The Diary

This story obviously was inspired by Bread's "Diary."

I smiled and winced as I walked into my kitchen to get a beer after mowing my yard on a beautiful spring day.

My older daughter, Jenny, and her two best friends were squealing and chattering like magpies as they were at the kitchen table doing their nails prior to some important dance that was taking place at the local high school later that night. I winced because when teenaged girls get to squealing, the sound could practically shatter glass.

"Mom! Could you come in here for a bit, please? We need your expertise," Jenny called out to my wife, Traci, who was somewhere else in the house.

I didn't offer to help out with whatever the girls wanted or needed. A man has to know his limits, and teenage girl fashion was well beyond mine. I grabbed my beer and headed up the stairs to grab a quick shower before dinner.

Traci waited for me to ascend the stairs before she headed down. We smiled at each other at the top of the stairs before she headed down.

Traci had apparently been on her laptop in our master bedroom, because it was open in the middle of the bed. I closed the door, stripped and was about to head into our en suite to shower when idle curiosity got the better of me and I tapped the computer's keyboard to wake it up so I could see what my wife was working on hidden away in our bedroom.

What I saw on the screen absolutely stunned me! I had no idea my wife had a journal, and it looked like she was in the middle of a "written soliloquy" about me, calling me the love of her life among other great things. I am surprised both my head and my heart didn't explode with love and pride from the words written on the screen. I felt tears come to my eyes, and decided I needed to stop reading and get into the shower before I completely broke down from my emotions.

Traci and I had been married for 19 years, and while I knew our connection was strong, I thought she had been pulling away from me a bit the last year or so, so seeing her heartfelt words on the screen was an amazing, welcome surprise. I had to admit I was overwhelmed that she was able to hide her feelings so well.

Her computer was again asleep when I got out of the shower, and I was about to wake it up again to read some more when I heard Traci coming back up the stairs, so I let it be and got dressed.

I decided that if my wife wanted to be coy, I wouldn't push her to make any declarations, but that night in bed I made my own declaration, eating her to several spectacular orgasms and getting a final climax with my hard dick.

Like we had done many times before, we fell asleep entwined. I told her I loved her right before I drifted off. I didn't think anything of the fact that all I got back was a grunt.

I couldn't get Traci's declaration of love off my mind and I know I smiled a lot the next week. I'll admit I went back and forth with myself about going back to her journal and seeing what else she had written about me. She had never told me that she did a journal, and I knew that reading would be invading her privacy, but...

I argued with myself for five days before I went back to her journal... and ended my life as I knew it.

"He was right. I never thought I'd like anal sex, but the more we do it, the more enjoyment I get out of it."

If I read that line once, I read it a dozen times, each time coming to the edge of throwing up.

The entry that I saw the last Saturday was her last entry, so I started reading backwards. Two back from her last, I found that gem. Significance: Traci had never... never... let me have her ass.

When the fog lifted, the meaning of what I saw on Saturday was crystal clear: her declaration of love was for another.

Fuck.

I don't know how long I sat and stared at nothing. I assumed I was still breathing, because I didn't keel over. I just didn't feel anything, didn't see anything, didn't hear anything.

Fuck.

My wife, the woman to whom I've dedicated 19 years, the woman I would give my life for... loved another.

Fuck.

I was jolted back to reality by a cacophony of emotions: searing pain, rage, helplessness, hopelessness, so much more. I thought of committing murder, two murders actually; the thought of my two children being alone took that out of play. Revenge... nasty, physical, painful revenge... how could I get that done and not go to jail for the rest of my life?

Fuck.

I was brought back to earth just then by my younger daughter calling up the stairs to tell me dinner would be on the table in five minutes. I quickly realized that I'd have to practically give an Academy Award-winning acting performance to make it through the meal.

I honestly tried to be engaged during dinner, but I caught myself several times sitting back and watching my wife. I guess I was stupidly watching to see if she was going to do anything to tip her hand. I smiled to myself when I realized what I was doing. Hell, I never noticed a thing before I found out she was cheating; why would she get sloppy now?

"Earth to Dad. Earth to Dad. Come in, Dad," my youngest said at one point, bringing me back to the present.

"Sorry, kid. Got a lot on my mind," I said apologetically.

"You've been staring at Mom for the last several minutes. It would be way too much information for you to tell us what's on your mind, I think," she responded, getting a giggle from her sister and a blush from my wife.

Yeah, that probably would have been the case prior to about a year ago. Traci and I had what I considered a vigorous sex life and we were never shy about showing our affection for each other in front of the girls, within the bounds of decency, of course. For about the last year, though, Traci seemed a little less interested in being affectionate with me, both inside and outside of the bedroom. I'd mentioned that a few times, which usually resulted in a quick apology and a short return to our previous status, but within a day or two we'd be right back to this new normal.

I had given this some thought occasionally, being perhaps a bit too introspective--paranoid, my wife called it--but about the only thing I could figure was that she was a bit fatigued and maybe a little stressed at work. She worked for a fairly big marketing firm and handled several high-end clients.

That was in addition to being a wife and the mother of two active teenage girls, 16 and 14 years old.

Still, her life was probably no more stressful than mine, but I understood that everybody handles things differently, and I assumed I was just better at handling stress.

For about the last year, I had become the primary parent following the kids' extracurricular activities. Traci had started to beg off due to her workload, but now, knowing what I just found out, I realize that was just a barrel of bullshit... as probably were her late nights due to work and her occasional girls' nights out.

Due to work and life commitments, it took me two days to read what I found out was Traci's shared journal from start to finish, and I was pretty sure I had an ulcer by the time I finished. At least I wouldn't need to hire a private investigator. My wife was fastidious in her accounting of what I now knew was a nine-month sexual affair, 12 months if you wanted to count from when it started emotionally.

Garrett McFarland was the vice president of marketing for Brice-Masterson Industries, a sizable petroleum products company that was a client of my wife's firm, Astrex Upward Marketing. In Traci's own words, he was a "tall, handsome, well-built stud" who filled out his custom-made expensive suits very well. She found him "charming and dashing" in equal measure, and my 43-year-old wife was thrilled when the 32-year-old started paying her increasing attention.

Traci apparently started the journal soon after McFarland starting flirting with her. She said she needed a way to share "this exciting time in her life" with her closest friends, without messing with text or e-mail chains. That made me wonder how many other people knew about her affair and knew that I was a cuckold. Obviously, these were all very close friends of hers, because nobody leaked a syllable to me about what was happening.

The relationship was in the lunches together stage when Traci started her journal. She sounded like a vacuous teen rather than the mother of two teens herself when she talked about her growing infatuation with McFarland. She noted how wet she got the first time McFarland took her hand in his.

Shocked wouldn't even get close to how I felt as I read the journal. I've never talked to my closest friends about my sex life the way Traci talked about hers to her besties. Was this a normal thing for women? If Traci ever found out that I talked about our sex life the way she was talking, she would hit me upside my head with a baseball bat.

Traci was fully aware where her relationship with McFarland was heading... and was fully committed to making that happen. I had never realized that my wife was so selfish.

"I deserve this. I've been a good wife and mother for a lot of years. This is something for me," she wrote.

What the fuck? I've been a good father. Don't I deserve to have an affair, too?

The lunches got longer, sometimes necessitating Traci to make up the time by working late, but soon after the lunches turned into dinners... and more. I came really close to hurling my guts up reading about how great her first sexual encounter was with McFucker: how talented he was using his big dick, the series of humongous orgasms, how she sucked him back to full hardness for a second go-round.

None of what she wrote about was new or different... except for her sucking him back to hardness. She would never consider putting my dick in her mouth after it had been inside her pussy.

In addition to being angry over her fucking him, I was angry over her how she made it seem like he was such a great partner. Traci is multi-orgasmic, and when we were playing, I would consider it a failure if she didn't have a series of big climaxes. How quickly I was disparaged... in addition to being disrespected.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

According to Traci, the pair fucked almost every week after that first time. The only thing of note for me was when Traci let him have her ass, something she had denied to me for the whole time we were a couple.

"I probably shouldn't have let Garrett do that because I never let Will have my ass, but it was so damn hot and it seemed to be the right time. It wasn't as bad as I thought and... once we got going I kind of felt like a nasty girl. I felt like I was really hot... and Garrett really loved it.

"Still, I know I'd never be able to give that to Will... because that would get him thinking."

Traci's feeling for McFarland continued to grow the longer the affair went on, she noted. Her infatuation gradually turned into love... then into a deep, passionate love. I was stunned when I read that she planned to file for divorce as soon as Jenny left for college in two years.

"Emma will be a junior in high school and leaving two years after that. She'll be old enough to understand that while I love her father, I'm in love with Garrett, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him," she wrote.

Despite the fact that I wanted to kill someone... two someones, actually... I really had to hand it to Traci. She still appeared to be a great mom, with the exception of not showing up at the extracurriculars as much, and she certainly had me completely fooled as to how good of a wife she was, with the exception of our sex life falling off somewhat.

No matter how I looked at it, I could see only three options for my predicament, only two of which I would actually consider. I immediately discarded the option to do nothing and continue to share my wife--at least for two more years--only now doing it knowingly. Fuck that noise.

My second option was to divorce her quietly: give her what she seemingly wanted and quickly get shed of the slut. I looked at this hard because it would keep my embarrassment to a minimum and hopefully get me out of the marriage quickly.

But... that option was missing the component that made option three so appealing: revenge... raw, mean revenge. Everybody thinks I'm this nice, quiet guy, but hey, I'm human. Traci burned me badly, cheated on me, lied to me, deceived me. Hell, yes, I wanted my pound of flesh. The only question in my mind was how much shit could I give to her and her lover?

I thought about it for a few days before I came to the conclusion that I did need the services of a private investigator. I needed proof for what I had planned, because let's face it, nothing says cheating better than the old in-out right in front of your audience's collective face.

The divorce attorney I chose had an investigative firm on speed dial, and at the rate the two lovers were fucking it didn't take long before I had several "informative" videos and a bunch of photos at my disposal. I had to admit, reading about your wife cheating on you isn't near as bad as actually seeing it in a video.

The videos weren't all about fucking. They made love as often as they fucked, with lots of tender kissing and caressing. That was a lot harder to take than when they just rutted like animals and had noisy orgasms. Watching the fucking made me angry. Watching the lovemaking hurt my heart.

Fuck.

What I did next was pure spite. She had broken my heart, so I was going to go for the proverbial kick to the nuts. I bought a burner phone and sent a text to her mother that included a video file of her daughter getting schtupped in the ass by Garrett while he also played with her clit, the actions resulting in a noisy, sloppy orgasm.

I'll admit I always had a good relationship with my in-laws, so I did feel a little bad about sending the video anonymously, but I felt they needed to endure some of the pain and humiliation I had been feeling. After I sent the text, I knew they wouldn't be among those asking me to reconsider my coming divorce filing against Traci.

I waited about 30 minutes before I sent the same file from the burner to almost the entire contact list on her phone, which I had copied one recent night while she slept. I wondered how many of those on her contact list also had the address of her journal.

I smiled inside as she barely acknowledged me when I walked in the door. She was in the kitchen preparing dinner as usual, but what was unusual was the constant pinging coming from her phone, indicating several text messages coming in one after the other. I heard her phone ring as I hit the stairs to go upstairs to change my clothes, but I couldn't hear what she said to the caller as I walked upstairs. I had a good guess, though, and I think I spent most of the evening trying to hide my smile.

"Hey, what's going on? Did you win the lottery or something and forget to tell me about it?" I asked, trying to sound like I was joking.

"Umm... something like that," Traci answered tersely.

Her phone buzzed the entire evening. Her fingers had to be exhausted at the end of the night.

Vengeance is great for a good night's sleep. I slept great for the first time since this mess started. I could tell from Traci's face, though, that she didn't sleep nearly as well as I did.

I decided my texting adventure was so much fun I would do it again, this time sending out a file showing Traci happily bouncing up and down on Garrett's dick like she was on a trampoline while her lover mauled her bouncing boobs. She grunted heavily each time she hit bottom before squealing out another noisy orgasm, the camera zooming in closely on her face while she came.

I could hear her phone's text alerts going off all evening while she sat in the living room pretending she was reading a book. I also heard her talking in a whisper from time to time. It wasn't very hard for me to keep pretending I was the clueless husband.

I only texted one person the next day, but it was the coup de grace. Sarah Franks was probably Traci's kryptonite. They were both pretty women with good bodies for 40-somethings, and it was almost like a contest to see who could get the most admiring looks when they both showed up to an event in our neighborhood. I knew Sarah wouldn't keep the Traci assfuck file to herself. Yes, it would be outing myself as an unknowing cuck to a hell of a lot of people, but why should Traci's besties be the only ones to know? I have broad shoulders.

Of course, putting the file into the public meant I could no longer pretend I didn't know what was going on. That was okay. It was time to wrap up this charade and move on with my life.

She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cliché glass of wine when I walked in after work, tears in her eyes. No, I wasn't going to let her play the victim. I gave her a disgusted look, walked to the fridge, pulled out a beer and sat down.

"I-I don't know what to say, Will," she said quietly. "Obviously I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I never meant for you to be ridiculed."

"Yes, you did, Traci. I've read your journal. I don't know how many of your friends know about that, but I know you didn't just start writing it to work on your grammar," I snarled. "At least this way, everybody else also gets to know you're a cheating slut, too."

"Oh shit," she rasped, probably not meaning to say that aloud.

"Y-y-you've read my journal? Who told you about that?" she inquired.

I never answered her question.

"That's your big worry right now, Traci?" I responded. "You've been cheating on your husband for close to a year. You've told your friends that you're in love with another man and plan on marrying him pretty soon. Oh, and half the town knows you're a cheating slut.

"Me reading your journal--all of it--just means that you don't have to try to lie to me about the sex and your feelings for him."

Her mouth twisted into a grimace. She looked like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"I'm assuming the girls know by now... and they're just hiding in their rooms," I said. "We should get them down here for a family meeting, because we've got a lot to talk about with the divorce and the upcoming move."

"What upcoming move?" she questioned, her face showing her surprise. "Why would we move?"

"You can't be that dense... and selfish, woman. The girls are going to have a hard time showing their face in school for the next month until the end of the school year, but they're not going to want to take that shit for the next several years until they leave home... because of what you've done. I know teenage boys, having been one a long time ago, and a lot of guys are going to wonder if our daughters take after their mother. Those videos aren't going to help either.

"The girls and I are going to have to go someplace where we can start over with a blank slate."

"Wait. Wait. Wait. You're not getting the girls. The mother always gets the kids," Traci hissed.

"You obviously don't live in the real world anymore, Traci," I answered. "The girls are old enough to choose who they want to live with... and I know they're going to want to get the hell out of Dodge as quickly as possible."

Her jaw dropping on the table told me Traci hadn't considered any of what I just related.

"Besides, you're not really going to want them around for a while when you marry your new soul mate, Mr. Fucking Wonderful. Wherever you wind up, you're going to need to put in more soundproofing in your bedroom, if those videos are any indication."

We both sat quietly for a minute before I saw the light bulb go off over her head.

"Did you know about my journal before the videos? Did you have something to do with those videos?" she asked pointedly.

"I only found out about your journal very recently. I had nothing to do with the videos," I lied blatantly, not feeling one bit of guilt.

I figured if she could lie to me and deceive me for almost a year, I could return the favor: no guilt allowed.

"So can I assume those videos have been out there for a couple of days already? You've been on your phone almost constantly for the last two nights."

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Whoever sent those out included my parents in their distribution list. My mom about ripped my ears off when she got hers. You don't even want to know what my dad said."

I smiled brightly, maintaining my cover while also enjoying the moment again in my head.

"Kind of amazing your dad didn't have a heart attack when he saw those videos. You would have felt really bad if he had keeled over from seeing you be a slut," I remarked.

I heard the growl come from her throat, but there really was no good way for her to respond to that.

"So... do you have any questions for me, Will? I guess I owe you some answers," she said.

"Actually, I think your journal has explained it all to me. A helluva good road map for your... cheating adventures. Otherwise, I'd probably have a million questions.

"Wait... I do have one big question that you didn't address in your missive. How come you didn't show me enough respect to ask me for a divorce before you started cheating?"

She dropped her eyes to the table and was quiet for several long seconds.

"I'm really, really sorry, Will. Hindsight being 20-20, that's what I should have done," she rasped.

"And maybe not have been quite so receptive to his charm, after all. You are married... Well, at least for a bit longer."

Traci was served divorce papers at her office the next morning. I wasn't expecting the cliché call and cry, and I didn't get it.

I did get a call from Traci's parents that night. I know they had to be incredibly embarrassed by the videos, even more so than their daughter being a slut. They were good church-going people, and we always got along great. I did feel remorse for sending them the videos, but I felt they had to know the truth, and I was pretty sure Traci wouldn't have told them.

They both apologized to me and told me that as far as they were concerned, I would always be their son-in-law. All three of us cried. Their daughter's selfish behavior affected a lot more than just her.

"That was your parents, by the way, apologizing for your bad behavior," I told Traci that night after I got off the phone.

Since I had read her journal, Traci knew she had no choice but to accept the divorce, which I filed under adultery even though we lived in a no-fault state. Before the next school year and before the divorce was even final, the girls and I had moved to the city 30 minutes to the north of our old one so they were in a new school district. We still lived close enough that I was able to stay in my old job.

Traci and Garrett were married six months after our divorce was final. My daughters told me Traci tried to convince Garrett to move to another community, but he refused since they both had high-paying jobs in their current community. Being the subject of several pornographic videos didn't seem to bother Garrett, they said, although Traci was very embarrassed when somebody said something to her in public, or even if she thought people were talking about her. She told the girls that she was propositioned several times by what she believed to be high school age boys who were hoping she would be their "Mrs. Robinson."

Several times she was asked by boys to autograph a photo of herself from the sex videos they had printed off on their home printers. She told our kids that she was sure Sarah Franks was out there enjoying her misfortune. Both girls told her that Sarah Franks wouldn't be able to enjoy her misfortune if Traci hadn't been a slut in the first place.

Garrett's crowd of mostly younger friends didn't seem to have any problem getting along with Traci, which at least made up for her losing almost all her old friends, the girls told me. That explained why I seemed to keep almost all our joint friends after the divorce, even though many of them were more Traci's than mine originally.

Truthfully, I was surprised with all the dating opportunities out there for me. I had no idea there were that many single women in my age range. It was only because I was a picky bastard that I didn't go out every Friday and Saturday night. I knew that I wasn't going to find Miss Right anytime soon, but I could find a bunch of Miss Right Nows and have sex almost any time I wanted it. I emphasize the term "wanted it," because with all the ready and willing women out there, I never really got to the point where I needed it.

Life was actually turning out pretty good for me, so only occasionally did I pine for my former life. The only time I knew about my ex-wife was when one of the girls told me something. I never asked.

"Hey, Dad, got some Mom news you might be interested in," Emma said to me during a phone call several years after Traci and McFucker married.

I wondered what stupidity she was about to reveal, so I kept quiet. She took my silence for disinterest.

"Dad?" she asked.

"I'm still here, kiddo. I was waiting for you to spill."

"Oh. Okay. Mom's getting a divorce," she blurted out. "Apparently her soul mate found another soul mate, repeatedly, without their clothes on."

"Hmm. What's it been, eight years?" I responded.

This time the silence was on her end.

"Is that all you have, Dad? A 'hmmm.' I was expecting something a little more demonstrative," she said.

"She's my ex, Emma. We haven't been a married couple in a long time. She's way in my past," I remarked.

"Really, Dad? You can't tell me you still don't have some feelings for her," Emma said.

"I suppose I'll always have some feelings for her, kiddo. We were married for almost 20 years. The same way I suppose I'll always have some hatred for her. She wronged me in several ways. She ripped my heart out... which probably explains why the only time I talk to her is at family gatherings... and I never say very much to her.

"Have you ever noticed that the only thing I've ever said to her husband is, 'Get the fuck away from me, you wife-stealing piece of shit?'"

"Now that you mention it, I have heard that phrase pass your lips several times through the years," Emma said, giggling.

"So... I'm sensing that the odds of you two ever reconciling are... slim and none?" she queried.

"That's about right, Em. I could never trust the stupid... woman."

"I get it. Fair enough, Dad. Got anybody trying out for stepmom?" she asked.

"Sorry kid. I'm not really looking for your stepmother," I answered. "I'm having a great time sampling the single women's population in this area."

"Okay, you can stop right there before you cross over into too much information," she said, giggling again.

I really liked Emma's giggle. I missed the days when she and Jenny and I would frolic around the house when they were younger. Sometimes even Traci would join in.

The next time there was a family event, Traci was a solo act, as was I. She worked very hard to stick close to me. I could tell she was working up to trying to talk to me alone. She finally found her opening.

"I-I really need to apologize to you, Will," she started. "I know you know about Garrett cheating on me repeatedly and me filing for divorce. I just wanted to tell you that I've finally learned exactly what it feels like to be in your position... and it doesn't feel good. I'm sorry to have done that to you... and sorry to have been stupid enough and selfish enough to even consider going for another man when I had a happy family to go home to."

"I can't say I'm sorry that you had to go through that, Traci," I said, "but sometimes, karma can be a fickle bitch. You deserved to experience that. Maybe in the future you will consider somebody else in addition to yourself."

"I'd say that was kind of harsh, but in reality I know it's accurate. In hindsight, I threw away a great marriage and family because I was selfish. And now I'll probably be alone the rest of my life," she whined.

If she was hinting, I wasn't taking the bait.

"Can you tell me something? I mean it's been almost 10 years now. My friends all left me. I've had two divorces. It won't make a difference now... but it was you that sent those videos around to everybody, wasn't it? I know now I deserved it, but I never thought you could ever do something that terrible. Not you. It was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

I looked Traci directly in her eyes and didn't hesitate.

"Nope. It wasn't me. Sorry, Traci," I lied without a blink.

She looked surprised, then sad. I know she just wanted a little closure... but it wasn't ever going to come from me. Call it lesson learned.