That Phrase... Sylvia Ch. 01

I wanted to cry when I saw what she was wearing when she came downstairs for her date the night our marriage died. The clingy black dress we had picked out for our tenth anniversary which accented her breasts, the narrowing below them, and her broad hips that might have turned off some men, but had definitely turned me on for the last fifteen years.

No, Sylvia was not a small woman; but she was beautiful to me with her curves in the right places along with her long brown hair, green eyes, and pert nose that definitely did not match the rest of her face. Her lips were plump naturally, unlike some women's, and I had loved kissing them, sucking on them, and seeing them wrapped around my cock when she gave me one of her excellent blowjobs.

The matching "fuck me" pumps shattered my last hope that she was not planning what I had feared she had planned for the evening. I made one last attempt at saving our marriage.

"Sylvia, I'm begging you, please don't go out tonight. Stay here with me and let's figure out together how we can spice up our sex life with only the two of us involved. I promise I'll try anything that doesn't involve pain or other people." I said and hated myself for the whine I heard in my own voice.

"It's too late. My mind's made up. If you wait up for me, I'm sure you won't regret it." She purred at me as she walked toward me.

I heard a car horn blast outside of the house and hurried to the window as much to get away from her as to see the car of the son of a bitch who was too lazy to come to the door for his hot date with my sometime in the future ex-wife. It was not a flashy sports car like I was anticipating but an everyday four door sedan that I could not determine the make of from the sideways view I had of it. It did not really matter though because the big dent in the rear passenger side door would make it easy to find if I wanted to later down life's road.

I skirted around the living room to stay away from Syl and saw a perplexed look cross her face. I did not acknowledge her goodbye before she exited the front door for what I was sure was the last time as my faithful, loving wife. I still had things to do so I suppressed the tears and anger I felt at that moment and began the next phase to my plan.

My car was parked down the street in friends of ours two car garage and all of the lights were out inside the house with only the outside porch light on when Syl returned home at 2 A.M. I was sitting in the chair from the living room in the guest bedroom which would be my bedroom until the divorce was final because I knew Syl had given herself to another man tonight or she would not be coming in this late. I had the digital camera she had given me on my thirtieth birthday, but still worked perfectly, in my pocket so I could preserve any visible proof of her infidelity if I got the chance.

I did not answer when she called out to see if I was home and stood to follow her when she rushed passed the open door of my room. It sounded like she was crying as she passed and my heart sank like it always had when I heard her crying. My emotional side wanted to rush to her and comfort her like every other time she had been crying, but my rational side kept me from doing it.

I no longer considered her my wife and did not want her sexually like I had from the time we had met until that moment. I slipped silently down the hall on bare feet and stood outside the master bedroom door which would be her room from now on and listened to her cry as my broken heart crumbled into dust with each sob she emitted. I heard the bed springs squeak when she arose from the bed and heard the bathroom door shut only moments later. I slipped into her room and found her dress and bra on the floor.

I looked for her panties, but they were not there and the first thought I had was: "The bastard kept them as a souvenir." followed by "Nah, she wore them into the bathroom and put them in the hamper. I'll try to get them tomorrow if I can."

Syl had not locked the bathroom door, hell there were only the two of us and we had stopped locking doors years ago. To be honest, we usually did not even bother closing them. I opened the door and thanked the heavens that I had thought to spray the hinges earlier in the day with WD-40.

I had my camera ready when she emerged from the shower and the lighting in the bath was bright enough that the automatic flash did not activate. Syl had her face covered with the towel she was drying her hair with and did not know I was there. I managed to snap off two pictures of the love bites on her breasts and the finger marks on her upper thighs near her new, to me, shaved pussy before the noise from the camera registered in her brain.

"Don, what the hell are you doing? Stop taking pictures of me like this." She yelled at me as I managed to take one last picture of the hickies all around her neck before she grabbed her robe and clutched it to herself covering up her nude body.

I did not say a word as I turned and went back to my room. I locked the door behind me knowing she would not be able to pick the new keyed door knob. I put my old headphones on that covered my whole ears, turned on the mini-stereo I had found in the attic and fixed the day before, and managed to go to sleep.

To be continued...