Betrayed

"Oh his name is 'Bounty', or something like that," answered Timothy. "He also works at a local gym and often takes people for private lessons at their homes. That's what I would like to be when I become an adult. Mum really enjoys being with him for her exercises. On Friday nights, she is really relaxed and seems to be glowing by the time we get home. It's great. It's always take-out night because mum rarely has time to cook a meal on Fridays."

"No way!" I thought. "This Bonty character is doing this to more people than just my wife!"

I escorted Timothy back to his car where his mum proclaimed loudly how grateful she was for our concern. "No probs," I said. "Just part of the service. By the way I haven't met you before. My name is Gerard Downs. All the kids call me 'Mr D' for short. Pleased to meat you."

I shook her hand and she replied, "Hi. Mrs, oops, now Miss Jones. Mary Jones."

"I remember seeing you at the gym last Thursday. I came with my wife Terri. Sorry, but she seemed a bit rushed when leaving. Mr Bonty's absence seems to have messed everyone up that night." At this point her whole demeanour changed drastically. While before she was just an apologetic late parent picking her child up from school, she now instantly became pale and guarded.

She was almost shaking. "Umm. Yes. Ok. I will see you again Mr Downs. Bye!" and drove off.

"Wow!" I thought. "What gives here. Is our asshole Phil doing someone else as well? I do admire the stamina of the man, but that doesn't detract from the pure unadulterated fact that he was an absolute bastard." Now, I am not a prude who judges everyone on the basis of their sexual behaviour. Far from it. What happens between two, or more, consenting adults is entirely up to them. However, when one of the adults is supposedly married, there is a line which should not be crossed. If a married person feels the need to have sex with someone other than their spouse, they should be discussing either separation, or open marriage with that spouse! To not do that is low. The lowest of the low. For a single person to willingly and knowingly engage with a married person, well, that is just not right in my book.

Time to plan my future, something I thought I had done in consultation of my then sweetheart, Terri. This future looked bleak. It only featured me, by myself, without Terri definitely, but maybe also, without anyone.

My anger allowed me to travel down a road I never thought I would explore. The path of revenge.

I started to take stock of all the important little details which get hidden in the everyday life of a couple. Who pays the bills? What insurance company are we with? When do we pay our utility bills? Which account does this or that bill get paid from and when? Etc, etc, etc! My database of all of this info started to grow.

I found that we had a only a small amount to pay off our mortgage and that my superannuation account had built up to a staggering $900 000! "Thank god for our teacher's union which insisted that compulsory super contributions should be part of a teacher's basic conditions of employment!

I figured, after reading the topic as much on the internet as possible, without Terri knowing, that there was no way that I could escape the fact that all of our assets had to be split evenly. Our children were no longer dependant on us. We did have quite a bit saved in a cash account, ready for a planned overseas trip. About $30 000. That trip would not be happening now. I decided my first act would be to deplete that account as fast as possible before Terri got wind of the fact that I had discovered her betrayal.

I surreptitiously made many of the appliances in our house suddenly not work. A disconnected wire here, etc. While she was not at home, I would always say the Mr so-and-so came to fix the said appliance and that he charged $such-and-such and that he did it for cash for a little less. This cash I would secret away and then 'fix' the appliance. Using this method, I had managed to secret about $20 000 away. I had also bought tools, etc, always with cash, showed them to Terri and then returned the tools the next day for a cash refund. Nasty and deceitful I know, but the values of honesty and trustworthiness had already disappeared from our relationship because of Terri's actions. The whole scenario was turning me into something I never thought I could be. A liar!

Terri's Thursday afternoon workouts with Bonty continued. I no longer even tried to maintain a sexual relationship with Terri. We just lived together as two housemates would. My personal items slowly started to disappear into boxes into the garage. Terri never really went into the garage, so the rearrangement wasn't noticed. Her car was usually just parked in front of it. She was content to leave the garage as my turf. Once, she questioned the fact that some of my personal stuff was not on the shelves anymore. I just put it off, saying, that I broke it by mistake, or that I didn't really want it anymore. She seemed happy with these responses, mainly because, most of my things did not really match Terri's colour scheme, or what she wanted the room to feel like. When most of my stuff was in that manner away, it really didn't make much difference in the house. It made me realise how much I had relented to allow Terri to dominate much of our existence.

I withdrew all of the superannuation which I could and bought a small house, a VERY small house on the outskirts of the town. It only had two bedrooms and a small yard, but it had a garage and was near enough to the school that I worked at. The good part was that the balance of the mortgage was such that I could easily manage the repayments, even on half of my salary. This was not a mansion! It is amazing what a bargain is to be had if only we didn't all want to be in glitzy, popular suburbs. My separation was in motion! I gradually brought my personal items into the new house. Furniture was not an issue, as I could easily pick up second-hand, or pre-loved items at charity shops. That was what my life felt like: pre-loved. Loved once, but now forgotten and reliant on charity to have any value!

It was time for the players to get their just rewards.

I edited the footage which I had of Terri and Phil. Minus the sound. What they were saying to each other was just too painful. At one point, I heard that asshole, Phil, refer to me as 'that sucker'. Terri didn't disagree, but to her credit she did flinch slightly. She knew that what she was doing was wrong and her guilt manifested itself often in subtle ways. After each Thursday session with her lover, she tried to instigate some form of sexual liaison with me, on Friday of course as she probably needed her swollen cunt to recover! but I just couldn't comply. My heart and libido were as cold as ice. I don't think she remembered how to start getting me in the mood anymore, so she soon gave up. Sex was usually at my instigation and hardly ever because of any advances from her. In her mind it was obviously ok for her to respond to a horny husband, but not ok to actually admit to being horny herself and to project this need to her husband. OK, so maybe some of the fault was mine also! Still, I didn't go elsewhere to get my rocks off. The complete change I had seen in Terri often left me speechless. I would often find myself just shaking my head and staring at nothing in particular. I could have taken that ride of sexual freedom and experimentation along with her instead of being left outside by her betrayal and subterfuge!

It was about this time that I again had contact with Mary Jones. This time, she was the one who initiated contact. I will always remember it. Again. it was at pick up after school. She was the last parent to come, so I was on my own with Timothy, her son, waiting for her to arrive. When she did, she looked around and I could also see that she was very nervous and looked like she was crying recently. Teachers notice these things as it often points to what is happening in students' lives and gives us a clue about how to help those kids learn better.

"Mr D, can I see you for a minute?" she asked nervously.

"Sure. No one is coming, so just stay parked there and come over to my office," I replied. I always referred the benches around the school as, 'my office'. She parked, Timothy played with his soccer ball and we sat together on the bench near the pickup area.

"I don't know how to start what I want to tell you," she began. "I don't know how much you know about the gym that you saw me in."

I stared at her directly, eyeball to eyeball. "I know that Terri, my wife, loves going there and that it has really helped her keep fit and active," I cautiously replied.

"There are things you need to know about what goes on there," she continued. I could tell that she was tearing up and finding it very difficult to speak.

"Does it have something to do with Philip Bonty?" I asked, attempting to get her to the point as quickly as possible.

"

You have no idea how much it has to do with that pig!" she stated vehemently.

"I think I may know, but tell me what you wanted to tell me," I encouraged.

"Well," she continued more confidently, "He is a player. His only reason for being there is to sleep with as many of the regular women there as possible."

"How do you know this?" I enquired.

"Because I was one of them!" she blurted out tearfully. "The only reason I am telling you this is because I have come to realise who and more importantly, what he is. Up until a week ago, we had a regular sexual relationship. He would come to my place each Friday at about 12:30 and we would go at it like rabbits on Viagra! Don't get me wrong. He was a master. He knew exactly how to get all of my bells ringing!" At this point, she stared out to the sky wistfully, as if reliving one of those past sessions. I also stared out, but for a different reason. I was also remembering his 'sessions', but not wistfully! "Sorry!" she continued. "I really liked what he was doing to me while it lasted. It was only when he had someone else for that time slot that he dropped me like a sack of potatoes. No reason, just, sorry, no more. I actually thought that we might have a future. I am divorced and have missed the regular loving of a marriage relationship and was really looking forward to living that again, but this time with him. How wrong I was!"

I was flabbergasted! How the fuck did this woman feel it was ok to share all of this with me! She must be really pissed off!

"Marriage relationships aren't always what we think," I replied, a little too quickly. She looked into my face and saw the hurt and agony there.

"You already know, don't you?" she asked slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. "You already know that he has been having it off with Terri, your wife!"

"Yes, I knew Mary. Thank you for sharing this," failing miserably at keeping the venom out of my voice. "But I already have a swing in motion about the whole situation. I really believe in karma and I think that it might manifest itself soon."

"That bastard has to pay!" Mary almost yelled. "He has no care about who or how he hurts, just to satisfy some sexual prowess. Something he can brag about to all of his mates at the pub. If you want me to help you get back at him, let me know. That bastard has to pay and pay dearly!" she repeated.

She called her son over and left. I sat there for quite a while in thought.

I was almost relieved that Mary had shared that with me. For a while there, my plan for revenge just seemed like sour grapes on my part for not being able to maintain my marriage. This needed more thought. I wondered how many more women he was involving from the gym. It was time to get some facts together. I couldn't help but admire the man's stamina, but I guess even the devil never gets tired!

I learned that he worked there every day except Monday, which is when the gym was closed. I remembered the phone number listed on the wall at the gym. Using the telcom's white pages, I back tracked the number to an address, not more than three blocks away from our own address. No wonder that dickwad could walk to our place to screw the shit out of my wife, soon to be ex-wife! I informed Terri that I would be going for a walk each day at about 5pm. I told her that it was my diabetes specialist who insisted that I do it. Luckily, Terri didn't want to tag along and she knew that it would not interfere with her trysts, so it all went smoothly. In the first evening walk, I made straight for Bonty's address and saw that he lived in a ground-floor apartment in a block of several of these apartments. His car wasn't there so I waited nearby to see when he arrived. He was always away from our house well before 6, so I guess it would be routine for him to arrive about that time. Bang on, he walked into his apartment just before six. This happened each day that I could walk, except for my staff meeting day which was when I couldn't walk.

I figured that he did this each day that the gym was open. Did he have a woman to screw each of these days? I was again amazed at his staying power. "This man must be a sexual god!" I thought. 'God' is probably not an appropriate word, given that it implies goodness. Maybe 'demon' is more fitting! I intended to find out if he was visiting other women. My walks became earlier and earlier just to see when and where he was going each day.

I decided to take a whole week off school for just that purpose. Luckily, being a diabetic and having been one for quite a few years, it was easy to get a sick certificate from my doctor. I visited an electronics store and bought what I needed. A long-range listening device, one of those discreet ones, not the one that looks like a satellite dish. Voice and motion activated cameras, full colour HD ones. I bought 5 of those. An extra portable hard drive for my computer. I had to store all of the digital evidence somewhere!

Monday, after purchasing the desired items, I installed one of the cameras in Bonty's apartment. Luckily, it wasn't that big really. More like a one bedroom apartment with a large living and kitchen dining area. One camera was enough to cover everything except his bedroom. Getting it in there was easy. I just waited til he went to the gym and got his apartment keys from where he left them, under the doormat! The idiot couldn't even be more creative than that! After checking to make sure that the camera worked, I left. Now whenever he moved or made a noise in his apartment, the camera, with microphone, would activate and send all of the video and audio live to stream on my computer where it would also be stored with date stamps.

It started working as soon as dickweed Bonty arrived back home on Monday night. There was very good footage of him eating a take-out meal in front of his tv before he went to bed at about 9pm.

Tuesday, I waited until the gym closed and broke in through the back door. This was the one which is often neglected in the pre-close check in most stores. I was lucky! I placed the next camera in the private room near the back where clients come for personal health appraisals. The one where Bonty often took his private clients. What sort of man had I become? Cameras in other people's places. Spying? Where would this end?

Wednesday I waited until Terri went out for groceries and placed the third and fourth cameras in our bedroom and in our living area. I reviewed the footage from Tuesday and was surprised by what I saw and heard, but not really, considering the context. Bonty woke up and immediately went out. He came back later with breakfast. "Lazy bastard can't even make breakfast for himself!" I thought. Then I remembered his sexual prowess and had to rebuke myself. This man was indeed a sexual machine! He must be doing something right physically to maintain what he seemed to be doing. He stayed home until the gym opened and was out of there at 10:30. He did make one phone call which was interesting.

"Julie? Hi it's Phil. Is he gone yet? (... pause... ) OK. See you at 12:30. Your place. Make sure to wear what I said. No, I will be careful. No one will see me enter your place. Did you say he was going for three days? Ok. Maybe I can come on Thursday and Friday as well. Talk this afternoon lover." With that he hung up and left with a definite spring in his step.

I wondered how he would explain that one to Terri?

Thursday I took myself down to the garage with my computer and waited for the fun to start. Almost immediately Bonty's camera streamed to my screen. He had awoken and after going out for his breakfast again, he returned and dialled. It was Terri's phone. The cameras streamed her side of the conversation as well. This spy shit was invigorating! "Hey. It's Phil. How's my favourite slut feeling today? More to the point, how is your pussy feeling? Does it need Dr Phil to attend to any itches?"

"Phil don't talk like that on the phone. You never know who could be listening. Luckily, my lame husband has gone to work. I really, really need that big cock of yours to come and put out the fire in my pussy. Oops, now who's talking dirty?" she giggled. "See you at 12:30 as usual?"

"Of course," replied Phil. "I may have a surprise for you. Are you up to something different?" He waited. I could sense and see that Terri hesitated for only a couple of seconds before answering. "Anything! Can't wait!" and both hung up.

"What was that about?" I wondered.

10:30 saw Bonty head off to the gym. The camera in his private room activated shortly after. It showed him sitting on his desk with an attractive lady sitting down in front of him. "So, Mrs White. May I call you Joan? You want to have a more one-to-one session for your exercises. Is the program we have designed for you not meeting your needs anymore?" he questioned.

"Well yes and no," answered Joan coyly. "My body is becoming much more fit. I can feel it improving every day. Unfortunately, this extra fitness and stamina is producing too may hormones, if you get my meaning. I haven't felt so, vital, in years."

"I know what you mean, Joan," said Bonty. Even through the audio of the hidden camera, I could almost hear the lust in his voice. "Let me see what I can do," he continued. "Please stand here." Joan stood and caught her breath with a short loud intake as he placed his hands firmly on her hips. "Turn around," he commanded. She did and her eyes were hooded in anticipation of what he might do next. Not being able to see him directly, as he was now behind her, added to the nervous tension she was feeling. He did not disappoint her. He slowly, but firmly, ran his open hands down her hips and in over her upper legs towards her groin. She hissed slightly and her tongue darted between her teeth. He continued, prolonging the torture for her. His hands just brushed the panty line visible through her leotards and met again between her legs, lightly rubbing her inner upper legs. His hands then seemed to be all over her. From her knees to her shoulders, he roamed with his hands. He knew what he was doing. He had been down that road many a time and the art of making a woman feel good was his trade. He then moved to her front. He slid his hands around to her stomach and down to her panty line again, but never directly touching her crotch area. He moved upwards, feeling that smooth area of weight and promise underneath her tits which were held in place by the inevitable sports bra. Up and over to her shoulders again and up her neck to her chin and then around to the area just under her ears. By this time Joan was beside herself. She expected that this would happen, but the reality of it far exceeded the anticipation she had felt. The other ladies in the gym had hinted that he was a player and would eagerly satisfy the need that they may have for extra 'tuition'.