tagFetishCheating Wife - Spying Husband

Cheating Wife - Spying Husband

bydonkey52©

This is an original work of erotic fiction. It employs intensely graphic sexual descriptions and explicit sexual language, and is intended only for an adult audience. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by sexually explicit situations, then please do not read this story.

If you agree to and comply with these terms, then scroll down to begin the story.

@Copyright 2009 by Don.Key12

Unlimited redistribution permitted, as long as this original author copyright notice remains attached.



Chapter One – The Suspicions

I could sense that something was different; something was not quite right between us. After two years of marriage, the newness of our relationship had worn off, and the excitement of being together had turned into more of an obligation. There was now a feeling of distance, a gap that had somehow grown noticeably greater just in the last few days.

Michele and I were both working long hours at our jobs, trying to stand out as high performers, and hoping for quick career advancement. The strain of this sustained effort took its toll on our relationship, and we were most often too tired to do much more than say goodnight when it was time for bed.

But all that changed for Michele. One night, not long ago, she came home from work much later than usual. She didn't call, as she often did, to say she was running late. The noticeable difference that night was her energy level. Instead of dragging herself into the bathroom and then flopping into bed, she almost flew through the house, with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

I got up from the couch and headed to bed, and I heard the shower running. She usually just pees and puts on her cotton nightshirt before crashing, but here she was, in the shower. I heard her say, "I'll just be a minute. I need to wash off a layer of this work stress." She never showered before bed before, except when coming home from volleyball. Why tonight, then? Something felt not quite right.

She bounced out of the shower in her robe, and went into her walk-in closet, emerging in her cotton nightshirt. Things were looking more like normal again. She went off to the kitchen for a glass of water before bed. I was already in bed, but decided to take a quick leak before sleep. I got up and went into the bathroom, which also contained the tub/shower. I closed the door, lifted the seat, and started to pee. I looked up and saw something that made me do a double-take. There was a very sexy pair of panties and a sexy bra hanging from the hook on the back of the door. "Whose were these?" I thought to myself.

Michele has never been very feminine when it comes to her underwear. It's always been cotton full briefs and plain white cotton bras. I have purchased a couple of sexy things for her to wear in the past, but she was not excited by them in the least. She said that she wouldn't even try them on, that they would make her look cheap, and asked me to return them. "What were you thinking about when you bought this?" she had asked, sarcastically. Clearly, I was thinking about sex. I guessed that she just wasn't in the right mood for any romantic overtures. Lately, she's never been in the right mood. That's why these sexy undies were a curious sight.

Well, my attention was now on these items, hanging there, a foot from my face. I saw a lacy white underwire bra, front hook, with push up pads. Hanging in front of it was a pair of white silk panties with a lace trim. I touched the bra, and felt the push up pad. Yes, it was not my imagination; there it was, really there. I felt the silk on the panties, and admired the high cut legs and their shiny texture. Then, my eye caught a glimpse of something else. I looked more closely at the crotch of the panty, where there was a cotton shield sewn into the silky panty bottom. There was something there, not quite the same color as the cotton, and it seemed to have some sort of texture to it. I felt the crotch with my thumb, and it felt a little wet and sticky. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that it was a dab of cum. I gave it a sniff, and smelled a musky odor that could have been just the residual perspiration from a long day of wearing the panties, but I wasn't sure what this sticky spot was all about. Was she getting another yeast infection? I flinched at the thought of that, since that would put yet another damper and time-out on our already too-infrequent sex life.

I got back into bed, and debated whether or not to ask her about the lingerie in the bathroom. She came back from the kitchen, now yawning and dragging her feet, and flopped into bed. She was putting on her usual performance, clearly showing me that she was tired. When she does that, there is no room for

conversation, especially of a possible sexual nature. I let it go for now as she pulled the covers over herself and rolled over, away from me, mumbling "G'nite, honey". That was a clear signal to me to leave her alone and let her get to sleep.

When I got up the next morning, I went to take a leak, and noticed that the bra and panties were no longer hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Sometime during the night, she must have remembered them, and slipped out of bed to put them away. Or did I just imagine them there, or see it in a dream? Who knows?

Nothing else unusual happened along these lines for the next week. I made an effort to try and watch her undress after she got home from work. She has always been a bit shy about that, and when she caught me looking at her undressing, she shut the closet door tight and said, "I need my privacy, you know." I saw only the outline of her regular cotton bra under her top, and there were only her cotton panties in the hamper when I did the wash later that week.

Chapter Two: The Suitcase

The next week, she had to go out of town on business. On the day she left, I went to work at my regular time, while she stayed home and finished packing, since she was headed directly to the airport from home.

We talked on the phone for a few minutes each day while she was gone, and everything sounded all right. She had an evening flight back, but the connection into Dallas was late. She made the plane for home just in time, but her suitcase didn't make that last connection. When she got home, she said that the airline would deliver her suitcase to the house tomorrow. We went to right to bed and to sleep, both of us again tired from a long day.

The next day, things at work went well for me, and I came home a little early to catch up on chores. I wasn't expecting Michele home for at least a couple of hours. After I parked the car in the garage, I saw that, next to the back door, was her suitcase, where the airline had dropped it off earlier that day.

I brought the suitcase in and set it on the bed. Something in my brain rang a little bell, and my intuition said that I needed to see exactly what was in this suitcase, based on the little incident with the lingerie in the bathroom last week.

I opened the suitcase locks with the spare key, and popped the levers to open the suitcase. Inside, there were her business suits, but under them, there was something I hadn't seen before. It was a short, black

cocktail dress. I took it out and held it up, and couldn't believe my eyes. The Michele that I know would never even consider wearing something like this! It was very low cut, with a built-in bra and a flirty chiffon skirt. Next to it in the suitcase were a pair of three inch black patent leather heels, and

inside one shoe was a pair of black pantyhose. It certainly looked like she dressed up for some occasion that she didn't mention. She had never dressed like that for me, though. It's almost always pantsuits. I can't even get her to wear a skirt and heels when we go out, much less a sexy short dress like this one.

I looked a bit further into the suitcase, and found three bra and panty sets, all of them lacy and sexy. I'd never seen those before either, nor had I ever seen her wear anything feminine and sexy like that. She has always been comfortable in that boring cotton granny underwear of hers that she has worn since before we were married. All three sets looked like they had been worn. I imagined what she must have looked like wearing them, and felt my tummy flip and my cock start to stiffen. But the most surprising discovery was a cream-colored silk and lace teddy. I looked at it closely, and the silk was all wrinkled, as if it had been slept in. There was a sizable stain about mid-way down the front. If I didn't

know better, it looked as though there might have been some sex involved with this teddy.

I felt confused and suspicious by these discoveries, but I knew that I just needed to put things back like they were, re-lock the suitcase and pretend like I had no knowledge of any of this possibly incriminating evidence. So, I replaced the items, and left the locked suitcase on the bed for her to unpack when she got home.

I figured that I would hang around the bedroom once she got home, and see how she was going to handle the unpacking. I wanted to act surprised at her wardrobe, and maybe ask if she would try in on for me. No such luck. When she got home an hour later, she saw the suitcase on the bed, but she said that she was too worn out from yesterday's trip and a long day today to feel like unpacking tonight. She set the suitcase in the corner by the bed, and got ready for bed. I watched her through the gap in the partially closed door to her walk-in closet, and saw that when she took off her pantsuit, she had on the same old cotton underwear that she always wore. So, something certainly was different about what was going on today compared to what went on during her trip. It certainly increased my level of suspicion.

Chapter Three - The Stash

She slept in late the next morning. I had to get to work, so I missed out on the suitcase unpacking. That afternoon, she called me at work and said she needed to stay an hour or two extra, and asked me to hold up making dinner until she got home. I left work at my usual time, and got home to find my curiosity still aroused by the suitcase contents.

I went to her walk-in closet and began poking around in the mess of boxes, plastic storage bins and gym bags that were in there. She was an athlete, and had several gym bags for her volleyball, running, softball, tennis, etc. I looked in a few storage boxes with no success, and then thought to look in a gym bag that I hadn't seen her use in a while. I pulled it out from under a pile of folded sweat pants, and unzipped the top. I lifted up the grey sweat pants that were on the very top of its contents. What I uncovered was difficult to comprehend at first, but then it hit me: here was her stash!

There were several sets of bras and panties all neatly folded on one side of the bag. I pulled out a bra, and saw that it was a pink demi-cup push-up that must have barely covered her nipples. The matching panties were French cut, and were made of Lycra with a lace trim. Under this set I had just removed was the white bra/panty set that I saw hanging on the back of the bathroom door a week ago, judging by my recollection of its color and style. Wow! I would have never thought that she would ever

own this sort of sexy lingerie. Of course, my suspicions were raised even further now, since now I knew that she was clearly hiding this stuff from me. I knew there must be a reason for this sort of deception, and it must be about some wilder side of her that she was concealing.

The rest of the contents of the bag were along the same lines: two lacy teddies (neither one was the cream color that I had seen in the suitcase the day before) and several pairs of expensive pantyhose (Hanes Ultra Sheer), still in their store boxes. Also in the bag was one pair of black three inch heels with ankle straps, and the same black pumps I saw in the suitcase the day before. No sign of the short black dress or lingerie from the suitcase, though.

I continued the search. I opened a plastic keeper in the corner, removed a layer of bed sheets lying on the top of its contents, and there I found the rest of it. I saw the black dress, the black hose, the cream color teddy and three bra/panty sets. This must be the dirty laundry stash. I'll bet she runs this over to the cleaners or does some wash while I'm not around. Quite a little scam she has going here, I thought. I put everything back in its place and went to the kitchen to get a beer, and to sit and think about what all of this might mean, and what to do next.

My jealous thoughts turned to spying on her. While she worked late at least one day a week, she also played sports on other nights. I imagined that her regular sports schedule would allow her time to do things other than sports, if she chose to use it as a cover. Her regular volleyball night was on Thursday, so I had an idea.

I'm a pretty sharp technical person with electronics, so I went out and bought a miniature wireless microphone and a hand-held scanner. I tried it out, and found, as I suspected, that the scanner's superior sensitivity allowed me to hear the wireless microphone clearly at a range of over a block. I thought that the two small hearing aid batteries should power the microphone for at least one day's worth of monitoring.

I got up early on Thursday morning, and went to the kitchen to perform my task. I took an Exacto knife, and carefully slit the lining of her purse. I turned the microphone on, and inserted it into the gap in the lining. I used a small dot of glue to hold it firmly in place, and a piece of double faced tape to close up the small slit that I had made in the lining. My patch job was neat, and it was impossible to tell that the purse had been tampered with. I turned on the scanner, and tested the channel. It was working fine. The microphone was placed high enough in the purse to pick up the slightest sound I made. I was ready to do some spy work now.

Chapter Four – The Spying Begins

That afternoon, I came home from work as usual. I called her at work, like I usually do. She said that volleyball was still on for tonight, and that she would be going out for a beer or two afterwards, so don't wait up. I told her to have fun, and that I was going to run to the grocery store for a few things, then come home and watch some TV. She said goodbye and we hung up. Then I got into action.

I drove to her work, and parked near her office building. I was still a few blocks away, but close enough to where I could still see her car. I waited until she came out. She walked to her car, got in, but did not head toward the Rec Center, where the volleyball games were held. Instead, she drove off in the opposite direction, leaving the office complex and heading into a residential area.

I followed at some distance, and at one point lost sight of her. I thought I saw her car turn into a side street several blocks up, and I took a chance that it was her. I passed by the street and turned at the

next block. I pulled over and switched on the scanner. The signal was strong, so I knew I was close by. Over the scanner, I heard her car door slam, and I also heard the unusual sound (for her) of high heels clicking on the concrete. Shrubbery had obscured my view of her in the office parking lot. I couldn't see her closely as she left the office, so I didn't notice if she had changed clothes there before leaving. I

suspected that she did, now.

She continued walking for another minute or so. It appeared that she had parked intentionally a distance away from her destination to avoid any association if she were to be spotted by someone. Then I saw her, a block away, walking up the same side of street that I was parked on now! I panicked, and wondered what to do next. If she got much closer, she would likely spot my car, even though it was a common make and color. But just then, she turned and walked up a driveway, towards the back of a house at the far end of the block. I could see her clearly enough now to tell that she was NOT wearing what she wore to work today (an ugly brown pantsuit), but instead was wearing something I hadn't seen on her before: a short, tight black skirt, with a dark blouse and a suit jacket to match the skirt. She also had on black hose and those strappy heels that I had discovered earlier in the week.

On the scanner, I heard a door open and close, and heard a kiss, then another, then a moan, almost like purring. A man's voice appeared. He said that she looked great tonight, and she replied that she didn't have a lot of time, so could he just pour some wine and we'll sit. There was no conversation after that, and she didn't say his name, so I had no clue as to who he was. There was something that sounded like more kissing and some heavy breathing. Then I heard them walk across what sounded like a wood floor and heard a door squeak open. It was clear that she had carried her purse with her into what I assumed was the bedroom, since the noise of their movements over the wireless microphone was still loud and clear.

It sounded like they almost broke the bed when they fell onto it, and I heard her start to moan and breath in heavy gasps. She said, "Oh, touch me, touch me, baby!" and he replied, "I love it when you wear stockings for me." "That's not all I wore for you tonight," she responded. There were more

kissing sounds and heavy breathing noises, combined with the rustling of clothes coming off. He must have been impressed by whatever she had on, since he said next, "Oh, baby, you look so hot in that!" The bed creaked a little more, and then he said "God, you're so wet!" She was breathing hard now, and she said, in a breathless voice, "Fuck me, fuck me now!"

There was no more talking after that. The bed was creaking, and she was moaning in a repetitive "Oh! Oh! Oh!", keeping time with his every stroke. After about ten solid minutes of hearing his balls slap, slap, slap against her pussy, I heard her begin that little grunting, mewing, choking sound she makes when she comes. Then, she surprised the hell out of me by vocalizing her orgasm. She never has said a word with me, just a few grunts and she was done. But with this guy, she was uninhibited and

cried out over and over again, "Oh, Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! You're so big in me! You're so big! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

I was flushed, and I found myself with a stiff cock in my pants from listening to my otherwise not very sensual wife lose herself to this guy's cock. I was breathing hard and a little dizzy, and I had what I

think was a panic attack. I shut off the scanner, started the car, and drove home, shaking from the shock.

Chapter Five - The Evidence

I got home somehow without getting into a traffic accident. I went to the bar, got a lowball glass and poured about three fingers of Jack Daniels. I sat in my chair, stunned. I sipped the bourbon, and wondered what to do when she came home. Confrontation wasn't my style. I found I had finished the drink. Unable to cope with this anymore, I just went into the bedroom, got out of my clothes and went to bed.

I was awakened some time later by her arrival at home. She was trying to be quiet, but I was a light sleeper. She entered the bedroom, wearing her volleyball uniform and carrying her gym bag. Obviously part of the deception, I thought to myself. What a liar! I knew where she really was. I stirred and sat up when she turned on the closet light. I asked, "How was volleyball?" She replied, with her obviously well rehearsed story, "Oh, we lost, and we went out for a beer afterwards. I need a shower." She put the gym bag away and went into the bathroom. I watched the door close, then heard the water start. I jumped out of bed, and went to the closet. Her gym bag was there, near the rear of the closet, beneath her shoe shelves. I pulled the bag out and undid the zipper.

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