Spoiled For Choice Pt. 02

Chapter 1

I put my hand on the bedroom door to push it open, but just as I'm about to rush inside and pull him away from her, to protect my wife, I stop. How fucking stupid am I? She doesn't want my protection. No, she brought this man into our bed.

If I'm not going to be man enough to walk in there and stop this, I should just get the fuck out of here. But I can't tear my eyes away from the spectacle. Amy is making noises I've never heard from her in the twenty years we've been together. Looking at the pounding she's taking, I'm not surprised.

As I look in through the two inch crack in the door, I see that Steve has one foot planted on the bed, while he remains kneeling on the other one. He's feeling my wife's ass with both hands, squeezing her soft cheeks and pulling them apart as he looks down at her puckered little ass hole. I used to love doing that, looking at my cock slide in and out of her moist hole underneath.

Her brother-in-law reaches one hand forward to grab a fistful of my wife's blonde hair, and yanks her head back roughly, rougher than I would have ever dreamed of being with her. Her back arches as he pulls her hair harder, while continuing to slam into her pussy. She's grunting and whimpering, and I know my wife well enough to see that she's loving it.

I look at Steve and feel an intense hatred. Is he the reason Amy has been withdrawing from me? I think the answer to that question is pretty obvious right now. Then my own body betrays me. Despite the anger, rage, the almost crippling jealousy and shock I'm feeling, I also feel my cock harden. I'm disgusted with myself.

I know I have no right to feel a lot of these things, I'm no better. I've been sleeping with her mother for several weeks now. But Amy is still my wife, and she's cheating on me in front of my very own eyes.

"Harder," she groans, and Steve obliges, releasing her hair and holding her hips in place with both hands to keep her steady as he somehow manages to ram her with even more force.

I'm standing in our hallway, looking at this younger man pummel my wife's pussy so hard, it'll never be the same again. He's ruining my beautiful wife, defiling her, and it's making me sick and aroused in equal measure.

Then something happens that cuts me to my core. Steve gives her what I have never been able to before. She climaxes. I've never seen her body tremble uncontrollably like this, her mouth open in a scream but her voice a silent vacuum.

He grunts like a fucking animal behind her as he carries on relentlessly, but he's building up now, he won't last much longer. I can see the trickles of sweat on his muscular back, and dripping down his face onto my wife.

He slaps her ass hard, then another as he growls, before finally collapsing on top of her, flattening her on the mattress. He's grinding his root into her, rutting her like a beast, and mashing his ripped stomach against her big perfect ass. He's cumming inside my wife, changing how I will look at her forever.

--

I step back from the door as quietly as possible, my throbbing cock matching my pounding heart beat for beat, and I creep back downstairs in silence. I feel like I'm an intruder in my own home. I'm in a daze, but I'm lucid enough to realize that I don't want them to know they've been caught. I don't know what I'm going to do with this heartbreaking discovery yet, but whatever that may be, I'm keeping this to myself for now.

I stop at the bottom of the staircase for a few seconds, trying to regain my senses. Surely Steve will leave soon, and I don't want him to see me.

Amy wouldn't have been expecting me home for at least another hour. I've never left a night out with Jeff this early, but Jake's soccer practice is starting an hour earlier than usual tomorrow morning, so I don't want to be hungover. I don't think she knew about the schedule change.

I sneak through the house like a ghost, then opening the back door with all the precision of a surgeon, albeit with a few beers inside him, I slip outside and move towards the garage, disappearing into the darkness inside. Less than five minutes later, I hear the click of our front door closing, followed by footsteps down the driveway. Then he comes into my view from the garage window, and I see him casually walk out my gate onto the street, his hands in his fucking pockets, not a care in the world. He has just nailed his sexy older sister-in-law I suppose, I would be delighted with myself if I was in his shoes.

I don't want to go inside too soon, so I use my time in hiding to try to process this, to make sense of it. How long have they been doing this? Something about how they were having sex, they didn't seem like first time lovers. They were familiar with each other, this was not the first time, far from it. No, this has been going on for a while.

I feel my anger bubble up again, but I manage to calm down with a few deep breaths. I need to think about how I'm going to handle this with Amy. If I confront her, what will happen? Things could spiral and my marriage could quite possibly be over. Do I want that? Well on one hand, maybe, it all makes sense now why she has become so distant with me, any physical intimacy between us a distant memory. Why would I want to continue on like that? But my gut reaction is no, I don't want it to be over. I can't do that to the kids, and as much as I detest her right now, she's still my wife, the love of my life. I don't want to give up on that.

I just need to get through tonight, sleep on it, and tomorrow is a new day. I'm not going to do anything rash and end up regretting it.

Checking my watch, I see that ten minutes have passed since he left. That's long enough, I think, as I leave the garage and make my way towards the back door and step into my home again.

--

Our bedroom is in darkness when I open the door, and I see Amy's outline under the comforter. I strip down to my boxers while keeping the light off, then I go into the en-suite to use the toilet and brush my teeth. She's either pretending to be asleep, or so shocked at the close call of almost getting caught that she's not able to speak.

The dampness from the steam hits me as soon as I open the bathroom door. She took a shower, I realize, and sure enough I see the fogged up mirror when I turn on the light. Has the mirror been fogged up when I got home before, on other nights? I can't remember, and I'm annoyed with myself for being so unobservant. What else have I missed? Has there been other things, signs of what's been going on that I was too blind to see?

I take a long piss, and as the stream hits the water I find myself wondering if he pissed in this toilet tonight too. I've never felt such jealously before, and the mix of emotions coming with it are taking me by surprise. I'm sad and hurt, I feel sick and angry, but I'm also ashamed to admit that I'm turned on, which I never would have expected. I don't think I've wanted sex with Amy this much since we met. I'm so aroused, I'm hardening up by the time I finish pissing. I shake off the last few drops, but instead of pulling up my boxers, I drop them to the tiled floor.

When I climb into bed beside her, she still doesn't say anything. I slide across the bed until I'm so close I can smell the fresh shampoo from her damp hair. The image of Steve fucking her on this very bed less than an hour ago is all I can see, and it makes my blood boil.

I reach out and put my hand on her hip, and I can feel that she's wearing just her panties. She must have jumped into bed in a hurry when she heard me downstairs, not having time to put on her pajama shorts that she normally wears.

"Oh, hey," she says, pretending she's just after waking. "Did you have a nice night?"

I don't answer. Instead I slip my hand into her panties, down the front, the thin material stretched on the back of my hand up to my wrist.

"What are you doing?" she says, startled.

"Can a man not touch his wife?" I say, pushing my fingers between her legs. She has it completely bald. I wonder does he like that, does she keep it like that for him?

"What's gotten into you Nick?" she says, and I can tell she's shocked.

I slide closer to her, my hard cock now pressing into her panty covered ass.

"Nick, are you drunk? What's going on?"

"No I'm not fucking drunk," I snap back, as I take my hand out of her underwear and kneel up on the bed.

I grab her panties and pull them down and off over her feet. She doesn't resist as I position myself between her legs, spreading them as she lies on her back. I take hold of my shaft and try to guide it to her hole in the dark, but I'm too high up on the first attempt to get inside her. I feel her fingers push my tip down to her entrance, then suddenly I feel the sopping wetness surround my cock.

I don't hesitate as I drive it fully into her hot pussy in one hard shove, and she can't suppress a grunt as it knocks the air out of her lungs. Is it his cum I'm feeling, is that why she's so wet? Maybe she washed it out in the shower. This is so fucking humiliating, but at the same time it's making me more horny than I can ever remember. A part of me feels embarrassed, almost like a third wheel. Has she fallen for him, and feels nothing for me now. Is she just tolerating this?

Then I feel anger and defiance, and I start to fuck her hard with long fast thrusts. The headboard slams against the wall, but she doesn't say anything. She would always have told me to slow down in the past if that happened. This time, I give it to her even harder. I feel like I'm trying to reclaim my wife's pussy.

I reach up and grab her neck. I don't squeeze it too tight, just a firm grip, pinning her to the bed.

"Yes," she whispers, barely audible, but I heard it. Then I feel her hand on my back.

I've never fucked her like this in all the years we've been together. But seeing her with Steve earlier changed things. She's not the perfect little princess I had her built up to be in my head. He was treating her like a whore, and she fucking loved it. It's time I got some of that too.

"You like that? Huh?" I say, while managing to thrust just a bit harder.

She doesn't say anything. The only sound is the headboard and our heavy breathing.

"When did you shave your cunt?"

"Ages ago," she whispers back a few seconds later. Then I feel her other hand on my bare ass, and she pulls me deeper into her.

When she does that, I lean down and search for her mouth with mine. I can't remember the last time we kissed, but when our mouths connect it's like magic. Making out with her while we fuck just magnifies everything. I shove my tongue deep into her mouth, and she returns it by doing the same in mine, almost reaching down my throat.

"When did you?" she whispers then.

"Not long," I say. I shaved down there a few weeks ago because I wanted to impress her mother, but I keep that bit to myself.

I'm getting to the point where I know I can't hold off the inevitable for much longer. And I'm not even going to try. I have one intention right now, and that's to dump my cum into it's rightful place, inside my wife. And she is MY wife, no matter who else she spreads her legs for. She might be letting someone else have this pussy, but it's mine, and I'm taking it back.

I don't bother telling her I'm about to blow. I pass the point of no return and give her one final, brutal thrust, then the first jet shoots out of my pisshole. I feel her body convulse and shake, and her pussy tightens around my ejaculating prick like a vice. She's coming on my cock for the first time, no exaggerated moaning or faking, just a real intense orgasm, as I continue to empty my balls deep into her pussy. Her second load in there tonight.

We stay in this position for a while in silence, catching our breath, and finally I roll off her onto my back. We don't say another word, and sleep quickly takes me.

Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning in an empty bed, and surprisingly, I don't think I've slept that soundly in months. I hear Amy and the kids downstairs as I lie there, the events of last night coming back to me like a bad dream. Did all that really happen? The vision of my wife and her brother-in-law is seared into my mind. But the sex Amy and I had after, it was the best of my life.

I climb out of bed and go downstairs. Amy, Jake and Chloe are sitting at the counter drawing.

"Hi Dad, look what I drew. It's you, and Mom, and Jakey and me, look," Chloe says cheerfully.

"Wow, good girl Chloe," I say, ruffling her hair as I come over to see.

"Good morning," Amy says to me, and smiles at me in a way I haven't seen in years. She stands up and comes around the counter, then gives me a kiss on the cheek. But not a normal, run of the mill peck on the cheek. I can feel the trace of her saliva on my face after it. Interesting.

"Eeew, gross," Jake says, and Chloe bursts out laughing.

I know in that instant that I cannot lose this, regardless of what Amy has been doing behind my back. I've been no saint either. But things are going to be different from now on.

"You ready for soccer practice buddy," I say to Jake.

"Yup, can't wait Dad," he says with his usual enthusiasm. He's already dressed in his full soccer kit, ready to go.

"It's an hour early this week, I had no idea," Amy says as she pours out my cereal, and all four of us sit down to eat together, the sordid events of last night a million miles away.

I look at my wife and admire how beautiful and sexy she is. I've always thought it, but this morning it strikes me differently. The desire I feel for her now, I've never felt anything like it before. She drifted away from me these last few years, and part of me despises her for what she's done. She may have been whoring herself out to her sister's husband, but she's my wife, and I'm not letting her go that easy.

Things ARE going to change from now on though. It's like I've awoken a part of me I didn't even know I had. I've been a meek pushover for far too long, and I'm beginning to think that's been a big part of the problem. When I took control last night, for once, even if it was a result of rage and embarrassment, Amy responded in a way I've never seen her before. Did it take seeing her cheating to make me want to fight for her? Being honest, maybe.

I've realized a few things. Firstly, I miss and need sex more than I thought. I've loved my Wednesday mornings with Rose, and I have every intention of keeping them up. Sex with her is different, like there is nothing I could do that would surprise her.

Secondly, I'm starting to figure out that I haven't been the man Amy needs. She doesn't want someone who waits around for her to make a move. No, she want's someone to take what he wants, when he wants it. That's crystal clear. My only fear is I've made that discovery too late, for both her and me.

Having sex with two different women in the space of a few days has made me realize something. Life is too short to miss out on fresh pussy, and I intend to not waste another minute.

--

After Jake's soccer practice, I spend the rest of my Saturday pretty much zoned out, my mind working overtime trying to make sense of everything. If only I had caught Amy and Steve before I actually went to Rose, then I could have the moral high ground, even if only to dampen my guilt. But I went to my mother-in-law thinking I had a faithful wife at home, I can't get away from that. I can tell myself that Amy drove me to it by being so disinterested in me. It's weak excuse, I could and should have tried harder with her. But it's difficult to be rational when you catch you're wife taking it from behind in your own bed.

If Amy had put out every so often, I never would have strayed from her. But now that's I've gotten a taste for it, I want more. My visit to her mother next week is going to be extra sweet, now that I know my wife's little secret.

--

Amy brought Chloe to a birthday party at a school friend's house today, so at least I know she wasn't with Steve. But I can't live my life worrying if she's with him every time I leave the house.

I go into the shop at 2pm to check on things even though I'm not meant to be working today, I try to take most Sunday's off. Sandra is in charge when I'm not around, and she runs a tight ship, I can always rely on her. Today is no different, even though it's packed with customers when I get there. She has everything running like clockwork. But I grab an apron and get stuck in anyway.

As I work, my mind goes to some very strange places. Is Steve the only one she's been fucking? Half the town could have been up on her for all I know, maybe even some of the customers. Coming in here, laughing at me before they go to my house to fuck my wife's brains out, in my bed. Amy is not the woman I thought, so who the fuck knows, maybe she's the town bike and everyone's had a go.

I feel humiliated, but I realize at the same time that imagining all the men in town wanting to screw my wife is really a fantasy that's turning me on. My mind is so messed up, I feel like the line between my fantasy and reality is blurring.

Then just as I manage to clear my head and focus on work, who walks into the shop only Steve. I freeze. He hasn't come in here in months. He prefers the coffee from one of the big chains apparently, the fucking dickhead. So what the hell is he doing here now? Is this just a coincidence, or did he see me last night and is here now to test the water?

He looks into the back to where I am, and nods his head, merely acknowledging he sees me. I just stare at him, showing no emotion. I wasn't prepared for this, seeing him so soon. But I'm not going to look away. He waves now, but I remain still, only realizing after that I'm clenching a knife tightly in my hand, which he could clearly see, as I stop in the middle of making a sandwich for a customer. My stare burns through him, and he eventually looks away first.

Eva is serving him, and I see him check out her ass while she makes his coffee, a fucking smirk appearing on his face as he looks her up and down when her back is turned. That increases my anger to red hot. I feel protective of her, even though I've had the exact same thoughts I imagine he's having right now. But it's different for me, I tell myself.

I look at Steve and remember all the conversations I've had with him. Was he screwing my wife the whole time? Even if he wasn't, he fucking wanted to, or was trying to, the motherfucker. He'll pay for this. One way for another, he'll pay. And at that moment, it becomes clear to me exactly how.

The busy lunch time period eases off eventually, so I check in with Sandra and the rest of the staff before I leave. When I get back to my car I take out my phone and begin to send a text.

Hey Rach, just thinking about you. We should catch up soon....

--

When I arrive home on Sunday evening, I help Amy make dinner and then when we get the kids to bed for the night, we sit down to watch some TV together, just like any other night. And like any other night, she says goodnight when she gets up to go to bed. I usually follow her up a while after, but not tonight.

"Not so fast," I say, catching her arm as she walks past me, then reach up with my other hand to cup her ass.

"I'm tired Nick, it's been a long day," she starts to say, but I cut her off.

"I wasn't asking."

Her smile disappears and her eyes widen, she looks a little shocked. But she doesn't say anything when I stand up. I'm not rough with her, but she knows I'm serious.

"Pull them down," I say, and she knows I mean her leggings.

She hesitates for a few seconds, but then does as she's told. She peels the black material down over her ass, and kneels down on the sofa, leaning over the cushions at the back, not uttering a single word.