Pictures Never Lie: A Love Story Pt. 03-2

But Murphy just acted like she was his sister for the entire day.

That must have really ratcheted up her insecurity, while substantiating the fact that he was a man who she could really lean on.

Janet had told me that up until the time she met me she had never known a man she could trust. When you look at that beautiful face and stunning body, it is hard to blame the male population for trying to undress her whenever they could.

So after Murphy proved that he could resist her charms for a day, I am sure that Janet was trustingly compliant and probably utterly dependent on him.

Okay, so up to this point “not-guilty.”

That brought me to the nub of the matter. She had been brutally descriptive and almost too detailed in describing how she had fucked him last night.

That gave her “honesty” points, in that she had held nothing back in the telling.

When she described the sex itself she made it clear that she had been “all-in” during the very short time they were fucking. I appreciated her desire to have no secrets between us. But the pictures that put in my head were killing me.

Nevertheless, her description of the fucking itself also told me important things about the underlying act, which she might not have realized she had given me.

Janet is plain and simple the best fuck I have ever known, hands down; totally passionate and giving of herself.

But she is also as much a taker.

She needs to be thoroughly fucked in order to be satisfied and one round, even from a porn stud, wouldn’t do it for her, EVER.

What she did last night was a single relatively short bout in the missionary position, which is completely out of her norm.

She didn’t blow him afterward for seconds, which is practically a ritual with her. And she didn’t stay around to do it twice, which is almost unheard of with Janet.

So it was reasonable to assume that her spreading her thighs for that incredible mother-fucker and then bolting home was more evidence of a moment of weakness, than a long-standing and highly developed fascination with his cock.

IF she had stayed overnight with him, or fucked him for hours it would be all over between us.

But it was forgivable if it had been a one-time quickie that was the result of concerted seduction, as it appeared to be in this instance.

The best part was that I could check on that by simply calling Sarah and asking about the timing. I decided to make the call.

Sarah picked up on the first ring. I had the feeling that she was waiting for me. I said, “Sarah, I assume you know about our problems.”

She said, “I just got off the phone with my sister. Janet is an idiot but she sounded eerily determined and motivated. She was a total wreck all week and now she is talking like she is getting ready to do battle.”

I laughed at the image of my exquisite little wife armored up like a Spartan hoplite. I said, “How long was she gone last night?”

Sarah said, “She went over to that guy’s place at 5:30 and she was back here by 9:00.

I know what you are thinking; that I would lie to cover up for her. But thanks to my dear husband’s escapades I hate cheaters. And I want them to all rot in hell, even if they are my own kin.”

“I swear that Janet was only gone three and a half hours, which included travel time and dinner. And she didn’t have that thoroughly fucked look when she came home, pardon my French.”

I laughed again and said. “I thought that was a Saxon word and thanks for the information. That helps a lot.” We both hung up.

Okay, so what I had so far was that she had fucked the guy once. It was a single intense bout but the reasons were understandable if not completely acceptable.

That was more-or-less on the “pro” side of the ledger.

Now for the “cons”; first and foremost she had NOT brought this to me when I got home.

I realized that she was going through her own personal hell, including visiting a lawyer on the day that I got back and I was willing to give her a pass on that.

But she had spent all of the following day parading invitingly around in a bikini in front of that double-crossing mother-fucker and even thinking about that made my blood boil.

I put that criminal act down on my list of things she would absolutely have to explain.

THEN, she had avoided me for five days rather than talk to the one person who she had pledged to share her life with, and who loved her above everything. All of this was while she was – dating – Murphy.

That betrayal was hard to justify under any circumstances.

Her excuse was that every time she looked at my so-called incriminating pictures they brought on a new wave of fury and she couldn’t stand to be near me. I could almost accept that explanation given the way I was feeling about her right now.

But the fact remained that she had spent the entire period building an intimate relationship with another man. And I was pretty sure that her ever increasing hesitation to talk to me could only be put down to the fact that she was starting to turn away from me and toward that unspeakable son-of-a-bitch.

In fact, as far as I was concerned, her making out with him on their Wednesday date was far worse than her fucking him on Friday, because what she was doing in that front seat was clearly love not sex.

The problem of her emerging feelings for the asshole raised a new set of troubling thoughts about her motivation for fucking him yesterday. I put THAT on the list of something I would have to understand in order to get past the situation.

When I totaled up the “con” side of the ledger I could only conclude that we were not as close to resolving this as I had hoped.

And I was sure that my concern about how she had become so immediately open and receptive to another man would end the marriage unless I was able to understand and accept how that attachment had evolved.

To be honest, in the end it was not the physical act of fucking the guy that I couldn’t get around. I sincerely believed that was the inevitable product of her raw emotions and Murphy’s intricate choreography.

What I simply could not forgive, OR forget, was the degree of personal intimacy that had passed between the two of them in that week.

She had begun to share her special inner self with the guy and I am the only person who has a right to that part of her.

Other men have had her body. You accept a somebody with an extensive track record when you marry a woman that beautiful. But she had never given any other man intimate access to her sparkling soul.

She had clearly given Murphy some level of that access. And I knew that our marriage was at an end if she was not able to satisfactorily explain why that happened.

So I went back to my room to make my own “date” with her for the following Wednesday.

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