably thinking about the similarity of what was happening to her. If she was cheating on me of course. At last she did ask Lucy a question and I watched it slowly appearing on my screen. Jane: But you just had a baby. Are you sure that your husband is the father? Lucy: No I don't really know who the father is and this is why he must never find out about my affair. I then pretended to go into a fit of crying and I wrote down that I had to go since I was no longer able to write. When I went in the kitchen half an hour later, Jane was sitting in front of the television but I could tell that she was in her usual thinking mode and not paying attention to what was going on the tube. I sat next to her on the couch and when I reached for her hand she looked at me. I could tell that she had been crying since her eyes were very red. We talked for a few minutes then she asked me if I was ready to go to bed. I knew that she was really asking me to come and have sex with her. I certainly was ready for it since it had been over a week now that we hadn't made love. Once in bed, she was very eager she even sucked me and let me come in her mouth, – a think that she didn't often do – later we fucked and kissed for over an hour before finally falling asleep in each other's arms. Thinking about all of what was happening to our marriage the next day at work, I was till undecided about what I was going to do. So far I couldn't say if this fictitious friendship that I had created with my wife in the chat room was a good thing or not but it certainly had contribute a lot in my having sex with her the previous evening. Up to now I hadn't learn anything from her, I knew that first I had to create a climate so that Lucy and her would share information. If my wife was having an affair, she would be a lot more comfortable confiding to her friend Lucy now that she knew her secret. Jane and Lucy didn't chat during the weekend. But on Monday, I sent Jane an email at work (it was from Lucy of course) telling her that I (Lucy) had had a long talk with Roberto for the first time in three months. I was so happy about it that I had to write and tell her about it. That evening at home, as soon as the children were in bed I went to the basement in my office and I got on my computer and waited for Jane to log in so that we could chat. Lucy: I am so glad to chat with you this evening. I have good news to tell you. Jane: I did get your email and I do believe that I know why you seem in such a good mood lol. Lucy: Well Roberto was as trilled as I was to finally be able to talk to me and I could tell that he still want me. I am so happy. Jane: But how come he didn't phone you or try to see you in the last three months if he still care for you? Lucy: Well as for phoning me it was out of the question since I think that Lawrence had doubts about me and I am pretty sure that somehow he has a gadget to listen on the house phone. As for my cellular, well he can easily see what numbers I call when he pays the bill. Jane: But why did you not get to meet him in a motel as you use to do when you were working? Janet: No, this wouldn't have work. I was pregnant and fat for the last few months and...well I don't think that Roberto would have enjoyed making love to a pregnant woman. They talked on and on for another half-hour and I could tell that my wife didn't seem to like this Roberto macho man that I had made up. I was trying to show to my wife the ugliness and selfishness of cheating by making Roberto appearing as a self centered, macho bastard like most male cheaters are. Jane and Lucy didn't get to talk on Tuesday but on Wednesday they did and my wife began to talk about what had been bothering her for the last two months. They talked for over an hour and I learned that she was indeed having an affair with a lawyer who was also her boss. She said that his name was Jason Welden and he was married with one child. I heard Jane talks about him a few times, but in the last three or four months she had never mention his name once. Their affair had begun almost a year ago when they went to Atlanta together to attend a convention. I still could well remember that Tuesday when Jane left for the convention, she had never mentioned to me that her boss would be going with her. She had explained to me that she and an other secretary were going there together, leaving me under the impression that it was only the two of them that were going. At the time she had brought the argument to me that it would look good on her appraisal if she was to attend the convention and it would also help her get a raise. My wife told Lucy that the first evening after the group had had dinner together, they went to the hotel lounge and she and her boss had a few glasses of wine until it was late evening then he invited her to his room for a nightcap. They had more wine and soon one thing led to another and they were kissing and he was touching her in places that made her very excited. This led to their undressing each other and before she knew it they were having sex together. Later, when it was over she felt very bad about having cheated on her husband and she ran crying to her room to spend the rest of the night there. The second night, for some reason that she still couldn't explain to herself, it was a rerun of the first evening but this time she spent the whole night with him in his bed. I was flabbergasted when I read what my wife wrote. How could she do this to me and to our daughters? Not only had she fuck this son of a bitch once, she had done it on two separate occasions. She had even spent the whole night in his bed the second time. Now that the ice was broken I wanted to learn more. So I went on asking her questions about what was now going on between her boss and her and she willingly answered all my questions. It resumed to the following. After she got back from the convention she felt terrible and she didn't have sex with him for a couple of weeks. But gradually her resistance to his constant advances evaporated and they began to fuck again. At first they did it in his office after working hours but after a month he began to bring her to a room at the Hilton where they would spent a whole afternoon fucking there. Even now they were still going to the Hilton once a week and he was also fucking her in his office a couple of times a week after work. The anger that I felt as I read her story is impossible to describe. It took all of my self-control not to climb the stair and strangle her at that very moment. But gradually much of my anger was replaced with a need for revenge. I knew that my marriage was over and all I wanted to do now was to make her suffer for what she had done to our marriage. Then I asked her (as Lucy) if she loved this Jason Welden. Her answer was fast and clear. No she didn't love him since she love her husband more than life itself, but the sex with Jason was fantastic she said. Using her own words, 'it's like a drug to me, the more sex that I am having with Jason, the more I want'. Her affair with her boss had begun over a year ago and since then she has been fucking him three or four times per weeks. He was having sex with my wife much more often than I was. I could remember all those times that I had been longing and dreaming to fuck her but she always had an excuse so that she wouldn't let me have sex with her. But judging by what she wrote to Lucy, she was always ready and eager to fuck him. She was giving to another man what rightfully belonged to me; I was paying the price so that he could enjoy her body as much as he wanted. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime No wonder I had noticed a change in her attitude for some time now. But come to think of it, I told myself, by now she must be planning to leave me to be with Jason. But I knew that he was a married man with a child. Was he in love with my wife? Did he find her a better fuck or was it the excitement of cheating on his wife and making me a cuckold that was driving him? Lucy and Jane had been chatting for well over an hour now and I felt emotionally empty. There were so many questions unanswered still but the answers had to wait, I had to think about what I had just learned. So (as Lucy) I pretended that the baby needed me and with a promise of chatting again in a day or two we said goodbye. What is a man to do when he discovers that his world is collapsing around him? When he learns that his wife is no longer exclusive to him and is being fucked regularly by another man. When she is being fucked by this cheating bastard even more often than she is by her lawful husband. How should a man react when he learns from the mouth of his wife that sex with another man is like a drug to her and she no longer can do without it? Oh yes, I know that she did say that she loved me more than life itself, but I certainly couldn't forget the fact that she was regularly giving her body and soul to this stranger. How could she loves our daughters and me and at the same time betray us? She was living in a world of passion while I was in my world of anguish, pain and neglect. I knew that I had to make her pay for what she was doing to us. I definitely knew of a way to punish her terribly and that was to keep her away from our daughters. I had to divorce her and somehow retain full custody of our two daughters; this would be the worst thing that could happen to her. I could then move far away to another state so that she wouldn't be able to see them often. That would be hell for her. I intended also to let Jason's wife know about his affair with my wife, then I could sue the firm where they were both working for breaking my marriage. Yes I intended to do all of these things. But first I had to find a way to prove that she was cheating on me with Jason. It was extremely difficult for me to act normally around her after that. But since her mind was preoccupied with her affair and not being caught, she didn't notice my sad state of mind. So for Jane life went on pretty much as it had gone for the last year. It was Friday evening and it had been two days now that she and Lucy hadn't chat. That morning I (as Lucy) had sent her an email to ask her if she could be online that evening. She had written back that she would chat at their usual time. I had already prepared a series of questions that I wanted to ask her and even though I knew that her answers would only cause me more pain, I needed to know how much she care for Jason and what were her plans for the future. I was in front of my computer in the basement even before the children were sleeping and as soon as she had logged on, I greeted her. Lucy: I am glad to finally talk to you. For the last two days I kept thinking about what you said last time. Jane: I hope that what I said last time didn't shock you too much and that you don't think that I am a bad person. Lucy: How could I judge you, I have done much worst that you did. After all we are both only humans. Jane: It made me feel much better to be able to talk about all of this with you. There is no one here that can understand what I am going through. I am used to talk about all of my problems with my husband but I can't certainly discuss this one with him lol. Lucy: Do you think that your husband knows something about what is going on? Jane: No, I am sure that he suspects noting. He is very trusting, if he did he certainly would go into a fit. He can be very mean and I certainly wouldn't like to provoke him. Lucy: You did mention the other day that your husband had had a vasectomy after the birth of your last child, are you not afraid that Jason might impregnate you? Jane: No I am not worried about that since I have been on the pill for over a year now. Since Jason and I began to... Lucy: Your husband must never find out that you are taking pills, you must be hiding them somewhere safe I suppose? Jane: Yes they are hidden in a safe place. I still have a three months supply hidden in a shoebox in my bedroom. Each morning when he is in the shower I take my daily pill. I could tell that my wife was having fun telling her friend how easy it was to fool me. Not only was she cuckolding me but also she was deriving pleasure by making a fool out of me. But now I was preparing myself to ask her the big question. Lucy: Do you intend to leave your husband for Jason? Jane: This will never happen. I really love my husband and I certainly don't love Jason. Sex with Jason is great and wonderful but we don't make love if you see what I mean. This is why I am so on edge, I do want the sex with Jason to continue but at the same time I certainly don't want my husband to find out what I am doing. Lucy: Wow, you want your cake and you want to eat it too. You husband is bound to find out don't you think? Jane: No he won't, Jason and I we are very careful. Remember Jason is married also and he would get in deep trouble if his wife should find out about us. Lucy: Is Jason a better lover than your husband? Is he bigger than your husband is? Jane: No my husband is a wonderful lover but Jason is...well different. I suppose it is the excitement and the danger of being caught that makes it so good. As for Jason penis, well he is a little bigger but I don't think that it makes much difference. Like I said, Jake and I we make love while with Jason I have sex with him. Do you see the difference ha ha? I was shocked to discover how frivolously my wife was taking about her cheating. It was as if it was a game for her. I had to know if she realized the misery and hurt that she was causing my daughters and me when her mind was more often than not preoccupied with thoughts of her lover and not being caught. At the risk of damaging her friendship with Lucy, I asked her the following. Lucy: But are you not neglecting your husband? Surely he must be getting a lot less attention from you because of your affair? She didn't write back immediately and there was a long pause before she wrote her answer. Could it be, I told myself, that my wife had never thought about the effect of her cheating on me? Jane: Well...we do make love still. It is not as often as we use to but I don't believe that it really matter to him, he does love me a lot. After all I can't let him have sex with me when I am still leaking from Jason. If I did he would certainly find out what is going on. Lucy: But are you not afraid that he will start looking somewhere else for the attention that he's not getting at home? Jane: I have never though about it that way, but now that you mention it...Do you think it could happen? You just gave me something to worry about now Lucy. Lucy: Well it wasn't my intention to scare you, but still you should think about it. They (we) went on to talk about other matters for a while then before leaving, my wife told Lucy that in a few weeks she and Jason were going to Atlanta again for three days and she was all exited about it. I was shocked because she hadn't even talk to me about this trip yet. When we went to bed that evening, we both had difficulties to fall asleep. I didn't try to initiate sex with my wife that evening and for her part she also didn't encourage me to do so. It took me a very long time before I finally fell asleep. Next to me I could tell that Jane was also having the same problem. While lying next to her in our bed, I finally made up my mind that I was going to have a talk with her the next day since it was going to be Saturday. I was going to make a final effort so as to try to save our marriage. We were sitting at the kitchen table when I brought up the matter to her the following morning. "Jane have you notice that for the last few months our love life has been going down the drain. We used to make love two or three times per week and now we don't even do it once a week. It has been almost two weeks now that you and I haven't made love. Is there something wrong? Are you cheating on me?" She just stopped chewing on her omelet and looked at me. I could see that she was shocked by what I had just said, she wasn't expecting this from me. After all, never once in our seven years of marriage had I ever said anything like this to her. "You have a lot of nerve Jack to talk to me like that." My wife always called me Jake at home; she would use the name Jack only when she wasn't happy with me or when she wanted to make a point. I could tell by her look now that she was very angry with me. "How could you doubt me after all of those years that we have been together? I work hard, both at home and at the office and after all those years together it is only normal that our sex life should cool down a little. I don't think it's fair of you to even think this." "I am not accusing you, it's just that in the last year you have change a lot Jane. Even the presence of our daughters around you in the house seems to bother you. Have you notice that they seldom expect your attention now, they come to me each time they have a problem." I could tell that I had hit a sensitive cord as she looked at me with still more anger in her expression. It occurred to me then that it was hopeless to try and talk to her about our problem. "There are only 24 hours in a day and I don't have time to wipe the nose of those two brats all the time. It is only normal that you should help me." It was evident to me; judging by the way her expression suddenly changed, that she had said these words without thinking. Calling her daughters 'brats' was something a loving mother should never do, she must have realized this a few seconds later. But the word had left her mouth and she couldn't take it back now. The expression on her face gradually changed from one of anger to one of pain and all of a sudden she got up and went running to her room. Yes, it was clear to me that it was completely hopeless to try talking to her. As many women will do in these circumstances, they will simply use the 'crying fit excuse' to get out of a discussion which they aren't winning. Therefore I just dropped the matter for the moment. ***** Saturday afternoon, Jane went shopping as she usually did each Saturday. I knew that she probably went looking for a new outfit to wear for her upcoming trip with Jason in Atlanta. While she was gone and since the children were busy playing in their room, I began to look for her birth control pills in our bedroom. After fifteen minutes I found them in her walk-in. Just like she had said to Lucy, they were hidden inside a shoebox along with a pair of shoes. The pills were neatly set in a plastic rectangular dispenser. Inside the box, along with the already opened dispenser, there were two others sealed one. She had mention that she had been taking them for a full year now. It thus met that she must have started taking them right at the beginning of her affair with Jason. She certainly didn't want to get pregnant since she knew that I had had a vasectomy. If she did, there would be no way for her to explain her being pregnant except to admit that she was cheating on me. I felt a surge of sadness and anger; I even felt a little pity for her at that moment. How could she be so cruel to her family? In my eyes, at that moment, she no longer was the wonderful wife that I had married seven years ago. Where was that woman that I loved so much and who in turn cared for me more than she cared for herself? What had happened to her? I wanted my wife back but I knew that she was lost to me forever. I thought about my daughters while I still held the already opened pills dispenser in my hand. What was going to happen to our family? It was now plain to me that my marriage was over, at the same time I also knew that I would never leave my two daughters into her care. I began to cry for long minutes as I sat on top of our bed still holding the opened dispenser in my hand. Then despair replaced sadness in my heart, in turn this was accompanied by a strong urge to seek revenge against her and her lover. Slowly, as I sat on top of our bed, with my eyes still red and in tears, a plan began to develop in my mind. It was an evil plan. It wasn't something that a compassionate man would to do to his wife, but there was no more room for compassion and forgiveness in my heart. Vengeance and hatred had taken over most of my emotions now. After examining the pills that were in the dispenser, I carefully pull one out. I next took my two daughters to my mother's house and I went to the drug store. It took me half an hour to examine all the different bottles of pills on the shelves so as to find exactly what I wanted. I finally pick two different bottles that contain pills that were white and round and very similar in size to the pills that were in my wife dispensers. Only then, once I had both bottles in my hand did I read the labels on the bottles. On one bottle it said that the pills were for liver pains while the other contained aspirins for babies. I bought both bottles. Once home, I opened both bottles and taking a pill from each, I carefully compared them with the pill I already had from my wife's dispenser. The aspirin pill was just the right size to fit in one of the small holes of the dispenser, even though it was just a bit thicker. I then got myself busy replacing all the remaining pills from the opened dispenser with aspirin pills. Next I placed the dispensers back into the shoebox. I next went to pick my daughters from my mom's house. When my wife arrived home later, I just hoped that neither one of my daughters would mention that they had spent an hour at my mom's house. In any case I already had prepared an excuse for bringing them there. So life went on, and on Tuesday of the following week Jane told me that she was going to attend another convention in Atlanta for three days and two nights. When I asked her who was going there with her, she simply said it would be as usual, one of the secretaries from work was going with her. She didn't tell me which one of course. While she was in Atlanta she didn't bother to phone home once. Even so, our two daughters didn't seem to miss her while she was there, even though I did. The second day after she left, I phone – from a public phone – at the firm where she worked and I asked to speak to Jason Welden. I was told that he was out of town and would only be back the following week. I certainly knew where he was; he was busy playing the married husband with my wife. When Jane came back from Atlanta, she hugged me as soon as she walked into the house, later when our daughters were in bed in the evening, she took me by the hand and she led me to our bedroom. We made love for almost two hours that evening. I suppose that she was felling bad for not calling home once during these three days and she thought she could make it up to me by indulging me with sex. Or was it that she felt some remorse for having fucked Jason's brain out while she was with him, or could it be that she was sorry for what she has said to me about our daughters before leaving and she was trying to buy her words back by having sex with me. Yes, she was trying to win me back by granting me the privilege of using her body. For the last couple of months, she no longer considered my use of her body as my married right and every time we were having sex together, she was doing me a favor when she was allowing me the use of her body. In the last few months, her lover had now gained the exclusive right to her body, for the pass year he had gradually push me aside in the mind of my wife. She probably didn't realized yet that she had gone so far, but judging by the way that she had been treating me, I knew that I was second to Jason now. Of course I greatly enjoy sex with her that night when she got back home, to me it was like a wonderful breath of fresh air entering into my starving lungs. Yes, sex with Jane had always been great, after all I still loved her, but I still planned to get my pound of flesh from her. ******** Jane and Lucy continued to chat about twice a week and while chatting with her, I told her that I (Lucy) had started to go out with Roberto again. I even went into the intimate details of our lovemaking on the first time we got back together. I wanted to find out exactly what she had done with Jason and what she was still doing when she was fucking him. What better way to learn about her activities in bed than to describe what I (Lucy) was doing with my fictitious lover? Gradually I learned that my wife did things with her lover that she had never allowed me to do with her. For one thing he was fucking her in the ass on a regularly basis. Ever since we had been married I had tried to enter her rear hole but she always claimed that it was hurting her too much. Then while she sucked him – a thing she seldom did to me – she would swallow his cum. Reading her own words to describe it "I love to feel the slipperiness and the taste of his seed on my tongue", I felt devastated. It pained me terribly when she wrote these words to Lucy. She was still my wife and I recalled her once telling Lucy that she loved me more that life itself, how could she love me and do the things she did? What was wrong with her, I kept asking myself? She certainly wasn't acting like she still loved me. She was slowly killing me with neglect and indifference, how could she still claim to love me? After I made the changes of pills, I often checked the shoebox again to see if she was still taking them, I did notice that each day there was one pill less in the dispenser. As soon as the dispenser was empty she opened another one and I made the change of pills again after the first day. Two more weeks went by and I began to notice that she was beginning to pay more attention to me and to our daughters. She no longer had that empty look in her eyes; she was even laughing and smiling more often when she was home. Then one day, about two weeks after she got back from Atlanta, she got in from work one late afternoon and I could tell she had a problem. Something was bothering her and it was easy to see. When I asked her what was wrong, she just began crying and ran to her room. Even though I had a good idea what her problem was, it was confirmed to me when I checked her pills the next day. She hadn't taken them for the last two days. She was pregnant and she now knew it, which explained why she was no longer taking her daily pill. As soon as I had a chance, I replaced the remaining aspirin from the dispenser with the original birth control pills that I kept in a drawer of my office for that purpose. I did this just in case she brought the pills back where she bought them to complain about the fact that they hadn't done what they were suppose to do. The ball was beginning to roll now and I knew that very soon the shit was going to hit the fan. It wouldn't be long before my wife realize that her cheating on me for the last fifteen months was going to cost her much pain and suffering. Pain that certainly wasn't worth the hours of pleasure she had experienced in the arms of her lover. Even though I had tried a few times to get her to tell me what was bothering her, she had refused to open up to me and talk about her affair as well as her pregnancy. Had she admitted everything to me at that moment, I still would have divorce her and I still would have insisted that she has nothing to do with raising our two daughters in the future. But at least my looking for some form of revenge against her would have ended there. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime No she had to keep on lying to me and continue to take me for a fool. Even with a baby that was not mine growing inside her belly. I wasn't quite ready to let the cat out of the bag yet and tell her that I knew all about her cheating and her pregnancy. I wanted more proofs of her affair since it was my intention to sue the firm where she was working for breaking up my marriage. Jane hadn't chat with her friend Lucy for a couple of weeks – since the day before she had gone to Atlanta – and I was anxious to know if she was going to tell her about her pregnancy. So as soon as I saw her sit in front of her computer one evening after the children were in their bed, I ran in the basement and logged in to chat with her. She talked about her trip to Atlanta and she even bragged to Lucy how much she had enjoyed the two nights that she had spent in bed with Jason. She even told her that they had fucked half the nights away while they were together. On a sudden impulse I (Lucy) asked her if she was ready to leave her husband to be with Jason. But my wife surprised me again by telling her that she would never leave me since she love me. She wrote that when she was with Jason it was only sex she was having and she certainly didn't love him. But what stunned me the most was when she added that she was now looking forward to end her affair with him and getting back to being my loving wife again. But she never told her that she was pregnant. I had a big surprise for her if she expected to return to the way things were before she began cheating on me. For well over a year she had been fucking that bastard and giving him all the sex he wanted while at the same time she was more often than otherwise refusing her body to me. In other word she was giving freely to Jason what rightfully belonged to me. Friday evening she finally told Lucy that she was pregnant with Jason child. She and Jason were planning to go to a private clinic together so that she could have an abortion. She explained to Lucy that in two weeks time, on Wednesday the 14, she had an appointment in a clinic in Red River. It was a small town where the clinic was situated and she and Jason were going to spent a few days there so that she could recover after the abortion. Of course I printed everything so that I could use it against her. Red River was about an hour's drive from our house and the following day I took a few hours off work and drove there. Identifying myself as Jane's husband, I went to check at the registration if they could confirm the reservation for Jane abortion for the 14 and they did. I asked for a written confirmation with the clinic's stamp on it and at the same time I was able to get the name of the doctor who would be going to perform the abortion. He was Dr. Keith Miller. A week later, while we were all sitting at the table, Jane announced to me that once again she had to attend an important convention in Atlanta. She was going to be gone two nights once again. But she also added that this was the last time ever that she was going to attend a work related convention or meeting. I was not impressed since I knew the truth about her trip and she was kind of taken by surprised by my lack of enthusiasm about this being her last trip. I had already knew that things were cooling off between her and her lover and that was probably why she no longer planned to go on any convention in the future. But it was now much too late for me to ever consider forgiving her. I took the day off work on Wednesday the 14 and early in the morning, Jane kissed me before leaving the house. She then drove to the airport in her Toyota. I knew from her chatting that she only intended to park her car there; she was going to ride with Jason in his car to Red River. As soon as she was gone, I got into my car and I drove to Red River. I parked in front of the clinic in such a way that I had a clear view of the main entrance and I waited. About an hour later, with my digital camera in hand I took pictures of her and Jason entering the clinic. I had no trouble getting both of their face clearly on a couple of pictures. As soon as they were inside I drove away since I didn't want them to see me. On the 16 at around four in the afternoon – I was home since, unknown to Jane, I had taken two weeks vacation from work – Jane walked in the house carrying an overnight bag and a small suitcase. She looked pale and stressed and she was surprised to see me already home so early. Everything was now ready. The same day that Jane left for Red River, I went to see my lawyer and later we both drove to the firm where Jane was working. I was able to talk to Ronald Ross the president of the firm. I explained to him everything that had been going one between my wife and Jason Welden. I even told him that Jason had impregnated my wife and at that very moment they were both in a clinic in Red River so that she could get an abortion. I also told him that I was divorcing her and also I was suing Jason as well as the firm. Jason for alienation of affection and the firm for not enforcing the code of boss-employees relationship. I also told him that I was even willing to fight in court if necessary since I had all the proofs that I needed to win. I even had the photos of Jason and my wife entering the clinic together. We all knew that the bad publicity against the firm would be devastating and he asked me to hold things for a day so that he could talk with his associates on the matter. I know that he got his lawyers involved and they did ask many questions to the other secretaries and he also phone the clinic in Red River to confirm what I had told him. The following day, after much argument we agreed that I would receive half a million dollars in damage if I were to drop all charges against the firm. Of course Jason Welden was going to be fired and so was my wife. Then on second thought, since I didn't want to have to support her while she was out of work and also because of the fact that she was the mother of my daughters and I didn't want her to fall on welfare. I finally demanded that the firm continue to pay her salary for a full year and that they also pay all the counseling and health care she was going to need for the next five years. It was finally agreed and my lawyer had a long discussion with their lawyers and they prepared the documents, which I signed. Then a check was given to my lawyer. It was post dated until my divorce would be over since I didn't want my wife to be eligible to any of that money. I was all ready to face Jane now, I even had my lawyer prepare the divorce papers and a restraining order so that she would have to keep away from the house and from my daughters until our divorce was settled. In a letter that I placed in the envelope of the divorce documents, I explained to her that if she didn't agree with my conditions of divorce, then I was going to fight her in court. I would then ask for full custody of our daughters and she would never see them again. When Jane got back home the following day everything was ready and since it was now Friday I knew that she wasn't going to learn about the divorce and that she had lost her job until Monday morning. As soon as she entered the house I was waiting for her in the living room. She was surprised to see me home so early in the afternoon. "Jack why are you home so early, and why didn't you go pick the girls before coming home?" "I took the day off and our daughters are still with my mother. I have something important to discuss with you, this is why I didn't get them yet." "What could be so important that warranted you to take a day off?" "Well it all began a few weeks ago when I was changing the light bulb in the walk-in in our room. I had to move a few things so as to get the foot stool under the fixture and when I did this, a box fell opened and this is what I found inside." I went to the couch and took the shoebox with the shoes and the two remaining pills dispensers still in the box. I then place the whole box right in front of her on the living room's table. "Can you explain this?" The overnight bag that she still held in her right hand slipped from her hand to the floor and her whole face became ash-white. For a few seconds, an expression of emptiness hid her emotions but it didn't last long. Then all of a sudden she half shouted in a voice full of panic. "Oh God. Oh God. No, this is not happening" All of a sudden she had to sit on the arm of the couch. I could tell that her legs would no longer support her weight as her body began to sway back and forth. As she sat there with her hands pressed to the side of her face she was a sad sight to see. "Well dear faithful wife," I went on, "how can you explain these pills? Why are you afraid of getting pregnant when you know that I have had a vasectomy just after our second daughter was born? Unless... yes unless you have been fucking with someone else behind my back." "Jack...listen Jack. I can explain everything. You are making this look so vile and so out of proportion, just listen to me please." I could now read the distress and fear all over her face. Her lips were trembling and her hands were shaking as she looked at me with her tearful, and pleading eyes. But I kept on accusing her of her infidelity. "You have been fucking behind my back for who knows how long and you say that this affair that you are having is not vile. You have been giving to another man what you have been refusing to me and now I suppose that you think that you can talk your way out of all that cheating?" "I don't love him Jack and it is over. I have always love you and only you. Please let us talk, I need for you to listen to me, we must find a solution." Tears were freely flowing over her white blouse while her eyes were swollen and very red from the tremendous emotion and pressure that she was on at the moment. "How can you say that you love me when you have been cheating on me for God knows how many months? You have broken your marriage vows and you have betrayed me and our daughters." " I will tell you everything, I hope you will understand Jack. It is something that just happened and there has never been any love between us." "Yes, talk we must. You have a lot of explaining to do dear wife. First let us talk about your recent trip to Atlanta or should I say Red River." Had I hid her with my right fist between the eyes I don't think she wouldn't have been more surprise. She just looked at me with her mouth open and her eyes wide with horror. She did try to say something but nothing coherent came out of her mouth. "Yes Jane, I know all about Red River and why you went there. Would you like to enlighten me in case there is something that I don't understand?" All of a sudden she got up and ran to her room crying. For long minutes I just stood there debating in my mind whether I should go and check on her. I was worried that she might take pills and do away with herself and her problems, but I couldn't bring myself to check on her. She didn't come out of her room for the next two hours but later I did hear her take a shower after she had been crying for a long time. When she came out of her room wearing just her long gown she looked terrible. Her eyes were still red and swollen and her face was the image of pain itself. She slowly went to sit in front of me at the kitchen table and even though she didn't look at me straight in the face she asked me. "Jack what are you going to do? I don't want to loose you and I will do anything to make amend to you." "I think you are a little late for that now. Do you remember all those long months when I tried to be nice to you, when I was dying to make love to you? I would have lick your feet if you had asked me, but no you were saving yourself for your lover and giving him what was rightfully mine. You have been slowly killing the love I had for you Jane, there is very little left now." Again she went into a fit of crying with her head resting on her folded arms on top of the table. "Forgive me Jack, oh please say you still love me I beg you." At that moment I was tempted to reach for her and hold her in my arms. I still did love her as much as I did when we were married, but I knew it would be a mistake to admit this to her. In a calm voice I told her that she had to tell me everything. Who her lover was and how she had met him and the things that they had done together. She finally confessed everything to me. I don't think she lied since everything that she said seemed to confirm what I already knew. She also confessed her abortion in Red River, she also said that she had been having sex with Jason a couple of times per week. Sometimes in his office and once a week – in the afternoon – in a motel room. We didn't talk much during the rest of the weekend and early on Monday morning, as soon as she got to her office she was served with the divorce papers. A few minutes later the president of the firm told her that she and Jason were out of a job. Since I had a restraining order against her, she could no longer come home but she did phone me Monday at noon. She was devastated, before hanging up on her I told her that I was going to send her clothing to her mother and that she no longer had business coming at home and all the locks of the house had been changed. I heard later that after I hung up on her that day, they had to take her to the hospital since she collapsed as soon as I hung up. She was at her mother's house when she called me and her mom had to call an ambulance to get her to the hospital. Two weeks later she did sign the divorce papers and she accepted all of my conditions. I agreed to let her see our daughters at my mother's place for a couple of hours each Saturday. Six months later, I was free of her; I was no longer married to her officially. I heard from her mother that she was still very depress and on therapy, she had lost a lot of weight and she never went out of the house since she no longer worked. Gradually I did let her see our daughters more often and without supervision. I even allowed her to take them to her mother's house for a weekend. As time went on, I could tell that our daughters were getting more attached to their mother and I knew that this was going to be a problem sooner or later. A year after the divorce my mother was diagnostic with cancer and she no longer could take care of my daughters while I was working. Jane phoned me one day and she made me an offer. "Listen Jack, I know that your mother can no longer take care of our daughters while you work and I would be willing to assume that role if you want." "Jane I don't know what to say, do you think that it would be a good idea? For one thing your parents live almost thirty miles from here and the trip back and forth each day would be too much for the children. Beside I don't want to give any false hope of us getting back together to our daughters." I knew that saying that was a blow to her, but she didn't seem to react to what I had just said. She went on. "I was thinking that I could stay in the spare bedroom and go to my parents house each Friday evening after you got back from work. I could be just like a maid Jack, you can even pay me the same as you would a maid." "But what will people say? What will my friends say when they see you living here in the house with me? I have no intention of getting back with you Jane if this is what your are thinking." "No! No! It is not my intention to force myself back into your life Jack. I know that I did you wrong and for that I am willing to pay. I was only thinking of our daughters and what is best for them. I know that they would rather have their mother with them instead of a maid to take care of them. They would no longer have to commute back and forth with this arrangement." I finally did concede and Jane was back in the house with us. The children were calling her mom of course and I could tell that she was trying very hard to make it up for the time she had been neglecting them. Jane was also cooking me good meals every day and she kept the house spotless all the time. We had agreed on a decent salary, which I paid her every week and apart from her room and food, I didn't buy her any clothing. For all purpose, she was a maid and I did treat her like one except in front of the children. A few weeks later I had to attend the annual Christmas party where I was working and I asked Jackie, one of the secretaries working for the bank, to accompany me. The party was on a Saturday evening and Jane had agreed to remain in the house and stay with our daughters on that Saturday. I didn't come home that night since I spent the night with Jackie in her apartment. We had sex for half the night and even though I did enjoy it a lot, it didn't even come close to anything that Jane and I used to share. This is when I realized that I was still in love with Jane, even after the way she had treated me. I knew that I would probably always love her. When I got back home the following morning, Jane's eyes were puffed and red and I knew that she had been crying. She served me breakfast without saying a word but my daughters were constantly asking me questions as to why I didn't come into their room to wake them as I did every Saturday morning. I looked at Jane sitting at the table with us, her head was bent and she was looking at her plate while being very quiet. I knew that she now realized how I was feeling when I discovered her affair with Jason in the last year of our marriage. The following day, Sunday afternoon (she hadn't bother to go to her mother's house that weekend), while the children were playing in the yard, she proposed something to me that took me completely by surprise. We were sitting in front of the TV just like a married couple when she said to me. "Jack I know that I have not been a good wife to you when we were married. Everything that happened to me I do disserve and I am not complaining. But for the sake of our children do you think that it is a good idea that you should spend the night out like you did last night?" I knew that she was referring to my spending the night with Jackie the previous night. But it was none of her business and I was prepared to tell her so when she continued. " Our daughters are 7 and 8 now and they will soon begin to figure out what is going on if you start spending nights away from the house like you did last night. Can you imagine the impact this will have on them? Do you think they will respect you for what your are doing? I know that I deserve everything you are doing, but for the sake of our daughters please think about this." She was right of course and before asking Jackie to accompany me, I hadn't thought of it along those lines. Of course I didn't want to lose the respect that my children should have for their father and it got me to think. But on the other hand I had enjoyed the sex with Jackie and I was much to young to live a life of abstinence from sex. "I think it was a bad idea to have you here in the house with us Jane, even as a maid. Now we are both stuck in this situation where we can't start a new life on our own. I think that we should each go our separate way" "There is an other solution Jake. I know that you have sexual needs and so do I. Instead of your going out to find release with different women why don't you use me?" "For God sake what do you mean woman? Are you suggesting that we get back together just like it was before you make a cuckold out of me?" "NO! NO! Please Jake, I am just proposing that you use my body, no attachment and no love, just plain sex. That way we will both get something out of it and in the eyes of our daughters we will be the loving parents that they deserve." Let The Punishment Fit The Crime... This didn't work out entirely as planned, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway! * "I'm really, really sorry." She glared at him. Sorry might be the hardest word, but she would have much preferred him not to have let her down in the first place. "If there is any way I can make it up to you..." "Have you the slightest idea how fucking embarrassing it is to be stood up on Valentine's Day? I looked like a complete loser..." He closed his eyes for a second, the expression on his face pained. "Oh, God. Look, I know I fucked up..." "Just a bit," she interrupted with a snarl." "Please, please... Honestly, it was unavoidable, I... I really, really wanted to be there. You have no idea how much... I will, I really will make it up to you, I swear..." He was pleading now, and although she let no sign of it show on her face, she couldn't help being slightly swayed by his protestations. It was, after all, true; lawyers at his firm were not supposed to have personal lives, and short of quitting the job that meant they could afford their Chelsea flat, he had not had much option. And forgetting her cell phone when she'd set out for the fancy restaurant had not been a wise move on her part, either. She turned her back on him, and let a fleeting grin pass over her face. No, it wasn't the divorce-worthy offence it had felt last night, when she had been sat, alone, looking like a total ass, and totally livid, but... she had been right. There was definitely mileage in this one to make him pay. She felt him move up behind her, burying his face in her hair as he murmured his apologies into her ear. Yes, she definitely had the upper hand she had been hoping for, preparing for... she might as well make use of it. Slowly she turned around into his arms, as she moved beginning to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. His eyes widened in confusion, and she felt him start to respond to her. "OK." He was still completely confused. "OK what?" "You can make it up to me. Starting now." She had reached the last button and the white cotton gaped open. "You know what I like," she told him, leaning her backside against his desk, her tone curt and businesslike. "I... I..." She glared at him; she could see the sentences forming in his brain, that this was his workplace, that the door wasn't even locked; that though the junior staff members would not dare disturb him, the senior partners could walk in at any moment. That she should not even really be here. He had evidently decided that her wrath was liable to be worse than his boss's, or at least that hers was staring him in the face. His boss might discover him in flagrante delicto and bust his ass, but at least it was only a possibility, not the certainty of anger right in front of him. He reached up and pushed the material away, exposing the swell of her flesh under the pale pink lace of her bra. Tenderly cradling her breasts, he bent to tease her nipple through the satin of the cup with his teeth and his tongue, and she let her head loll back. He caressed and massaged, and she sighed with pleasure, but eventually she reached up to hook her thumb into the edge of the right cup, dragging it down till the nipple popped free. "Come on," she muttered, liberally lacing her tone with annoyance, so he would know she was not going to let him off lightly. He glanced up at her; she could see on his face that he was struggling between the realisation that she was going to push him as hard as she could, with no thought for the consequences, and the reluctant arousal that came with the risk, the fact that there she was, in his office, practically forcing him to undress her. She grinned as he lowered his mouth again; she would bet that if she cared to find out, she would discover that he was already rock hard. He swirled his tongue expertly over her nipple and the naked skin of her breast, and she allowed herself to groan gently, reaching up to caress his dark hair. Evidently deciding that he might as well enjoy his role, he slipped his hands around her back and deftly unhooked her bra, then pushed her blouse off over her shoulders. She quickly shrugged it off, but let him slowly peel away her bra, teasing her with light touches from the tips of his fingers as he did so. He gazed at her for a moment, enjoying the sight of his wife half naked on his own desk. Without even thinking about it, he reached up to loosen his tie, and she slapped his hands away and then grabbed the offending item and tugged him close. "You don't get to be comfortable," she whispered, then summarily pushed his face back down into her cleavage. He got the message. She let him boost her up so she was sitting on the edge of the desk, and then on impulse lay back so that he had to lean over her. She was, she knew, probably crushing important legal documents, but she was more engrossed in the feel of his mouth as he took each of her nipples into his mouth and then both at once. He was getting into his part; he mouth moved to her belly without her insistence, and she let herself drift as he nibbled and licked his way south, his hands lightly feathering up her sides and then moving back to tweak her nipples. He hesitated at her waistband, looking up at her with pleading eyes. She gave a one shouldered shrug. The implication was clear -- she was not going to let him off that lightly. He pulled away and turned, moving towards the door. "Don't lock it," she barked, and his face fell. He was debating the wisdom of giving in to her, but the idea that they could get caught at any moment was too enticing to give up out of pity. She stared him down, and eventually he let out a breath, resigned, and crossed back to look down at her. Unrelenting, she pointedly placed his hand on the zip of her skirt; he drew in a deep breath, and slowly edged it down, as if he were hoping she would change her mind. She flicked open the button herself, and then sighed with satisfaction as he slipped the garment down her thighs until it dropped to the floor. She heard his groan, one part lust to two parts despair, when he saw that she was wearing hold up stockings and tiny, shiny black bikini briefs. She leaned her head back to the desk and allowed herself another grin as she let her thighs fall open slightly. She knew exactly how he would react to the barely-clad sight of her freshly denuded pussy, and it had been worth every strip of wax. He pressed himself into her, reaching for her breasts, and she could feel how hard he was through the formal trousers as he leaned over her to kiss her. Or at least to try to. "I don't want you kissing my mouth," she said, then smiled lasciviously. She could see in his face that for a moment, he had forgotten that he was atoning. The realisation that his cock was going to have to wait its turn fell like a shadow across his expression. "Oh fuck," he murmured, his voice unnaturally high pitched. "And no cheating," she added. "I want your--" she grabbed his crotch "--full attention." He nodded; "Habeas corpus," she thought to herself, as she let him go and pushed his head down to her belly again, then lay back to enjoy his ministrations. His senses on high alert, he noticed for the first time in years how good her skin tasted, how soft it was; how much of a turn on it was when he nipped her flesh and she shuddered at his touch. Even reluctant, his perfectionist spirit forced him to be thorough; she squirmed in pleasure as he nibbled his way lower, his hands stroking her backside, tickling her inner thigh. He let his mouth drift achingly lightly over her, the fine, semi-transparent fabric just enough to make her wish he would rip it off already, and then ran his tongue up the crease at the top of her leg. Already turned on by the situation, by the power she held over him, the teasing she was used to was suddenly almost unbearable. He licked her through the fine material and she bucked beneath him; he slipped a finger inside her panties to run along her slit, and she swore aloud. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of the briefs and began to side them slowly down her legs, and she had to bite her tongue not to tell him to get a fucking move on and eat her out already. With each inch of flesh exposed, he kissed her skin again, deliberately letting his lips trace a line somewhat tamely down her leg, knowing it would infuriate her. Then finally he let the garment drop down to her ankles. Gently, he spread her thighs, hooking her knees over his shoulders. "You're delicious," he murmured, and the heartfelt words turned her on almost as much as his skilful and well practised foreplay. He leaned in close, and she heard him inhale; she imagined his face as he savoured the scent of her arousal. He leaned in a little further, and she felt his breath against her, hot against her skin; and then he gently licked into her. The contact that she had been anticipating since before she had entered the room was electric, and her chilly facade dropped as she gasped his name, and grasped hold of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. Hungrily, he lapped at her, sucking and licking like a man dying of thirst whose only source of moisture was her wet pussy. She had been used to getting good head, but today it seemed like he was inspired. His tongue danced over her slick folds, and when he took her clit into his mouth she almost cried out. Biting on her lip, she managed to stifle her moans of pleasure. She felt him slip a couple of fingers inside her; she moved against his touch, and then gasped as he found her g-spot. The orgasm she had been trying to hold back burst over her, and she bucked under him. Still he licked her, and as the spasms of ecstasy began to fade he sucked hard and despite her best efforts she couldn't help crying out as she began to come again. Intent on her own pleasure, she clasped his head to her crotch, and he continued to lap at her, circling her now swollen and sensitised clit, riding the very edge of what she could bear. Finally, she could take no more, and pulled him away. His face was soaked with her juices, and he looked dazed -- a little how she felt, she realised. "Need you... inside me... now," she gasped out, pulling herself up so that she could reach for him, fumbling to get to his fly and free the hard on that was making a tent in his trousers. For a moment he was still not caught up with events, but then he was aiding her, and his cock was free in seconds, his hands parting her thighs again, entering her even before she was ready, afraid she would change her mind. He was hard and thick inside her, and she relished the feel of him, how he filled her, how he parted her lush wetness again and again. Her body and senses already flying, it seemed only moments till she was gasping again, so close, her arms around his neck but her head thrown back, and then she shuddered as another intense orgasm rolled over her. He did not lose his rhythm for a second, and as she resurfaced she could hear in his voice that her body contracting around his hard-on had brought him close to the edge. For a moment, she considered having mercy, and then she pushed him away and scooted herself further onto the desk; missing the feel of him inside her, but reminding herself that this was, after all, his punishment. He stood, gaping, his cock shiny wet from her pussy, and looked at her, dumbfounded. She gently shoved him away from the desk to give her room to hop down, and began to gather her clothing. "But... but I... you..." Slipping her skirt up over her thighs, she glanced up at him. "You don't get to come just yet, my sweet," she told him, her voice saccharin. She quickly donned her bra and then retrieved the crumpled blouse from the floor. As she buttoned it, she commented, "Damn, I am going to have to iron this again..." He simply stared at her, his face a picture as he realised that yes, she really did mean it. She picked up the black briefs and shoved them into his unresisting hand. "You can keep these for the moment." She grinned wickedly. "There's a matching bra... I was wearing them last night, too." She cocked her head to one side and looked at him speculatively. "If you're very, very good, I might show you." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and he realised, with a jolt that made his cock ache, that besides the extra flush to her cheeks, no one would know she had just come her brains out, or that her delicious, naked pussy was only inches out of sight under her staid looking skirt. Suddenly she reminded him of the eighteen year old he'd met at college, and he remembered how they had fucked like rabbits every chance they had got... "Happy Valentine's Day," she said, and the strolled away from him, as casual as if she had just stopped by to drop off a card. "You should let me down more often." She turned back to look at him with her hand on the door and looked him up and down, nodding in satisfaction as she noted the raging hard-on that still refused to fade. Later... later they would both get what they wanted. And this would fuel their fantasies for weeks, she was sure. "See you at home." She winked and sidled out, closing the door behind her. He stared at it for a second, then down at his erection, wondering which was the worst risk; being caught jerking off, or attempting to work through complex cases with her scent hanging in the room like nasal Viagra and most of the blood in his body concentrated in his crotch. He shook his head as he crossed the room and locked the door, then turned to lean on it, so in need of immediate release that he didn't even move to sit back down. She knew how to make her point, he thought, as he began to pump his hand up and down his cock; and he wondered if he'd have to wait till next year before he got the chance to stand her up again... Let the Punishment Fit the Criminal After quietly opening the locks, the door crashes open with a single kick. Racing in, gun in hand, I scan the rooms to either side of the hallway as I enter. Seeing nothing, I clear the hallway to see you sitting upright in a recliner, a shocked expression plain on your face. My uniform tells you I’m a cop without me having to say it, but I clarify it anyway, “Police!” “Lemme see your hands!” I call as I cautiously approach you. You are dressed nicely with a low-cut peasant blouse and black slacks, as if you’d just gotten home from the office. Your shock at my sudden entrance has given me the edge that I need and you are extremely compliant. You obey by putting your hands up, revealing more of your luscious cleavage, which only makes me more determined. “Stand up,” I say and watch your form rise from the chair, revealing the previously hidden curves of your body. I am somehow able to focus enough on regulations to get you to lean against the nearby bookshelf. I move around behind you, your subtle, yet intoxicating perfume filling my nostrils as I stand there a moment, taking you in with all my senses. Your breathing is coming fast, but mine is faster still. You put your hands behind your head at my command and I reach to my belt and pull the handcuffs from it. I snap them home on one wrist with a simple click and I pull that hand to the small of your back, bringing the other hand down to meet it as you quiver slightly beneath me. I proceed to cuff the other hand and I bring you with me through the apartment as I check to ensure there are no hidden dangers lurking around the place. I close the front door as I pass it and I follow you throughout the apartment, gun pointed in front of you, just in case. Your bedroom is the last of the places to search and I instruct you to sit on the bed. You sit on the edge as I stand in front of you, your gaze moving over me from head to toe. The uniform covers my large frame comfortably, the many pockets of my belt containing an assortment of typical law enforcement tools. Desire for what lies beneath the uniform floods you with warmth as you sit before me. The growth in my uniform pants gives me away as much as the rapid heaving of my chest. The badge glints in the light as you finally stare at my eyes, despite the fact that your target is closer to your reach. Leaning forward, you place your mouth on the hardness in my pants and you feel it stir violently it under the fabric. The gun drops to the floor with a thud as I fight to remove my belt while you continue to breathe your heat on me. The belt falls limply around my waist, and in an instant I have my pants lowered enough to reveal myself to you. You waste no time, eyes still locked on mine, you take me in your mouth, my hands running through your silky hair as I gasp my approval of your every movement. Everything is done with your incredible lips since your hands are helplessly clasped behind you. The swelling of my member tells me you are close and I pull you off of me roughly as you pout in disappointment. I push you backwards onto the bed and roll you over onto your stomach. Your knees don’t quite touch the floor and I am able to pull down your slacks with ease. The view enflames me and I grab you firmly, rubbing my hands all over your backside and raising your shirt. Sliding down your back, the soft kisses I lay on you contrast sharply with the roughness from moments before. My kisses bring me further and further down until I am kissing and nibbling all over your ass, attempting to give equal treatment to each square inch of your backside. My trail leads me to the wetness of you, and I hungrily lick you, tasting you. They could have my badge for this, but I this is worth it. My tongue flicks across your lips and drops to the crest of them, driving you mad with pleasure. My entire face is slamming you with each lick as I fuck you with my tongue, stopping occasionally to savor both the taste of you and your whimpered begging for more. You tighten up your legs and gasp into the mattress as waves of release flood through you. I stop my assault long enough to ram home my desire for you. I am in you completely within moments, but your arousal has made you more than ready for me. Gripping your hips, I assault you with slow hard thrusts. Each stroke firm and unyielding, I angle myself to find the best position, judging by your moans when I have the right spot. I am so close to release that it hurts, and I pull myself from you, leaving you gasping for breath and begging for more. I reach down to the belt on the floor and unlock one of your wrists while rubbing my other hand over you. There is more of you to be explored. I flip you onto your back and bodily lift you more completely on the bed, following you onto the mattress and placing myself between your glorious thighs. I cuff your hands back together in front of you and place them over your head. Slipping my hands under your shirt, I pull it over your head and up your arms as high as the handcuffs will allow. Lust is not enough to describe what you see in my face as I gaze at your beauty. Pure unbridled passion is the only way to describe it. I slide back into you and lean down to kiss your breasts. Full and thus far untouched, they respond to me as I thrust and suck. It doesn’t take long before you close your eyes and begin to quiver beneath me, gripping me inside you with an intensity rivaled only by the sun itself. My mouth moves from your breasts to your shoulders, neck and throat and my thrusts must now push past your clenching muscles within you. Finally reaching your mouth, I kiss you and you return the kiss so deeply that it brings me to an explosion of my own, filling you with myself as I slip my arms around you in a loving embrace. It takes several moments for both of us to finish our erupting passion and I hold you tightly throughout. After the room clears and we can both see again, I raise up to look into your eyes. “What’s the charge, officer?” you ask me, still catching your breath. “Robbery. You’ve been stealing my heart every day for the last four years,” I answer. “Happy Anniversary.” You smile and pull your still handcuffed arms around my neck. “Just wait till you see MY present,” you say with the most wicked of grins.