My Wife's Second Extra-marital Cheating Experience

[jw_kk]

My wife’s second extra-marital cheating episode is one that I have insight on from multiple sources and perspectives. I’ve had “eye witness” reports on aspects of the event, and eventually she spilled some of the details, during a night of lovemaking, well over a decade after the event took place.

For context, this occurred about a year after the birth of our second child. KK had started to exhibit “normal” sex drive, and resumed sexual activity six or so months after giving birth, and had been steadily ramping back up to her usual appetite. She’d also gone back to work part-time, and life was generally getting back to normal. One of the aspects I recall is that with child number two, and breast-feeding, her bust size had increased substantially, and in a very, very sexy way - curvy, with wonderful cleavage, depending on what she was wearing, with sometimes very erect, sensitive nipples that she loved to have sucked, tweeked, and stimulated.

We had a Halloween event scheduled, for after trick-or-treating hours, and she was supposed to be one of three women co-hosting the party, at a friend’s house. At the last minute, our sitter cancelled on us, leaving us with the dilemma of not attending the party at all, or my wife attending solo, to fulfill her responsibility to co-host.

It was a simple, and short debate. I got “elected” to stay home with the kids, while she went to the party.

The evening became more tension-filled for me, as the original plan was to get in costume, take the two kids trick-or-treating (for those of you with experience, a “first Halloween” for a kid is a big deal), and leave the kids at home with the sitter. Given that plan had fallen through, I was disappointed, and could not get into the mood to don a costume. KK and I got into a bit of a tiff over that, but I held my ground. About an hour before we were to go trick-or-treating, she went to put her costume on - she was going as “Elvira,” which was pretty easy for her to pull off, especially with her dark hair, curves, and new-found bustiness…

While she was getting herself ready, I got the kids ready. She came into the kitchen, and I about fell over. She had pulled off a really, really hot “Elvira,” for certain. She had on a long, jet black wig, make-up perfectly done, even the Elvira-style eye thing, and she was wearing a layered, sheer black gown that was slit up the sides. The gown was inappropriately open-neck, and her cleavage was delicious. I couldn’t tell if, or what kind of bra she was wearing, and there was a hint of nipple showing through the thin material. She had on either stockings, or pantyhose, I couldn’t tell which, but they were sheer black. She was carrying a pair of stiletto heel pumps in the fingers of her left hand, but wearing modest flats, I suppose for comfort while walking around the neighborhood.

Just looking at her, my cock was immediately, and uncomfortably hard. Had the kids not been in the kitchen, I would have bent her over the counter and fucked her senseless on the spot.

I was pretty much speechless - she finally said, “Well, how do I look? Don’t even bother… if I have to ask, it just isn’t the same!” I gathered that she was still pissed at me for not wearing a costume. I kept trying to reinforce how wonderful she looked, but it didn’t seem to matter. She spent a few minutes bitching at me about not feeding the kids properly (whatever that meant), and adjusting parts of their costumes that I hadn’t managed to do according to her judgement. I figured it was a lost cause, and I’d just have to let her get over being pissed at me, and try to avoid confrontation.

We took the kids on the rounds of the neighborhood, and KK kept checking her watch, impatiently. About about an hour, the little one was getting really cranky and tired, and it was time for KK to head to the adult party, at our friend’s home, a short drive from our neighborhood.

At the house, I was dealing with getting the kids out of their costumes, the little one to bed, and those necessary parenting chores, while KK had gone to touch up her make-up, collect her purse and keys, and depart for the party. She didn’t even bother to kiss me goodbye - I just heard her yell “Bye now,” from the hallway, and hear the garage entry door open, then slam closed.

I was disappointed at having to stay home, my cock was hard, thinking about how much I just wanted to bend her over and fuck her, and wondering why she was pissed at me.

I had a beer, and watched TV. About two hours later, the phone rang. I answered the call, and it was Jay, the husband, part of a couple we’re friends with. He said, “Dude, your wife is really, really getting hammered! I’m kind of worried about her… Tammy’s (his wife) is trying to get her reined in, and managed to get some water, food, and Ibuprofen in KK, but I’m not sure it’s gonna work. Your wife seems really spun up about something. Anything we should know about?’

I was definitely alarmed, and concerned. I told Jay, “She left here pissed at me, more than she should’ve been, because I wouldn’t wear a costume when we took the kids trick-or-treating. That’s all I can think of. I’m stuck here with the kids, and it’s raining now. I can bundle them up and come get her if you think she’s so shit-faced that’s necessary?” Jay told me he didn’t know, but he didn’t think it was that far out of control just yet. He said, “I don’t know how much, or what she’s been drinking, but she can still walk, even in those fucking stripper shoes. She’s all touchy-feely with everybody, and way on the happy side, if you know what I mean.”

I said, “Yeah, I’ve seen that all before. Do me a favor. You and Tammy keep an eye on her for me. The minute you think she’s too shit-faced to stay, call me, and I’ll come get her. Just don’t let her drive. If she can stay at Jill and Tom’s (the homeowner’s place) that’s fine, I just don’t want her driving drunk. That would be fucked up, and if I have to, I’ll bundle the kids up and come get her.”

Jay agreed to keep an eye on her, “We’ll make sure she’s OK. I’m pretty sure Jill can park her in the guest room when the party winds down. I’ll call you later and let you know. Bye for now.”

He hung up the phone, and I was feeling pissed. Alcohol, especially too much alcohol has always had a negative impact on my wife. She’s fairly petite, and doesn’t metabolize it well. When I’m with her, drinking in social occasions, I can generally moderate, or help her moderate how much she drinks. When she’s on her own, not so much.

There was no good reason for her to go off on a bender, at least as far as I knew. I fiddled and fidgeted the whole night - the weather was getting worse, rain turning to light sleet, and I was concerned that she’d drive, drunk, in bad weather, and I was eventually pacing around the house, waiting on the phone to ring, with an update from Jay.

Finally, just before 2:00am, the phone rang. It was Tammy, Jay’s wife calling to let me know what was going on. I interrupted her, “Do I need to come get KK? Is she alright? You’re not letting her drive are you?” Tammy told me, “Man, calm down. Everything’s OK. We took her car keys, and Jill put KK and a few other party-hard people to bed about half an hour ago. It’s all good… fuck dude, your wife knows how to tie one on! Don’t worry about her, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but she’s gonna feel it tomorrow. Jill said she’ll call you sometime tomorrow when everyone’s up and around, and KK is headed home.”

I thanked Tammy for the call, made a little small-talk mostly out of courtesy, and told her I was exhausted from worrying, and that I was going to check on the kids and get some sleep. The call ended, and I felt some sense of relief, but I had a twinge of worry for some reason, about Tammy’s comment, “a few other party-hard people to bed.” I couldn’t put my finger on why, it just seemed off for some reason.

I eventually went to bed. The kids woke me up just before 7:00am, so it was a short, fitful night for me. Finally about noon, Jill called, and told me that KK had just left. I asked her, “Is she OK?” Jill said, “OK? I guess so. She’s pretty fucking hung over, so you might just put her back to bed for the day.” I responded, “Great… I’m so looking forward to that. She’s always such a joy to deal with in that state. Thanks for putting up with her. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to keep the reins on her.”

Jill said, “Yeah, it was a wild one. Maybe that Elvira costume got her in touch with her inner-witch? Anyway, give her a break, she’s still sort of a new mommy, and its been a while since she’s cut loose. Bye now.”

About ten minutes later, I heard the garage door opening. KK came in, and I chose to wait nonchalantly in the den, with the TV on, instead of in the hallway.

She was a wreck. My wife was carrying a grocery sack, and I could see part of the black wig hanging out of it, and one of the heels of her shoe poking up. She had her stockings, or pantyhose on (I still couldn’t tell which), standing in her nylon-covered feet. Her costume gown was still on, with what looked like beverage stains on the bosom, and maybe a little puke - I couldn’t really tell from a distance. Her make-up was a little bit of mess, smeared lip-stick, her mascara a little “runny,” and she had that wobbly, sort of pale-green look of someone who’s had way too much to drink, and is on the verge of a huge barf.

All she said was, “Hi. I’m sorry. I feel like shit. Are the kids OK? I’m going to bed.” It was all sort of in a flat, automatic monotone. It looked like she had a tear rolling out of the corner of one eye. I just said, “OK honey. Can I help you?”

Her only response was, “No. I just want to go to bed.” And with that, she went down the hall to our bedroom. I could hear the door shut. I decided to wait a while, and go check on her when I put the kids down for their afternoon nap.

Later that afternoon, after I got the kids down for their nap, I went quietly to our bedroom door. I cracked it open, trying not to make a sound. KK was lying on the bed, completely naked, atop the sheet. The top sheet, comforter and spread were crumpled up on the floor at the foot of the bed, and the ceiling fan was on full blast. From the doorway, it looked like she was sweating a little, and there was the small plastic trashcan from the bathroom at the bedside - I suppose for puking in. There was a partial glass of water on her nightstand, a bottle of Ibuprofen, and a prescription bottle that I recognized as Ambien. The pediatrician we use had OK’d it when she was having difficultly getting good sleep, while breastfeeding, because it isn’t readily transferred via breast milk.

She was dead to the world, snoring away. I went on into the bedroom, and left the door cracked open behind me, so I could hear the kids if they woke up. I went and put my hand on my wife’s forehead, and she was warm, probably as a result of the hangover, but not feverish. Her only response was to roll onto her side, away from me.

I went into the bathroom, and her gown was partly in the wicker trash basket, partly hanging out onto the floor. I thought that was odd, so I plucked it out of the basket. Indeed, there was a little puke residue on one “boob,” and stains that I couldn’t readily identify on the front of the gown. It also smelled a little of cigarette smoke, and maybe pot. I went to drop it back in the trash basket, then saw stockings or hose at the bottom of it. I put the gown onto the bathroom counter, and pulled the nylon out of the basket - it was a pair of sheer black pantyhose - in which the crotch had been torn out, roughly, and completely. I lifted them to my nose, and took a whiff - the scent of pussy, musky and potent was there, along with the scent of cum… the nylon at the crotch and inside thighs was discolored, but it was hard to tell for certain if it was a cum-stain, or what. Just the scent was recognizable. I shoved all of it, pantyhose, and gown back into the trash can, and found myself hard.

The plastic grocery bag KK was carrying when she came home was tossed into the corner, near her dressing table. I picked it up, and examined the contents. Her wig, and her heels, and that was it. I took the wig out, and it too smelled, and there were definitely crusty deposits on parts of it, near the “bangs” and the lower parts near the neckline. My cock was now raging hard.

It was pretty clear that my wife, at some point the prior night, had gotten a good fucking from someone. I had that odd feeling of being slightly nauseated, excessively aroused, and pissed off, all simultaneously.

I shoved the wig back into the grocery bag, and tossed it all back into the corner. My developing reaction in the moment was two-fold; I felt like I wanted to go into the bedroom, and shove my cock into my wife, in every hole, her mouth, her pussy, and her ass, and fuck her into submission - the other component was confrontation combined with anger. I held onto the bathroom counter for a few moments, trying to bring all that raging emotion into check.

Finally, feeling a little calmer, but still impacted by a raging hard-on, I went back into the bedroom. My wife was on her back, legs apart, snoring. I went to the bedside, still fighting the urge to rip my clothes off and fuck her savagely. I bent down a little - there was the remnant of a bite mark, near her left nipple! I scanned her nude body, and saw another latent bite mark, slightly pink, still reasonably distinct on her inner thigh… more clear evidence of her indiscretion.

My head was pounding, and I felt like there was a buzzing colony of bees inside it or something. My cock was raging hard, pressed against my boxers and jeans, and painfully hard.

I heard an indistinct noise, and when I finally recognized it, the little one was evidently waking up from his nap. I backed away from the bed, left my wife lying in naked, snoring slumber, and left the bedroom quietly, closing the door behind me.

Later, early in the evening, I could hear noises coming from the master bedroom, and I went down the hall to listen through the closed door. I heard the faint sound of the shower running, and figured that my wife was up. I went on with the usual routine, waiting with some anxiety to see what would transpire when she was finally up and around.

The phone rang, and it was Jill, calling to tell KK that she’d left her purse behind. I said, “She’s just now getting around - do you want me to have her call you back, or just give her the message?” Jill said, “No need sweetie, I just wanted her to know it was here. I’ll drop it off tomorrow, OK?” I told her, “That’ll be OK - I don’t think she needs it tonight. Did anything else happen last night? Jay and Tammy said it was quite a party.” I was fishing… Jill said, “Well, there was a lot of drinking, a lot of smoking, and and lot of dancing. People got pretty crazy. I had to host a few people like KK, Mark, Amy and Adam last night - they were too wasted to drive, or do much of anything else. That’s about it. Gotta run… bye-bye.” Amy and Adam are a couple we know, so I recognized them as likely stay-overs, as they usually drink too excess, and stay too long at most parties. “Mark” drew a blank for me - I didn’t have any recall of a “Mark” in the social circle associated with this party, or the usual guests.

I hung up, and about that time, KK came into the den. She said, “Who was what on the phone?” I paused for a moment, and said, “Oh, it was Jill. She called to tell you that you left your purse, and that she’d drop it off tomorrow.”

My wife frowned a little, and said, “Fuck. My phone’s in there.” I said, its the weekend, why do you need it?” My wife just sort of glared at me, that “none of your business” look.

I said, “I’m going to start dinner in a few minutes… any special requests?” She had a blank look and said, “No, I’ll do it. I’m going to make breakfast for dinner. Did you feed the kids already?”

I told her that I was just getting ready to do that, and I’d take care of it if she was going to cook. I asked her, “If you make pancakes, make a couple of extra for the kids to eat for desert. They’ll like that!”

I fed the kids dinner, and tried to make small-talk with my wife in between that and her efforts to cook. She seemed very distracted, and at one point got annoyed with me, “Be quiet - you’re distracting me, and you made me burn this fucking pancake!” She flipped the charred pancake into the sink, and went back to another attempt. I decided not to keep pressing her for conversation.

By the time I finished feeding the kids, she’d managed to assemble a couple of plates of scrambled eggs, sausages, and pancakes, along with a little stack of extras for the kids. We ate together, pretty much in silence - KK was unable to finish her plate, and said, "I’m going to take some more Ibuprofen, and go back to bed. I feel like shit!” With that, she got up, left her plate on the table, and on the way out of the kitchen said, “Be a dear, and take care of this crap - I just don’t feel like it tonight.”

That was it for the evening. I dealt with the kids, and chores, and went to bed about 10:00pm. KK was in her pajamas, sound asleep, presumably having taken another Ambien, and was unresponsive.

I wasn’t able to sleep, and I lifted the hem of her pajama shirt, and gently worked my hand up her thigh, parted her legs, and traced the outline of her pussy lips with my fingertips. I managed to probe her pussy a bit, and withdrew my hand, taking a sniff - she seemed to be soap-and-water fresh, no hint of anything unusual. I was still getting intermittent raging hard-ons, imagining what must have transpired at the party. I lifted her pajama shirt to expose her pussy, and one breast, and kneeling beside her, I jacked myself off, looking at her, and thinking about her fucking some strange guy, probably this “Mark” dude, who I didn’t know or seem to recall. I shot my load into my own hand, trying not to get any on my wife or the bed. After I got my balance, I went to the bathroom and wiped the cum off with tissues, and washed up. I went back to bed, as I felt some relief after jacking off, and I finally went to sleep.

The next morning I got up to deal with the kids, while KK still seemed to be in an “Ambien haze.” She finally was up and around at nearly 10:00am, but not talkative or otherwise much engaged. She was interacting with the kids when there was a knock on the door. I answered it, to find Jill there. I invited her in, and in the process of Jill declining, saying she was in a hurry, and just dropping off KK’s purse, my wife nearly knocked me down to grab it from Jill. She closed the front door behind me, and remained on the front steps with Jill - I couldn’t hear them, but I could see through the sidelight that an animated conversation was in progress. KK kept looking back at the door, like she was expecting me to step outside. I decided to go play with the kids, while whatever was transpiring took place.

A few minutes later, my wife came inside, and I noticed her phone was in one hand, her purse in the other. She put the purse on the entry hall table, and without a word, hurried off down the hall toward the bedroom with her phone. It was very, very suspicious behavior, to say the least.

I kept playing with the kids, and about ten minutes later, KK came back into the den. After a while, I excused myself for a bathroom break. I found her phone on the nightstand, charging, and decided to spy, and take a look. I found that she’d locked the phone! It was asking for a PIN, which I didn’t readily know. I decided to not pursue trying to “break in,” and went for a piss. I was hard again! Trying to piss with a hard-on is never easy, and after I managed to squeeze one out, and clean up the mess, I went back to the den, thinking about confronting her.

Good judgement got the better of me, and I left it alone. Over the rest of the weekend, things seemed to level out, and get pretty much back to normal. KK got over acting pissed off at me, and her distant behavior returned to normal. I was fixated, obsessed with the thoughts of her fucking another guy, fucking around on me, cheating… I wasn’t really pissed off, or angry, mostly obsessively horny.

At a point, during dinner one evening, she apologized to me about the bender - she told me that she was disappointed in herself, and that she had been looking forward to the two of us going to the party. She asked me why I didn’t try to find another sitter, and I told her that I had just guessed it was too last-minute, on Halloween, and that there wasn’t any hope of finding someone. I just let it pass, wondering if she would ever tell me what happened that night.

A few weeks later, I was out on the golf course one afternoon. When we finished the round, I went to the clubhouse for a drink with one of our foursome, an attorney that is loosely in our social circle, David. We had a couple of drinks, and he brought up the subject of “Jill’s Halloween party.” In the course of that conversation, he said that it was too bad I missed it - a wild time was apparently had by all. David is mostly an infrequent, loose acquaintance. He’s only met KK once, very briefly, and I doubt would remember or readily recognize her. In his conversation, he said, “There was this one hot fucking Elvira-chic at the party - she was crazy! Loaded and I think she was stoned. I danced with her, and she grabbed my cock! The crazy bitch had her titties out at one point, shaking ‘em in some dude’s face out on the patio…” He didn’t realize he was talking about my wife. “Whoever she was, wow! What a slut! She was fucking hot as hell though. I think she hooked up with some other dude in a back bedroom. There was some kind of shit-storm, because the dude’s wife caught ‘em - something about Elvira giving the chic’s husband a blowjob… I left about that time, ‘cause things were getting way outta control - in my business, can’t handle shit with the cops… crazy times man, crazy times!”

I was stunned - sitting there at the club table, again the combination of angry and horny, with a raging hard-on, listening to David talk about this “hot slut,” who happened to be my wife. I was running a billion thoughts in my mind, the stained costume gown, the ripped pantyhose, the cum-crusted wig, the bite marks on her tit and thigh, the strange, distant, angry behavior, and now David’s recall of the wild party, and “hot fucking Elvira-chic.”

I was in a fog, and just tried to get through the rest of the conversation cordially. David excused himself, headed home to dinner, and I just sat, still hard, and feeling confused. I waited until my erection went away, then hurried home. I was feeling horny all night, and fortunately, KK was in a relatively good mood. I managed to engage with her, and we had great sex later that night - admittedly I was imagining this strange “Mark” dude fucking the shit out of my wife the whole time.

A little more than ten years later, after we had become immersed in the hot wife thing, on a Halloween night, late, after we’d come home from a party, where I knew she had hooked up for a quickie, she disclosed the whole truth to me and confessed to her drunken fuck-fest with “Mark.”

She had me on my back, riding my cock, fucking me with her wet, hot, cum-filled pussy, while she confessed to me the events of that long-ago Halloween night.

She wasn’t able to do a “blow by blow,” because she said that she’d had so much to drink that she may have actually blacked out at one point. She remembered sucking the guy’s cock - after Jill had taken her out of action and tried to put her to bed, and the guy’s wife walking in on them right as he was blowing his load in her face. She also remembered having to tear her pantyhose open, so he could fuck her - she said she was so drunk she couldn’t figure out to take them off, so she ripped them with a nail file from her purse. The last thing she said she remembered was the guy, “Mark,” jacking off onto her tongue. That made me cum.

She didn’t remember much after that, other than waking up sick, hungover, and feeling used. My wife apologized for being “such a terrible person,” and I assured her that the past is the past. I decided not to let on that I had been aware of her fucking around at the time, and just let it be at that.

[OZCPL]

I have experienced being cheated on and lied to.
If she was angry with you prior to the party it could indicate that she was about to do something she felt was wrong and wanted, in her own mind, to blame you for it. If she wanted to meet someone at the party she cold herself arrange for the baby sitter to not be able to make it, so that you would have to stay home. It wouldn't be the first time that trick had been pulled and having tried extra marital sex once it would look more attractive the second time.

She knew you wouldn't be able to get another sitter, but a good move by her, to put it back on you, that's how it usually goes with other cheaters.

Thanks for the hot story excellently written.

[Toolkeeper]

Excellent recollection read on th week of Halloween.