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A widowed man meets up with his widowed high school teacher.
I checked the counter and noted that there was 2 hours of tape used. I was sure that it would be very interesting. I couldn't wait till I could listen to it.
After dinner, I told Serena that I was working on some things downstairs and would only be about an hour. She just nodded since I usually spent very little time there anyway. She was just setting down for her usual evening knitting.
I listened to the tape and was rewarded with an hour of them fucking each other and her doing some things that I considered to be low key but he apparently enjoyed it. It seemed that Bill was as unimaginative as he was stupid. I listened to the first part closely and then let the rest of it go as more of the same. What I heard was actually rather dull:
"Serena, get in here. God, I've been thinking of you all week. Hurry up and get your clothes off. I want to fuck you right now. I'm so hot I'm about to bust!"
"Give me a minute Bill. Jesus! What's gotten into you? Just because we have to hurry, I would think that would suit you just fine. You always want to get to it with no foreplay. I feel like a piece of meat; just a quick fuck for you."
"Serena, you know that's not true. You're just so sexy that I can't keep myself from wanting to take you hard and not wait for romance. I just want to put my cock into that sweet pussy of yours and dump my load. I know you love it when I talk that way to you so you can't pretend you don't like it."
"No, I do love it when you talk to me like I'm a slut. Come on and put it in me, right now. I want you to fuck me hard and fast. Treat me like your whore. This is going to be the last time. I mean it; so make it good."
For the next few minutes, all I could hear was some grunting and groaning and the bed squeaking as they went at it. I listened as my heart grew heavier and I listened to the sound of my marriage going down the drain. I could never forgive this from either of them.
The tape continued for another hour and a half as they continued in the same vein. I couldn't understand what Serena was getting out of this. Our sex life was far more interesting than what I heard that day. At times she actually sounded like she didn't even want to be there with Bill. I shut off the recorder and rewound the tape. To be safe, I duped it and kept one copy in my safe downstairs and the other copy in my briefcase. I thought I would extract some excerpts from some of the phone calls and that meeting and make a demonstration tape for later.
I went back upstairs and tried to go on with the evening as usual. I felt pain just being in the same room with her. I looked at Serena several times but she looked perfectly normal. I guess she was now so used to cheating on me that she felt nothing when we were together.
There was one surprising thing that happened just three days before the party. As I listened to the tapes that evening as usual, I heard the sound of the doorbell ring. Bill came to the house but I only heard some of the conversation since Serena kept him at the door.
She was yelling at him and kept saying, "No, not here. Not in my home! Never! Anyway, I told you we were through!"
This continued for a few minutes and I finally heard the sound of the door slamming and Serena storming back into the house, cursing out loud. Sounded like Bill was wanting more and more and Serena didn't agree.
During those weeks, I maintained my silence to Serena. I spoke only when I had to and tried to avoid any time alone with her. She finally noticed my reticence and commented on it a week before the party.
"You haven't said much to me lately. Is something bothering you? Did I do something wrong that made you mad at me?"
"I don't know. Have you done something that would make me mad?" I wanted to avoid any direct confrontation until next week but why not a little push?
Serena had the good grace to blush before striking back, "Of course not! Why would you think that?" She was trying for anger but it came off as desperation.
"I told you some time ago that we had some problems, but