I Lost Control of the Marriage

The next day I went into the bedroom to get dressed and found the door unlocked. Karen was still sleeping as I brushed my teeth, dressed, and went to work. I have a friend in Grace Chang. She's in charge of the computer systems where I work as a field service tech. I brought her a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair beside her desk. I was moaning to her about Roland and my wife, asking what to do.

"Ha! Been there, done that! About 8-10 months ago, I thought my husband was stepping out too. Like you, I had no access to his emails at work and didn't have a clue as to who he might be sleeping with. I bought a transponder, actually two, because he has a car and a truck. I was able to track where he went by logging on to the internet. I did this for three weeks. He seemed to be driving around aimlessly. What the fuck, I thought. On my birthday, he gave me a lovely antique dressing mirror. Turns out he had been going to antique shops all over the place. What an idiot I was."

"Grace, I think Roland is trying to put the horns on me and getting to her by selling her a sob story. And I'm truly afraid my wife is falling for it."

"Don't be silly! Karen seems like a good person. Look, I still have the transponders and the software. Bring your laptop in tomorrow. I'll load the software into it. You can borrow the transponders for as long as you want. Put one on Roland's car,one on your wife's and you can track 'em wherever they go. It's easy."

"Well Grace, that's a way forward, isn't it? Karen has a certain innocence and a sympathetic nature so it could be good hearted on her part, except for Roland. I smell smoke for sure. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Let's do it!"

After work, I stopped by a spy store and picked up a clock radio with built in color camera and microphone that would broadcast in a 500 ft radius. It even came with software to record the signal on a laptop and edit the audio/video. I really had no plan. I just thought pictures are worth a thousand words, and they would probably be useful at some point. I was also thinking that if I had trouble with the program, Grace could work it out.

I needn't have worried. I followed the directions and it worked fine. The little camera transmitted both sound and picture of a television in my living room onto a computer well over 1000 feet away. The picture was a little grainy, but the sound was great.

The next day, Grace programmed my computer to pick up the transponders. The stuff looked good. Accurate to about 20 yards, it projected a little car on map, complete with restaurants, hotels, and other attractions right around them. By clicking on Google earth, I could see the area.

I needed to know when Roland would be in the office, but I was worried about caller ID. Since I have a distinctive voice, I had a friend call the Wilmington office of Bycatch industries and ask the receptionist if Roland would be available mid to late afternoon. She was very concerned that he was in an important meeting from two o'clock until four and only had a half hour free before he was to meet with Flemming somebody or another at 4:30. My friend said he'd try him another day.

Good to go! I left work at noon and drove to Wilmington. No security in the parking lot as far as I could see. You can't miss a yellow Hummer! I wonder if he drives down the street, pretending that he's a real man driving to Fallujah (Iraq) dodging roadside bombs? I stuck the transponder where the directions said would give the best signal and found a hot wire to tap it into. I checked my computer before I left the parking lot, and Hooray! There's the icon for the yellow tub. I headed on home. That evening I put the other one on Wifie's car.

Watching the damn things was a problem with my job. I'm not normally near an internet connection. Much of the time, I'll know where they went after they went and gone! On the way home I called Natalie Waskie at Bycatch.

"Natalie, this is Chris Harlow. Have you got a couple of minutes for me?"

"Why certainly, Sir. May I have your contact information please. Good. Now, how can I help you?"

"Good that you are discrete, Natalie. Shouldn't want this to be office gossip."

"Quite right, Sir."

"Look, Roland may be a problem for me. I certainly don't want to put you in the uncomfortable position of being my wife's keeper, but I thought that simply calling me when you know Rolland will be up to Princeton might be a reasonable thing to ask."

"Of course, we could, Sir, but are you sure that it wouldn't create even more, perhaps widespread problems?"

"Absolutely not. You have my word that I will neither assault, nor blacken the reputation of Roland, or for that matter Karen. Well, I probably would tell his wife if something happened between them. Just so both families are on an equal footing, so to speak. There is no point in mentioning your role in any of this. If you phone me from someone else's phone, your contribution would be absolutely untraceable."

"Oh, excellent. Those were just the things I had in mind. Let me get the information you've requested and I'll get back to you. Thank you for calling Bycatch. Good day."

When Wifey came in, I had a nice dinner on the table. She was coldly civil to me. When she retreated to the bedroom to do crossword puzzles after dinner, I put the other transponder on her car.

Sure enough, I went on the internet, and there was an area map with a red "#1 and a #2 for each of the cars. Throughout the day over the next week, I checked the two cars every time I went by a chain coffee shop with wifi. Nothing relevant.

On Wednesday, Natalie called to say that the shipment would be in tomorrow morning. Thursday morning, Wifey went to work and Roland drove non-stop to Bycatch Industries in Princeton. Roland's car went out at lunch time but returned an hour later. It took some digging, but looked as though he went to the Smoking Pig Barbeque restaurant. At least when I searched for restaurants on Cottage Street, that was the only restaurant for about three blocks around. Wifey likes Barbeque, but that's no proof she went out with him. I didn't know for certain until Natalie called and said they had a 1 hour lunch at the smoking pig before hanging up.

Things had calmed down a little around the house over the past week. That evening, Wifey came home right on time, more or less her old self. After supper we did the "How was your day" conversation. Amidst the chitchat, she claimed she ate lunch in the cafeteria, having chicken salad with cottage cheese with a couple of other women she hung out with.

"What, you didn't have barbeque?" asked I.

She went orbital. "What are you trying to say? Are you calling me a liar? What makes you think I had Barbeque?"

"Well, what's that drop of brownish red on the pocket of your blouse? Too dark for Ketchup, too thick for wine, so...Smoking Pig barbeque sauce! And you like barbeque, so where did the dribble come from? I say, Dr Watson, has Sherlock Holmes discovered a mystery?"

"No, it's just a spot on my shirt." But her face was frowning as she picked at the spot.

"Well, more like a spot on your honesty. You lied about going out for lunch, didn't you? You and Roland went out to that Barbeque place for lunch and you're lying about it. I am serious here. I will not have you sneaking around behind my back, sinking our marriage, god damn it."

"What in god's name makes you think of Roland all the time? If I get a flat tire on the way home, you'd blame it on Roland! You can't tell me who to see and not see! I won't give you that power over me."

"I'm right, aren't I? If you claim no, I can call Phyllis at Bycatch and ask her, you know." She hated Phyllis.

"All right, all right but all I did was go to lunch with him. Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen. How did you know? Did someone from work see us?"

"The innocent need not worry. Nobody ratted you out, just deductive logic. That you would lie to me is a very bad sign, Karen. But you're right, love, that I can't make you behave. Lincoln freed the slaves! Ultimately we are both free to do what we wish. If you really want Roland instead of me, then I won't stand in your way. Frankly, given your attitude of late, if it wasn't him, it would be somebody else some other time."

"Look! Lay off god dam Roland. And if you are having me followed, then fuck off. You're wasting your money. I resent you treating me like a child, and trying to tell me who I can talk to and all. You're obsessed with Roland and trying to control me. You're sick!"

"Nonsense! Of the three hundred million people in this country and in the five years we have known each other, Roland is the only person I have warned you about. I am not trying to control you. I'm telling you the consequences of following along the path you're going. If you do not act like a married person and make the concessions necessary to be a married person, you aren't going to be a married person. Simple as that. Look! I told you not to be alone with him and you went out to lunch with him Worse yet you lied about it so you're on notice! Frankly, I feel hurt that you would do this, and a bit fearful of the future. I really don't think I'm being unreasonable here."

"Well, you are being unreasonable. I am not jumping into bed with him. I'm just helping him over some rough spots."

"Look, maybe we're too involved with this to be impartial. Let's call your sister and have her offer an opinion of who is reasonable and who is not."

"She always takes your side. Forget about her! I'm a big girl and I know what I'm doing."

I pondered a long while. I was hurt. I felt my wife deliberately was sticking a knife in me and I wanted revenge. If I had some pictures of the two of them diddling away, or even of Wifey alone but in a context where she would have been with Roland, I could poison the well.

Best prepare for the worst. I stopped at a lawyer's office and bought a divorce kit of all things. They threw in a will kit for free. The bad news was that I would have to sell the house to pay off her share. The place appreciated because of the enormous sweat equity I put in it and the fact that property values in the neighborhood were going sky high. We had maybe $15,000 in savings and equity in the cars, but about $150,000 of equity in the house. Karen would get half.

That didn't seem right, as the majority of our income was from me. I needed to think about that. I filled out the papers and stuffed them in an envelope. It was easy. I filled out the will kit while I was at it. I left my estate half to my parents and half to the Boy Scouts. I put it with my work stuff until I could get it witnessed. I picked up a new lock for the front door, but didn't get a chance to install it. I rummaged until I found the instructions to the garage door opener and looked up how to change the code.

Nothing of interest showed on the tracking screen the following week, nor the week after. On Wednesday of the third week, a day when I was in North Jersey, I stopped by a Paniteria where they have free WIFI. I logged on, saw Roland had driven to Princeton that morning, but stopped at 8:30 AM for eleven minutes. The location was an off ramp on I95 about a ten minute drive from Bycatch. It could have been anything, but there is a Holiday Inn Express and a Sleep Inn right there. I called the Sleep Inn and asked for Roland St Clair. No such person. I dialed the number for the Holiday Inn. When they transferred me to a room, I hung up before it went through.

I made my excuses to the client and headed down to Princeton. At 10:30, the lobby was empty. I rang the desk and a lad came out in a poorly pressed white shirt, scuffed shoes, and black slacks that hadn't seen an iron ever. I told him I was Roland St Clair and said I locked myself out and forgotten my room number. He was about to give me shit when I slipped him a fan of five $20 bills.

"Yes, sir, I remember you, Mr. St Clair." A bit of rustling behind the desk, and with a wink. "Here you are, Mr. St Clair. Room 114."

I went up and set up the clock radio where it would have a good view of the bed, and pocketed the hotel's clock. I checked the reception and it worked just fine. I used the hotel's WIFI to check where they were. Shit! Rolland was about 3 miles away. And I'd thought they would have lunch first! I hustled out, got in my car, and drove into the Denney's across the street. A few minutes later, the yellow Hummer pulled into the Holiday Inn parking lot.

No video reception from here. Or maybe it has a motion sensor and wasn't sending out a signal. I really should have read directionsmore than once. I forget if it does or doesn't. I gave them two minutes, drove over to the hotel, and parked just around the corner from room 313 so if they looked out the window, I would be out of sight. Beautiful reception! She came out of the bathroom, still dressed, to embrace a fully dressed Roland. Roman hands everywhere, until Roland sat on the bed and said, "I'd like you to undress for me."

She smiled with lust in her eye and mauled her tits with both hands. Her left hand slid up her neck to her hair, while her other hand slowly unbuttoned her blouse, showing a very nice lace bra. Preserving the disheveled look, she stood and crossed her legs in false modesty slowly unzipping her skirt. Rather than letting it drop, she reached for the waistband and slowly pulled the dress up, exposing her thighs and a lace thong. The skirt went higher and a nice belly emerged followed by her bra clad tits as she lifted it over her head.

"Oh, Karen, you're breathtaking! God, your legs are to die for. And you did shave your pussy for me. It's still covered, but looks lovely. Turn around."

Wifey displayed herself for that asshole, bending over a bit and wiggling her ass. I had a view of her face, blouse undone, breasts sagging against the bra as she told him, "My husband will be pissed that I did it. He likes a furry snatch."

"What will you tell him? That you did it to please your lover?"

"Something like that. I'll tell him that I did it to surprise him. That he might like it this way. He'll be so grateful to get a piece, I doubt if he really cares."

I dialed her cell phone and heard it ring in her purse. She didn't even glance at it. I turned the sound down on the computer, and left a message, struggling to keep my voice from choking. "Hello, my love. I was sitting here having a vision of you nearly naked, lusting for sex, and thought I would call to tell you what an active imagination I have. See you later."

She reached behind her and unsnapped the bra. She turned to the camera, back to Roland, and flashed her tits as she slid one arm out of her blouse, slipped the bra strap off, and the blouse back on. She turned around to Roland, presumably gave a bit of a flash, and back around to do the same with the other arm. This time she backed up to Roland. While I was treated to her bra dropping to the floor and the sight of her hard nipples, his hand slid between her legs, and began toying with her thong.

"I love your ass. It's truly lovely, and my hand is in such a nice warm, moist place."

"Ahha!" said Wifey with a wiggle and an open mouth. That turned into a front to back swaying as she rubbed herself on his hand. Nothing was said, but the hand started moving up and down as well. I assumed he was thumb fucking her. I could see his fingers had pushed her thong to one side. She fastened the lower buttons of her blouse, and after a moment or two, she moved towards the camera, sliding off his hand, and turned about to face him.

Roland had his thumb under his nose. "You smell divine, absolutely intoxicating."

The blouse slid off one shoulder, down the arm, exposing a breast. I think she was playing with it because she stood there for a bit with her arm moving. Then she slid the blouse over her other shoulder until both sides hung on her fore arms, both breasts were on display for her lover. She stepped toward Roland, who slid her thong down, leaving it around her ankles. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. He was fully clothed; she was naked, in classic submission. His hands rubbed her back and forth against his body, until she lifted one leg to press herself against him.

"Suck me baby," he commanded as he gently but insistently pushed her shoulders down. She kneeled on an angle to him and rubbed her face against the crotch of his trousers.

"There's something big and hard in there. isn't there, my stud?"

She unzipped him and fished his cock out of the pants. There she knelt, worshiping another man's cock, sliding in and out of her mouth. Roland unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his pants. Wifey slipped his dick out of her mouth long enough to push his boxers down.

Roland pulled her to her feet as kicked his shoes off and said, "You need a good fucking. Get on the bed and let me see that naked pussy."

She scrambled up, lay back with her knees up and opened wide.

Roland climbed on the bed and began fondling her tits."Ah what lovely tits you have. Those nipples are hard for me, aren't they?"

"They've been hard all morning. I've been waiting for you to suck them like this."

Within a couple of minutes, he was fucking her right and proper- several deep plunges before pulling completely out, followed by poking just the head of his dick in and out. Wifey was riding hard. They went on for about an hour and a half. Roland had shot one load down her throat and two in the cunt.

I had it on my computer and had had enough watching them. Now for payback. I headed home, sat down, and hooked up to the internet. I wanted to somewhat obscure Wifey's face, so I could pretend I didn't recognize her in her porn debut. I took a while to figure out what software I needed to do that, but in the end I figured it out. I went to one of those amateur websites where you can post pictures and videos. I created a phony ID, RStC, and a disposable email address.

Using the phony ID, I could post the video clip, together with some comments. I gave a lot of thought to the alleged photographer's comments, because I wanted Roland to clearly be exploiting Wifey. I settled on; "Here's a lovely cunt I'm just breaking in. Her husband is sure I'm fucking her, but it's killing him, cause he can't prove it. Keep watch on the website. In a month or so, I'll introduce some of my friends to her body and take some more videos. You'll have to pay to see those in the hardcore section, but she's worth it!"

Of course the chance that Wifey would ever see the website without me guiding her to it is nil. The plan was for me to use some of the words and commands that Roland used on Wifey. She may ignore the first one or two, but sooner or later she'll realize where she heard those words before and get scared. At first I'll say I saw them watching some porn website. I'll let her badger me, and then, oh so reluctantly, I'll agree to show her the site. That ought to take care of Roland.

She was a little late coming home, but frankly looked and acted normal. Perhaps even a little depressed. I had a salad, Chicken Scallopinni with roasted Italian vegetables on the table.

"Well, love, you had a pleasant afternoon, didn't you?" She had an alarmed look on her face.

"Well, the sexy message you left on my cell phone was very nice to receive. But other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. I am completely all in. If you still have romantic intentions, they'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"Ah that. Well actually, it's the way you walk and move, kind of languid or perhaps lubricated. Oh and you smell different. I can't place the smell, kind of like lavender soap and some sort of musk. Did you stop for drinks?"

She had a bit of a flush on her cheeks. "Nope. I came home straight from work."