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Wives-Dirty Underwear
Dirty Underwear



      How do you know if your wife is cheating on you? Is it a change in her mood? Does she leave the house in the evening? Does she always want to go out with the girls? Or, any number of the other hundreds of things to look for? Mine is just a gut feeling.

I came home from work and she was on the phone. The second I came in she said, "Gotta go, he's home, bye." That's it, which gave me this terrible gut reaction.

I thought about asking her who she was talking to but she could say anybody, even a telemarketer. Thinking like this couldn't just come into my mind, could it? It must have been in my conscious memory somewhere. I didn't want it there. I didn't like it. I am not good with change. I'm a more old fashioned leave it alone till it breaks type guy.

Ann and I (I'm Jon) have been married going on twenty-four years. We have four kids, two grown and two teenagers. We don't have a lot, but what we have is ours. Don't really owe anybody. We have a small house but it's paid for. Our cars aren't the newest but there are no payments. We probably have a few credit card debts and that's about it. We're an average American family and try to live within our means.

We work, eat, do a few things as a family, take care of the house, do the school thing. That's going to everything your kid belongs to: sports, band, scouts and any other thing they're involved in. We sometimes even have dinner together, which is a rarity nowadays.

Our sex life is probably like most people our age, once every two weeks or so. I wish it was a lot more but it takes two to tango. Ann hasn't been much into dancing lately, pun intended.

Because of my stupid gut, I'll now have to be on the lookout for any odd signs from Ann. It's like I don't trust her anymore and for no reason. I'm just hoping my gut feeling is only indigestion.

My problem is that I'm no super sleuth. I don't know much about the video cameras, phone bugging stuff, whatever the hell that is, and I'm not rich enough to hire a private investigator. Especially since I don't have the slightest clue what I'm looking for.

Ann handles all the finances so I have no idea what she pays or when she pays it. If I start going looking through all the bills, she's going to want to know why. What do I tell her? My gut hurts so you've been fucking around on me? Boy, I bet that would go over big.

Our marriage seems normal, what ever that is in this day and age. We met while in our twenties, dated about a year, and then got married. She pops out a kid about every two years. I got tired of the pop outs so I had a vasectomy after the last one.

Well, this was one of those days where we all, the two teenagers, my wife and I, have dinner together. The kids talked a little about school and Ann talked about her part time job at the library. After the last two kids entered high school she was getting bored and got a job at the local library. She was part-time and her hours were irregular.

Maybe that's one of the places I needed to check out. But how do I do that. I can't just take off work and sit in fJont of the damn library to see who she talked to. It would be everybody who walked into the damn place. She's the librarian.

Tonight she was going to her girls' card club so I guess I could start my private investigation after she leaves. I would have to follow her in my old truck. I could hardly afford a rental like they do in the other stories.

I left minutes after she did. I knew where she was going because she told me and left me a number where I could get hold of her if I needed her.

I lost her or rather she lost me in the traffic so I just drove over to Marge's house where the card game was supposed to be. When I got there I saw Ann's car among others in fJont of the house. I waited a few minutes to make sure no one else was coming and then got out of my truck, which I parked a couple of houses down, and walked up to one of the windows and peeked in.

When I looked in, I saw two card tables with four women around each one playing cards. It was another dead end so I slowly backed up to return to my truck and stepped in a pile of dog shit. "Damn-it," I said softly and continued to my truck. I had to clean the shit off my shoes before getting in my truck. Damn! It stunk.

When I got home I went into the clothes hamper and looked for her bras and panties. Good, she hasn't washed clothes this week. As I pulled her panties out of the hamper I felt the crotches and brought them up to my nose. Damn, they stink; I don't care what you say. Panties sitting in a hamper for a few days stink. It's not the same as being horny and going down on your woman. Everything smells good during sex. This was a few days later.

I looked through her closet for anything that looked out of place. Then I carefully looked through all her drawers in the dresser. I found nothing. I located the bills file in the filing cabinet. I went through all the bills in the files. I didn't find anything out of the ordinary. She was good, for a cheating wife she was excellent. I got on the computer and put in her password. She told me what it was; we had it posted next to the computer.

I went through all the e-mails which was kind of stupid because we had a joint account and we both used the same e-mail address. I couldn't find anything. Here I was for the last three hours looking for something and just couldn't find it.

When I read these stories on the computer, they find all sorts of shit. Phone logs, motel bills, soiled panties, hang ups on the telephone. They hire private investigators. They plant phone listening devises. Follow or have their wife followed. They find nude photos, VCR tapes, and even catch strange men in their bed. My Ann must be good, really good.

As I was starting to put everything away, the door opened and in came Ann. I had her dirty underwear in my hand when she saw me.

"Okay, Jon, time to talk. You followed me to Marge's and then I saw you staring in through the side window. The window was open and I heard you say, ‘Oh, shit'. Did you step in some dog crap? That's where they let their dogs do their business."

"Now I come home and you smell my dirty underwear. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you don't trust me. Do you think I'm cheating on you, Jon?"

"I don't know, Ann, I have this gut feeling. I've had it all day." I replied.

"Come over here, Honey, and let's talk."

"Were you reading erotic stories on your lunch hour at work again," she asked.

I nodded, "Yes".

"Were the stories you were reading, ‘Cheating Wives' stories," she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

Then she asked, "Did you think about me while reading these stories?"

"Of course I did," I replied. "Then I came home and you were on the phone, and you said. 'Gotta go' and hung up."

She looked at me and smiled. "I don't know whether to be mad at you or just hug you," she said.

I looked at her and said, "Please don't lie to me, who were you talking to when I came in?"

"Your mother," she replied. "She calls me most everyday as you know."

"Jon, have I ever done anything at anytime for you to be suspicious of me and not trust me."

‘No," I replied. "It was just my gut feeling."

"Honey," Ann spoke, "You're a trip. If I didn't love you so much I'd be mad. You are my man regardless of how weird you are. I love you with all my heart even if I don't say it regularly. Maybe we don't make love often enough, but we can remedy that."

Then she took me by the hand and walked me into the bedroom, locked the door, dimmed the lights and then started undressing me.

I lay on the bed and watched her strip. When she was naked she climbed up on top of me and inserted my hard cock into her pussy. God, it felt good. She rode me like a bJonco horse. I couldn't hold back any longer as I shot a load deep into her pussy. Then I heard her squeal and press down on my cock.

She got off me, smiled and kissed me. "Do you feel better now?" she asked.

"Ann," I replied, "you're the greatest, but what about my gut?"

She smiled and started laughing, then said, "Take two Rolaids honey, you have indigestion."

Then she looked at me and said, "Honey, stop smelling my dirty underwear. That's nasty."





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