Flood Gates (Pt. 1)

It started innocently enough.  All I wanted was to get my ex-wife, Delores, off my mind.  It had been a couple weeks since I caught her cheating on me.

I had taken a trip with my younger sister and was just getting home.  I don’t know if my wife was jealous of my sister or what but she seemed a little put out and frustrated that I’d go away for a week on vacation without her. If it bothered her nothing was ever said.  Maybe it was the fact that I’d been going to play cards with some people from work for the past few months.  I don’t know.  I always tried to let her know I loved her.  I took her out often enough.  Spent quiet, quality time with her when I thought she was in need.  I’ve gone over it again and again but can’t pin any one thing down that would justify my coming home to find her in the middle of a gangbang in our own living room.

Delores didn’t hear me when I first walked in the house.  No one did.  There was a lot of fucking going on and the stereo was turned up really loud.  Some death metal shit.  Some man grunting angry words over fuzzy sounding guitars.  As if there weren’t enough angry, grunting men in the room.

They were all crowded around her on the couch.  She was straddling one man while another fucked her from behind – I assume in her ass – while a couple more were standing on the couch with their cocks in her face.  Then I noticed some more men laying on the floor watching TV.  They were limp and sleepy as if they had already had their turn with her.  I guess that explains why her face was already dripping wet.  To make it worse, the men on the floor were the guys from work I usually played cards with.  God DAMMIT!

I turned and walked back out the door not knowing if I’d been seen and not caring.  How could she do this?  She was obviously into it so they couldn’t have drugged her or done anything against her will.  I found the closest and cheapest motel in town and decided to sleep on this before making any rash decisions.

That night I dreamt things that I didn’t even know could possibly be in my head.  Things that were so different from the person I am day to day and so…taboo – even in our progressive society today – that I felt guilty for even dreaming them.  The more I lay there the following morning thinking about it the more I realized that, maybe, I had some unresolved issues.  There were obviously some fantasies deep in my mind that I had oppressed and needed to get out.  When I remembered the reason I was at this motel – my cheating, slutty, gangbanged wife – I didn’t feel anger at her anymore.  I felt a sort of relief.  This was a reason to leave.  This was an excuse to go out and find my self.  My wife’s gangbang affair was my freedom.