When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I hoped it was a text from Cindy. Instead, it was an unread message on the MasterBettor app. As soon as I opened it, my soul left my body. I was looking at a close-up picture of Cindy’s face.
I recognized the image. It was my wife’s profile picture on her practice group website. The longer I stared at it, the colder I became. It felt as though the bitter winds of death were blowing right through my chest. There was a large black rectangle obscuring my wife’s eyes. The casual viewer might not recognize Cindy as the woman in the photo, but I knew. I knew. Above my wife’s face, a bold banner headline read: “New Talent Debuting Tonight! She’s Zesty, She’s Breasty, She’s… Chesty Rosen! Will Chesty Cheat on Her Husband in a Public Parking Lot? Put Your Money Where Her Mouth Is! Whip Out Your Wallet and MasterBet Now!”
Bridget double crossed me, the fucking bitch. She said she would erase every video if Rocco fell even one challenge card short of forty. But clearly she never intended to honor her end of the bet because Cindy’s face was on the website right now, advertising one of those fucking videos. My wife’s secret was out. A star had been born.
My heart quailed and my shoulders sagged.
I didn’t mean to tap the screen, but as soon as I did, a breathtaking menu of betting options appeared on my phone. It was a degenerate’s paradise. I was staring into the abyss, captivated by all the flashing lights and popping colors as I doomscrolled into a bottomless pit of parlays, spreads, teasers and prop bets. My eyes went as glassy as my wife’s while wager offers lit up the screen one after another.
I needed to find my wife, but my phone had me hypnotized. “How many cocks will Chesty suck? How many cocks will Chesty fuck? How many holes will Chesty get fucked in?”
Fucking hell! The over / under for cocks sucked was 1.5! I’m no sharp, not by a longshot, but I know enough to know that the oddsmakers assumed “Chesty” was giving a blowjob tonight; the question was how many. And in how many holes would Chesty get fucked? The over / under was 2.5. Good Lord. “Take the over.” Rocco’s voice echoed in my head. An intense dread grabbed me by the ankles and clawed its way up my body.
I had to find Cindy — now! I ran inside the rink, thinking that she might be back in the locker room. It would be fitting, I thought grimly, for my loving wife to be in the lost and found. When I got there, however, the room was dark and empty. I searched all the locker rooms and offices, but she wasn’t there. The rink was empty. Everyone was outside.
Back in the parking lot, darkness had descended. The carnival atmosphere now felt foreboding and chaotic. The music from the DJ was too loud, particularly against the ruckus of overstimulated children. Head throbbing, I walked around the corner of the building, away from the crowd. Just then, I heard a low voice from somewhere behind me.
“Holy shit.”
Turning around, my eyes carefully scanned the area in front me, straining to see. Hesitantly, I stepped forward into the darkness, searching for the source of the voice.
Was Cindy out here?
More shuffling noises. This time I could pinpoint them coming from behind a garage where they park the Zamboni.
My breath caught in my throat and my ears grew exquisitely sensitive to the sounds of my own footsteps as I tiptoed slowly along the side of the garage, disappearing into a secluded area untouched by the parking lot lights. Stopping by the corner, I leaned around and looked into the space between the back of the garage and the fence belonging to a house behind the ice rink.
A string of lights in the backyard illuminated the odd silhouette of what appeared to be two figures pressed together in the shadows. I squinted, trying to decipher what I was looking at. One of them appeared to be kneeling on the ground while the other leaned against the fence. Slowly, my eyes began adjusting to the dark, and I finally noticed the person kneeling on the ground is a woman — a woman with a generous set of tits. Her head moved back and forth in a fluid rhythm while she made soft, wet slurping noises.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” the guy grunted contentedly.
The woman moaned in response as she continued sucking him. My heart skipped a beat. I was still unable to see more than a shadow play, but hearing them confirmed I had found who I was looking for. I stayed at the corner of the garage, hidden in the darkness. Shame washed over me. The evening air felt cool against my skin.
“Goddamn, Chesty, you suck so good,” Rocco said in a husky voice. “You needed my dick back in your mouth, didn’t you?”
My wife pulled off Rocco’s cock and looked up at him. “Yes, I needed it. Your dick is so big!” she said loudly. I winced. No doubt the whiskey had her thinking that was a whisper.
“You bet your fine ass it is!” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
Cindy took Rocco back into her mouth and resumed sucking him. She sighed contentedly as he spread his legs further apart, giving her better access. His cock is so thick that I don’t know how she gets it into her throat without unhinging her jaw. Their silhouette made it look like he was feeding her a baguette the long way. Staring into the shadows, I strained to watch as my wife slobbered on his cock with the same lips that were kissing our son just a few hours ago. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see that Rocco was standing in front of my kneeling wife the same way he stood in front of the urinal.
Cindy’s head moved back and forth in smooth, rapid motions. Her enthusiasm was evident as she moaned on his cock with her plump lips, then kissed and slurped along on his shaft. I saw a gleam from the diamond engagement ring on her left hand as she gripped his hairy thigh while her right pushed up his shirt and roamed his furry chest. Rocco was wearing the body cam necklace, but Cindy was too busy to notice that.
“Madonne,” Rocco let out in a ragged voice. “That’s my good little girl.”
His hips gave a few thrusts, meeting my wife’s mouth as she bobbed her pretty blonde head up and down his enormous pole. “Those lips are perfect for my cock.” She could only groan in response, her mouth full of his meat. Her neck bulged out gaudily in the face of the onslaught. Her cheeks were a blotchy scarlet; her eyes streamed; rivers of spit oozed out of the corners of her mouth, blobbing down over her chin and onto her tits.
As Cindy brought a dainty little hand up to stroke his obscenely large hog, Rocco reached down and grabbed it, prying her fingers loose and clenching them in his big hairy mitt. “Take those off and give ’em to me,” he said with disgust.
The night seemed to get darker. The air was heavy with tension as Cindy glared up at Rocco for a long time from her knees before huffing and then unscrewing her engagement ring and then her wedding band from her finger and dropping them both into his outstretched hand.
“That’s better,” he said. “When you’re with me, you’re my woman. Now put my dick back in your mouth. Show me what you’re good for.” It was a command, not a request and Cindy complied without hesitation. She looked up at him with her mouth crammed full of cock, begging for approval with those big, blue puppy-dog eyes. “Are you my cheating whore?” he asked.