John wished he could have taken that back. He just admitted that he wanted Diane to blow him. There was no escaping this now. He was in it neck deep.
"John, you yanked her hair and when she screamed you stuck your cock in her mouth and put a hand to the back of her head forcing her to blow you. You ejaculated in my sister's mouth, you pig," said Susan shooting her husband an angry look. "Do you remember that? Do you remember cumming off in my sister's mouth? You're lucky she didn't report you to the police. You're lucky she wasn't still married to Michael. Michael would have beat the shit out of you for what you did to her."
"So your sister blew me. So what? And Michael is no saint either. He's done worse. I've been with Michael at some of the strip clubs he dragged me to see and seen some of the strippers he bragged about having done. Besides, I don't remember any of that, forcing your sister to blow me. I remember her coming on to me and not resisting me when I returned her attention. She was the one who left the bathroom door wide open, while she was sitting on the toilet and she was the one who invited me inside. She unzipped me, pulled out my cock, and sucked me off. We both had too much to drink."
"Okay, enough, John. I really don't want to hear the sordid, incestuous details of you having sex with my baby sister. All I know is that, while I was downstairs cleaning up the kitchen, you were upstairs having sex with my sister." She flashed him a look of anger. "And what about my Mom? Do you remember my Mom catching you with my sister in the bedroom, later?"
"Yeah, well, I was still very drunk. We both were. Even your mother was."
"John, when my Mom pulled you away from my sister, you bent my mom over the bed, pulled her skirt up over her back and her panties down to her ankles and fucked her like a dog. You were out of control. Do you remember tearing her blouse wide open and lifting her bra over her breasts? My mom was crying," said Susan with tears suddenly appearing in her eyes. "My mom told me you forced her. She was so distraught. My dad was the only man my mom had ever known and was ever with and you defiled that sacred union by fucking my mom," she said wiping the tears away with her hand that ran down her cheeks.
Suddenly, the image of Susan's mom bent over the bed and moaning, while his cock slid deeper in her pussy filled his mind with lustful desire for his mother-in-law. He remembered she had big, firm tits, a D cup, where Susan and Diane both have C cups. He remembered fingering Mommy's big nipples, while he fucked her from behind, doggie style, and as soon as he touched her nipples, she was wild with desire for him. She wasn't crying then, when his cock was buried deep inside her, in and out. She was having a fucking good time is how he remembered, while returning the rhythm of his humps with hers. Bark like a dog, he said to her, as he slapped her ass and she did.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
It's funny, he remembered thinking, how people bark like the dog that they own. Big dog owners bark in a deeper voice and small dog owners bark in a higher pitched voice. It's weird.
"No. I don't remember that," he said lying through his teeth. "I don't remember anything. We've already been over this again and again, a thousand times. I told you, I was drunk and depressed. I told you, I wasn't myself. I told you and I told your sister and your mother that I'm sorry."
"You weren't so drunk and depressed that you couldn't get it up to force my sister to blow you and my mom to fuck you like an animal."
"I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. How many times can I say I'm sorry? Can we just drop it?" He looked at his wife wondering if he should burst her bubble of the image she had of her oh so self-righteous mother and decided he should. "And your mother is no innocent virgin. I didn't hear her screaming rape. I remember her moaning. I remember her enjoying it. I remember her returning my humps and taking my cock in deeper, while your sister watched me fucking her mother. Mommy took all that I had to give her. Maybe I was the first man who had his cock in her pussy, since your Dad died, and maybe I was only the second man she ever experienced sexually, but she was hungry for it."
"That's quite enough, John! Stop! I don't want to hear anymore," she said putting her hands over her ears. "Don't you ever talk about my mother like that, again," she said pointing a stiff index finger at him. "My mom is a saint, virtuous, religious, and was devoted to my dad. My dad was the only man she had been intimate with and for you to take that away from her is unforgivable."
"I'm sorry, Susan. I really am. I promise not to drink today, not a drop. And somehow, I'll make it up to your mother. I will. I'll go over to her house, clean her pool, clear her gutters, mow her lawn, rake her leaves, and shovel her snow, until the day I die. "
"Okay, let's just forget it ever happened. We were all very drunk that day, too drunk. My sister admitted that she was horny and my Mom admitted that she was lonely. They both understand you were drunk and depressed and that it will never, ever happen again. It was the perfect storm for something like that to have happened, I understand that now and I apologize again for hitting you over the head with a vodka bottle. They forgave you. I forgive you and when you woke up in the hospital, you forgave me. It happened. It's history. It's over and it's done."
John looked at his wife. She was so very beautiful. With her long, dark hair serving as a lush backdrop against her bright, green eyes, making her look like what he imagined a forest nymph or a sexy sea siren beckoning sailors from the shore would resemble, he always thought how lucky he was to get someone who looked like her. From the first day he met her a dozen years ago, at 5'9" inches tall and with the long legged body of a Goddess, she reminded him of Lynda Carter, of Miss America and Wonder Woman fame. They could have been sisters, that is, when Lynda Carter was younger, her age, 32, and in her prime. Now, Lynda has more than 20 years seniority on Susan.
Only, she hurt him. He found out recently that Susan had been having an affair with her boss, before her boss was fired and she let go. She had lied to him about the affair, about being unfaithful, and about being fired. She said she was laid-off. Now, he wondered, if she lied about all of that, what else had she lied to him about?
Maybe she was lying about loving him. Maybe her boss hadn't been the first one. Maybe there were more men in her life that she was doing on the side and behind his back. All he knew was he couldn't trust her anymore and he was heartbroken. He felt betrayed. He was angry. He wanted revenge.
He couldn't help but feel used and abused and it all came to a head after the Thanksgiving day dinner. He reacted in a drunken rage to all the mean and nasty things Diane had said and forced her sister to blow him, before forcing himself on her big mouth, interfering bitch of a mother. Yeah, sure, her more than willing sister and accommodating mother were hardly victims. They enjoyed him as much as he enjoyed them. In his twisted mind, having her sister blow him and her mother fuck him was his convoluted way of getting back at his wife for what she did to him by cheating on him with her boss.
Yeah, sure, he had sex with her sister and her mother, but when he thought more about what he had done in the clarity of sobriety, what did having Susan's sister blow him and her mother fuck him have anything to do with Susan having an affair with her boss? Nothing. He had skirted the issue and Susan had gotten away with doing her boss without punishment and without having to suffer the consequences of her actions with befitting repercussions. She didn't even have to admit and apologize to him for what she had done. She's the one who started all of this by having the affair and, now, she's playing the hurt victim.
He wanted to put her over his knee and spank her. Just the imagined thought of him grabbing her by her wrist, pulling her forward and forcing her down over his knee, gave him an erection. He imagined lifting her skirt and pulling down her panties, as all his friends watched him discipline his unfaithful slut of a wife.
Maybe, he'd do it in the backyard, while she was prancing around in her bikini and after she's had a few drinks. Boy, that would shock the shit out of her and embarrass her by exposing her round, white ass to all his friends, while he spanked her ass raw red. The imagined feel of his hand hitting her round firm buttocks again and again made him want to arrange that kind of public display of humiliation as his payback for how she hurt him by having sex with her boss. Much like the scarlet woman that she was, he wanted to strip her naked and exposed her to everyone. He wanted to take her somewhere and strip her in public. More than embarrassing her, he wanted to humiliate her, as much as she had humiliated him. The thought of her being embarrassed, humiliated, and mortified, the thought of her showing her body to other men, men they both knew and men who were strangers, filled him with a twisted lust to want to go ahead and give his wife a good public spanking.
Because she was so beautiful and had him twisted around her finger, he had avoided confronting his wife with all that he knew about her sordid affair. Just looking at her melted his heart and made him her subservient puppet. Tired of her controlling him by using his lust for her against him with her beauty and body, he needed to do something more, something that would affect her personally. He needed to do something that would awaken her to his feelings, as to how she hurt him by being with another man. He needed to teach her a lesson and give her a lasting memory. He needed to give her something she'd never forget and that would make her think twice about cheating on him or on anyone ever again.
