The Blanket Policy

By this time it is nearly 3 p.m. and I decide to put on the college football game. Seems Wisconsin is playing Purdue. There is Jan's old Alma matter in living color, live from the city of her probably wild college days on our big screen. I watch half-heartedly and just before half-time she pulls the big SUV in the garage. It is about 4:30 as she walks in with a few shopping bags. I let my suspicion ease a bit; the bags are really from downtown. She tells me that there are some groceries in the back of the SUV so I dutifully carry those in. Her timeline for today seems in order considering how slowly women generally shop, it looks like Cindy and she moved right along. Maybe I am blowing up over nothing, I need to be cool for sure and not get carried away, there is evidence that something is up, but it is still circumstantial. How many guys blow a marriage on just suspicion? I don't want to be that guy.

We go out for dinner that Saturday evening, the mornings events on the deck not mentioned. After a nice meal and a few drinks at a local Mexican place, we went back home for what I was sure was going to be a sex night. Jan had more to drink than I and that was the custom since we got married. Jan does not drink often, maybe two or three times a month. The thing is Jan drinks until she is drunk, plain and simple. I know that her father was an alcoholic and she has followed in his footsteps by some definitions. She cannot or will not stop drinking once she starts, she drinks to drunkenness. In all truth she is fully functional the next day, and it is just a few times each year, but still I consider it a drinking problem. I gave up fighting over it years ago; there were times I held her head while she puked margaritas after a night out with the girls. Between retches she would say "never again." I knew better, there is always an again, just further down the road next time.

This night was no different; I drove home from the restaurant after my two drinks. We went in the house and I opened a bottle of water while she fixed herself another Margarita. The old country song "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" rang true for Jan again as in about a half hour she was nude on the couch trying to distract me from the TV. It worked of course. We got after it there on the couch. I was long stroking her; she was bucking underneath, working hard for her orgasm when it came she clawed my back. That sent me into a spasm that was one of the best in a while for me.

After the fun, and another drink for Jan, I killed my water, said goodnight, and went up to bed. She stayed downstairs and was already switching the channel to Cinemax. Like many McMansions our upstairs hallway opens out onto the living rooms vaulted ceiling and you can see from the railing well into the den. I awoke alone about midnight and took a peek downstairs. The living room was empty as the TV blared on but I noticed the light in the den. By leaning out I can see quite a bit of the couch in there. Jan was still nude, on her laptop. I could not hear much due to the distance and the TV sound. The whole thing looked suspicious, maybe some online chat? I could make out some talking during quiet parts of the TV show. But there was no way to tell if it was her chatting with some stud, or she was watching a cooking show on Youtube. I went back to bed, tomorrow I will check into her tech.

Sunday morning dawns as bright and nice as Saturday was. Jan is next to me in bed. I recall her coming up around 1:30 which is not unusual; she likes to stay up late on the weekend. I get up and fix the typical "Literotica Loving Wives" cuck breakfast of bacon and eggs for us. She gets up about a half hour after I finish and microwaves her part of the meal. We chat a bit about the dinner last night and she goes back up to get ready for church. She goes to church more for the social value than the religion; at least that is my opinion. Myself, well I was brought up going to church, but usually only take in the Easter and Christmas Eve services. For a few years this was a sore point for her, but it is rare that I get nagged to go if I keep my mouth shut about how the church is run and who runs it.

When Jan leaves for the service I decide to take a look at her home laptop, usually she uses it even though we have a desktop in the den that is considered mostly my place of browsing. Jan is smart about computers, with her line of work she picked up a lot over the years. Her laptop is password protected but to my relief the password has not changed since she last had me look at a problem with it a year ago. I find nothing incriminating anywhere, although she suspiciously deletes her history after each session. I can't say that is anything, my computer is set the same; no point is making trouble over a bit of porn browsing. I honestly cannot recall if it was set that way last time I looked at it, but I file that away.

Her work computer is in its carry bag. I take it out and no luck it is password protected with something I don't know. I don't press further as it belongs to the park district and I would not want to make a mess of it. With IT people watching their moves I doubt there is much to see there.

Her iPhone is with her, always. I know she has her home and work e-mail set up on it. My only chance to see it would be when she is in the shower; she even takes it with her when she uses our garden tub.

Overall the search of the tech so far is a bust, which makes me feel a bit better. I sit on the back deck after the search drinking coffee and thinking back to the timeline of the blanket soiling. During the summer there is only one thing that stands out and that is her work-place annual picnic. It is held each year at the nicest park in the district. This park features baseball and soccer fields, a huge picnic area with shelters. On the back edge is a very old forest that has been well managed through the years and prepared with trails that go back into the valley for a couple miles.

The park district picnic last summer was on a beautiful mid June Saturday. As usual the district reserved the entire park for the annual event. Making for plenty of room for the over 150 folks in attendance. Each year the food is catered in. This year was pulled pork and all the fixing's along with a full service bar, for which each over legal drinking age participant was given tickets for 3 free drinks. Of course Jan had loads of spare tickets she had collected from her non-drinking co-workers, so she was set for a good time. After the meal was cleared about 2 p.m. there was an announcement for everyone who signed up for the games to report to the pavilion near the largest clearing. Generally Jan does not participate and we watch the fun. She ran; drink in hand, to the pavilion without a word to me. Apparently after getting 4 margaritas into the fun, she was taking part this year.

The first event was the potato sack race. Jan was not in the lineup for this, somewhat to my dismay as the slightly tight white district picnic official t-shirt across her tits would have made for some great flopping views even in her bra. Nonetheless her co-workers had a few flopping moments which the men in the crowd including myself enjoyed. Some even filmed the races with their phones. Two heats of female racers produced two winners that faced off for the $150 gift card. A tall athletic girl that I recall a few years back ran track for our local high school, won it all. Sadly she was pretty flat upstairs, but her late 20's brunette opponent was more generously endowed. Bravely she raced to the end, flopping nicely all the way for the cameras in her t-shirt.

Three heats of male potato sack hoppers resulted in 3 winners for the grand finale race. A young fellow from the tree trimming crew smoked the field. He was early 20's I recall him playing varsity football as a tight end his senior year. He smoked the competition for a nice $150 payday.

I recall looking back up into the staging area, as I was positioned near the finish with rest of the crowd on a bit of a rise so we all had a great view of the full course. I saw Jan and her 3 legged partner getting ready. One of the female interns was putting a Velcro strap just below the leg of Jan's fairly tight khaki shorts, another strap below the knee and one at the ankle. The park district knew how these games worked, no cheating due to a failed strap it seems. When the intern moved away I was a bit surprised to see Jan's partner was another of the college interns. Marcus Martin was on break from Northwestern. I knew the Martin family very well. Marcus and his twin brother Tony were local high school football legends. They led our team to the state championship two years in a row just a few years ago. Marcus was currently playing football on a scholarship for Northwestern but he was focused more on his studies and getting a degree. I recall he was now a second string running back, mostly used on kickoff returns and punt coverage. His brother Tony on the other hand was lined up for a NFL career. Three years a starter for Michigan State he was all conference the last two seasons. A fearsome linebacker who has ended a few running back careers, he is the exact opposite of his mild mannered brother Marcus. Tony is a handful and has been since his father was killed. Marcus and Tony were named for their fathers two NFL football heroes when he was growing up. Legendary players Marcus Allen and Tony Dorsett. The boy's mother died giving birth to the youngest twin Tony. I am sure had she lived the boys would be named differently, but as far as anyone knew Margaret had no names picked out for the boys.

The father of the twins, Carl Martin, was a detective for our local police force. He worked his way up from patrol officer to detective in the course of 20 years of service. Carl was the local Crimestoppers director and was no longer on patrol; mostly he was involved with public relations. He and I actually did a video for local cable that showed how shoplifters were caught, held, and prosecuted by the big orange store. Carl and I were close, and I knew his sons very well. We all fished together when our boys were young. Carl and I both loved to head up north and ride our snowmobiles. The last time we got to go we took our two snowmobiles and since they were now old enough we rented 3 more for the boys up there, it was a great weekend.

One night after speaking at the local Rotary club Carl was returning home when a call came over the radio of an armed robbery at the 7-11 just a few blocks from the club. Carl, of course, took the call. He pulled into the parking lot and waited behind his open car door with his gun drawn. He could see inside that the gunman was just turning to leave the store. As the robber opened the door and backed out he fired 3 shots into the clerks' desk. We know now that the shots killed the 18 year old girl who worked there part-time evenings. Carl responded by racing toward the armed robber firing his Glock 17. The robber was fatally hit but on his fall forward got off one more shot. Carl was hit fatally, center mass. Carl lost his life that night. The two boys, sophomores in high school at the time, lost their father. I lost a dear friend.

Carl's brother Jackson Martin was the closest relative of Marcus and Tony and they moved in with him after the funeral. Jackson was a single man and younger than his brother Carl. Jackson also was quite the ladies man, and had a stable of willing ladies for his weekend fun. He worked as an assistant football coach, and was head basketball coach at the high school the boys attended. I was never real confident in Jackson's ability to raise the two young men right, and that fear was realized soon after, as Tony became more than just the handful that he had been when Carl was alive. Marcus on the other hand toughed it out and ignored the shenanigans at Jackson's apartment. He immersed himself in his studies and maintained Honor Roll status. I guess Tony got tired of that because he rarely stayed in the apartment. He would stay over at his teammates and a few fellows who were not really friends took him around and got him started drinking. Since he really had no one to answer to, he did as he pleased. By his senior year he had been caught drinking twice. Both times the cops, loyal to his late father let him off with a warning. They did him no favor in truth. When I heard he had knocked up a cheerleader I finally decided to step in and have a talk with him.

Tony arrived in my office dressed like a thug. I explained to him how he was letting down the memory of his Dad by finding so much trouble. He blew up, called me names. Said his Dad never liked me that he just pretended to, for business. He told me to fuck off and mind my own business. I stayed calm and gave him a card with my cel number and personal e-mail and told him to think about where his life was heading, and to call me if I could help. He laughed it off and left.

About a month after speaking with Tony, this was still during his senior year of high school; he paid the store another visit. Just before closing one evening Tony and two of his street friends came in and broke some of the glass display fixtures in our lighting department to the tune of $1500. Our security guys caught them and held them for the police. I was called in by the local police officers and they immediately asked me to not press charges. I refused, saying that jailing them, even if just for the night, would only do some good. The trio was sent to the precinct and booked. Soon after Jackson came down and bailed out Tony. The next morning when I arrived at my office half of the police committee, the States Attorney, a judge, and the state union head of my employees bargaining unit, greeted me in my foyer. We all crammed into my office and after everyone presented their opinion it was decided for the good of the local team, and Tony, that the charges be dropped. I hate to admit it but I relented under pressure. I am in business here and these people could put a huge crimp in each aspect of my store.

Charges were dropped. Tony vowed to everyone that he would get even with me for making him spend 2 hours in the local jail. I only feared he would get his self in deeper trouble eventually, and hoped that he would see the light and straighten up as he became a man.

An Arousal of Suspicion

Marcus and Jan took the starting line and waited for the starter's gun. On the shot they took off and got a huge led early. Thinking back now I realize that they had to have practiced their steps as most of the folks faced about a 20 yard learning curve to get the rhythm. Marcus and Jan were in step right out of the gate. If you have ever seen a 3 legged race it is almost a hopping motion when the center pair of legs hit the ground. Jan's tits were jumping quite a bit under the white t-shirt even though it was obvious her bra was doing yeoman's work holding the 38D's in. Marcus and Jan won the first heat easily. Another heat ran and the winners of both heats were to face off for $300 to the winning team.

There was a break in the action as they gave the second heat winners a chance to get their wind back. I looked back to the starting line and did not see Jan; Marcus seemed to be looking for her as well. I was afraid the drinks and sun had gotten to her as I saw her come from the ladies restroom. Nevertheless, the teams lined up and I readied my phone for the video of the grand finale race. The gun fired and Jan and Marcus got another great start, it was a rout, they won by 10 yards as I filmed on my phone. I had noticed Jan was flopping a bit on the screen of my phone on each stride, but when she turned toward me at the finish line I was shocked to see that she had removed her bra! She hugged Marcus for what looked to be an embarrassingly long time. She then came to me and gave me a sloppy wet kiss, pressing her tits against me. After she and Marcus accepted their award Jan took off again into the crowd, fresh drink in hand. I decided to get a beer, find a place to be alone, and see just how bad the video of her braless run was.

It was bad, but also so erotic. Jan's soft tits flopped in step with each stride for 40 yards. As she went by her nipples were hard, her large dark-pink areole prominent. There was a big smile on her face as well as Marcus's. Her khaki shorts had ridden up with the strap, almost to her ass cheek when they finished. Even worse is that it is revealed in the background that dozens of other people were filming as well. At the time, I recall, that I would bet that this makes YouTube before we leave the park. Jan and Marcus of course, were the life of the party as evening falls and things break up. The fun ends up with me pouring Jan into the front seat as almost everyone is gone. I drive her home and she makes it inside to the couch before passing out. Another great picnic, same result each year.

As I wait here at home for her to return from church I have to ask. Could it be Marcus? I recall that the victory hug was much too long for my comfort. I need to think about this more and see if I can recall any other times she mentioned him, and hunt for more clues. Jan arrives home just after noon with take-out Portillos. This week my Italian beef meal is not the same as most Sunday's. This one is tainted with doubt about my wife, and doubt about a trusted young friend.

Tuesday My Package Arrives

The semen test kit arrived just before lunch. I ducked out and drove home; pretty sure that no one would be around as Jan was supposed to be at work. I arrived home and got the tote down from the rafters in the garage. The test kit was made in Japan but it quickly determined that the blanket was coated with US Grade A semen.

My fears were confirmed then, most likely this cum had poured from a cock on withdrawal from my wife's cunt. No longer did I have to wonder about Marcus, it was most likely him. They could take a break for sex about anytime of the workday due to the lax supervision of the park district offices. I put the kit and the blanket back in the tote and return it to the hiding spot in the garage. Maybe that will be evidence. I need to see how this sort of thing works I guess.

Jan came home a couple hours later, and to tell the truth I had to do some acting to make like all was normal. I just could not look her in the eyes or even look at her in the same way as I had done for so many years. She has most likely destroyed our marriage. But I realize I need more proof, I need to catch them in the act or as close as possible without shelling out for a private investigator. Like I said, her iPhone is always with her except when she showers, so as she took a long hot shower before bed I cracked her 6 digit password and added her to my find friends app and turned off her alerts so she would most likely never know she was being tracked. I did not have time to check much else, but since she was tech careful so far, I expect that nothing would be found on the phone.

Wednesday Revelation

We keep a company car to use for small deliveries and trips to other stores. My secretary informed me that it was due for service so I dutifully volunteered to take care of it during lunch. On a cool late October day around noon I left the store for a quick bite at Panera across the street before heading to the dealership. Waiting in line at the drive up, I remembered the Find Friends app and checked Jan's location. Seems she was on the move and heading into Roosevelt Park which is north of our store about 2 miles. Roosevelt is a heavily wooded old forest type park with few amenities. There are a couple shelter houses for picnics and also 4 old cabins that were built of stone in the WPA era of the 1930's. These cabins were rented out to families during the summer but as a rule the park is somewhat deserted this time of year. Jan and I have stayed there a few times in years past, and my son Steven killed his first deer just behind the ridge where the cabins sit. In a couple weeks the district closes the park to the public and allows licensed bow-hunters to rent the cabins and harvest deer to control the population. It is all done without publicity of course.