Reality Check

I wrote this story as a promise to a friend. I want to thank 'LadyCibelle and 'Techsan' for editing this story. Their input and editing make it a much better read.

Chapter 1: A Wife's Opinion

For the writers out there, women read these stories also. When it comes to cheating, men cheat more on their spouses and girlfriends than do women. You would never know it when reading about the cheating that goes on in these stories.

Also most women (not all, there are exceptions) are not sluts, whores, cunts, and cheating wives. We may have our own fantasies but we do not want to fuck our uncles, fathers, brothers, or sons. We aren't out there trying to find a interracial person with a twelve-inch cock and too damn thick to fit in our vaginas, nor are we looking for a man with a nine-inch tongue who breaths through his ears. We are not all lesbians or bi women looking for strange pussies to lick including our mothers, sister, aunts and grandmothers.

We are on the other hand mothers, wives, sisters, daughters and nieces of men whom we respect and hope they respect us. Cheating is wrong no matter what sex you are. I may come over as very bitter but I don't mean to be. I am just trying to tell you how it is.

I am a forty-four year old mother of three beautiful kids whom I love and respect. I was married for a number of years until my husband turned into one of the cheating husbands. Here is my story:

My name is Marsha and my ex-husband's name is Roger. We were sweethearts in high school. We were both fairly good students and after graduation we both went to college. We played around and touched each other but never had sex - by the way, eating a pussy or sucking a cock is having sex no matter what your ex-president says.

Roger was two years older than I was so he had two years of college under his belt before I even attended. We wanted to make love so we decided to get married even though we were both still in college. In my second year of college after we got married, I got pregnant with my first child. We were living with my parents at the time. After I had the baby I put my career on hold. I couldn't handle a baby, college and a part time cashier's job. It was just too much.

Roger painted houses during the summers to help bring in some money. We pretty much lived off my parents and saved our money for a down payment on our own home. When I went to work, mom took care of the baby for me. Roger was in his last year and then he would find a job and we could get our own place. Until then I was the bread winner of the family (with my parents help).

When Roger graduated, I was pregnant with our second child so it didn't look like I would be going back to college. Roger found a good job where he was the supervisor at the local manufacturing plant. We were finally on our way. We purchased our home and set up housekeeping. Life was good and we now had a daughter and a son. My mom would still come over for a few hours to watch the kids while I worked. We needed the added income. About a year later I became pregnant with number three. For those who wondered why, we didn't use birth control because we wanted a large family. Roger and I both came from no siblings households. We figured we wanted either three or four kids.

Roger was promoted to a middle manager position which really helped out financially. I gained weight during my third pregnancy and didn't feel very good about myself. I found that Roger didn't come home as early and seemed to have an awful lot of evening meetings. He called one afternoon and said that he had an evening dinner meeting with some people from the second shift so he would be home late. He wouldn't get home till probably ten or eleven o'clock. I asked him where this meeting was taking place and he said at the Ramada Inn. I told him to be careful and I would see him in the morning.

I was around seven months pregnant and probably looked like a beached whale. I hadn't been out anywhere for months other than to work. I called my mom and told her I wanted to surprise Roger for dinner and asked if she would watch the little ones for me. She said of course so I went and put on a dress that looked like a tent on me and dropped my little ones off at mom's house. I told her we would be home late so I would just come and get them the next day. As I waddled into the Ramada Inn I was trying to locate Roger and his group. I looked and looked but couldn't find them. I saw a couple in a booth. From behind, it looked like Roger.

The couple was sitting on the same side in the booth. It sure didn't look like a business meeting to me. I walked away from them and a waiter asked if he could help me. I told him I was waiting for someone but would love to sit down at a table for two. Seeing my condition he guided me over to a table with a perfect view of Roger and his so-called associate. I asked for an iced tea and the waiter went to get it for me. All this time I watched Roger and the woman.

She looked to be around nineteen, maybe a year or two older. I wasn't great in guessing ages. She had on a low cut white blouse that showed ample boobs and a mini skirt that showed what she had for breakfast. Her tiny little white panties were almost transparent. I think that was because she was wet from Roger's fingers being where they didn't belong. He had his hand on her mound rubbing her pussy and I could see his fingers had found the leg opening of her panties and were into her pussy. My God, my husband, the father of my two babies and one on the way was finger-fucking this girl.

I saw Roger get up and head toward the restroom. I guess he got excited and had to take a piss. Why do they call it taking a piss? Shouldn't it be called leaving a piss? Isn't that what you are actually doing.

The waiter came back to my table and I said my husband looked like a no show and I paid him for the iced tea and gave him a generous tip. I got up and waddled over to the young so-called lady. I asked her who the man was that she was with because I thought I knew him.

She smiled at me and said, "Roger Marcum. He is my boyfriend that I've been seeing for a few months. Is he the man you thought he was?" she asked me.

"Yes," I replied, "But not the man I thought he was. We've been married going on five years."

She dropped her drink as Roger approached the table. When he saw me he said, "Marsha, what are you doing here?"

I replied, "That's a question I should be asking you. Where's the rest of your group?"

"I can explain, Marsha, just give me a moment."

"I've given you five years, Roger, that's enough."

The girl, Sally, looked at Roger and said, "You never told me you were married and have a family. My God, she looks like she's ready to have a baby right now." She looked at me and apologized. She told me she had no idea he was married and said she never wanted to see him again.

I told him I didn't want to see him again either as I headed for the door. Sally got up, slapped him and began to walk out also. She apologized to me again as she walked me to my car. She actually turned out to be a nice lady. She mentioned that Roger didn't wear a ring so she didn't know. I explained that the factory were he worked didn't like men to wear jewelry when around machinery so we never bought him a wedding ring. I did show her mine.

Roger had to stay back and wait for the waiter and pay the bill. I went home and Roger pulled up about ten minutes later. He told me how sorry he was, that the girl didn't mean anything to him, and how much he loved me along with the rest of the bullshit you hear.

I told him I couldn't kick him out of his own house. I wasn't allowing him in my bed and he could sleep on the couch or on our daughter's little bed since she wasn't there. I told him I wouldn't put up with a cheating husband and if he didn't leave the next day I would. I would take the kids and move back to my parents' house.

He called off work the next day and packed a couple of suitcases and left. He was going to a friend's house until he could decide what to do. He called almost every day and came to see the kids about every third day. Whenever he came over, I went into another other room. I still loved the man. That's the way a lot of us women are. He would constantly ask to come back. He would say he learned a lesson and missed me and the kids.

I started blaming myself for his cheating on me. My hormones were so mixed up. I think I was trying to make excuses to let him move back in. I let myself go, I didn't give him enough sex during my pregnancy, I was a bad wife, I didn't treat him good enough. Anything I could think of to try and take the blame off of him. What a mistake.

When I had to go in the hospital for the birth of our third child, he was there. He stayed with me during the whole delivery and was there with me afterwards.

When it was time for me to be released a couple of days later, Roger moved back home with me. I kept him on a pretty tight rope after that.

Life went back to normal for a woman with three kids under six years of age. It was a few weeks before Roger and I made love again. I remember the first time since he came back home. As he was rubbing my mound, all I could picture was him doing it to the other girl. From that day on I think I had lost some respect for Roger. I knew I couldn't totally trust him again. I wanted to but my heart wouldn't let me.

We went on for about the next ten years as if we never had a problem. We did all the family things. Attended PTA meetings. Went to the kids' band concerts. Went on vacations. I guess we were like most families but my mind wouldn't forget. It wasn't that I didn't want to forget;.It was that my mind wouldn't let me. The cheating kind of stays in the recesses of your mind waiting to pop out at any time. I believe that's what happens during arguments when someone always delves into the past to bring up a point.

Our love life started to get better. One evening as we went to bed, Roger started to caress my breasts. God, it felt so good. He used to grab and squeeze them. This was so much better.

Here's a hint to guys: Women like their breasts caressed, not mauled or grabbed. Don't pretend to be a mammogram machine and grab and squeeze a woman's breast. Gently caress them and suck on her nipples. Once she gets worked up she'll probably let you do a little more squeezing and rubbing.

Instead of just jumping on and humping me, he started by putting his hand on my tummy and gently rubbing it in a circular motion. I was really getting turned on. I asked him where he learned this all of a sudden and he said he found a couple of web sites with stories in them and was trying some of the things he read about.

I told him it felt fantastic, to keep reading if it was all going to be this good. He made me feel good about myself by complimenting me and taking his time when we made love. I thought things might finally be changing. I wanted to look better for him so I started exercising regularly. He began to notice and asked me to buy sexier clothes. He began to tell me how much he loved my body.

I saw little changes begin that I wasn't overly comfortable with but went along with him since he was paying so much attention to me. An example was when we were making love, he would ask me if I ever thought about making love with other men. I told him, "No" that he was the only man I ever wanted.

Another time he asked if I would like for other men to watch us make love. I wasn't sure exactly how to answer that. You see, I didn't want anyone watching us making love but at the same time I knew he wanted me to say yes because I could feel his erection get harder with positive answers to his questions. So I began giving him the answers that I knew he wanted to hear because it turned him on which in turn gave me better orgasms.

I explained to him the truth when we were not in the throes of passion, that I didn't want other men or being touched or felt up by anyone but him. I really didn't think about fucking some movie star, I really didn't. I explained that I said it all for him and for his fantasy talk. I needed for him to understand the truth.

The next time we made love he talked to me so sensuously. He called me his lover, his baby, his sweetheart, all the endearing terms. He made me feel wanted and loved.

Here's another hint to the guys: Don't call your woman your whore, slut, bitch or hooker unless she tells you it's okay. Most women like to be called endearing terms. You want her hot, not turned off. While I'm giving advice, think twice before jamming your tongue down her throat. The best advice is always ask her first. Frenching is alright if both sides want it. For me, I don't want somebody trying to jam their fat nasty smoker's tongue down my throat. Again, ask her before trying it.

He didn't just try to jab his fingers in my love hole. He gently massaged the outside of my vagina till I was wet. It got me hot enough that I asked him to push his fingers in. My Roger was becoming quite the lover.

Chapter 2: Everything goes to hell,

We were having sex a lot more often then we used to. It really made me feel good to see that Roger was putting in the extra effort. I still had a problem with his fantasies of me and other men. I think he was starting to read the wrong kind of stories. I kept reminding him of the difference between fantasy and reality. Of course he said he knew that and would never ask me to do something I was against. I told him he does that every time he fantasizes. I only wanted one man in my life. I even told him that men always come on to women. That's when he asked me if men ever come on to me.?

"Roger, every woman - and I mean every woman - has had men make advances to her. For a good looking lady it probably happens at least every couple of days depending on her work and social life. Of course if she is a waitress or works in a large office it's probably a daily thing. Women just learn to live with it."

"What about cashiers?"

"For Christ sakes, Roger, yes, I have gotten hit on my whole life. Generally once you tell a fellow 'No' they get the hint. Why do you want to know shit like that? I find it more degrading than a turn on. Why would men hit on married women they don't even know? That type of man has no respect for women."

"I've always wondered, that's all. I know some of the guys at work would say what a nice looking wife I had and I was just wondering if they hit on you."

"What? Roger, if I told you about every guy that has ever tried anything, you would be fighting with men forever. As I told you, most men seem to respect women but there are the few that don't and they usually get put in their place. That's enough of this talk. Besides we have to go shopping for something to wear to the New Year's eve bash that you want to go to."

Roger and some of the people he worked with had a New Years Eve party every year. There were usually about fifteen to twenty couples. Most were really nice respectable people. There were always a couple that just wanted to get a feel of an ass or something.

Roger didn't want to go so my oldest daughter and I went looking for a dress. Of course Roger asked me to get something sexy. Carol, my daughter and I found a beautiful sexy black dress. It was low cut in front with bra cups built in. It had no back to speak of and was about four inches above my knees. Carol said that I looked beautiful in it. "She said that when dad see's me in it, we might not even make it to the party." I asked her if she thought it looked a little too slutty.

"No, mom, you look great. All you need is black panties and a black garter belt."

I had to laugh. This outfit with a garter belt would definitely be over the top. I told Carol that it would be dark pantyhose. I wasn't trying to hitch a man, I already had one. We both laughed together. She convinced me to get thigh-high hosiery and little black garters instead of panty hose. When I had to go to the restroom, it would be a lot easier.

All three of our kids were invited to a chaperoned New Year's party at one of their friend's house. I talked to the mother personally to make sure everything was okay. There wouldn't even be alcoholic beverages for the adults there. They didn't want to take any chances of any young people drinking. After the party the young people would spend the night, the girls upstairs and the boys in the decorated basement.

I got dressed for the evening. I have to tell you I thought I looked sexy as hell. My kids even told me that. Roger was happy I didn't wear a bra. His action was starting to bother me. Something was wrong with his actions. It was like he was getting perverted or something. Maybe he read one too many stories. He asked me if I was going to wear panties. I looked at him perturbed for even asking. I told him I was ready so he took the kids over to their party, came back, got me and we headed to ours.

I liked most of the people there. I'm not going through all the names of everyone but I might mention a name or two in the telling of the story. I will mention that the house we were at was owned by Lance and Carrie. Carrie was a beautiful young woman. She and Lance had been married for about three years. He was fresh out of college and was the newest member of the management team. I thought he was a little on the cocky side and wondered why he would hang around with Roger who was at least twelve years his senior.

The party was well underway. The drinks flowed and the music blared out. There was lots of dancing, talking and drinking. I stopped drinking because I was really starting to feel it. I switched over to punch;, which later I found out was stronger then the mixed drinks. I danced with everyone. As usual a few guys tried to cop a feel. No real damage was done. I glanced over and saw Roger dancing with Carrie. She looked pretty drunk also. I didn't care to dance with Lance that much. He was one of the cop-a-feel sort of guys. At one point I told Lance to keep his hands to himself or I would tell Roger. He moved his hands but gave me a smirk. No one seemed terribly bad. Most guys were feeling up their own wives which was nice for a change. As I said, men in general were pretty decent. There are always a few bad apples.

I kept drinking punch along with Carrie. At midnight we were about three sheets to the wind, pretty darn drunk. Everyone started kissing everyone. I was feeling kind of numb so if anyone did cop a feel while we were kissing for New Years I probably didn't even feel it. All in all the party was a lot of fun, seeing some of our old friends and even discussing life and families with them. It was nice to have good friends around.

About 12:30 AM some of the couples were beginning to leave. I was inebriated and went to sit on the couch. Roger came over and sat down next to me and kissed me. He reached up and lowered the top of my dress so only he could see, or so I thought, and began to gently rub my nipples. He handed me another glass of punch and put his hand on my thigh as I finished the punch. I must have passed out.

I felt I was dreaming as his hands gently still rubbed my nipples. I leaned over and laid my head against his chest. I felt the hand back on my thigh and spread my legs so he could move his hand up further. He had his hand on my mound. I remember saying, "It feels so good, Roger, so good," when he moved his hand inside my now wet black panties and his fingers moved inside my pussy. "God, Roger, I hope no one else can see what you are doing to me," I said in a very soft and distant voice.

"It isn't Roger and everyone else is gone," the voice replied.

I woke up startled and there was Lance with his fingers in my pussy and the top of my dress down exposing my tits.

"Get your hands off of me, you fucking pervert. Where's Roger? Where is my husband? I hope he beats you to a fucking pulp." I pulled away from him and pushed him away from me.