What To Do With Lynnette? Ch. 02

All day long I was suspicious and my mind raced with possible scenarios of what might be happening. That night I called her room at about 9:00pm. There was a two hour delay in time zones so it would be 11:00 on her end; certainly the time she should be snuggled into her bed for a full night's rest. She answered after several rings, but seemed a little out of breath, as though she had to race to the phone. When she explained she was drying her hair off, that seemed reasonable, but then I could also hear other noise in the background, noises that made it sound like she wasn't alone.

She explained that the TV was on, and that's what I could hear. The sounds included music so she could have been telling the truth, but when I asked her to turn it down, she ignored me. I could hear a male voice, and her ability to concentrate on our conversation was certainly being effected by something, or by someone. The rhythm of her speaking was broken like she was still drying her hair vigorously after too many minutes, then almost in desperation she said someone from room service of all people at that hour was at her door and that she would have to call me back later.

I didn't want her to hang up, I thought something was going on and I wanted to find out more. I heard loud clatter of plastic objects colliding and then a thud...but the phone was not hung up. I could still hear sounds, voices, even wailing or possibly impassioned moaning. If the TV was on, then she was watching an adult pay per view porn movie. The sounds of sex were unmistakable, and my heart sank in a heap when I heard a distinct male voice announce that he was going to fuck her like she had never been fucked before.

I had purchased a recording device to listen in on phone calls on our home phone several weeks earlier, when my suspicions had started driving me crazy, and I had prepared ahead of time that night by connecting it to the phone, just in case. I could hear a woman scream out in lust as she begged her man to put it all the way in. "God it feels so good, oh shit yes, fuck me you son of a bitch." She screamed in lust.

"Does your husband's cock make you feel like this?" He asked. "Can he fill up your tight pussy with his cock, like I do Lynn?" There! He said her name, there's no way she could slough this off to a TV movie; coincidence was unacceptable.

"No," she said too quickly, and too emphatically. "He doesn't come close, god I love your beautiful cock Brian. Please fuck me, fuck me to death with it you horny bastard."

I don't know where my heart was, Lynette's words had ripped it out of me and I wasn't sure right then if I could ever get it back. I laid the handset of the phone onto our bed, and slowly stood, and walked out of our room numbly. Somehow, I ended up down the stairs and out the door without ever having moved my feet I thought. I stood outside in the brisk night air trying to come to grips with what I had witnessed by phone and for the first time the word divorce crossed my mind. It's funny, after spending so much time worrying over how we were going to get a family; I finally felt relief over all the things in our struggles that had been counted as failures only moments before.

Sometime later I went back in and eventually ended up in the bedroom again. I noticed the phone still lying on the bed. About 45 minutes had passed since I laid it down, and I wondered if they had realized it had not been hung up on their end yet. I picked it up again and brought it to my ear "...at's it push it in my ass. Oh your sooooo big Brian, I didn't think I could take it that way." I heard Lynn say.

"Your ass is even more gorgeous with my cock shoved up it baby." Brian's voice boomed.

Then there was frenzied pounding as I listened to the frame of the bed beating against the hotel room wall. Along with the noise of inanimate objects colliding, there were the sounds of sexual gluttony from my wife and Brian. The rhythm of the noise increased in intensity and I heard both of them cursing loudly as they approached orgasm together. Lynn sounded desperate as she screamed at Brian to stop. "Don't cum in my ass." She said. "Don't cum yet! Put it back in my pussy and cum in me there. I feel so dirty when you do and I might finally get pregnant."

I actually heard the sound of his slick cock popping out of her tight brown hole and then she squealed in glee as he fed it back into her ready cunt. "God Brian, how did you ever get such a beautiful cock? It fills me up so much, and you fuck me so good with it. Your wife must die for it." The frenzy increased again and soon Brian was grunting as he pumped my wife full of his adulterous cum. I could tell he was cumming because he was grunting in a strained voice every time he shot another stream. Finally emptied, he pulled out and ordered Lynn to turn around and get her mouth on his slimy shaft to clean it up.

She didn't sound reluctant as she moaned in lust while she quickly gobbled him up. Here I had witnessed by telephone her enthusiasm at things I used to consider perverse. It didn't matter that I had had become curious about oral sex myself and had even tried to imagine what it would feel like. In this context, it repulsed me and only added to my anger and the sense of betrayal. I resolved right then and there to make sure the ugliness I felt inside somehow went away.

I set the handset back on its base, and removed the taping device. I wasn't curious about all I had missed, I was sure it was just more of the same, and wasn't sure if I wanted to learn any more about Lynette's elevated opinion of Brian's assets, or her disparaging opinion about my own. Lynn called back the next morning and I was cold and terse enough in my conversation to make her ask if I was alright. "As good as possible, under the circumstances," I said, and when she asked what I meant, I told her that I was lonely and looking forward to her return.

She said she missed me too, and that she would make it up to me when she got back that night. We hung up without a lot of warmth, and I spent the day talking to a few friends and trying to find a good divorce attorney. When she got home, she acted sweet and affectionate and I tried to pretend to be anxious to see her again. At bed time, we had plain sex for the first time in our marriage; before then we had made love. I felt angry pushing my cock into a cunt that had been occupied by someone else not that many hours before, and I got myself off without care or concern for her in any way.

It was angry sex, and it frightened and confused Lynette, but it gave me partial release of the pent up emotion and rage that had built up and that I had stored inside. For the next several days things were icy again between us, until the end of the week and the day that had been marked on our calendar for her company picnic. I didn't want to go, and at fist Lynette seemed willing to not push the issue, then the night before the picnic she really put on a campaign to talk me into it.

Picnic day was Saturday and I exaggerated how important it was for me to use the time to catch up on yard work that had built up. Lynn didn't let up all day, and I was getting more and more stubborn against going.

Early in the day, her work associate Brian Reynolds had called to help convince me to go, and the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that this had to be the same Brian she had been with in Orlando. He insisted on picking us up so we could ride with him and his wife, and by the time he arrived I was terse, impatient and plain upset at the conspiracy to get me to go. Lynette insisted that I come in to get ready at about the same time Brian rang the front door bell.

I got inside as she was showing him the front room and met the two of them in the entry. She introduced him again, I think I had met him before but really couldn't recall. The greeting I gave him was cool as I regarded him with suspicion and then Lynette urged me toward the bedroom upstairs as they moved into the dining area off the bottom of the stairs. I was trying to drag things along slowly and asked Lynn a question from the upstairs hallway. That's when I witnessed the sex play Brian had started as soon as I started up the stairs. When I saw the reflection of him in the curio mirror, fingering her pussy daringly to flaunt his sexual power over her I flipped.

Operating on pure rage, I raced down the stairs and grabbed his shirt beneath his neck with one hand and his full head of hair with the other. I pulled him up and threw him back with such force he ended up in a heap on the other side of the room. I picked him up again and even though he was larger than me, he hardly touched the ground as I forced him back through the dining room, through the entry and threw them into the door frame so hard the wood splintered as it gave way and his body passed though the opening, off the porch and into the yard. His body lay motionless on the ground and I didn't care if he was alive or dead. I went to his van, found his registration an took it with me.

By the time I got to my car in the garage, after I had assaulted and almost killed him, I had to sit for a moment to gather control before I went out and killed myself or someone else on the road. Even though my ego was wounded and I should have been feeling incredible pain, the anger that had built up from knowing too much and still not enough about my wife's infidelity dominated all of my emotion. When I felt I had at least minimal control over myself, I backed out and slowly drove down the road trying to twist the padded covering off of the steering wheel with my angry grip.

I checked to see if the extra copy I made of the phone tape was still in the glove box; with the tape in hand I drove straight to the Reynolds home. Mrs. Reynolds name was Elizabeth and I wondered only briefly if I was doing the right thing as I waited at the door for her to answer. Liz was a nice looking woman about my age and only a little heavier than Lynette. She had a puzzled look on her face when I introduced myself and I apologized for having to deliver disturbing news. She gasped, thinking I was here to tell her that Brian had been in an accident, and then standing there on the porch I simply explained that her husband and my wife were having an affair. She stood silently, maybe in shock, and said nothing; then I placed the copy of the tape and one of my business cards in her hand and told her to call me if she had any questions.

After I made my delivery, I drove into the foothills close by and parked as I listened to soft moody music from the car stereo. The music was romantic and melancholy and soon I was slipping into depression as I reviewed all of the good that I thought was coming to an end, things that had been important to me, and that were being thrown away carelessly by Lynette. I was still angry, but also hungry and tired by the time the sun set. I had never cleaned up from my work in the yard earlier, and I didn't like the idea of going somewhere to eat alone. Even at a fast food joint, I would feel conspicuous under the circumstances.

I became angry as I realized Lynn's choices had taken away even the simplest pleasures from my own life, and eventually I grabbed a hamburger at a drive through and forced it unpleasantly down. When I got back to the house, it was dark, and I hoped Lynette had left. Her car was gone from the garage, and I breathed a sigh of relief that hid the regret and profound loneliness I felt. The phone rang and I answered without thinking. It was Lynette at the Fairfield Inn; as soon as she heard my voice she begged me to hear her out and give her a chance to explain Brian's reckless advance, as though this were the first time he had become aggressive like this. I didn't giver her a chance and hung up the phone, then I picked up the receiver again, listened for the dial tone, and disconnected the handset so I wouldn't be disturbed by the loud wailing tone of a phone off hook.

On Sunday, I went to church alone and then found a shopping mall with a theater and went to a matinee. I stayed in the movie theater until 10:30 that night and sat through I don't know how many movies that I didn't watch, just to be alone in the dark. On Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday I went to work as usual and refused to take any calls from Lynette. On Thursday I talked to her only long enough to let her know that we would talk eventually, when I felt ready, and that was all. I had changed the locks on all the doors and wouldn't open up for anyone at all.

I also put in a call to our joint credit cards and reported them all stolen and transferred funds from joint bank accounts to ones opened only in my name. Saturday morning at about 10:00 am, I was considering the yard work that needed to done even more when Lynette rang the front doorbell. I had already decided it was time to talk, and knew it was her. After making her wait for several minutes, so I knew she would be self conscious about being observed by neighbors I unlocked the door and went into the formal living room to wait.

Lynn opened the door cautiously and slipped almost like a thief into the entry. She came into the room silently and sat quietly in a chair opposite form me. I looked past her into the yard until she found her voice and spoke. "What's going to happen Jerry," Is all she asked.

"I'm not sure Lynette." I said. "It seems you're the only one who really knows all you've got going on, so it might be better to ask what you thought was going to happen."

"I don't know how to explain what you saw Brian doing." Lynn said. She seemed to still be trying to make me believe that this was all that had ever happened.

"Are you saying that this was the only time your work buddy got into your panties Lynette, or got you out of them?"

Her flesh became pale as she twisted her fingers anxiously and averted her eyes from mine. "Jerry, I don't know what you know or believe I've done, and I don't know how to explain the mistakes I've made. The only thing I can tell you is that I'm sorry, I didn't mean for anything to happen. I got trapped by my own carelessness, but the last thing I ever wanted to happen was to hurt you."

"Why don't you tell me what mistakes you made, and what has happened Lynn?" I said, actually trying to make sure I sounded calm, and honestly concerned.

"Jerry," she said, trying to collect words to express the things she held deep inside. "Over the past several months, I have reacted poorly to the depression and discouragement I felt over not getting pregnant. I became selfish and slipped back into some old habits I had in college before we started dating. I don't know how to tell you this...I used to act badly in school, letting boys see me...well I tried to let boys see me partly undressed or naked. I used to take my clothes off in front of my open dorm window and let guys look at me naked. Lately I've been undressing in front of windows when I traveled or even in my car so people could see me. Brian saw me one day when I was on my way home, and things have gotten out of control as a result."

"You're telling me that you're an exhibitionist Lynette. And that's all?"

"I'm sorry Jerry." She said. "When you say it so...well so clinically, it almost seems less threatening, but more sick, like it's a mental illness. Maybe it is to a degree, but that's not the point. I've made some terrible mistakes but I didn't mean to hurt you and I'll never do anything to hurt you again if you only forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you."

"Are you saying that it never went any further than having Brian's fingers in your pussy Lynette?" I said looking deep into her eyes for her version of the 'whole truth' and wondering why she wouldn't realize how critical it was to be completely truthful.

"Oh Jerry, please, you must know how hard this is for me to admit this." Tears and been falling from her eyes and leaving wet track marks on her cheeks. "I would never do anything to betray the trust you have in me. I only want this terrible nightmare to end so I can come back home and we can put this all behind us."

I reached over and pushed the play button on the tape recorder. I had plugged audio jacks into the surround sound and the familiar sounds and voices from the hotel phone filled the room. I watched as all the color drained from her skin and she trembled at the sounds and words that shattered the illusions she had tried to paint. I stood and left the room as her shaking sobs built to full fledged crying.

Not long after, I heard the front door open and close, and she was gone. I felt anything but victorious, the only feeling that flooded over me was sorrow and pain for what was still being torn stubbornly from deep inside me. On Sunday, I was approached by one of the clergy of our church and asked to visit with representatives of the membership committee. The committee asked me point blank what was happening between me and my wife. I was elusive and suggested that the problems were known only by Lynn, and they would have to ask her.

I understand that later that night, Lynette was summoned before a council and had apparently confessed all her transgressions. She still had not admitted to me all that she had done but apparently she had said enough that night to those in the council, that she was excommunicated from our church. A punishment handed out only for the most egregious transgressions.

Excommunication in our church wasn't a form of vindictive authoritarian punishment, it was supposed to be part of a healing process that brought a person back to ground zero so to speak, and gave them a chance to start over from scratch, but in a close knit community like ours, where most of the neighbors belonged to the same church it also placed a bright spotlight on the guilty person, and anyone closely related to them that made all involved in any way feel self conscious of every whispered comment around them. It was hardest on Lynn, and I couldn't help being proud of the way she seemed to face up to her responsibility for what had happened even if she still hadn't admitted everything to me.

I was actually concerned about her spirit and attitude, and in spite of the pain I had felt, I wanted to help and support her in this process. The next time she came to the house, she was somber and subdued like she was on Saturday, but humble and repentant as well. After we had exchanged formal pleasantries, she looked at me and said. "Jerry, I'm sorry you had to listen to the terrible things I said and did in that hotel room, and I can't justify it in any way. I don't expect you to forget or even let me make it up to you, but I would do anything to make things right again, and show you how much I still love you, even if you cant believe me."

The flood of tears prevented her from saying more, and I was filled with compassion in spite of everything that had happened. After a long emotion filled pause I said, "Lynette, I think you should move back into the house...but it's not time for us to be together again, you can stay in the guest bedroom, or I will for that matter, then we'll see how things go on a day to day basis.

I knew that when anyone was excommunicated from our church, the first real challenge didn't usually for several few days. Some people actually felt instant resentment and turned cold to everyone around immediately, but mostly a person felt humbled and contrite and easily made promises to themselves and everyone else involved; several days later when depression or embarrassment took over, a period followed when either the person found the strength to rise above the errors and their former self and became strong, or they surrendered to doubt and self abuse and became even more immersed in the quagmire of behavior and self abuse that led them to that point in the first place. Time would tell over the next few weeks what course Lynn would take.