From: MichaelD38 <michaeld38@aol.com>
Subject: {ASS} NEW: {MichaelD} "The Virtues of Infidelity" (cheating, wife, teen) (3/4)
Date: Tuesday, April 13, 1999 9:54 AM

***********************************************
The Virtues of Infidelity
Copyright 1999 by MichaelD38@aol.com
Free redistribution permitted;
no commericial use without authorization.
************************************************

                                VI.

	Paul Charles worked for a large development company that bought 
big tracts of land and subdivided them into parcels for resale to 
homebuilders.  They built the backbone roads and utilities, and 
sometimes mass-graded the parcels, but built no homes themselves.  Each 
subdivision required massive amounts of paperwork and supervision to 
comply with all the arcane legal regulations and court precedents that 
governed home building in California.  Developers who screwed up the 
process got sued, sometimes out of existence.  So Paul had to devote 
all his attention this job, no matter how much he sympathized with 
Kathy's loneliness.
	Well, maybe sympathy wasn't the best word.  He understood it, but 
bit by bit he was losing his inclination to care.  Over the last year 
or so, he had begun to realize that his wife no longer much attracted 
him sexually.  It wasn't that he didn't think she was beautiful; he 
knew she was.  It was just that plain vanilla sex no longer did much 
for him, and what was more frustrating was that he had no idea what 
might relight his interest in her.  He suspected something was there, 
but he couldn't put his finger on it.
	Kathy seemed to be bugging him for sex less and less often 
lately, so maybe he wasn't the only one who felt like this.  But that 
actually depressed him.  They were only thirty-three, and that was too 
damn young to be losing interest in sex.  Maybe they needed a vacation.  
Some kind of change.  Something to knock them out of this rut.

	Once again, he had to work on Saturday.  He couldn't remember the 
last day off he had had, but this deal they were working on was just 
consuming all of his time.  As he was getting dressed, he accidentally 
dropped his wallet, and it bounced under the bed.  He squatted down and 
reached under the dust cover, trying to find it.
	He found his wallet, but he also found something else--some 
unfamiliar wad of green fabric.  He pulled it out and realized what it 
was: a garter belt, the one from that outfit Kathy had worn for him 
once about six months ago.  He hadn't really liked it, and he hadn't 
seen it again since then.  Had it been here all this time?  No.  As he 
thought of it now, he remembered that Kathy had gotten upset at his 
reaction to the outfit, and had thrown it all angrily into her closet 
afterward.
	So what was it doing here?  He had no clue.  She had worn it only 
once; he was sure of that.  Well, at least only once for him.  As the 
possibility dawned on him, he stared at the garter belt in a daze.  
Could she possibly be having an affair?  God knew she wasn't getting as 
much sex as she wanted.  She had made that clear enough, but he thought 
she understood why he had to work so much.
	He dropped the garter belt to the floor and kicked it back under 
the bed.  He finished getting dressed and walked down to the kitchen, 
where Kathy was waiting with a cup of coffee in a travel mug.
	She handed it to him, and he regarded it blankly.
	"Are you going to be gone all day?"
	"I think so.  I should be back at dinnertime."
	"Okay."
	No doubt about it.  She was waiting for him to leave.
	"What are you going to do?" he asked.
	There it was--a flash of something--uncertainty, nervousness, 
maybe.  She had paused just a split-second to formulate a response.
	"Um, I don't know.  I thought I'd do some gardening."
	He looked down at his coffee and forced himself to take a sip.
	"All right.  I'll see you tonight."
	She gave him a peck on the cheek and a pat on the back.  But it 
was a pat in the direction of the door.  She wanted him gone.
	"Bye."
	He went out to his car and drove down the block, then stopped on 
the corner and shut off the engine.  He turned on his phone and called 
his boss.  Feigning some "family emergency," he begged out of work that 
day.  His boss didn't seem to like it, but didn't argue.

	He sat on the corner for nearly an hour watching his house, but 
nothing happened.  Two or three times, he started the car and almost 
left for work, deciding he was imagining things.  But each time, he saw 
his wife's face as he left.  Something was going on.
	Just before ten, he saw a kid pushing a lawn mower down the 
street.  He was high school-aged probably, and Paul didn't give him any 
real thought--until he stopped in front of their house and went up to 
the front door.  As Paul watched in disbelief, he walked in without 
even knocking.
	Jesus Christ, he thought.  It's the yard boy.  The kid who mowed 
their lawn.  She's screwing the goddamned yard boy.  
	He sat there in a daze for five or ten minutes.  Finally, he got 
out of his car and walked up to the house.  He had no idea what to do--
he was vacillating between killing them both and just turning around 
for work and trying to forget the entire thing.
	When he got to the front door, he found that the kid had left it 
half-closed in his eagerness.  He pushed it open slowly and closed it 
behind him.  From upstairs, he could hear moaning, and he recognized 
Kathy's cries of passion.  They were already busy.  Very slowly, he 
tiptoed up the stairs.  The doors to their bedroom were only partially 
closed, and he dropped to his knees to peer in through the gap.
	Both of them were naked.  Kathy lay on her back on the bed, and 
the kid had his face buried between her legs.  Neither of them were 
paying the slightest attention to anything but each other.  Kathy was 
moaning, holding his head in place and rolling her hips up at him.  He 
could see the kid's tongue rapidly lashing her sex.  
	With a loud cry, Kathy began shuddering into orgasm.  She 
thrashed under the kid's attentions for several seconds before pushing 
him off.  He climbed up the bed and lay next to her.  
	Paul remained where he was, wondering why he hadn't burst in on 
them.  But he couldn't seem to move himself from his spot.  As he 
watched, Kathy sat up and began sucking the kid's penis.  With a stab 
of jealousy, Paul realized the kid was quite a bit bigger than he was--
was that what Kathy was after?  But the jealousy began slowly morphing 
into something else.  Scarcely able to believe it, Paul realized he was 
getting an erection as he watched his wife gobbling the kid's thick 
cock.
	Kathy sat back, threw a leg over the kid's waist, and began to 
ride him energetically.  Paul's gaze remained fixed on the fat dick 
that was plumbing in and out of his wife.  Almost involuntarily, Paul's 
hand drifted to his erection.  Unable to stop himself, he began rubbing 
it, all the while watching his wife screwing some kid half her age.  
The two of them were soon moaning together and thrashing around on the 
bed.  Kathy reached another orgasm, throwing herself to the side.  They 
rolled over, and the kid mounted her from above.  As he began fucking 
Kathy roughly, Paul found himself digging his hand into his pants.  He 
took his erection in his hands and stroked it rapidly.  As the kid 
cried out, planting his come deep into Paul's wife, Paul squirted off 
in his shorts.
	Aghast at what he had done, Paul struggled to his feet and 
slipped down the stairs.  Praying they hadn't seen him, he ducked out 
the front door and walked rapidly to his car.  Not until he got into 
the seat and drove away could he begin to relax.
	Every rational piece of Paul's mind rebelled at what had 
happened.  Kathy was cheating on him; Kathy was fucking another man; 
Kathy was unfaithful.  He should be outraged.  He should be on the 
phone with his lawyer.  He should be out buying a gun.
	But he could not drive that image of the two of them out of his 
head.  He kept thinking about Kathy sucking that kid's cock, about her 
ramming herself down on it repeatedly until she thrashed in orgasm.  
Paul's dick was already throbbing again, trying to erect itself even 
though he had just come a few minutes before.
	He was actually getting turned on at the idea of his wife 
screwing someone else.  It might be insane, but there it was.

	With nothing else to do, Paul went to work.  For a few hours, he 
managed to lose himself in the job, though he kept pausing to think 
about what had happened.  What to do?  Again and again he tried to 
convince himself to be upset, to be angry somehow.  He couldn't do it.  
Every time he tried to summon some sort of outrage, the salacious scene 
he had witnessed that morning kept reappearing in his head.
	So.  If he wasn't going to be outraged, what was he going to be?  
If he wasn't going to stop this affair, what was he going to do about 
it?  An idea began to form slowly in his head.  It seemed crazy at 
first, but it was no crazier than the rest of this. 

                                 VII.

	For a week, Paul turned this idea over in his head, trying to 
decide what to do.  He had a feeling that Kathy was seeing this kid 
during the week too, but he had no way of knowing when.  But on 
Saturdays, when the kid mowed their lawn, Paul knew Kathy was giving 
him one hell of a tip afterward.  So he would have to wait until then.
	He rose that morning fully expecting to see what he did when he 
got to the kitchen: Kathy waiting with a cup of coffee.
	"How long are you going to be today?"
	"All day.  I'm sorry."
	She nodded.  That was not disappointment he saw in her eyes.  She 
gave him a peck on the cheek.
	"It's okay.  I'll see you tonight."
	"Bye."
	"Bye, honey."
	He went out to his car and backed out of the garage.  He drove 
down the street, but stopped on the corner and got out.  Trying to walk 
as casually as he could, he returned to his house.
	He watched the windows closely as he approached but saw nothing.  
He slipped quietly through the side door, listening for any sound of 
his wife.  He heard the shower going upstairs.  Kathy was no doubt 
preparing for her lover.
	Moving as carefully as he could, he crept upstairs.  The shower 
was still going, but Kathy was out of sight in the bathroom.  Paul's 
closet was around the corner from it, and he ducked inside, shutting 
the door behind him.  He positioned himself as best he could, peeking 
out around the sliding door.  From the far end, he could just get a 
glimpse of their bed.  He shut the door for now and waited.
	His heart refused to stop pounding in agitation, especially once 
he heard the shower stop.  He could hear his wife walking around the 
room, getting ready.  
	For nearly an hour, Paul sat uncomfortably in his closet.  He 
could hear Kathy moving around, but did not dare peek out for fear of 
being seen.  Then things were quiet for about five minutes.  Then he 
heard the front door open, and someone climbing the stairs. 
	"Hello, Casey."
	So that was the kid's name, Paul thought.
	"Hi."
	Unable to wait any longer, Paul opened the closet door slightly.  
His wife was leaning on her dresser, facing the door to their bedroom.  
She wore only a silk camisole that just barely covered her.  He 
couldn't see the kid yet; he was out of sight around the corner.
	Kathy raised her right leg, putting her foot on the bed and 
lifting up the edge of her camisole.  A moment later he saw why.
	"I shaved my pussy for you.  Do you like it, Casey?"
	Paul gasped.  This was not Kathy, his stable, professional wife.  
She had never acted like this with him.  
	The kid suddenly came into view, moaning in anticipation.  When 
he got close to Kathy, she extended her arm, holding him off.  The kid 
dropped to his knees, bending forward and attacking Kathy's sex with 
his mouth.  Kathy leaned back, taking his head in her hands.
	Paul fumbled for his erection, digging it out of his pants.  He 
began stroking rapidly, not wanting to come this soon but unable to 
stop himself.  The kid was going crazy, moaning as he licked at Kathy.  
Kathy scooted back on the dresser, putting her other foot over the 
kid's shoulder.  She whimpered, pulling him closer.  She began to shake 
under Casey's attack, and finally cried out, thrashing in climax and 
pushing him off.
	Paul forced himself to let go of his erection, knowing he was 
about to squirt off all over his closet door.  The ache was unbearable, 
but he made himself wait.  He didn't have to wait very long.  
	Casey stood, and Kathy dropped to the floor in front of him.  She 
dug his stiff cock out of his jeans and took it in her hand.  She 
stroked it a few times, looking up at Casey's face.  She extended her 
tongue and wiggled it over his glans.
	"What do you say, Casey?"
	"Uh, suck my cock.  I want you to suck my cock."
	Kathy's mouth then descended onto his penis.  Most of it 
disappeared into her before she pulled back.  Paul was mesmerized, and 
his hand returned to his erection.  He locked his eyes on the spot 
where Casey's cock was sliding in and out of his wife's mouth.  She 
bobbed over him rapidly, and he could see her cheeks hollowing as she 
sucked on him.  
	Paul masturbated furiously, all thoughts of restraint gone.  
Casey was oblivious to everything but his penis, holding Kathy's head.  
She gripped Casey's balls in her hand, playing with him.  Casey cried 
out, legs shaking, and at the moment Paul could see him coming, when he 
knew Casey's come was spurting into his wife's mouth and he could see 
Kathy's throat convulsing as she swallowed, Paul came himself, 
splattering the back of his closet door with his sperm.  The scent of 
it rose into the air around him, sour and pungent.
	Paul leaned back against his clothes, trying to catch his breath.  
He had never come that hard in his life, had never felt as drained as 
he did now, and he didn't want to think about why.  Not fifteen feet 
away from him, his wife of four years was engaged in a passionate act 
of adultery.  
	A minute or two later, he recovered enough to look back out the 
door.  The two of them were on the bed together, clothes gone, 
caressing each other.  He couldn't quite hear what they were saying, 
but he could see Kathy playing with Casey's cock.  As Paul watched in 
amazement, she brought him back to erection within a few minutes.  
	Kathy straddled the kid as Paul had seen her do the week before.  
The angle was perfect; he could see right up between the kid's legs, 
right between Kathy's buttocks to where that fat cock was slamming into 
his wife.  
	Paul reached for his cock again, knowing he would never get hard 
again this soon but not caring.  He stroked himself slowly, trying to 
summon another erection.  Kathy and Casey were taking their time now, 
moving slowly.  Kathy rode the kid in a smooth rhythm, rubbing herself 
against Casey's cock.  He saw her leaning back, reaching around in 
front of herself.
	"Do you like that, Casey?  I'm getting myself off for you.  Watch 
me."
	Paul's cock leapt in his hand at those words.  The ache at the 
base of his penis was deliciously agonizing, but slowly he began to 
erect again as he watched his wife masturbating over Casey's cock.  She 
shuddered, she shook, and she soon thrashed in orgasm, throwing herself 
forward.  Casey rolled her over, but she refused to allow him to simply 
mount her again.  Instead, she rolled on her stomach, pushing her 
buttocks back at him.  
	Paul could see it again now, could see Casey stabbing himself 
into Kathy's firm butt.  He could see the kid's balls bouncing around, 
balls that were probably fizzling with another load of jizz that he was 
about to plant into Paul's wife.  Kathy was slamming herself back at 
him, meeting every thrust.
	"Casey," she moaned, "do you want to fuck me in the ass?"
	The kid moaned incoherently, unable respond in his shock.  Paul 
himself was no less surprised; Kathy never once indicated a desire for 
anal sex with him.  His cock throbbed painfully, and he stroked it 
faster.
	He watched in amazement as Kathy reached under her, guiding 
Casey's cock up to her ass.  Casey fumbled with her for a moment.  He 
could see Kathy trying to stretch herself open, trying to expose 
herself to his entry.  Then Casey forced himself in, and Paul watched 
as that fat cock disappeared into his wife's ass.
	Kathy kept her hand under herself and began masturbating as Casey 
slid awkwardly in and out of her.  She cried out, bracing herself 
against the headboard with her free hand.  Paul lost it again and 
pounded his dick insanely, so hard he worried about them hearing him.  
But they were clearly lost in each other, and were making so much noise 
themselves that they could not possibly hear.  
	Kathy cried out, thrashing around under Casey, who was himself 
groaning as he closed in on his orgasm.  Paul felt his sperm rising at 
last, and the three of them came as one, Casey spurting his come into 
Kathy's ass, Paul coating his closet door with another load.  
	After that, Paul was too drained to do anything else, as aroused 
as he was.  He watched as Kathy and Casey somehow fucked a third time a 
few minutes later, but finally the kid left and Kathy got into the 
shower.  Paul slipped out of his closet and left the house as quickly 
as he could.

                                VIII.

	Kathy stood under the spray, trying to let the glow of their 
lovemaking persist as long as possible.  What had possessed her to 
offer her ass to Casey the way she had?  She had never really been much 
attracted to anal sex, but all of sudden, when Casey was pounding from 
behind, the idea popped into her head.  And she had done it.  Drops of 
his come were still dribbling out of her, and she tried to clean 
herself with her finger.
	God.  She was close to losing it over Casey.  She knew he was in 
love with her, teenage love at least.  He had as much as said so.  She 
cared about him, but all she really loved about him was his cock and 
his incredible stamina.  One of these days she was going to try to fuck 
him until he was unable to get it up anymore, just to see if she could.  
	She realized she had not made love with Paul for over three weeks 
now.  She would be ovulating again soon, because that had been the last 
time.  So either she and Casey had to take a break, or she would have 
to figure out some protection to use.  
	She wondered if Paul had noticed her change of mood, no longer 
seeming to care about their not having sex.  She wondered at his 
reaction, were he to find out the truth.
	She finished her shower and began to dry off.  After digging a 
bra and panty out of her dresser, she went to her closet and tried to 
decide what to wear for the rest of the day.
	She was picking through her blouses when something caught her 
attention.  What was that smell?  She turned around, sniffing.  It was 
sperm, no question.  She had known that odor since she was sixteen and 
had given Robby Boudreaux a hand-job in the back seat of his Camaro.  
Nothing else smelled like sperm.
	Convinced that Casey had left a calling card somewhere, she tried 
to find it lest Paul discover it.  But when she walked toward the bed, 
the smell faded.  She turned around, sniffing again.  She took a step 
back toward the bathroom.  There it was again.
	Where was it?  She stood between her closet and Paul's.  It was 
right around here somewhere.  She leaned closer to Paul's closet, and 
the smell intensified.  Confused, she slid back the door.
	Now the smell was twice as intense.  She squatted down, 
inspecting the closet.  She pawed at the carpet.  There it was--a damp 
spot right next to the track.  She brought her fingers up to her nose.  
It was sperm.  Somehow, there was sperm on the floor of Paul's closet.
	Regarding her fingers in amazement, she sat down and leaned 
against her closet door.  What was going on?  Casey had been nowhere 
near Paul's closet.  He had come into the bedroom, fucked her, and 
left.  
	The sperm was fresh.  She was sure of that.  But if Casey was not 
responsible for it, who was?
	Her heart began to pound in fear, and she felt her body tensing 
up.  There was only one possibility, as incredible as it seemed.  Who 
else could have come in here but Paul?  Who else would have known?
	She closed her eyes and began to shake as the reality of it 
unfolded in her head.  Paul knew.  Paul had come back home and hidden 
in her closet while she was with Casey.  He had watched them.  Watched 
them and masturbated while they were fucking.
	Nervous convulsions began to rack her body.  She buried her head 
in her hands and rocked back and forth, sobbing in confusion and 
anguish.  No, no, no, no, no, she thought.  This had not happened.  She 
had dreamed it all.  She had not cheated on Paul.  She loved him, even 
if he drove her crazy by ignoring her.  Casey was a figment of her 
imagination.
	"Oh, God," she sobbed, "please.  Please, please, please, no!"

	About an hour later, she had recovered enough to think about what 
had happened.  Had it really been Paul?  The only other possibility she 
could think of was Casey bringing a friend with him to watch.  But when 
could this friend have possibly gotten into Paul's closet?  She had 
been upstairs since Paul left.  And as she thought back through that 
morning, she could not detect anything unusual in the way Casey had 
been behaving.  
	So it had to have been Paul.  He had come back here, 
deliberately, and hidden himself in her closet to watch her having sex 
with Casey.  Not just to watch, to masturbate while he was watching.  
Why?
	For some reason beyond her comprehension, Paul was aroused at the 
idea of her infidelity.  Aroused at the idea of her screwing someone 
else.  Aroused enough to want to do something this crazy.
	What to do?  She was not capable of confronting him with this; 
not when it would mean confessing her infidelity.  Even if he obviously 
knew already.  She began pushing it back down in her mind.  Maybe this 
was all her imagination.  Maybe somehow she had gotten some of Casey's 
sperm into Paul's closet, however ridiculous that sounded.  Maybe, just 
maybe, if she ignored this whole thing, it would go away.

	A few days went by.  Kathy was unable to sense anything different 
in Paul.  He was working so much that it would have been hard to detect 
anything in him anyway.  She would lie in bed at night, wondering what 
was going through his head, wondering why the idea of her having sex 
with another man aroused him.
	Wednesday night, she forced herself to snuggle with him, to 
indicate her desire for sex.  At first, she thought he would reject her 
as he usually did, but then she remembered that she was ovulating this 
week.  
	"Honey, we need to.  It's time."
	"Oh.  You mean . . . "
	"Yeah.  We can be quick about it if you want."
	It was dark, so she couldn't quite read his reaction.
	"Okay."
	She cuddled with him, trying to drive all thoughts of Casey out 
of her brain.  He kissed her for about thirty seconds, then pushed up 
her nightshirt to get at her breasts.  When they had first been dating, 
he had been obsessed with them, lavishing all kinds of attention on 
them.  Now, he would suck on her nipples for about ten seconds each 
before mounting her.
	She reached down for his penis, discovering to her surprise that 
he was completely flaccid.
	"Is something wrong?"
	"Uh."  He didn't answer her right away.  "I don't know."
	She slipped under the covers and took him into her mouth.  She 
sucked on him eagerly, trying to ignore the obvious difference in 
sensations between Paul and Casey's rock-hard penis.  She worked on him 
for a few minutes, but nothing seemed to happen.
	"I'm sorry.  I guess I'm just tired."
	She sighed.
	"It's all right."
	"All this work lately."
	"It's all right, honey.  I understand.  You don't have to 
apologize."
	She snuggled with him and tried to get to sleep, wondering what 
was going on.

***********************************************
The Virtues of Infidelity
Copyright 1999 by MichaelD38@aol.com
Free redistribution permitted;
no commericial use without authorization.
************************************************