Cannon: Cheaters Anonymous (Patreon)

The phone summoned Diane out of a long soak in the tub that hadn’t even lost its steamy atmosphere. She decided not to answer, only it rang so long that she had to surrender. The voice on the other end was that of a fellow suburbanite she’d run across occasionally in the supermarket and at the movies.

“Bill and I just got back from this steak joint at the Hotel Inn in Augest? We were driving out, see, and when we did, I saw your husband’s car in the lot. Then I saw him going up the stairs to a room. I hate to say this, Diane, but he wasn’t alone.”

Diane fell silent. It was hard just to make sense of what she was being told.

“Are you sure it was him?” Diane asked, looking for alternative explanations—that maybe it was someone who looked like him, a friend that Cannon had loaned his car to.

“Absolutely,” Ethel said. “I’ve been stuck behind his car at enough traffic lights to know each bumper sticker and cracked taillight.”

A chill went through Diane, all the more powerful with the abandoned warmth, the sickly sweet wetness left by her bath. Numbly she thanked her friend and hung up.

She tried to make a plan as she paced. Should she pack up and leave? She couldn’t do that based on the word of a friend, even a very good friend, which Ethel wasn’t. Should she get revenge by fucking around herself? Should she go to Augest and confront Cannon?

That last one instantly rang a bell for her. Diane wasn’t the sort to back down from a fight. In fact, she loved a good scrap when she was in the mood and her bath being ruined had surely done that for her.

Driving to Augest, Diane kept thinking about what she would say to Cannon, what she’d do. But thoughts of her own indiscretions made themselves heard. She hadn’t forgotten those boys she’d fucked with her neighbor Shane Sweeney. And she’d had Will too, and just that afternoon she’d been fucked by Bruno. Plus there was the fun she’d had with other women.

Then another thought entered her mind. She knew Cannon was a connoisseur of the female form. He wouldn’t cheat just to cheat; it was hard to do better than Diane’s sublime body, which drew male stares and female jealousy everywhere she went.

What if Cannon’s fox was even prettier than her? The bitch… if she was even on par with Diane, then she could have any man she wanted. Why take Diane’s husband?

But Diane had to admit that she herself had fucked a few married men. If Cannon’s mistress was a bitch, she was too.

Diane’s foot eased up on the gas pedal. Her car slowed, the roaring engine dwindling with her falling spirits. She would take the next exit and go home.

But when she came to the ramp, she couldn’t make the turn. No, there was no helping it. She had to face her cheating husband. Not knowing what she would say when she got there, Diane was still compelled to make herself heard.

When she saw the Hotel Inn sign, a pang shook her. She pulled in the parking lot, hands trembling on the wheel. And when she saw Cannon’s car, the strangeness reached her head—she swooned dizzily.

Still, she managed to park. Looking up at the windows on the upper floor, Diane’s eyes swam from one patch of light to another. She was charged with envy, thinking that behind one of those curtains, her man was fucking someone else!

She climbed the stairs, wondering how she would find Cannon’s room. Diane soon decided she would knock on every door if she had to; she’d find him if it took all night!

Panting and quaking, Diane moved down the verandah that wrapped around the courtyard. Only one window was not inviolate, but its open drapes showed a dark, empty space. Every other window was lit up, though hidden by curtains. Shadows shifted around inside that filtered light, taunting Diane. She searched for Cannon in every silhouette.

One set of drapes wasn’t completely closed. An unaligned slit between the curtains let her see into the room. She pressed her forehead to the glass and looked from side to side. Her blood came to a froth. There were two naked people on the bed, a woman receiving and a man giving. It wasn’t Cannon, but still Diane’s blood boiled at the thought that this was what he was doing.

Envy mixed with her jealousy. Why couldn’t he be doing that to her, his wife? Her lust battled with the thought that she could not have any self-respect and ever enjoy sex with Cannon again. For the sake of her dignity, she would have to miss out on what some cunt got to savor!

Hurrying back and forth, she looked for another room that was vulnerable to a voyeur. But they all resisted her spying. She would have to knock and she did, rapping her knuckles against the nearest door. It opened, showing her a handsome, suited man.

“Well, hello,” he said. “And what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, sorry, I’ve got the wrong room,” Diane said, choking down her anger and the urge to snap at him. She hurried away.

The man looked after her as she went down the verandah. Diane kept going until he went back inside—by then she was at a corner of the verandah. She stopped and knocked on another random door.

There was no answer. Diane felt lightheaded, imagining Cannon and another woman inside, doing what she’d just seen being done, but moreso. Cannon had no equal when it came to that.

She pounded on the door, shaking it in its frame.

“Who’s there, what do you want?” a frail voice came, clearly that of an old woman and obviously terrified. Diane hurriedly moved on.

Dazed, she went back the way she’d come, figuring it would be more clandestine to alternate which side of the courtyard she was visiting so she wasn’t just going door to door, arousing suspicion down the row. She saw again the slot of light that before had shown her a coupling man and woman. Even in her current madness, she had to look.

Now they were fucking dog-style. Diane saw the woman’s breasts jostling under her bend body. Her round ass stuck out behind her, an inviting target, and Cannon… it was Cannon’s prick appearing and disappearing between their bodies!

Diane felt her lust surge even as rage and jealousy consumed her. She couldn’t even think how Cannon had replaced the man she’d seen before, or how she’d mistaken her husband for someone else…

Then she heard footsteps, close. She turned to see who was approaching her and saw the suited man who’d answered the door the first time she’d knocked. Only he had Cannon’s face, Cannon’s smile as he looked into the room with her.

“Like to give that a try?” he asked her.

“Get away from me, get away from me!” Diane yelled, tears blurring her vision. “I never want to see you again!”

Hearing her own voice, she knew everyone else at the motel had heard it too. Floorboards creaked as people went to open their doors or part their curtains and see what was happening.

Diane felt like a freak, an idiot, hysterical. She ran for the stairs, knowing she would have to slow down to descend them, but she didn’t think she could stop for even a moment. Right then, she didn’t care if she threw herself all the way down those steps!

***

“And… awake.”

Diane blinked, her unseeing eyes now swiveling to and fro to take in her surroundings. She wasn’t at a Hotel Inn or anywhere near Augest. She was at her Cheaters Anonymous meeting, led by Dr. Rossi. He gave her a warm smile as he tucked away the coin he’d used to hypnotize her.

“Now, Diane,” he said in his deadpan accent. “Under hypnosis, you now feel scenario like those of men you love. In relationship with man you marry, only he with someone else. How do you feel empathic?”

“Oh, it was awful, Dr. Rossi,” Diane gasped. “I liked being married so much—he was such a good man—I would’ve done anything for him. How could he do that to me?”

“Thering, thering,” Rossi said compassionately, patting her shoulder. “I do like not doing this to you, but you must emphasize with what you’ve done to others. It’s only way to learn lesson not to do again!”

***

As she left the meeting, Greta fell in beside her. She’d been the first to try Dr. Rossi’s hypnotic trick and eagerly recommended Diane be the next.

“I can’t believe how real it was,” Diane marveled to her. “Like a dream! I thought it would be easy to see through, but I really thought I was married to… someone. Had been for years.”

“It was something, wasn’t it? Only not awful.”

“To be in a happy marriage and get cheated on?”

Greta shook her head. “You can’t fool me. While everyone else was listening to you, I was watching. And your hot little body got all turned on when you were cuckolded, didn’t it?”

Diane giggled. “I suppose there’s no hiding a new fetish from you. Shame I can’t ask Dr. Rossi to put me under again.”

“That’s not the only way to indulge ourselves.”

“Ourselves?”

“How do you think I knew what to watch for? Tell me, who was your dream guy?”

Diane colored. “Why do you need to know?”

“Because if he’s in the picture, we could always be… exclusively non-exclusive. Say he cheats on you with me—and cheats on me with you.”

“And we both get to watch?” Diane asked, following along.

“Of course. Constructive criticism too. I meant it when I said you’ve got a hot little body. I can think of all sorts of things I’d like to see you wear… so long as they get ripped off you.”

Diane throbbed between her legs. “He was fucking someone from behind when I watched him—you know, doggy-style? I know what it feels like, but I can only imagine how it looks.”

“I’d be happy to get on all fours for you, dearie, if you can’t find a good stag film,” Greta teased.

“What about you? Do you have a man in mind?”

“Oh, absolutely. He’s a real humdinger too. If you can’t get yours, you’re welcome to mine.”

“That would be something! Especially if we can both get our man. And I do mean ‘ours’!”

“To think, if only our husbands had suggested wife-swapping, we’d never be divorced.”

“If marriage was that fun, we wouldn’t have cheated. You go look up your man, I’ll try mine. We’ll see if a man minds being cheated on when it’s with himself!”