Believing is Seeing

We talked about kids from time to time, but Jenny never seemed to be in favor of it. It's not that she didn't want kids, she said, but she wanted to make sure that the time was right. I would occasionally prod her on the subject, but never hard enough to get her mad. It seemed like there was something I didn't know about all of this, but I don't think she was ready to explain it to me. Perhaps in time.

We both did pretty well at work, rising up through the ranks and getting raises. Jenny ended up being a program manager, which meant some travel. I didn't like it much, and told her so.

"Look, honey," she said, "it comes with the territory. I'm making a lot more money and we can finally afford to do things."

"Yeah," I said, "but your schedule is so packed we never seem to have time. What's the point of making money if you can't take time to enjoy it?"

She smiled at me and said, "You're right. Maybe we should spend more time having fun." "In fact," she said with a wicked grin, "I can think of something we can do right now."

I rolled my eyes. "What, didn't you get enough last night?" I said in mock reluctance.

"Not by half, " she said, and we were off to the races, trying to see who could undress faster.

******************

Jenny and I were sitting on the couch, both of us reading stories. It was something we could do together and still be independent. It was nice having her by my side, even though we weren't really doing anything together. As I was reading, I suddenly snapped my fingers and said, "Shoot, I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Jenny asked.

I smiled. "I forgot to tell you that I love you."

Jenny smiled back. "I love you, too."

"You know," I said, "I can't imagine a life without you. You seem to know what I need and we fit together perfectly. It's almost as if you could read my mind." I winced. "That's kind of scary, you know."

Jenny laughed. "Okay, I'll try to be more discreet about the mind reading."

I'm not sure I ever told Jenny how intensely I loved her. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her. I gave her my heart and soul. I was her slave. And I hoped that she was mine.

The bad part about loving someone that much is it makes you so vulnerable, so fragile. She can take me to the heights of ecstasy and reduce me to the pit of despair, all with a simple look. It's unnerving to be that exposed, but the alternative - sacrificing that love - is worse.

******************

We eventually saved up enough to money to make a down payment on a house. We found a nice neighborhood with cute little houses, a bedroom community close to work. The house was in good condition, needing only our own personal decorating to make it ours. It was when we were moving a couch in that Rick stopped by.

We saw a man walking toward us from the corner of the block. He was fairly tall and muscular. Probably worked out at the gym, I guessed. He had a smile on his face as he approached us. "Hi," he said, "I'm Rick, your neighbor right around the corner. Need a hand with that?"

I wiped away some perspiration and said, "Sure! I have to admit moving all this crap has taken its toll. I'm Sam and this is Jenny." Rick shook our hands and smiled broadly at Jenny.

Rick and I moved the couch into the living room and slid it against the wall. He helped us move several boxes, with Jenny directing the traffic. Eventually, I got tired and needed to rest. I offered Rick a beer, which he accepted, and we sat down on the couch.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked.

"About ten years now," Rick said. "It's a nice neighborhood, with not too many crazy people." He smiled. "I was sorry to see the Watsons go, but you and Jenny will fit in quite nicely. He looked over at Jenny, who was lining up more things to move inside. "You're a lucky man," he said, smiling at what he saw.

"And she's lucky, too, right?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Rick smiled, "she's lucky, too."

Rick and I sat on the couch, nursing our beer and chatting about various things, until Jenny came in and cracked the whip. I thanked Rick for his help and said I hoped we could get together soon, once we're all moved in. He asked if there was anything he could help with, but I told him the heavy stuff was already done and we could handle the rest.

"Okay, then," Rick said. "If you need anything, I'm just around the block. I've got a few tools you can borrow, if you need, and I'm marginally capable of doing grunt work, should the occasion arise. See you later." We waved to each other as he left.

Jenny and I moved the rest of the house in, then collapsed. Sleep came easily that night, but we woke up to the excitement of having our own house.

Jenny was more into decoration than I, so I let her handle most of it. My participation was limited to the occasional "yes, dear," and that seemed enough for her. I must say, she did a great job. She somehow managed to make the house into a home, looking nice but not so elegant that it was stuffy. It was a pleasant place to be.

We met a few more neighbors after a while, finding out about Megan across the street, a single woman (husband cheated; she threw him out), Nancy down the block (a widow), Phil and Irma across the way (the local gossips), and Ralph (lives with his mother, still single and not looking). We also found out more about Rick. It seems he's single and not really looking for a commitment, but he manages to have fun. Rick was a salesman and had a smooth tongue. Women seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Jenny didn't blame them; she told me he's an attractive man. I didn't see it myself, but I'm not much into men, so I'm a poor judge. Several times during the summer, Rick invited us to a pool party. He had several neighbors over, in addition to his own friends, and grilled up some hot dogs and hamburgers. After stuffing ourselves, he and I would grab a beer, sit on some lounge chairs, and watch the pretty women parade around in their bikinis. It was a lovely view.

"I gotta tell you, Sam" Rick said once, "I think you have the best of the bunch."

"What about Rosalie?" I asked. "She's got a nice figure."

He smiled at that. "Sure enough, she does, but I like her tongue the best." He winked at me.

"And Anne?" I asked, motioning to a woman with a great ass.

"Oh," Rick said, "that one is a pistol, a real pistol. I swear she could wear out an army. Might already have done so, actually. She's a purple stripe, she is."

"A purple stripe? What do you mean?" I asked.

Rick smiled. "Sometimes I have my women put highlights in their hair. I tell them I like the color, but it's really a rating system. A green stripe means a good pussy, a blue stripe means a great cocksucker, and a purple stripe means great everything." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Anne is definitely a purple stripe."

"So Leslie over there sucks cock well?" I asked, a smirk on my face.

"You bet she does," Rick smiled. "One of the best I've ever had. All the way. That woman could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. And she swallows. She's awesome."

I shook my head. "You know, I can't believe how many women you know. Ever think of settling down?"

Rick shook his head. "Now, why would I want to do that?"

"Don't you think it would be nice to have someone steady?" I asked.

"Not for me," Rick said. "I need variety. If I had to stick to just one woman, I'd think I'd go crazy." He added quickly, "Not that that's a bad thing for you, I mean; it's just not right for me."

I smiled. "None taken. I have to admit, you sure do have a fine group of women."

He laughed. "Yeah," he said, "but it's never enough."

Later that evening, Jenny and I talked about the pool party. "Rick sure knows how to rope them in, doesn't he?" she said.

I laughed. "Yeah, he's got a harem going, that's for sure, but he never seems content. I think he's like Rockefeller."

"What do you mean?" Jenny asked.

"Someone once asked John D. Rockefeller, one of the richest people in the world, how much money was enough, and Rockefeller answered 'Just a little bit more.' I think Rick is that way with women." I shrugged.

Jenny shook her head. "They're going to kill him one of these days."

I laughed. "Yeah, but what a way to go. Speaking of which..."

Jenny smiled. "I'm way ahead of you, sport." I had to run to catch up to her in the bedroom.

******************

After summer came Halloween. Jenny and I dressed up to greet the little kids in the neighborhood who were busy extorting candy from the homeowners. I would put makeup on my face to make me look like a skeleton and Jenny would dress up like Frankenstein's bride. She would put black streaks in her blonde hair and twirl everything up into a beehive hairdo. A little makeup on her face and she was ready to make the kids pay for their extortion. The first time we did it, some of the kids got a little scared, but after a couple of years they came to expect and enjoy it. I would watch the little kids trundle off with their ill-gotten goods and ask Jenny if she wished we had a group to take around the neighborhood ourselves.

"Who would hand out the candy?" she asked.

"We could trade off," I said.

"No," she said, "that would never do. I want you right where I can keep an eye on you." Then she pinched me on the butt.

"Ouch," I said, "that's spousal abuse. Besides, you already have my heart. What else is there to keep an eye on?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Your cock, for one," she said.

******************

Work got more stressful for Jenny. As program manager, she had responsibility for what everyone else was doing. When things went wrong, and they always did, she was the one who took the heat. When things went right, on the rare occasion they did, she made sure that her people got all the credit. "I just approve time cards," she would say. "They're the ones doing the work." Her people loved her for it. She always protected them and they worked hard for her.

But it started getting to be too much. She started traveling, mostly to convince customers the program was on schedule or, if it wasn't, how she would bring it back on schedule. I missed having her around, but I understood it was her job. I just didn't like it.

"Do you really have to be gone so much?" I asked. "Couldn't you send a delegate or something?"

"I do," she replied, "but I have to go, too. I'm where the buck stops."

"Okay, but I have to tell you I really hate this crap," I said.

"I'm not fond of it myself, but it's part of the job," she said, as she gave me a kiss.

But things continued to get worse. She would come home late, so we'd eat late. Sometimes she would call to let me know I should have dinner without her. I hated that. But it was part of the job. I put up with it the best I could.

What bothered me the most was how her libido dropped. We used to have sex almost every day. With no kids around to interrupt us, we could do what we wanted, when we wanted. And we wanted a lot. Or we did, at least. But Jenny would be tired when she got home, and on the weekends she wasn't working, she rested most of the time. She just lost her interest.

"What's wrong, honey?" I asked. "We don't seem to have as much fun as we used to. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, babe," she said, "it's just been really busy at work. There's a lot of tension right now, because we're competing for a program we absolutely must win. It's a lot of meetings. I guess maybe I'm getting burnt out. But things will turn around. You'll see."

"This has been going on for almost a year," I said. "When's it going to turn around?" Jenny just shrugged.

******************

Just when things eased up a bit at work, Jenny started going to her mother's during the weekend. She said she had to help her mother with some things. She was never specific, and I never pushed. I knew she didn't really want to talk about it. I asked her once how things were going but she just said everything was coming along. I left it alone.

One week, in July, Jenny said she had to make another trip. The work trips had eased off a bit but were still more often than I wanted. Mostly they were only a couple days long, but she said this one would be longer, because it was a major design review. She was going to her mother's that weekend and said she had to leave for her trip on Sunday, so she wouldn't be home first. I expressed my discontent but told her I understood. It turns out I really didn't understand.

Jenny left for her mother's Friday night, after she got back from work. I watched as she packed for yet another trip and bit my tongue. There was no point in complaining about it; this is the way it was and this is the way it would be for quite some time. We didn't even have time for a quick fuck before she was off. I waved goodbye and sadly watched her drive away.

It was lonely without her, but I had gotten used to it. She had been doing heavy traveling for about a year now, so I had a chance to adjust. I would do a lot of reading, watch some movies she wouldn't want to see, and eat junk food. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible. Gettable through, I guess.

Sunday afternoon, I decided to go visit Rick. I hadn't seen him in a while and figured this would be a good time to chew the fat, dip in his pool, and drink his beer. I walked around the corner and knocked on his door. I tried twice, but he didn't answer. I figured maybe he was in the backyard, so I went around to the side gate. As I got closer to the gate, I heard some splashing and some other noise. I didn't quite know what it was until I was right at the gate. Then I heard the groans pretty clearly.

Rick's gate was just a simple wooden gate with slats that give some measure of privacy. Over the years, the wood has shrunk so there are gaps in the slats. If you get real close, you can look through the slats and see pretty much everything. So that's what I did.

And I saw everything. Rick was on the side of the pool, dangling his legs in the water. In front of him was some blonde with a purple stripe in her hair, her face buried in his lap. I could see that Rick didn't have his bathing suit on. Neither did she. Her ass was spectacular and it was bobbing up and down along with her head. She was giving Rick an incredible blow job, if his groans were any indication. I couldn't see exactly what her technique was, but Rick clearly wasn't complaining.

I watched for what seemed like a long time. It was as hot as anything I had ever seen. I had watched porn before, but this was real and right in front of me. Damn, that girl looked nice, what I could see of her. She was pointed away from me, so all I could see was her hair, her back, and a truly wonderful ass. I wished I could see her tits. Just as I was thinking that, she pulled away from Rick, turned around, and dropped her pussy right on top of his cock. I could see that her tits were extraordinary. And I could see her face.

Fuck. God fucking damn it.

It was Jenny.

Rick was fucking Jenny pretty hard by now, slamming into her pussy for all he was worth and she was clearly enjoying it. She'd grab one of her bouncing tits and rub her nipple while he slammed into her. He had a good hold of her hips and was ramming that big cock of his home, time and time again. I pulled away from the gate in shock, having seen all I cared to. In fact, more than I cared to. When I went back to the street, I saw Jenny's car, something I had missed coming over. God fucking damn it! That bitch!

My mind went blank for a while. I must have walked or run home, but I had no recollection of it. I just found myself on the couch in the living room. I was so angry and scared and scarred and humiliated that I couldn't think straight. How could she do this to me? What the fuck did I do wrong? Was I not enough somehow? Did she get bored? How long has this been going on? All those trips she was taking, were they trips for work or trips for fun, behind her cuckold's back?

And what do I do now?

I sat on the recliner a long time, breathing quickly, thinking about what I had just seen and trying to figure out what it all meant. The big question was "why?" and I had no answer. After I calmed down enough so I could talk, I decided to dig for some answers. I called Marge.

"Hi, Marge," I said, gritting my teeth. "This is Sam."

"Oh, hi, Sam!" Marge said. "What a delight to hear from you? How have you been?"

"I'm okay," I said. "Just waiting for Jenny to come home from her latest trip."

"Oh," Marge said, "did she go on another trip?"

What the fuck? Marge didn't know? "She didn't tell you, Marge?" I asked.

"No," Marge laughed. "I'm always the last to know." No, you're not, I thought: I am.

"When was the last time you saw her?" I asked. I was afraid of the answer, but somehow I knew what it was.

"Oh, let me see, it must be a couple of months now," Marge said. "She's okay, isn't she? Nothing is wrong, is it?"

"Sure, she's fine," I said. She's fine until I see her again, that fucking bitch. "Everything's fine. Say, Marge, I'm sorry, but I have to go. Someone's at the door."

"Okay," she said. "Thanks for calling. Was there something I could help you with?" She sounded confused.

"No," I said, "nothing that can't wait. I'll call again soon. Bye."

I was furious. That lying bitch! She's been fucking Rick, and who knows who else, for at least a couple of months. All those trips to help her mom were just trips to help herself to some local cock. God damn it! God fucking damn it!

That evening seemed to last forever. I got rid of the better part of a bottle of scotch, paying for it the next morning. But that next morning, even though my head was splitting, I was thinking about the next step. I wanted to hurt her at least as much as she hurt me, that little shit. Maybe I could accidentally let her catch me fucking Megan. Yeah, that would fix her wagon. But maybe not. Megan was a nice woman and I really shouldn't drag her into this. Maybe I could get real nasty with the divorce. Or maybe not. All I could take from her was money, and I doubt I could get much of that. No, what I had to do was crush her soul, make her feel inferior, make her feel useless, just like she did to me.

I stewed about this for a week. I started off angry and ended up being depressed. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out why. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what I did or didn't do. I couldn't figure out what went wrong. But it sure went wrong. And I slowly fell deeper and deeper into a horrible depression. People at work noticed it, but I passed it off as some annoyance at home and didn't elaborate. Why would I want to tell someone I was a cuckold, that my wife was fucking someone better than I was?

Jenny told me before she left that she would be home Friday afternoon, so I took Friday off. I still didn't know what I was going to do, but it wouldn't be pleasant. I waited. And while I waited, the depression lifted and was replaced by anger, pure, unadulterated anger.

Sure enough, at 2:30 p.m., Jenny showed up at the house. I had been watching the street, waiting for her car to arrive. I saw her pull up to the garage and get out of her car. She took the suitcase she had out of the trunk and started to wheel it toward the front door. I didn't let her get that far.

I opened the door and glared at her. "Where the fuck have you been, you lying cunt?" I screamed at her. She stopped in her tracks and stared at me. "That's right, bitch, I know all about it! I know about you fucking Rick. I know about the visits to your mother that didn't actually happen. I know about the blow jobs by the pool. Get the fuck out of here! My lawyer will contact you!" I slammed the door as hard as I could. I'm surprised I didn't break something. I didn't understand how Jenny could do this to me. How could she? My God, how could she?