Instead of a link or advertisement, it said, ” I know you like these. This is one you’ll never believe!” and had a URL. I was perplexed. Who the hell would send me a message like that? They knew me well enough to know what Web sites I enjoyed, but I had no idea who the address belonged to. I decided to check it out.
A site popped up that advertised great videos of women fucking strippers. There were 3 sample videos. I loaded the first, and it was pretty typical. The second was a little hotter but still hadn’t lived up to the praise. Then I clicked on the third. I waited for 5, maybe 10 seconds and then the video opened. It was about 45 seconds long. At about the 20-second mark, it focused on an attractive man who looked to be university-aged. He was banging some impossibly sexy woman from behind while she was going down on the woman in front of her.
“Son of a bitch!” I said, shocked. The girl getting her pussy eaten was Ebere’s friend, Azizat. She was beautiful with long hair and nice medium-sized tits. I couldn’t see anything else because the woman in front of her was in the way.
“Damn,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure if I should enjoy this or not. Although she was beautiful, I didn’t want to see one of Ebere’s friends naked. That kind of image could lead to bad things. On the other hand, it was impossible to tear my eyes from the screen; the scene was incredibly erotic.
Suddenly the cameraman walked to the side of the threesome, and the bottom fell out of my world. “Ebere!” I cried as I felt like I was going to pass out.
Life is a hateful, vindictive bitch…
I had never dreamed of dealing with so many emotions at once. I was angry, jealous and crushed, along with a hundred other emotions I couldn’t even identify. I had to be sure, so I clicked on the link again. It came up the same as before. When the cameraman moved to the side, there was my wife, plain as day, going down on her friend while being fucked by a guy…in front of 40 or 50 women and on video.
With shaking hands, I whipped out my debit card and bought a 30-day trial. It took a minute to find the full video, but I did. I recognized the room from the sample. I looked on, feeling utterly sick to my stomach as I watched. The camera panned around to many different people getting naked or fucking, but I didn’t see Ebere or Azizat. Finally, I did catch a glimpse of Ebere sitting at a table, shooing away the guy with an embarrassed look on her face.
When she appeared again 5 minutes later, she was laying on the stage, and Azizat had her tongue stuck in my wife’s pussy. Ebere was wearing a skirt, and her panties were still on. Azizat was holding the material to the side with one hand while moving her face up and down, pushing her tongue in and out of my wife’s sensitive lips.
Ebere had her blouse partially unbuttoned and was massaging her breasts as she was obviously closing in on an orgasm. I had learned since our first night together that oral sex was her weakness. I could make her orgasm virtually every time, as long as I was patient and built her up to it.
As Azizat kept working on her, the same guy who I saw fucking her in the sample walked over and casually began hitting Ebere on the lips with his cock. I noticed with some dismay that it was pretty big. It wasn’t porn star big, but it definitely seemed bigger than me.
When she didn’t take him into her mouth right away, in some bizarre denial of reality, I hoped she would get up and walk away. Her hips began bouncing in the throes of an orgasm. Azizat kept working her over as she basked in the sensation.
I saw the stripper say something to her. I couldn’t hear it over the music, but it didn’t matter because it was easy to read his lips. I was utterly shocked to see his mouth, “Come on, Ebere, please.”
Holy Fuck! How the hell did he know her name? a voice screamed in my head.
Seconds later, she turned to the guy and willingly took his cock into her mouth. After a few seconds of sucking on him, he grabbed the back of her head and started face fucking her. The camera stopped jumping around. I guess because that was the hottest action in the room.
Ebere started moving her hips wildly again. I couldn’t believe she was having another orgasm so quickly. This time Azizat stopped and said something to the guy, who got up and moved beside her. She inched aside so he could get between Ebere’s legs.
Azizat took his cock in her hand and rubbed it up and down my wife’s slit. He got the tip in and then waited. She said something to Ebere, who shook her head ‘no.’ Azizat leaned closer and talked insistently, then began French-kissing her and massaging her breasts. Ebere put her legs behind him and pulled him in . . . just like she did with me.
He moved his hips forward, driving himself inside her as she reacted with obvious pleasure. The guy began moving his hips from side to side, trying to find the sensitive areas of her sex. When she arched up off the stage, putting her hands over her face in ecstasy, he pulled out of her and quickly turned her over.
Once Ebere was on her knees, Azizat slid down in front of her and pulled my wife’s face to her exposed pussy. When Ebere hesitated, the guy drove into her harder, causing her head to roll forward as the pleasure seemed to increase. Finally, she lowered her face to Azizat’s crotch obediently.
The guy was now crashing into her very hard, forcing her to grab Azizat’s hips to steady herself. The action continued for another twenty seconds. Then the camera cut away to another couple. I fast-forwarded through the rest, but Ebere wasn’t on the video after that.
When it ended, I checked to make sure there were no other videos of the party and then tried to get myself together. I looked at the file; it was listed by the date 10/23/22. I looked at the calendar on my computer and confirmed that it was the weekend that Ebere went to Port Harcourt. I sat there for at least fifteen minutes staring at the screen. I had never felt so lost in my life.
I heard a car in the driveway and jumped up to look through the window. It was the girls. Watching Ebere step from the car laughing without a care in the world hit me like a punch to the gut. Anger replaced my sadness, and my entire body trembled from the adrenaline.
Quickly I went back to the computer and started the video again. I moved it forward to about where I saw the action and was rewarded with just the right moment. I hit pause and went to the living room.
They walked in laughing. Simisola ran to me and jumped into my arms. I held her tightly, knowing I was about to shatter her world, possibly forever. She sensed something because she immediately asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t look at her face as I firmly told her to go upstairs to her room and close the door. She looked upset but obeyed me.
Ebere was very alarmed. She probably thought there had been a death in the family or something. I didn’t say a word but walked back into the study.
She followed me, demanding, “Will you tell me what the hell is going on?”
When we reached the computer, I grabbed her shoulders with both hands and turned her to face it. I took no pleasure in seeing all the color drain from her face as she saw a perfect still of herself being fucked from behind while going down on Azizat. There was no response from her for several moments. I saw her shoulders move several times before I was able to hear her sob.
Quietly she spoke without turning, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
I tried to keep my rapidly building anger in check. “Was it just the one time?” Already knowing the answer.
She looked at the floor. “No, it happened the night before. Then again at the party.”
“With Azizat and the stripper?”
She nodded, her eyes never leaving her feet.
“What about the next day? Whose bed did you sleep in after the party?” It was only a guess, but I was pretty sure it was a good one. She didn’t answer me. She just cried louder.
“Well, that’s just fucking great. I bring you into my house, tell my daughter to trust you and you turn out to be…this?” I hissed, pointing at the screen. “Was it good? Did you cum better than with me? How did that big dick feel poking up inside you? Was it worth the end of our marriage?”
She cried louder and still hadn’t looked at me. It didn’t matter. My anger was out of control, and I wasn’t in the mood to feel pity.
“This is how it’s going to be, you good for nothing slut. You have five minutes to have your stuff packed and be out of my house. When I get to five minutes and one-second, if you’re not out the door, this video gets sent to your family, then your friends and then your work. Once you leave, you are never to contact me again. Our lawyers can do the talking.”
I could see her flinch as she took each word like it was a punch.
I heard her say between sobs, “What about Simisola?”
That broke the dam. “Don’t you ever say my daughter’s name again, you whore!” I yelled. “When you are gone, I’ll tell her as nicely as possible what a piece of trash you really are. You chose your party friends over us. You are never to contact her again or I’ll have you arrested.”
She finally turned to me with a look of utter pain, “You can’t do that! She’s like my own daughter. I’ve helped raise her.”
I had already thought of that. “Well since we never got around to getting adoption papers drawn up, you have no fucking rights at all. I guess you weren’t thinking about her when you had your tongue stuck up Azizat’s pussy.” I saw her cringe at the reference. I knew I was too loud, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Please don’t do this to me, to us. I’m begging you to give me a chance to explain. It’s been six months and I’ve done everything I could to make it up to you.”
I had finally reached the point where I couldn’t stay that angry and started to calm down a little, which let me regain my control. “So because you lied to me for six months and I didn’t find out until now, I’m supposed to give you a pass? How do I know how often it’s happened? Why would I trust a lying whore in the first place? Even if I did trust you, I don’t give a shit. You fucked them, you made your choice.” Then I began counting out loud, “One, two, three, four…”
“Please, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything for another chance. Please don’t do this.”
“Ten, eleven, twelve…” I started to think she wasn’t taking me seriously, so I sat down at the computer and pulled up my email account. I addressed a new message to both of her parents and sister Nicole, then typed, ‘The truth about your daughter,’ into the message field. Finally, I clicked on it. I didn’t even look over my shoulder as I continued counting, “twenty-two, twenty-three…”
With a frustrated cry, she fled the room and ran upstairs. I waited a minute to stop myself from falling apart and then followed. I stopped at the top of the stairs, just out of sight and listened to her frantic packing. I checked my watch and saw the time to be around three minutes. Then I heard something that made my heart break.
“Ebere, where are you going?” Simisola had come out of her room to see her stepmother packing in a panic while crying loudly.
“I’m sorry baby; I have to go to Aunty’s house for a while. I did something very bad and hurt your daddy. It’s all my fault, not his.”
I thought I had reached the limit of the pain I could feel until I heard Simi say through her tears. “Did you say you’re sorry? If you say you’re sorry he has to forgive you. Please don’t go.”
My anger drained completely as I sank to the floor and cried openly. I forgot all about the watch.
Ebere spoke again, “It’s too late for that. I’m so sorry, sometimes grown-ups do things that are so bad that saying ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough.”
Simi wasn’t giving up, “But I don’t want you to go. Don’t you love me anymore?”
I was actually kind of proud when Ebere dropped her suitcase and stopped crying for a moment, her only concern being for Simisola. “I love you more than anything. I love you this much,” and moved her arms all the way apart. “I have to go now, but you be brave. Maybe someday your daddy can forgive me. But you always remember that this is my fault, not his. He loves you more than anything. I wish I could explain, but I have to go.”
I couldn’t take it anymore, so I stumbled to the bottom of the stairs and called out, “Four forty-one, forty-two, forty-three…”
I heard more rushed talking then the sound of someone coming down the stairs fast. Ebere passed me, then paused and turned. ” I don’t blame you for this. I know I deserve it. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ll love you forever.”
“Four fifty-five, fifty-six…” She turned and lunged for the door. When it closed behind her, I went up the stairs to comfort my little angel. I couldn’t even focus on the pain I was feeling. I knew what I had done had ripped the heart right out of my little girl. My anger at Ebere gave me no cure for my self-recrimination. I ran up the stairs to try and fix the unfixable.
Life has spiralled beyond repair…
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