A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

"You know, Charlie, the best part of this sucky job is when I can tell a spouse that they got it all wrong and there is no evidence of infidelity."

My sigh of relief was crushed when she continued:

"Unfortunately, this isn't one of those times. This is one of the times when I hate my job".

My heart was pounding and I had to force myself to breathe.

"As far as any liaison with a coworker, I couldn't say definitively since I couldn't go prancing around a medical office building. However, twice last week, first on Monday, she left work around 1PM, presumably for lunch and drove two blocks to an apartment complex and went into a studio apartment. She was there just shy of an hour and no one entered after she did so I waited until after she left and ten minutes later a man exited the same apartment, got in his car and left."

"It didn't appear to be the guy your friend described since he was in his mid to late forties and had, mostly, grey hair. On Tuesday and Wednesday, she went to lunch with a female co-worker but on Thursday, she followed the same routine as she did on Monday. Again, she stayed in the apartment for around an hour but this time they left together and before she got into her car they shared, a more than casual, kiss. The apartment was on the ground floor and, unlike the last time, there had been a large enough opening in the drapes for me to get a few pictures while they were inside."

"All the pertinent data is in the report, including time stamped pictures of them inside of the apartment, her coming and going, their kissing and his personal information which I got from his license plate and cross checking the lease information, for the apartment."

She sighed deeply before speaking:

"Charley I am going to give some unsolicited, but good advice, don't open the envelope, just give it to your attorney, if divorce is the avenue you intend to pursue."

After a pause she continued: "But I know you won't take my advice, I didn't when it happened to me. There must be some masochistic streak in all of us that needs to exacerbate the hurt. I'm going to tell you the cliché of clichés, but it's true. Sometimes good people do bad things but it doesn't necessarily make them bad people. Do yourself a favor, make this as painless, for yourself and your family, as possible. Revenge will eat at your soul - - - - - - - - and, possibly land you in jail."

She got out from behind her desk as I rose trying to force back the tears, kissed my cheek and no longer sounding like a cop, said:

"Please don't do anything stupid, Charley, I know you're in pain. I've been there also, but life moves on and time does heal all wounds."

I went back to my office and before opening the envelope, texted Claudine:

"Having some trouble at work with an audit that has to be submitted tomorrow. I'll be late, don't wait up."

The last words stuck in my throat but the lack of them would have been glaringly obvious:

"Love, Charley."

I guess we do all have a masochistic streak because I did the exact opposite of what my P.I. recommended, I opened the envelope. The report was fairly clinical, names, dates, length of stay and a very general description of what was on the CD. Ann had just listed it as "intimate sexual contact." Hesitantly and with trembling fingers I inserted the disc into the player and after about ten minutes of watching all of the footage, I did the next thing that my P.I. had warned me about, I planned my revenge.

When I got home and entered our bedroom, Claudine was asleep. As I watched her breasts rising and falling, her auburn hair framing her face on the pillow and the seemingly peaceful innocence of her slumber, I wondered what went wrong As I stood there, memories of our courtship, marriage, children, joys and sorrows throughout the years, cascaded through my mind. For a moment I wondered if maybe I confronted her, if we went to counseling, maybe we could salvage the marriage.

Then I remembered the pictures I had seen a short hour ago of her lying on top of him with her mouth bobbing up and down on his cock as his tongue worked its magic between her legs. No amount of counseling, no number of tears would wash away the image of her kneeling on the bed, gripping the headboard and her head thrown back in ecstasy as he pounded into her from behind.

"How long, I wondered, had it been going on. How many others had she betrayed me with."

The truth was, I didn't want to know. The answers might only serve to torture my already broken heart.

When I awoke, in the morning after a night of restless sleep, Claudine was not in bed and I could smell the aroma of fresh brewed coffee, wafting up the stairs from the kitchen. That smell used to provide me with comfort and a feeling of security but now it turned my stomach.

Claudine was at the kitchen table drinking coffee and finishing a yogurt when she saw me walk in, she looked at me with concern and asked:

"Are you okay, Babe, you were tossing and turning all night?"

"Yeah, I replied, just a sour stomach. I'm alright now."

She seemed relieved but I didn't know if it was because I was feeling better or that she was happy that my restlessness hadn't been caused by my suspicions of her affair. Whatever the case, she said, cheerily:

"Don't forget we're hosting the poker night this Friday. The girls and I were thinking we'd make it a trivial pursuit night. What do you think?"

At that moment a vague plan entered my head, so I said:

"I have a better idea and I want to arrange the night, you know, change things up a bit."

"Okay, she said with a smirk - - - - - - as long as it doesn't involve us girls winding up topless."

"Don't worry, Honey, I said sarcastically, I wouldn't want my wife exposing her tits to anyone, not even our friends."

With equal sarcasm, she replied:

"Really! I think I've seen you checking out Ginny's cleavage on more than one occasion."

Forcing a laugh, I said:

"Well, there's a big difference between looking and touching."

Apparently, my comment, again went over her head, because she put her cup in the sink and kissed my cheek before leaving for work.

My plan was in its raw stages but I spent several hours that day getting it gel and a couple of hours the next day getting the necessary data and material needed to make it work. Actually, it would have been a great concept, if it didn't have such dire consequences, I probably could have marketed it.

I managed to avoid having sex with my wife on Tuesday and Wednesday night but on Thursday when we went to bed, Claudine was not taking no for an answer. She was wearing just panties and an old tee shirt, which on her looked super sexy. She immediately reached into my shorts and began fondling my flaccid penis. When, after a couple of minutes, she didn't get the expected reaction, she went for the kill. Without preamble she pulled the sheet off us and engulfed my cock in her mouth.

From the time we first started our sexual intimacy, Claudine had been exceptional at giving blowjobs. I knew she hadn't learned that skill from a book and, as far as I knew, there were no instruction manuals on the art, But that was before we met and I hadn't been a 'wall flower either., so, despite my reluctance, she was quickly achieving her goal.

Since it was Thursday I assumed that she had already had a mouth full of cock for lunch, so I thought, "fuck it" why should I be deprived of her talent. Within a few minutes my cock erupted in her mouth and since Claudine enjoys giving, almost as much as receiving, her body, also, trembled with an orgasm.

On Friday after our friends arrived we were in the living room enjoying cocktails and some pre-packaged hors d'oeuvres that I had picked up at the supermarket. The conversation was light, mostly about our kids, jobs, neighborhood events and the like.

Ginny was looking sexy, showing a little of her 'bought and paid for' cleavage when she spoke up and said:

"So, Charley, I hear you have concocted a new game for us tonight. Didn't trust us girls to be innovative?"

"Actually, I replied, I think the game is very interesting and I spent quite a bit of time arranging it. When we go into the dining room there are name tags at every place setting. There are also 5" by 8" tablets and pens for each player. Since I devised the game and know the answers I will be the moderator and time keeper. On the tablets are the numbers one through ten with each number having four sub-divisions: A,B,C &D."

"I will pass ten pictures around, one at a time and each player will have 30 seconds to write their answers down and then pass the picture to the person to his or her right. The pictures are of couples, some famous, some, not so much. Each question is worth 4 points. So, let's say the picture is of Laurel and Hardy. The player gets all four points if he knows both the first and last names of each. For example, if that person only knows both last names, he gets 2 points. If he knows Stan Laurel but can't remember that Hardy's name was Oliver, he gets three points. In other words, there is one half point for each name, first and last. If the picture were of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall but the player can only remember 'Humphrey Bogart' and not his costar he only gets one point for the whole round."

"Any questions?" Oh, and there is a connected theme to all the pictures and everyone is welcome to shout out what they think the theme is at any time. However- - - - - - -, if you're wrong you lose a point for each wrong guess but if you are right, two points will be added to your final score."

I had arranged the seating so that Claudia was at the head of the table, I was to her right, to my right was Jeff and next to him on the same side of the table was, his wife, Ginny. Across from Ginny was Kerry and to her right was her husband, Sal, and to his right, completing the circle, sat Claudine.

The games, heretofore, had started to get redundant and everyone seemed enthusiastic that this might be something uniquely challenging.

"Remember, I admonished, be sure not to let your neighbor see the picture since that will give them the advantage of additional time. I then pushed the first picture, face down, to Jeff and hit my stop watch. I started with, what I thought was the easiest one, Lucille Ball and Dezi Arnaz. I saw Jeff smile as he wrote his answers down within ten seconds. After I called time he slid the picture, face down to Kerry, who seemed less confident than her husband. She wrote some things down and at the five second warning, she seemed a bit frustrated when she turned the picture over and slid across to Kerry.

When the picture finally reached Claudine, she seemed pleased and quickly wrote her answers down. The next picture was of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver. Everyone one seemed confident in their answers. The third pic was of Al Gore and Tipper Gore and it took the players a bit longer, since it was probably a little more difficult to remember Mrs. Gore's first name. Following that was a picture of Jerry Lewis and Patti Lewis. They had been married for thirty-eight years but even I would have had no clue as to her name if I had not researched it on the internet.

After that was Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon, which seemed to please everyone. The next was a hard one: Reba McEntire and Narvel Blackstock. There was a lot of good natured complaints like: "Oh come on, not fair, who the hell would know this?"

Brad Pitt and Jenifer Aniston brought smiles to everyone's faces. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes brought similar reactions. At that point, Jeff, who seemed to be the most confident, declared"

"I want to try the theme - - - - - - Tabloid couples!"

"Sorry, Jeff", I said, doing my best imitation of the fog horn used on the old game shows.

The following pictures were of Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe and Mickey Hargitay and Jane Mansfield.

Everyone sat back and there were multiple comments about how well I had done at creating the game.

"We're not quite done." I proclaimed.

"I have a bonus picture and for each right answer there will be a three-point bonus, but you only have five seconds."

Everyone seemed excited at bumping up their score but I took my time before sliding the picture to Jeff, who had a confident smile on his face. When he turned it over, his smile disappeared and he didn't reach for his pen. He just sat there looking at the picture with a blank expression.

Sal laughed and said, "wow this must be a hard one". I hit the stop watch and said, in a commanding voice:

"Time's up Jeff, pass the picture to Ginny."

Without turning it face down he slid the picture to Ginny, who was looking at him with a triumphant smile at his inability to identify the people in the pic. When she finally looked down and saw the compilation of four pictures on the 8"X 10" sheet, she gasped, dropped the picture and put her hand over her mouth.

One frame showed Claudine on her hands and knees in a bed getting fucked from behind; another was of her in a sixty-nine position with an obvious erection in her mouth; one was an image of Claudine with her legs spread and a man's head buried between her legs and the final showed her on her knees as she's kneeling on the floor at the bottom of the bed sucking a semi flaccid cock. The man' recognizable face was clearly visible in all but one photo, the one where he was buried between my wife's legs.

"Times up Ginny, give Kerry a chance." I said cheerily

She looked at me sadly but made no move to pass the picture.

Kerry laughed and said: "Come on give the rest of a chance" as she reached across and slid the picture toward her.

Kerry looked at it blankly and seemingly without emotion but eventually she reached to the middle of the table and picking up the glass bowl of onion dip, screamed, "you fucking bastard" and slammed the bowl into Sal's face.

Sal was knocked off his chair and was attempting to wipe off the onion dip and blood, that had spurted from his nose, out of his eyes and off his face. Jeff and Ginny sat stoically watching the scene unfold, as Claudine stood, looking aghast. Sal was attempting to stand and yelled:

"What the fuck- - - - - - - - -, are you crazy?"

Kerry snatched the pictures from the table, which Claudine had been staring at, in shocked horror, and shoving it in her husband's face, growled:

"This is 'what the fuck', you slimy piece of shit."

With that she kicked him square in his balls. As Sal curled up in the fetal position, Kerry walked around the table to Claudine, who had her arms protectively wrapped around her and was softly sobbing and slapped her so hard across the face that my wife staggered back into the china hutch. Kerry turned and looking contemptuously down at her groaning husband, hissed:

"Don't even think about coming home, you cheating bastard, not tonight, not ever." Then she walked out of the front door. Aside from Claudine's raspy sobs, the room remained in stunned silence, until I muttered:

"By the way, tonight's theme was ---- Divorced couples."