Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #09

"They were such a nice couple," she said giving him a look as if she was jealous of the relationship that Jack and Sheila had but that she didn't have with Jay. "I know that if I had died instead of Sheila, she'd be over here helping you through your grief," said Ruth giving her husband a submissive smile.

Only, an empty shell and nothing more than meaningless words, there was nothing neighborly nor Christian about his wife. A drunk and a whore who was willing to use men with sex to get what she wanted and needed at the time, all she cared about were her cigarettes and booze. With her doing nothing for no one for free, especially her own husband, there was always a catch to her kindness and generosity.

Suddenly, Jay imagined the opposite scenario. Had Ruth died instead of Sheila, he imagined her coming over to his house to do more than just the laundry and the cooking. A good looking woman who didn't look her 62-year-old age, he imagined Sheila fucking and sucking him in the way that Ruth never fucked and sucked him. Here today and gone tomorrow, he couldn't believe when she was diagnosed with cancer and died within a few months.

"You're a good woman, Ruth," said Jay feeling compelled to say something appropriate but not believing that his wife was a good woman, not for a second.

Enjoying the moment and reverting back to when he was a child, he made faces at her from behind his raised newspaper. As if she wasn't even there, he returned to reading his newspaper. As if the wall between them was as thick as the Wall of China, was as high as the Berlin Wall, or armed and fortified as the Israeli Palestinian Wall, she gave her husband a smug smile behind the paper thin wall of newsprint that separated them. Jay didn't have to see her look to feel her look.

"Then, after going there for a while, instead of having me do his laundry and cook him a meal, he just wanted to talk while having a drink," she said pausing as if waiting for his reaction. "Obviously he was lonely and just looking for some female companionship," she said with innocence to veil her real agenda.

Aha! A drink? Bingo, thought Jay. Forget about her comforting Jack and helping him with laundry and cooking in his hour of need, obviously the only reason why she went next door was for the free booze.

"That's nice that you kept him company," said Jay while gritting his teeth behind his newspaper. "That was the neighborly thing to do."

With what she said next adding more fuel to the fire, she gave him a stare that could ignite his newspaper.

"With you working long hours, gone traveling all the time, with Kim away at college, and with me having nothing else to do in this big, empty house, I started going over to Jack's house more frequently," she said. She paused to stare over at his newspaper. "I started visiting him nearly every day. I was lonely," she said wiping away a non-existent, crocodile tear. "And dear Jack was just a friend. Actually, he comforted me as much as I comforted him."

She paused to stare at his newspaper again and seemingly while waiting for his reaction to her going to her neighbor's house more frequently.

'Fucking bitch, he thought. Jay imagined her going over there to tease his poor, old neighbor. With her knowing how enamored with her breasts that Jack was, he imagine his wife leaning over Jack while wearing a low cut, halfway unbuttoned top and flashing him her cleavage and bra.

"That's nice dear," said Jay seething.

He imagined his wife sitting across from Jack on the couch with her knees spread as wide open as were her morals and flashing his friend her panties, if she was even wearing any. 'She's just trying to get a reaction from him,' he thought to himself while making a gagging face as if he was ready to vomit.

"That's really nice dear," said Jay.

He wished he could shoot her in the face through his newspaper. Only, he didn't have a gun. Besides, she wasn't worth spending the rest of his life in jail while she smoked and drank away his life savings.

Falling silent for a moment while obviously collecting her thoughts, she stared at the front side of his newspaper in the way that he stared at the reverse side. Only, he was reading the newspaper or trying to read the paper and she wasn't. If she was reading anything or anyone, she was reading him while playing him and while trying to rile him.

"He enjoyed sitting next to me on the couch while we talked and/or watched TV. You know him. Expressive with his hands, he was always touching me, touching my arm, holding my hand, or squeezing my leg," she said.

She paused again while obviously waiting for Jay's reaction to Jack touching her arm, her hand, and squeezing her leg. When he showed no sign of caring or of even listening to her, she continued.

'Here it comes,' he thought to himself while waiting for her to tell him what really happened.

"That's nice dear," said Jay.

Controlling his anger, he knew she was goading him to get angry. Not wanting to play her game, he refused to react to what she said. Yet, even though he acted disinterested, obviously she knew he'd react to what she said next. As if this was the Ides of March, March 15, 44, and she was Marcus Junius Brutus sticking his knife in Julius Caesar, she nearly fatally stabbed her husband with her tongue and with her words.

"Then, one day, out of the clear blue, he surprised the Hell out of me. Actually, he shocked the shit out of me," she said with a laugh while feigning her embarrassment and modesty.

'What did he do, flash you his cock,' thought Jay while laughing to himself.

Only, he knew that Jack wouldn't disrespect his wife in such an inappropriate way. Nonetheless, feeling the need to ask her the question, at the risk of being vulgar, he asked Ruth his question anyway. Only, angry with her, this was her game that he knew she wanted to play. Now sucked it to being an unwilling contestant in her game, once he started asking her questions and once he started being rudely vulgar and disrespectful of her, he couldn't stop.

"So, tell me. What did he do to surprise the Hell out of you and shock the shit out of you? Did he flash you his cock? Did he wag his stiff prick in your face and expect you to suck him in the way that I always imagine you sucking me but you never do?"

Jay imagined Jack's deceased wife, Sheila sucking him. Only, they never went further than touchy feely and kissing when they were alone in the deep, dark end of the pool. With Jack sleeping in his chair and Ruth sitting beside him drunk on the patio, he probably could have had sex with Sheila in the backyard and they never would have known.

"Oh, my God, Jay," said Ruth laughing. "Jack would never flash me his cock and/or wag his stiff prick in my face."

She paused to give her husband a vindictive smile while he gave her a look of confusion.

"Then what did he do to shock you?"

Jay looked at her with curiosity. He didn't think Jack had it in him to shock anyone. The man was 65-years-old and not in the best health.

"He kissed me," she said with spite.

'He kissed her? Jack kissed her? His friend and neighbor kissed her. God damn it. Rubbing his face in her sordid sexual affairs, now he'll never be able to look Jack in the eye again. Well, she did it. Well played,' he thought silently. 'She upset me, the frigging bitch.'

Jay looked over his newspaper to stare at his wife with jealousy while being sucked into playing her game.

"Kissed you? He kissed you? Jack kissed you? Jack? He kissed you where? Where did he kiss you?"

Acting as if she didn't understand the question even though she obvious did understand his question, Ruth looked at him with confusion before giving him a catty smile.

"He kissed me on the couch when I was sitting next to him," she said giving him another catty smile.

Jay looked at her as if she was stupid when he knew she wasn't. Obviously, she was playing him.

"No, that's not what I meant," he said. "Where did he kiss you? On the hand? On the cheek? On the forehead?" Already knowing her answer, he gulped. "On the mouth?"

Giving her his full attention now, Jay put down his newspaper to stare at his wife.

"Yes," she said.

Waiting for her to say more about what happened with Jack that day, when he knew that was exactly what she wanted to do, he looked at her puzzled.

"Yes what?"

Now that she had his complete attention, she gave him a victorious smile.

"On the mouth. Jack kissed me on the mouth," she said. "He did," she said pausing to stare at him and no doubt his reaction. Sorry," she said when obviously she wasn't sorry for anything at all.

She wasn't sorry that Jack kissed her and she especially wasn't sorry for telling him that Jack kissed her on the mouth. Batting her long eyelashes and looking at him with her big, brown eyes as if she was a virgin instead of the whore that she truly was, she returned his stare with an innocent smile. Trying to remain calm, Jay didn't want to show Ruth that she was getting to him and that she had upset him.

"What kind of kiss was it? Was it a peck on the lips that a father would give his daughter, or a kiss that a man would give a female friend, or a kiss that a man would give his lover?"

She wrinkled her brow before breaking out a smile.

"No father would kiss his daughter in the way he kissed me. Unless they were dating, no man would give a female friend the kiss that Jack gave me. I don't think he'd kiss a friend in the way he kissed me," she said with an annoying, loud laugh. "It was a kiss that a man would give his lover."

Jay folded his newspaper and put it aside to lean forward in his chair while staring at his wife. Already knowing the answer to his question, he asked it anyway.

"What do you mean?"

She smiled at his obvious growing anger.

"He parted my lips with his tongue and French kissed me," she said. "It wasn't a long kiss as much as it was a passionate kiss."

Jay's eyes widened with his eyebrows moving higher and nearly touching his hairline.

"French kissed you? Jack French kissed you? Are you kidding me? That dirty, old man French kissed you, my wife. How dare he?" Ordinarily not believing her if she was anyone else, but he believed her. He stared at Ruth as if she was insane. "And you allowed Jack to passionately French kiss you?"

Ruth nodded her head to all of her husband's questions.

"Yes," she said as if he was her father instead of her husband.

He looked at her as if she was totally nuts. Jay inhaled before blowing out a big, angry breath of air.

"And what did you do when he stuck his tongue in your mouth?"

Not acting shy or embarrassed, she didn't even blush when answering his question.

"What did I do?" She shrugged. "What could I do? Duh? I returned his French kiss, of course," she said as if she just shook his hand instead of French kissing him. "Jesus Jay. It was just a kiss, albeit a French kiss."

Jay's mouth fell open in shock. A man old enough to be her father, twenty years her senior, kissed his wife. Ruth, young enough to be his daughter, twenty years his junior, kissed Jack, his ex-friend and their next door neighbor. He thought he was getting away with murder when he was kissing and feeling up Jack's wife, Sheila, a few years back at the pool party they had. He thought he was getting away with murder when he lifted her bikini top to expose her breast and she stuck her hand down his bathing suit to fondle his cock. Now, payback is a bitch. Obviously to Jay, what's fair for the gander is not fair for the goose.

'What the fuck! What the Hell?'

"I don't believe this. I don't believe you," said Jay. "Why the Hell would you return his French kiss when you should have slapped his face and left his house? Why in the Hell would you French kiss him? He's a short, fat, bald, and homely man. Even more than that, he's an old man. He's at least twenty years older than you."

Ruth rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for God's sakes Jay, it was just a kiss and obviously the man was in mourning. He looked so sad and so lost," she said. "I felt bad for him. He looked so pathetic. Besides, no big deal, what's a kiss between friends?"

Unable to control his anger when sitting, Jay stood and pocketed his hands while pacing the floor in front of her.

"Obviously it wasn't just a kiss between friends but a French kiss, a passionate kiss between a widowed man and my wife," he said with obvious anger. He gave her a hard look. "And after he kissed you, French kissed you, what happened then?"

Now with her tongue as sharp as her words, ready to slice him, she played Mickey the Dunce. She looked up at her husband with innocence while he looked at her with anger.

"Whatever do you mean?"

When she suddenly acted like Tara from Gone with the Wind, he removed his hands from his pockets and put them by his side as if in readiness to strangle her.

"How many times did he kiss you?" He paused and when she didn't immediately answer his question, he was ready to ask another question.

"How many times did he kiss me? Jesus, Jay, I don't know," she said with a shrug of indifference while feigning her ignorance.

This time, unable to harness his impatience while waiting for her to respond to his questions with non-answers, he rattled off several questions in quick succession.

"Did he touch you sexually? Did you let him touch you sexually? Tell me and be honest, did he feel your tits through your blouse and finger your nipples through your bra while kissing you? Did he grab your ass through your short skirt and panties? Did he stick his hand between your legs and cup your pussy through your panties? Did you allow him to touch you and feel you while kissing you? For Christ sakes, Ruth, tell me. Did you make out with the man?"

With Jay firing questions at her as if his mouth was a machine gun nuzzle, she shook her head in obvious frustration and gave him the same look when he was being impossible.

"Geez Jay. For God's sakes. Chill. Relax," she said letting out a big sigh of self-satisfaction obviously now that he was immersed in her game. Pausing in her answer, she studied her husband while seemingly collecting her thoughts. "It's no big secret. You know how enamored with my breasts Jack is, especially when he sees me in my bikini or whenever I'm wearing a low cut top. Undressing me with his eyes, for years and at every barbeque and pool party we've hosted, he does nothing but stare, leer, and ogle me," she said throwing up her hands and shrugging.

Seemingly already knowing what she was going to say, he looked at her with insight while getting angrier.

"So, what are you saying?"

She shrugged her indifference at his anger while playing the innocent virgin. Only, she was no innocent virgin. His wife was a whore.

"I didn't think there was anything wrong with me comforting Jack by allowing him to make out with me. I didn't think there was anything wrong with me comforting him by allowing him to feel my breasts through my blouse and finger my nipples through my bra."

She looked at him as if he was the crazy one.

"You didn't think there was anything wrong with Jack feeling you through your clothes while French kissing you? Did you forget that you were married to me, Ruth? Did you forget that Jack is my friend and our neighbor? If Jack talks, did you not consider that everyone in the neighborhood will think of you as the drunken whore that you are?"

He looked at her with anger and she returned his look with arrogant self-righteousness.

"Fuck you, Jay! How dare you call me a drunken whore?" With both of them falling silent, she looked at him while softening in her obvious willingness to continue playing her vindictive game. "What's the big deal? It's just tits. It's just my tits," she said removing her pullover top and removing her bra. "So the fuck what if he felt my tits and fingered my nipples."

She sat there topless while Jay stared at her naked breasts. His leering stare obviously made her feel uncomfortable and she put her top back on but not her bra.

"Fucking whore," he said under his breath.

She rolled her eyes and blew out a sigh of frustration.

"Call me what you want. You may think me a whore but I was just comforting a friend," she said letting out a feigned sad sigh. "Finally, while kissing me, fondling my breasts, and fingering my nipples, he finally forget his sadness. He seemed to be really enjoying himself," she said with a dirty laugh.

Even though he knew she was playing him and even though he knew she was trying to get him to react, Jay threw his hands up in the air and stared at her as if she was totally out of her mind.

"Enjoying himself? I bet he enjoyed himself feeling you up through your clothes," he said giving her a long, hard stare. "And tell me this, then. What were you doing while he was feeling your breasts through your blouse and fingering your nipples through your bra? While you were kissing him, French kissing him, and making out with him, and while he was feeling your tits through your blouse and fingering your nipples through your bra, did you feel his cock through his pants?"

Angering Jay even more, she gave her husband another indifferent shrug as if feeling Jack's cock through his pants was no big deal.

"Oh, my God, Jay. You're so juvenile. And so what if I did feel his prick through his pants? I can only imagine what you do while off on all your business trips," she said returning his hard stare. "With him feeling my tits through my blouse and fingering my nipples through my bra, I didn't see anything wrong with returning the sexual favor in feeling his erection through his pants," she said.

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Nothing wrong with you returning the sexual favor? You're my wife. You're not Jack's wife. You're married to me," said Jay.

Obviously knowing she was his wife and not Jack's wife and obviously knowing she was getting to him, playing him even more, Ruth rolled her eyes and sighed as if she was just as annoyed with him as he was with her.

"If you lost your wife, I'm sure you'd want someone there to comfort you," she said giving him a self-effacing yet self-satisfied smile. "I wouldn't be angry, if after I'm dead and buried, you made out with a woman and felt her breasts through her blouse and fingered her nipples through her bra while she felt your cock through your pants. If that made you forget your sadness and your grief, so what? What's the big deal? It's only some innocent kissing, petting, and comforting bonding."

Jay kicked at the magazine rack. For sure, if Ruth died, he wouldn't be sad, he'd be happy. If Ruth died, he wouldn't be grieving, he'd be rejoicing.

"So what? What's the big deal? You're not dead," said Jay now wishing she was. "And you're still my wife and now wishing she wasn't. God damn it. How dare you make out with a man, a much older man, a man old enough to be your father, and allow him to feel your breasts through your clothes while you feel his cock through his pants? What the Hell is wrong with you?"

Ruth rolled her eyes again.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, Jay," she said. "It was just a little petting, something we all did in Junior High School. I don't even know why you're so angry. You should be happy that I thought enough of your friend to comfort him and to make him feel happy instead of sad."

He looked at her with his face red and his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Jesus Ruth! I can't believe you allowed him to feel your tits through your blouse and finger your nipples through your bra while you felt his cock through his pants and French kissed him," he said talking to her as if scolding her. "Comforting someone is one thing but making out with someone while allowing him to feel you through your clothes are two different things Ruth or do you not understand the difference?"