Cheating Wife - Spying Husband

Her brown pantsuit was on top in the bag. I removed it, and there was the black skirt, blouse and jacket that I saw her wearing on the street. I pushed that aside, and underneath it I discovered a long black bustier, complete with garters. It was a front zip, with stays all around and underwire push-up bra cups. I picked it up, and immediately smelled the perspiration from it. My hand went inside it, and I could feel the dampness in the fabric from her sweat. She must have gotten quite a workout, judging by how wet and smelly it was. Then I saw the black nylon stockings. I remembered her lover commenting about the stockings, and I guess the bustier was her little surprise for him. The black stockings were made of very sheer nylon, and I noticed some darkness around the thicker stocking tops where the garters attached. I felt the dark area, and it was wet and sticky. I brought it up to my nose, and

recognized the unmistakable smell of a man's cum. His juices must have run down her legs and onto the stocking tops.

Here I sat, in her closet, stunned, confronted by the undeniable physical evidence of her infidelity. I quickly regained my senses, realizing that she would be out of the shower very soon. I carefully put the items back in the bag, placed it back under the shoe shelf, and exited the closet. I just got back under the covers when I heard the water shut off.

I tried hard to get my pulse and respiration back to normal before she came out of the bathroom. Thank goodness that only the closet light was on, and not a bed lamp, or my flushed condition might have given me away. Anyway, she opened the bathroom door and walked back into her closet, wearing a towel. She changed into her cotton nightshirt, turned out the closet light and climbed into bed.

"Long day, good night, honey," she whispered as she rolled over and fluffed her pillow for sleep. I pretended to be asleep and said nothing in reply.

I felt sorry for myself. We hadn't had sex in two months, and when we did, it wasn't all that good. She wasn't much into foreplay, so she never really allowed herself to get her motor going. She wouldn't let me eat her (she said that was nasty) and wouldn't let me pet her or finger her until she was wet. Instead, she had me use lubricated condoms (I guess because she never did get very wet) and then just sort of laid there and allowed me to pump her until I came. The last few times, I even had to fake that, since it just wasn't working for me either. Yet, I had heard this same woman, not three hours ago, slamming her pussy up against a pair of pounding balls, and crying out with a crushing orgasm.

Where had we gone wrong? What have I failed to do to keep her? My overloaded brain forced me into a fitful night's sleep.

Chapter Six - The Interest Aroused

The next morning, it was as if nothing unusual had happened. I showered, dressed and left for work, leaving her still in bed. I was lucky to have another easy day at work, because I was totally distracted by the events of last night. When she called in mid-afternoon to say she would be working late again, I just said OK and see you later, like some sort of zombie. I left work early, since I wasn't getting anything done, and headed for home.

I got in the door, poured myself a drink, and sat down. After a few minutes, my curiosity got going again. I was wondering what she did with last night's clothes, and if there was any other evidence that I had yet to discover.

I headed to the closet, now more confident in what I might find there. I looked for the gym bag under the pile of sweats, and, yes, it was still there. I got it out, and opened it up. Inside, I found both pairs of high heels, and all of the lacy underwear that I had previously seen. All three teddies were now in there as well, so it looked as if she had time to do her wash since her trip. I looked up at her rack of suits, and pawed through her dry cleaning bagged items. There, carefully tucked away under a raincoat, was the little black dress, now cleaned and hung up. The short black skirt and coat she wore last night was also hung up there, mixed in with her other work clothes. Since all of the items seemed to be accounted for, I was assuming that tonight she really was working late tonight, and not off somewhere with "him".

I poked around a bit more, but did not find any other hiding places or unusual items. Finally, I turned toward the plastic storage keeper, where I knew her soiled clothes were hidden. I pulled it out, took a big breath and let out a sigh, knowing what I would find. I popped the cover and removed the bed sheets from the top of the pile again. There it was, the black bustier that I saw briefly last night when she got home. Next to it were the black nylon stockings as well. I took the bustier and stockings out, and brought them out, onto the bed, where I could see them better in the light from the window.

I examined the bustier, taking my time now, since Michele wasn't due home for several hours. It still smelled strongly of perspiration, and it was still damp on the inside. On the outside, in front, a few inches from the bottom, there was a large dark area. I felt it, and smelled it, and I knew at once that it was a cum stain. Up near the space right between the bra cups, there was yet another spot, and it, too, was easily identified as another cum stain. That bitch! She would never, EVER let

me cum on her when we made love! She said it was gross and nasty. Now, here was the proof that she not only permitted it, but must have encouraged it.

I looked next at the stockings, and spread them out across the bedspread. I could see the drip lines down the stockings, how his cum must have run down her legs as she stood up to take off the stockings and bustier. I had a sudden flash, and I went back in her closet to the hamper. Her volleyball uniform was there near the top, and right under it was a Lycra sports brief that she usually wore under the tight fitting volleyball shorts to firm up her tummy a little and look good in the shorts. I lifted the sports brief up and out of the hamper, and returned to the bed.

In the strong sunlight, I could see what I had feared I would find. In the crotch of the brief, which she wore home as a part of her volleyball uniform disguise after her tryst, was a large, sticky mass of cum.

Judging by the amount, the guy must have pumped her full of his seed more than once, and then it flowed out as she was driving home. I guess she didn't think to hide this brief, since she probably figured that any wetness might have dried up long before wash day, which was several days

away.

Looking at this cum-strewn mess, I found myself getting very aroused. I have always been interested in women's underwear. I follow the sales circulars in the Sunday paper to see the newest styles. I find myself sneaking a peek at a bra whenever I see a blouse gapping open at the buttons. I look at visible outlines of bras and panties through clothes and try to guess at the style and brand. I sometimes cruise through the lingerie section of a big department store and touch the fine fabric of lacy bras

and panties. In short, I have always had a "thing" for lingerie. And now, I was looking down at a provocative bustier and the matching stockings that clearly had been involved in a recent, very strong sexual encounter. I touched my hard cock through the fabric of my pants, and I felt a rush of hormones flood through my blood. What came over me next is something that I can't explain, but something that I suppose made sense, given these energy-charged circumstances, my extended period of Michele-imposed celibacy, and my fondness for fine lingerie.

I found myself getting out of my clothes, and standing next to the bed, naked. I need to add that Michele was a rather large and big-boned woman, and in many ways about the same size as me. I took the bustier and wrapped it around my chest. I started the zipper at the bottom, sucked in my tummy and chest, and pulled it up tight. I could feel the stays in the bustier holding tightly to my sides, chest and tummy. I could feel a little clammy chill from the dampness still inside the garment, and I could smell the strong, musky odor of her sweat (and his cum, I suppose) rising from the fabric.

Then, I sat down on the bed, and took up a stocking. Having had some experience with stockings and garters from previous girlfriends before I was married, I knew how to roll up the stocking until I could just get my toes into it, and then gently roll it all the way up my leg and thigh. It fit surprisingly well. After doing the same with the other stocking, I stood up, bent over as much as I could, and attached the garters. My cock at this point felt like it was made out of wood and standing straight up.

To complete the effect, I picked up the sports brief, bent over to slip it over my stocking-covered feet (not an easy thing to do in the bustier) and stepped into it. I pulled it up over the stockings, all the way up tight to my waist, and I could feel the wetness of "his" cum on the bottom of my balls.

I fell back onto the bed, on my back. I pushed the sports brief to one side and extracted my hard cock. All I could imagine at that point was how she must have felt, with him mounted on her, deep in her, pumping her pussy and slapping his groin into her hot clit. In my mind, I could still hear her crying out again, saying, "Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I had my cock firmly in my hands now, and I was stroking it like the madman I was. The sensory overload from the bustier and its stays, the nylon

stockings, the Lycra panty and the wet cum at the base of my balls drove me into a frenzy. I was breathing hard, getting dizzy. Then I exploded into my hand, and the cum shot out and over, onto the stockings. It was by far the most powerful orgasm that I had ever experienced in my life. I felt completely spent, and I just lay there, with my cum-covered hands still gripping my cock.

I came back to reality eventually, and looked over what I had just done. Instead of feeling guilty about wearing her clothes and using her infidelity as a stimulant, I felt like it was a payback for what she had

done to me, and I deserved the pleasure I got from it. I got up, went to the sink, and began to clean up after myself. I took off the sports brief, then the stockings, and then unzipped the bustier. I gathered it

all up and replaced it back in the plastic storage container where it belonged, except for the sports brief, which I returned to its place the hamper. Then, I took a long, hot shower and scrubbed myself all over in an attempt to cleanse myself of the pain of her cheating and her/his scent of sex.

Chapter Seven – The Observation Post

Afterwards, I was consumed with jealously and curiosity. I decided that I needed to learn more about what was going on, including the guy's name and the true extent of their relationship. I bought a telephone call recording device that activated every time the phone was off the hook. I also found the radio frequency for our cordless phone, so I could monitor her conversations in real time using my scanner. With this equipment in place, I was now ready to find out what I needed to know.

There were a few short calls, nothing of any substance, during the following week. I found out that he had a wife, so Michele couldn't call him and he could only call when he knew, from her intelligence info, when I wasn't home. Apparently, their last encounter was at his house when his wife was out of town. They weren't comfortable with just getting a room on the other side of town as an alternate location. That thought gave me an idea.

I inspected our house layout, and found that the storage closet in the back hall that backed up to the master bedroom could be turned into an excellent observation post with just a little handiwork. Since I was also competent in general home repair, it was not difficult for me to carefully remove a small section of the drywall in the storage closet, then locate a spot on the corresponding bedroom wall to create a small, hardly noticeable hole using the wallpaper pattern as camouflage. I

tested my modification, and found that I could see clearly all the way from the vanity to the bed and a bit beyond. The hole was in the shadows, sandwiched between two shelves of a large entertainment center that held the bedroom TV and stereo, plus a lot of miscellaneous decorating objects and mementos. Within the closet, I moved things around a bit to make a space big enough to sit comfortably on some of the storage containers. My observation post was ready, so now it was time to

start things into action.

When Michele came home that night , I announced that I had to go out of town next Wednesday for a short technical seminar. It was for two days, with an overnight stay. She said that the seminar sounded interesting, and hoped that I would have fun. I secretly hoped that she was thinking about her own fun instead.

Sure enough, on their next phone call, Jim (I now knew at least a first name) was told about my upcoming trip, and he jumped at the chance to come over and keep her company in my absence. They began to make their plans. While there were several calls over the next few days, it was a little hard to figure out their plan. I could almost follow the flow of their communication, but it was clear from the large gaps in information over the phone that they saw each other in person every day, most likely at work, where the real details were being worked out.

He did confirm that he was successful in getting a kitchen pass for next Wednesday night, and that he was excited about coming to her house and spending some extended quality time with her. He asked a couple of times if she was able to find any of the things he wanted, and she told him yes, but it would be a surprise, so she wouldn't disclose any more details. I wondered what that was all about, but I supposed I was going to find out soon enough.

I had placed some small tell-tales on the gym bag and plastic storage keeper, but neither was disturbed. This could only mean that they had not had a chance to get together since the last meeting, so they must

both be anxious, horny and ready for more. I requested the two days off to go to the seminar on my own time, and prepared a small travel bag to take on my "trip". It was now early Wednesday morning, and I headed out for the drive to the seminar, about five hours away. I woke her and gave her a kiss goodbye on the cheek, and told her I would see her Thursday night. She wished me a safe trip and went back to sleep.

Instead, I found a donut shop, got some coffee and rolls, then found a good safe spot on her way to work to stake out and watch for her passing car. Right on schedule, I saw her drive past, and I felt the plan was now in motion. I called her at work around mid-morning, and let her know that I "arrived" safely and was about to go into the first seminar session. This news should have put her mind at ease, and it did. I then went back to the house, and got set up for what was to come. I knew they had

planned for an afternoon rendezvous, so they could spend more than just the evening with each other. He was to park a few blocks from our home, in a nearby strip mall, and she was to drive by and pick him up. He would duck down below the dashboard so no neighbors would notice a passenger in the car and possibly say something to me later.

Their plan was to meet at 1 PM. It was now nearly noon. I had also parked my car several blocks away and walked home. I was in some comfortable clothes, and was well-hidden inside the storage closet, which was near the back door, which would allow for my silent escape afterwards. I had a drink of water available in case things went long, and I had just gone to the bathroom. I was ready.

Chapter Eight – The Preparations for Performance

About 12:10 PM, I heard the garage door open, and her car pull in. She was early for some reason. The car door shut, and I heard the kitchen door open and close. I heard her walk through the living room, on her way to the bedroom. I spotted her at once, and she was carrying a large shopping bag and a dress on a hanger. I put two and two together and assumed that she was going to change out of her boring, shapeless pantsuit and dress up for him again. She went to her closet and came out naked to the shower. I heard the water start, and it ran for a few minutes before it ended. She must have wanted to freshen up for their afternoon. After drying off and drying her hair, she did something I had never seen her do before. She sat down on her vanity chair and applied makeup. Normally, she wore no makeup, not even lipstick, to work or in general. Now, here she was putting on mascara, eye shadow, foundation, blush and lipstick, not for me, but for this "Jim" fellow. I was upset by this, but it helped me to understand where her brain was at.

Next she walked over to the bed and took some items out of the large bag The first item made my eyes pop out. It was a white, high-waisted, long-leg panty girdle. It had a side zipper and looked like it was pretty heavy duty and firm control. The amazing thing about this was that she had never worn a control foundation before (she said it was old-fashioned and dated), and even expressed her dislike of the sport brief she wore under her volleyball shorts. Clearly this was Jim's idea, his fantasy, and she was going to satisfy it regardless of her preference. She kneeled over and stepped into the girdle, struggling to pull it over her backside and all the way up to her waist. She did up a series of hooks on the side, then grasped the zipper firmly, let out a big breath, and pulled it up. It really fit tightly, and she now had

something of a waist curve where her big-boned body had previously been fairly straight up and down.

She gave out a "Whew!", and reached into the bag again. She pulled out a stocking package and opened it. She took out a pair of white thigh high stockings, and rolled one onto her foot and pulled it up. She folded the long leg cuff of the panty girdle up and back, and finished pulling the stocking all the way up her thigh. Then she rolled the panty girdle leg back down over the stocking top to hold it in place. She did the same with the other leg, and she was now partly dressed. Next out of the bag

was a lacy, long line strapless bra. She sat down on the bed, leaned forward, placed her breasts into it, then reached around back and started doing up the several hooks in back. It took her a minute or so to

complete this task, and then she lay back on the bed to rest a minute. It was about 12:30 now, as she glanced at the clock on the night stand.

She lay there for another minute, then cupped her breasts and felt along the smooth, curvy front that the combination of the long line bra and tight girdle had made. Then, her hands wandered down to her crotch. She fiddled there for a few seconds, fingering herself, and I could see (what

a view I had!) that the girdle had a split crotch, with two overlapping flaps that could be opened by hand. I suppose that was to allow a woman to pee without the chore of undressing. Anyway, she kept on fingering herself through the opening, and let out a little moan. Suddenly, she stopped and stood up, then kneeled over her side of the bed and reached underneath. She took out a plastic storage box, opened it, and pushed aside some winter clothes that were on top. She took out a long, medium thickness chrome vibrator and a tube of what looked like K-Y jelly. She put a little lubricant on the vibrator tip, lay back down on the bed, and turned it on. I could hear the gentle humming as she worked it around the outside of her vagina, then slid it in. Clearly, the crotch opening was big enough to allow a vibrator, or a hard cock, to penetrate her. I suppose this was a trial run, a little warm up. She worked it in and out for a few more seconds, then withdrew it and sat up. She was flushed and her breath was a little heavy. Using a tissue from the night stand, she wiped off the vibrator and put it back under the bed. I made a mental note to check out this new stash location later.