I fully intended to beat the shit out of Wyatt when I arrived at his house that evening. While keeping a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel of my truck, I imagined what I was going to do to the man once I got my hands on him. I knew from the photos the private investigator sent me that Wyatt was taller and probably a good deal stronger than I was, but I had one advantage: unadulterated hatred coursing through my veins. And the reason I hated Wyatt? Because he was the man fucking my wife.

I didn't know him personally, though I was aware he owned a company and was well respected in our town. I had no idea how he and my wife met. Was it a random encounter? Did he see her in some shop, or at her job, and then decide he had to have her despite the ring she wore? He had a house out in the country on a large tract of land. His property was secluded; he and Alma must have thought they were safe from any prying eyes. The investigator snapped photos of them kissing on Wyatt's front porch. In one of those photos, Wyatt had his hand on Alma's curvy ass, giving it a possessive squeeze. Just thinking about that made my blood pressure skyrocket. They couldn't even wait until they got in the damn house before groping each other.

Her betrayal was as caustic as acid eating me up inside. Now that I had evidence that would destroy my wife, I planned to beat Wyatt to a pulp and then tell Alma I wanted a divorce. She and I had been married fifteen years; all that time together, fucking wasted. I felt like a fool for not figuring it out sooner. Thinking back over the last several months, I could honestly say Alma acted no different than usual. Well, that wasn't exactly true; she did seem happier. No longer was she so quick to nag me about taking out the trash or getting around to fixing the leaky kitchen faucet. She overlooked little things that used to annoy the hell out of her. And because of that, our relationship actually improved. I never would have guessed her brighter mood was due to her having an affair.

I became suspicious only when I caught her in a lie about where she'd gone one night a few weeks ago. At first, I didn't want to believe she would deceive me, but as I thought about it more and more, it all began to make sense: her frequent nights out with her friends, and her sudden desire to spend more time at her mom's house even though the two of them had never gotten along. I didn't confront Alma; instead, I hired the investigator and prayed he would prove me wrong. I wanted him to vindicate my wife and make me feel ashamed I'd ever believed she might be capable of cheating. To his credit, the investigator took no pleasure in letting me know my suspicions were well founded.

While I now drove on backroads toward Wyatt's house, dusk faded into night. The darkness seemed even deeper out this way, with no streetlights and few other vehicles on the road with me. The thought of finding Wyatt and Alma together had me panting with rage. I'd somehow managed to hide my fury from Alma even when she came home late last night. I knew where she'd been, but I didn't yet have the photos. The investigator hadn't sent me those until this afternoon.

Alma had let herself into the house the night before, humming under her breath as she set her purse and keys on the table. Though she'd worked all day, my wife had a lightness to her step, and when she saw me sitting in the living room, her face broke into a smile. "It's almost midnight," she said, as if I needed reminding. "I told you not to wait up, Sam."

I couldn't bear to look at her for fear of what my eyes might reveal. Instead, I took a swig of beer and kept my stare fixed on the television. "I wanted to make sure you got home okay."

Alma walked over to me and ruffled my hair. I tensed at her touch, but she didn't seem to notice. "Aren't you a sweetheart," she murmured. I took a deep breath, trying to catch Wyatt's scent on her. All I smelled was a trace of her perfume. "Hey, what's wrong?"

I forced myself to meet her eyes. Her smile had vanished, and she now appeared worried while searching my face. "It's just been a long day, that's all," I said.

Alma's smile returned. Leaning forward, she tried to plant a kiss on my lips, but I turned away so she got my cheek instead. "I'm sorry I stayed out so late. Let me make it up to you." She dropped to her knees before my chair, and my eyes widened when she unbuttoned my jeans.

"Alma, what are you doing?" I asked quietly.

She flashed a grin while freeing my cock from my underwear. "You know what I'm doing, baby."

I stared down at my wife as if she were a stranger. How could she come home after fucking another man and then go down on me? How was the deception not eating her up inside? I wanted to shout that I knew everything and could never forgive her. I wanted to humiliate her until she broke down weeping. But I didn't say a word. Instead, I set the beer bottle aside and brushed her long chestnut-brown hair back from her face. She nestled against my hand, as if she missed my touch. I hated how quickly I grew hard when she began stroking my cock.

Alma grinned at my obvious arousal. "I think you're already starting to forgive me."

Though it was late and we were both tired, she didn't rush the blowjob. She spent a lot of time licking and gently sucking my tip, getting me even harder. At first, I leaned back and closed my eyes, unable to watch. Her affection, appearing so genuine, caused an ache deep in my chest. It would have been far less painful if she'd simply strolled into the house, wished me a good night, and gone straight to bed.

I drew in a shuddering breath as Alma slid her tongue along the underside of my dick. She kissed my entire length before nuzzling my sack. My wife usually didn't pay much attention to my balls when going down on me. She was always willing to suck my cock, so I didn't dare ask her to do more for fear of turning her off to the act altogether. She would occasionally give my nuts a quick fondle while primarily focusing on my dick. But tonight, Alma was eager to lick and suckle my sack. My eyes flew open, and I watched in astonishment as she drew my balls between her lips.

"Ah fuck, that feels good!" My grasp on her hair tightened a little, but I was careful not to hurt her. All the while, I couldn't help but wonder if Wyatt had asked her to do this to him.

Just before Alma took my cock in her mouth once more, she gazed up at me with her gorgeous hazel eyes and whispered, "I love you so much, Sam."

I had to close my eyes again so she wouldn't see me fighting back tears. This would be the last time she ever touched me so intimately. After tomorrow, our marriage would be over. As distraught as that realization made me, my dick had a mind of its own, and it was ready to come. "Alma, I'm close," I panted. I expected her to pull off then, for she never let me come in her mouth. But she continued sucking and stroking, making eager noises as she worked to take me deep. I released a cry as I climaxed, my pleasure tainted by the shame growing within me.

Alma swallowed my cum and then licked me clean before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. With a wink, she said, "So we're good now, baby?"

I managed to hold her stare. "Yeah, Alma. We're good."

It gutted me to remember the loving smile that had danced on her lips then. As hurt and enraged as I was, I knew I'd miss that smile. But I also knew I had to leave her.

As I now parked down the road from Wyatt's property and started toward his house on foot, I carried a small flashlight so I wouldn't trip while walking through the dark. He had no close neighbors, and I figured he and Alma would be way too busy to notice me approaching the house. The porchlight was on, providing a little more illumination. It was October, and while the afternoon had been warm, the air now grew cooler. Still, I saw that Wyatt had opened several windows. I circled around the lit-up house, keeping to the shadows. The windows gave me a clear view of the living room and dining area. Wyatt's house was a single-story, and I could only hope I'd have just as good of a view into his bedroom. I wanted to know what I'd be interrupting when I banged on the front door.

Once I reached the backyard, I crept closer to the house. It took just a few seconds for me to locate his bedroom window. It was open, and I could easily see inside. In the room's soft lamplight, Wyatt and Alma stood naked. They'd apparently just undressed, their clothes strewn over the floor. As they stood by the bed, Wyatt gave my wife a fervent kiss. I could see their tongues meet between their lips. Alma slipped her arms around Wyatt's neck, pressing her body firmly against him.

Now that I had a chance to get a good look at the man, I guessed he stood a few inches over six feet. He was toned and muscular, obviously a regular at the gym. My stare dropped to his cock, which had grown hard while Alma stroked it. I judged it to be about seven inches, an inch bigger than mine. Alma claimed to love me still, so was this affair simply the result of her physical attraction to Wyatt? Or did he make her feel wanted in a way I'd failed to? Tonight her face was free of makeup, just as it usually was. She hated cosmetics and used a little blush and lipstick only on rare occasions. She hadn't shaved her pussy for him, either. Wyatt clearly desired her the way she was. The way I always had.

I moved even closer until I stood in the darkness right outside the window. Despite the night's coolness, my face flushed and my stomach roiled at the sight of Wyatt lowering his lips to Alma's neck. He sucked at her tender skin, making her squeal. "Don't leave any marks!" she warned through her giggles.

Wyatt grinned and dipped his head lower. I stood frozen, my stare riveted to the two of them. He swirled his tongue over her hard pink nipple. "How about here?" he murmured. "Can I mark you here?"

"No!" She tried to sound stern, but as Wyatt latched onto her nipple, her moans grew louder, carrying to me across the room. I studied her face, again feeling as if I were watching a complete stranger. Alma wove her fingers through Wyatt's dark hair. She gazed down at him, her eyes full of the same tenderness they'd held for me last night. My mind screamed at me to put a stop to this, to make my presence known before they went any further. But I remained motionless with my feet rooted to the ground.

Wyatt lifted Alma into his arms and placed her gently on the bed. Then he joined her, and from my position, I could see them in profile. I watched as he settled between her parted thighs. With his fingers, he spread her pussy lips. My breath caught in my throat when Wyatt gave her clit several teasing licks, making her whine for more. Soon she was grinding her pussy against his face, prompting him to moan with his own pleasure. Alma grabbed Wyatt's hair, her grip rough as she held him to her cunt. "Fuck yes, suck my clit!"

My mouth watered while I watched him feast on her pussy. I could so easily recall her taste. Her hips began rolling as her excitement grew. With his fingers and tongue, Wyatt worked Alma into a frenzy. How long had it been since I'd been able to do the same? Not since we were newlyweds, I guessed. Once we'd been married a few years, our love life grew routine, boringly predictable.

I could tell Alma was now close to orgasm. Her thighs shook, and her groans became guttural. As Wyatt gazed up at her, I understood he was awaiting her climax, refusing to stop until he made her come.

And come she did, so fiercely that her back arched off the bed. Wyatt had to grab hold of her hips in order to keep his mouth between her thighs. I swallowed back my own groan when Alma surrendered to the force of her climax, letting herself go in a way she rarely did with me. It was then that I realized I was aroused, my cock painfully hard in my jeans. I loathed myself at that moment. How could I take pleasure in watching my wife with another man?

As Alma came down from her orgasm, Wyatt lay beside her, pulling her close. She grinned, still breathing hard, then thanked him with a deep kiss. Once he stretched out on his back, his cock looming out from him, Alma decided to return the favor. She took her time kissing her way down his chest and stomach. Wyatt lifted his head, eager to witness the journey her mouth was taking. She hovered over his tip, doing some teasing of her own before finally swirling her tongue all around it.

By that point, I was leaking precum into my underwear. I set the flashlight on the ground, careful to remain quiet. It felt as if I were outside of my body, watching not only Alma and Wyatt but also myself while I rushed to free my cock. My shame could no longer dampen my own lust. Breathing faster, I began roughly stroking.

Alma was busy giving Wyatt's sack plenty of attention, just as she'd done with me the night before. I could tell he was wild for it, and I realized I indeed had him to thank for my wife's newfound love of ball-sucking. Soon his dick was pulsing, as if desperate for her mouth. Alma grinned and licked his erection from base to tip. "Suck my cock, Alma, please!" Wyatt groaned.

My arousal only grew while watching Alma's head bob up and down, her lips wrapped around Wyatt's shaft. He placed a hand on her head and guided her even farther down his length. I'd never dared to do that before, always letting Alma set the pace of the blowjob. But she yielded to Wyatt completely, taking almost every inch. I imagined the head of his cock invading her throat and tried not to moan.

Alma began to gag, and Wyatt released her so she could pull off. His dick was shiny with her spit. The sight of what my wife had done to him made me jerk even faster. Wyatt's face was flushed, his eyes feral with need. "Ride me, sweetheart!" he urged. My balls tightened when Alma moved to straddle him. She had an IUD, but I was still shocked she would fuck him without a condom. The faintest whimper escaped me as she lowered herself onto his hard, veiny dick. Her face revealed how desperate she was for it.

They both groaned once she had him deep inside her. She began riding him immediately, as if she couldn't help herself. Her tits bounced with each movement of her hips, and when Wyatt gave her ass a smack, she let out a playful shriek. I had to stop stroking for a few minutes; I was way too close to shooting my load then and there. Meanwhile, my wife fucked Wyatt hard and fast. He looked helpless beneath her, and I knew he was fighting back his own orgasm. Alma slowed only long enough to lean forward and give him a hungry kiss. "Baby, I can't get enough of your pussy!" he growled, his grip on her tightening.

Why hadn't I ever talked to her like that during sex? I wondered. She obviously loved it, for she went back to riding him with even more vigor. I started furiously masturbating again, panting from my need to climax, but the sounds of their lovemaking drowned me out. Wyatt reached between Alma's thighs and began rubbing her clit to make her come. She let out a low scream, sweat glistening on her skin. A blush spread from her face downward across her neck and chest.

"Come for me, Alma!" Wyatt begged. Like him, I ached to witness her pleasure. My wife, almost forty, now looked like a young woman, free and wild and unable to contain her bliss. She screamed again, far louder this time, then fell silent as she began shuddering and spasming. With her head thrown back, she surrendered to her orgasm, and Wyatt roared when he reached his own release.

I came then, too, never looking away from my wife and her lover while semen shot forth from my cock. As I kept jerking off, I had to muffle a groan but otherwise managed to stay quiet, and the two of them didn't notice me.

When Alma was spent, she slumped forward, as if she could no longer hold herself upright. Wyatt wrapped his arms around her, and I couldn't make out the words they whispered. Another fierce pang traveled through me while I watched him tenderly stroke her hair. She rested against him with her eyes closed and a satisfied smile on her lips.

I put my cock away and retrieved the flashlight before turning from the window. During the walk back to my truck, my heart continued racing. Over and over, my mind replayed what I'd just witnessed as if desperate to commit it all to memory. When I got home, I set about deleting the photos the private investigator had sent me. Then I stripped naked and waited for Alma in our bed.

She arrived at the house much earlier that night, just after ten. As soon as she entered the bedroom and walked over to greet me with her usual kiss, I grasped her wrist. Pulling her close, I whispered, "I want you."

Alma let out a startled laugh. "What's gotten into you, Sam? I need to take a shower before bed."

"Shower after I'm through with you."

I sensed how nervous Alma was while undressing, and once she'd joined me in the bed, I discovered she was actually shaking a little. My lips followed the same trail that Wyatt's had left on her skin: along her neck, which I made a point to mark, and then lower to her nipples. And lower yet until I was between her thighs. She tried to sit up, but I held her fast so I could lick and suck her clit. I could still smell the sex from earlier on her, and it made me even harder. Alma finally relaxed, surrendering to her pleasure until she came fiercely beneath my tongue.

She was still trembling when I entered her. With her arms and legs wrapped around me, she released those same wild cries I'd heard when Wyatt was inside her. As I fucked Alma relentlessly, lasting far longer than I ever imagined possible, I told her all kinds of filthy things. She moaned when I said I loved the feel of her warm, wet cunt around my cock.

And just before I made her climax for the fourth time that night, I brought my lips close to her ear and whispered, "I love you, Alma, and I always will."