Inferidelity Ch. 03 - Family

"We're going to go on dates. And be exclusive. But you are all special to me and I want you to be part of my life. And I appreciate all the time we spent together and uhm, hope we can be friends."

She sort of half assedly looked around at everyone and gave a slight pat on the shoulder to Sai, who reached for her hand unsuccessfully before she pulled it away. Over the sound of the busy restaurant I didn't quite hear Kamal ask a question, but Nicole just went right back to Rajesh's lips.

We all sat there as a group, gawking, as they continued to ravish each other. It was now apparent even from my seated position that his fingers were jammed inside her panties, and even more apparent to the waiter standing behind me. Muhammed was the angriest of us all, his arms crossed and his eyes shooting daggers. I was seriously concerned for both of their safety, not only now but in the future. This was the stuff that murders were made of.

One by one the others began to leave in varying manners of disgust. I thought I heard a sob from Patel, with whom I had previously assumed Nicole had broken off all contact. As he walked away he patted me on the back as if to console me. Watching them all leave left me with my own loneliness. In a way I had shared an absurd level of intimacy with those men, for months on end. It was the conclusion of a meaningful relationship...for me, anyways.

When I turned from watching the others leave I saw both my wife's breasts spring forth from her sundress. In a fog I heard someone shout "Alright, that's it!" from behind me, but the stimulation was too much for me not to immerse myself in. The sunlight hit them just right and they seemed so shiny, lightly tanned, heavenly. The color of the dress brought them out into a new glory, and the arousal mixed with all my jealousy and mourning. I concentrated on my erection and her every increasing public nudity. Rajesh was peeling her dress down around her shoulders when I felt someone push me slightly.

"Hey buddy, do you know these two clowns? My manager called the cops."

I was startled and with the mention of "cops" I just sort of rose up from my seat and floundered towards the door. A look back in my wife's direction showed her arm now draped behind Rajesh's head, her breasts thrust out into full public view, with the patrons half staring and half scoffing. I put my head down and jutted to my car at the far end of the packed parking lot. When I slammed the door shut, my eye barely caught a familiar face out of the corner of my eye.

Reginald, from our church, walked by my parked car without noticing my presence. He made his way to the entrance and I felt this intense, overwhelming need to stop him from entering. He didn't make it so far as the door before he made out the scene in front of him through the main window of the establishment. And like any ordinary red-blooded man he stopped in his tracks and stared. So it finally happened: the end of polite civilization. Ever since we'd first set foot in the club I had feared the moment when we would be discovered, and now, it was at hand.

Except he didn't hurry away, didn't turn in disgust, didn't walk down the street to a new eatery. He did what I felt only I knew he would do: he joined the rest of us. Even from afar I could see his body tense up and his teeth clench as the same lovelorn jealousy mixed with an intense lust that afflicted me as well as Nicole's other simps. Sneakily he brought his phone out of his pocket and hurriedly began recording the footage, more than likely feeling he'd stumbled upon cinematic gold after lusting for my wife for years. I guess it wasn't so terrifying to say goodbye to a polite society when, after opening my eyes, I could see that it barely existed in the first place.

-

Nicole walked right in the door at 5:15pm on the button, not a hair out of place, a smile beaming from her face. She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek before giving a quick "hello." She then walked past me and got to work making dinner. Much like her miraculous appearance at the church meeting, I had no idea how she endured. The amount of suppressed emotion she felt must have felt like a geyser waiting to burst.

After dinner was complete, our child ran off to play. My wife sat drinking a glass of water, nonchalant, acting as if everything was normal. I had enjoyed our mind games thus far, but I was now truly out of band. I couldn't go on any longer neglecting to question her intent. Then again, if I ended the game, I had a genuine fear I may never see her again. For the sake of our family, I kept playing along.

"You have a new boyfriend," I said with a hint of playfulness in my voice. The saucers in her blue eyes were alive with energy as she looked up from her glass.

"It was just a date," she said. Of course I wanted to get up and scream "just a date?!" while I broke every dish in the kitchen (and perhaps tossed her a bit too, if I am being honest), but, like a cucumber, I stayed cool.

"Congratulations," I said with a coy sincerity. Now she looked to be the one holding back anger. She really wanted to break me.

After some time, I asked: "Did he ask you out again?"

She nodded, keeping her gaze on the dinner table.

"Well, you might have to put out if you want him to stay with you," I said, playing along with her school-esque terminology on "dating" and "exclusivity."

Nicole rolled her eyes, "Everybody knows you don't put out until the third date."

I nodded, "That's true. You wouldn't want to get a reputation."

I saw the fire well up from her eyes at my insinuation, but she crammed it back down.

"It's a private discussion in a relationship."

I imagine my face contorted a bit while I nodded along. "What else is private? If you use condoms?"

A sly smile showed itself as she nodded her head.

"How about having a child, is that a private decision?"

Red flushed across her cheeks a bit as she took a beat.

"It was just a lunch date," she said quietly, "We'll see where things go."

She gathered her dishes, put them in the sink, and left the room.

-

I went through life like a sucker, thinking the proverbial "second date" would never come. A few days after her utterly unhinged behavior at the brunch, I was scrolling through my phone as Nicole slept next to me. Sai texted me. His first text simply read: "I don't care anymore."

On the surface it was ridiculous for me to comfort the meek little man, but we'd grown close over time. I offered him my apologies that Nicole had torn away contact so harshly. He countered with something unexpected: a long link to a website.

"This is my server. You are my friend and I do not care anymore. I hacked his shit."

I tapped the link and saw it was a list of about a dozen videos. "What is this?" I replied.

"There is another chat and we take videos. And he is dummy and sets bad passcode on phone," he continued in garbled English, "Some of these from today morning. This is not everything but it's what you would want to see. Because, I know you."

With tact I positioned my phone to ensure Nicole couldn't see the screen, just in case she woke up. I tapped the first video, and it was Rajesh and Nicole in the club, sitting alone. It was clear Sai was shooting from behind a curtain or secretly wedged his phone in a discreet place. It was my wife discussing, at length with Rajesh, how inconceivably expensive in vitro had been, and how angry she was when it didn't work. He stroked her hair and told her he couldn't imagine how bad we must feel after struggling to get pregnant for so long. It was a ramble I had heard my wife give before, so I fast forwarded a bit. The discussion pivoted toward Rajesh suggesting she invite me to the club. A dancer interrupted them and sat in Rajesh's lap. Nicole scooted aside and looked visibly perturbed. The video ended.

Sai probably thought he had a real shocker on his hands: my wife might be trying to have another man's baby! He was a young man and he didn't know our story as a couple. This was probably the most ho-hum of his revelations. Her peaceful, sleeping face was looking toward me behind my phone as I tapped the second video. I immediately knew where it was.

"Omg, is that your phone!" Nicole exclaimed. She was putting her bathing suit back on at the pool party. It was clearly Patel recording her with the room fully lit, meaning I had left them alone some time before. When her top was back on she walked towards the phone, smiling. Patel held out a double shot of some hard liquor.

"Fuck, no, can't drink another one, I have to go. Stop! He's waiting for me."

Patel playfully moved the glass to her lips while giggling and she happily guzzled the booze. She threw her head back to laugh and Patel deftly ripped off her bottoms. His camera pivoted up to catch her terrified reaction as her hands moved to cover her exposed pussy.

"Stop!" she exclaimed as Patel quickly laid down his phone. It landed upright, providing a wayward but still commendable angle on the action at hand. I was greeted by Patel's portly body, pantless, his cock erect. It was an ugly, janky motion when Patel lifted her up by her hips and threw her against a dresser. I didn't see her push back or react, but rather she looked to be obliterated from the booze.

He crammed right into her and started humping at an awkward but steady pace. Nicole reacted with a deep, apparent relief and threw her arms around his shoulders. With a flick he ripped off her top, again, and his thrusts started to cause the furniture to bang against the wall in tune with my wife's otherworldly breasts. Nicole started to give a guttural moan, one she fired off before cumming, and for such an abhorrent, portly man, you would think she was being fucked by an all-star athlete. It wasn't a hallmark of endurance, but Patel got her over the hump just before he buried himself to the hilt and finished in her. Nicole inhaled and exhaled with drunken fervor, eyes closed, rubbing her hands up and down his chest.

"I love you," she muttered, intoxicated, "I love you I love you I love you."

Patel sort of awkwardly patted her hair and looked concerned for her.

"This came from counseling, this was a counseling...thing...you don't know how much it fuckin sucks to be married, it really fuckin sucks, its so fucking boring. John had this fantasy with you..."

Patel just sat silent and listened.

"He's not gay or nothin, it was just...I'm so happy you did this. I don't care I just fuckin love you right now."

He finally laughed a little, "We just met, we say things for play, yes?"

She looked to be on the verge of crying as she shook her head, indicating her seriousness "It's so fuckin bad, so boring. Can you kiss me?"

They locked lips and I soon realized a great deal of time was left on the video. I didn't recall my walk to the car from the guest room taking me such a long time, but then again, I was in a blur. I stopped to say goodbye to some people, I jerked off, I may have shut my eyes. It was apparently a massive hole in my memory...

I put my finger on my phone and scrubbed the video, glancing at my angelic sleeping wife as I watched her pour her marital strife into another man through wanton kissing and fondling. For a time Patel did a good number on her tits and she seemed to almost pass out just before he rose and put himself back inside her. Another thudding session and she found her last vestige of energy and cried out with another sloppy, drunk orgasm. Patel seemed to be keying himself up to pull out when she wrapped her legs around him. He finished and he held himself inside as they kissed some more.

When he pulled away she was crying. "This isn't right, but I needed this so bad," He started stroking her face and she looked up at him. It must have triggered a guilt reflex as she very aggressively pushed him away, grabbed her suit, and ran out into the hall without a word. A few minutes later she was entering our car and we were making love...and I was none the wiser.

I looked at Nicole for a moment and digested what I had just seen. First, this wasn't where the lying began, but it was where the obfuscation of the truth certainly did. She effusively said tender, tragically loving things to him. By the end of their tryst he'd come inside her twice, despite her clear panic about "baby" spray minutes earlier. She started the night as a playful wife having some PG-13 fun to a disheveled drunken mess that seemed determined to have a strange man's baby. How did I feel about it? Given our toxic lust spiral, it felt so weird to have the start of the narrative shift under foot. I was now calculating her actions at multiple turns and trying to understand the woman I married.

I tapped the phone to open the next video. It was short, but showed my wife in a spaghetti strap top, leaning against a bar with an untouched drink in front of her. Patel could be heard giggling, along with some other voices, one of whom I recognized as Kamal. I couldn't figure out why Sai had included this video until I realized the bar was named Carter's and the timestamp was some time after our tryst with Patel. Carter's was right next door to the big box store where I'd arranged our second encounter. Nicole wasn't out cruising for a random man, or looking for Patel. She was out searching, desperately, for the second suitor from the store...taking the longshot that he'd occasion the place.

I flicked away that video and it cut to the next one. Nicole was in the same spaghetti strap outfit but was now walking towards a large booth, smiling shyly. She said hello to the cameraman, who sounded like Patel, and the video abruptly stopped. I tapped to open the next video and it began with Nicole, hours later, sitting between Patel and Rajesh, her hand on Rajesh's thigh and with Patel's arm around her, his hand resting on her shoulder. Muhammed must have been the cameraman and he was asking her a lot of mundane questions about dancing, how many drinks she'd had, if she had a safe ride home. There was a general mood of silliness and all the telltale signs of her gravitating towards Rajesh as she spoke to each man as the night wore on.

This rather boring exchange happened for some time, when with a quiet motion, Rajesh rested his hand at the bottom of her tank top, just above her jeans. His hand just rested there for some time until it seemed to be familiar, upon which Nicole moved her hand from his thigh to land on top of his. They remained touching hands for several seconds before the video ended.

I flicked to the next video and the phone was apparently recording Nicole in secret. She appeared to be in a dark corner of the bar, sitting alone, speaking to Rajesh. The phone, which seemed to be propped against an adjacent seat, captured her face along with Rajesh's body as Rajesh was prodding her with "truth or dare?" as a question. It was the same setup as we'd done in the club. Nicole answered "truth" and he asked if Patel really did cum inside of her at the party. She feigned embarrassment, and told him he couldn't ask her something so personal. He prodded her and said she had to answer, to which she said she'd take a dare instead.

Rajesh dared her to hold his hand while he masturbated through an entire song. Nicole shook her head halfheartedly, declaring that she was married and that it would be cheating. Rajesh reminded her that she'd just finished telling him how mad she was that I'd forced her to have sex with the man in the store, and that it wasn't cheating, since it wasn't an affair of the heart, just a silly game. She looked around trepidatiously, saying it was wrong, but then suddenly noticed that Rajesh had already taken out his member.

She laughed coyly, trying to lift the mood, before making him promise to never tell anyone. He reassured her everyone was gone, and that no one was watching, and that it was too dark to see anything. She made him promise he would answer all her "truth" questions for the entire song, to which he agreed. Without breaking eye contact, she reached over and took his hand when the next song started.

Her mood immediately elevated and she started to ask him about his previous girlfriends. They talked about the last time he'd had sex, to which Rajesh confessed he'd been with a woman that very afternoon. Rajesh confessed what they were doing was a fun parlor trick he did with strippers. She asked him if she was "just like" his strippers, to which he passionately said no. Rajesh asked her if he had a nice penis, and she blushed, nodding. He continued to prod and asked if it was bigger than Patel's, to which she wholeheartedly agreed. Rajesh then asked if it was bigger than her husband's, to which she seemed to flinch a bit with a mix of guilt and compassion. She replied that information was "private" and that it wasn't "right" to talk about her marriage.

He assured her that she was so beautiful, if he was adrift in the frozen ocean, he'd swim until he lost consciousness just to see her again. Nicole, in her drunken haze, really seemed to take to this line. Rajesh told her he wanted her to marry him. My wife said that she didn't trust him, and that he probably knocks up a new stripper every week. Rajesh said it had happened before, and each time it was a terrible tragedy. Nicole's expression became sour and she asked what happened. Rajesh took her on a sympathy walk through each of pregnancies he'd apparently made "by accident" in various girlfriends and strippers. There was always protection involved, but accidents "happened." He pulled out his arm to show five tattoos, each a dot representing the tragic occasion. Nicole seemed to be touched by this, and apologized to him for having to "go through that." He thanked her for her sympathy.

She turned the conversation back to something more playful, saying she still thought he was a "player" with no self control, and that she didn't trust him. Rajesh assured her he had self control, and told her to "watch this." His hand reached out to stroke her hair, and after a moment she looked down and exclaimed in surprise. She started to laugh and held up her hand, with a wad of cum now hanging off it. In a hurry she wiped it off on a dirty napkin and asked him if he even made it through the entire song, to which Rajesh noted they had held hands for six songs, but he could cum whenever he desired. Nicole congratulated him on his "talent" and laughed.

Rajesh asked to kiss her goodnight, to which she flatly said no, and that they'd never see each other in public again since it was way too scandalous. He invited her to come hang out at the club, with the group, during the day, and assured her there would be no "funny business." She said she'd think about it, and Rajesh once again asked to kiss her. She refused, saying kissing on the lips is "definitely cheating." Rajesh nodded and said he'd show her some self control.

He leaned in and began to kiss her neck, with his hand returning to the spot just beneath her tank top and above her pussy. His lips lined up and down her neck and cheek as her eyes closed and he massaged her through her jeans. His other hand sneakily pulled down both of her spaghetti straps, resulting in her chest holding up the top. He eventually stopped and she turned her head. Rajesh told her it was just a polite "kiss on the cheek" goodnight, with their lips intensely close to one another. It was clear to me that Nicole wanted him to go further, but instead he backed away. He wished her good night and deftly grabbed his phone from the hidden position, ending the video.

I looked away from the phone and at my sleeping wife. While you might think I would be angry from all the half-truths and lies I was uncovering, I was actually relieved. Our whole adventure was, indeed, a manifestation of my wife's deep unhappiness and not entirely my own perverted fantasy. On some subconscious level I'd absorbed it and projected it on to a vision of her being sexual with a deeply inadequate man. At some time in the distant past I must have known, on some level, she would be overjoyed at any deviation from the mundane, high-stress life she forced upon herself. My guilt for having shared her with these men was assuaged a bit.