Laura's Indiscretion

Laura was sick of her husband Bryson who was always agitated about something.

If she didn't season the meat right at dinner, he would turn red and get agitated, telling her that because she didn't work, she should pay more attention to his food. If his socks were not lined up perfectly, he acted as though she had lit the closet on fire and everything had been ruined. He could be sweet too, but when he got stressed, everything bothered him and he took it out on her.

Then in November after the glove incident, she'd had enough. The weather had just turned cold and he couldn't find them. A pair he hadn't worn in five years no less and he flipped out, screaming and straining his neck at her because she didn't know exactly where they were. Rolling her eyes at his temper tantrum, she ransacked the house to find them, then a half hour after his initial bellowing scream, she found them in a box of seasonal items.

Evidently, the fact that she couldn't say "it's upstairs on the right side of the closet in a box marked "winter clothing" pissed him off. Or maybe it was because she couldn't snap her fingers and have them appear in her hands?

It upset him so much that when she held them out for him to take, he grabbed them from her, rolled HIS eyes and stormed off.

After that, something snapped in her. Everyone gets upset about little things every now and then, but eruptions of anger were becoming more and more frequent, and the littlest of things set him off. Anything that went wrong, even the slightest thing was her fault because she didn't work, and according to him all she did was vacation, keep her spa appointments, and go shopping.

To make things worse, when she was having a crisis, he didn't care. Like when one of her friends in her lunch group didn't invite her to Vegas with a few other girls and she found out about it, she had been devastated. Her feelings had been genuinely hurt, but he hadn't cared. Instead according to him she was a lazy woman who never did anything and let stupid things bother her. He was tired of being the only money maker, but Laura didn't really understand. He would have loads of money waiting for him when his parents died and his salary was well into the six figures. What would her having a job making, say, 40 grand a year really contribute?

"Why don't you run a charity? There is so much good you could be doing." he would lament, but he really didn't understand how much work it took to run a household. She had to let in and pay the housekeepers that came twice a week, the yard man who came once a month, get the kids to school, cook dinner (or order it) every night and do the laundry. Plus she had to keep herself looking good and that was a full time job. She was 45 and it was hard work keeping her roots covered and going to the gym every day. When she thought about it, it really did seem like she wasn't doing much, but whenever they went on vacations it fell to her to make the plans, and whenever they went to a party, she would have to buy gifts and organize transportation. Also, if there was anything the kids needed, she would have to help them. She helped with homework and got them on the bus in the morning, and she didn't even have a nanny anymore.

At any rate, after the emotional explosion over the gloves, she started fucking a local barista/guitar player at the coffee shop she went to every day. He wasn't anywhere near as attractive or successful Bryson, but there was a caring quality in him she liked and Jeremy wasn't the freak perfectionist her husband was. He was messy and wore rumpled flannel and thick knits. His hair was floppy and he got haircuts whenever he felt like it. She was sure he would care less if his meals were on time, or if she made the bed in the morning.

"Oh God!" she said as she lay naked on his futon surrounded by lava lamps, tie dye wall hangings and books about tantric sex. His 6 inch cock was lodged inside her.

"Oh right there." she said as he moved inside her and ground his pubic bone against her clit. This man knew everything about sex. The way he went down on her, the way he somehow was able to find her G spot every time they did it. In fact, before Jeremy, she wasn't sure she could cum easily with a man. Even with Bryson she had trouble achieving orgasm even in the best of times, but as soon as Jeremy put it inside her she knew that wasn't true. He was a sexual God, and made her feel like aphrodite instead of an abused scullery maid.

He also had a way with his tongue, and even having his fingers inside her was amazing. She often wondered just how many women he had to finger and lick to gain the level of expertise he had, but stopped short of asking, knowing that she would rather stay in the dark about it.

He moved inside of her, somehow intuitively knowing she wanted it faster, and she brought her pelvis up to meet his and the pleasure built inside her. As he upped the tempo, she arched her back and felt a wave of rapture come up from somewhere inside of her and explode with a burst.

The muscles in her vagina clamped down on his cock and caused him to scream "Oh fuck!" as he emptied himself inside her, causing her to spasm in several waves.

After recuperating for a time she asked, "So how is that new manager working out? The one almost fired you for being five minutes late?" She was feeling his warm wet sperm trickle out of her as she fingered his chest.

"Oh fuck, let's not talk about work," he said. "How is Bryson?" He asked.

"Let's not talk about Bryson." she countered, mimicking the way he said "let's not talk about work" and rolled over on her back. She didn't want Bryson to exist when she was with Jeremy. When she was with Jeremy she could forget being at home with Mr. Cranky pants.

"You need to file for divorce. You want me to go with you to the consultation?" he asked.

"No, that would look really bad, but I'm looking at lawyers now." she said. It was a lie, she had no intention of divorcing Bryson.

She had talked to Jeremy about getting a divorce prior to them sleeping together, but didn't really want to do it. Having an affair was enough. If it weren't for the kids, she would maybe consider it, but with two middle schoolers, she didn't want to disrupt their lives. Also, she found that when she was sleeping with someone else, it justified things when Bryson was in one of his moods. She could tell herself she deserved the treatment he gave her and think of how she was having great sex with someone else right under his nose.

Another reason she didn't want to get a divorce and run off with Jeremy was because having Jeremy in the kid's lives would be a terrible idea. He was hardly a role model. At least Bryson believed in working towards something and demanded excellence. He wasn't about to let the kids play video games all day and wallow in their emotions, and knew what hard work was about having gone to medical school and earned a PhD.

Practically speaking too, if she were to live with Jeremy, they would barely scrape by. She had gone to school for a few years as an English major while Jeremy was a self taught guitar player who worked at a coffee shop. He considered himself to have made it big because he had a standard Saturday night gig where he basically got paid in beer.

Jeremy talked to her for a while longer about how much better she would feel once the divorce was finalized and that they could be together, but the more he talked, the more she started to see the good in Bryson.

Jeremy was 10 years younger than she was and had divorced his wife of 2 years just last year. Of course Laura empathized with him on one level, but she could see why his wife left him. He was great in the sack, but wasn't husband material. Way beyond the fact that he didn't make a lot of money, did drugs sometimes and wasn't exactly reliable, he sure as hell he wasn't faithful. In fact, it didn't sound like he had been loyal to his wife even from the start. All he was really good for was playing soft ballads on his guitar, being a good listener, and feigning apologies because those things led to sex. A lot of the time anyway.

...........................

About a half hour later, she kissed Jeremy goodbye at the door. As she walked away from his small dilapidated house, she noticed a sleek black suburban across the street, and wondered how someone in this neighborhood could afford such a car. People who lived on the east side (in her neighborhood) hired that type of SUV to take them to the airport sometimes, but it was out of place here among the potholes, cracked curbs and small houses that cried out for repair.

She looked at the shiny stretch vehicle perplexed and got into her own Tesla model X which she supposed stood out equally among the 15 to 20 year old cars with balding tires and broken air conditioning. She reasoned the suburban was an undercover police officer who wasn't so well concealed. Probably some kind of drug bust was about to go down.

When she pulled back into her own driveway, she looked gratefully at the three story house. It was such a nice home, and it felt even more lavish after being at Jeremy's unkempt rental all morning. It had a two car garage, heated swimming pool, game room, walk-in closet, two ovens and every kitchen gadget known to man. She thought back to when she and Bryson bought it 15 years ago. How happy they had been running through the rooms like children and fucking in every one of them.

If she did divorce Bryson, she would be giving up a lot. He could be mean, perfectionistic and demanding, but did she want to give up her house and cars and lifestyle, all for a man who would deliver a few nights of passionate sex then eventually cheat on her?

Besides, was Bryson really that bad? Yes, he could be controlling, but he was probably stressed at work, and he wasn't even home very often, going to conferences and giving speeches, sometimes in far off locations. He was an anesthesiologist and when things got tough, he wanted organization at home because he felt so out of control himself. Hadn't he told her as much? Over and over? She knew it could be a tough profession, and the high salary carried with it a lot of stress and risk for lawsuits. She had known that when she married him.

She had a few hours left until the kids got home, so she decided to do something special for Bryson. She would organize the pantry and make his favorite dinner.

That would be something else she would have to give up if she divorced Bryson. Having time to cook. She would have to take a full time job doing God only knows what, and even then she wouldn't be living half as lavishly. Right now, she wasn't working at all, and even if she got to keep the house, she certainly couldn't keep up with the payments, even working around the clock. Bryson of course could be sweet and charming and would be with some other woman in five minutes.

That settled it. She would break up with Jeremy and if Bryson wouldn't go to therapy, she would. She would learn to cope. She had too much to lose getting divorced. She couldn't give all this up for an unfaithful barista who fancied himself a musician.

She took everything out of the pantry, threw out a few expired items, wiped down the shelves and organized the cleaning supplies when she heard a creaking noise like somebody had opened the front door. Startled, she went out to the foyer to see Bryson standing at the entryway.

"Hi Honey." she tried to say in as chipper a voice as she could muster. He looked at her with fire blazing in his eyes. They shone with raw emotion and he felt uneasy. Unsure of what he might do she asked "Are you here for a late lunch? Do you want me to make you something?" she said it hesitantly, hoping the look would go away.

Bryson didn't answer and instead flipped his phone around to show her an image. "What the fuck were you doing this morning?" The picture was of her kissing Jeremy at his house only a little more than an hour ago. She could vividly see the broken screen door, uncut grass, her blonde hair and the sweater she was wearing right that very moment in the photo.

Bryson looked at her with a funny smile that reminded her of a deranged killer and the blood drained from her face as she stared at his phone, stunned.

"You hired a private investigator?" she said, unable to breathe.

"Yeah I fucking hired a private investigator." he told her "What did he do to you from 9:32 in the morning until 12:17?" he asked, but Laura didn't answer. "Did he stick his cock in your pussy? He said throwing his phone on the couch and grabbing her by the waist. He then took his other hand and grabbed her crotch. "Did he stick it in there and make you cum?" he asked. "Or maybe he stuck it in your ass. You never gave that puckered hole up for me, you slut" he growled low in her ear.

Laura screamed, but he didn't let her go. Instead he kept his hold on her and forced down her black yoga pants. "I'm going to give it to you now." he said, "You haven't given it up for two years." he said, but by fucking God you're going to give it up now and you're going to like it."

His eyes blazed and he forced her to the couch on her stomach so that her ass was up against his crotch. She tried to get away, but he was so much bigger and stronger. She was slender and fairly petite at 5'4, and he had been on both the wrestling and football teams all four years of high school and had her in a kind of a hold that prevented her from moving.

All of a sudden she felt him prodding her with his thick meat and forced his way in."

"Oh Fuck, you're wet." he screamed, and all Laura could think of was how she was glad the kids weren't there. "That prick came in you, didn't he, you slut." he said. She didn't say anything, tears streaming down her face. "Answer me!" he said, pulling her hair, holding it like a horse's reign.

She didn't say anything. She was crying too hard so he smacked her butt. It hurt so much she wasn't entirely sure she wasn't bleeding from the force of his hand and he repeated his command.

"Yes" she cried out, not sure if admitting it would send him in more of a range than he already was.

She felt the hair tear from her scalp as he pulled out a clump of it.

He thrust a few more times, and said "Good. You can thank that boyfriend of yours for the lube since I'm about to fuck your ass."

She screamed in protest. They had never had anal sex. They had tried several times in the past after he begged, but after he tried wedging a finger in there with a shit ton of lube she had yelped with pain and they had stopped.

He turned her over so that he was facing her. "I want to see your whore face while you're being punished, you whore." he said, and then pulled out. She tried to wriggle away as he forced her to turn around. When she got a hand free, she grabbed his face and started scratching, but barely made Bryson wince before he pivoted so that he was pinning her down again.

His cock probed her asshole, which had been waxed along with her pussy just the day before because she had been trying to impress Jeremy with her well groomed lady parts. "You've never been that clean for me," he shouted before fire ran through her and she felt herself tear in pain. It almost felt as though she was being spliced in two.

"Ahhh!" she screamed. "Fuck! Fuck! You're a monster!" she said, Mascara streaming down her face along with tears, but he didn't stop. He kept thrusting and tearing into her. Fucking without letting up.

After she got used to it, it felt in a way satisfying and even pleasurable.

She let out a moan. "So you like that, slut? You think that's good? You would like it, you whore. You're nothing but a two dollar hooker."

He was right, she did deserve to be punished for what she'd done, and she didn't even deserve to feel pleasure, but she felt full and satisfied in a way she had never felt with regular sex. Somehow it felt more intimate. Maybe because she had never done it with anybody before, but even with only cum for lube, it felt good, and she was even being aroused from it.

"Oh God!" she said, feeling something inside of her stirring. If only she could reach around and touch her clit, she thought, but he had his hands on hers so hard she was sure there would be bruising.

"That's right you bitch." Bryson said, "Take it and like it." he said, and he released her hand to hit her across the face, but it didn't do anything but cause her pussy to tingle more.

"Fuck!" she screamed. "I need it. I need to be punished!" she said, getting off on being used.

Just then, Bryson came inside her butthole. He let out a sigh, then then pulled out. Then, he hocked up all the saliva he could and spat on her. "You deserved it, you whore." he said. "For ruining this family." He then looked at her with more loathing in his eyes than she could have ever imagined, and left slamming the door, leaving her naked and grasping for her clothes on the couch.

She put her clothes on and cried, unsure of what to do next. She went to the bathroom and discovered she was badly hurt. Her face was red and swollen, and down below she was a mess. Her right butt cheek was sore, and so were her wrists. It was perplexing. She had felt used, and terrible, but on some level she had liked it too.

She quickly realized the unwanted sex hadn't been the worst part of it. It was not knowing what he would do next. How he was feeling, and how he would retaliate.

She thought about her options. She could go to Jeremy's house and stay with him, but didn't feel right having the kids go with her. She could go to her mom's house, but that was three states away, and she didn't really want to have to tell Maddie she couldn't turn in her science fair project or Jack that he couldn't go to soccer. So, she decided to do nothing. She would take a shower, and make dinner sleep upstairs until she could figure things out.

...........................

That night, dinner was strange. She didn't cook the meal she had planned of steak and mashed potatoes that had always been Bryson's favorite, but instead ordered Chinese take out, leaving the items that belonged in the pantry on the counter. She had applied ice and make up to her face and styled her hair in a way that it hung slightly over the reddened area so the kids didn't notice, though Bryson displayed the scratch on his face proudly.

"What happened to you, Dad?" Maddie asked, interrupting a long winded explanation about why Mrs. Peterson had extended the deadline for the science fair project.

"Errant scalpel." he said, looking directly at Laura as though she had come out of nowhere and attacked him. He then remembered who he was talking to and said in a lighter tone, "I was bending over and a nurse accidentally grazed my face with an instrument she was holding, honey. It was just out of the autoclave, so there were no germs or bacteria, don't worry. I'm fine." he lied.

"It looks like it hurts, Daddy. Sorry that happened." she said and their son Jack agreed.

The hours dragged on until it was finally bedtime. Laura took her time with the kids, coming into their rooms to hear more about their lives and friends. Finally, when there was nothing else to be done, she headed towards one of the upstairs guest rooms where she had moved her toothbrush and some of her clothes earlier that day.

"I'm sorry." Laura texted her husband downstairs. "For everything." she wrote, hoping he would come upstairs and tell her he understood. That it was his temper that had gotten to him, and he understood how she had been compelled to cheat and they would work it out.

He didn't come to her though. She only heard the shower running and then finally when she tipped downstairs to check she saw the light under his door had gone out.

After he had gone to bed, she went outside the balcony of the guest room and called Jeremy to end things. The jig was up. Bryson had found out about their relationship and she wanted to work on her marriage.