A Wife Scorned: Complete Series

by Laci Mitchell

  “No. I’m going golfing and will most likely have dinner after so don’t keep supper for me. It’s for business.”

  He walked through the vestibule and out the door. I rolled my eyes as I turned around. He must really think I was stupid. He’d taken his golf clubs out of the house months ago, and hadn’t brought them back with him. I’m sure my husband was going out to be with another woman, and I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. I was relieved, because it meant that I had the house to myself with Michael and we could be together without interruption.

  11

  I went back to the kitchen, and there was no sign of Michael. I didn’t think he’d gone out anywhere. I would have noticed if he’d slipped away through the back door. I hoped he hadn’t gone and I’d missed him. Today would be a wasted opportunity in that case.

  I walked down the hall toward the bedrooms and as I walked past my bedroom door a hand reached out and grabbed me. Michael pulled me into the room, slammed the door shut and pressed me up against it.

  “I heard his car. How long have we got?”

  “He’ll be gone until past supper time. He made up some song and dance about golfing, but he’ll be busy for hours.” I was shaking against him with my need for him. The days I’d been without him pressed heavily on me, and from the away he felt so hard against me, I knew he felt the separation too.

  “I want you now. I can’t wait.” He looked at me for a second, and I knew if I told him that I wasn’t ready that he would slow things down. But the truth of the matter was I was more than ready. My body was getting wetter by the second.

  “Do it to me.” I grasped his face in my hands and brought his mouth slamming down on mine. We devoured each other as if he was a soldier returning to war and we would only have this moment together to last us of the rest of our lives. He grabbed handfuls of my skirt and shoved it up around my hips. I was so glad I’d worn it when he shoved my panties down and I stepped out of them. He undid he belt and his jeans. He cupped his hands on my bare ass and lifted me up against the door. The wood was hard and unyielding against my back as he wrapped my legs around his waist and I put my arms around his neck. I did my best to cling to him, to support most of my own weight while he impaled me against the door with his cock.

  He pounded into me over and over, and I loved every second of it. I called his name, I ordered him to fuck me and my orgasm was swift. I knew that it would not be the only one I would get before my husband came home.

  Michael gave a long drawn out groan as he shuddered against me, and he pressed me heavily against the door. We sagged against the door for several moments, until the strength returned to his legs and he carried me over to the bed. He collapsed on it, being careful that he didn’t come down on top of me once my back hit the mattress. We were both fully clothed for the most part, and while I was temporarily sated, I knew that this was only the beginning.

  I was correct in my assumption and we had sex twice more. It seemed like no matter how many times he made me cum it wasn’t enough, and it was the same for him. It was if some subconscious part of us had a feeling that our time together was finite now that our situation had changed and we needed to store up as many memories of our time together as possible. It was a silly notion, since all that had changed was that we couldn’t be as free with each other as we had been before my husband had moved back in.

  He was laying beside me, slowly and softly kissing my flesh, preparing me again for his attention. I did some exploring of my own, stroking and touching every inch of his naked young flesh just as he was touching mine. His hand ventured between my legs and I flinched. I was tender there, since he’d fucked me much more vigorously than I was used to. I loved every second of it, but there was no denying that a fourth round might be too much for me.

  He pulled his hand away and looked down at me. “Are you sore?”

  I waned to say no, to lie and say I was fine. I wasn’t ready to end this idyllic afternoon with him. And then I thought of a way that he could have me, that had satisfied us both before.

  “I am tender there, but that doesn’t mean we have to stop. You could take me the other way.” I had been growing more bold with him by the day, but there was still enough of the good girl that my mother raised for me to carefully couch my words in polite terms. It seemed the only time I could let go and demand what I wanted in frank language was when I was in the throes of my passion for him.

  “Why Mrs. Randall, are you asking me to fuck you in the ass?” He drew back, making his eyes go round as if he was scandalized. “What kind of young man do you think I am?”

  “I know exactly what kind of young man you are.” I pulled him to me and kissed him thoroughly on the lips. He responded to me and pulled me tight against him, all kidding shoved aside as the passion inside us took hold. I pulled away, breathless and wanting him. “There is Vaseline in the bed side table. I use it on my lips in the winter.”

  He moved away from me and yanked the drawer open, shoving his hand inside to retrieve the petroleum jelly from inside. I rolled over and got up on all fours in the centre of the bed. My body was tingling in anticipation. I wanted him again, I needed him to fill me and it didn’t matter to me what hole he used, as long as he took me with him to paradise.

  He made sure that the hole in my bottom, along with his cock was well lubricated, and he eased slowly inside me. It felt similar to how it had felt when he’d first put his cock there the last time we’d done this. The only difference was that I was no longer scared of how much he was filling me back there, since I knew how good this was going to feel. All I needed to do was relax so his passage would be eased.

  “Fuck me.” I looked back at him over my shoulder and he obeyed.

  He pulled back and slowly shoved his cock back inside me. I let out a loud moan, and for a moment I was torn over which way I liked him to fuck me best. I loved having him in my pussy, but having him this way felt really good too. I dug my fingers in the sheet under my palms, trying desperately to draw out the pleasure of what he was doing to me. I never wanted this to end, I didn’t want reality to intrude. I wanted to be able to pretend that it was only us who existed and that we could be together without it being wrong.

  Once he was certain that I was feeling only pleasure not pain, his thrusts got harder and more demanding. I could hear his growing excitement in his harsh breathing and guttural moans. It fed my excitement, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to completion. I uncurled my right hand from the sheet and brought it down between my legs. I stroked my fingers over my clit in time with his thrusts and the tension built inside me so hard and so fast that at first it frightened me. I didn’t know if I could take the orgasm that was building but I wanted it so bad.

  “Tell me you’re mine.” Michael’s voice was a primitive growl and I knew that he was as close to release as I was. “Who do you belong to, Grace?”

  The thought that I was his alone brought me ever closer to the edge. It was what I wanted most in the world, and in the haze of sexual gratification it didn’t occur to me to think it wasn’t true. Perhaps in a legal sense it wasn’t, but in the ways that mattered most, in the depths of my heart I was his and he was mine.

  “Of God yes. I’m yours Michael.” My voice was a breathy moan and the words I gave him sent him into a frenzy of powerful thrusts. I didn’t think he’d ever fucked me that hard and that fast. I could feel the power of his young body behind me and it was too much for me to be able to hold back the tides of my orgasm. It gripped me tight and there was so much ecstasy in my release that it the only way to describe it was rapture. It made me blind and deaf to everything except the delicious spasms going through me. It was only his grip on my hips that held me in position as he drove toward his own release.

  When he came he gave a great shudder behind me, and as if from a great distance I heard him moan. I could do nothing but feel as he pumped his cum inside me. His hands went slack and somehow he managed to withdraw as his body fell to the
side. Once the support of his hands was removed I collapsed face down on the bed. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think and if my orgasm had been any harder I might very well have lost consciousness.

  It took much longer for us to recover ourself, and I knew that my body was now fully sated. I was so relaxed and fulfilled that I felt like I had no bones and as he pulled me close to him and held me, my world felt as perfect as it was ever going to get.

  We lay together on my bed for a long time, as if neither of us wanted to move for fear of breaking the spell cast over us. Reality would intrude soon enough, and it was one I think both of us were less inclined to want to embrace. But I knew that this could not last forever, that my husband would eventually return home and with him the truth of our situation. I didn’t belong to Michael, not in the way that mattered to the rest of the world and I never would.

  Michael and I were never truly alone after that Saturday. Earl did leave the house the following Saturday, but unfortunately Michael had something he needed to do and he couldn’t be with me. I didn’t know what it was, but something about how he acted with me after that made a tiny inkling of dread curl up in my stomach. When we could steal a moment together, in the dead of night while my husband slept, his touch had an edge of desperation, as if I would disappear in a puff of smoke at any moment. I couldn’t figure out why until everything came to a head and I could no longer bury my head in the sand.

  It was a typical Wednesday, both Earl and Michael left for work as usual, although my lover looked at me with a strange light in his eyes as if this was going to be the last time that he would see me.

  I was in the midst of my housekeeping routine. I was in the laundry room, sorting out clothes when I heard the front door open and close. There was a murmur of voices, one distinctly masculine and one feminine. A chill went over my body, and it was like I’d taken root in front of the table where the clothes were piled. Some instinct inside me didn’t want to leave this spot, didn’t want to face what was in the front room of my home because I’d recognized that male voice as Michael’s.

  I took a deep breath and prepared myself to lose my lover. He was here with another woman, and I had never thought he’d be so cruel as to bring her to meet me before he left me for her. Why couldn’t he have been like Earl, who’d just stopped coming home?

  I turned away from the table and walked toward the door. My hands were slick with sweat and I wiped them down on sides of my hips before I grasped the door knob and turned. Whatever was happening on the other side was not going to go away, and the sooner I faced it the sooner I could fall apart.

  I went into the living room and there he stood with. A young woman sat on the sofa, in a leopard print blouse, black Capri pants with ballet flats on her feet. She wore much more makeup than I did, and it was hard to determine her age. Her platinum hair could only have come from a bottle, and looking at her I didn’t quite understand what was happening. This woman looked nothing like what I expected Michael to be drawn to. Perhaps my judgement was clouded but she seemed much too flasy, too overblown to be of interest to him.

  “Grace, this is Ava. She has something to tell you.”

  As soon as he said her name I knew that he was not leaving me for her. This woman played a large, unseen part in my life, but it was not with Michael. This woman didn’t look like she was Michael’s type because she wasn’t, she was Earl’s. Even before she spoke I knew that she was the woman my husband had installed in an apartment in the city, it was her that he’d forsaken me for. She was not his first one, only the latest, and I didn’t understand why Michael would bring her to me.

  “You have to let Earl go. He says you won’t give him a divorce, but you need to.” That voice only confirmed what I already knew, this was the woman on the other end of the line every time I’d had to call my husband.

  I looked at Michael as a feeling of betrayal slowly spread inside me. I thought I’d been clear to him that I couldn’t divorce my husband, that I couldn’t uproot my life and start over. Did he think by bringing the living embodiment of how I fell short of my husband’s expectations would make me change my mind?

  “Why are you doing this?” I ignored her completely as I focused my eyes on him. “How did you dig her up anyway?”

  “I’m right here.” Ava took umbrage at being spoken of as if she wasn’t in the room and I couldn’t bring myself to care as I glared at Michael.

  “I followed Earl. He’s still seeing her and if you listen to what she has to say I’ll think you’ll understand why he’s moved back here.”

  I didn’t want to listen to any of this. I wanted to shove all this away, to deny it was happening. Seeing her sitting in my living room made it all too real for me, made it harder for me to live inside the bubble I’d built for myself to cope with my husband’s chronic infidelity. But Michael was forcing me to face this particular demon, and I could see no escape so I turned my eyes toward where she sat glaring at me.

  “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? What could you possibly tell me about my husband that I don’t already know?” What both she and Micheal failed to realize that I was painfully aware of what Earl was like deep down in his core and nothing that she could tell me would surprise me.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  I was wrong, I could still be surprised. I swayed on my feet as shock went through me. Of all the things to come out of her mouth, that was what I least expected. Michael rushed to my side and I was too shocked to fight him. He led me by the arm to the chair next to the sofa and helped me sit in it. My body felt like ice, and I quickly pulled my hands from his. I didn’t want him to touch me, I didn’t want to look at him. He’d gone against my wishes, was pushing me into a corner and I didn’t want to believe that he would do something like this to me.

  “Does my husband know?” The question was somewhat redundant since I was certain that he did know and that it was the reason that he’d run back home. My husband had been an indifferent father to my girls, and I was certain that he didn’t want another child. And he was using me as a shield to keep his mistress at bay, to keep her from seeing what a louse he truly was. “You don’t need to answer that, as I’m quite sure that Earl does know about your pregnancy. He’s been lying to you. There has been no mention of divorce in this house, at least not by him.”

  I look pointedly at Michael and he had the sense to look down. His face looked pale and strained, and I realized that he hadn’t thought this completely through. He may not know it now, but he would know soon enough that forcing me to confront my husband’s mistress would not result in my gratitude toward him.

  “So now that you know, will you divorce him?” Ava clutched her hand bag in her lap as she waited for my answer, but I had questions of my own. Why on earth had this woman picked Earl? Was it possible that she was in love with him, and saw something in him that wasn’t apparent to me?

  “Did you know he was a married man when you met?” As soon as I asked the question the look on her face told me that she had. And I took another long look at her. The quality of her clothes said expensive, hair like hers would take a lot of money to maintain that pale color and everything about her spoke of a lifestyle that required money.

  My husband and I were not rich by any standard, but our house had been paid for years ago, and with our children gone, there was money to spare. I’m sure he lavished it on her to complete the picture he had in his mind of a player with a pretty young mistress and money to throw around. I was sure that she’d seen my husband as a target to be milked, and now she was in desperate straights because my husband was not acting according to her plan. “I can’t make him marry you. You should know that. I don’t know how well you know Earl, but it will never be as well as I know him. He was never going to leave me to marry you. I will sue him for divorce because there is an innocent child involved, but you are on your own as far as getting him to marry you.”

  I felt little satisfaction in knowing that I was going to bring my husband’
s carefully crafted house of cards down around him. I couldn’t be sure if Ava’s pregnancy was a happy accident or a contrivance on her part, but either way she had underestimated my husband. While Earl may not want me any more, he needed me in a way that she could not understand. My husband’s world had been built on a foundation of respectability and the only way he could achieve it was to paint the facade of a happy family man. He was never going to voluntarily divorce me for this woman, not even to give his illegitimate child his name. I hoped she realized just how truly selfish Earl was, because if she didn’t she was in for a surprise. That was her problem, not mine. I had other things to concern myself with.

  I stood on shaky legs and looked at no one in particular. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t show you out.”

  I turned and Michael put his hand on my arm. I yanked it away and kept walking.

  How I managed to get to the bathroom under my own steam I’ll never know but I did. I was no going to fall apart, not in public anyway, and I rested against the closed bathroom door until I heard them leave my house.

  As soon as they were gone my legs gave way and I slid down the door. My body swayed to the side and my head touched the wall beside the door. If I’d been able to imagine this moment in my worst nightmares I would have thought that I would have cried, would have screamed my denials out loud but I didn’t. I was numb, and all I could do was stare at the floor as my world crumbled around me.

  12

  I don’t know how long I sat in the bathroom, but common sense returned and I realized that I couldn’t sit here staring and hoping that this was all a bad dream. I needed to move, I needed to do something to keep the terror over what I was being forced to do at bay.