Joel was not the sort of man that could share his wife.

He held conventional views about what a husband should be and what a wife and mother should be.

Even though he had to admit the sex had lately been incredible, the kinky twists that Leila brought nagged at him. Between that and the frequent absences, he couldn’t put aside his suspicions. He kept spying on her cell phone, and when he could, he’d drive by her workplace.

To a third party observer, it seemed just a matter of time before he’d catch her on her lunch break going out with Ace. But sheer luck had been on Leila’s side. Ace didn’t see her every lunch break.

In fact, Ace didn’t see Leila as often as she would like. She was in a side bitch role, a role she was only vaguely aware of.

Ace had an ex-wife that he still fucked on occasion in exchange for being on time with child support. And he had a steady girlfriend, a hot 20 year old that he didn’t have to avoid at nights because, unlike Leila, she had no husband she had to go home to, let alone any children.

Leila knew Ace was seeing someone. She had seen the thongs and jewelry in his car and asked him about it. She didn’t like it, but she was in no position to set rules about who Ace could fuck.

However, she had no idea Ace was extorting his ex wife for sex.

All the pussy Ace was juggling meant he didn’t have all the time to devote on pursuing Leila. They were seeing each other once or twice a week and this had become a routine.

“Our routine,” Leila thought to herself. She shrugged as she pushed her grocery cart, keeping one child in the cart seat while the other held onto a front corner of the cart, play-steering it as if she were in control.

Ace was texting her while she shopped. He was wondering if she would make their appointment. Leila texted back with some annoyance. Not at him but at her children. She had unsuccessfully tried to drop them off with her mother so she could see Ace.

It was a Saturday and Joel was at work and Leila had planned to be with Ace through the middle of the day, maybe longer, but her plans for a babysitter had fallen through. Her best friend had turned her down, the one she had confessed to about the affair.

Another girlfriend she used as a backup also said no, and her mother wouldn’t go for it either. They were all getting tired of Leila trying to recruit them for these favors and Leila’s mother was starting to question Leila and lecture her about her poor sense of responsibility.

Ace was also getting upset. In his own mind, he had been working on this “bitch” for nearly a year. He had made a lot of progress in dragging her back into her old lifestyle, what Leila still called her “slut phase.”

As she explained the problem, Ace came up with a solution. He had a niece he could pay to watch them. Leila rejected the idea. She didn’t want to have to explain to Joel, in the event one of his children should blurt out they were taken care of by some “new girl.”

They were at an impasse. Leila wouldn’t budge. Ace stopped texting and called her directly.

“Are you with me or not?” he demanded.

“What’s that supposed to mean, am I with you?” she answered.

“I been accommodating your domestic situation plenty. Plenty! But this is some bullshit, you always making excuses. I taking care of your needs and you gotta come through now. Now ditch those kids somewhere or forget you!”

“Ace, please, don’t be like that with me. I’m doing what I can!”

“Forget you! And don’t be expecting me to be looking for you. You gotta decide bitch, what you’re about, ‘cuz you’re not about coming through for me.”

“Ace, honey, don’t talk like that. I’ll work something out!”

“Work what out? They ain’t nothing to work out. You need a sitter, I got you a sitter. My niece ain’t good enough, then I’m not good enough! Forget you!”

He hung up on her and Leila’s anxiety level shot through the roof. She called him back, he wouldn’t pick up. She fumed. She cussed at her kids, these weights keeping her from freedom, from her “Big Daddy.”

She didn’t have the good sense to question her priorities, she just saw the potential hazard of the niece, this new element, that was keeping her from being with Ace, “because my stupid mom won’t be a good grandmother and watch you brats!” she yelled out to them.

She groaned and weighed the risk and against her better judgment she texted Ace back. She would leave her kids with his niece.

Less than an hour later, Leila had the groceries in the fridge and made her way to the sitter’s house. She found the girl was a 17-year-old brunette, a high school junior who seemed nice enough. She was dressed decently and house was well kept. The environment, what Leila could see of it, seemed safe enough and the girl was very cheerful.

Leila drove off, alone at last and free, she went to meet Ace at a bar. They spent the next 90 minutes playing pool, drinking, dancing to a digital jukebox. And as before, a few of Ace’s friends were there.

When a fourth friend arrived, they all left. Leila knew she was going to get gangbanged and she was looking forward to it. Yes, this is how far she had fallen.

She would drink, smoke, get stoned, let the men fondle her at the bar. She was insanely horny and free to act on it.

When they got to the apartment of one of the men in the group, Leila marveled at the size of the place. It had a spacious living room and den, a modern kitchen and three bedrooms.

She laughed easily as the men fondled her body where she stood, fondled her from head to pussy. She loved the attention. She LOVED the attention. She felt like a star.

Her senses translated an overwhelming onslaught of sensations. She was near sensory overload. If her senses could speak, they would say: “All these hands touching me! Oh, there and there! Mmm! An erection is throbbing against my left hip. Look. My wrist got grabbed, Ooo! Someone put my hand on his bare cock! Oh! Uhh, my tits! I like that twisty motion! Ooo, yes! This one grabbed my chin, he wants a kiss, yes, mmm, tongue, twirl, twirl! My shorts are coming down! Oh, my thong is coming down! Step out of them, there, that’s better. Ahh, someone kicked my right ankle! Yes, widen my stance, okay. Ooo! Oh, oh, my pussy’s getting fingered hard! Nnn! That’s three fingers. Ouch, he needs a manicure. So rough! Uhh-huh! Mmm, now he’s blowing on my pussy, is that the same guy? Oh, the hands, the hands! They’re everywhere! I fucking love this!”

But all the men heard were moans and “ooos” and “ahs” from a curvy MILF that clearly enjoyed what was going down.

Suddenly, the throng of male bodies parted and Leila was faced with a coke line on a glass table. For a moment she shook her head no and said, “I don’t need that.”

Every one stopped what they were doing. Ace grabbed her neck and made her look into his eyes. He hooked her pussy with his middle finger and said insistently, “Have a line, my dear.”

He gave her a passionate kiss and then pulled his finger out of her pussy and Leila bit her bottom lip. She wanted to please. She leaned into the table and snorted. The men clapped and suddenly someone grabbed her hair from the back and rammed a fat cock into her pussy.

He fucked her full speed as the rush of the snow jolted Leila into an electro-wonderland. She groaned on that speed racer cock, “OH! OH!!OH!! OH!! Gawwd!”

She was kept bent over the glass table, standing there and fucked. There was always an assist man by her side tugging and spanking at her nipples and laying a line of coke for her to snort.

Once she was high, Leila didn’t have to willpower to pass on what was put right in front of her, or behind her. The men took turns, drilling her full speed in short sprints.

Each man would stop before he was about to cum. Letting the next man in line go at her. By that method, they kept her lust at a peak. Resting themselves but giving her no rest.

And the coke served its purpose. Keeping Leila’s ass pumping like a sex machine. She came and sweated. She squirted and howled. She growled, “Fuck me! Yea fuck!” at the top of her lungs.

She didn’t tire. The coke wouldn’t let her. She was in an endurance fuck and she determined to wear out all five of these studs. Leila had delusions of grandeur. She was the queen bee slut that they couldn't resist. They were there to service HER, to service HER needs. And the constant thump, thump, thump of masculine groins slapping into her jiggling round ass cheeks, the fuck farts of cocks pumping her juicy, drooling cunt, the male groans and hand slaps against her thighs and buttocks were all a symphony to her ears.

They finally could not keep up the pace without nutting into her. Leila became a cum bank, taking three deposits in her vaginal canal and two up her colon.

But in her altered state of chemically induced madness, she was insatiable. The men went to the living room to sit and Leila went around on her knees trying to suck one cock after another back to life.

She succeeded. The second round took place in a bedroom, where she was on her back getting fucked while she angled her head to one side to suckle, slurp and giggle at any cock that came near her lips.

Her sex marathon lasted four hours and the entire date kept her with Ace and his crew for seven hours.

Picking up the children after that session seemed a near impossible task. Leila moaned from fatigue. She was soon in a post-cocaine crash and bitched at having to stop at a fast-food restaurant for kid’s meals because her children were “hungry!”

“Goddamned niece of his couldn’t make them baloney sandwiches!” she bitched.

That night, when Joel got home, Leila couldn’t be awakened. She was dead tired and slept like a log.

She had also made a serious mistake. She was too tired to cover her tracks.

Joel, seeing her completely out of it, once again spied into her things. He found two cell phones in her purse. He examined the one he had not seen before. There was a long history of text messages with Ace, and only Ace.

There were sext pictures. She had sent him photos of her pussy and tits and he had sent back pictures of her with a cock in her mouth, pictures of her with cum on her face. There was the conversation over the planning of their last rendezvous, and so much more.

Joel went pale. His body shook with anger. He wanted to wake her up and confront her. He wanted to beat the shit out of her. But he took a deep breath, and fists clenched, continued to snoop around.

He went to the laundry and found on top of the hamper heap of dirty clothes that last outfit she was wearing. The crotch was encrusted with semen. He sniffed her tank top and it stunk of the sweat of a man. It reeked of another man.

Joel went into the bedroom with murder in his eyes. He turned on the light and she did not stir. He pulled back the bedsheet and saw his curvy, beautiful wife naked.

Still, she did not stir.

He grabbed a knee and lifted one leg. What he saw made him gasp with revulsion. There was semen encrusted like old glue to her pussy and down her inner thighs, all the way down to her ankles!

One man didn’t do this. That was all he could think. ONE man did NOT do this!

“You fucking whore,” he said out loud. But still, she did not stir.

He watched her ribs and tits move from her breathing. He put his hands on her right boob and examined it. Underneath the boob he found a red hickey. He ran his fingers through her sweaty hair and his fingers got snagged in cum-dried patches. She smiled!

That slut smiled, Joel told himself.

He gently took her chin in his fingers and turned her head up to get a better look. Her mouth fell open and Joel could smell cum-cock on her breath. She was stinking of sex. There was a thin trickle of dried blood on her upper lip, it had come out of her nose. He then notice the glint of her earrings and focused on one; it was a one-inch silver penis with testicles, a cock earring!

He grimaced and quivered with an anger so deep, he knew his emotions were in a place completely unfamiliar to him. He had seen enough and was afraid of what he would do next if he stayed in their bedroom.

Joel recoiled, walking backward. He went to see the children. He picked them up and carried them to his car. He laid them on the backseat and went back into the house. He packed two suitcases and went to the kitchen table. He wrote a note and put it on the fridge door with a magnet.

Then he took Leila’s cell phone, the one she used for everything but Ace, broke it and threw it in the trashcan. He left the hidden cell phone taped with black duct tape to Leila’s inner thigh. He took a black marker and wrote next to it on her flesh, “GO to HELL WHORE!”

He took her wedding dress from the back of her closet, and used bobby pins to attach those filthy cum-encrusted shorts over the dress’s waist line. He left the dress and incriminating shorts hanging on the inside door knob of the front door.

He left the door open and he left.