Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #10

Much more than that, her numerous, sexual affairs were as if she continually kicked him in the balls over and again. For her to rub his nose in her shit by bringing these men home with her and to his house was a blow to his dignity, a slap to his masculinity, and a hit to his manhood. How dare she so disrespect him when he's still financially supporting her? If that was her intention of showing him that she was the queen bitch, the boss of him, and that he was a nothing and a no one, she had done a good job at that.

By her rejecting him for sex, she made him feel small. By her having sex with other men without caring who saw her and who knew she was unfaithful to him, she made him feel powerless. If not for him then for her own reputation, she could have been more discreet, especially in front of their neighbors and especially by not having sex with his friends and the husbands of their neighbors. He heard through the neighborhood, gossip grapevine that she's been seen at the mall, in bars, at the movies, and even in the grocery store with men. Men, men, men, his wife had surrounded herself with horny, young men. She had immersed herself in sex and had drowned herself in two olive, gin Martinis.

Whenever she denied him the pleasure of sex, it was as if she kicked him hard in the balls again and again, stomped on his head, and sat on his chest while pummeling his face with her fists. Having to ask her for sex and only to be denied, he felt emasculated, he felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated, and he felt ashamed. After a while, not wanting to put himself through the rejection again, he stopped asking. With him already playing his hand and with her always trumping whatever card he put down, and with her knowing that he had no other cards to play, she still had cards left to play. With her always holding all of the cards, even though he was the man and she was the woman, it was always his game to lose and her game to win.

Something her other men never had to do, he literally had to beg her for sex, and she still refused him and rejected him by having sex with someone younger. Even then, complaining that her nipples hurt, that she had her period, or that she had a headache, she wouldn't even allow him the pleasure of playing with her tits, sucking on her nipples, or even eating her pussy. The sap of a cuckold husband that he is, he finally felt grateful when his drunken whore of a wife allowed him to cum on her tits and not even in her mouth. He was a fool to allow her to make him feel so powerless when he controlled all of the power. He had the money. She didn't. With the house in his name, she lived in his house.

Tomorrow, before he hires a divorce attorney, he'll go to the bank, clean out the joint accounts, and put the house in his daughter's name. That way, when he leaves her, she can't derive any monetary benefit from the sale his house. Something she'd probably no doubt do, she won't be able to move some man in the house and sell him his house for a case of gin and a case of vermouth.

Tomorrow before he even talks to her about wanting a divorce, he'd cancel all of her credit cards. Now she'd have to walk the streets, stand on a corner, or hang around a downtown bar to get her booze. Let one of her many boyfriends keep her afloat in booze because he's done supporting her. Now, without him supporting her, she'd finally have to revert to the whore that she really is to buy her booze. Now, without him supporting her, she'd have to do something she hasn't done in twenty-five years. She'd have to get a job.

"Done. I'm tired of her shit."

He was angry. He was hurt. He didn't know what else to do with his feelings and with her but to divorce her and to finally kick her cheating ass out of his house. He needed to put her behind him so that he could go one alone without his wife and with his life. With enough, enough, it's about time he took a stand. With enough, enough, tired of putting up with all of her bullshit, all of her lovers, all of her empty gin and vermouth bottles, and the stale smell of her cigarettes stinking up the house, he was just tired of her insanity. From the day of their wedding when she had sex with his best man in the backseat of the limo during their reception, she had never been a faithful wife.

"Fucking bitch," he said under his breath. "Drive to the corner," he said to the driver with impatience. "I'll walk home from there."

The driver drove to the corner of his street and stopped.

"That's thirty-two dollars and seventy-five cents," said the driver.

"Here's forty. Keep the change," said Jay alighting from the cab.

* * * * *

With his last meeting cancelled, he was able to get an earlier flight home. Knowing she wouldn't even answer his call, he didn't even bother calling her to tell her that he'd be home early. He had posted his schedule with flight times and flight numbers on the refrigerator but now with all of that changed, Ruth thought he'd be home early tomorrow evening instead of late tonight. She had no idea that he was already here and standing out front with suitcase in hand. Obviously, with Chris here at this hour, she never expected him to be home tonight.

'Surprise!'

It was late and with all of his neighbor's lights off, obviously they were all in bed sleeping. The only light on the whole street was a dim nightlight in his living room. Rather than go through the front door and ruin their private, little, drunken party, an affair that he'd rather not see, he walked down the driveway and quietly entered his house through the backdoor. Feeling even more emasculated, he never had to enter his own house through the backdoor when Chris, no doubt, entered his house through the front door.

As if he was a burglar entering through the backdoor, he was hoping to sneak in his house undetected and get in bed without her knowing he was home. With her downstairs in the front of the house and him upstairs in the back of the house, no doubt with her drunk and busy having sex with her young lover or sleeping, she'd never hear him flush the toilet before getting in bed. Besides, an old toilet and even older plumbing, as if the house was haunted with a ghost going to the bathroom, sometimes it flushed by itself anyway.

Hopefully she'd stay asleep drunk on the couch with Christopher and, not having to hear her voice, he'd have peace and quiet the rest of the night. Then, early tomorrow, before she had awakened from her drunken stupor, he'd take a shower, get dressed, and go to the office. With her oblivious to what he does, she'd probably think that he's still away on business. With her oblivious to his schedule, she'd probably still think he was still in Japan on business.

Business? Unable to be completely angry at her over her extramarital affairs because of his extramarital shenanigans, his business trips had turned into monkey business trips lately. With him traveling the country and all over the world, as if a sailor having women in every port, he had a bevy of women everywhere, mostly paid prostitutes and escorts, who willingly would do whatever his wife wouldn't. With her having an unlimited supply of young lovers, he had an unlimited supply of beautiful, young women. If only she knew that he was as unfaithful as she was, wouldn't that shock her. If only she knew that he had sex with as many young women as she had sex with young men, she'd probably want to divorce him in the way that he can't wait to divorce her. She wasn't the only one who knew how to play this game.

Yet, what's the difference with him paying a woman to give him sex when he pays his wife and puts up with her not giving him sex? He needed to get rid of her. Tired of giving her money and paying for her to cheat on him, she was preventing him from being happy with someone else. He needed to get rid of her. He needed to find some other woman who wants him, who appreciates, who respects him, and who will give him sex.

After divorcing Ruth, if he had to pick just one woman to marry and spend the rest of his life with, he was particularly fond of Esmeralda from El Paso, Texas. A mixed Mexican and American Indian woman who allowed him to do any sexual thing to her busty body as long as he paid her. Even after comparing her to all of those young, sexy, submissive Japanese woman who gave him incredible sex, it was Esmeralda who sexually satisfied him the most. Even more than the sex, always laughing and teasing, they had fun. More than him paying her money for sex, she obviously liked him as much as he liked her.

With sex something his wife should be doing for him with all the money he gives her, his wife should be allowing him to do any sexual thing to her that he wants to her shapely, sexy, naked body. Only, she saved her sexual favors for her young lovers and not for him. She trades sex for alcohol. With all the money he has given his wife without even having sex, he could give a small fraction of that to Esmeralda and have sex day and night. There are plenty of women, and just one, special woman, who'd be grateful to have someone like him in their life.

* * * * *

While listening to hear if they heard him, Jay undressed in the dark. After sleeping in a hotel bed for nine nights, he couldn't wait to sleep in his own bed. Then, when he finally fell back on his bed, it felt so good to sleep on his own mattress and put his head on his own pillow. Before nodding off, he sat up in bed listening to the quiet while wondering what they were doing downstairs. What was she doing to Chris that she refused to do with him? Except for the soft music that emanated from the living room, he didn't hear anything else.

As if he could hear them having sex, imagining them having sex when he couldn't hear them from where they were and from where he was in the house, he imagined Ruth fucking and sucking Chris in the way she'd never fuck and suck him. Still hurting him to think of her having sex with someone else and rejecting him, as soon as he had the thought of her fucking and sucking Chris, he purged it from his mind before getting angry all over again. She was such a dirty, drunken whore. He could only imagine how many men she had sex with while he was gone. He could only imagine how many men she had sex with in the 25 years they were married.

He didn't like having a stranger in his house while he slept and decided to do what his daughter did every night before turning out her light. Whether or not her mother was alone or with someone, she locked her bedroom door and he now did too. Should his drunken wife persuade her drunken boyfriend to murder him in his sleep for the insurance money, he'd have to breakdown his bedroom door. A light sleeper, even if Chris had the key to his bedroom, he'd hear him unlocking his door to give him enough time for him to reach for his handgun in the nightstand drawer. The best thing he ever did was to sleep in separate bedrooms to not have to smell the stench of her foul alcohol and cigarette laced breath.

Not a violent man but suddenly an angry man, he had the urge to beat her. If only fantasizing about giving her a beating, the thoughts of beating the crap out of her made him feel more like a man. The thoughts of her bruised, bloodied, and in pain made him feel more like the man of the house. If he wouldn't be arrested and have to spend a stint in jail while she continued in her drunken behavior and sexual lifestyle, he'd love to punch his wife in the face. He'd love to blacken both her eyes, loosen her teeth, break her jaw, and make her ugly enough that no one would ever want to have sex with her again, not even him, especially not him. He'd love to strangle her to death after hitting her over the head with an empty gin bottle. Every time she disrespected him, he wished he could beat her and shove her down the cellar stairs and lock the door behind her.

Even better than beating her and making her ugly, he suddenly had the urge to force himself on her. He suddenly had the urge to violently strip her naked. He suddenly had the urge not to have sex with her but to violently rape his own wife. He suddenly had the urge to fuck her, really fuck her hard without her even being wet. Then, when he was done fucking her dirty cunt, without taking the time to lubricate her, he'd turn her over and fuck her cheating ass.

"Yeah, that will teach her," he said out loud for no one to hear. "Payback is a bitch, bitch!"

He suddenly had the urge to do all of the vile, dirty, and nasty sexual things that she refused to do with him but willingly did with everyone and anyone else. Only, just as he'd never beat his wife or any woman, he'd never raped his wife or any woman. Still, a violent fantasy he enjoyed having, he relished the thought of exerting his physical payback on her, his bitch of a cheating whore, drunken wife.

"God, she's such a frigging drunken whore," he said talking to himself. "I can't believe I married her. I still can't believe she had sex with my best man, my best friend, on my wedding day."

Enjoying the violent fantasy of raping his wife, he had the same fantasy again. Forcing her to blow him, with her never blowing him and never allowing him to cum in her mouth, he imagined putting a heavy hand to the back of her head while humping her mouth and fucking her face. Forcing her to suck him, he imagined not letting go of her until he not only ejaculated every drop of his cum in her mouth but also until she swallowed ever drop of his cum. He imagined stripping her naked, mounting her, forcing himself inside of her, and pounding her pussy without even making her wet. Then, he imagined turning her over and fucking her in her ass in the way she's been allowing other men to fuck her in the ass. He imagined fucking her in the ass in the way that she's been fucking him in his ass for the last twenty-five, bloodsucking years.

"Fucking bitch! Fucking cunt," he said for no one to hear yet he felt better saying it and getting it out of his system.

Only, even though he wanted to do all of that to her and more, rape her before beating her, he'd never do any of that to her. He couldn't do that to her. He wasn't a monster in the way she was a demon, the Devil in disguise. Definitely with whatever color dress she wore, Devil in the red dress, black dress, blue dress, or green dress, she was a She-devil of a whore.

Perhaps had he not been already sexually satisfied by a dozen, young Japanese women over the last nine days, he'd be sexually frustrated enough to have his violent, sexual way with his wife. Perhaps finding Chris in his house, he would have ordered him out at gunpoint. Yet, when he had dined on young, beautiful, Japanese flesh in Japan, why have smelly fish at home by having forced sex with his wife? Why would he want an old, drunken bitch when there are plenty of other young, beautiful woman who'd be happy to take his money in exchange for sex?

"Dirty bitch! That will teach you. Fucking, drunken whore! That will fix you. You wait and see," he said for no one hear while pounding a fisted hand in the air. "Soon I'll divorce your nasty ass."

* * * * *

He had grown accustomed to her fucking and sucking every man she knew. He had grown accustomed to her fucking and sucking even men she didn't know, had just met, and brought home from the mall. He didn't even mind it when Jack, his so-called friend, had sex with his wife. He was busy having his pole waxed with other, young woman anyway to be concerned with what she did when he wasn't home. Besides, Jack was a lonely, broken man after his wife, Sheila, died and Ruth comforted him while drinking with him more than she had sex with him. She confessed that she allowed him to feel, fondle, and suck her tits while giving him a hand job for a bottle of gin and a bottle of vermouth. With Jack bald, not very good looking, and obese, he didn't think she'd do any more than that with him.

Then, she told him the truth. She confessed her outrageous extramarital affair with his friend and neighbor. She sucked Jack's cock and allowed him to cum in her mouth in the way she never sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth. She confessed that she fucked Jack and it was he who made her pregnant. Thank God, she lost the baby. That was one less complication in his way of divorcing her and ridding his life of her for good.

In the way that Chris was 22 years younger than her, Jack was eighteen years older than her. With Ruth 47-years-old and Chris 25-years-old, there was just no way that he could complete with a much younger man, not that he even wanted to compete with any man for Ruth. Only, there was a long line of others using his wife's hand, mouth, pussy, and ass while she used them to get herself drunk. With him no longer giving her the money to buy booze and with her not willing to go to Alcohol Anonymous meetings, these men all brought bottles of booze with them.

A cheap fuck and with both parties seemingly happy, she used them for booze and they used her for sex. Especially with her being the cheating wife, seemingly everyone was happy in his convoluted relationship but for him, the cuckold husband. Yet, now that he did his sexual thing with young, beautiful women all over the country and around the world, he didn't care that she did her sexual thing with men young enough to be her sons. He was glad that she was occupied with young men while he was away.

Officially and finally done with her, it was over between them. He just needed to file for a divorce to make it official. She could go fuck herself for all that he cared. One day soon, he'll be divorcing her cheating ass. One day soon, he'll find someone else to love him, respect him, and give him sex.

One day soon, someone will find her dead from alcohol poisoning or liver failure. Hopefully, she won't survive the ambulance ride to the hospital. Hopefully, she'd die drunk. She'd finally be out of his hair, a respectable divorced and widowed man, he'd be free and single again. Hopefully with her out of his mind, his heart, and his house, she'd die alone not long after he divorced her.

"Frigging cheating bitch. Cheating drunken whore. Fucking whore! I hate you. I so fucking hate you," he said pounding his fist in the air. "I hope you die. I can't wait until I divorce your cheating ass."

If he was ten years younger he'd go downstairs, beat the shit out of Chris, throw him out of his house, and kick Ruth out of his house too. Only with him 45-years-old and Chris 25-years-old, Chris would be the one giving him a beating. He'd shoot them both dead but neither one of them are worth the cost of the bullets and the price of him going to jail. So long as he didn't kill her, knowing Ruth, she'd love for him to be put behind bars while she drank her way through his lifesavings.

Instead of confronting them and making a scene that would wake up the neighbors and have them call the police, he pulled out his cock and started masturbating himself while thinking about violently raping her before beating the piss out of her. He stroked himself faster while thinking of how it was when he first met Ruth. With him a virgin, so young and so innocent, he fell in love with Ruth the first time he saw her. What did he know then? He didn't know any better. Having never met anyone like her, he thought she was good, loving, and kind. He had no idea she become a drunken whore of a bitch.

Yet, at the very least by the things she did, by the things she said, and with her denying him sex, he should have known that she didn't love him. Now that he thought about it, she never loved him. Even when they were first dating, with her never allowing him to go all the way, they never had the sexual relationship that young lovers should have had. He should have known that it was a horrible mistake marrying her. He should have dumped her ass 25-years ago. Only, with him working for a company that was as straight laced as IBM, he was worried about how divorcing her would hurt his career.