Daydream Believer: Discovery

My mind was a jumble. What was I going to do? I looked at my hand. It was shaking. I couldn't get the image of my wife, Jeanne, the woman who bore me three beautiful children humping - no FUCKING my best friend! How long had this been going on? Anger began to rise in me. No one wants to be made a fool of, especially in his own home.

I pushed away from the counter and headed back up the stairs. But my determination wavered as I approached the open doorway. I could hear voices. I guess sated it was now time for the post-coital chat. I drew up to the door but something made me stop and listen to their chatter.

"You are so lovely, Jeanne. I wish I had found you before Mac did" Even the sound of Steve's voice grated on my nerves, especially when it was followed by the tinkling laugh of my wife's genuine amusement.

"Why, so it could be Mac lying here now?"

"Baby, why do you say that?" he complained.

"Because you know Mac is the only man I ever loved. If I had married you, I would have to have him here. He would still be the man I love and you would still be my fuck buddy. Nothing would be different," she explained.

I was the only man she ever loved? And she is fucking my best friend, excuse me, former best friend?

Steve said. "Then what am I doing here, Jeanne?" The $64,000 question! "You know it would change everything if he knew I was here, Jeanne. It would kill him and he would divorce you in a New York minute."

Now he gets concerned?! I had to sneak a peek around the corner. I peered around and saw them lying on their backs side by side looking at some spot on the ceiling just as Jeanne and I had done so often.

"This is why he is never going to find out. You are here only because I want you to be, Steve." She turned over on her side forcing me to step back so as I wouldn't be discovered. I admit I felt dirty. I felt like a voyeur in my own home; a Peeping Tom sniffing out others peoples secrets just outside my bedroom door. I didn't like the sensation.

"Steve, you know I don't love you, don't you? You know that Mac is the only man I have really wanted in my life since the day he and I met. You know that, right?" she asked, her finger tracing a circle over his chest.

"Then why am I here? What about Zachary?"

Zachary? What did he have to do with this?

It was the one of the very few times I saw Jeanne visibly shaken. She rose up and looked intently at her lover. "Steve, don't ever say that again. Don't ever even think about it. Zachary was an accident. He's my baby boy but an unplanned accident nonetheless. We were unlucky that time, but he is Mac's son. You have to accept it."

How cruel was this woman? Did I even know her at all? Our son was an accident?

The next sentence out of Steve's mouth cut me to the quick. "But Zachary is my son, Jeanne. Mine. Fathered by me with a woman I care very much about. Hell, just look at him!"

"He is yours biologically, Steve. I thank God everyday Mac hasn't looked that closely. But Mac is the only father he has. You only donated the sperm. Now be a good friend. I need to get showered and dressed before Mac gets home. Let's go."

I started to move back but stopped when I heard Steve say no and the bed shutter. Again I peered around the corner but this time not really caring if the saw me or not. I needed have worried. They were oblivious to everything except their own need.

Steve moved down and settled himself between my wife's legs. His hands were stroking the outside fullness of her thighs as he leaned forward. I could see his face just inches from the muskiness of my wife's freshly fucked pussy. He seemed to part her labia and began to lick her wet pussy. There was a brief rustle and she hissed, "Ummmmmm that feels good..." Her voice was low and husky.

I heard Steve's murmured voice. "Care for another donation?"

I wanted stay right were I was and see how long it would be before they noticed me. I wanted to shoot them both. I wanted to flee from the room and the house, grab my children and head for some place, I didn't care where. In brief, I was conflicted, torn and pretty much fucked up. I wanted to DO something, anything. But what would I do? What could I do? Bile worked its way up my throat and for a moment I was sure I was about to vomit. Instead, another loud groan made me look again at the withering bodies on my bed. .

Jeanne was lying on her back, her head away from me, her legs wrapped around Steve's back. Steve was busy positioning himself just over her and I was able to move around just as he pushed his cock deep into her open gash.

"Unnnnnn, that's the spot, baby." she groaned and lifted her hips up to meet him.

"Stevie knows what his Jeanne needs." he hissed.

"Uhhhh, shut up and fuck me!" Jeanne responded.

I watched dumbfounded as he began a steady pumping with his hips. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind! There, not eleven feet away from where I stood was my best friend and my wife beginning a slow steady fuck at a pace which would eventually bring both to a satisfying climax. Some men would have been popping wood. Some might have joined in, or began stroking their own swelling cock. Some might have begun shooting of a different sort. Me? I just wanted to throw up. I had serious doubts as to whether my cock would ever harden again. I wanted to run out of the house and never return. I wanted to turn away and pretend that I and never seen the sights before me. I wanted life to give me a do-over.

"Fuck me, Steve!" Jeanne screamed. "AHHHHH! Fuck! Give it too me good. Get in there, baby!" Her hips were rotating and rising to meet his thrusts. Steve had been holding himself up with his hands. Now he let go and his body molded to hers. His mouth neared here and their tongues came out and begin fencing together. It was obscene.

Jeanne wrapped her arms across his back and bit into his neck. Her hips were moving quicker as her orgasm approached. Her head dropped back.

"AHHHHH! Ummmmm, Shhhiiiiittt." She jerked her head back up and bit into his shoulder.

Steve's pace quickened. He began pumping harder. Suddenly he stopped and pulled out leaving only the tip buried in her honey. The light shimmered on the shaft giving it a slimy waxen sheen.

My eyes looked down and saw the instrument of my divine wrath. There, propped against the wall right where I had placed it the previous night, was the cricket bat a scat arms length away. Slowly, but with purpose I reached out to grasp it. Gently, silently I took it and brought it into position.

My hands knotted up, tightening their grip on the bat in my hands. Everything about this felt right. My feet shifted and I dug in, elbows high and wide. My eyes stayed glued to the pale target. My hips dipped and the bat began to come away from its rest. I knew that it would connect perfectly. The air parted as the bat sought its target.

CRACK!!

The connection was solid as my hips pivoted adding to the power of my shoulders and strength of the weapon I held. My legs crossed and I watched the flat end of the bat smack solidly against the pale pounding target.

A cricketer would have been impressed with my delivery. The bat bounced back in my hand as the force of the blow launched Steve even further into my loving wife. For a moment all was quiet. Steve lay quiet. My wife groaned with a look of painful surprise. Finally the neurons made their way up to Steve's made and he arched up and screamed. The force of his movement shoved his still buried cock further inside Jeanne, whose nerve endings were just beginning to register again.

Suddenly and with force, Steve bellowed and rolled off my wife.

"AGHHHHRRRGGGG". His hands reached around searching for the remains of his once tight white ass. His rolled around on the floor.

My wife, on the other hand, whose vagina had just had a double assault, groaned aloud and crossed her eyes as she drew up into a fetal position and covered her bruised cervix with her hands; I watched with detached amazement as her eyes crossed again and rolled back in her head. I didn't know people really did that. She had certainly never done that for me, at least, not that I knew about.

Steve on the other hand had quit his groaning and was rolling on the floor withering in agony. He didn't know whether to rub his ass, protect his cock or just give up the ghost. I casually set the cricket bat back where I had found it. "Best gift you ever gave me, Steve."

"Ohhhh, fuck. Ah, you fucking asshole! Shit, you broke something!" Steve wailed. My wife was blessedly quiet.

I crossed my arms and looked down at his pathetic form on the ground. "Yeah, seems so, Buttwipe", I acknowledged, "but that makes us even."

I walked to the phone next to the bed and dialed 911. I told them who I was and that we needed paramedics and police and then gave my address. I assured the operator that I would wait right where I was. Over her protests I hung up. With a last glance at the pair still in agony I strolled into the living room to await my expected guests.

What happens next? Read Daydream Believer: Consequences coming soon to a Literotica near you.