Eco-"Friendly" Cleaning

"Take it Nicky. Take my ass. Fuck me, baby," she growled, as I started stroking into her. It only took a few strokes before I was bottoming out inside of her.

"Is it tight, baby? Barely used, you know. Only special clients. Favorite clients. What took you so long, Nicky?" she grunted as she took my pounding of her ass in stride. "Does it excite you to know you're getting something that even Dave doesn't get? VIP service?"

Excite me? She was pissing me off. I fucked her hard and started slapping her ass. The bitch even told her clients that not only was I a cuckold, but they were getting action she denied me. I was still in shock. My best fuckin' friend! It was impossible to understand. I thought we'd had a good marriage. I'd been certain of it until about 10 minutes earlier. How the fuck had I missed this?

"Yes!" she cried out after the third or fourth good hard slap. "Punish me, Nicky. Spank my ass. Make me pay for being a naughty slut. Your slut."

I leaned over her, holding her shoulders painfully tight, pounding my cock into her ass for the first and only time. I'd never touch her again, the dirty little skank. My wife was a fucking whore, and I'd put her in business.

She had finally stopped talking, crying out softly with each powerful stroke. I was surprised I was lasting as long as I did, within her tight sheath. She started mumbling a series of cries to God, her ass thrusting back firmly against me. So fucking beautiful, and such a fucking waste. I felt the tears in my eyes, as I realized how this had to end. My marriage was over. Hell, my life was over.

She was moaning continuously; I felt her body tense up and she squealed her release. She was coming. The cheating bitch was coming on my cock, from an ass-fucking. God damn it! She got off on this shit. She loved it, and still kept it from me. Her husband. Her loving, clueless, cuckolded husband.

"God, you make me come so good, lover. Nobody can love me like you. Come in me now. Fill my filthy ass with your cum."

I drove my hips against her with a vengeance, the bed creaking dangerously, the headboard pounding against the wall. She was whimpering as I drove her into the mattress. Bottom-up. Bitch. With a groan, I realized I couldn't hold back anymore, and pumped my cum deep into her bowels. Those traitorous bowels, which had taken other loads, who knows how many, but not mine. Not until now.

When I was finished, my thighs trembling from the effort, I pulled out. I reached down and untied each of her ankles.

"God, Nicky, that was incredible," she sighed, turning on her side and speaking down toward me. "Then again, you're always incredible."

That blindfold of hers was getting on my nerves, but I decided to leave it for just a little longer. I moved up the bed, and saw the handcuff key hanging on a string from the chain. I undid the handcuffs, and she turned onto her back, smiling. I laid down on her, holding her one last time. We'd had some good times, Brenda and I. Too bad I'd married a lying cheating whore. No more good times for us. Ever.

She reached for her blindfold, and pulled it off, squinting and blinking rapidly. I saw her eyes focus, and take me in. Those beautiful eyes I'd fallen in love with. I ran my fingers through her long dark hair, trying to capture that feeling for an eternity.

"Dave," she whispered nervously. "Oh, God, Dave ..."

"Shh," I told her, my finger over her lips. "You know how much I love you, Brenda? I've always loved you. From the first time I saw you. I always will."

"Please, baby, let me explain..."

My hands moved to her neck, and started squeezing. "Not a word, Angel. Not one fucking word."

"It was just..."

I squeezed harder, cutting off her air. The stupid bitch wouldn't listen. I continued squeezing, my fury raging through me, watching her face turn red, my fingers digging into her tender skin. After several seconds she started to struggle, pulling at my hands, hitting my arms, her body squirming underneath me. I squeezed harder, her eyes bulging in fear, face turning scarlet, lips turning white. Her fingernails were digging into my hands, desperate.

I eased back, hearing her gasp. Mouth gaping open for breath.

"Listen, love. But don't say a word, understood?"

She was holding my wrists, her breath catching in her chest. She nodded.

"You have two choices. One, you speak, say one God-damned thing, make one stupid excuse for being a lying cheating whore, try to justify it in any way, and I swear I'll finish what I've started. Nod if you understand." I squeezed her throat to make sure she understood, and she nodded quickly.

"Good. Your second choice, and it only lasts for a few minutes is this: You leave this house, you get in your car, and you start driving. I don't care where, but you drive, in as straight a line as you can away from here, and you don't stop until it's dark. Don't look back, and you'll never see me again. Don't go by our home. Stop using my last name. You will never contact Nick, Gail or anyone else from your whoring company. You will disappear. I will leave the joint checking account and your ATM card open for two weeks. Then I close everything. You are a ghost, a memory after that. You gave me several great years, so this is my gift to you. I ever hear from you again, even a hint of you, and I will hunt you down and finish what I started. That I promise. You contact anybody, and they'll get the same treatment as you. That's anybody. Family, friends, I don't care."

I pulled back, and saw tears in her terrified eyes. "You understand I mean every word I said? Choose carefully. At the moment, I'm hoping you choose option one, I really am."

She climbed off the bed, and silently got dressed. I laid on the mattress, watching her, my juices dripping down her inner thigh. When she was done, she turned toward me at the doorway, with tears rolling down her face. "I'm sorry. You'll never see me again."

For a moment I was sorely tempted to jump up and deal with her for speaking, choosing option one, but I let her go. I put on my pants, and noticed the cleaning team had finished and moved on. I sat down and drank straight from Nick's best bottle of bourbon.

As I sat there, I started to get angry. Angrier. My fucking best friend. My wife. Damn it! Someone was going to pay. Ten minutes later, I had the beginnings of a desperate plan.

I got off my ass, and hit the door. In 15 minutes I was in the Plano SpyCentre Security Store. I'd driven past it dozens of times, but never imagined I'd be using it. They were helpful, and I have to admit, they had dozens of solutions for what I was looking for.

On the way back to Nick's house, I picked up a few more 'Odds-n-ends'. Within a couple of hours after my return, I had the place wired to the nines. The gear wasn't cheap. Most of the hidden cameras cost several hundred dollars apiece from that damn store. But that was Ok, Brenda's business was going to pay for it. I'd damn certain make sure of that.

Fake smoke alarm cameras, hidden book cameras, fake wall charger cameras, I had them all in place.

With Phase One complete. I started on Phase Two. I trashed the place. Brought in dirt from the yard. Pissed on the carpet. Cut up a fish and placed pieces of it deep inside several of his vents. Did the same with some raw chicken. Went to the garage and flipped the circuit breaker on the kitchen. Crammed a fist full of paper-towels into each of the toilets. I even opened up the shower-head, and stuck a piece of fish inside it as well.

I shook up a beer, and let it spray all over the guest room. Another for the master bedroom. I left the bed as it was, trashed. Didn't worry about DNA or anything. Hardly likely a simple case of vandalism would be inspected that carefully. Besides, at that moment, I didn't care.

Finally satisfied with my effort, I left the back door wide open, and left a muddy trail across his porch, walking back and forth several times, leading to the back of his yard. I broke a window leading into the guest bedroom, from the outside, and opened it. I made a few more tracks across the back deck to the window. Tracked the mud into the guest bedroom.

Phase Two complete, I headed home. Time for Phase Three. I dealt with accounts and credit cards, reporting the cards stolen, closing out the ones I could, and moving money out of the joint accounts back into my business account.

I'd need some anonymity, and to hide my trail, so for about $300 each, I set up a couple of Nevada corporations, with 24 hour turnaround service. Amazing how easy it was. Ten minutes on a website, and everything was started.

Now to deal with Brenda. I loved her, I did. Unreservedly for over seven years. For those seven years, I left seven grand in the joint account. A grub stake for her new life. One week from now, I'd close it out. I hope she made good choices.

It was getting late, so I made a call. Phase four.

"Hi Gail, Brenda asked me to give you a call."

"Dave! I've been trying to get hold of her, she never got back to us after her morning cleaning. Did something happen?" She sounded nervous, and I was wondering if the cleaning crew had said anything.

"I'm not sure. I got a call at work. She said she had to go out of town, apparently some kind of imminent death in the family. I had no idea, it was all so sudden."

I forgot to mention that the imminent death was Brenda's, if she didn't disappear.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did she say when she'd be back?"

"No word. I imagine it'll be a few days. She didn't pack much." I think that was fair to say. Nothing wasn't much.

"You'll let me know if you hear from her? Tell her I hope things get better."

"If I hear from her, you'll be the first to know."

* * *

I woke up after sleeping far better than I ever expected to. I went to work, like it was any other day, but checked the accounts regularly. She was using her ATM card, had taken out a few hundred dollars, and filled her tank at a gas station in Louisiana. Looks like she was running toward Florida. There was no charge for a motel, but she might have used cash.

It was no surprise when I got a call from Nick in the late afternoon.

"How was the honeymoon?" I asked.

"Dave, my house was trashed! When's the last time you were over there?"

"My God, really? I checked your mail and stuff day before yesterday. It looked fine then. I'm certain I locked up afterward."

"Looks like they broke in through a window. They left the place wide open. There were three God damn cats in there when we got home, and the place was a complete mess. Why the fuck would anyone do that?"

"Damn neighborhood kids, probably. Vandals. You have no idea who would do that? Nobody pissed off at you personally?"

"Hell no. As far as I know, I don't have an enemy in the world. It doesn't make sense."

"Probably just bad luck. Real shame too. I know that Brenda had her team over there a couple of days ago to get the place cleaned up for you when you got back. Belated wedding present."

"Shit. Is she around? I could really use her help getting everything back in order. Alice was supposed to move in tomorrow, but not the way it is now."

"She had a family emergency. She had to leave town. Sorry about that. Give Gail a call, I'm sure she'll squeeze you in." Between her thighs, I thought.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that. Damn the luck!"

I felt a little better, as I saw the jigsaw pieces of my plan slowly snap together.

At home that evening, I went to the study, where Brenda did all her business work. Her computer was password protected, but nothing special. She used the same three passwords for everything, and this was no different. I guess the whore trusted me. Thank God for all the people who knew nothing about security.

I laughed at how easy it was to access all her stuff. Logging into the business website, it automatically filled in her username and password. Thank you Chrome. One click and I was in.

A few hours later, I knew it all. When the 'special' services started, how the repertoire was expanded. Who the clients were. How often they were serviced. What they paid. Nick was scheduled for a full cleaning the following day, and I was pleased to see he had opted for some of the specialty choices. Nothing too crazy, but he had opted for the top down mattress cleaning, which was straight sex, and the vent cleaning, a euphemism for a blowjob. Nice way to spend the day after your honeymoon.

I printed off names, addresses, emails, phone numbers. I had a use for those.

Next, I checked into the bank accounts. Again, automatic password filling came in helpful. Their bank account was quite flush, with over 80 grand in it. They'd been clearing better than 15 thousand a month for the last few months. I checked deposits and withdrawals, and was a little surprised to see that my wife hadn't been dipping into it. I'm not sure why that was, but I was going to keep an eye on it.

Back on my computer, I had received an email with my new corporate information. It had taken less than 18 hours to get it back. Pretty amazing; thank you Internet. Opening a Cayman Islands bank account was only a little trickier. Most of it could be done online, with a phone call, and some notarized documents and a passport with an Apostile, proving its authenticity. I was going to be busy. The good thing was once I had the process in place, it would be easier to open the next ones.

Back to the Nevada corporations, two more opened by the previous corporations, the money coming from my wife's ATM/Visa card. Paid the premium for 24 hour service again. I was getting good at this. Hopefully after this week I'd never have to do anything similar again.

After being in the dark for nine months of adultery and lying, it felt good to be doing something. Anything. Things were working out well for me so far. I think I'd covered most of my bases. Another check of our personal accounts and I saw that Brenda had transferred six grand out of our joint account, to a new one. She was in the Orlando area, from the look of the ATM charges. She was still using the card, not trying to hide.

I hadn't asked her to, and she didn't seem to mind leaving a trail behind. I guess she figured that if I wanted to find her I would. No emails, texts or phone calls from her since she'd left. Looks like she'd taken me seriously. Good. Nobody ever said she wasn't smart. A lying cheating whore maybe, but not dumb.

I considered cleaning her stuff out of the rooms, but I opted not to. When I reported her missing in a few days, I wanted it to appear that I was expecting her return.

* * *

Still no contact, no messages. She was gone. I used my key to get into Nick's place after he'd finished his cleaning appointment. It looked clean, but smelled bad. They had deodorizers all over the place. Made me smile. I reviewed the recording on the hidden cams, and hit pay-dirt in the bedroom. I had guessed correctly he couldn't resist one last VIP treatment. All I needed. I swapped out the cameras, and left long before he should be home.

Back home I checked out the video more carefully. There was Gail, entertaining Nick with her VIP services. Good picture, HD, faces very clear. No doubt, Gail was another slut, sucking and fucking on demand. I watched it twice, for the informational value only, you understand. I had to wonder if they both charged the same amount. Gail wasn't as attractive as my wife, nor did she seem to be as skilled. Those tits of hers though, something to be reckoned with. Overall, nothing to sneeze at. The equipment might have been a little pricey, but it worked damn well.

I had all I needed. Phase Five.

Private VPN service from an inexpensive used laptop, using a Starbucks network. Not perfect anonymity, but pretty good. I had my two newest corporations up and running, and completed the process of opening the Cayman Islands business accounts. Final banking step was to open an account in Switzerland.

The truth was, I had no idea if what I was doing would work. I'm not some financial wiz, but I'm a Googling pro. It only took a few minutes of research on the internet to understand how these foreign accounts operated. It took a few thousand to open each one, but I wasn't spending the money, just moving it around. Didn't cost me much more than a few hundred a year and that wouldn't be for long. I was putting a dent in my own accounts, fronting the money, but figured to get it back.

The Swiss account wasn't one of those famous numbered accounts. Nothing that fancy. A simple garden variety Swiss checking account, with all the privacy and protection that came along with it. I actually had to have a face-to-face video conference, and tell them where the money was coming from. I was honest, explaining it was from my own corporation. I told them I was looking to expand operations into Europe. I made the initial transfer, and I was set.

I felt I needed one more day for everything to come together. I was itching to pull the trigger, but convinced myself to wait. I didn't sleep well that night. Nervous and eager.

* * *

I got a call from Gail the next day, and wondered if I'd waited too long.

"Dave? Gail here. Have you heard anything from Brenda?"

"Not a peep," I told her honestly. Not that I ever expected to. "It does have me a little worried. I thought for sure she'd call when she got to her family's place."

"Me either. Nothing. It's not like her. Aren't you a little worried?"

"I'm starting to get that way. I could understand that things might be getting hectic out there, but three days without word? I'm going to call tonight and see what's going on."

"Did she...did she say anything about cleaning Nick's place?"

"Nothing. When I spoke to Nick, I thought he said he was going to have you over for the VIP service." I couldn't help myself. It was stupid to say, but I felt the urge to poke at her.

"Oh. He mentioned that? We did clean up. After the mess that some vandals made of his place. It looks like Brenda did a cleanup before she left. She never mentioned anything to me about it. You either?"

"No. We don't talk much about her day-to-day business. Is there a problem?"

"Not really. I mean, it does make things a little more difficult, not having her here."

I bet. You have to whore yourself twice as often? I tried to keep the anger out of my voice. "When I talk to her, I'll make sure to remind her to call you. If you hear from her, let me know, alright?"

"Ok. I'm just worried for her."

And getting a little sore, maybe? "Me too. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

After I hung up I knew I couldn't postpone things any longer. I called her family. It was a calculated risk, but I was pretty confident she would be keeping a low profile, at least for the moment. They confirmed that they hadn't heard from her, and expressed concern when I told them she'd left town, supposedly headed their way.

"Give me a call if you hear from her, please. I'm starting to get worried." I played the concerned husband the best I could.

I started the Final Phase. I transferred the money from their business account, into the first of the Nevada Corporations opened in her name, and paid for with her ATM card. All by anonymous VPN. I didn't take all of it, I left enough to cover the bills, so nothing would start bouncing yet.

After that, I erased her hard disk, removed it from the machine, and replaced it with a new pristine OS. The old drive was disassembled, the platter drilled, and the pieces scattered.

No turning back.

* * *

The next day, Thursday, was the riskiest, and I called in sick for few days. It was a long drive to the border, and it took me the better part of a day to get to El Paso, and into Mexico. About $1500 later, I was on a flight to Mexico City, and from there to the Caymans. I withdrew the money from one bank, and walked it over to the next, where I deposited it. I was a little paranoid about my shell game, and wore a ball-cap and sunglasses to disguise my look.