Unknown - Racial swap-night

Feeling like she had been punched in the stomach by his unconscious rejection of her, Alyce smothered her face in the pillow and tried to keep from screaming out her sorrow.

The next day there was to be some sort of open house at the tennis club for new members so Eddie did not have to get up early. He rose and went downstairs to make his protein drink in the blender. Alyce was sitting in the kitchen, tensely, going over the newspaper with blank eyes and she did not greet him when he came into the kitchen.

Complete silence reigned although the atmosphere was charged with vibrations so heavy they could have been sliced and packaged.

Eddie dressed and almost left the house without saying goodbye when he remembered something.

"Oh, by the way, Alyce, don't forget we're going over to the Marsdale's tonight…"

"Okay," she said, not looking up from her paper.

Then he was gone. Alyce got up and watched him until he was out of sight, then she slammed the door and stumbled up to her bedroom in a fit of rage. At least he could have the decency to let me know what he's up to, she fumed. I am owed some kind of explanation for his behavior the last week. If it's another woman, I want to know. I have the right to know.

Realizing that she was hardly going to solve any of her problems by lying in bed, she decided to busy herself with some of the things she had been putting off. Still angry, she began wandering around the house picking up the dirty clothes to take to the laundry. In the bathroom hamper she found one of Eddie's tennis shirts and covering the little embroidered racquet in the corner was a big smear of red lipstick!

Alyce thought she almost could have rationalized that lipstick. It could have been an enthusiastic student or something but it was the hardened, thick glob on the inside of his shorts that convicted him in her mind. She stared at the whitish blob of his cum and knew now without a doubt that he had been with another woman! Eddie, her husband of three months was tucking around!

Once again, feeling like she had been punched in the stomach, Alyce wondered just how much she could stand. Dully, she walked over to the sofa, not feeling like taking her husband's cum-stained laundry to the cleaners but not knowing what else to do.

Dully, her eyes fixed themselves on the small bar. She went to it, like a magnet poured herself a stiff tumbler of scotch and drank it off in four gulps, feeling the fiery liquid boil into her guts, numbing her brain and tingling through her tense body. She wanted to stop the raging thoughts; push them into oblivion, anything to blot out the memory, the knowledge that her husband was already involved in an affair with another woman after only a few months of marriage.

Alyce was confident of her looks, indeed she knew that she was beautiful and desirable. As if to check, she went into the bathroom, removed her robe and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

Critically, she examined her reflection, smoothing her hands over generous breasts and the swell of hips and thighs, turning to look at the rounded, firm buttocks and finding no flaw in her svelte figure. She knew that she was fully developed, feminine and capable of much love.

Now, she examined the soft, fleecy triangle of her pubic mound, turned to examine, in turn, the tight split of her vaginal opening; finally, standing again, using her hands to pull up her breasts to full mounds of femaleness, trying to pose provocatively, lewdly, obscenely. She found the poses totally alien to her character.

Her own face came back into focus and she was startled for a second. She had been sick with worry and her face showed it.

What am I going to do?

Suddenly the front doorbell sounded and Alyce barely hesitated. She certainly was not in the mood for any company but she did not want to be caught in the middle of the day still in her bathrobe. Hurriedly, she grabbed a summer shift from the closet, shrugging it on over her and smoothing it down over her hips and breasts not bothering to put on panties or a bra. Rapidly, she ran a brush through her golden hair and went to answer the front door.

Standing there his hands on his hips not in his usual tennis garb was Clay Marsdale, her husband's boss.

She was startled. "Why, Mr. Marsdale, what can I do for you? Eddie's already gone over to the open house."

"I didn't come here to see Eddie," he said in a very stern sounding voice. "May I come in? It's important."

"Oh, certainly," she swung the door wide for him. "Please come in. Forgive me. I'm a little out of it today," she said, stumbling over her words.

Marsdale entered and sat down on the edge of a chair and refused her offer for refreshment, liquid or otherwise.

"Something very important has come up," he said in a very menacing tone.

Alyce was really mystified. Why would Clay Marsdale have anything important to discuss with her?

"What is it, Mr. Marsdale?" she began. Worriedly, she sank down on the sofa, being careful of the manner of her sitting, aware that she had no underwear on in front of this strange man.

Clay leered at her barely able to conceal his lust. His eyes had caught the fact that she was not wearing anything underneath her summer shift; additionally, he had caught the smell of liquor on her breath, and he knew that all was not well in the Frampton household.

"Mrs. Frampton, there's no need now for beating about the bush," he said his lips pulling back into a tight line. "No doubt, you are aware of the fact that your husband did not arrive home until almost daylight and that he probably offered no explanation for his behavior."

Alyce gasped and covered her face from him with acute humiliation. She didn't answer him. Dear God, did everyone know about Eddie's infidelity except her?

"You know, don't you?" his voice was harsh, demanding.

"Yes," she said dully.

"Do you have any idea where he was during those long hours away from you?" he probed unmercifully, acting like some kind of inquisitor of prisoners.

"No, I don't," her voice squeaked out.

"I know where he was!" He had waited quietly for a couple of moments before dropping his bombshell.

Alyce's reaction was immediate. Her head jerked up. She stared in horror, her face a mask of stunned hopelessness. "Where… how can you know?"

"I know where your husband was because he was with my wife, nina!"

The young blonde wished at that moment that a hole would open in her living room floor so she could be swallowed up and would not have to face this shock and embarrassment. She again covered her lovely young face with her hands, blocking her from his leering gaze.

"With Nina… your wife?" she stuttered out almost inaudibly from behind her hands.

"Yes, in fact, I filmed the entire thing on video tape and I want you to come over to my house to see it," he said.

"Dear God, no!" she cried and flung herself down on the couch, her dress rising with her movement to reveal her long, smoothly tapering legs to the lustful gaze of Clay Marsdale.

He allowed her to stay that way for a few moments, then went to sit beside her on the couch to soothe her with words of sympathy.

"Now, now, Mrs. Frampton. I know how you must feel. How shocking it is to find out that your husband has been unfaithful."

Then, gently, he raised her up, continuing. "But you must remember that I've been cuckolded too. My own wife was with your husband!"

"Of course, you're right," she murmured, "I'd almost forgotten."

"Now, Mrs. Frampton, I don't know what you propose to do about your husband, but I assure you that I am going to take some kind of action and soon!" he said, almost frightening her with the force of his words.

Uncertainty and confusion were swirling through her. She did not want to have to make decisions at a time like this. "I just don't know. I need some time to think…"