Evidently...

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*.*.*

Kurt left Hunter's Cabin, embarrassed at the large wet spot on the front of his work trousers. Hunter Davis, the proprietor of Hunter's cabin had shown Kurt a pornographic video that one of his dancers had made for the club. Even though much of the dancer's flesh wasn't visible; the dancer was obscured by black light, the dancer had performed oral sex on a massive dildo. That much was visible as Kurt watched the video in open-mouthed astonishment.

Hunter's Cabin was a Gentlemen's Club that served some of the best pulled pork and brisket barbeque sandwiches in Myndee, Arkansas. Monday through Thursday, Kurt delivered sixty plain jumbo sized hamburger buns. On Friday, they ordered and received one hundred and eight buns; Spuntzin's Bakery didn't deliver on Saturdays.

"My goodness," Kurt sighed as he got into his Spuntzin's Bakery truck.

He would love to buy his Hunter's License, come in after finishing his deliveries for Spuntzin Bakery. He would love to sit and enjoy a pulled pork sandwich served on a Spuntzin bun, enjoy an ice cold Gratchley's beer and ogle the nude flesh on display. But Donna, Kurt's wife of nine years would never allow Kurt to 'waste' their money like that.

"Uh huh, but that gym membership; when's last time your fat ass been in Veronica's?" Kurt muttered.

Kurt's paychecks went to their mortgage, their automobile payments, insurance. Donna's paychecks went to utilities, groceries, other incidentals and essentials. And, it seemed, whatever Kurt wanted, wasn't essential. Such as a Hunter's License, a membership to the Gentlemen's Club.

Kurt and Donna had met at one of Chad-O's backyard parties. Chad Susskins liked young pussy and his parties usually had a gaggle of high school cuties frolicking about in skimpy bikinis. So when a very drunk Donna Meyers staggered up to the twenty seven year old Kurt Schnauder, the very first thing Kurt did was determine that Donna was eighteen years old. The second thing he did was wait until she was sober enough to consent. She was sober enough and did consent the very next evening and enthusiastically rode Kurt's cock while Kurt mauled her 34D breasts.

They continued to date; Donna's dad Bob Meyers boisterously objected to his eighteen year old daughter running around with a twenty seven year old man. Her father's disapproval just made Donna all the more eager to continue fucking Kurt Schnauder.

"I'm fucking knocked up, you God damned ass hole," Donna tearfully declared two months after they'd begun dating.

Two weeks after their hurried wedding, Donna tearfully confessed she'd lost the baby. At that moment, Kurt had briefly considered having their marriage annulled, then decided, pregnant or not, he had promised to love, honor and cherish Donna Francine Meyers. And, through her tears, Donna did promise they would have many children.

So he stayed. He also encouraged Donna to further her education. Opportunities for a high school graduate weren't plentiful.

Samuel Connor Community College in Gratchley's Arkansas had curriculums for students to earn Associate's Degrees in various studies. Should the student so desire, their credits from SC Community College could be transferred to Myndee University for a four year, or Bachelor's Degree. Donna opted to attend SC Community College and get an Associate's Degree in Accounting. Bob's feelings toward his son in law had mellowed somewhat, especially since Kurt was the one paying for Donna to go to college.

Clarkston County hired the attractive twenty year old Donna Schnauder to work in the county government budget office. The pay was slightly less than she would have made in a private practice, but the benefits were tremendous.

"And I get off for Martin Luther King's birthday, oh, and President's Day and..." Donna crowed as she showed Kurt the employment packet.

"Uh huh, and can use those days to maybe clean up a bit?" Kurt asked, half-joking.

"What? Apartment's not dirty," Donna said.

"Donna, other day, I saw a dust bunny chasing a mouse," Kurt said.

"Then you clean it," Donna snapped. "You're the one gets home at two o'clock."

"I'm the one leaves at four thirty," Kurt responded. "Quit acting like you the only one working around here."

Benefits or not, Donna was incensed to find out she would be dropped from Kurt's insurance and would have to get her own. Even Kurt pointing out that, because of certain policies enacted through the Affordable Health Care Act, if she had the option to obtain private health care but did not, then there would be a hefty penalty assessed against her when it came time to file Federal Taxes did not curb Donna's bitterness. It took Melinda Meyers, Donna's mother to diffuse that situation. Kurt bit his tongue; her mother simply repeated Kurt's words. But somehow, hearing it from her mother made the truth more palatable to Donna.

Kurt said nothing, but did rankle at his wife's refusal to listen to logic, unless it was one of her parents that pointed the logic out to her. He shook his head; in many ways, his wife was still attached to the umbilical cord. Marriage should have severed the ties, but apparently it had not fully cut the connection.

After his stop at Hunter's Cabin, Kurt went on to his next stop. The client pointed out the dark splotch on Kurt's crotch and Kurt said he'd spilled some coffee on himself. He was sure his hot blush told that store's manager a different story, but the woman didn't say anything.

Kurt finished that day's deliveries and returned to Spuntzin's Bakery. Parking his truck, Kurt went into the office with all of his signed invoices. Matt, Ronnie Spuntzin's son smiled and greeted Kurt.

Ronnie Spuntzin had hired Kurt to clean up the offices and the bakery itself when Kurt was seventeen years old. As soon as Kurt graduated from high school, Ronnie hired Kurt on as a full-time employee. After Ronnie's short battle with cancer, Matt relied heavily on Kurt's assistance in learning the ropes of running a successful business.

"Next week? We're adding the Valentine's Day doughnuts," Matt reminded Kurt as Kurt completed filling out his projected deliveries for the following day.

"I'll let Setters and Schiff know. Cherry and chocolate again?" Kurt asked.

"Yes sir! With the pink icing," Matt agreed.

Pulling up to his home, Kurt saw Nadia Nichols, their tenant lugging her laundry bag up the flight of metal stairs next to their garage. The short girl had waist length brown hair, soulful brown eyes, a chunky butt perched on top of stocky legs. Her button nose and small mouth just added to her cute face. Her pregnancy was beginning to show; her belly stuck out past her adorable cupcake sized titties in the snug sweaters she wore. Kurt developed an embarrassing erection whenever he saw her.

"Hey Nadia, how's it going?" Kurt called out.

Nadia had a breathy little girl voice. Kurt listened as Nadia complained about the laundry-mat five blocks away and silently cursed Donna for not letting their tenant use their washing machine and dryer. He also silently tried to mentally will his erection down as both Nadia's voice and her pregnancy fueled his lustful imagination.

"Listen, uh, Valentine's Day is this Sunday; Ms. Donna and me? We'll actually be going out and celebrating on Saturday; you got any idea how many places ain't open on Sundays?" Kurt said.

"Mr. Kurt, it's freezing out here and I'm 'bout pee on myself," Nadia cut into his monologue.

"Huh? Oh! Sorry; yeah, when I get going," Kurt agreed. Anyway, I need a place to hide her stuff; Donna will tear the house apart looking for it. Can I hide it in your apartment?

"Oh, absolutely," Nadia agreed then scampered into her apartment.

"God damn, would just love to tear..." Kurt mumbled, walking back down the stairs.

Nadia worked at one of the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store on Kurt's route. Bobby Setters, the general manager had been the one to approach Kurt about his garage apartment.

Looking at the cute eighteen year old girl, Kurt agreed that the apartment was available. Hearing the girl's story, Kurt decided he'd not charge her the security deposit.

According to Bobby, Nadia had grown up in a succession of foster homes and the various apartments and rusted trailers that her meth-addicted mother bounced around in. Myndee University offered the girl a 'Hardship' scholarship and she moved from DeGarde, Louisiana to Myndee, Arkansas.

Overwhelmed and isolated, the naïve girl had struggled mightily to overcome years of conditioning to fail, to no avail. This situation coupled with her upbringing made the four foot eleven inch cutie susceptible to the false words of Jason James Ulbrithe. She eagerly spread her chubby thighs for her new boyfriend and screamed out as he tore her hymen with one brutal thrust.

"Thanks for the piece of ass, bitch," Jason laughed, wiping his sticky cock with her frayed gray-white panties. "See ya!"

Disillusioned, Nadia dropped out of college. A kindly pastor gave Nadia a hot shower, a filling meal, and a bed to sleep in. One of the volunteers of Reverend Dimbel put Nadia in touch with Bobby Setters, getting her the job at the grocery store. Then Reverend Dimbel gently informed Nadia that he needed the bed for another wretched soul; she needed to move on.

Friday, February 12th, Nadia smiled as she opened the door for Kurt Schnauder. Kurt felt his cock stiffen at the sight of her 'lounging' outfit of snug tee shirt and gray flannel shorts. The tee shirt advertised 92.9 K.I.T.N., a local radio station. The material was thin and Kurt could see the dark shadows of Nadia's half-dollar sized areolae through the tee shirt. Her slight paunch was visible; the hem of the tee shirt rolled up over her pregnant belly. He saw Nadia's nipples constrict and harden when the chilly air hit her.

When Nadia turned to give him room to enter her apartment, Kurt saw the bottom halves of her full buttocks peeking from the bottom of her shorts. Kurt was glad his hands were full; he didn't know if he'd be able to resist squeezing and fondling those delectable hillocks of flesh.

"You working when tomorrow?" Kurt asked as he put the heavy leaded crystal vase with the nine red roses and one white rose onto her small table.

"Saturday? Mm, Six thirty 'til, I get out there at three thirty. Same like today," Nadia said.

"I like your hair like that," Kurt said, indicating her ponytail.

"Thanks; it needs washing bad," Nadia confessed. "Probably do it tomorrow night."

"Well, it's cute like that," Kurt said, placing the large box of chocolates and the large card onto the table next to the flowers.

"Why you got, mm, nine red and one white rose?" Nadia asked.

"That's the nine years we been married," Kurt explained. "The white one's for the years to come."

"Aw, I wish..." Nadia said, then clammed up.

"Kurt placed the jewelry box on top of the chocolates and looked at the cute girl. He saw moisture forming in the corners of her big brown eyes. Before he could ask about the impending tears, she abruptly turned and entered the bathroom. The door slammed shut and Kurt sighed then left the apartment.

The next morning, Donna woke Kurt by gripping his morning erection. When he was awake, she rolled a condom onto his cock then rolled onto her back and spread her legs. After Kurt had spurted into his condom, Donna wiggled out of bed and pulled on her robe.

A moment later, Kurt could smell the bacon sizzling and smiled. Donna was making her breakfast specialty; French toast sandwiches.

Kurt had brought home a loaf of Spuntzin's Bakery Original Recipe. The white bread was sliced thick, just as the original loaves had been sliced.

(Ronnie Spuntzin had set the slicer to make thicker slices so people would use up their loaf of bread quicker and need to buy more bread. The ploy worked very well; many customers preferred the thicker slices to the other breads available on the grocer's shelves.)

Donna used three jumbo eggs and whisked in a half teaspoon of vanilla extract, a half teaspoon of cinnamon and a heaping tablespoon of brown sugar along with one quarter cup of half and half.

Donna would dredge four slices of the thick bread through this egg custard then fried them on both sides until golden. Then a dollop of maple syrup went on one piece of bread and was topped with four pieces of bacon, a sunny side up fried egg went on top of the bacon, then the second piece of French toast completed the sandwich.

When he could smell Donna's far too weak coffee, Kurt pulled on his boxers and his robe. A moment later Donna called up the stairs that breakfast was ready.

After eating the unhealthy, cholesterol and sugar laden meal, Kurt cleaned up the kitchen. Donna was less than meticulous in her cleaning and Kurt did not want cockroaches invading his mother's home. Finishing the task, Kurt turned and saw Donna waiting expectantly for her Valentine's Day gifts or gifts. With a smile, he told her he'd be right back and trotted up the stairs to their bedroom.

Kurt slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and reached for his keys. The keys were not in the small ceramic dish he normally kept them in. He had made that dish for his mother at a summer camp when he was eight years old.

Entering their bathroom, Kurt opened the hamper and ground his teeth in frustration. He saw a damp towel on top of their clothes. Donna knew he hated when she put wet towels into the hamper with their clothes. It would be fine if she washed their clothes on a regular basis, but she did not. She usually waited until the clothes were spilling out before she washed a load of clothes.

Moving aside the skirt Donna had worn to work on Friday, Kurt found his work khakis. And, pulling the trousers from the hamper, a pair of bright red thongs fell out of the hamper and onto the floor.

The crotch of the intimate apparel was crusty. Kurt picked them up and studied the panties carefully. He knew he had never seen these panties before; Donna always screamed insults at Kurt whenever he mentioned he'd like to see her in a pair of thongs. Even if her buttocks were a little larger than they'd been when they'd met, he still liked Donna's ass.

And, since Donna insisted that Kurt wear condoms because she wasn't ready to become a Mommy, her panties, thong or not, should not be crusty with dried semen. Absently, Kurt emptied the pockets of his work trousers and put the khakis into the hamper again.

"Well?" Donna asked, smiling in anticipation when Kurt came into the kitchen.

In answer, Kurt tossed the panties onto the table in front of her. Donna looked down at the skimpy panties and curled her lip in disgust.

"I will not wear..." Donna began to shrill.

"Found those in the hamper," Kurt snapped. "So, apparently, yeah, you WILL wear those. Just not for me."

"I want a divorce," Donna immediately demanded.

"You got it," Kurt said. "Start packing; you're not spending one more minute in this house."

Kurt could tell that this was not the response Donna had anticipated. The shock in her eyes, the open-mouthed stare told him Donna had expected Kurt to beg, Kurt to immediately apologize.

"Well? Get busy, Donna," Kurt demanded and stepped into his office.

"I, I, it's uh..." Donna stammered.

"Oh, and give those here; evidence of adultery," Kurt said, returning and grabbing the panties from the table.

"Those are mine; give those here," Donna screamed, grabbing for the panties.

"Hmm; wonder...whose credit card paid for these?" Kurt asked rhetorically, closing the office door behind himself. "Get busy, Donna. You don't have all day."

Kurt sat at the desk and turned on his computer. He absently ran a hand over the polished top of the desk. His mother had bought this desk at a garage sale, had stripped off four or five coats of paint to expose the beautiful oak wood underneath. She had applied a heavy coat of varnish, then had hand polished the wood until it gleamed.

"There we go," Maisy Schnauder had smiled when she set it up in the den of the home. "A big boy school desk for my big school boy."

Thirty years later, Kurt smiled as he ran his hand over the smooth desktop. Then he clicked the icon and went onto the Internet. Logging onto the credit card account, Kurt saw some charges to the Home Comfort Inn on their joint credit card. He also saw some charges from Vokine's and figured the satin panties and matching bra had come from Vokine's, an expensive clothing boutique in Myndee.

"Good God; sixty four; there's not enough material cost sixty four seventy three," Kurt muttered.

Checking their other joint credit cards, Kurt saw more charges that he knew he had not made. He quickly printed out the last three months of charges; the on-line service would not allow him to go back any further in his search.

Kurt did not hear movement overhead. Opening the door, he saw that Donna had not moved from the kitchen table.

"Donna, I'm not kidding; you're not staying here," Kurt said tersely. "You got one hour. Make sure you get all your work clothes too. Anything else? We'll let the lawyers figure it out."

"I'm not going anywhere; this is just as much my house as yours," Donna sneered.

"No. Wrong! This is not your house. This is not even my house. This is my mother's house and I'm sure my mother don't want a lying, cheating cunt living in her house," Kurt laughed. "One hour, Donna, time starts now."

"But, where, where'm I supposed go?" Donna whined.

"Hey, give your fuck buddy a call; see if he wants your fat ass," Kurt laughed mirthlessly.

"Fat? My ass, have you seen yours lately?" Donna screeched.

"Tick, tick, tick, time's running out, Donna," Kurt reminded her and closed the door of the office again.

Donna did hurry upstairs and began stomping back and forth. Kurt checked their bank account and pursed his lips tightly. There wasn't much money in the account; certainly not enough to pay off all of the credit cards. He selected three of the five cards and paid them off, then cancelled them. The other two, he reported as lost or stolen and requested new cards be sent to the house. Kurt did not know if Donna had any other credit cards. If she did, he supposed he'd find out about them when the bills came due.

An hour and twenty minutes after discovering proof of his wife's infidelity, Kurt was finally alone in his home. Steeling himself, Kurt called Donna's father. Though his dislike and distrust of Kurt had thawed somewhat over the years, Bob had never fully warmed up to his 'baby girl's' husband.

"Hi Bob," Kurt said cheerfully. "Hey, listen, just wanted to let you know, just tossed your slut daughter out of the house. Yeah, found out she's been screwing around on me. Well, got to go. Have a great day."

Kurt turned off his phone and then allowed the tears to begin. He had tried. God knows he had tried to be a good and loving husband to the immature, selfish girl. He had stayed with her when she'd lost their baby. He had put her through school. Why had she done this, why had she cheated on him?

It was dark outside when Kurt sighed and turned his cell phone on again. He saw he had five messages. The first one was from his wife. Steeling himself, Kurt listened to the message.

"You son of a bitch; you, really? You just had call my Dad?" Donna's voice mail screamed.

With a hearty chuckle, Kurt designated that short burst as Donna's new ringtone. Now, whenever she would call Kurt's phone, Kurt would hear her indignant voice screaming 'you son of a bitch; you, really? You just had call my Dad.''

"My, what? Ma'am, I don't give a shit what your God damned computer says, the card is not stolen; this is my card, Kurt, my credit cards aren't working," Donna's next voice mail screamed. "Ma'am, don't you dare! I don't give a shit what, you cut that up I will sue this God damned hotel."