The day I found out my wife was cheating, I wasn’t prepared.  I had not been suspecting for weeks, the sex wasn’t stale (at least not to me) we weren’t going through a rough patch, nothing of the sort.  That very morning she had come out of the shower and pressed her naked body against me.  I had to change my suit, shirt and tie afterwards and I was late for a meeting with my publisher but it was totally worth it.  That’s why when I walked into my home that afternoon, 3 hours earlier than normal, hoping to continue from where we left off in the morning, I didn’t expect to see my wife fucking someone else in the pool.  My pool.

My first instinct was to pick a knife off the kitchen cabinet. I almost did.  If I had, I would have killed one or both of them I wasn’t sure who I wanted to kill more.  The one I loved who had broken my trust or the object of her adulterous desires.  Then I saw his face, and the hand reaching to pull out a knife stopped in its tracks.

It wasn’t my brother or boss or best friend.  It was hers.  Her best friend, the guy who had always been there.  They were friends before I met her.  Friends while we dated.  Friends when we got married and she asked me to make him one of my groomsmen.  Friends till now.  At first I was uncomfortable with how close they were.  She told me he was like a brother to her.  Then he got a girlfriend, a hot one, who he eventually married and I never saw him in that light again.  Till now of course, in the harsh light of reality.

He had always been around it could have been going on for years.  If it had, that would make me a fool.  I was hurt, betrayed, angry, but I was not a fool.  Killing one or both of them right now in a fit of rage would be illogical, foolish.  They were still at it in the pool oblivious to me for the half hour I stood in my own kitchen watching my wife betray me.  Then I left.

At first, I was unsure what to do.  I’m not a gangster or military man, nor did I know any, so getting him killed or beaten to within an inch of his life was out of the question.  I am an author.  A rather successful one.  My last book sold around 3 million copies each in 6 continents, that is how I was able to afford the nice home in London with a pool and tennis court on the grounds that my stay at home by choice wife had converted to a love nest.

I’m not physically intimidating either.  I couldn’t beat him up myself.  The only tool I had, the only weapon I had was my mind.  I drove back to the office.  I knew the gateman would report that I had been home.  She called just as I walked into my office.  She sounded nervous.  I told her that I forgot my USB drive on the mantelpiece and I had picked it up, used the guest bathroom and returned to the office.  That I had called out her name but she didn’t respond so I figured she was sleeping and since I wasn’t staying long I decided not to disturb.  She believed me.  She had to.

I sat in my office with the lights off.  The emptiness scared me tonight.  I had rented the office space in the city center to handle the business side of the literary world and to have a zone.  A place away from home where I could come up with ideas.  I needed an idea badly that night. I got a few.  I went home that night, kissed my wife, made love to her and slept like a baby.  She was surprised by how energetic the lovemaking was, I told her I had come up with a plot for my new book.  I never showed my work till I was done so she didn’t press me. 

@Copyright All Reserved

www.ftsnewsentertainment..com/2015/11/my-cheating-wife-part-1-18.html

Seems like it's gonna be interesting.taking the front seat Already

Lwkmd!! So you believed in that best friend poo?(even after marriage) Your case is "had I known".


One more thing, just so you know.... women don't need a reason to cheat

I want to hear dis story to d end , shebi I be amebo!!!

You went home the same night kissed her and made love to her? You must be oyibo oh right? Pls tell me you're a white man cux if na African man! Aragagba Ndi Ara

"Part 2"

The next day I went to see my best friend and lawyer.  I asked him about divorces and how they affected finances and assets.  He walked me through matrimonial actions.  Essentially, if I divorced her, my wife would get as much as half to keep her in the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed while married to me.  Utter bollocks.  He asked if everything was ok, I told him it was research for a new book.  The protagonist was in a messy divorce and needed to figure out a legal way to leave his wife with nothing.  He was intrigued.

He called me the next day.  He’d found a way.  It was complicated but it could work.  The rules only apply to property or funds acquired during marriage.  If the protagonist found a way to transfer it all to some trusted third party before the proceedings begun then there would be nothing for the Court to give her.  He could always get it back afterwards.  I mulled it around in my head for almost a month.  I called him and told him what I came up with.  He said I was a bloody genius then made a few changes so it would be perfectly legal.  I asked him to draft a sample for me and charge me for the work.  He didn’t want to till I pointed out that the book might make millions.  What are friends for?

By now, our circle of friends was abuzz with the news that a new novel was in the works.  Our circle of friends which included my wife’s lover and his wife who fortunately for me was a die-hard fan.  Whenever we were at an event together, she would ask how the book was coming along, at first I would hedge and refuse to divulge any information then I began to feed her tidbits.  Enough to make her look forward to our next meeting.

Six months after I caught my wife shagging her best friend, I bought my wife the new iPhone.  It was customary.  A new phone here, a new car there, diamonds and pearls every other month.  This was different.  I had installed Google Latitude on the device and connected it to mine before handing it to her.  I now knew everywhere the phone went and she was like a teenager with her phone, she never put it down.

For the next few months, I watched my wife diligently, electronically.  Every Wednesday, she spent the afternoon at her lover’s house.  Convenient.  He ran a small web design firm out of his home.  His wife was the money in the family.  Some of the time, late on Fridays, she’d drive into odd addresses on the outskirts of London, Liverpool and Stoke city predominantly.   I had them checked out, Hotels.

The first time I left for the weekend, she stayed home.  I told her my story was based in Scotland and I needed to be in the metropolis for inspiration. She tried to talk me out of it but drove me to the airport.  I waited 15mins after passing airport security then got a Taxi to take me to one of the hotels in the city.  Her phone was in the house all weekend but he could have come over for all I knew.   The business class flight ticket had cost me $150 the first of many.

I started to ‘visit Manchester city’ every other week.  Sometimes I would actually go for a day and take enough pictures for 2 or 3 and return to London.  It wasn’t till the 7th weekend that I made my move.  I called her on Sunday morning.  I didn’t let her talk, she didn’t try.  I told her I was in a cab on my way home, I was sure she was in church so I didn’t ask her to come pick me. I had missed her loads.  I was 2 houses away.  His black Honda Accord sped past in less than 5 minutes.  …

www.ftsnewsentertainment..com/2015/11/my-cheating-wife-part-2-18.html

Interesting

Ok

Why is the link there? Thot the continuation is on the link

melodyheart come continue nah

My Cheating Wife “Part 3” (+18)

The next weekend, after dropping me off, she drove home first and then to one of the hotels/motels in outskirt of London.  She was there all weekend.  I called the lover’s home.  His wife picked.  I asked her about safety precautions on oil rigs.  She got excited and pressed me for details.  I told her there was an explosion somewhere towards the end.  Temporarily sated, she explained a few things to me.  Just before I dropped I sent the lover my regards, she mentioned that he had to travel for business.  I just smiled.

Every time I ‘went to Scotland’ after that, she went to East London.  Sometimes, she went straight from the airport.  I let it continue uninterrupted, occasionally making early returns so they never got comfortable with using the house for their weekend trysts.  Sometimes I would go to their hotel and get the room next to theirs.  They always got the same room.  They were loud, always.  She would scream obscenities and he would grunt like a beast.  I would sit in my room with the lights off, listening to them and periodically send her pictures of scotland.

Then 6 months ago, I told her I wanted us to move to Ireland for a year.  She was completely against it but I explained that the second part of the book was set in Ireland and flying back and forth to Ireland was tedious enough.  There was nothing tying us to London, nothing she could mention.

I asked her not to worry.  I would take care of everything.  For the next month, I stayed home every day, and didn’t go to Scotland.  I could sense her desperation.  I let it grow as the date we set for our relocation drew closer.  She sighed audibly when I told her I would be going to Lagos one last time, to return the morning of our trip.  We had sold the cars already so I took a taxi straight to Sheraton.

She was in Manchester city in under an hour after I left.  I made a few phone calls, confirmed the flight booking, cab booking and room booking and faxed over the final documents and awaited the signed copies.  Then I called the lover’s wife.  I told her I was in a bit of a rut on that explosion and I needed her expertise.  I offered to let her read my drafts so she could get a feel of the plot.  She offered to come over to the house.  I told her I was in Scotland.  She was sad, so sad.  I told her it was all handwritten so I couldn’t mail it.  She apologized for not being able to help, I told her I appreciated her willingness.

The next morning I called her again.  I was coming back to London so she could read my manuscript.  I really needed her help.  She was flattered.  I told her I wasn’t going home just yet, I can’t work at home.  I was going to check into a small hotel on the outskirts of town, I asked her to hand the phone to her husband so I could explain.  He had travelled on business, of course.  I asked her to come anyway.  I would get her an adjoining room but since her husband wasn’t home, he didn’t need to know, he would tell my wife and she’d be hurt that I came to london and didn’t sleep at home.  But I had to work, I needed to get past this explosion.  She understood.

She wanted to drive over but I was already in a cab.  I picked her up.  We checked into our rooms.  They were separated only by thin walls, all three rooms.  She had the one in the middle.  We stepped in her room and I handed her the handwritten manuscript of my unpublished first novel.  I wrote it when I was 17 and it showed.  Every chapter had a sex scene.  She was barely through with the first chapter when the lovers started.  They were loud and she blushed.  I pretended not to notice.

Between the obscene manuscript and what sounded like honeymooners next door she got aroused in a few minutes.  She paused periodically to ask questions and make recommendations.  Sometimes just to lick her lips.  I lay on the bed, waiting for her to get to my little alteration, the noise of lovemaking next door had subsided.

I knew when she found it.  She started breathing hard, she licked her lips a few times.  I half expected her to put the manuscript down out of embarrassment but she kept on reading.  When I leaned down to whisper in her ear, the words ‘kiss me’ weren’t out of my mouth before she had me pinned to the bed.  I put in everything I had, every trick I knew but she wasn’t a squealer.  She purred. …

http://www.ftsnewsentertainment..co.ke/2015/12/my-cheating-wife-part-3-18.html

Homie,better not stop this one too

™Nna mehn, akuko nke a na eke amu buh its ain't nothing on me khoz am way off beta dan written fictional stories... °nice one shaaa... jisieike na eke young niggurs amu

My Cheating Wife. "Part 4"

I had her skirt hiked up around her waist, her panties, bra and shirt flung to the far corners of the room, as the head slipped past her lower lips she clutched me. Hard. Harder even than when she had climaxed earlier. I pulled back a bit and repeated the partial entry.  Her face was contorted.  She said her first words; ‘Bleep Me’ I didn’t.  I could hear telltale sounds of fresh lovemaking from the next room.  I buried my lips next to her ear.

‘What did you say?’ She repeated herself.  I slid an inch forward. Then out again.  Who? I asked.  Who? When she said my name it sounded better than I could have ever hoped. I slid all the way in and said ‘Louder’.  With each thrust her voice rose and every time I pulled back, I repeated myself.  It had become a battle of sounds now, they had gotten louder, and I knew they had heard us, I was satisfied.  As she came, she gave an extra treat, she screamed my name and surname this time, at the top of her lungs.

Instantly, the lovemaking in the next room ceased, I smiled as she fell asleep with her head on my chest.   My wife called.  I told her how lonely it was in Lagos and sent a picture of myself in an empty hotel room. There were no sounds from the other room all night.

In the morning, the lover’s wife was distraught.  He didn’t deserve her.  I had us packed and ready to go then I sent my wife a message, I had just landed and I was in a taxi on the way home and that I hoped she had packed, the flight for Ireland was scheduled to leave at noon. I listened hard.  When their door opened, I opened ours and stepped out.  He saw me first, and then his wife.  I could see all three of them go through the emotions.  Self-righteous rage, confusion and then slowly, understanding.

He knew now that it was his wife who had screamed my name and that we had heard them as well.  She knew now that I had lied to her and slept with her best friend’s wife and that I had caught her cheating.  The lover’s wife only knew that she had been unfaithful and that her husband had been as well.  His business trips suddenly made sense.

The one thing none of them knew was that I was not as shocked or outraged as they were.  I smiled and pulled the envelope with the divorce papers out of my bag.  I handed them to her and walked out.  When her lawyer tried to apply for settlement, I told the Court I had nothing.   I had donated all our property to a Ireland charity.  All bank accounts had been cleared out leaving barely enough to survive for 2 weeks.  There was nothing to be done, the property wasn’t mine anymore.

When the divorce became final, I raised some money from my friends and found the next flight to Ireland.  She was broke and so was her lover.  His wife had kicked him out.  They could have been broke together but even that was not on the cards.  It turned out he preferred his wife, mine was just a good lay.  She wouldn’t have him back but he dumped my wife to show her he had changed.

When I arrived at the office of the charity I had set up for this purpose, I presented the second document to its manager.  He signed.

I was free and with all of my wealth, minus a cheating wife and 10% of the net worth which went to the Charity.   My lawyer had said they could only touch property acquired during our marriage, I sold it all.  He said funds in my name would be subject, I gave it all away.  When I got it back the marriage had been dissolved, she was not entitled.  It was perfectly legal.

I know what you are thinking.  I lied to my wife, I stalked her, I involved another innocent woman, led her on for months.  Well, not exactly, I did write the book.  I documented the discovery, the stalking, the plan and its execution.  It hit the shelves a week ago in all my distribution zones and was an instant bestseller in all of them.

I didn’t stab my wife and her lover when I saw them in my pool, that would have been foolish.  I waited over a year but I ruined their lives.  I bought myself a new home in Liverpool, a few cars as well, the success of the new book covered my tracks.

My new home is large and luxurious, I had the pool cemented over the day I moved in, on rough nights I walk out onto my balcony and look at the solid grey slab that used to be filled with clear blue water and then I go back to bed and sleep like a baby.

http://ftsnewsentertainment..co.ke/2015/12/my-cheating-wife-part-4-18.html?m=1

u such a good writer! about your wife, who cares!!!?

Wow,just Wow.You are good.