Diary Of A Pissed-Off Wife

I’m sweet, lovable Tate to all who know me. Always nice, always proper. I thought I had it all, a great career, a great homelife, and a loving, doting husband. Now, that all that was shattered, I was reverting to my alter-ego, Tatiana, the wild, prurient woman I was before I got married and calmed down.


I had been the perfect wife and plaything. My greedy, selfish, ungrateful husband didn’t have a care in the world. He worked as a corporate attorney, came home to a house that was immaculate and a meal that was freshly prepared based on his favorite foods and special dietary needs. Even though I had a full time job myself. I worked out regularly to keep my body tight and flexible so that when sex time rolled around, I could move and flex into positions that most women could only dream about, unless they were gymnasts. My sex game was highest quality, with hours of perfected techniques to accommodate the unusually large width and length of my husband. Most women would be crying if he tried to do to them what he did to me.

So, how did he repay me? Fancy jewels? New cars? Furs and trips to the French Riviera? No, I caught him having sex with another woman. And not just any woman, no, no, no. This broken down tramp lived next door to us, and she had been eyeing Brad since the day we moved in. Shamelessly throwing herself at him by asking him to come over and do things for her like mow her lawn, or fix appliances, or trap wild animals. Anything to get him to come over there without me. I allowed him to do some things for her occasionally. But sexual favors? Uh, no.

This particular day I left work early for some me time, well it would have been used for Brad time. I went to the spa, got a body scrub and mineral bath, nails polished, hair coiffed, and makeup worthy of a photo-shoot. I stepped back onto the street looking like the Queen of Sheba, with the intention of going home and stripping down to nothing but my new bronze thong to wait for Brad. Turned out Brad had a little surprise in store for me too.

I sauntered in the house, with small tote bags in my hands filled with crèmes and oils to be tried out on Brad during our sex-a-rama. The house was quiet, except for a faint knocking sound coming from the basement. As far as I knew, Brad would be in court all day. I had several hours left before he would be getting in, so I decided to make a pitcher of margaritas to start relaxing my mind. Maybe I’d get my pussy ready with the new vibrator I bought. I removed my gold straps, took off my white jacket, and slid down the stairs to the kitchen.

While I was pulling out the blender, I kept hearing the annoying thumping noise. Had Brad left the dryer on? Maybe he put something heavy in there. That’s just how it sounded. Since I had to go down to the bar anyway and get a bottle of margarita mix, I decided to investigate the strange noise.

I crept cautiously down the stairs to the lower level, turning on only the first set of lights in the hallway leading down the first set of stairs. The washer and dryer were in a room towards the back of the rec room so the sound was still muffled, until I got a few feet away from the door. That’s when I heard it—not only the thumping , but the heavy breathing and the moaning, the moaning of a woman in heat, panting over trying to tame Brad’s mammoth dick.

“Ooooh Brad, damn I never thought you had it like this! Oh God, I should have gotten a piece of you sooner. You really know how to move your ass…yeah get it deeper in my pussy…”

“Just lean back and relax Lilly, relax so I can get it all in. You can take it all baby, you just have to know how to work it. Your shit is too tight for me…mmmm, let me get your legs up like this…”

I was speechless. Brad. Fucking this woman from next door. In my house. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. I couldn’t move, I felt myself turn to stone, standing there in the partial darkness, listening to the sounds of their primal grunting and groaning and Brad’s skin slapping against her skin. It was like slowing down for a car crash. You just had to get one look, and I did.

I eased around the corner, sliding a portion of my body close enough to the doorway so I could see them. And see I did. Lilly had her legs spread wider than a cruise ship, with the help of Brad holding them apart, as he rammed up in her with smooth, even strokes. Lilly’s head was hitting the basket behind her, which was hitting the wall. Both of them had their naked asses on my laundry folding table. Lucky it was bolted down.

Suddenly I got angry, feeling the temperature in my body rise to the core temperature of Mercury. My blood boiled, and I wanted both of them dead, but Brad had to go first. How dare he pump my dick, The Big Boy, up into this actress-wannabe-has-been-bitch!

I stormed through the door, startling their flight towards climax. Lilly saw me first, freezing a grimace on her narrow face, then tapping Brad on the shoulder and pointing, just before I unleashed my fury.

“Just what the fuck is going on in here? Oh no, don’t stop on my account!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

In the same instance, Lilly pushed Brad off her, and Brad spun around, uncoupling the bond he had formed with the slut. I moved towards them rapidly, and I think Lilly was screaming, trying to jump down. She had no worries, because my first target would be Brad. I grabbed at his hair, but he managed to grab me first, while Lilly ran out, grabbing clothes as she bolted for the exit. I squirmed against Brad, finally getting free by jabbing him in the side with my elbow.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you, you dog!” I spun around so I could punch him, but he grabbed me again.

“Tate, baby, please, you need to calm down! I know it looks bad baby, but I’m sorry, I’m never meant…”

“Oh don’t even fucking say it Brad! Don’t tell me how this was some misguided mistake!”

I stomped on his foot, leaving him limping, as I sprinted for the stairs, making a beeline for the bedroom. I ran to my closet and grabbed my large overnight bag, and started ripping clothes down and throwing them in the bag. I was attacking my chest of drawers when Brad finally drug himself to the room, half dressed, trying to stop me. I pushed him, not knowing my own strength in anger, nearly knocking him to the floor.

“Tate, where do you think you’re going? We need to talk about this, you can’t just walk away from this, from me!”

I let my hand scratching across Brad’s face be my answer to his query, then I resumed throwing things in my bag. I hastily pulled the halves of the bag together, zipping the contents inside. Brad stood next to me, trying to block my movement.

“Move Brad, move before I do something to you. “

“No Tate, I’m not letting you leave in a frenzy like this. We need to talk.”

He tried to calm me, but I wasn’t having it. I was choking, I couldn’t bear to hear the sound of his lying, cheating voice. I felt dizzy, and I needed to get out of the house, out of his presence. I was suffocating, I felt the life being snatched from my lungs. I grabbed my bag, grabbed my car keys, and lunged towards him with my entire body, literally knocking him out of my path.

“Move Brad, fuck you! I’m out of here. Go back and finish your little fuck session with your whore!”

Brad was right on my heels, as I stalked down the stairs, dashing towards the front door and freedom. He yelled something at me, but I didn’t hear him, rather, I could no longer understand him. I tuned him out, threw my bag in the car, locked myself in, and sped down the street, with no destination in mind. I just needed to drive.

Hours later, I found myself downtown at the Marriott. I had been driving around, thinking, crying, cursing. I pulled into the parking garage and decided this was where I would stay until I could figure out what I would do. My phone was still vibrating with calls from Brad. Poor baby. He wouldn’t be talking to me anytime soon. I collected myself, trying to regroup, wiped my eyes and headed for the main desk.

I was oblivious to everything around me, the people, the décor of the lobby, even the clerks at the desk, as I requested my room and paid. I was checked out to everything except what was going on in my head, until one of the bellboys strolled past me. Even in my weakened mental state, I caught sight of him, and his electric smile at me. I figured he was there to make a quick tip, offering to take my bag. Normally I would have growled that I’d carry my own bag, but his attention was just what I needed at the moment. He was tall, cute, with deep olive brown skin, and even under the heavy uniform, I could see the well developed form of his body. Hmmm, wonder what this gift from the gods looked like with no clothes on.

“May I take your bag Ma’am?” That smile was quickly making me forget why I was even there. I decided to flirt.

“Sure, why not?”

I showed him my key card.

“Right this way, Ma’am!”

I followed him to the elevators, walking just slightly behind him, so I could check out the view from the rear. Nice, very nice. He made chit chat while we were in the elevator. I almost didn’t hear him speak, because I was too consumed with the scent of his cologne and the way his perfect body was towering over me, taunting me with how he could scoop me up and take me for a ride.

“Are you here on business? Going to be in town long?”

I snapped back to attention. Hell, what would be my back story? Of course I couldn’t say I just left my husband after finding him with his dick shoved up in a slut. Think Tate. Fast.

“Oh, I live here. I’m having some work done at my house, and I needed to get out of there until they get things under control. Just for a few days or so.” Good, easy lie.

He turned to face me, leaning in a little closer. “Oh, you live here, in Chicago?”

“No, Plainfield. I figured I’d stay down here since I work close by.”

“Well, you’ll enjoy your stay here. You can order room service until 3 in the morning, the room is huge, and you’ll have all the comforts of home.”

Yeah, home. I hope I didn’t have a few things. The bell rang and the door opened to the fifteenth floor. I let my handsome guide lead the way. Alfonso was on his name tag.

Once inside my room, Alfonso walked around, showing me where everything was, as he placed my bag on a small cot. He checked the air temperature, checked the bathroom, and made sure I knew to call him if I needed anything, anything at all. He definitely made the final statement sound like an invitation. And I would gladly take him up on it, the way I was feeling.

“Well Alfonso, you working all night?” I asked, darting my eyes up at his, smiling.

“No ma’am. I get off at midnight.” He stood right next to me, leaning over me again, like he was trying to get a whiff of me. I wanted to grab him and settle my lips against his, but I held my composure, and continued with my flirting.

“Well, if I require anything, I sure will call you. Alfonso, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And can you stop calling me ma’am? You’re making me feel old. I‘m only thirty-five!”

He grinned even broader. “You don’t look old, and you sure don’t look thirty-five!”

I smiled. He knew just what to say. “Well, flattery will get you everywhere, Alfonso. But really, call me Tat--Tatiana.” No more goody-good Tate. I was back to Tatiana, and I licked my lips in approval of Alfonso.

He took my hand, and in a surprise move, he kissed it, watching for my reaction. I was stunned nearly speechless.

“Well, Miss Tatiana, you have a pleasant evening, and call me if you need anything at all.”

He turned to walk out, looking triumphant. I remembered that I hadn’t tipped him.

“Oh wait Alfonso, your tip, let me—“

“No, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Tatiana.” He winked at me, and disappeared behind the door. I floated over to lock it behind him. He was just what I needed to get my mind off Brad. And his floosy.

I plopped down on the bed, letting my mind undress Alfonso and relax, conjuring images of what it would feel like to have him hovering over me with those sexy eyes and tight body of his. I felt strangely guilty, thinking about fucking this handsome man, whom I knew nothing about, when I had a husband at home. I ignored the guilt, reminding myself that Brad had put me in this position. So now, after nine years of marriage, I had an open door to other men. Maybe I shouldn’t do it, but I was going to do it. And I was going to have fun. Who knew how many sluts he was dicking down? No more Mrs. Goody Two-Puss. I was going for mine.

I dozed off to sleep with my nipples hard and my pleasure center burning with desire to have Alfonso’s large, rugged hands on my body, teasing me, sliding his fingers up inside me getting me wet, tickling my neck with his tongue. Yes, I was long overdue, and it was payday.

Next: Room Service