EXTRACT FOR
A Wife Gone Wild
(Author Unknown)

Prologue



      The woman rode on top of the man grunting groaning as his cock sawed in and out of her pussy. I watched from the floor as her breasts heaved up and down with the motion. He reached up trapping her nipples between his fingers, rolling them unmercifully. The woman responded to the rough treatment by moving faster on his cock. She was so wet that her juices were rolling down on his balls.

      He lifted her up so that he could scoot out from underneath her. She moaned softly at the loss of contact as his cock slipped out of her pussy. Moving around behind her his hand slid up her back forcing her to bend over the couch. Once she was in position his cock slid easily into her well fucked hole. I was in perfect position to watch his cock sliding in and out.

      The wet squishy sounds coming from his pounding cock confirmed what anyone could tell; she was turned on by the fucking. Not that there could have been any mistake about that given the slapping of his balls against her pussy and the guttural moans coming from the woman.

      He slowed but never quit stroking his steel hard cock out of her pussy. Leaning over he whispered something in her ear that I could not hear. She agreed to whatever he said as she nodded her assent. He pulled out, his cock creating an audible 'Plop' as it left her pussy. She stood, her breasts tall out her chest with a sheen of sweat covering her, looking only at him.

      He took her hand, moving to the stairs, she followed willingly leaving me sitting there without so much as an acknowledgement that I was even there. If watching them fucking didn't break my heart her ignoring me certainly did the trick.

      Almost as if she read my mind she stopped at the bottom of the stairs whispering something in her lovers ear. She turned to me so erotic in her nudity finally meeting my eyes. Studying me for what seemed to be forever she finally issued that had become as much affection as I could expect.

      "Stay there, we want to fuck in private. I'll be back when I'm done."

      As I knelt there my heart breaking while watching the primitive force displayed in their fucking and from the callous disregard for my feeling from a woman that I loved more than life itself I thought about my life...my wife.

      

      It's funny when you read the newspaper today all you see is the bad. Tragedies and suffering abound. Don't get me wrong I have a lot of sympathy for victims of accidents,  their families and the like. Truly life altering events for those involved should not be taken lightly. 

      What I find funny is that the important stories never make the news. The ones that affect a lot of us the most. They are not sudden like a car wreck or the unforeseen onset of a life threatening illness. They happen slowly, a series of events and individual decisions that set people on their  individual paths. This is why you never hear about them  until it's too late. At the time they mean nothing. Just insignificant little choices we make every day and think nothing about, until later...when things start to go sideways.

      Looking at any one event or decision in the chain provides no certainty to the direction things will take. It's always easy to Monday morning quarterback anything. Most don't ever recognize that the decision they are making could be 'THE ONE', that all important choice. Nobody has the ability to see into the future so that person can't know that one critical choice and the series of decisions following it will build up...leading that person down a path he or she would never have dreamed possible.

       This is one of those stories...

      



Chapter 1

      

      Growing up I thought my family life sucked. But I never really had much to measure it against. There were always lots of kids in the neighborhood to hang around with but somehow I never got close to any of them. That was alright by me, I found other ways to pass the time. I had a great dog, Ruff, who was my best friend in the world.

      My mom was tough and mean. She yelled at Dad and I a lot. Dad didn't seem to mind her much, he watched TV, that's about all he did. Dad went to work in the morning, came home at six, ate and then moved into the living room with a beer. Mom made sure he knew what she thought about that, all the time,  and at a volume that plenty of others were sure to hear. He never said anything back; he just sat there, watching TV, drinking his beer. I never understood why till I got older. Sometimes it's just better to be quiet until you are ready not to be. Once you reach that point you have to be willing to go for broke. When that happens, everything changes and you better be sure that is what you want cause there is no going back.

      Weekends were a different story for Dad, the yard was his escape. We had the best kept lawn in the neighborhood. When the weather allowed he was always outside, from dusk to dawn. Planting, cutting, pruning, it was always something. Mom didn't say as much about his yard activities still she would use it against him and go off about him ignoring her, claiming his precious yard was more important than she was. I think in his mind it probably was.

      My sister Amy was ten years older than me. I remember that she was always ready to play with me. Never once did she tell me to get lost or go away, she always made time to do stuff with me. 

      The bad thing was that she and Mom fought all the time. She left for good when I was seven or eight. Funny the things you remember but I can still see her turning to look at me sitting on the floor in the living room as she left. Her eyes were sad but defiant at the same time as she bent down and kissed my forehead. She headed for the door, blew me a kiss, said 'good luck' and was gone.

      They'd just had a huge fight about something that I couldn't understand. I didn't know she was leaving for good, maybe at that time she didn't either. But she never came back. I would not hear from her again till Dad's funeral.

      With Amy gone and Dad hiding in the yard Mom was left with no other outlet so her temper turned on me. I tried to be the same as Dad and shut it out but when she got really worked up she could get mean. Her being mean meant I was getting hit, hard and often. Funny thing it never happened when Dad was around. I was sure he knew about what she was doing but as I look back maybe he didn't. If he did know he did nothing to stop it.

      I never got the chance to ask him. Mom found him dead in his garden one Saturday afternoon when I was twelve. Massive heart attack was what the doctor said. I say he took the chance and ran for the hills. A person can only take so much, there was no doubt in my mind we had both taken more than our fair share.

      At the funeral I'd seen Amy again. She stood back, away from us but I ran to her like the wind. I had missed her so much it hurt. She hugged me back just as hard but withdrew as I heard Mom coming up behind me. 

      Of course Dad's death was Amy's fault as was the sky being blue and any other thing that Mom could think of. By As Mom really got started Amy just turned and left. She made a point of telling me she would be in touch someday and then she was gone again. Her leaving made me sadder than Dad being gone. 

      Mom's temper did settle down, just a little after Dad died. Dad had insurance through work and with social security giving her money for me we did ok I think. Still we just me to blame when anything went wrong she turned on me even more quickly.

      Those were the times Ruff and I would go outside, just to get lost for awhile. We had some woods near us that created the perfect avenue for my escape. Exploring those woods always allowed me to disappear from the real world.

      School was not much help in getting away because I never fit in with any group. I always did ok but never did I stand out, except when I got to shop classes in high school. There was never anything else that really caught my attention. Sad when the only reason to go to a place where you really don't want to be is because the alternative is worse.

      The only thing I liked in school besides shop was English. I loved to read, anything really, but my favorite was a good mystery or action/adventure book. Being a loner meant I had tons of time for books, many times reading the same story over and over.

      Of course I could not read at home for long. Mom would always find something for me to do. If she couldn't come up with something she would just start berating me for wasting my time with books. So I took to reading them in the woods, kind of like escaping to an even further escape.

      I could see myself lost in the jungle or saving the damsel in distress. Tall, handsome and virile, the women swooned over me as I beat the bad guys to pulp. Quite a bit removed from the reality of me, but those were my daydreams.

      It was a very awkward time in my life physically, I stood five foot eight and weighed 150 pounds soaking wet. No chance to play sports, I had to develop other talents to keep from being beaten up. My real gift was that I could fix things and cars became my passion. Still anything that came in front of me was fair game to be taken apart and reassembled. It was a gift and one I enjoyed using to my advantage.

      My talent came in very handy by my junior year. Everyone started getting cars and when they broke I was the guy that could fix them. It didn't take long for the word to get around and soon I was in demand. All the bullies and the jocks left me alone as one by one they all needed me to fix something for them. Some of them even protected me from time to time.

      Even some of the girls treated me nice to get the things they needed. Of course fixing their cars was one thing, talking to me in a social setting was quite another. That never seemed to work out for me. The entire time in high school I never got a date, not even close. 

      My ability to fix cars got me close to Ben. Ben Smith was a jock, but one of the rare ones who was a nice guy too. Truly a rare thing in high school being as big and burly as he was, a big teddy bear, just like his dad Jake. One day after school I found Ben on the side of the road with the hood up. He knew about cars as Big Jake owned a repair shop just outside of town but I stopped anyway to see if I could help.

      He had popped a leak in the radiator and stopped before he burned up his motor. Standing in front of the car he was helpless to do anything, no tools or anything to work with. Fortunately I had everything required, Stop-Leak and some spare water appeared from my trunk to fix him up. Twenty minutes later he was good to go.

      I followed Ben to his dad's shop to make sure the fix held. Jake was impressed that I drove around prepared for any emergency. He offered me a part time job on the spot based on Ben's word that I was the guy to see in school if you needed a car fixed. Looking around at the shop I couldn't get yes out my mouth fast enough. The thought of me in that place every day, working on cars, was as close to nirvana as I could imagine. 

      I didn't want to let him down so I worked my ass off in the garage. Taking all the jobs I could get and learning from the other guys as I went. Big Jake was always there for me when I needed something. In a lot of ways more than my own father had been. But then again Jake didn't have to listen to my mother, which could've taken the starch out of anyone, even Big Jake. 

      Anyway I became an integral part of the operation. The guys would kid me about my age, height or anything else they could think of but it wasn't done in a mean way, they were including me. I slowly learned to give as good as I got and a mutual respect grew out of that. I couldn't imagine working anywhere else.

      After that first day on the side of the road Ben and I became speaking friends. I would not say best buddies or anything like that but most days when he came to the shop he would always stop by to talk while I worked. Also in school he would always say hey when we met. That acknowledgement by someone of Ben's social standing made life easier for me.

      I graduated high school in 1986 with little fanfare. Never really having belonged in any group, there was nobody to cheer as I took my piece of paper. If you aren't part of the in crowd surrounding the prom queen or the high school quarterback is there really any place for you in high school? Take the privileged few lottery winners of life out of the equation and the rest of us were just trying to hang on. Trapped in a world we really didn't understand and that in no way understood us. 

      So after graduation part time at Jake's shop turned to a full time job. He paid me good enough as I still lived with Mom. I saved a lot of my check as I had little else to do with it. Mom made sure that she got her share though. She claimed it cost her a ton just to keep a roof over my head.

      My dating life was the same as it had been in high school... non-existent. There were no opportunities with girls or none that I could figure out how to take advantage of. Just the thought of walking up to a girl with the intention of trying to talk to her brought knots to my stomach that physically hurt. I resigned myself to the single life.

      I was pretty sure that I never would have gotten a date my entire life until Millie and her family had moved in. They bought the house three doors down from us. She came to town in the summer right after graduation. Her family didn't have a lot of cash, the car they drove sucked so when her dad had the hood up one Saturday I used that as my way in to meet them. 

      Fifty bucks in parts and a couple of hours later he was good to go and grateful for my help. George was his name and he seemed like a pretty good guy. He tried to pay me but I wouldn't take it. I was cleaning up tools when Millie came out. 

      This wasn't the first time I had ever seen her but it had never been at this range. She wasn't the prettiest girl but in her own way she had something. I don't mean that I fell head over heels in love with her but there was something. Maybe it was just my raging hormones talking but you know what I mean, she had something, at least for me.

      Millie was tall, maybe 5'11", with shoulder length brown hair. Her eyes were a deep brown, very pretty when you got close enough. Her body was nothing that would turn your head, she was very thin. It was hard to tell anything else because her clothes were two sizes too big.

      Her breasts could hardly be seen through the layers of clothes. The one feature that stood out was her lips, lush and full like Angelina Jolie's. It was easy to see that she was painfully shy but I knew that already. She never directly looked at me the whole time she was outside. Millie mumbled to her father about dinner being ready and with a backward glance at my feet she returned inside. George looked at me, maybe he saw the way I was looking at her and understood, maybe not, but he invited me to stay and eat anyway. When I accepted it seemed like a great idea, little did I know that was the first decision...the one that started me down a different path.

      Dinner was great; Millie's mom, Joan, was a good cook. She reminded me of my mom; it was easy to tell who ran the show in this household. Though she had an edge I didn't get the impression she ever would go as far as my mom did, I couldn't see Joan yelling at or hitting Millie or George.

       Several times I caught Millie glancing my way although she would never meet my eyes directly. Speaking to me was totally out of the question even with her dad prompting her. Her mom was very nice about the whole thing trying to prod her as well into talking to me with little success. 

      When dinner was finished, Millie attempted to start cleaning up but Joan stopped her. Thanking me for helping with the car and offering me dinner anytime I wanted to stop by, she instructed Millie to see me to the door when I was ready. It wasn't hard to tell by her body posture that being alone with me made her nervous but she did as she was told, walking beside me to the front door. She never spoke one word the whole time. That was ok cause I had no clue about what to say either. In a way the awkward silence was soothing. It hinted to me that shyness might be our bond.