CHAPTER THREE
For several seconds Lucy refused to believe what she held in her hand. And then, when there was no doubt it was a pair of woman's panties, she tried to find every possible legitimate reason why they should be where she had found them. There weren't any.
Some prankster threw them in the car. Under the seat? The panties were some kind of new line Tom's company was handling. A building materials company?
They certainly weren't a new pair he'd bought her for a surprise. They'd obviously been worn. The crotch was still a little damp, as if they'd recently been very wet. And there was no mistaking the aroma of pussy juice that wafted up to her nostrils when Lucy sniffed. Then she saw the stain that had been left by Hot Lips on the seat-cover when Tom's finger had brought her to orgasm.
"That rotten bastard!" Lucy said as the truth finally became apparent. "Oh, that bastard!"
Anger was beginning to boil inside the betrayed young housewife, and given another minute or two to collect herself, she would have stormed in the house and confronted her husband with the evidence.
"Lucy? You find the checkbook okay? I got to go or I'll be late."
He was entering the garage. Lucy was still too hurt and confused to have taken any positive direction, so she frantically stuffed the panties in the pocket of her housecoat before Tom had a chance to see them.
"Oh… sure. Got it right here," she said numbly. She thought her eyes must be popping right out of her head the way she stared at her husband. Tom looked puzzled.
"Anything wrong?"
"Uh, no… Uh, see you tonight." And Lucy darted out of the garage.
"Hey! I may be a little late again tonight. Got an important customer," Tom yelled after her. His only answer was the slamming of the back door. Tom shook his bead slowly. "What the hell's got into her?" he muttered as he got into the car and started the engine. He shrugged. "Women!"
Inside the house, Lucy stood with a blank look, stunned, until she heard Tom pull out of the drive.
"Bastard!" she screamed as his car disappeared down the street. She stood there for the next five minutes, trembling with emotion, until her hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out the pair of panties. She collapsed into a chair and stand at them, and then doubts began to flow.
"Maybe there's some perfectly logical explanation," she said to herself. "Of course! The bastard has been screwing other women!"
"I should just ask him when he comes home." But she knew it wouldn't be easy for her. If she confronted him, she knew she might come unglued. God! If the reason he had been leaving her so horny and unfulfilled was because he'd been lavishing his cock on other women, she'd – she'd kill him! But all he'd have to do was deny it. She knew what a smooth-talking devil he was – Tom wasn't a salesman for nothing. He'd make her feel guilty for accusing him. But if she just let it fester inside her.
Wait! What was that he had said about being home late again? Certainly he wasn't going to do it again tonight, fuck some other woman? But then, maybe he was!
Suddenly Lucy knew what she was going to do. She'd follow Tom and find out for sure.
The housework got the shaft that morning. After taking a shower and putting on the most unobtrusive clothing she had, Lucy went out to rent a car. She knew Tom would recognize hers if she followed him in her own. She rented a small, nondescript sedan and drove it home. She had a long afternoon to get through, but managed it with the aid of several belts of booze.
After tucking her long blonde hair under a small cap, Lucy finally left the house.
She knew that Tom had to check into the office when he was finished for the day. If he was telling the truth about having to stay late with a customer, his car wouldn't be in the company lot at the usual quitting time.
But it was. Lucy wanted to cry as she sat across the street and stared at the big station wagon. She tried to convince herself he didn't have to work late after all and would be driving home soon. Then how would she explain her absence and the rented car?
"There he is!" Lucy said as she saw Tom come out of the office and get into his car. She shrank down in her seat as he pulled out into the street only a few yards away from where she was parked. Then she nearly lost him as she fumbled in her haste and killed the engine. But she caught him in traffic, staying several cars back.
It soon became evident he wasn't heading home. And later it was clearer still he wasn't going into the industrial park. She pulled over to the curb as she saw Tom park outside a bar. Maybe he's just going in for a drink, she thought, but within fifteen minutes, Tom came back out, with a woman on his arm, a redhead.
Lucy almost confronted him there, but decided to follow and see if she could actually catch him in the act. The pursuit was short, and a few minutes later Tom was pulling up into the driveway of a small house. Lucy drove past and parked around the corner.
Lucy wanted to catch Tom and the woman fucking, and by the time she had made up her mind to do it no matter what, it was getting dark. Lucy got out of the car and walked back toward the house. About twenty minutes had passed. Tom and the woman had plenty of time to begin.
Lucy's plan was to pound on the front door and demand to be let in. That would teach the sneaky bastard! She had a triumphant image of his leaping out of bed, frantically pulling his clothes on.
But when she approached the house, she saw the living room windows were dark. They might hear her. Maybe the back door would be better.
Lucy was nearing the back door when she saw light streaming from a window. The window was surrounded by thick shrubbery which masked it from the view of anyone outside the yard. Lucy hesitated a moment, then moved toward the window as if an outside force were guiding her feet.
Probably because of the screening bushes, the curtains hadn't been pulled. Lucy could see most of the inside of the well-lighted room. It was a bedroom, a woman's bedroom, judging by the clothing that hung in the closet. But Lucy wasn't interested in the clothing. All her attention, was centered on the two people in the big double bed. The bed was right under the window, and Lucy found herself looking straight down at Tom and the redhead. Lucy gasped as she realized they were both naked. What she hadn't really dared expect was that they would be fucking.
Lucy suddenly felt dizzy, and had to grab hold of the window sill to steady herself. She was afraid for a moment that they would see her, but then realized she would be invisible in the darkness.
Why should I do if they see me? she asked.
They should be the ones who care! She wanted to shout and scream and pound on the window, but found herself unable to move as she watched the lewd scene unfolding before her.
He was lying on his back, his swollen cock thrusting up from his body, the other end, it sunk in the redhead's mouth. She was sucking Tom's cock!
Lucy watched her husband lying there with that same overjoyed expression on his face he had every time she ate his cock. And, apparently, every time someone else did, too. His familiar big prick was sliding in and out of the redhead's mouth as she bobbed her head enthusiastically over Tom's loins. She was squatting between his legs, her heavy tits cupped in Tom's hands.
He's going to come in her mouth! Lucy thought as she watched. She wondered why she was just standing there, doing nothing, but it was as if her body were frozen. She noticed the redhead was very pretty, with full, round hips and a slender waist.
An avalanche of unrelated thoughts were streaming through Lucy's confused mind. She wondered how it felt to the redhead to be fucking someone else's husband. The ring on Tom's finger was very obvious. She couldn't get over the realization that Tom reacted to another woman's blowing him as he did when she blew him. It wasn't special at all, she realized.