Many thanks to Techsan for editing this story.
*
It was a busy Saturday at the supermarket in our small Scandinavian town. Short of parking spaces at the supermarket as usual when my wife and I went there to shop. I did as usual; instead of driving around and searching, I stopped my Toyota Rav4 in a strategic place and when a space became empty, I usually got it even when I had to win a "chicken race" to get it.
Of course, people didn't like to lose a "chicken race" but nobody had ever done anything other than wave a fist in the air when they went searching elsewhere. However, there must always be the first time and that very day was the first time the loser got really angry, stopped his small Fiat Panda and rushed toward me and my wife when we left our car and shouted with a loud voice, "What the hell do you think you are? I can tell you are a damned cuckold who thinks he can alleviate his shame by assaulting people with your fucking car."
Then he went back to his car and left. I didn't know him, but obviously he knew my pretty wife Sarah or me, why I asked her, "Who was that man?
I had noted that she had a visible look of discomfort on her face while that man had shouted at me, but now she replied, "How should I know?"
"Obviously he knew at least one of us."
"I'm not sure about that. Such insults are common today."
Probably it was a common expression in the school where she worked as a teacher, but not in my opinion because nobody had ever accused me of being a cuckold before. But how the man had shouted it and the feared expression in Sarah's face got me thinking of the old saying "Where there's smoke there's fire". I knew that I had a serious problem, but couldn't do anything there for the time being so I left that matter and we went into the supermarket to shop.
My wife Sarah is a 43 year old schoolteacher and I am Robin Norrman, a 46 year old owner of a small construction company. We have two children; our son Elliot is 20 years old and student at the university in our county capital. Our daughter Madeleine, who is 18 years old, is in Minnesota as an exchange student for the time being. Sarah and I met at a party, fell in love and, as she wanted to be married before we had children, we did it one year after we met. Our marriage, as for most people, has its ups and downs but never any serious problems.
In my construction company I have three male employees and a female accountant takes care of some administration matters part time a few hours a week in her own home. My small company has a contract with a prefabricated wooden house factory and we are usually booked up for a long time in advance and making good money.
This Saturday evening we were invited to her mother's birthday dinner and none of us cared to make any further comments about the incident earlier in the day at the supermarket.
I knew that Sarah would understand that there would be some expectation from me to investigate that cuckold matter. If she was guilty and wanted to fight for her marriage, she would search for and destroy every possible clue she might have missed earlier. If her cheating had happened a long time ago and already was history or she decided to stop it immediately, my chances of getting any evidence would be some kind of "mission impossible". But if she was still cheating and intended go on with that, I was sure to find it out sooner or later.
On Sunday Sarah had obviously been thinking about the shouting man at the supermarket and asked me, "Did you believe what that man shouted at the supermarket and do you really think that I am cheating on you?"
"No, I don't believe anything at all but I want to be sure that we are playing fair."
"So, you don't trust me, do you?"
"I can't see any reason for you to cheat on me. If you get fed up with me and prefer to find somebody better, just tell me 'I want a divorce' and you are a free woman. No problems getting rid of me if you are playing with open cards. But I will be mad as hell if I ever find that you are fucking some asshole behind my back while we are married."
"I love you, only you, and don't see any reason to think about any divorce. But can't you see how much you have overreacted because some angry lunatic insulted you?"
"I really hope that he was wrong because I will never be a man to forgive a cheating wife."
Later that Sunday I went to a soccer match with three friends and when we were sitting at a pub for a beer after the match, I told my friends what the angry fellow had shouted. I told them that if it was as usual that the cheated husband was the last one in town to know, they could feel free to tell me if they knew anything about Sarah.
None of them had anything to say and everybody took it as a good joke. When one of them promised to ask his wife, the other two promised to do the same thing.
The next day I bought three voice operated very small electronic recorders, and then hid one in Sarah's car, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. If the lover was somebody outside her school, she might call him from her car. The neighbor's wife used to come in to Sarah now and then for some gossip, therefore the two recorders in the house.
Cuckold or not, but from now on I was at least a hunting cuckold.
Sarah and I had a shared home economy and because her full time job at the school meant much shorter days than my job, she took care of paying all our bills and such things in our family so I seldom cared to look in her ring binders of receipts. I waited until her bowling evening and began a careful investigation as soon as she had left the house.
The line-connected phone was in my name, so I had already checked outgoing calls at my personal page at the Telecom site and had not found anything of interest. But our credit card bills made me suspicious. The gasoline company bills and all my and the children's card bills were there in good order but the last two months' bank card bills were missing from Sarah's and my shared account.
She used to print out a copy of the paying order when she paid the bills via the net and I could see that they were paid as usual. Without any doubt, that was a clue indicating that something was wrong.
Instead of asking Sarah about that matter, I sent an e-mail to the card company and requested copies of the missing bills and prayed to the good Lord that there would be some totally innocent explanation in the bills. To my great luck my present job was only seven kilometers from home, so I could make a quick trip during my lunch breaks to check our mailbox before Sarah came home from the school because who knows what Sarah would do if she found my copies and got suspicious. After all, if she were guilty, she would fight for her marriage.
The next clue came from the recorder in Sarah's car. She used to share her car to bowling with one of her friends living rather close to us. On their way home the other woman had asked her, "How about Robin? Is he still accusing you?"
"Not really, but I'm sure he has a serious doubt because he offered me a divorce on fair terms instead of cheating."
"Do you think about it?"
"Of course not. It is not on that level. I love my Robin and have no intentions about dumping him. What would the children think about me if I divorced their father?"
"Don't do anything stupid. By the way did you see the nice gold chain Anne's got from her new lover boy?"
Then they began their gossip about some Anne, uninteresting for me.
I listened several times to their talk and though no cheating was mentioned, I had the feeling that Sarah would have talked quite differently if she had been innocent. But she knew that the friend knew something about her and therefore didn't want to tell her any more information to be known around town. Not much for a clue but "many drops will form a river".
Next Saturday afternoon there was a top match between two of the best teams in the country on the big screen TV at the pub and as my friends and I had staked some money on the football (soccer) pool, we even had something of our own interest to watch.
Two of my friends had nothing to tell me but one said that his wife had asked a friend of hers who usually knew about everything in our town and she had said that there had been some vague rumors about Sarah Norrman at her school but nothing was known about the man. Further one step forward. Though there still wasn't any real evidence, the several circumstantial items pointing in the same direction began to convince me that the shouting angry man at the parking lot had been right.
The relationship between Sarah and me was polite but cool. Neither of us wanted any arguing for the time being and we had skipped the usual hugging and kissing and even sex. It felt like waiting for a storm after getting a storm warning.
Nothing of interest collected from the voice recorders in the house. Both the neighbor's wife and one of Sarah's best friends had visited her but there had been only the usual woman talk without any comments about her affair.
Then I got the copies of the missing bills and my mission took a quantum leap forward. On the oldest bill was a purchase from the alcohol store in the town next to ours. One thing was for sure - I was in no way involved in or told about that purchase because I had connections who brought me everything the family needed from abroad for much smaller prices compared to the highly taxed stuff at the state owned monopoly stores. I was surprised by the amount. If it been one bottle as a gift to her lover boy, he had gotten really good stuff.
The other month Sarah had paid a gas station and a hotel in a town about 40 kilometers from home. I knew for sure, 100 percent sure, that she hadn't been away overnight that month. Not difficult to guess what that damn room been used for. Now I had to face the cruel truth; I was a cuckold.
During the years I had seen cuckolded husbands react in many different ways. Some cried and accepted their fate, some didn't care a shit about it, a few even turned hot about that and some real men whipped the shit out of the wife fucker and kicked out the cheating bitch.
I had a very limited choice, in fact no choice at all if I wanted to remain as a respected man among my employees, friends, relatives and acquaintances. Find the damn pussy hound and make him regret what he had done to me. As long as I was on the right path and did the right things, I would get all the support I needed.
Accusing Sarah could wait for later on. The first step would be to find the damn asshole that fucked her. Because I trusted my employees 100 percent, I told them about my problems and as I had expected, all of them promised to help me. During an extra long coffee break we agreed on a simple plan.
Our plan turned to action only two days later when Sarah told me that she was invited to join a new lyrics group that evening. In the future they intended to met two times a month in one of the small rooms at the public library or sometimes even in some member's home. She even asked me if it was okay for me to have one of their future meetings in our home. Sarah sounded very trustworthy so I of course told her that I had no objections to that. She had a satisfied look in her face when she thanked me for my understanding.
But then I went in to the bathroom and pushed the send button on my cell phone, which sent an earlier written message to my employees. To my great relief none of them were busy with something more important that evening and all three replied that they were ready for action, as we had planned.
Sarah left slightly before six o'clock and promised to be back sometimes between nine and ten.
A few minutes later a Volvo V70 stopped on the street outside my house. I went out of the house and into the car and left my own car well visible on my driveway. The man in the car was Ronny, one of my employees, and within a minute he got a call on his cell phone. He said only, "Yes, yes, but keep the distance and be very discrete. Did you see the license plate? Yes, good."
Then he reported that Sarah had parked her red Opel Astra outside the library, but remained sitting in her car and been picked up by a man in a black Saab 9-5. He told me the number and I sent it to the national car register as a text message. The automatic reply with the name of the car owner came within a few seconds. To our surprise it read, "Linus Felixsen."
Thanks to his quite unusual name we immediately knew who the damn wife fucker was.
He was a well-known character in our town. A good-looking dentist in his early forties with a reputation of doing a good job for a high price. Nothing wrong with that, but he was even chairman of the board of the Football Club and very much both hated and admired in that position due to hiring an unknown but expensive player from Brazil. He was even chairman in the local Malt Whisky Club, which caused many sour comments from those who regarded sport and booze as an unwanted combination. I can't deny that I was a bit surprised to find out that it was Felixsen because I had met his wife a few times at parents' committee meetings at the school and she was a very nice and easygoing woman who even worked as his assistant at their dental clinic.
Only a few minutes later we got information on the phone from Eric, who said that Sarah and Felixsen were on the main road driving towards the town 40 kilometers away where Sarah once had paid for a hotel room. Ronny and I didn't see any reason for us to go there, so we went back to my home where I took the spare key to Sarah's car and then we went to a café for a coffee break while waiting for the expected news from Eric and Emil, who tailed Felixsen's car.
When we got the information that Sarah and Felixsen had gone to a hotel, we held a short phone conference with Eric end Emil and agreed that the damn Felixsen deserved a better punishment than disturbing them in some way and catching them when they came out of the hotel. I asked Eric and Emil to get back home again. They had no objections when I told them what Ronny and I intended to do with Sarah's car while waiting for them to come back.
While waiting for Eric and Emil, Ronny and I went back to the library, where I took Sarah's car with the spare key and parked it at Ronny's place while we waited for the two others to drop in to make further plans. After several unrealistic plans, Ronny came out with a great suggestion, which we agreed to perform as soon as possible.
After our meeting I took Sarah's car just outside the town where I parked it just after the first bend 20 meters into the narrow forest road which lead to Felixsen's picturesque farm house at a small lake 500 meters further away on the road. I put in the reverse gear and the handbrake, took the voice recorder, locked the car so it blocked the way home for Felixsen. Emil picked me up there and drove me home.
Back home it wasn't funny to sit down and know that Felixsen fucked my lovely wife and the mother of my children at that very moment. If I had known that this had been the first time for them, I would have had a good reason to take action at the hotel and stop it. But now when they had already done it before we didn't want them to get too worried already now because there were some nice surprises waiting for them. They would see the first one this very evening.
While waiting for Sarah, I listened to the voice recorder from her car, which had recorded her taking a short call that evening, "Sarah...Yes, I'm waiting at the library......Yes.....Soon."
About nine thirty in the evening Sarah rushed into our house screaming, "My car is stolen!"
"From where?"
"The library."
"Did you call the police? Tomorrow we have to report it to the insurance company."
"Yes, I did. They came to the parking lot. Everything is clear with them."
"Did the police bring you home?"
Now she hesitated for a second before she replied because she suspected that I had seen the black Saab 9-5. "No, it was one man from the Lyrics Circle."
"Who?"
"A dentist whose name is Felixsen?"
"Linus Felixsen, that damn disgusting whoremonger who is famous for fucking the cheapest sluts though he is married to a very lovely handsome wife. Is that creep really interested in lyrics or is he there only for his damn pussy hunting? Be careful with that horny creep."
Sarah didn't look happy, not at all and my sour comments about Felixsen didn't cheer her up. But before she could think of something to reply, her cell phone began to ring. I took her by surprise, grabbed the phone from her hand when she took it up from her purse and replied, "Norrman."
A male voice said, "I want speak to Sarah. It is important."
"I would like to know who you are and what is so important? "
"It is about her stolen car."
Sarah had turned ashen gray and feared the worst when she suspected that the caller was Felixsen asking for her. Of course I knew that it was Felixsen. But I wanted him to understand that if he wanted to get Sarah's car moved from blocking his road he had to cooperate with me.
"Okay, Charlie, it sounds interesting but you forgot to tell me who the hell you are. When you have done that, we can begin talking about the car. Are you the damn thief?"
"My name is Linus Felixsen and I have never stolen anything in my life."
I knew that he hated the nickname "Felix" people used about him because there was a stupid cat in comic strips and animated films with that name. Stolen or cheated, he had fucked my wife this very evening, so I continued, "Okay, Felix, let's talk about the car."
He took the humiliation and replied, "It is parked on the road to my house and blocking the road."
"How do you know that it is Sarah's car? There are many red Astras in this town. (Opel Astra is a popular small GM car.) Have you called the police and told them that you found the car?"
Sarah looked ready to begin puking at the excitement and I began to fear that she would confess, which didn't fit in our plans. Obviously it was high time for me to calm down a bit.
"It maybe sounds weird to you but I promised Sarah to search for her car at a few places after taking her home. No, I haven't called the police, because I wanted to talk to Sarah first."
That sounded sensible so I replied, "I'm Sarah's husband and shall handle this matter from now on. Just stay where you are and give me your number so I can call you back after I've talked with the police."
He gave me the number to his cell phone. I checked Sarah's phone for it but she didn't dare to have it stored. I never asked him how he could know Sarah's number because that information is easily available from the net operator.
The look of fear or remorse still remained in Sarah's face when I told her, "It was the damn whore-fucker Felixsen. He has found your car on the road to his house."
For some reason she didn't look much happier when she heard the information that Felixsen had found her stolen car.
I didn't call the police because they could be curious why the car was left locked and without any visible damage after the theft. Of course I had preferred to have Felixsen's road blocked for a much longer time with her car but hopefully he had already had some bad feelings about it. I asked Sarah if she knew where Felixsen lived but she noted the trap and responded negatively after a slight hesitation.
I called Felixsen with Sarah's cell phone but he suspected it was me calling and didn't reply with anything like, "Hello, Darling." However, he told me where to find him.
When we got there, Sarah told me that she would get out and take her car but I had no intentions of letting the love birds talk there and then, so I said to her, "No need for you to get out. Just take my car home. I have to talk with Felix and take some photos for the police of your car."
Felixsen told me he had not the slightest idea why the car thief had parked Sarah's car on his road. After pretending to examine the car for a while and taking some pictures I left in it. Sarah's cell phone rang ten seconds later and I replied, "Robin."
It was a surprised Felixsen who asked if I had called the police.
I said, "Yes, of course," but didn't do that before standing on my driveway.
The police swore at me for taking the car and destroying all clues they might found in it after the thief and therefore they closed the case.
The next morning my employees had a good laugh when they were told about the solution of Sarah and Felixsen's car problems last evening. Sarah wasn't very happy when we met at home after work. Obviously she had talked with Felixsen during the day. Both of them must have understood that her car moved to his road was caused by their affair.
At nine o'clock on the first Monday morning after Sarah's Lyrics Circle, Ronny went past Felixsen's clinic and saw his black Saab parked outside. Parked at the town square, he phoned the clinic and when Mrs. Felixsen replied, he just said, "Sorry, wrong number."
Now we were ready for action. Eric remained on the job so it didn't look totally abandoned if somebody came there. The three of us left in Ronny's silver colored V70 and left Emil at the crossroad to Felixsen's house where he hid in the forest as a sentinel.
Ronny and I hid the V70 on a small road at the opposite side of the main road and walked the 500 meters to Felixsen's house wearing a backpack with three 1.5 liter plastic Fanta bottles with pig-piss and some tools.
To our great pleasure he had no burglar alarm, so it was a piece of cake to get into the house without leaving any visible clues. Thanks to our thin neoprene gloves we could do all our work without leaving any fingerprints.
First we went to the master bedroom, found out which side of the expensive bed was his, lifted up the comforter and poured a liter of pig-piss from a large Fanta bottle on his bed and laid back the comforter.
We would have preferred to use our own pee but didn't dare to use that in case he called the police and they took DNA samples.
Then we found his well-supplied bar with expensive malt whiskies. On a table, next to a very comfortable chair, we found a decanter with whisky and two crystal glasses. We poured out the whisky in a plastic bucket from the kitchen and replaced it with pig-piss.
After that we had a hard time pouring out something from all the malt whisky bottles and replacing it with the equal quantity of pig-piss. That whisky operation took some time but we figured that Felixsen deserved a memorable punishment for fucking Sarah.
Our last action took place in his home office, where we found his laptop. Ronny had made a special cord, which led 220 volt (standard in Europe) into USB outlets and caused some smell of burnt plastic before it blew the fuse for his office. We didn't find any home-burned CD or DVD, only one USB memory in a drawer, which I took. Then we left his soon-to-be hopefully not so happy home.
Back at the job site we worked as usual and for the first time since I came to know who fucked my wife and crushed my marriage, I began to feel in a better mood. My employees did their best to cheer me up by talking about that asshole sitting in his comfortable chair drinking pig-pee from his crystal glass.
Ronny checked Felixsen's clinic even the next morning and he was there as usual but could hardly have slept in his pissed bed. Now he must understand that he was the target for some kind of well-planned action and hopefully he even feared that there would be more to come.
We could hardly think that he had called the police for his pissed bed and whisky. He knew that the police reported everything to the local newspaper and the sort of crime and identity of the victim would soon be known and make him a laughing stock in town. Therefore he was left sweating for a while but the next action was probably already planned.
Even I was sweating during my investigation of the USB memory stick we found in Felixsen's drawer. It contained pictures taken with a cell phone camera. Many of them were uninteresting for me but there were several pictures of Sarah. Some pictures of her stripping, some of her naked and some of her sucking a cock. One of the sucking pictures was very good; it showed lot of her naked body and she looked at the camera while sucking the cock. The best thing was the time and date, which said that the picture was taken during her Lyrics Circle evening. I burnt it on a CD, gave it to Ronny and asked him to send me a copy in an anonymous letter.
As expected Sarah had no Lyrics Circle meeting the next week and when I asked her why not, she told me that she intended to skip it for ever because it hadn't been as interesting as expected.
The next action had taken place when Felixsen was on his way home from a late board meeting at the local Football Club. According to what he had told his wife, she told the police and the local newspaper what happened to him. A hundred meters into the forest road, he had to stop his car for a plastic cone blocking the road with a sign saying "WARNING - ACCIDENT" and a flashing red light. Only a second after he had stopped, the car door was opened, and he was dragged out of the car by two men in black overalls and black ski masks. Out on the road he was severely beaten and had his right arm broken.
This time his wife called both police and ambulance, but the two policemen who visited him at the hospital the next morning had not gotten any useful information from a very frightened Felixsen and the local newspaper reported that it seemed to be "disagreements about sport gone too far."
To my surprise the police have not connected me with any questions about Felixsen and that wouldn't have been of any of help to them because I had spent that very evening at home with Sarah and her sister who had visited us to talk about their mom's birthday. However, assault on a road is a serious crime and if Mrs. Felixsen has told them about her husband's affair after I told her about it, I was sure to get a visit. But if she thought that he deserved the punishment she would probably keep quite and let the police keep the case in their high pile of "unsolved cases without any clues".
Sarah was in a highly visible bad mood during the few days after she had read about Felixsen's fate in the local morning newspaper. I didn't do anything about our relationship during these few days. But then I took a day off from the job to take care of some necessary matters in town. Sarah was surprised when she saw that I was at home, casually dressed, when she got home from her job at the school slight after three that afternoon.
I had already made coffee and asked her to sit down in the living room to talk about some matters. As soon as she was sitting down, I asked her, "I saw that there were two credit card bills missing in the ring binder. Why?"
"Because they are not correct and I have complained."
"Why haven't you told me about such a serious problem?"
"Because I expected to get it solved without any problems."
I took up copies of the two bills from my briefcase and gave them to her and said, "Could you please tell me what is wrong in them?"
Now she was blushing when she began to read the bills for a while before she replied, "There is something from an alcohol store, gas station and a hotel."
"But you never asked me if I had bought those things before you complained to the bank. You ought to know almost everybody at the bank. Can you remember to whom you complained?"
"No, and why in the hell this cross examination about these damn bills?"
"Because I want to know the truth. Please remember that there are cameras at the gas station and the hotel clerk may be able to recognize you."
"That's impossible because I've never been there. You ought to know that."
"I'm sorry, very sorry, Sarah, but I regret to say that I know for sure that you and Linus Felixsen even spent a couple of hours at that same hotel that evening I moved your car from the library parking area to block his road. May I presume that the two of you hardly had any lyrics reading there if you don't call that for lyrics?"
I gave her one of Felixsen's photos showing her sucking a cock and said, "I got this in an anonymous letter yesterday. Please see the date and time at the photo."
Now she was ashen gray and the only thing she said was, "Oh, my God! Oh, no."
I continued, "Therefore it is not difficult to guess that you bought an expensive malt whisky as a gift to that damn asshole's collection. Did you make him extra happy by telling him that I was paying half of that damn bottle?"
Now she was sobbing, "No, no, no, it is not what you think, no, no, no."
"No, it is much worse. The cruel truth is that the angry man who lost the 'chicken race' at the parking lot was bloody right. Today I know for sure that I am a damn cuckold."
Then I gave her the divorce papers and told her that I had put the house on sale and from now on she was expected to sleep in the spare bedroom until she found somewhere to move.
Sarah cried hysterically when I went into the kitchen and phoned Mrs. Felixsen. To my great pleasure, she still remembered me from the committee in school. But she wasn't very happy when I told her that only a few minutes earlier my wife had confessed her affair with Mr. Felixsen. She asked me what I intended to do about it and when she heard that my divorce was already filed and our house was for sale, she shouted "Damn it, I'll do the same."
Mrs. Felixsen even did something very unexpected. The next day she went to the school where Sarah worked and happened to get there when a number of teachers were gathered in the teachers' lounge. She asked for Sarah, went straight to her and gave Sarah's face a hard swing with her right open hand, shouting, "You cheap slut fucked my husband!"
Sarah also received a hard hit from Mrs. Felixsen's backhand on the other side of her face before her shocked fellow teachers saved her from further slaps by taking Mrs. Felixsen away from her.
Felixsen never opened his dental clinic again in our town. He sold it a couple of weeks after he was out of the hospital and left town. He and his wife sold their house and the ex-wife stayed in their house until the new owner moved in.
Sarah really worked hard trying to get me to forgive her cheating. She told me all the expected bullshit that I was her only love and the affair with Felixsen had only been for getting some excitement and even spiced up our love life. She promised to be the perfect faithful loving wife and mistress who never denied me any kind of sex.
Even our children did their best to get me to forgive Sarah, but I couldn't even think about it because her affair had been much more than a one-time fling and because what I saw her do for him in the pictures.
We sold our house and shared everything 50/50 before we parted. Both of us rented an apartment as the first step in our new lives.
I neither know for sure nor care a shit if it is true or not but the rumors say that Felixsen had loudly cursed the first day he met Sarah and refused to have anything to do with her after all the painful events which became his destiny due to their affair. Sarah had so much pride that she gave up after her first failed attempt to get a date with him after I had filed for divorce and she found out what many cheaters had before her: cheating might be an exciting game but seldom leads to anything of real value afterwards.
The divorce hit me hard, very hard indeed. My friends noted how bad I was feeling and had a long serious talk with me about my problems. They ended it with a simple advice that though Sarah was a lovely woman, she wasn't the only fish in the pond and I had to go fishing to see that it was the truth of the day.
Ronny, who was a kind of computer nerd, said, "New times, new habits. Today your fishing waters aren't limited to the local bar, not at all because, thanks to the web, you have the whole country, the whole of Scandinavia and if that's not enough, the whole EU and in the last end the whole world."
It was a challenge even for him and he helped me write an ad and send it to what he said was the most popular dating site. The ad was obviously well written because I got many replies and many good laughs after I phoned some of the women who had enclosed nice pictures and written their cell phone numbers in the reply mails.
The first one I called had many questions about my car and salary but almost none about myself. The second suggested a two-week trip to South Africa on my behalf because she wanted to see the wild animals there. The third confessed that the picture in her reply was of her younger sister because she hadn't any of herself but she promised that I would hardly note any real difference. Ronny's ad was very good for the quantity of replies but less good for finding somebody interested of a serious real relationship.
I had almost given up the web as a serious matter when I happened to read Linda's ad at the same site. It said that she was newly separated from a cheating husband and wanted to talk with somebody with equal experiences for helping each other to get over the pain. I wrote a long reply to her but hadn't much hope of hearing from her when she called me one evening. She was an easygoing woman and to my great pleasure living only 40 kilometers from me in the same town where Sarah and Felixsen had met at a hotel.
After several phone talks we decided to meet for a lunch in her hometown. It went very well and the next time we met at a café at the mall in the county capital. Linda came with her 17 year old daughter Jennifer and I came with my son Elliot who was living in that town as a student. Young people are more used to net dating and it was no sensation but maybe a little funny for them that their divorced parents did it and thereafter met in the real life. They greeted each other with, "Hi, sis" and "Hi, big brother."
Obviously the youngsters had a good first impression of each other and after some small talk Elliot agreed to get his girlfriend, who knew the best shops in town, with them and help Jennifer shop for some clothes. They went away and left Linda and me. Eventually we left for shopping and though I usually hated shopping, we had a pleasant time with much laughing until both of us had found what we wanted.
When the young people were back, Jennifer was very happy because Elliot's girlfriend Anna had helped her to find exactly what she had wanted. She told me that her mom liked me, so it would be okay if I became mom's boyfriend and Elliot said something equal to Linda.
Jennifer spent the next weekend with her father and Linda invited me to her house. I went there Friday evening with wine and flowers and Linda had cooked a nice dinner for us. After the romantic dinner we had some necking in her living room before we went to bed. I knew that it would be some kind of "moment of truth" because if I failed to be what she wanted me to be in the bed, it would be much more difficult to win her true love.
I choose to make it slow and tender loving instead of hard fucking and obviously I did the right thing because Linda had three intensive orgasms during that first night together. In the morning she told me that she was very happy she met me and she was in love with me. The night had been much better than expected even for me and as I already had warm feelings for her, I told her, "I love you, Linda."
Of course, if I'd been in the position to decide my future, my first choice would have been continuing a happy marriage with Sarah. But she cancelled all such possibilities and I still don't know why and how she began her affair with Felixsen. All I knew was how it ended. Who was the angry man who shouted "cuckold" to me at the parking lot? Please don't ask me because I've never seen him after that. My only guess is that he somehow knew Sarah.
Today Sarah has left our town for a teaching job in the county capital where she is living together with an accountant. I have never met him but Elliot says that mom's boyfriend seems to be okay both in his opinion and even Anna agreed with him.
Though we were in love, both Linda and I know that it will need a lot of compromising to create a good long lasting relationship and new marriage with two middle aged divorced people but we know that we can and will fix it. That's for sure.
*
It was a busy Saturday at the supermarket in our small Scandinavian town. Short of parking spaces at the supermarket as usual when my wife and I went there to shop. I did as usual; instead of driving around and searching, I stopped my Toyota Rav4 in a strategic place and when a space became empty, I usually got it even when I had to win a "chicken race" to get it.
Of course, people didn't like to lose a "chicken race" but nobody had ever done anything other than wave a fist in the air when they went searching elsewhere. However, there must always be the first time and that very day was the first time the loser got really angry, stopped his small Fiat Panda and rushed toward me and my wife when we left our car and shouted with a loud voice, "What the hell do you think you are? I can tell you are a damned cuckold who thinks he can alleviate his shame by assaulting people with your fucking car."
Then he went back to his car and left. I didn't know him, but obviously he knew my pretty wife Sarah or me, why I asked her, "Who was that man?
I had noted that she had a visible look of discomfort on her face while that man had shouted at me, but now she replied, "How should I know?"
"Obviously he knew at least one of us."
"I'm not sure about that. Such insults are common today."
Probably it was a common expression in the school where she worked as a teacher, but not in my opinion because nobody had ever accused me of being a cuckold before. But how the man had shouted it and the feared expression in Sarah's face got me thinking of the old saying "Where there's smoke there's fire". I knew that I had a serious problem, but couldn't do anything there for the time being so I left that matter and we went into the supermarket to shop.
My wife Sarah is a 43 year old schoolteacher and I am Robin Norrman, a 46 year old owner of a small construction company. We have two children; our son Elliot is 20 years old and student at the university in our county capital. Our daughter Madeleine, who is 18 years old, is in Minnesota as an exchange student for the time being. Sarah and I met at a party, fell in love and, as she wanted to be married before we had children, we did it one year after we met. Our marriage, as for most people, has its ups and downs but never any serious problems.
In my construction company I have three male employees and a female accountant takes care of some administration matters part time a few hours a week in her own home. My small company has a contract with a prefabricated wooden house factory and we are usually booked up for a long time in advance and making good money.
This Saturday evening we were invited to her mother's birthday dinner and none of us cared to make any further comments about the incident earlier in the day at the supermarket.
I knew that Sarah would understand that there would be some expectation from me to investigate that cuckold matter. If she was guilty and wanted to fight for her marriage, she would search for and destroy every possible clue she might have missed earlier. If her cheating had happened a long time ago and already was history or she decided to stop it immediately, my chances of getting any evidence would be some kind of "mission impossible". But if she was still cheating and intended go on with that, I was sure to find it out sooner or later.
On Sunday Sarah had obviously been thinking about the shouting man at the supermarket and asked me, "Did you believe what that man shouted at the supermarket and do you really think that I am cheating on you?"
"No, I don't believe anything at all but I want to be sure that we are playing fair."
"So, you don't trust me, do you?"
"I can't see any reason for you to cheat on me. If you get fed up with me and prefer to find somebody better, just tell me 'I want a divorce' and you are a free woman. No problems getting rid of me if you are playing with open cards. But I will be mad as hell if I ever find that you are fucking some asshole behind my back while we are married."
"I love you, only you, and don't see any reason to think about any divorce. But can't you see how much you have overreacted because some angry lunatic insulted you?"
"I really hope that he was wrong because I will never be a man to forgive a cheating wife."
Later that Sunday I went to a soccer match with three friends and when we were sitting at a pub for a beer after the match, I told my friends what the angry fellow had shouted. I told them that if it was as usual that the cheated husband was the last one in town to know, they could feel free to tell me if they knew anything about Sarah.
None of them had anything to say and everybody took it as a good joke. When one of them promised to ask his wife, the other two promised to do the same thing.
The next day I bought three voice operated very small electronic recorders, and then hid one in Sarah's car, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. If the lover was somebody outside her school, she might call him from her car. The neighbor's wife used to come in to Sarah now and then for some gossip, therefore the two recorders in the house.
Cuckold or not, but from now on I was at least a hunting cuckold.
Sarah and I had a shared home economy and because her full time job at the school meant much shorter days than my job, she took care of paying all our bills and such things in our family so I seldom cared to look in her ring binders of receipts. I waited until her bowling evening and began a careful investigation as soon as she had left the house.
The line-connected phone was in my name, so I had already checked outgoing calls at my personal page at the Telecom site and had not found anything of interest. But our credit card bills made me suspicious. The gasoline company bills and all my and the children's card bills were there in good order but the last two months' bank card bills were missing from Sarah's and my shared account.
She used to print out a copy of the paying order when she paid the bills via the net and I could see that they were paid as usual. Without any doubt, that was a clue indicating that something was wrong.
Instead of asking Sarah about that matter, I sent an e-mail to the card company and requested copies of the missing bills and prayed to the good Lord that there would be some totally innocent explanation in the bills. To my great luck my present job was only seven kilometers from home, so I could make a quick trip during my lunch breaks to check our mailbox before Sarah came home from the school because who knows what Sarah would do if she found my copies and got suspicious. After all, if she were guilty, she would fight for her marriage.
The next clue came from the recorder in Sarah's car. She used to share her car to bowling with one of her friends living rather close to us. On their way home the other woman had asked her, "How about Robin? Is he still accusing you?"
"Not really, but I'm sure he has a serious doubt because he offered me a divorce on fair terms instead of cheating."
"Do you think about it?"
"Of course not. It is not on that level. I love my Robin and have no intentions about dumping him. What would the children think about me if I divorced their father?"
"Don't do anything stupid. By the way did you see the nice gold chain Anne's got from her new lover boy?"
Then they began their gossip about some Anne, uninteresting for me.
I listened several times to their talk and though no cheating was mentioned, I had the feeling that Sarah would have talked quite differently if she had been innocent. But she knew that the friend knew something about her and therefore didn't want to tell her any more information to be known around town. Not much for a clue but "many drops will form a river".
Next Saturday afternoon there was a top match between two of the best teams in the country on the big screen TV at the pub and as my friends and I had staked some money on the football (soccer) pool, we even had something of our own interest to watch.
Two of my friends had nothing to tell me but one said that his wife had asked a friend of hers who usually knew about everything in our town and she had said that there had been some vague rumors about Sarah Norrman at her school but nothing was known about the man. Further one step forward. Though there still wasn't any real evidence, the several circumstantial items pointing in the same direction began to convince me that the shouting angry man at the parking lot had been right.
The relationship between Sarah and me was polite but cool. Neither of us wanted any arguing for the time being and we had skipped the usual hugging and kissing and even sex. It felt like waiting for a storm after getting a storm warning.
Nothing of interest collected from the voice recorders in the house. Both the neighbor's wife and one of Sarah's best friends had visited her but there had been only the usual woman talk without any comments about her affair.
Then I got the copies of the missing bills and my mission took a quantum leap forward. On the oldest bill was a purchase from the alcohol store in the town next to ours. One thing was for sure - I was in no way involved in or told about that purchase because I had connections who brought me everything the family needed from abroad for much smaller prices compared to the highly taxed stuff at the state owned monopoly stores. I was surprised by the amount. If it been one bottle as a gift to her lover boy, he had gotten really good stuff.
The other month Sarah had paid a gas station and a hotel in a town about 40 kilometers from home. I knew for sure, 100 percent sure, that she hadn't been away overnight that month. Not difficult to guess what that damn room been used for. Now I had to face the cruel truth; I was a cuckold.
During the years I had seen cuckolded husbands react in many different ways. Some cried and accepted their fate, some didn't care a shit about it, a few even turned hot about that and some real men whipped the shit out of the wife fucker and kicked out the cheating bitch.
I had a very limited choice, in fact no choice at all if I wanted to remain as a respected man among my employees, friends, relatives and acquaintances. Find the damn pussy hound and make him regret what he had done to me. As long as I was on the right path and did the right things, I would get all the support I needed.
Accusing Sarah could wait for later on. The first step would be to find the damn asshole that fucked her. Because I trusted my employees 100 percent, I told them about my problems and as I had expected, all of them promised to help me. During an extra long coffee break we agreed on a simple plan.
Our plan turned to action only two days later when Sarah told me that she was invited to join a new lyrics group that evening. In the future they intended to met two times a month in one of the small rooms at the public library or sometimes even in some member's home. She even asked me if it was okay for me to have one of their future meetings in our home. Sarah sounded very trustworthy so I of course told her that I had no objections to that. She had a satisfied look in her face when she thanked me for my understanding.
But then I went in to the bathroom and pushed the send button on my cell phone, which sent an earlier written message to my employees. To my great relief none of them were busy with something more important that evening and all three replied that they were ready for action, as we had planned.
Sarah left slightly before six o'clock and promised to be back sometimes between nine and ten.
A few minutes later a Volvo V70 stopped on the street outside my house. I went out of the house and into the car and left my own car well visible on my driveway. The man in the car was Ronny, one of my employees, and within a minute he got a call on his cell phone. He said only, "Yes, yes, but keep the distance and be very discrete. Did you see the license plate? Yes, good."
Then he reported that Sarah had parked her red Opel Astra outside the library, but remained sitting in her car and been picked up by a man in a black Saab 9-5. He told me the number and I sent it to the national car register as a text message. The automatic reply with the name of the car owner came within a few seconds. To our surprise it read, "Linus Felixsen."
Thanks to his quite unusual name we immediately knew who the damn wife fucker was.
He was a well-known character in our town. A good-looking dentist in his early forties with a reputation of doing a good job for a high price. Nothing wrong with that, but he was even chairman of the board of the Football Club and very much both hated and admired in that position due to hiring an unknown but expensive player from Brazil. He was even chairman in the local Malt Whisky Club, which caused many sour comments from those who regarded sport and booze as an unwanted combination. I can't deny that I was a bit surprised to find out that it was Felixsen because I had met his wife a few times at parents' committee meetings at the school and she was a very nice and easygoing woman who even worked as his assistant at their dental clinic.
Only a few minutes later we got information on the phone from Eric, who said that Sarah and Felixsen were on the main road driving towards the town 40 kilometers away where Sarah once had paid for a hotel room. Ronny and I didn't see any reason for us to go there, so we went back to my home where I took the spare key to Sarah's car and then we went to a café for a coffee break while waiting for the expected news from Eric and Emil, who tailed Felixsen's car.
When we got the information that Sarah and Felixsen had gone to a hotel, we held a short phone conference with Eric end Emil and agreed that the damn Felixsen deserved a better punishment than disturbing them in some way and catching them when they came out of the hotel. I asked Eric and Emil to get back home again. They had no objections when I told them what Ronny and I intended to do with Sarah's car while waiting for them to come back.
While waiting for Eric and Emil, Ronny and I went back to the library, where I took Sarah's car with the spare key and parked it at Ronny's place while we waited for the two others to drop in to make further plans. After several unrealistic plans, Ronny came out with a great suggestion, which we agreed to perform as soon as possible.
After our meeting I took Sarah's car just outside the town where I parked it just after the first bend 20 meters into the narrow forest road which lead to Felixsen's picturesque farm house at a small lake 500 meters further away on the road. I put in the reverse gear and the handbrake, took the voice recorder, locked the car so it blocked the way home for Felixsen. Emil picked me up there and drove me home.
Back home it wasn't funny to sit down and know that Felixsen fucked my lovely wife and the mother of my children at that very moment. If I had known that this had been the first time for them, I would have had a good reason to take action at the hotel and stop it. But now when they had already done it before we didn't want them to get too worried already now because there were some nice surprises waiting for them. They would see the first one this very evening.
While waiting for Sarah, I listened to the voice recorder from her car, which had recorded her taking a short call that evening, "Sarah...Yes, I'm waiting at the library......Yes.....Soon."
About nine thirty in the evening Sarah rushed into our house screaming, "My car is stolen!"
"From where?"
"The library."
"Did you call the police? Tomorrow we have to report it to the insurance company."
"Yes, I did. They came to the parking lot. Everything is clear with them."
"Did the police bring you home?"
Now she hesitated for a second before she replied because she suspected that I had seen the black Saab 9-5. "No, it was one man from the Lyrics Circle."
"Who?"
"A dentist whose name is Felixsen?"
"Linus Felixsen, that damn disgusting whoremonger who is famous for fucking the cheapest sluts though he is married to a very lovely handsome wife. Is that creep really interested in lyrics or is he there only for his damn pussy hunting? Be careful with that horny creep."
Sarah didn't look happy, not at all and my sour comments about Felixsen didn't cheer her up. But before she could think of something to reply, her cell phone began to ring. I took her by surprise, grabbed the phone from her hand when she took it up from her purse and replied, "Norrman."
A male voice said, "I want speak to Sarah. It is important."
"I would like to know who you are and what is so important? "
"It is about her stolen car."
Sarah had turned ashen gray and feared the worst when she suspected that the caller was Felixsen asking for her. Of course I knew that it was Felixsen. But I wanted him to understand that if he wanted to get Sarah's car moved from blocking his road he had to cooperate with me.
"Okay, Charlie, it sounds interesting but you forgot to tell me who the hell you are. When you have done that, we can begin talking about the car. Are you the damn thief?"
"My name is Linus Felixsen and I have never stolen anything in my life."
I knew that he hated the nickname "Felix" people used about him because there was a stupid cat in comic strips and animated films with that name. Stolen or cheated, he had fucked my wife this very evening, so I continued, "Okay, Felix, let's talk about the car."
He took the humiliation and replied, "It is parked on the road to my house and blocking the road."
"How do you know that it is Sarah's car? There are many red Astras in this town. (Opel Astra is a popular small GM car.) Have you called the police and told them that you found the car?"
Sarah looked ready to begin puking at the excitement and I began to fear that she would confess, which didn't fit in our plans. Obviously it was high time for me to calm down a bit.
"It maybe sounds weird to you but I promised Sarah to search for her car at a few places after taking her home. No, I haven't called the police, because I wanted to talk to Sarah first."
That sounded sensible so I replied, "I'm Sarah's husband and shall handle this matter from now on. Just stay where you are and give me your number so I can call you back after I've talked with the police."
He gave me the number to his cell phone. I checked Sarah's phone for it but she didn't dare to have it stored. I never asked him how he could know Sarah's number because that information is easily available from the net operator.
The look of fear or remorse still remained in Sarah's face when I told her, "It was the damn whore-fucker Felixsen. He has found your car on the road to his house."
For some reason she didn't look much happier when she heard the information that Felixsen had found her stolen car.
I didn't call the police because they could be curious why the car was left locked and without any visible damage after the theft. Of course I had preferred to have Felixsen's road blocked for a much longer time with her car but hopefully he had already had some bad feelings about it. I asked Sarah if she knew where Felixsen lived but she noted the trap and responded negatively after a slight hesitation.
I called Felixsen with Sarah's cell phone but he suspected it was me calling and didn't reply with anything like, "Hello, Darling." However, he told me where to find him.
When we got there, Sarah told me that she would get out and take her car but I had no intentions of letting the love birds talk there and then, so I said to her, "No need for you to get out. Just take my car home. I have to talk with Felix and take some photos for the police of your car."
Felixsen told me he had not the slightest idea why the car thief had parked Sarah's car on his road. After pretending to examine the car for a while and taking some pictures I left in it. Sarah's cell phone rang ten seconds later and I replied, "Robin."
It was a surprised Felixsen who asked if I had called the police.
I said, "Yes, of course," but didn't do that before standing on my driveway.
The police swore at me for taking the car and destroying all clues they might found in it after the thief and therefore they closed the case.
The next morning my employees had a good laugh when they were told about the solution of Sarah and Felixsen's car problems last evening. Sarah wasn't very happy when we met at home after work. Obviously she had talked with Felixsen during the day. Both of them must have understood that her car moved to his road was caused by their affair.
At nine o'clock on the first Monday morning after Sarah's Lyrics Circle, Ronny went past Felixsen's clinic and saw his black Saab parked outside. Parked at the town square, he phoned the clinic and when Mrs. Felixsen replied, he just said, "Sorry, wrong number."
Now we were ready for action. Eric remained on the job so it didn't look totally abandoned if somebody came there. The three of us left in Ronny's silver colored V70 and left Emil at the crossroad to Felixsen's house where he hid in the forest as a sentinel.
Ronny and I hid the V70 on a small road at the opposite side of the main road and walked the 500 meters to Felixsen's house wearing a backpack with three 1.5 liter plastic Fanta bottles with pig-piss and some tools.
To our great pleasure he had no burglar alarm, so it was a piece of cake to get into the house without leaving any visible clues. Thanks to our thin neoprene gloves we could do all our work without leaving any fingerprints.
First we went to the master bedroom, found out which side of the expensive bed was his, lifted up the comforter and poured a liter of pig-piss from a large Fanta bottle on his bed and laid back the comforter.
We would have preferred to use our own pee but didn't dare to use that in case he called the police and they took DNA samples.
Then we found his well-supplied bar with expensive malt whiskies. On a table, next to a very comfortable chair, we found a decanter with whisky and two crystal glasses. We poured out the whisky in a plastic bucket from the kitchen and replaced it with pig-piss.
After that we had a hard time pouring out something from all the malt whisky bottles and replacing it with the equal quantity of pig-piss. That whisky operation took some time but we figured that Felixsen deserved a memorable punishment for fucking Sarah.
Our last action took place in his home office, where we found his laptop. Ronny had made a special cord, which led 220 volt (standard in Europe) into USB outlets and caused some smell of burnt plastic before it blew the fuse for his office. We didn't find any home-burned CD or DVD, only one USB memory in a drawer, which I took. Then we left his soon-to-be hopefully not so happy home.
Back at the job site we worked as usual and for the first time since I came to know who fucked my wife and crushed my marriage, I began to feel in a better mood. My employees did their best to cheer me up by talking about that asshole sitting in his comfortable chair drinking pig-pee from his crystal glass.
Ronny checked Felixsen's clinic even the next morning and he was there as usual but could hardly have slept in his pissed bed. Now he must understand that he was the target for some kind of well-planned action and hopefully he even feared that there would be more to come.
We could hardly think that he had called the police for his pissed bed and whisky. He knew that the police reported everything to the local newspaper and the sort of crime and identity of the victim would soon be known and make him a laughing stock in town. Therefore he was left sweating for a while but the next action was probably already planned.
Even I was sweating during my investigation of the USB memory stick we found in Felixsen's drawer. It contained pictures taken with a cell phone camera. Many of them were uninteresting for me but there were several pictures of Sarah. Some pictures of her stripping, some of her naked and some of her sucking a cock. One of the sucking pictures was very good; it showed lot of her naked body and she looked at the camera while sucking the cock. The best thing was the time and date, which said that the picture was taken during her Lyrics Circle evening. I burnt it on a CD, gave it to Ronny and asked him to send me a copy in an anonymous letter.
As expected Sarah had no Lyrics Circle meeting the next week and when I asked her why not, she told me that she intended to skip it for ever because it hadn't been as interesting as expected.
The next action had taken place when Felixsen was on his way home from a late board meeting at the local Football Club. According to what he had told his wife, she told the police and the local newspaper what happened to him. A hundred meters into the forest road, he had to stop his car for a plastic cone blocking the road with a sign saying "WARNING - ACCIDENT" and a flashing red light. Only a second after he had stopped, the car door was opened, and he was dragged out of the car by two men in black overalls and black ski masks. Out on the road he was severely beaten and had his right arm broken.
This time his wife called both police and ambulance, but the two policemen who visited him at the hospital the next morning had not gotten any useful information from a very frightened Felixsen and the local newspaper reported that it seemed to be "disagreements about sport gone too far."
To my surprise the police have not connected me with any questions about Felixsen and that wouldn't have been of any of help to them because I had spent that very evening at home with Sarah and her sister who had visited us to talk about their mom's birthday. However, assault on a road is a serious crime and if Mrs. Felixsen has told them about her husband's affair after I told her about it, I was sure to get a visit. But if she thought that he deserved the punishment she would probably keep quite and let the police keep the case in their high pile of "unsolved cases without any clues".
Sarah was in a highly visible bad mood during the few days after she had read about Felixsen's fate in the local morning newspaper. I didn't do anything about our relationship during these few days. But then I took a day off from the job to take care of some necessary matters in town. Sarah was surprised when she saw that I was at home, casually dressed, when she got home from her job at the school slight after three that afternoon.
I had already made coffee and asked her to sit down in the living room to talk about some matters. As soon as she was sitting down, I asked her, "I saw that there were two credit card bills missing in the ring binder. Why?"
"Because they are not correct and I have complained."
"Why haven't you told me about such a serious problem?"
"Because I expected to get it solved without any problems."
I took up copies of the two bills from my briefcase and gave them to her and said, "Could you please tell me what is wrong in them?"
Now she was blushing when she began to read the bills for a while before she replied, "There is something from an alcohol store, gas station and a hotel."
"But you never asked me if I had bought those things before you complained to the bank. You ought to know almost everybody at the bank. Can you remember to whom you complained?"
"No, and why in the hell this cross examination about these damn bills?"
"Because I want to know the truth. Please remember that there are cameras at the gas station and the hotel clerk may be able to recognize you."
"That's impossible because I've never been there. You ought to know that."
"I'm sorry, very sorry, Sarah, but I regret to say that I know for sure that you and Linus Felixsen even spent a couple of hours at that same hotel that evening I moved your car from the library parking area to block his road. May I presume that the two of you hardly had any lyrics reading there if you don't call that for lyrics?"
I gave her one of Felixsen's photos showing her sucking a cock and said, "I got this in an anonymous letter yesterday. Please see the date and time at the photo."
Now she was ashen gray and the only thing she said was, "Oh, my God! Oh, no."
I continued, "Therefore it is not difficult to guess that you bought an expensive malt whisky as a gift to that damn asshole's collection. Did you make him extra happy by telling him that I was paying half of that damn bottle?"
Now she was sobbing, "No, no, no, it is not what you think, no, no, no."
"No, it is much worse. The cruel truth is that the angry man who lost the 'chicken race' at the parking lot was bloody right. Today I know for sure that I am a damn cuckold."
Then I gave her the divorce papers and told her that I had put the house on sale and from now on she was expected to sleep in the spare bedroom until she found somewhere to move.
Sarah cried hysterically when I went into the kitchen and phoned Mrs. Felixsen. To my great pleasure, she still remembered me from the committee in school. But she wasn't very happy when I told her that only a few minutes earlier my wife had confessed her affair with Mr. Felixsen. She asked me what I intended to do about it and when she heard that my divorce was already filed and our house was for sale, she shouted "Damn it, I'll do the same."
Mrs. Felixsen even did something very unexpected. The next day she went to the school where Sarah worked and happened to get there when a number of teachers were gathered in the teachers' lounge. She asked for Sarah, went straight to her and gave Sarah's face a hard swing with her right open hand, shouting, "You cheap slut fucked my husband!"
Sarah also received a hard hit from Mrs. Felixsen's backhand on the other side of her face before her shocked fellow teachers saved her from further slaps by taking Mrs. Felixsen away from her.
Felixsen never opened his dental clinic again in our town. He sold it a couple of weeks after he was out of the hospital and left town. He and his wife sold their house and the ex-wife stayed in their house until the new owner moved in.
Sarah really worked hard trying to get me to forgive her cheating. She told me all the expected bullshit that I was her only love and the affair with Felixsen had only been for getting some excitement and even spiced up our love life. She promised to be the perfect faithful loving wife and mistress who never denied me any kind of sex.
Even our children did their best to get me to forgive Sarah, but I couldn't even think about it because her affair had been much more than a one-time fling and because what I saw her do for him in the pictures.
We sold our house and shared everything 50/50 before we parted. Both of us rented an apartment as the first step in our new lives.
I neither know for sure nor care a shit if it is true or not but the rumors say that Felixsen had loudly cursed the first day he met Sarah and refused to have anything to do with her after all the painful events which became his destiny due to their affair. Sarah had so much pride that she gave up after her first failed attempt to get a date with him after I had filed for divorce and she found out what many cheaters had before her: cheating might be an exciting game but seldom leads to anything of real value afterwards.
The divorce hit me hard, very hard indeed. My friends noted how bad I was feeling and had a long serious talk with me about my problems. They ended it with a simple advice that though Sarah was a lovely woman, she wasn't the only fish in the pond and I had to go fishing to see that it was the truth of the day.
Ronny, who was a kind of computer nerd, said, "New times, new habits. Today your fishing waters aren't limited to the local bar, not at all because, thanks to the web, you have the whole country, the whole of Scandinavia and if that's not enough, the whole EU and in the last end the whole world."
It was a challenge even for him and he helped me write an ad and send it to what he said was the most popular dating site. The ad was obviously well written because I got many replies and many good laughs after I phoned some of the women who had enclosed nice pictures and written their cell phone numbers in the reply mails.
The first one I called had many questions about my car and salary but almost none about myself. The second suggested a two-week trip to South Africa on my behalf because she wanted to see the wild animals there. The third confessed that the picture in her reply was of her younger sister because she hadn't any of herself but she promised that I would hardly note any real difference. Ronny's ad was very good for the quantity of replies but less good for finding somebody interested of a serious real relationship.
I had almost given up the web as a serious matter when I happened to read Linda's ad at the same site. It said that she was newly separated from a cheating husband and wanted to talk with somebody with equal experiences for helping each other to get over the pain. I wrote a long reply to her but hadn't much hope of hearing from her when she called me one evening. She was an easygoing woman and to my great pleasure living only 40 kilometers from me in the same town where Sarah and Felixsen had met at a hotel.
After several phone talks we decided to meet for a lunch in her hometown. It went very well and the next time we met at a café at the mall in the county capital. Linda came with her 17 year old daughter Jennifer and I came with my son Elliot who was living in that town as a student. Young people are more used to net dating and it was no sensation but maybe a little funny for them that their divorced parents did it and thereafter met in the real life. They greeted each other with, "Hi, sis" and "Hi, big brother."
Obviously the youngsters had a good first impression of each other and after some small talk Elliot agreed to get his girlfriend, who knew the best shops in town, with them and help Jennifer shop for some clothes. They went away and left Linda and me. Eventually we left for shopping and though I usually hated shopping, we had a pleasant time with much laughing until both of us had found what we wanted.
When the young people were back, Jennifer was very happy because Elliot's girlfriend Anna had helped her to find exactly what she had wanted. She told me that her mom liked me, so it would be okay if I became mom's boyfriend and Elliot said something equal to Linda.
Jennifer spent the next weekend with her father and Linda invited me to her house. I went there Friday evening with wine and flowers and Linda had cooked a nice dinner for us. After the romantic dinner we had some necking in her living room before we went to bed. I knew that it would be some kind of "moment of truth" because if I failed to be what she wanted me to be in the bed, it would be much more difficult to win her true love.
I choose to make it slow and tender loving instead of hard fucking and obviously I did the right thing because Linda had three intensive orgasms during that first night together. In the morning she told me that she was very happy she met me and she was in love with me. The night had been much better than expected even for me and as I already had warm feelings for her, I told her, "I love you, Linda."
Of course, if I'd been in the position to decide my future, my first choice would have been continuing a happy marriage with Sarah. But she cancelled all such possibilities and I still don't know why and how she began her affair with Felixsen. All I knew was how it ended. Who was the angry man who shouted "cuckold" to me at the parking lot? Please don't ask me because I've never seen him after that. My only guess is that he somehow knew Sarah.
Today Sarah has left our town for a teaching job in the county capital where she is living together with an accountant. I have never met him but Elliot says that mom's boyfriend seems to be okay both in his opinion and even Anna agreed with him.
Though we were in love, both Linda and I know that it will need a lot of compromising to create a good long lasting relationship and new marriage with two middle aged divorced people but we know that we can and will fix it. That's for sure.