Another Cheating Wife Bundle!: Sexy 3-Story Erotic Collection (11 page)

Chapter Eighteen

The next few weeks were a blur.

David found himself in a Holiday Inn Extended Stay, around the corner. He’d gone from happily married to living in a motel in the space of a single day.

And that day had stretched into weeks.

Cassie filed for divorce two days later. She emptied their bank accounts and cancelled their credit cards. In a preliminary court hearing, the judge ruled that David was still responsible for the mortgage and the utilities of the house he didn’t even live in anymore; and as a result he was virtually broke.

Or, at least, he would have been if not for the penny stock money.

Thanks to the tips Phil from Investor Relations had given him, David had enough money to get back on his feet with. Within a month, he was renting a shitty basement apartment and considering his options for the future.

It was a tough gig. David went from coming home to a kiss and a hug, to getting a non-committal shrug from his landlord. He went from a blissful cohabitation to the bachelor lifestyle in a scary amount of time (and David was lucky enough to survive being a bachelor the first time; let alone again.)

But the worst thing? It was losing Cassie.

His high-school sweetheart. The love of his life. A woman many had claimed was too good for him (and perhaps this proved they were right.)

A couple of weeks in, at one of the next court dates, David met “Tony” – the man Cassie had left him for. And for the first time in those weeks, he started to feel better.

“You need to pay me alimony,” Cassie was demanding, across the lawyer’s table. “I have to be able to provide for my baby.” She rubbed her belly, and then looked over at Tony, sitting next to her. “
Our
baby.”

But it wasn’t Tony’s baby, David knew. It was some black guy’s baby. And the fact that Tony was a handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed man meant that in seven or eight months’ time, when the baby was born, he’d have some very serious questions for Cassie that she wouldn’t be able to answer.

That in itself made David feel better.

He’d felt like a shit through this whole thing. He’d allowed terrible things to happen to Cassie, because he was weak and pathetic and not strong enough to say ‘no’ to forceful personalities like Brandon.

Through it all, he’d always felt like the bad guy; and how he’d betrayed Cassie. But today, when she was demanding more and more of his dwindling financial resources, David finally felt like she was about to actually get what she deserved.

And there was no little irony in that fact, David admitted to himself.

By all accounts, he was the only who deserved to be punished for what he’d done. Instead, he was going to go back into work and check on his penny stocks; a source of more money than he’d ever dreamed of, and entirely independent of his soon-to-be ex-wife’s control.

David had money, and he had a future. He might not have Cassie anymore; but to all intents and purposes he had everything else he could have asked for.

*              *              *

Or, at least, until that morning he went into work and found police waiting at his cubicle.

“Good morning, sir,” one of the officers unclicked his handcuffs. “We need to bring you down to the precinct to answer some questions.”

David looked up, across the open-plan office. To his horror, he suddenly saw Phil’s familiar face marching down the corridor; handcuffed, and flanked by the police.

“We have suspicion that you’re involved in illegal stock trading,” the officer continued. “Do you mind turning around?”

*              *              *

And that was how David found himself, eight months later, sitting in a jail cell.

The stocks Phil, from Investor Relations, had been dabbling in were fraudulent. As David was to discover soon, most penny stocks were.

Phil had the inside track on which stocks would explode, and knew when to get out of them while there were still suckers willing to pay inflated prices for them.

“And I would have gotten away with it, too,” he ended up saying on his day in court, “if some dipshit amateur hadn’t been making all the same purchases I was.”

That “dipshit amateur” David later realized, was him.

*              *              *

So it was from behind the prison walls that David learned of his former wife, Cassie, waddling down the aisle to marry her lover, Tony.

It was there he also learned of their abrupt divorce, not six weeks later, when ‘Tony’s’ baby emerged with chocolate skin and a full head of afro hair.

But despite that humiliation, Cassie had done well for herself; embracing the single mother lifestyle and ignoring the sneers from her married friends. She might have had no idea where or how her beautiful brown baby came from – but she loved him with all her heart and was a terrific mother.

Life for David, though, was not all reminisces.

Prison life was hard, sure. But what made it harder was something he was fairly sure would be labelled “karma”.

David found himself in an almost exclusively African-American cell-block – and, to make matters worse, many of the hulking black felons he shared space with knew somebody David knew on the outside.

Tyrone.

And when Tyrone had heard that David was locked up with his friends, he made sure to let them know a few things about the skinny white criminal. Not least of which was: “He sucks cock like a bitch.”

And, indeed, he did.

David’s penance, for what he had done to his beautiful wife, was a twisted version of the same.

For the majority of his two year sentence, he found himself on his knees or on his back; servicing a line-up of horny black strangers, just as he’d forced his oblivious wife to.

Fucked in the face and the ass day in and day out, David learned an important lesson: What goes around, comes around.

Or, in his case, cums around.

Karate Kisses

Chapter One

“Are you
crazy
?”

When Susie’s husband, Marcus, had his hands on his hips like that, it generally meant that she was in trouble. Which, for a cute and curvy little Italian housewife, meant that it was time to get defensively angry, to try and divert attention away from anything she might have done wrong.

“I was just trying to help out,” Susie growled back. “I’m offering to trade a few hours of work and we’ll get
free
fitness classes out of it if we do.” She sniffed angrily. “I thought you’d be
happy
that I was trying to save us some money.”

Marcus stood in the living room of their home, and the expression on his face didn’t change. In fact, if anything, his crisp British accent got colder and sharper when he spoke next.

“First off,
darling
,” he growled, as if ‘darling’ was a dirty word, “we haven’t had the time to take fitness classes anyway. Sensei Desmond offered you free Zumba and Kickboxing classes for a month and you made it to, like,
one
of them.”

He took a deep breath.

“
Secondly
, it’s not as if we can’t afford them. Did you do the math?” He held up a schedule of classes. “If you volunteer to go and help out this many hours a week, you’ll be basically working for the equivalent of
five dollars an hour
.”

Susie said nothing.

“And,
finally
,” Marcus growled. “What exactly are you doing there?” He took a step forward and gazed down at his petite wife with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. “I mean, you were ‘volunteering’ to help out from 10pm to midnight last night.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Forgive me for saying that it looks a
little
suspicious.”

“How
dare
you,” Susie spat back. “There is
nothing
untoward about what I’m doing. As I told you, I’m just offering to clean the place up in return for free classes. Sensei Desmond just had a late class last night, and wanted somebody to clean up before 5am Zumba.” She shrugged. “And what’s the big deal? You go out with the guys late at night all the time.”

“First off, that’s not true,” said Marcus. “And secondly, it would be
with the guys
. You, alone in the karate school with a sweaty instructor?” He shook his head. “Looks mighty suspicious, Susie.”

“I don’t need to listen to this,” Susie snarled, before turning on her heel and storming out.

A moment later she was clambering into her car and zooming off towards the karate school.
She’d
show Marcus. She actually
would
attend one of those classes; and then maybe her suspicious husband would get off her back.

Not that he was really on her back, she admitted to herself, as she slowed for a red light. Marcus’s frustration seemed more like bemused curiosity than anger. I mean, jealousy wasn’t really part of his DNA – which was convenient, given their history – but it still annoyed Susie that he’d imply something that wasn’t actually happening.

And that, perhaps, was her biggest point of annoyance. As Susie put her foot to the floor, she snarled at the suggestion that she’d do anything inappropriate with her hunky karate instructor. But she also snarled because Marcus had called her out on
considering
it.

The truth be told? She thought Sensei Desmond – a towering African-American man very much in the ‘Afro Samurai’ mold – was super-hot.

She wasn’t intending to do anything about it, but she was largely ‘volunteering’ at the karate center just to get out of the house, and to get to spend a few hours with somebody different, and interesting, and attractive – and who flirted with her.

She thought it was innocent, and fun. And Marcus had just made it all sound dirty, and sordid. And not a little… interesting.

Chapter Two

At ten PM that night, the NJ DoJo School of Karate was closed for business, but the lights were still on.

In the office, Sensai Desmond was sat doing paperwork, while Susie was mopping the padded mats in the dojo space. The sound of 80s on Eight echoed through the speaker system.

It was calm, and quiet, and Susie was enjoying the solitude and the mindless work.

That was, until the door of the karate school swung open and a loud, British voice bellowed: “I knew it!”

Susie stopped, and looked up.

There was a pitter patter of feet down the corridor, and then she heard the door to the lounge swinging open and another cry of: “I knew it!”

Then more silence.

Finally, the door of the dojo itself was slammed open, and Susie’s husband stood framed in the doorway waving an accusatory finger.

“I knew it!” He barked, pointing at Susie.

And then he paused. And slowly lowered his finger.

Finally, meekly and calmly, he asked: “W-what are you doing?”

Susie narrowed her eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked. “I’m mopping the mats down.”

By this time, the commotion had brought Sensei Desmond out of his office, and the towering black man stepped up behind Marcus and crossed his burly arms in front of his massive chest.

“What the heck is going on here?” He asked with a good natured chuckle.

Marcus looked thoroughly disgruntled.

“I burst in here at 10pm to catch you too in the act,” he snapped. “You really think I believed that you’d have my gorgeous wife in here at 10pm, mopping down the bloody mats?”

And then he shook his head.

“But it turns out you
did
.”

Desmond looked confused.

“Yo, yo,” he said defensively. “Your wife explained the arrangement, right? She volunteers for a few hours a week – cleaning the place up – and I give you guys free fitness classes.” He narrowed his big, brown eyes. “Dude, you didn’t think I was doing anything
inappropriate
with your wife, did you?”

Marcus rolled his eyes.

“Truth be told? I a
bsolutely bloody did
.” He admitted. “In fact, I’m surprised that the only thing that I could be
more
outraged about is the fact that you’re
not
.”

Marcus span and turned to Sensei Desmond, looking up fearlessly at the towering black man.

“
You
!” He snapped, poking the huge karate instructor in the chest. “What’s the deal, brother? You don’t find my wife attractive?” He jerked a thumb in the direction of Susie. “You drag her out here late at night, when you’re both all alone, and the best use of her time you can come up with is to
mop the fucking floor
?”

Sensai Desmond was a black belt in seven martial arts, but that was one attack he didn’t have a defense for.

“I… Erm… I mean…”

“And
you
!” Marcus turned to Susie. “You really can’t think of anything you’d rather do than drive out to a drafty karate dojo late on a Sunday night and mop the floor for
five dollars an hour
?” He shook his head. “We have floors that need mopping back at home, and if you’re really so worried about money, there are a lot more profitable things you can be doing with your time than acting like a fucking
cleaning lady
.”

He shook his head sadly.

“Is this what it’s really come down to? That you’re so desperate to get out of the house and away from your husband that you’d come and mop floors late at night instead?”

“I…” Susie, too, seemed floored by that accusation.

Marcus shook his head sadly.

“I’m honestly disappointed in
both of you
.”