"Oh yes, Jenny oh yes, yes, yes," he said as I ran my fingers along the crease in his bum as he fucked me. "That's so good."
It didn't register at first, but then it hit me.
"Jenny, what the fuck do you mean Jenny?" I shouted at my husband.
"I said honey," he replied.
"Don't lie, I heard what you said and I know who you mean it's that little tart at the golf club isn't it?" I said pushing him off and feeling his cock sliding out of me.
Fuming I got out of bed and switched the light on.
"Get out," I screamed.
"What do you mean?"
"Get out of the house that's it, I've had enough, just fuck off out of my life," I nearly screamed at him as I slipped into a pale blue, silk robe and tied the sash up tight round the waist.
*
It was the third time I had caught him cheating although I suspected that there were more and I really had had enough. We screamed and shouted at each other as he packed a suitcase.
"What's going on mum?" my nineteen year old daughter Sally asked as she came downstairs in what served as her pyjamas a white singlet and pale blue shorts to where I was in the lounge drinking a glass of wine.
As I waited for him to go I explained to her as best I could what had happened and told her that her dad was leaving. As I said that I heard the front door crash shut and his car starting up. 'He's gone,' I said to myself half pleased, but also half scared of the future.
"Oh Christ mum I am so sorry," she said pouring herself a glass of white wine and sitting down opposite me across the glass topped coffee table.
I explained that it had happened several times before and that this was the final straw.
"What the one that broke the camel's back?" she smiled putting her hand on mine and squeezing it. That felt nice and I smiled my gratitude to her.
"Thanks Sal," I said looking at the beautiful young creature that the bastard of my husband Paul and I had created.
"Mum, I really am so, so sorry," she whispered her eyes filling with tears.
That got to me and I started to cry as well. "We'll be ok, don't worry love," I whispered getting up and moving round the table to sit beside her on the sofa.
"I know mum we'll make it work, just you and me now, the rotten bastard's gone."
"No Sally don't think of him like that he is still your dad."
Sitting very close with our legs and shoulders frequently touching we discussed the future for a while until Sally said. "Let's get pissed mum, I'll get some more wine."
*
Sally is our only child. We had considered more but somehow we were both too busy with our work and our social lives we just never got round to it. She and I had always been close. We looked similar with both of us having blonde hair, hers long and tumbling onto and past her shoulders and mine shorter in more of a bob style with a fringes sweeping across my forehead. Sally was wonderfully slim with long, slender legs to die for and a bum that was so pert it looked as if it had been manufactured. I was of a slightly sturdier build and body shape than she weighing in at around nine and half stone or one thirty five pounds. Although she had shapely boobs this was the area of our bodies where mum with my 34C boobs came out a clear winner for Sally was desperately disappointed with her 32 A cups. We had discussed her having a boob job, but I had persuaded her out of doing that so far for her frame was slender and C or larger on her would look out of balance.
I was flattered that occasionally we were mistaken as sisters even though, oddly that tended to be only by guys and then usually when we were sunbathing or alone in a bar.
Life with Paul had got increasingly difficult in the past few years. We both owned small businesses and worked very hard in them, but I made sure that I never left Sally out in the cold and that I spent quality time with her although Paul did not see things that way. We rowed more and more and often Sally was at the core of the argument with Paul accusing me of always taking her side against him and being far too lenient and generous towards her. But then we were well off financially so why not I thought?
Paul had always been a flirt, which I should have realised before we married that he was more than that and was a real player. Twice I had caught him kissing other women whilst we were engaged, but I had forgiven him so I should not have been surprised when he started it again after we were married. To some extent, after the second or was it the third time I had found him cheating on me I almost accepted and was of the mind to have an open marriage with him. That is until I factored Sally into the equation for I could not envisage me going out with other men and getting laid and telling her lies.
As Sally went and got the wine I sat on the sofa wondering just what the hell the future might bring for a forty something divorced woman with a nearly twenty year old daughter. I began to sob and when she returned with the bottle she saw the tears streaming down my face.
"Oh mum stop it come on," she said taking me in her arms and cuddling me. She pulled my face against her chest and I felt the softness of her small boob pressing against my cheek. I stayed like for a while as she stroked my hair and held me tight; it felt nice and made me feel secure and better.
I told her that I would be ok and sat up. We held both of each other's hands resting them on her bare knees as we stared at each other seemingly not knowing what to say or do. But then she started to cry and of course that started me off again and once more we were in each other's arms though this time the top halves of our bodies were pressed together so that my larger breasts somewhat engulfed hers. Although we were a rather touchy feely family this much contact with Sally was making me feel odd, but I could not quite put my finger on why and precisely how.
