John stared across the street at the motel. Four friends had told him what he'd see, but he still didn't believe his eyes. Mary, his wife of fifteen years, embraced and kissed another man. The kiss wasn't like the kisses she had been giving him lately. No, this was a kiss of deep passion. The kind of kiss, if he thought really hard, the memory would picture in his mind. It was the same kiss she had given him many times at the beginning of their relationship.

A tear rolled down his cheek and fell on the back of his hand. The same hand that was holding the nine-millimeter pistol he had brought with him. He looked down at his hand and realized he could never use that gun. He had killed men before, but that was war; this was the woman he still loved with all his heart.

John watched as the love of his life entered the hotel room, a look of sheer glee on her beautiful face. He remembered that look, too. Mary was full of passion for the first ten years of their marriage, but for the last five, they had been in a rut.

John placed the gun in the glove box and got out of the car. He hesitated a moment before walking across the street. He could see the window shade had not been fully drawn. He had to see.

The motel was mostly empty owing to the time of day. Mary's car and two others were there. It was on the opposite side from the check-in, and the only maid was now on the second floor.

John crept up to the window; there was an open gap of almost a foot in the shade. At first glance, he saw the man sitting at the end of the bed, a look of glee on his face. John moved his head a little further, and there she was. Mary was on her knees, cock in her mouth, smiling with her eyes as she looked into the man's eyes. Another tear rolled down John's cheek.

He didn't want to see anymore, but he couldn't move. He brought his phone up and started videoing the two of them. His only thought was he might need proof; he would only record for a moment or two and then leave.

Mary and her lover stood, and the first thing John noticed was the man's cock. It couldn't have been more than four inches. John chuckled as he thought, 'Well, he doesn't have me beat in that department.' John had eight inches that Mary had adored those first ten years.

The couple spun around, and the man pushed Mary back on the bed. Then kneeled and put his face between her thighs. She had her head back, eyes closed, and hands with a white-knuckled grip on the sheets. John could see the tuft of dirty blonde hair on her mound, the man's nose planted in her neatly trimmed bush. Mary let out a deep moan that John could feel as much as he heard it.

John didn't know why, but he hadn't gone down on Mary in years. He had always loved going down on her. The taste and the smell were now permeating his mind. He could remember the sweetness of her juices and her musky smell mixed with her favorite perfume, Channel No. 5.

John recognized the telltale signs of Mary's impending orgasm. She exploded in the next moment, letting out a half moan, half scream. Her back arched as she plastered the man's face with her cum.

The man stayed between her legs, kissing and licking gently as she came down for the height of her orgasm. Then climbed on top of her and started fucking her like a jackrabbit with that little dick. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud. He then looked over at Mary's face, and their eyes locked. A look of sheer terror spread across that beautiful face, and tears started streaming down her cheeks. John joined her, or maybe she joined him with the falling tears. He wiped the tears away, gave her one last look, turned, and walked away.

John walked across the street and got back in his car. He started the engine to leave, but something told him he should stay. So he turned the engine off, watched the motel, and waited.

He had only waited maybe ten minutes before the man came out of the motel room, but there was no sign of Mary. John sat and waited for an hour, but still no Mary. He got out of the car and walked back to the motel room. Mary could be heard balling inside; a glance through the window showed Mary at the end of the bed in a prayer stance, crying her eyes out.

The maid was two doors down, so he took a chance and asked the maid to let him into the room as he forgot his key card inside and his wife was ill. The maid smiled and said, "No Problem."

Mary was so distraught that she didn't even hear the door open. John sat on the bed beside her before she realized someone was there. She looked up at him and started crying even harder. He slipped onto the floor next to her and pulled her into an embrace. She hugged him so tight that he struggled to draw in a breath. Mary cried for a while before it finally slowed to a whimper and stopped. He could tell she was asleep, exhausted from several hours of nonstop crying.

Mary slept for the next hour but hardly loosened her grip the whole time. John heard her start to sniffle again and tried to pull her away to talk, but she only squeezed him tighter.

"Are you going to divorce me?" Mary choked out.

"Is that what you want?" he responded.

He could feel her shake her head no.

"Mary, let me look at you."

She gripped him even tighter for a moment before loosening her grip and pulling away, her eyes down, not looking at him.

"Look at me, Mary." He put a finger under her chin and raised her face.

Her eyes slowly lifted, and tears started to fall as her eyes met his.

"I know I have a lot of blame to accept for you being here. I never stopped loving you, Mary, but I realize now, that I stopped showing you how much. If you really don't want a divorce-"

Mary vigorously shook her head no.

"Then I'm ready to start showing you how much I really love you again."

Mary pulled herself tight against John again and started balling. The crying stopped after a few minutes this time. She pulled away, and without a word, they stood up, left the motel room, and drove home with Mary following him.

Over the next few months, Mary and John reignited their marriage and got things back to how they used to be. They slept naked; John would wake early most mornings and start the day eating out Mary's sweet pussy. He loved the feeling and taste of running his tongue slowly through her labia. Then pulling back and watching her pussy bloom open like a morning flower.

The mornings John didn't wake before Mary, she would wake him by slowly licking and sucking his cock. Then they would shower with each other and sometimes have a quick fuck in the shower before leaving for work. After work, they would cook dinner together, eat by candlelight, and have fun with each other: cards, games, movies, dates, and lots of sex.

Mary and John's favorite evening event was the spontaneous sex. Fucking on the kitchen counter while dinner was cooking. Having dessert eaten off each other's bodies. The first time that happened, Mary accidentally dropped some of her blueberry pie on her tit. John told her to leave it and came over and licked it off. Mary moved her tank top to the side and placed some blueberry on her nipple, creating a new pastime.

Mary and John talked to each other and showed their love every day. They have now been married and happy for thirty-two years and never waiver at telling and showing each other how much they are loved.