“Me… hmm. Well aside from my job, for fun, I like the jet set lifestyle. International travel, fast cars, and hot ladies,” with this he looks at Lara and Missy, winks and goes on. “We don’t have any kids, so for my wife and me, we still party and just LIVE.”
Reading between the lines, I hear him say that he is either unfaithful to his wife, or they have some kind of swinging/open marriage type of relationship. I start to re-asses my original appraisal of this man. I also notice that Lara has her hand on his thigh, and it isn’t just a friendly gesture. I took another sip of my beer. Man this Mr. Adams guy sure did something right.
At this point my cell phone rings. I answered, and hear my wife, “Hey honey. You about done there?”
Missy, being closer to me, gives me a look and moves her hand onto my thigh as well. “What about you, James? Do you like to party?” I gently picked her hand up, and rested it back on her lap.
At seeing this, the suit pipes up. “What, don’t you think Missy is hot?” Seriously, my opinion of him was WAY off, if he thinks that I am about to cheat on my woman.
“James, who the hell is that?” my wife asks, sounding a little irritated.
“Honey, I am at the Portside, just having a celebration drink with the FEMA guy. I should be home soon…”
“FUCK YOU!” She yelled at me, and hung up without saying ‘I love you’, like she always does. What the HELL was that all about? I tried to call her back, but she let it roll to voice mail. I sent her a quick text, saying ‘I love you and leaving now sorry’.
“Mr. Hood, to answer your question, yes Missy is very beautiful. I just choose to remain faithful to my wife.” With that, I finish the last of my beer, and got up to go. “Mr. Hood, ladies, it’s been fun and I am glad we could get the business at hand done. Sadly it’s time for me to head home. Enjoy the rest of your stay here in Virginia, and I hope to see you again.”
I am sure this wasn’t the reaction they were expecting, but oh well, tough shit. I go out to the car, get in and head for home. As I drive, I wonder again, where the fuck my partner was. Was my wife really that pissed that I had a drink after my meeting? Why were the FEMA people so forward with me? I knew that when I got back, Cyrus and I were going to have some serious words about this day and night. I also knew that I needed to seriously mend some bridges with my wife.
The trip took about twenty minutes. I tried calling my wife one more time, but it went to voice mail again. I get home, and see that my daughter’s car is gone, but it looks like Cyrus is parked in her spot instead. OK, I guess he and I get to have that argument about this shitty day right now. I have no idea why he would be at my house, unless he came to tell me why he wasn’t at that bar.
I parked behind my wife’s Jeep, and head up the path to our front door. The door was unlocked, so I opened it and walked into the living room. What awaited me was the very last thing I had ever expected. Here in my living room, bent over the couch, was my loving wife being royally fucked by my partner Cyrus. She had her dress flipped up over her back, and panties apparently missing completely. She was grunting with each push he made, and he was standing behind her grunting as well. He looked like he had just opened his fly, whipped out his dick and shoved it right in her. Time lost all meaning. I was literally frozen to the ground.
Caitlin turned her head to see me standing there, and went from sexual bliss to a look of complete contempt. She may have even snarled a little before speaking.
“Do this look as good as when you FUCK THOSE SLUTS, HONEY?!” she yells at me.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” I yell at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
She still looks pissed, and yells back, “The SLUTS you were drinking with. The SLUTS that you’ve been FUCKING behind my back! Oh Godddd… Ooohhhhh.”
Now I am completely lost. Not only is she getting rammed, quite forcefully I might add, by my partner, but she is accusing me of cheating? I think a large part of me died right then, and upon reflection, more died with the following few days. While she was getting jack-hammered, I started to boil over.
This shit was going to stop, regardless of whatever my wife thought. I advanced towards them, but stopped suddenly as Cyrus turned and point a pistol at me. Where the fuck did that come from? I seriously need to re-evaluate my opinion of a lot of people in my life, apparently. Maybe I am just too trusting. At least he stopped banging my wife for a minute. The rage was growing, but I also had a moment of hesitation.
“Don’t move,” he warns me, with an evil sort of smirk. He was almost challenging me to take that step. I could see it in his eyes, a gleam like he was looking forward to shooting me. Who the FUCK is this guy, really?
I turn to my wife, “I don’t know what the FUCK you are thinking. I have NEVER cheated on you, EVER! Obviously you can’t say the same! The meeting tonight was bullshit, and I went with that administrator guy and two of his employees for a drink, before coming home. I wasn’t SCREWING ANYONE!”
As he continues to point the gun at me, he resumes fucking my wife. At least she has the decency to at least look away from me now. “He showed me pictures, asshole… Over on the table… if you really want to see….” she pants as she is getting plowed. Seriously, I am about to throw up just being in the same room as these two. She moans and shudders as she quakes with a minor orgasm, I would know that sound anywhere.
I look over, and sure enough there are several large photos on the table. I really don’t care at this point, knowing that I never cheated on her. They must have been fakes, or photoshop’d pictures. I look at Cyrus, and see that he is really pumping into her furiously at this point. He slams home a few more times, then grunts and pulls on her hips hard, as he obviously unloads into my wife’s pussy. Some guys might get turned on by some shit like this, but it just made me want to throw up. I was going to kill these two, with extreme prejudice.
While he is finishing unloading into my wife, the rage in me boils over. Gun or no gun, I rush him and swing wildly with my right fist. I connect with the left side of his face, and he stumbles back, popping out of my wife’s now very sodden hole. She screams and falls all the way onto the couch, as he turns the gun on me again. Before I can take another swing at him, I hear a loud pop. The gun’s report was so loud, that my ears were ringing. I fell backwards hard, landing on the coffee table. That thing wasn’t designed to break the fall of human being, so naturally it busted into pieces under me, making me fall to the floor in a pile of broken wood.
It’s odd, feeling like this. I wasn’t sure where he hit me, but my chest hurt like hell. I felt dizzy, but it was kind of a calming effect on me, to be honest. I suppose if I am going to die, it might be for the best. My ex-best friend just shot me in the chest, after fucking my wife and blowing his load inside her. My wife, my loving dear wife, just got done cheating on me, making me watch, and ripped my figurative heart out. Yes, death actually sounded like a good idea now.