A Cheating Cliche -- Almost

Too jazzed up to sleep I went to the hotel bar. The hotel was very fancy and the bar crowded. Out of the corner of my eye I saw probably the most beautiful woman I had ever seen live in my life. Even though I was brimming with self-confidence with women ever since I got the gorgeous and sultry Denise to fall in love with me, and certainly enhanced by my experience with Sheila, I simply gave her an appreciative glance and said "out of my league" to myself; not that I would have tried to seduce her anyway since I had resolved after Sheila that she would be my one and only extramarital fling.

I did occasionally notice that almost every guy in the bar area approached the live wet dream at one time or another, but she didn't leave with anyone.

The crowd started to thin slightly when I felt someone's arm brush against mine. I turned to look and was startled by the vision in front of me. Up close she looked even better with a face out of a cosmetics ad and a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition, or better, body.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she whispered while pretending to laugh and touching my shoulder with her hand.

"All I can do is say yes or no, so ask away," I replied, smiling.

"Can you pretend that you know me; my name is Sherri. There are two guys over there I don't want to be associated with that are hitting on me and don't seem to want to take 'no' for an answer. I told them that I'm with you, so can you pretend that I am?" she said softly, again every once in a while giving a fake demonstrative laugh.

"Sure," I replied, "I'm Bryce. What are you drinking?"

"Just club soda, I'm working," she replied.

I ordered a club soda, looked over to where she had been sitting and noticed two chubby homely guys that seemed to get dejected looks on their faces and then start exiting the bar.

"Don't turn your head too obviously but I think that your 'friends' are leaving," I said. "I hope that I helped."

"Oh, you certainly did," she said, smiling. Her club soda arrived and she took a sip. Then while chatting with me she looked in the mirror in back of the bar and saw the two guys she wanted to avoid actually exiting.

"You don't have to leave now that they're gone, do you?" I asked. "I have something to celebrate and no one to celebrate it with me."

"What are you celebrating?" she asked.

"The largest advance I've ever gotten on a contract, and the highest profit margin I've ever built into one," I responded with a gleam in my eye.

"Well that is something to celebrate," she said, and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I was now officially in a good mood. We chatted some more – she was very friendly but not physical – when I noticed that her drink was empty. "Another club soda?" I asked.

"Thanks," she grinned.

After ordering it I thought back to her comment when I got the first one. "You said you're drinking club soda because you're working; what's your business?'

"I'm a high priced escort," she matter-of-factly quietly replied.

I was barely able to avoid spitting out the remnants of my scotch and soda that I had just sipped. I thought that I recovered well.

"What does 'high-priced' mean?" was all that I could think to ask, although it was not because I was considering purchasing her time.

"It really means two things. One is that I charge $1200 to spend the night, lesser amounts for shorter lengths of time with a minimum of $400. Secondly, I'm very picky. Tonight alone I've shot down six guys who were willing to pay the fare, including the two chubby guys that you scared away who were willing to pay $2000 for a threesome," was her cool reply.

"Do you enjoy your work?" I asked for lack of a better question.

"Very much so; I love sex and meeting new guys. If someone doesn't enjoy it they shouldn't be a call girl – I mean escort," she shot back, then laughed.

"Do you work for an agency or do you freelance?"

"I freelance; I don't need anyone's help getting clients, especially at top-of-the-line hotels," she smirked, almost like she was insulted by the question. "Have you ever paid for sex?" she asked.

"Not except with an exotic dancer at a bachelor party when I was twenty one and single," I laughed, thinking back on the bachelor party before Jim's wedding. I had fucked the stripper that I prevented Jim from fucking. "Why, do I meet your standards?"

"As long as you're married and live out of town, you do," she replied.

"Why does that make a difference?" I asked.

"Local or single guys can be so messy, especially local and single guys" she replied with kind of a disgusted look. "They want to date afterwards. I get all of the sex I need in my job and am not ready to start a family so I don't date."

During the entire time that we talked I ogled her body. With the exception of Denise's tits every part of her body appeared to be better than any part of any other woman I had ever seen in my life, and she exuded enough sex appeal to drown an elephant. I had quickly become interested.

"Sherri, I would love to hire you but I'm not going to write a check and I have only about $300 in cash," I said staring at her intently.

"Do you have an ATM card?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied.

"And enough money in your account?"

"Yes, I do," I said.

"There's an ATM machine in the hotel right outside the bar which will dispense $400. I'll spend the night with you for $1100 – you can get the other $400 tomorrow morning since you can use the machine every eight hours. Plus, I have a guarantee," she said biting her thumb.

"What's the guarantee," I said now truly interested.

"Actually, two of them. The first is that if we get into your room and you don't think that I have the best naked body you've ever seen live then I'll give you a free blow job and leave. The second is that if sex with me isn't the most physically – not emotionally but physically – satisfying of your life you only pay me the $700 you'll have after the first ATM run, not the extra $400 you'll need to get tomorrow morning."

I slipped her a key card for my room. "Room 2121; I'll be up after I stop at the ATM, Sherri." She gave me an evil smile and left. I actually had $426 in cash already so I paid the bar bill with cash, went to the ATM, and then went upstairs.

I'm not going to describe the sex with Sherri in detail because words can't do it justice. Let me just say that she started out with a naked blowjob that was the best that I ever had by a mile, and then two fucks. Even though the fucks were with condoms they were phenomenal, as was her extreme body contact.

In general it was an other-worldly experience. Needless to say she delivered on her guarantees and after a morning shower together I invited her to breakfast. After we ordered I got the other $400 from the ATM and surreptitiously passed it to her under the table while we were eating.

After we finished breakfast as she left she asked "Do I have a satisfied customer in you, Bryce?"

"More than satisfied – thrilled," I replied smiling. "You do have one problem, though, Sherri."

"What's that, Bryce?" she asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"You don't charge enough!" I replied with a big smile.

She liked that. We squeezed hands goodbye since we were in public and a smooch wasn't called for.

I was able to rationalize the Sherri incident even more easily than the Sheila one since it was "Just business." Also, Sherri taught me a little trick called the "Sicilian Corkscrew" that I used on Denise when I got home that caused her to go wild. That may not have been the smartest thing to do right after coming home from a trip, however, since once she regained her senses she asked "Where did you learn that?"

I'm not sure that she bought my explanation of "I just stumbled across it in an article in some magazine," but she never complained when I used it on her.

So it's clear that I'm not the perfect husband when it comes to fidelity although in my defense I had been hit on in the Denver area on at least a dozen occasions, including by some beautiful, if flawed, women and including even when Denise was out of town, and never even went to square one with any of them.

That brings me to Jim and Denise. I saw the signs at least about four months before the main event, but ignored them, writing them off to just a plutonic fascination that Jim had had with Denise since college.

The signs included: Jim and Denise being chummy at parties, dinners, or simple get-togethers; noticing a second cell phone in Denise's office (both of our offices were at home) that I had never seen before; unusually long meetings by Denise with clients while I was with the kids; calls to our house that went unanswered when I was out-of-town, though followed up relatively soon afterwards with return calls; little love notes from Denise on my desk; Denise sometimes immediately showered when she came home; and much more frequent changing of the sheets on our bed.

Our sex life, either frequency or intensity, did not get one iota worse, however, nor did her non-sexual affection toward me. That may have been what caused me to rationalize the other signs for several months.

There wasn't one event that triggered installation of six state-of-the-art HD cameras in my house while Denise was with the kids visiting her parents for two days. Rather it was the culmination of events and my recognition that they had started to distract me.

The cameras were motion activated and designed to transmit images and sound in real time over the Internet. The data was easily retrieved, using a password, when I turned my laptop computer on but cloud-stored even if my computer was off. I hadn't really thought about what I would do if my suspicions were correct, most likely because I convinced myself that I was paranoid and that the cameras would just prove it to me.

Two days after Denise got back from her parents' house I had a trip to Colorado Springs, only about an hour away. However, I told Denise that it was to Casper, Wyoming, about four hours away but close enough that she would not be suspicious that I decided to drive there. I told her the trip was for four days, not the two it really was for, although I was going to stay an extra two if necessary to appease my suspicions.

The first night, and the next morning, that Denise was back we had two really excellent love-making sessions, one after I practiced the Sicilian Corkscrew on her, which almost rendered her comatose before I could fuck her. The night before I was to leave, however, she turned me down – very unusual for her – making me more suspicious.

The first night I was gone there were thunderstorms throughout most of Colorado, the worst expected to be in the Denver area. While watching TV in my hotel room I had my laptop fired up and all of the camera images displayed at once on split screen, but the sound off. I called Denise and the boys just before the boys' bedtime and was actually able to watch all three talk to me. Denise was lovey-dovey when she signed off.

As soon as the boys went to bed Denise changed into sexy negligee. "Oh shit," I grumbled to myself. She was in the bathroom for quite a while – I didn't see what she did there because I had no camera in there – but I can imagine. When she came out she went to check on the boys and apparently found that they were asleep because she then went to her office. From a locked desk drawer in her office she took out the second cell phone that she had once inadvertently left out on top of her desk the day that I saw it. I immediately switched on the volume.

"Hi, Hon, it's me. The boys are asleep so get your ass over here pronto," Denise said with a devilish grin.

The call wasn't made to me.

Jim showed up in ten minutes – about the time that it would take him to drive from his office – and parked in the driveway. He ran from his car to the front porch of my house holding an umbrella, and got a big kiss from Denise at the entryway.

Jim took off the wet part of his clothes on the first floor then followed Denise upstairs, pinching her beautiful round ass on the first few stairs. There was no longer a camera covering the action on the rest of the stairway.

When Jim got to the bedroom he stood there smiling while Denise undressed him as he removed the top of her negligee and rubbed her nipples on her perfect tits. He smiled, she giggled.

Once Jim was naked Denise got on her knees and sucked his cock. While I had never seen him hard before it looked to be virtually exactly the same size as mine. She gazed up at him as she did, and he couldn't take his hands off her fabulous tits.

Once Jim started groaning Denise stood up, led him to our bed and giggled even more as he pulled off her negligee bottom and dove into her obviously recently shaved pussy. She was clearly enjoying his activity and had a significant orgasm. Once she did he got on his knees and turned her over. He reached over and pulled a tube of lube out of the nightstand – he knew exactly where it was – then lubed up his dick and Denise's asshole.

I had never asked Denise for an ass fuck and she never indicated any interest in one. I would have accommodated her if she were interested – I just like her pussy so much I never saw a need for it.

This clearly was not their first ass fuck. Jim lubed her asshole in what looked like a ritual including one, then two, then three finger penetrations. Denise encouraged him throughout. As soon as Jim extracted his three fingers he shoved his cock in and pounded Denise hard as she moaned in pleasure. There was no doubt when first he, then she, had an orgasm.

What happened after Jim withdrew his cock from her ass was the most disturbing part to me. So far it had just been sex; then it became love. They cuddled, stroked each other with Jim obviously enjoying Denise's tits, then the worst thing possible.

"I love you, Jim."

"I love you Denise," followed by a passionate kiss.

I almost stopped watching it. It was lucky that I didn't.

After about five more minutes Jim said "I've got to get back to the Italian Tyrant. When is 'robot man' coming back from Casper?"

I assume that I was "robot man," something that Jim had never called me to my face or in my presence.

"Thursday night. Can we have another session Wednesday night? I'll ride you reverse cowgirl!" Denise giggled.

"Well at least she didn't say something derogatory about me," I mused.

"You can ride me reverse cowgirl as long as I can finger your ass while you do," he laughed, getting him a playful punch.

"What's this fascination with my ass lately? Don't you like my pussy?" she laughed.

I didn't like the use of the word "lately," or his reply.

"Your pussy is the best; but so is your ass," he laughed then headed into the bathroom.

By then I was almost ready to throw up, and my heart was broken.

Denise, still naked, leaned back against our metal headboard with a satisfied look on her face, inspecting her nipples and pussy.

While Jim was in the bathroom I heard the shower running then I saw him come out and get dressed as he and Denise exchanged more comments about their body parts and sex. Jim was almost fully dressed when disaster struck.

A bright light came on my bedroom camera screen and Denise was knocked away from the metal headboard and off the bed. Jim was knocked down but quickly got back up. Obviously lightning had struck the house and apparently went through the headboard into Denise's body.

Jim rushed over to Denise but she was unresponsive. A fire had started on the sheets and mattress. Jim picked Denise up and started carrying her out of the room.

I immediately called 911 in our suburb to report the lightning strike and fire. Although I didn't always have a view I saw Jim exit the front door and lay Denise on the ground about thirty feet from the front door – she was still naked.

By then it looked like the fire was moving quickly. Jim ran back upstairs and I saw him enter the boys' room. He took him quite a while in their bedroom, probably because they weren't cooperative and didn't know what the hell was going on. Eventually he exited their room carrying one of my sons in each arm, although they were screaming and squirming.

Jim did great until he got to the bottom of the stairs when Chet, though only five as large as most eight year olds, lurched. He jumped out of Jim's arm. Jim carried our other twin, Dirk, out to where Denise was, then went back in to get Chet who was crawling up the stairs, totally disoriented.

By the time that Jim grabbed Chet with both arms the fire had progressed more than I would have expected. A timber fell, hitting Jim on the shoulders and causing him to sprawl out the front door as Chet flew out of his arms onto the rain-soaked grass.

Because I had immediately called 911 and because the firehouse is only about two miles from our house I saw a fire truck and ambulance arrive shortly after Jim went sprawling, as he lay – apparently unconscious but at least dazed – at the front of the once. Once I saw the ambulance I threw all of the clothes that I could easily get my hands on into my suitcase, grabbed my laptop, and ran out the door. I yelled out my room number and the reason for my haste to the hotel front desk clerk as I flew by her and she yelled back "I'll take care of it!"

I called the fire department on my way home, fortunately just an hour's drive. I got the name of the hospital the victims were sent to. The thought that Denise might die did two things. It made me realize how much I loved her regardless of her infidelity since I couldn't imagine life with her gone; and it snapped me into my "Cool Hand Bryce" emergency mode.

Rather than being overwhelmed my mind worked as clearly as it ever had. In the hour's drive I quickly, sharply, and rationally went through in my mind what I would do in response to dozens of possible scenarios to deal with my family's health as well as my Jim-Denise problem.

When I got to the hospital thankfully our next door neighbor, Sandy Moore, was there with Chet and Dirk. Neither was seriously injured – flying onto the ground is duck soup for a five year old – but terrified. They were very happy to see me. I told them "I'm going to check on Mommy – you stay here with Mrs. Moore."

Denise was unconscious. The doctor was straight forward. "Your wife has a high probability of surviving, on the order of 90%. Unfortunately there will be damage to her nervous system and the chance that the damage will be long term is on the order of 80%. We'll know about her survival by tomorrow morning, but it will likely be five-six months or so before we know if there will be permanent nerve damage."

I held Denise's hand for a few minutes, called my sister to report what happened, asked Sandy Moore to take the kids to my sister's house after giving them big kisses and telling them that Mommy would be fine, then went and held Denise's hand another half hour. As I held her hand I both begged her not to die and firmed up my plan in my mind. In my heart I was sure that she would recover – I just felt it – and I promised her and myself that I would do whatever it took to help her.

I then went to see Jim who was on a different floor in the same hospital. He had gotten a significant, though by no means life-threatening, injury and was being kept overnight for observation. I was told that he most likely would be fine in a couple of days. He was already lucid. After I walked into his room I closed the door.

"Jim, I want to sincerely thank you for saving the lives of my family members," I said walking over to him and shaking his hand. I could tell that he was apprehensive.

"I was glad I could help, Bryce, I love your family too," he replied before realizing what he had said.

"I know that, Jim. Because you saved my family I am taking a much different approach to the next subject than I otherwise would have."