Conservatives Ch 01 1

I had just sat down to watch the evening news when I heard the voice of my wife Elizabeth as she approached me.

"What do you think about this dress?" she asked in an uncertain tone.

I looked up from the screen, taking in the attire she had chosen for the campaign fundraiser we were about to attend.

"I love it, you look absolutely beautiful," I complimented her with a smile. Her navy blue dress was both elegant and sexy at the same time. It accentuated her flawless figure, sculpted thanks to her rigorous exercise routine, drawing attention to her perfect breasts and toned legs. Elizabeth is a petite 5'3 with beautiful blue eyes and full lips. Her long blonde hair cascades past her shoulders, making her look younger than her twenty nine years old.

I considered for a moment skipping the fundraiser and talking her into spending the evening in bed, but it wasn't a realistic possibility. The fundraiser was an important event for both of us.

"Did you give instructions to the babysitter?" Elizabeth's practical question brought me back to reality and I reassured her that I had already provided all the necessary details so that our two year old daughter would be well taken care of while we were away.

"I just need to pick earrings and a necklace and I'll be ready," she reassured me as she walked away while I stared at her ass.

There was no doubt that I had punched above my weight when I had convinced Elizabeth to marry me five years prior. I first met Elizabeth in college when she had joined the club of college conservatives that I led. It became clear from the beginning that Elizabeth had strong opinions and a sharp mind, so we often engaged in long conversations about what the club should focus on to be more successful. Our friendship blossomed into a romance pretty quickly, so it did not surprise any of our friends nor families when we announced our engagement shortly after we both graduated. Once we had both secured jobs in our state's capital, Elizabeth started planning for our wedding, which took place a few months later.

Our daughter Maddie was born a couple of years into our marriage, and our current lives, when not at work, revolved around providing her with a stable and happy environment centered around the values Elizabeth and I held dear.

While I pursued my law degree, Elizabeth worked as an assistant to the political director of our state's party, employing her sharp intellect and excellent communication skills to handle media relations and write press releases. After I graduated from law school, I was hired as a staff attorney for one of the most powerful conservative lawmakers in our state. Both of our careers were on solid tracks, and our combined incomes allowed us to have a comfortable life. As we entered the venue for the fundraiser, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the life we had crafted together.

My private thoughts were soon interrupted as I was pulled into a conversation with my colleagues about what it would take to fully outlaw abortions in our state, one of our party's top priorities and a cause both Elizabeth and I supported wholeheartedly. As we debated the potential impact of such legislation, my gaze occasionally drifted towards Elizabeth, who was helping the fundraising team by mingling with current and potential donors.

"Where we do we stand with the votes?" I asked Henry, the speaker of our state's legislature.

"We need one more vote to overcome the governor's veto," he replied. Our state's governor was a democrat who had made it his mission in life to block all our efforts to outlaw abortion.

"Do you have a plan?" I asked Henry.

"I'm working on it. I think there is one democrat who can be persuaded to switch parties given the right incentives," he explained.

"Who?" I asked him, unable to contain my curiosity.

Henry held my gaze for a moment, as if considering if I could be trusted. "Fuck it, Elizabeth will tell you anyway, but keep it confidential ok?"

"Elizabeth already knows?" I asked with a surprised tone.

"Yeah. Ted is in charge of persuading the bastard to join us," he replied. Ted was Elizabeth's boss. As political director of our party he had a knack for finding winning candidates to run for office, so it made sense that he had been put in charge of adding one more member to our caucus. "Anyway, it's Jim Jackson. You know him, right?" asked Henry rhetorically.

"Wow," I exclaimed in surprise. I didn't know Jim Jackson well, but anyone involved in politics in our state knew of him since he was constantly in the spotlight. I had heard rumors that he was corrupt to the core, but as far as I knew the rumors had never been substantiated.

"Wow is right. I think we're close to turning him. I hate the guy but if his vote gives us a veto-proof majority you'll soon see me singing his praises to the media," added Henry with a laugh.

As the event continued, the atmosphere became more animated as the attendees consumed drinks and became louder. When I extricated myself from a conversation that I felt was going in circles to try one of the appetizers, I ran into Hank, a college friend who ran in the same conservative circles as Elizabeth and me. We quickly caught up with each other's lives. Hank was still a bachelor and had a reputation as a ladies man, but he seemed sincere when he told me he envied the family life that I had with Elizabeth.

As we continued talking, Hank's comments took an unexpected twist. He revealed that the wife of a mutual friend had cheated on him, and that she had been caught in the act. I was truly shocked and expressed my surprise, given that the wife in question was known for being very religious. Hank scoffed at my reaction. He believed that all married women were bound to cheat at some point in their lives.

"No way," I blurted out, dismissing his words. "Elizabeth would never cheat on me. Not all women are the same."

Hank's response caught me off guard, since it almost sounded like a challenge. "Would you be willing to bet on it?" he inquired, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

I ignored his question, finding it preposterous and absurd. Elizabeth was the embodiment of loyalty. It was inconceivable to imagine her engaging in such behavior. With a forced chuckle, I steered the conversation towards other topics, eager to divert our attention from the uncomfortable exchange.

As the evening wore on, my eyes scanned the room in search of Elizabeth. It was almost time for us to leave, and I hoped to catch a glimpse of her to signal our impending departure. Yet, she seemed to be nowhere in sight. I assumed she had slipped away to the ladies' room or was outside the main room engaged in a conversation that had caught her attention.

I was about to text her when I spotted her entering the main room from one of the large side doors. I couldn't be sure since she was across the room and I kept losing sight of her among the large crowd, but she looked slightly disheveled and her cheeks were flushed with a hint of color. I thought for a moment that she may have drank too much alcohol, but that explanation was quickly replaced by a more worrying one when I saw Hank enter the room through the same door that Elizabeth had used. Had he been talking to Elizabeth in private? Had he kissed her? A surge of uneasiness rippled through me as our gazes connected. He had a smirk on his face as he winked at me. In that moment, irrational thoughts surged forward, fueled by the comments he had made earlier. But as quickly as the whirlwind of doubts arose, I fiercely dismissed them as nothing more than baseless paranoia. It was inconceivable to entertain such a scenario--a betrayal unfolding before my very eyes.

Gathering my composure, I approached Elizabeth, determined to suppress the thoughts that had momentarily clouded my mind. With a smile, I reached her side, the warmth of her presence soothing my crazy thoughts. As I reminded her we had to leave soon, I cast a final glance in Hank's direction, dismissing his enigmatic wink as a lame attempt to mess with me.

After returning home feeling exhausted, I paid the babysitter with a grateful smile, glad to hear that everything had gone well and that our little Maddie was already fast asleep. I peeked into her room, catching a glimpse of her angelic face, before making my way to our bedroom.

Climbing into bed, I was ready to sleep as soon as my head hit my pillow. But before I could drift off, Elizabeth joined me, completely naked, giggling as she snuggled up to me. Just in case her intentions had not been clear, she immediately started kissing me with more passion than usual.

As I happily enjoyed her kisses, I couldn't help but wonder for a split second if there was something more behind her clear arousal. Did something happen between her and Hank at the event? The thought darted across my mind, briefly stirring my insecurities. But I brushed it off, unwilling to let suspicion taint the moment.

Wrapped in each other's arms, we made love in a familiar way, enjoying the chemistry that existed between us. As I concentrated in bringing her to a climax, an unwanted image flashed through my mind. I pictured Hank and Elizabeth together in the hallway outside the main room where the event had been held, with his fingers buried in her pussy. It didn't help that Elizabeth was panting rapidly, signaling that she was close. I tried to push the image away, but when Elizabeth finally orgasmed, I could not help but wonder if she had been thinking about Frank as we made love. The idea should have revolted me but instead, it triggered one of the strongest orgasms of my life.

I didn't think of that night for months afterward as both work and family life kept both us extremely busy. The reminder came at another political fundraising event, fueled by plenty of alcohol, when I found myself face to face with Hank once again. Laughter flowed freely as we caught up on each other's lives. With liquid courage coursing through my veins, I playfully teased Hank about his lack of faith on the loyalty of married women, once again boasting that Elizabeth would never cheat on me.

"Are you sure about that?" Hank's face got serious for an instant, before he seemed to reconsider what he had just said and admitting that I was right.

The way he asked me that question shook me out of my happy mood. All of a sudden doubts flooded my mind. Did Hank know something that I didn't? I had no reason whatsoever to doubt Elizabeth. I should have been able to dismiss all doubts about her loyalty to me as absurd and yet, I could not help but feel that I was missing something.

In the weeks that followed the event, I quickly forgot Hank's words and the seed of doubt they had planted in my mind. And yet, I started noticing changes in Elizabeth that at first I did not connect together. One of them was Elizabeth's increased dedication to working out almost every day. It didn't take long until one day, with a big smile, she shared with me her excitement about reaching her pre-pregnancy weight, her hard work at the gym paying off in ways that boosted her self-confidence.

And then there were her clothing choices. I couldn't help but notice the way she began embracing more revealing outfits. One time in particular, I had almost questioned her before choosing to bite my tongue about the dress she chose to wear to a cocktail reception. On that night, Elizabeth had decided to wear a daring red dress that left little to the imagination. The dress clung to her curves, accentuating her small waist, and the low neckline revealed her ample cleavage. Her slender legs were highlighted by the thigh-high split, and the fabric clung to her body, highlighting her hourglass figure. With her hair swept up in an elegant hairdo and her makeup flawlessly applied, she looked like every man's wet dream.

As I recalled how much male attention she had attracted at the event, a flicker of unease stirred within me, but I brushed it off, reminding myself that she was simply proud of achieving her weight loss goal and deserved to show off her body a little bit.

Yet, the memory of a long-ago conversation with one of my friends lingered in the recesses of my mind. We had laughed and joked about the telltale signs of a cheating wife, which included hitting the gym more frequently than usual, and wearing more provocative clothes.

"Stop being paranoid," I chided myself, shaking off the doubts that threatened to cloud my judgment. Elizabeth had given me no reason to doubt her loyalty and her commitment to our marriage. I clung to the belief that this was all mere coincidence, a product of my overactive imagination.

Nevertheless, a small seed of doubt refused to leave the back of my mind. Feeling stupid, I decided to follow Elizabeth discreetly one Monday morning, anticipating that it would be in vain. Just as I expected, Elizabeth followed her usual routine, dropping our daughter Maddie at our church's daycare, heading to the gym, and then proceeding to her office. I felt relieved but not completely at peace, so I followed her for three more days without observing anything out of the ordinary. On the fifth day, I was about to give up after Elizabeth dropped Maddie off and head to my office instead of trailing her car, but I told myself that since it was a Friday I might as well continue following her to finish the week.

I kept my distance from her car as usual, expecting her to turn in the direction of her gym, when she unexpectedly went straight, deviating from her usual route. My heart skipped a beat as I watched her drive towards an unknown destination. We left our city's residential area and were soon in a busy road flanked by used car dealerships and strip malls. Finally she turned into the parking lot of a motel, and I drove past it before making a quick u-turn and parking in an adjoining parking lot from which I had a clear view of her car.

Elizabeth stepped out of her car and walked with a purposeful stride, climbing the outdoor staircase to the second floor and walking along the walkway until she reached one of the rooms. She knocked on the door and then stepped inside the room without waiting for whoever was inside to open the door for her.

I was stunned as I considered the implications of what I was observing. Her actions left little room for doubt about the reason why she was at a seedy motel in the middle of the day. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as I sat in my car, feeling trapped.

I dialed her number in desperation, but it went straight to voicemail so I hung up. Without a plan in mind, I got out of my car and crossed into the motel's parking lot. I tried to guess which car might belong to whoever was in the room with Elizabeth, but it was pointless. I climbed the steps until I reached the long corridor that led to the room and walked slowly, trying to come up with a plan. Should I knock on the door? Kick it down? In the end, after looking around to confirm nobody was watching me, I cupped my ear against the door. I could hear muffled voices within the room, but could not tell what they were saying.

The sound of a door opening behind me startled me. I did not want to look like a peeping Tom, so I immediately started walking along the corridor until I reached another staircase that led down to the parking lot. I turned around discreetly and saw an elderly woman slowly walking away in the opposite direction. I went down to my car and got inside, watching with impatience as the old woman made her way down the stairs, got into a beaten-up car, and slowly drove away.

After verifying once again that there was nobody else around, I quickly retraced my steps until I reached the door of the room that Elizabeth had entered earlier. This time I didn't need to cup my ear before I could figure out what was happening inside. The rhythmic thumping of the bed was loud and clear, along with the high-pitched moans of my wife and the deep grunts of whoever was with her.

"Ahh... ahh... ahh... fuck... fuck... ahh... ahh... ahh..." she whined nonstop.

My brain was frozen tried to process what my ears were hearing. Incongruously, my first thought was that Elizabeth was never this loud when we made love. A blinding rage followed, and I was ready to kick the door down when two teenagers suddenly stumbled out of another room a few doors down the long corridor, whooping and hollering. I swiftly turned around and with a determined pace walked back to my car.

I sat down and banged on the steering wheel, letting my anger out. I then leaned my head against the headrest, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I know knew enough about what was transpiring in the motel room and felt no desire to eavesdrop any further. Instead, I decided to wait for Elizabeth to come out.

Two hours passed, each minute dragging like an eternity. Finally, the door of the motel room swung open and Elizabeth emerged, looking out of place in her tight workout clothes. She swiftly made her way to her car, her movements both purposeful and guarded.

I remained hidden, my gaze never leaving her as she drove away, carrying with her the secrets of her encounter. My heart was beating hard inside my chest, and for a moment I was afraid that I was having a heart attack. I took a deep breath and continued waiting, hoping to find out who she had met with. My mind raced, searching for answers, attempting to reconcile the woman I knew with the reality that now confronted me. The only name that came to mind was Hank's. It would explain his puzzling words the last time I ran into him. I felt a murderous rage towards him and started imagining what it would feel like to kill him, but my violent thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I noticed that the door of the motel room was swinging open.

It took me a second to recognize the face of the tall figure that emerged from the room. It was Jim Jackson, the state legislator from the opposition that our party had been trying to persuade to switch sides. Shock coursed through my veins, a cocktail of confusion and disbelief. It was as if the world had conspired to shatter every preconceived notion I had. He was literally the last person I expected to see come out of the room. It wasn't just that he was black, a rarity in our conservative circles despite our best outreach efforts, but he was also more than twenty years older than Elizabeth. It had never occurred to me that Elizabeth could ever be attracted to a much older man, much less a black one. It wasn't that my wife was a racist person, but she had grown up in a very sheltered, mostly white small town where people of other races were viewed with suspicion. While her mother was practically a saint and I had never heard her say anything negative about anybody, I knew that her father had very strong, negative opinions about black people.

While I tried to make sense of the situation, Jim had come down to the parking lot and had gotten into his car, a large black Cadillac parked not far away from where I was parked. It was only when I saw his car turn into the busy road that I realized that I had been gripping the steering wheel of my car tightly, as if trying to hold on to something solid while the world around me fell apart.

Later that day, the weight of the truth pressing heavily upon my chest, I returned home. A facade of normalcy enveloped our house. I watched as Elizabeth finished cleaning up in the kitchen and lovingly put Maddie to sleep, while I tried my best to hide my emotions and remain calm. It was only when she sat down at our kitchen table with a glass of wine that I mustered the courage to confront her. With a tremor in my voice, I spoke, my words catching in my throat, "Elizabeth, we need to talk."

She turned to face me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of fear and anguish. A stricken look passed across her face, as if she already knew what I was about to say.