The Video Ch. 02

My lawyer picked up the remote and punched stop. The VCR obeyed and the screen went bright blue.

"Well, I guess I've seen enough," she said. "You have enough here to get whatever settlement you want. Do you know what it is you want out of the divorce?"

I noticed that her ears were red and she avoided eye contact as she asked me the question.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do," I said.

"Then let's draw up the preliminary papers and get going with this. It should be cut and dried." My lawyer, Susan Deland, was always very professional. I had known her for years through my own work, using her from time to time whenever legal advice or assistance was needed. I had hesitated to call upon her, not wanting to make this situation any more painful than it had to be. Susan knew my wife through our social contact and had played softball with her for a couple of years before they both stopped for different reasons. My decision to use her had been twofold. First, she had handled most of my legal affairs and I trusted her, and secondly, she was a woman. For some reason I figured that her being a woman would help me balance this action and handle it in a way that was sensitive to both sides. That may sound stupid but it was how I was thinking.

Before I tell how it all finished, let me fill you in on what had taken place between the time I saw the video and my visit with the lawyer.

When my wife arrived home from her trip I tried to act as normal as possible. I had decided to let my emotions settle before I made any decisions about how to handle the situation I was in. Yeah, I know that many of you macho types would've been waiting for her at the door with her stuff all packed up, told her off in a way that would have made her cry, then tossed her out on her cheating ass. Believe me, I pictured that in my head over and over, desiring the feelings of calling her down and ripping into her as she ripped into me by her actions. It was tempting. Very. But, as much as I wanted to make a scene and show her how tough I was, I finally decided on a course of action that better suited my own personality.

When she arrived home I made sure I got a good look at her pussy. I did this by telling her how much I missed her and that I had drawn her a hot bath to soak away her sore muscles. She tried to resist, to make some excuse why she didn't want to get in the tub, but there was no good excuse. When I began to undress with her I saw her face redden a bit. She hadn't thought that I was going to bathe with her. There was a bit of concern in her eyes as we both got naked. As was our practice whenever we bathed together, we got into the tub and faced each other. I smiled at her and let my eyes drop to her pussy as she stepped into the tub, making sure she saw where I was looking. Her face didn't get as red as her pussy lips but it got close. I didn't let on much but I'm sure she saw some strangeness in my stare. When we were both in the tub she quickly began to slip her foot between my legs, as she knew I liked, rubbing my cock and balls wit her toes. I let my cock get hard and the look of worry seemed to leave her face.

No, I didn't fuck her, though she tried to give me a blowjob. I told her I knew she was tired and that we'd have plenty of time for sex after she had rested.

Listen, I wanted to make her suck my cock. I wanted to hold her head and ram my cock down her throat. I had that kind of angry passion in me but I resisted. You may not have, but I did. And I felt better for it.

I didn't fuck her then and I didn't fuck her the next day or the next. She waited for me to make the overtures, but I didn't. This wasn't entirely out of character for me, for us. We often did this same thing for whatever reasons people do such things. So, it wasn't as if she would automatically believe that something was wrong. After almost a week I did fuck her. It was in our usual way with both of us displaying enough passion to make the other cum. To be honest, I didn't have any trouble getting and staying hard, as I thought I might. There was a point at which I felt the anger rising as I fucked her, pushing me to slap her as hard as I could, but I found a way to let that passion push me over the edge into a very powerful orgasm. It was one of the strongest I had ever had. And yeah, she noticed but was smart enough not to ask where the intensity had come from.

After that, I never fucked her again.

For all who know what they would have done, let me say that I entertained more scenarios than I can recall. I planned to try to set her boyfriend up with another woman, taping it and then showing her what a bastard he really was. I thought of taping myself as I fucked other women, doing all the things I wanted to do, then sending it to her when I was out of town. The list of fantasies was long and varied. You can probably think of some more innovative ways than I did to get back at her. But, know that I examined many, yet found myself ultimately rejecting them all.

What did I do?

Well, as I said, I stopped fucking her. I made weak excuses purposefully, knowing that she wouldn't press too much because she wasn't sure what really was going on. After a while she made no approaches sexually and just watched me with eyes that were sad and curious at the same time.

After a couple of months I made her a video.

I had the one of her and her boyfriend playing behind me as I spoke. There were the pictures and sounds of her getting fucked like the slut she was. My speech was simple.

I told her how I had come by the video. Told her that I had watched the entire thing. Told her that I knew her boyfriend was coming to live in our town soon, if he wasn't there already, which I was pretty sure he wasn't. There was a temptation to be mean and spiteful, which I knew I had the right to be, but I decided on another way. As her moans and groans filled the room and the pictures of her sucking and fucking played over my shoulder, I told her that what bothered me the most was that all the things she had done with her boyfriend were things that I had wanted with her. Things I had asked her to do with me. She had always refused. My understanding had been that she just didn't believe those things were right. That her religious convictions kept her from letting go with me, her husband. I let that soak in as I turned to watch her and her boyfriend fucking on the TV behind me.

When I turned back all I felt was resolve. I even smiled as I began to end my speech. My own desire, I informed her, was to find someone who would share themselves with me like she did with her boyfriend. And, I told her, that was going to be my mission in life.

I told her I loved her and that we had had some pretty good times in fifteen years. But, I knew that those times were over.

Then I told her I wanted a divorce.

By this time I had let go of most of the emotions that would've made me want to cry, which I had done enough of. I smiled again, told her she'd be hearing form my lawyer and that I hoped she and her boyfriend would be happy together.

That part was only partly true.

I'm not a hater. But, I am a human being and though I don't wish misery on anyone, I hoped they would have some shitty times now and then.

Anyway, I closed the video by moving out of the frame and slowly zooming in on the screen that showed the two of them fucking like animals. I left it there for a few minutes just to make the point, then shut off the camera.

To her credit, she didn't try to deny anything. She did ask me to reconsider, promising to break off all relations with her boyfriend. But you know what? I knew she just couldn't promise that. Hell, I knew I didn't want to make her do that because I would've always wondered where her heart was, wondered how much she wanted to be fucked by the man who obviously lit her up like a Christmas tree. I knew my own limitations.

So, there I ended up in my lawyer's office with the question hanging in the air.

Did I know what I wanted out of the divorce?

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do," I answered. "I want to get it over with quickly and quietly. Half of everything. Split right down the middle."

Susan Deland frowned at me. "You can get everything, just about. You sure you just want to split things fifty-fifty? That tape..." she nodded toward the blue screen.

"Yeah, I know," I said, "But I just want out and to get on with my life. I'll hang onto the tape in case I ever need it but I'm pretty sure I won't."

With that we drew up the papers. And several weeks later they were served to my wife who was living in an apartment by herself. Her boyfriend had moved to town but she hadn't moved in with him and that was all I knew about that situation.

I eventually sold the house and bought another in another part of town. Did I ever find a woman who wanted to share herself with me like my ex-wife did or does with her boyfriend?

No, but I'm still looking.

You know what I did find? I found peace. I can live with the way I handled things and move on knowing I was true to my own convictions. I also decided to be very honest and up front with anyone I had a relationship with. I let it be known what I was looking for and let them see who I am. I'm looking for the same in the other person. One day I'll find them. Until then, well, I'll just keep looking.