SHANGOReturns!

  A husband's confession . . .  I returned home from work and found my wife’s thong panties lying on the floor.  It meant only one thing: her lover had dropped by, and they were currently fucking.  I picked up her panties and stuffed it into my pocket, then shut the door behind me and advanced into my home.   Her lover’s clothes were strewn across the furniture.  Larry is his name.  She had met him at a bar.  Their meeting had been a coincidental one: she had been there to meet a friend who somehow stood her up; likewise, he was there waiting on a date that never showed up.  According to Kristin, my wife, they had locked eyes on each other from across the room, and then Larry manoeuvred through the small crowd towards her and that was that.  Kristin’s one rule regarding her choice in lovers was that she never fucked a would-be lover on a first date.  But Larry had beguilingly charmed the panties off her, and she inevitably broke her...

  What's a husband to do when he returns home from work and finds a superior man in bed with his wife?  Does he cry for help, or does he sit there and take it? *           *           *           * The sky rumbled with the approach of rain as I drove towards my home in Convent Gardens. It was an hour past midday and you’d think there won’t be much traffic along the way, but wrong. The highway was blocked on account of a freak accident. It was all on the news when I tuned in my radio. The accident just seemed to add to my frustration. I turned the knob to a Classic Rock station and listened to Christine McVie of  Fleetwood Mac  croon to me about how I made loving fun. Yeah right, like that was supposed to make me feel happy. The rain began to splatter by the time I got home which was a few minutes past three. Sheryl’s car was in the driveway when I arrived so I had no choice but ...

Your wife was a whore before you married her.  I know that sounds too direct the way I’m hitting you with this, but let’s be honest, you’ve known this way before now.  You knew that while that you and her were dating —getting to know each other, as the parlance goes—you knew that something was way off about her.  I’m sorry I have to be the one who gets to tell you, but someone’s got to do it—your buddies made me the designated guy to bring the truth to you—and the truth says that your wife is a fucking whore! Don’t get sad-eyed on me; don’t go making like this is the worst news you’ve ever heard.  You’ve been in self-denial for years, even though you and I heard the stories.  Sure, they were rumours at first, but look what they  turned out.   She was two-timing you the whole time you and her dated.   Elroy, that black stud from the Southside, is her lover.   He has been her lover for years, way before you got with her, and don’t you dare tell...

    Your Wife, My Bitch! Your wife knows how to spread her legs for me whenever I come by.  She is quite a submissive slut, that means that I’ve trained her well.  You should see her whenever I come by your home.  Your wife knows how to wear the right costume to welcome me.  The right costume being nothing at all.  Sure, she might decide to wear a t-shirt just to cover herself in case any of the neighbours are nosying about.  But that t-shirt will be out of her the minute I walk in and shut the door behind me. She leads me to the living room and promptly wastes no time in her entertainment.  Of course, you aren’t home to capture what we’re doing.  That is your loss, cuck-boi, as you need to be at work bringing home the money for me to use and take care of her for you.  She offers me something to drink from the fridge.  Most times, I’m thirsty when I come by, and you know the one thing that would quench m...

When a good wife ends up doing something bad, especially to you, her husband, your world never becomes what it once used to be. Think about it, white boy: you have stayed married to her all these years. The kids have grown and flown out of the nest.   You've long become accustomed to her quirks, as she has of you.  You have both added weight with your hair just about fading to grey.  Never do you have to bother about asking how much she loves you; there is no need for such question to be asked.  What you both seek now is the next chapter in your lives. Then one day it happens.  All it takes is one day. You returned home from work and let yourself in.  Up the stairs, you swear you can hear voices chuckling and laughing. You suddenly panic, thinking you’ve got burglars in your home. My God, what could they possibly have done to Agnes! You rush to the door and gasp at the horror:  yo...