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Cuckolded By My Best Friend
Cuckolded By My Best Friend
Cuckolded By My Best Friend
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Cuckolded By My Best Friend

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A man suspects that his wife may be cheating on him. She is working late a lot more nights than is usual. She is wearing shorter skirts and sheerer blouses. She has begun to wear higher heels than she has in years. But, despite his best efforts, he is unable to catch her in the act. And he does not suspect who she is cheating with.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWanda Peters
Release dateJun 21, 2020
ISBN9780463849217
Cuckolded By My Best Friend
Author

Wanda Peters

I write erotic books, mostly about cuckolding. If you are looking for that type of book, you might ask yourself what exactly do you want in an erotic book. I think that if you can read one of my books and keep both hands on the book then I have not done my job. I don't believe that anyone that buys or reads one of my books or stories are looking for great literature.I don't try to compete with Shakespear when I write. What I do try to do is to put together a compelling story that someone will want to continue to read. A word of caution my books are not for the faint of heart. Many of my characters do not have a happy ending. A few of my books do have some satirical humor but for the most part, they are about males that are dominated and humiliated by their wives or lovers.I hope you enjoy my work.

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    Book preview

    Cuckolded By My Best Friend - Wanda Peters

    Title Page

    Cuckolded By My Best Friend

    Wanda Peters

    Copyright 2015

    Smashwords Edition

    Disclaimer: This book is in its entirety a work of fiction. And resemblance to any person living or dead is a mere coincidence. It does contain scenes of a sexual nature and some adult language. If these things are objectionable to you, please do not read this book.

    Cuckolded by My Best Friend

    Chapter One - Suspicions

    I am not sure exactly when I knew that Marie was cheating on me. I know that it has been months if not years. It is always the little things that give them away. I guess my first clue was when she started showing up once or twice a week an hour late from work. She told me that it was required overtime and of course, I had no reason to doubt that, but since her paycheck was direct deposited into our joint account and the amount never varied substantially, I began to suspect that she was doing something else with those couple hours per week.

    The next clue was her dress. Usually, when she would leave for work, she would be dressed business casual. For some time, she had been wearing pants suits instead of dresses or skirts. And her footwear was blasé if not dull. I had always loved seeing her in heels and a short skirt because she had the longest sexiest legs in the world and heels just made them look even better.

    Then shortly after her coming home late started her dress changed as well. The pantsuits went back into the closet and out came the skirts. And even that didn’t set off any alarm bells since the skirts she chose were below the knee and cut so that they did not show off any more curves than was necessary. The blouses that she decided to wear changed just a little bit as well. Now they were made out of satin instead of cotton. And if I looked carefully, I could just make out the outline of her bra that she was wearing under them.

    And then one day I noticed she was wearing heels again to work. Oh, not fuck me pumps to be sure but not the two-inch-square heeled things she had been wearing either.

    And then the girl’s night outs began. The first time she informed me that she was going to go out with the girls, I thought that she looked away too quickly. It bothered me that she did not hold my eye contact but instead looked down at the floor.

    That first night I waited up for her to come home. I watched a little television and had a couple of stiff drinks. I kept checking the clock, and with each passing hour, I became just a little more agitated. Again I did not suspect that she was doing anything wrong, it was just that if either of us were going to be out this late, it was standard procedure for us to call the other and let them know what was going on. I remember checking the clock when I heard her car in the drive, and it was 2:40 A.M.

    She came into the living room where I was sitting up in my big comfortable chair. I didn’t expect you to wait up for me. I detected just a slight slurring of her words so I knew that she had a few more drinks than she should have and then drove home.

    I thought some of reprimanding her for that, but I didn’t want to start something that late at night. And so I just asked her if she had a good time and all she did was give me a little smile and again looked away from my eyes.

    I followed her up to our bedroom and watched as she went straight into the bathroom. She was in there for quite a while, and when she came out, she had changed into a long nightdress that covered her from her neck to the tops of her feet. I guess you could call it a granny dress. While she usually did not wear anything sexy to bed that was a definite step down from her norm.

    She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin and rolled over on her side away from me. I didn’t think too much about that because of the lateness of the hour and the alcohol that she had consumed.

    I awoke before her, and since it was Saturday, I did not bother to wake her. I simply went down to the kitchen and fixed the coffee pot and waited for it to finish dripping so that I could pour myself a cup. I guess it was maybe two hours later when I heard Marie moving around upstairs. By that time, I had cleaned up the kitchen and poured her a cup of coffee adding the creamer that she liked. When she came into the kitchen, she was humming some old tune. It was something from a bygone era, but I just could not put my finger on what it was called. But the one thing I was sure of was that Marie was in a better mood than I had seen her in some time.

    I slid the mug of coffee in front of her as she sat down at the table. So you never did tell me what you girls were up to last night.

    Oh, nothing special, we just went out to a club and had a few drinks. I am sorry about that; I know that I shouldn’t drink and drive. From now on one of us will be the designated driver.

    She had expertly cut off any accusation that I might make and I wondered if that was why she had come out with her apology before I could raise a question.

    I walked over to where she was sitting and gave her a little peck on the cheek. I am glad you had a good time, but I worry about you when you are out so late.

    I know you do sweetness, and I will try and remember to give you a call if I am going to be so late again.

    I left her there with her coffee and made my way upstairs to take a shower. I heard the washer running which surprised me since she had just done the laundry when she came home from work on Thursday night. Surely there could not have been anything that had built up to the degree that it would need doing in just a day and a half since then.

    Nothing much happened for the rest of the day. I had picked up a couple of steaks at the market, and so I threw them on the grill while I washed and wrapped a couple of potatoes to be put in the microwave. Marie fixed a garden salad, and shortly we were enjoying an excellent meal together. She helped me clear away the dishes, and we went into the living room to

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