God's Eye View

"Thank you, Mandy," I said, and hung up.

"Well what did she say?" Angela asked.

"Hang on just a second," I said.

I brought up the find my phone app. Britt and I each had it, because Britt was always losing hers. I kept offering to get her one of those phone cases that clipped in place on your belt, or the waistband of your trousers, but she kept waving it off...

The app took only seconds to show me the locator icon: she was at our house! Well, to be more precise, her phone was at our house. That didn't necessarily mean that Britt was. Still, she'd had her phone in her hand when she left the house this morning, so I know it wasn't a case of her leaving without it!

I put away my phone, looked at Angela, and told her what I'd been told, as well as what I had just discovered. I watched as her expression hardened with anger. Before I knew it, she was up out of her seat, heading back out of the back office area towards the front. I was actually hard pressed to keep up with her.

"Chris," she said, "I'm going to lunch. If Mr. Klaussen should happen to arrive back here before I do, call me immediately. Clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" said the startled worker.

Angela looked over at me as we entered the elevator, her eyes smoldering with anger.

"With the mood I'm in, I think you'd better drive!" she said, savagely mashing the button for the ground floor. "There'd better be a DAMN good explanation for that photo. I've already let him off the hook once!"

"He's cheated on you before?" I asked, startled. Then I realized that wasn't something you should ask someone you just met! "I'm sorry, that wasn't-"

"Don't worry about it," she said, with a half-smile. "And the answer is yes, he's done it before, back in Colorado. In fact, part of the reason we moved here to Indiana was to get a fresh start. I forgave the bastard because of little Robby."

Her eyes softened and lost their edge when she mentioned her son. Then they lost their softness again.

"But Robby isn't so little anymore, and I'm not in a forgiving mood this morning!"

###

The first few minutes of the car ride were silent. At last, though, Angela's curiousity (or her need to talk through her pain) got the better of her.

"I'm a little surprised your wife would be bold enough to take my husband to your home," she said.

"It's a risk," I said, "But that risk is minimal. She knows that at this time of year, I tend not to leave the office, because of all the stuff I have to get done. I'm a creature of habit, just like most people are, and she knows me pretty well. Hell, even if I did step out, I'd call her and let her know, giving her more than enough time to get her lover out of the house."

My voice was loaded with bitterness and I knew it. I gave Angela an apologetic look, so she'd know I didn't blame her.

"I'm so damned trusting and predictable, she could have been fucking around behind my back for years, and I'd never have known!"

Angela was quiet for a moment as I drove as fast as I could toward my house. When she spoke, I could once again hear the sympathy in her voice.

"There are almost always signs when a spouse is cheating," she said, quietly.

"Yeah, I know there are," I replied. "I haven't seen any, though! Our, uh, intimate life, hasn't dropped off suddenly, or anything. She hasn't been acting any differently toward me or the kids. At least, not that I can tell. She doesn't have any nights out with the girls..."

"There weren't any of the classic signs with Ben, either," she replied. "Not before, and not recently. I just mentioned it because, well..."

Her voice trailed off into silence as she stared out the windshield. I shrugged, helplessly, still focused on the traffic around me. As I turned on to my street, I noticed that red car in the driveway. I was so focused on that discovery that Angela's voice startled me for a moment.

"That's Ben's car," she said.

There was still a lot of anger in her tone, but there was also an undeniable note of sadness mixed in, too. Well, that was understandable. If I found what I expected to find in my house, it would end my marriage, and I suspect it would do the same to Angela's. I parked the car in the street in front of my neighbor's house. I glanced at Angela, then I got out and headed towards the gate to my backyard.

Angela followed me without a word, though I did notice she took a rather expensive-looking digital camera out of her purse. I had an even nicer one on my desk in the office, but naturally I hadn't even thought about grabbing it. Damn it!

I quietly opened the gate, and we padded softly into the back yard. In moments, we were at the back door. I unlocked it and let us both into the house, closing it quietly behind us. I paused there, listening carefully. I could hear my wife's voice, and there was no question what she was doing. Her moans and soft cries of pleasure were unmistakeable. I won't lie; beneath the shell of my rage, I felt my heart break as I identified the sound of Brittany's voice.

I gestured wordlessly for Angela to follow me. The look on her face was a little odd, but I was no longer paying her that much attention. I was too focused on Britt's voice. I moved quietly through the kitchen towards the sound of her voice. It sounded like it was coming from the living room.

Sure enough, as I carefully peered out from around the archway that led from the kitchen to the living room, there she was. Brittany. Laying on the couch, with her legs spread wide, moaning like a whore. Between her thighs, a lovely young blonde woman was going to town, eagerly licking and sucking my wife's pussy. Wait a second, what? A woman? Confused, I stopped cold and took a moment to look around the room again.

Then I saw Benny-boy at last. He was standing against the opposite wall, filming the action on his tablet with one hand while he jerked himself off with the other. Beside me, I felt more than saw Angela taking video with her camera. That broke the hold that shock had had over me. I moved into the room, rage starting to take over. I tried to keep a firm hold over my anger (I've seen too many examples of what happens when people lose control), but I could feel myself losing that battle. Rapidly!

Angela's hand shot out like a striking snake and grabbed my arm. I rounded on her, angry at the interference, but she shook her head and tried to tug me back. Well, I thought to myself, the damage to my marriage is already done and recorded. I guess I can wait another second or two before I start breaking things.

I reluctantly stepped back and watched, sick to my stomach at what was happening. After a few more moments of watching the unknown blonde devour my wife, Benny-boy got in on the action. He dropped his trousers and shorts, stepping out of them and leaving them where they fell. He hurriedly moved behind the blonde woman and slid into her from behind. In seconds he was thrusting himself rapidly into her, slamming her face into Britt's snatch as he did.

My rage was already near the boiling point, but when that motherfucker pulled out of the blonde woman, pushed her to one side, and slid his cock deep into Brittany, I snapped. Angela didn't have the least prayer of holding me back. Ben Klaussen was 6'2" or better (it was tough to tell when he was on his knees on my couch, plowing into my wife), and he weighed at least a solid 190 pounds. He was in decent shape, but he couldn't match me for sheer size and strength.

Something, maybe a creaking floor beam, or maybe just a sixth sense, warned the unknown woman of my approach. She turned away from the scene on the couch to face me, and her eyes flew open wide in shock. She didn't make a sound, but by then it wouldn't have made any difference if she had. I was far too close for anyone to run away, or try to fight.

I brushed past her without delivering the backhanded blow I wanted to give her. She'd get her just due for fucking with a married woman (I believe in gender equality!), but I wanted a piece of Benny-boy first! I reached in and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him straight back off of the couch, spilling him messily onto the floor. His cock, I noted absently, wasn't any bigger than mine. Maybe I'm predjudiced, but it didn't look quite as big, for that matter, so Britt couldn't have been looking for a bigger dick.

"AAAHHH!" he screamed in pain, trying to break my iron grip.

"AAAHHH!" Brittany screamed, startled, her eyes snapping open at last.

"AAAHHH!" screamed the unknown woman, wide-eyed with fear.

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!" I roared, knocking Benny-boy's head against the edge of the couch for emphasis. The cushions made the blow more of an insult than an injury, but they did get me the desired effect.

The unknown woman gathered herself like she was going to jump and run. Without letting go of Benny-boy's hair, I pinned her with my eyes. I can only imagine what my facial expression must have looked like as I snarled at her like a rabid dog.

"Don't even think about leaving, you fucking whore! If you take off before I say you can leave, I'll break you in half for touching my wife!"

I rounded on Ben just as he finally figured out how to break my hold. Instead of trying to pull away from me (which is the natural instinct, after all) he pushed his head towards my fist, which allowed him to get to his feet. He slammed an admirably beefy fist into my belly. The pain only served to make me more angry, though. I replied by bringing my heavy, steel-toed work boot down on his sock-covered foot. Judging from the way he screamed, I must have broken something.

He dropped back down to his knees and stayed there. I took just a moment to catch my breath (the bastard had tagged me good, I admit it). I looked over at the other woman and realized that I did, in fact, know who she was. I'd just never seen her naked before. She was Jamie Keller, and she lived with her parents in the last house on our block. She was 19 years old, and was going to school to be a nurse, or something in healthcare, I thought. Brittany and I had paid her to babysit for us on the rare nights when my parents or hers weren't able to do it.

"Jamie?" I said, scarcely able to believe my eyes.

The girl nodded her head, miserably, trying to cover her nudity with her arms.

"What the...why are you..." my words failed me.

"I'm sorry," she said, very quietly.

"How long have you been fucking my wife?" I snarled.

"This is only the second time, I swear! I-"

"There never should've been a FIRST time, you fucking slut!" I said, still furious. To me, cheating is cheating! It doesn't make any difference whether Brittany was having sex with another man, or another woman: if she was having sex with ANYONE other than me, that's cheating!

I reached down and picked up the tablet that had fallen out of Ben's hand when I'd interrupted his interlude with Brittany and Jamie. I held it up and made sure she saw it.

"I have you doing some very nasty stuff on video. Get the hell out of my house, and NEVER come back! If I find out you've had contact with my wife ever again -- and I don't care if you just bump into her at the mall! - I will post this to every single porn site the internet has! I'll send the links to your parents, and grandparents, and anyone else I can think of! I'll Tweet it to the world! I will do everything I possibly can to ruin your reputation so completely, you won't be able to get a job pumping port-a-potties! Do you understand me?"

She looked at me in horrified shock as I shook Ben's tablet at her.

"Yes!" she said, her voice a scared little whisper. "I understand!"

"Good!" I snapped. "I'm finished with you. Get out of here, you filthy whore!"

She gathered her clothes and moved to get dressed, only to stop when I snapped at her again.

"Oh no you don't!" I said, angrily. "Walk out the front door just the way you are! Stark naked, like a dirty slut! When you are fully outside, you can dress, but not until I see you do the slut walk! GET MOVING!"

I held up the tablet (which was still recording) and recorded her gathering her things and doing as I demanded. She walked awkwardly to the front door and let herself out. She made her way as fast as she could to the front yard. I recorded her through the big picture windows as she rapidly dressed, then took off for her parents' house at a dead run. Fortunately for her, just about everyone in this neighborhood was at work. It was highly unlikely anyone saw her.

Ben gave a pained whimper, and I returned my attention to him. He was still laying in a pile at the foot of the couch, and I noticed that his left foot was already starting to swell. It looked like it hurt, poor thing! He glared pure hatred at me, but he'd already seen his wife standing in the archway, filming the festivities. He must have realized by now that he was toast, so he decided to sit still for now. That showed more sense than I'd have given him credit for.

"So, Benji," I said, my tone full of fake warmth. "I haven't seen you since college, buddy! How're things going?"

I nudged the little shit with one steel-toed boot, and he winced.

"No don't, he's hurt, Don!" came Angela's voice.

"Yes he is!" I replied. "So what?"

Angela made an exasperated sound, and stepped fully into the living room, making her way to the couch. She spared a gaze of loathing contempt for my wife, before handing me her camera and kneeling at her husband's side.

"His foot is definitely broken," she said, surveying the damage. "You don't need an x-ray to see that! Damn, Don! He could throw a blood clot! You might've killed him!"

She looked back up at me, a little frightened.

"If I had wanted to kill him, I would have done it," I said.

"However, I have no desire whatsoever to kill him. Or Jamie. Or Brittany, for that matter. If I kill them, I go to prison and I'll never see my kids again. I'm not so far gone that I don't realize that. But there's also this: you can only kill someone one time. After that, you can't make them suffer anymore. I certainly wouldn't want that!"

I let my eyes wander over Ben, and then Brittany. Oh yes, I wanted them both to suffer. I was hurting badly, after all. I felt like someone had ripped my heart right out of my chest! I wanted both of them to really feel pain. I'm pretty sure good 'ole Ben was gonna be feeling the pain -- well, he already had a decent down payment on the pain he'd earned, but I didn't feel like our business was resolved just yet!

But, it takes two to tango, as they say. Well apparently, in this case, it had taken THREE to tango, but who's counting, right? The point is, Brittany sure wasn't getting raped! She was a freely-consenting partner in all of this, and I was going to make sure the little harlot got her share of suffering too!

I pulled my cell phone out of my vest pocket and hit a number on the speed dial, making sure I was on speaker phone. It only rang three times before someone picked up.

"Hi, George!" I said, as I recognized my father-in-law's voice.

Brittany squeezed her eyes closed as she, too, recognized his voice. When they opened again, she stared at me, silently pleading with me not to do what she must have known I was about to do. Her silent pleas were pointless, though. There was no way in hell I was going to let what she'd done go by without inflicting the maximum amount of damage I could on her life. Why should I be the only one hurting?

"Don!" he replied, with genuine pleasure. "Nice to hear from you. What's up?"

"Well, George, I'm sorry to bug you, but something serious has come up. Is there any way that you and Virginia could stop by the house? The sooner, the better?"

"What's happened?" he asked, urgently. "Are the kids okay?"

"The kids are just fine, George, they're still at school," I said, soothingly. "I'm afraid that this is something to do with Brittany and I. I know that if I were to start telling you about it over the phone, you probably wouldn't believe me. Rather than go through all of that, I'd just as soon show you incontrovertable proof of what I'm going to tell you."

My father-in-law was very, very quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, I could tell he had guessed something about what was going on. That was no real surprise. I'd respected him since our first meeting, and I knew he was an intelligent man. There were only so many reasons for me to make a call like this. If it didn't involve his grandkids, and it was about Brittany and I, well...

"We'll be there in 15 minutes or less, Don," he said, in a sad tone. "I have to ask you to please not do anything, uh, without thinking, before we get there."

"Don't worry," I told him. "I'll think very carefully indeed about everything I'm going to do!"

I ended the call, and then called my own parents. After a remarkably similar conversation, I put my phone away. Brittany sobbed uncontrollably, huddled at one end of the couch. She'd tried to get dressed, or at least cover herself with a throw, but I'd stopped her with just a look. She knew what I wanted. Brittany was going to have to do a slut walk of her own!

Angela wasn't eager to cooperate with my theatrics, though.

"He needs a hospital, Don," she said, calmly, but firmly. "I know you want to completely destroy your wife. I don't blame you at all, but there are limits to how far I'm willing to go along."

"Alright," I said. "But how about this: instead of taking him to the ER, how about you call an ambulance?"

She looked at me, evaluating me coolly. I saw in her eyes, the moment she figured out why I made that suggestion. It would take an ambulance about 10 to 15 minutes to get here. When they arrived, they'd take a few minutes to assess the patient, before packing him off to the hospital. In other words, by suggesting an ambulance, I was trying to get her to delay her departure without denying her request to get the asshole some treatment for his little broken tootsie.

Her look told me she admired my creativity, but not my mean streak. Nevertheless, she sighed and nodded her head in concession.

"Never mind the flashing lights, Don," she said. "A few more minutes won't make that much difference, anyway. But as soon as your revenge fantasy is played out, I have to take him to the ER. Do you get me?"

"I get you," I replied.

"You can hang on to the tablet and the camera until you have all the data you need off of them. Afterwards, return the camera. I'll need it for my own divorce. I don't really care what you do with his tablet."

"Thank you, Angela," I said.

She nodded, and took out her own cell phone, calling the real estate office and telling whoever answered that she'd had an emergency and to go ahead and close up for the day. Mr. Klaussen was headed for the ER. As I listened, I couldn't help wondering why she was still here with this piece of shit loser. He'd already betrayed her once. She'd already said she was going to divorce him. Why stay? Hell, if I were in her position, I'd throw him away faster than I'd toss a live grenade!

My parents arrived first. They lived closer, so that was no surprise. I opened the door and let them in. My Mom saw Brittany -- and Benny-boy -- first, and stopped dead in her tracks. Dad saw them just a few seconds after she did, and he too stared in shock and confusion.

"Donnie, honey, what on earth is going on?" my Mom demanded.

My father said nothing out loud, but his look spoke volumes. His face went from a naked, sobbing Brittany, to an angry Angela, to a hurting and half-naked Benjamin, and then finally to me. I could see from his face that he required no explanation.

He laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, even as my Mom sputtered, red-faced at her daughter-in-law's nudity in front of her, and two strangers.

"Donnie!" she demanded again. "What on earth is happening here?"