Helter Skelter

"I guess we have an agreement, Gwen. You should make no mistake, however. If I even suspect you're fucking around on me, I'll use the pictures I have to win a very favorable settlement in a divorce. I sure as hell won't give you three strikes!" I pronounced.

"That part is easy, Jim. You'll not have any new reasons to toss me to the curb. I'm sure of that," Gwen responded. "Can I get rid of those terrible pictures you have all over the house? The one on the refrigerator makes me want to vomit every time I see it. I'm so afraid the kids, or my family, will stop in and see them. I'd appreciate removing all the material about cuckolds and slut wives, too."

"I'll gather it all up this evening and put it all away, for now. It seems ironic that you were so willing to make me a cuckold and be a slut wife, but you want to keep it from everyone. Isn't that a clue as to how you should have thought before you fucked the guy?" I reasoned. "If you're ashamed of it, why do it, Gwen?"

Gwen gave no response as she sobbed quietly. I went and picked up all my literature and photos and placed them in my desk in the den and locked the drawer.

I had no intention of sleeping with other women. It just didn't seem like a reasonable response to Gwen's actions. I did plan on making Gwen wonder and worry and try to keep tabs on me. I knew from Gwen's infidelity, not trusting your spouse eats you up. I had decided that I wasn't going to play the game. If she wanted to cheat again, I'd find out sooner or later. To spend one's resources, sanity, and time trying to keep a spouse faithful is a real waste of energy. If it comes to that, you are better off divorcing them. Would Gwen reach that decision, too?

Things settled down into a routine for the next few weeks. Gwen was really trying to be a positive, caring wife. The house was kept perfect and the meals were delicious. We even began discussing our kids and work again. After dinner one evening, she broached a subject she must have been thinking about for sometime.

"Jim, when are you going to come back to our bedroom to sleep? It's been over a month since that incident. I'd really feel better if we slept together as husband and wife," admitted Gwen.

"Gwen, you can join me if you like, but I'll never again sleep in that bed, or that room. My reasons should be obvious to you," I added.

"I understand, Jim. I thought you'd feel that way. I'll move into the guest room with you. I really want you to make love to me again, Sweetheart," smiled Gwen.

"I don't have any condoms, Gwen, so don't get your hopes up," I replied.

"We're married, Jim! You don't need to use a condom. You know that," replied Gwen with surprise.

"Sorry, Gwen, but I do. I've been to the doctor and my health seems to be good, and I have no STD's and I want to keep it that way. Here's the results," I told her as I tossed the papers on the table. "Do you have any you can show me?"

Gwen gasped at my question. It seemed the possibility she could have been infected by Jack never crossed her

"No...no, Jim, I don't. I'll make an appointment tomorrow and have it done. I did have my period so I'm not pregnant. I'm so sorry this all happened! I've been so stupid, but we both know that. I'm still going to sleep with you from now on, if you really meant it when you said I could," pleaded Gwen.

So Gwen and I began sleeping together again. Sex wasn't an option, but I did sleep better with Gwen at my side. It's one of those things that become part of you that you don't really notice. Sleeping with a woman is better than sleeping alone; that is if she isn't sleeping with anyone else!

A couple weeks later, Gwen was in tears as she told me she had contracted gonorrhea. I wasn't overly surprised, but for some reason, she was stunned. She began treatment immediately.

Time tends to dull our emotions. Eight months after I caught Jack Sherwood with Gwen, she and I had gradually inched back into most of our old habits and activities. In some ways we were doing better because Gwen was trying so hard to be the wife I wanted her to be. We joked, worked in the house and yard together, dined out and traveled. We had not resumed making love.

Gwen had been cleared medically for sometime, but I still saw Jack between her legs, or feeding her his cock and it made me ill. I just couldn't muster any sexual desire for Gwen. It was obvious to her that I felt that way, but she never said anything about it. I often woke up with her clinging to me as she slept and I wondered if I'd ever be able to forget the doubts and fears Gwen's fling with Jack had created in my mind.

I had pretty much forgotten my agreement with Gwen that I was going to have affairs until I was caught. It was a moot point, really. I wasn't looking for any complications and never even came close to an affair.

One evening, Gwen told me she had to travel overnight the following week. There was a seminar she had to attend to keep her job. I could tell she was very nervous about it.

"I'll call when I get there and every couple hours after that," she promised. "I'll be with other married women from the office and I won't drink anything, Jim. You have no reason to worry, I swear."

"It hadn't occurred to me to worry, Gwen," I answered. "I don't have the time or energy to chase you around and watch you. I'll know if you give me reason to doubt you again. You realize that, don't you?"

"I do, Jim, and you'll never get any reasons from me. I love you and want so much for you to love me again. I'd give anything for that to happen," replied Gwen sadly.

It was around seven in the evening. Gwen had just called from her hotel and I convinced her she didn't have to keep calling home. Her guilt and fear were getting on my nerves, but I knew it had to be bothering her even more. I was just finishing my third beer when the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to see Sandy Moore standing on my step. She had on a pair of shorts and a tank top that clung to her body.

"Jim, Ed is out of town on a business trip and our air conditioner has stopped working. If Gwen can spare you for a little while, I was wondering if you could come over and see if you can get it working," she pleaded.

Sandy Moore was about 42 and two of her kids had been in the same class as my daughters. To say she was well preserved for a woman her age, or any age really, was an understatement. She lived on the next block and I had helped her husband, Ed, fix his dishwasher a few years ago. Maybe she thought I was some sort of mechanical genius, or something.

I considered her request. I knew nothing about air conditioners, or anything electrical. On the other hand, I would have the opportunity to look at her ass and tits on display in her outfit. I made my decision based on my little head's desires.

Sandy handed me a cold beer, which I really didn't need, but greatly appreciated, as I looked dumbly at her AC unit. I couldn't even see a reset button. One thing I had learned years ago, after having a TV repairman charge me $92 to plug my TV back in, was to always check the power supply.

To that end, I went down to the basement and looked at the electric service. Bingo! I found a breaker that had kicked. I pushed it back to the 'on' position and returned upstairs. Before I got to the unit, I could hear a soft hum. It was working.

"Jim! Thanks so much!" exclaimed Sandy as she listened to the soft purr of the machine. "There must be some way I can repay you for helping me out like this!"

I woke up and tried to remember where I was and what I had been doing. Then it all came back to me. Sandy had offered me a few more beers, and by nine o'clock we were in her bed, fucking like monkeys! I smiled to myself as I recalled a few of the positions we had enjoyed. I looked to my side and saw Sandy sleeping next to me nude. Her tits were fantastic, so I began to massage them. Soon I was trying to feed from her. Within a few minutes, I was on her, pumping for all I was worth. We climaxed together and I rolled off, feeling better than I had in years.

"Boy, you two must be famished after fucking so hard," sounded a voice from the door. I turned to see Ed, Sandy's husband, carrying a food tray as he entered the bedroom.

"Ed!" gasped Sandy. "I thought you were going to be gone two more days!"

"I can see that, Sandy," laughed Ed. "Jim, you've pinned the horns on me good! I have to give you credit, Man. I guess I'm a cuckold and I'll be eating your cum from Sandy's pussy from now on. She has needed a good fuck for some time. It looks like your big cock really did the job. Look at that messy pussy!"

As he spoke, Ed moved to place the tray in front of me. I realized how the game would end. I decided right then to change the script. I leapt from the bed and actually dove through the bedroom window. The fact that the window was closed and I was on the second floor, mattered not. My life was in danger!

I felt glass gouge my back as I smashed through the window. Luckily, that was soon forgotten as I landed on my shoulder and heard a loud crunching sound. I was stunned but I was still gripped by fear, so I struggled to my feet and ran for safety. At least I tried to run. My right arm hung at my side, swinging in every direction as I staggered for home. Through my shock and pain, I told myself things couldn't get any worse. I would be safe once I got inside my house. I could call an ambulance. As I approached my front door, I heard someone call my name. With some difficulty, I turned.

"Hey, Buddy. You look a little under the weather," chuckled Jack Sherwood as he sauntered toward me.