A Gentleman's Folly: The Tainted Series

by T. L. Tate

  A Gentleman's Folly

  The Tainted Series

  By T.L. Tate

  Copyright 2017 by T.L. Tate

  Distributed by Smashwords

  Cover Photo Copyright of NeonShot/Shutterstock

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  A Gentleman's Folly

  The Tainted Series

  The tablecloth was blotched in several places as a torrent of tears rained down her cheeks. Her sharp cheekbones did nothing from stopping them from rolling down her face. I sat before her, unmoved and uncaring, as she put on her little show.

  "Jake, please. You don't understand. I'm really, so very sorry. I fucked up, okay? I'm a fuck up. I'm sorry."

  Rachel, the love of my life—my wife—my best friend, was desperately trying to appeal to the gentleman I was before she screwed me over. Up until the last 48 hours I would've fallen on every word she said like it was gospel. I trusted her with every fiber of my being, although she gave me very little reason to do so. Since we've been together, I've done my utmost to make sure that she was always taken care of. Rachel lived a life of perfuse satisfaction and elegance because I worked myself to the bone to make sure that she could. But as it turned out, she had grown bored. Apparently, being a reliable and good husband was too predictable to be considered exciting. She started flirting with a guy at her office and just four months ago until...hmm...last night, they were having an affair.

  I initially found out because her sister, Toni, confronted her and ended up recording the illicit confession. Toni was a caring, hardworking and gorgeous woman who constantly thought about others before herself. So when she found out she gave her sister a chance to tell me. Only she didn't. Instead, on the day before my 30th birthday, and the day after I found out I got a huge promotion at work, Rachel embarked on a salacious journey to Sin City with her little fuck-partner. The cover story that she told me was that her boss forced her into a last minute conference in San Francisco. It was only after sitting in my darkened house, depressed, that Toni reemerged and played the recording of Rachel's confession.

  It destroyed me. I lay on the pyre, built from the piercing words of her confession, and allowed it to burn away the softness, love and naivety that were the pillars of my previous self. What remained was a hardened and scarred man. I could still feel remnants of the love I felt for her before but now it was muted. It was like it was screaming behind several closed doors titled: Fuck you, Blow me, and Get the fuck out!

  Even looking at her was hard. The sight of her twisted face as she squirted out tears, which I seriously doubted were genuine, made my blood boil. I closed my eyes, refusing to watch her act. I wanted to tell her to fuck off and toss her out of the damn house...but I didn't. Of course, I wasn't completely innocent in all of this. Perhaps she had a point. Just because she was one person when we met didn't mean that she couldn't change. Perhaps I was guilty in not attempting to understand her and just continued to look at her with rose-colored glasses. But on that...if she would've just talked to me one of the gazillion times that I asked, we could've worked it out. She didn't have to cheat on me.

  Cheating...hmm. Well, that was the rub. Wasn't it? Technically, I'm no better than she is. When I found out about the affair I fell into a dark hole and Toni was the one that pulled me out of it. But she didn't do it with just words. She did it with her body. I slept with Rachel's little sister. She asked me to use her and I did so with abandoned. At the time I figured, if Rachel wanted a jerk then I could be a jerk and I would start by fucking my little sister-in-law. But I didn't just fuck her. I didn't just abuse her tight pussy. I didn't just jam my fat cock down her throat. I took her unspoiled and unused pussy and marked it with my seed. I made her mine and I loved every second of it.

  I could still clearly see her face as she came on my cock over and over again. I still felt her teeth as she bit down on my shoulder. The sheets we soiled with our shared climaxes were still in the laundry basket. As a matter-of-fact, not even 12 hours ago, in this very room, I painstakingly taught her how to take my entire cock in her mouth and down her throat. She took to it like a fish to water. It was hard to believe that 24 hours ago, Toni was a virgin. For one, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Second, she was a horrible flirt...to me, at least. But it was true. She forced my cock to rip thru her hymen and didn't stop until she used me to cum.

  So, yeah I didn't have much of a leg to stand on and for those reasons I didn't kick her to the curb the moment she stepped foot in the house. It was my folly, but I didn't think it was fair when I also crossed the line.

  I opened my eyes when I felt the air move around me. She was leaning over the small table in our kitchen, reaching for my face. "Please, believe me, Jake. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

  I raised my hand and used the back of it to stop her hand before she was able to reach my face. It was hard to maintain my good-guy and fair play stance when I was still overflowing with anger, rage and pain. I growled, "You didn't mean to hurt me? That's a lie. If you didn't want to hurt me then why would you fuck a man in our own bed? Huh? Why would you go on a trip with him on my birthday weekend? Huh? Why would you only fess up because I caught you in a lie? Huh?"

  She hadn't prepared an answer for those questions and it showed. She sank back in her chair, her mouth working but no sound emitting.

  I could easily recall the slew of texts that came from her this morning.

  It started with her sending me a picture of some lingerie she bought. She claimed it was for me but in truth, it was for her fucking boyfriend.

  Happy birthday, Jake! Sorry I can’t be there. I bought something at the boutique here that I think you’ll enjoy.

  I showed Toni the message and we both came to the same conclusion. But by that point, the damage had been done. I responded back.

  It looks sexy. Thanks for the b-day wishes. Enjoy Vegas.

  It was the "Enjoy Vegas" that I sent to let her know she was busted. But she was so foolish that she responded without sticking to her cover story.

  Thanks, Jake. I will. See you soon. Love ya!

  Maybe on some level, and in her own way, she did actually love me because when she realized that I knew the truth she sent a flurry of unanswered texts. I could recall them by heart.

  What do you mean? I'm in San Francisco, remember?

  Have you forgotten?

  Hello? Jake?

  Hello?

  ...

  Jake, respond.

  Hello?

  Don't be a dick, Jake.

  Jake, honey. Is everything okay? You're not responding.

  I love you.

  ...

  Jake?

  Jake, baby. Respond please. I'm worried.

  Jake? Hello?

  Baby?

  I love you. Please respond.

  ...

  ...

  ...

  This was when she started call
ing. I didn't answer and her calls went straight to voicemail.

  Jake, I just called you. Answer your phone, baby. Please.

  More phone calls with long, rambling messages.

  Jake, I'm sorry that I lied.

  Please answer me. I can explain.

  Jake? Sweetie, please. I'm sorry. I can explain.

  Please just answer your phone.

  Jake, I'm sorry. I'm coming home. It's over. I swear. I'm coming back home to you, baby. I'm sorry.

  I didn't read any of those messages or check my voicemail until after Toni left. Despite our fling, she claimed that she didn't want to get in between Rachel and I. And as she left she kissed me on the cheek and smiled brightly.

  "Don't be too hard on my idiot sister, bro."

  I didn't want to lie to Toni so I didn't respond.

  She understood my reluctance. She placed her hand on my chest as her eyes softened. "Thank you for last night and this morning. It was fun."

  I should be the one thanking you. I wouldn't have made it last night without you."

  She chuckled. "I bet you would've made it just fine."

  "Hmm, maybe. But I wouldn't have had the courage to do what I need to do now."

  She raised a pretty eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

  "Divorce your sister."

  Her mouth dropped open. Divorce was the only option I could come up with. She cheated on me and I cheated on her in response. Just to be clear, cheating really isn't a solid bedrock of a successful marriage.

  She practically bowled me over when she pressed herself against me. There was urgency in her voice. "Jacob! No! You can't do that!"

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. My eyes were sad but resolute. "I'm sorry, T. I can't stay with her if I don't trust her and if I can't trust myself. I think it's better if we split now."

  She pawed at my shirt. "You can't. You can't! Please!"

  Her eyes were wild. "Toni", I pleaded.

  "No!" She wasn't having any of it. "No, you absolutely can't divorce my sister. Sure she fucked up but it was a foolish choice on her part. She loves you, Jacob. You know she does. I'll do anything if you promise not to divorce Rachel. Just please think this through. Please give her a second chance. If you don't then you'll regret you. You know you will."

  It was hard to argue with Toni, especially considering that I took her virginity last night...well this morning.

  I nodded reluctantly, "I'll see what I can do." That was the best I could offer her and she knew it.

  She sighed, "Okay. Thank you. Just think about it."

  "I will. Promise. I won't do anything rash."

  Smiling, she kissed me again, this time on the lips. The taste of her cherry lip gloss was delicious on my lips. "Thank you, Jacob."

  Before she left, she turned to me and blew me one final kiss. "Thanks again for last night and this morning. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I feel more confident in finding someone just for me. Thanks, again."

  I watched her walk, bowlegged, from my house and climb into her Tesla. She told me last night that she didn't plan on getting between Rachel and I and I guess she meant it. She really wanted us to work things out. It was odd, but I could only take her words at face value.

  That was this morning. Originally, when I didn't know that she was cheating on me, she said that she would be back on Monday. About 30 minutes ago, she showed back up with her bags and a practiced, tear-worn, heartbroken, guilty and shameful facade.

  For the last half hour all she's done was apologize. I've been sitting, stone-faced, and silent while she apologized profusely for betraying me.

  I held up my hand, stopping her from launching into another dialogue. "Why and when, Rachel? I want to know why you did it and when it started. Stop the bullshit. I know you're putting on a fucking show and it makes me sick. So for once in your life, grow up and tell me the truth. If you don't then you might as well take these bags and get the fuck out of my house."

  Her eyes were filled with anguish, but I didn't feel sorry for her. She made her bed now it was time for her to lie in it. If she had looked at me with those same torn eyes two days ago, I would've done anything in my power to take away her pain. I didn't feel that way anymore. It wasn't so much a feeling that came from hatred or rage. It came from me just being plain tired of being played.

  I think she sensed this change in me because, faster than I would've thought possible, her eyes changed from a display of anguish to an earnest look of regret and frustration.

  "Argh! Fine." She produced a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes then nose. I was still unmoved. "It all started two years ago. At first it was nothing. Just a little bit of harmless flirting, I promise. He would tell me I looked nice or would bring me little thoughtful gifts. That was it until a few months ago." She looked at me, her eyes begging for clemency. I didn't have any to offer her so she continued. "One night after work he invited me out for drinks. I really believed that it was just another flirtatious thing so I went, not thinking that things would turn out the way that they did."

  I cut in. "So you slept together."

  She wouldn't meet my eyes. Nodding she admitted, "Yeah."

  I wasn't going to let her off the hook until all of my questions were answered. "Okay, that's when. Now tell me why."

  "Jake, please. Please don't make me say it."

  "If you don't feel that you need to explain yourself, get the fuck out. We're through."

  Now the first recognizable emotion flashed across her face. Panic.

  She reached out for me and grabbed my arm. "No, please. Please don't say that. I'll talk. I'll tell you everything."

  I pulled my arm back and crossed it across my chest. "I'm listening."

  She did some silent calculation in her mind before she started speaking. "Okay. I think the reason that I started was because I was bored. He was someone different and I thought that I needed him to feel special. You're a wonderful husband and I don't deserve you. I know that now. He made me feel like I was still attractive and like someone would still want me. It was just different and I thought that I needed it. I'm sorry, Jake. I really am."

  I believed that she was sorry. I didn't believe she was sorry for cheating—she's much too selfish for that—I believed she was sorry that she got caught.

  "So, do you feel it?"

  "Jake?"

  "I'm asking. Do you feel special now that you had another guy between your legs."

  "Jake, please."

  "No! Do you feel special now that he's fucked you every which way till Sunday?"

  "Jake, stop."

  "Fuck that! Do you feel special now that he's fucked you under this roof? In our own bed? Huh? Do you feel fucking special now? Tell me! Yeah, you've got to be the most special fucking girl in the whole goddamn world!"

  Now real tears were flooding down her cheeks but she wasn't the only one. My outburst exploded the tight lid I had on my emotions. My cheeks were wet with my own pain but I didn't let up.

  "Tell me, Rachel. Was he a better lay than me? Was his dick bigger? Did he make you cum stronger than me? Huh? He couldn't have loved you more than me that simply wasn't possible. So why? It had to be something for you to continue seeing him for months. Months! And then you'd rather fuck him on my birthday than be with me. So yeah, how special do you feel now? Tell me!"

  I slammed my hand on the table hard enough for the entire thing to shake and a loud cracking sound to emanate from the wood. Rachel jumped back, fear in her eyes. I couldn't blame her. I hardly ever raised my voice around her, let alone hit something. Knowing how hurt and angry I was, she was probably fearful that I would launch myself over the table at her. The thought did cross my mind but for what? It wouldn't take away the hurt in my heart. It wouldn't repair the damaged trust. It wouldn't even make me feel better. I pulled my hand back and shoved it into the pocket of my pants while I waited for her to recover.

  Her brown eyes widened and it seemed like she
was seeing me for the very first time. There was fire in those eyes. It was a fire I hadn't seen in years. I wondered if she looked at him with those very same eyes when they fucked.

  "N-no. He's not better than you and his dick isn't bigger than yours. It was just different. I know it's stupid. I know I'm stupid. I did a dumb thing. It was a mistake. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me."

  “A mistake is something that happens once, maybe twice. It's something that you don't have control over. You made constant and consistent decisions to betray me. That's not a mistake. That's premeditation.”

  “Jake, please. I'm sorry.”

  I tilted my head back and looked up at the ceiling. When we were buying the house she had been really into home makeover shows. One of the things she was adamant about was painting the ceiling. Her grandparents were Italian nationals and always talked about the country of their births. She had never been but wanted to pay homage to a homeland she's never seen. She convinced me to hire an artist to paint a Tuscany landscape on our kitchen ceiling. The artwork was breathtaking. Bright sunlight. Rolling hills. Olive trees. Colonnades. The sea. I used to look up at it and it seemed like an oasis. Now it seemed like a cheap and broken replica—just like my marriage.

  I responded as honestly as I could. "Rachel, I honestly don't see how this is going to work. I can't forgive you for pissing on our marriage. I can't. You could've talked to me if you were having doubts. I would've agreed to do anything to make you happy. I don't feel that way anymore. I just don't."

  She jumped excitedly from her chair and circled the table until she was half laying in my lap and half standing. She pulled at my face as she tried to kiss me. I kept moving my face and pulling at her hands so she never actually touched my lips.

  Between kisses she begged, "No. Please. Let's try. Please give me another chance. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jake."

  I had enough of her touching me with lips that she kissed him with. I stood, which forced her to fall to the ground. The old me came roaring back and lounged to pick her off the ground but the new me stopped him.