I Don't Know Much

I snapped out of it in time to see Jerry walking away. His parting words were, "You poor bastard."

I looked across the room to where Stacey had been standing talking to the bald fuck. She looked up and saw me and smiled. I smiled back and tried to hide the rancor in my thoughts. All evening long I found myself making sure she was in visual range.

At one point I looked around and couldn't find her, nor could I see Sanders. I was about to go looking when she and several of the cheer squad came in from the direction of the bathrooms. Sanders entered a few minutes later from a different area of the hotel.

"You look like a guy who's ready to go postal Freddy. What gives?"

I turned to find Jenny Davis, my former boss' secretary. She was married to one of Stacey's classmates.

"Oh, hi Jenny. Some asshole has been making google eyes at Stacey all night long."

"I wouldn't worry Freddy. She loves you and wouldn't step out on you. Trust me darling."

Maybe she was right, but my mind kept going back to the whole "again" thing and the look of pity on Jerry's face when he pointed Sanders out to me. I was more than happy when the night came to an end.

The ride home was quiet. Stacey's thoughts were elsewhere so I inquired as to whom the shiny headed individual was who seemed hell bent on monopolizing her time was. "Oh, that was Don. We were friends in school." Nothing more was said during the ride home.

When we got home, Stacey grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs to our bed room. She undressed me and shoved me back onto the bed. I watched as she shucked her clothes, crawled up between my legs and took my cock in her mouth. As was her standard practice, she sucked me off until my balls were ready to burst and then she stopped.

I tried to move around to eat her pussy and she stopped me. "Uh uh baby. I need this tonight."

She climbed up and lowered herself on my turgid cock. As she started riding me, all sense of normalcy went by the wayside. Her hips showed a sense of urgency, like she needed to use our crotch friction to start a fire to ward off hypothermia. Usually when she fucks me like this she sounds like Monica Seles in the tennis match for her life.

That night she sounded like a teen trying not to get caught fucking on her parents' couch. She made sounds like the air was being knocked out of her. She made little squeaking sounds and some deep sighs. When she came I felt her body go rigid and shake. After she came a second time she pounded her hips down as fast as she could until I exploded deep inside her pussy.

My orgasmic grunts sounded deafening in the silent room. When Stacey came for the third and final time she let out a shriek and collapsed on top of me, sweating and breathing heavily and held onto me as if she'd float away if she was not anchored to me. We lay like that for some time and then just as quietly as she had fucked me, she rolled off and went to sleep.

I was too weirded out to sleep right away. The events of the evening kept re-playing in my mind. I re-evaluated my conversation with Jerry. He didn't seem malicious in his warning, but like he was passing along information. Don Sanders couldn't keep his eyes off of Stacey, and she kept looking around the room like a kid afraid of being caught sneaking a cookie before dinner.

I got up and went down to my office and got on my computer. I looked through program lists until I found the ones I wanted. Unfortunately they were on my office PC and I'd have to sneak them out.

Sunday passed without a hint of the weirdness that seemed to rule the night before. Stacey didn't seem any different. But, if she was a serial cheater, she'd be well practiced at hiding her tells. I wasn't sure if I was able to trust her or not, but I'd know soon.

Monday morning I went into my office and pulled three USB thumb drives from a compartment in my briefcase. I inserted them into my PC and loaded the programs on them that I wanted. That evening when Stacey went to bed, I booted her lap top up and loaded one of the USB files onto it. Then I went into my office and loaded the other two thumb drives into my PC. I was set. Now all I had to do was wait and see what I got for my efforts.

*****

The Bee Gees finished telling me what I do or don't know just as I pulled into my driveway. It's hard to think that in just over three years I had gone from marital bliss to first degree murder. Actually I'm not sure murder was on my mind this morning when I went to the detective agency I'd hired. Up to that point I was only disappointed that the guy in Abilene has a buyer for his Eddie Hill piston clock, so I knew I'd now have to work on the guy in Iowa.

The program I loaded onto Stacey's lap top searched and found all of the electronic signatures for all of the e-mail, IM, chat, and social networks she used. Then it looked just for the posts that came from her computer and I had the means to set up the ferret programs on my PC.

The first program took the information gleaned from her lap top and set up cache's to copy and collect her posts, e-mails, and chats. After a while I'd be able to select which ones the program could cache, and which should be sent directly to me.

The other program allowed me, in five simple steps to enter and bug her cell. I had a recorder that would log her calls and texts. I could also turn her phone into a microphone to eavesdrop on conversations even if she wasn't on the phone. So now all I had to do was wait and see who she chatted with and what she talked about. I was able to let the programs look for key words and cut down on the amount of stuff I had to look through. The only communication link I wasn't able to compromise was her office's phone system. For almost two years I got nothing to make me suspect her.

I read an article that stated that most women cheat with their boss. Stacey's boss is female and I am 99.99% sure that Stacey has no lesbian tendencies. I found out the hard way. One day at the mall we saw a lesbian couple making out on a bench. To make a long story short, one comment, two hours of yelling, and three days of no sex were sufficient to drive that point home. It also cost me a dozen roses and a diamond tennis bracelet. So her boss' communications only got cursory glances from me.

I felt like a shit for spying on her like that, but there were good things that came of it. I knew that any time I fucked up her text volume would go up, but I did gain insight to fixing said fuck ups a lot sooner than if I'd had to guess. Gift giving also became much easier.

Thirteen months ago I had my first snag. With the information gleaned from her laptop, my program was able to hack into her work e-mail account. Among the key words my program was looking for and flagging were the words "travel, convention, fly or flight, and hotel."

Her boss had sent an e-mail to Stacey detailing her up-coming trip to an annual meeting in Cleveland. This presented a problem. Without tapping into NSA's computer and satellite system, I couldn't monitor Stacey in real time through her phone, and I knew there was no way I was even going to attempt that hack. I had back doors into several NSA programs, but there was no way to task the satellites without them knowing. There was also a zero percent chance that Stacey would be IM'ing or texting her every conversation during her time in Cleveland.

The only option I then had was to hire a PI and have them tail her during her trip. Since I had her itinerary, it wasn't hard at all for them to plan their surveillance. I had quite a bit of money in my savings account that I used to buy Stacey gifts and such, so secretly being able to afford to pay the PI team was not hard, but I was glad Stacey didn't travel often.

Stacey was gone for three days. I was on pins and needles for the entire time. I called my attorney J. Whitfield Crane Esq. and asked him to draw up divorce papers. He told me I was nuts when I told him it was just in case. He said he'd charge me double if I changed my mind after he drew them up, so I told him to hold off. He said that I would thank him later.

As Stacey's flight was leaving Cleveland for Denver, I was in the office of Jerry Cantrell Investigations. My employers and I used Jerry often in our research and background checks for sensitive work groups. He and his guys always did a thorough job.

Jerry had sent three of his guys to cover Stacey in Cleveland. Two of them flew in the day before and staked out her hotel. They had managed, and by managed I mean bribed the clerk, to get the room next to hers. They punched a couple of small holes in the wall between the rooms in case she took a guy in and they could get photographic evidence.

The third guy tailed Stacey to and through the airport, and boarded the same plane. When they got to Cleveland, there was never a moment, except for when she was alone in her room, or in meetings that one of the three wasn't watching her. As the plane carrying her and one of the PIs was leaving Cleveland, the other two were sending the report to Jerry.

I sat in his office as he printed out the report. He scanned it quickly and then went back to his computer and printed a few more things. "Freddy, your girl didn't do a damn thing while she was in Cleveland." He put a paper in front of me that detailed her comings and goings including her meals and showers.

"The only thing here that is even slightly hinkey is this." He pushed a stack of pictures in front of me. The pictures showed Stacey hugging some guy twice. I couldn't see his face in the first few shots.

"The guy arrived in Cleveland as your wife was leaving. According to my guys he was heading for a connecting flight to Indianapolis when they met. No clue as to what flight he got off of." The last photo I saw showed his face clearly. It was Donald Sanders, Stacey's best known cheating partner. I knew that nothing had happened on this trip, but the appearance of Don Sanders meant I couldn't let my guard down.

When Stacey got home, I asked her about her trip. She told me that it had been pretty mundane and boring. "Listening to seventeen keynote speakers ramble on about insurance is better than anesthesia. Even the gung ho types were yawning to beat hell."

"Yeah, I have been to programming seminars that would kill if not for massive amounts of caffeine especially that one in Indy two years ago."

She chuckled and then informed me she needed a shower. I was a bit miffed over her lack of disclosure about running into an old friend. But I didn't dare tip my hand and let her know she was under surveillance.

When she'd been in the shower for a minute or two I heard her call to me. I figured she had forgotten to grab a towel or shampoo. As soon as I walked into the bathroom, she was on me. In no time I was stripped and pulled into the shower. Four hours later, the kid delivering the Mexican food was subjected to the sight of me in my hastily donned boxers.

For several months nothing came up to arouse my suspicions. Then one day, out of the blue, she opened a Facebook account. I was leery because three guys I worked with had their wives leave them for guys they found on Facebook. So needless to say I kept a real close eye on her Facebook activity.

She gained about seventy friends during the first week. Mainly they were people she went to school with or worked with. There were a few guys whom I was sure hit her up because of her profile photo. She must have felt the same way because she rejected those without a second look. I was a bit alarmed when I discovered that the chat feature on the site was missed by my software, but I wrote an update that fixed that right away.

Two months ago she got the friend request I had been dreading. I read the words and felt my anger rise. "Donald Sanders has sent you a friend request. Do you know Donald?" Instead of yelling or cursing I just deleted the request. Maybe good old Donald would just take a hike. I wasn't that lucky.

I was working in my den that evening when I got a chat alert for Stacey's Facebook account. I almost ignored it think that it was her friend from work Elaine bitching about Carl the mail guy or something. Then that gut feeling kicked in and I opened the window.

Donald Sanders; Hey Sweety. Why dint u anser my frnd req?

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: What req? I didn't get any today.

Donald Sanders: I snt u 1. 2bad u dint get any. I do u if hub wnt.

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: Pig! That's prolly why I turned you down.

Donald Sanders:Thot u sed u got non 2day.

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: Send another. I'll accept I know I didn't get 1

today.

I knew there was no stopping it without her knowing something was awry, so I just sat back and prepared to monitor her a lot more. For the most part they talked about people from high school, and their lives. Donald was an auto finance specialist and he lived in South Bend Indiana.

For the next few weeks they'd chat idly, he'd try to take the conversation sexual but to her credit Stacey always put an abrupt stop to it. There were a few times as well that I considered sending him a nice virus. For the most part they kept their chats tame.

Three weeks ago Stacey's boss sent her an itinerary for the annual meetings. This year they were being held in Dallas Texas. Once again I had all of the information that I needed to feed my PI.

I never saw Stacey mention the Dallas trip to Sanders in their chats, but a week before she was scheduled to leave he started asking her about it.

Donald Sanders:So whn u gon to TX?

Stacey LaRusso Murphy:How'd you find out about that?

Donald Sanders: trolld ur page. Saw post from ur frnd Anna

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: So then you prolly know when I'm going :P

Donald Sanders:I hav to get a ticket 2 tx I guess

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: I have mine. You'll never do it.

Donald Sanders: I xcept that challinge

I hoped he was bluffing. I looked for a way to block him from getting airfare, but once again with perpetrating a risky hack into sensitive NSA computers not being an option, there was nothing I could really do. I wished I had gotten more pertinent information on the guy so I could make his attempt at my wife impossible. But all I could do was watch and prepare for the worst. I wasn't prepared for the worst though; and I caused it.

Three days before Stacey was set to leave for Dallas, I watched a chat session between her and Don.

Donald Sanders:HAY BABEE!!!

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: Can't you greet someone like a normal human?

Donald Sanders: WHO WANTS NRMAL ooops dam cap lock

Donald Sanders:I got xsiteing news babe

I didn't know much about Don Sanders, but I quickly deduced that tact and spelling were not his strong suits. This fucker needed to buy "Hooked on Phonics." I had to stifle a laugh or three as I read his crap.

Donald Sanders: I GIT my tix to dalass.

Donald Sanders: no roomz at the briar wood tho

Donald Sanders: but best wesrn is jut up the rode

Stacey LaRusso Murphy: I shouldn't have told you where my meeting

was.

Donald Sanders: @i have souprise 4 u 2

Stacey LaRusso Murphy:Oh Rly...what surprise? Your penis?

Stacey LaRusso Murphy:Seen it. Not impressed

Donald Sanders: U nvr cumplaned b4.

Stacey LaRusso Murphy:So what's your big surprise?

Donald Sanders:I trked dn Gary smd aRNIE :O

Gary Darling and Arnold Philips. Those two and Don were three of the supposed participants in the infamous homecoming gang bang. A chill ran up my spine when I realized what Sanders was aiming for. I just hoped that Stacey wasn't game. For some reason I had never asked her about the gang bang. I'm not sure how you ask your wife to tell you about the time she took six wanton cocks under a sea of football watching asses.

Back when I was a human tripod running on hormones I wanted the rumor to be true. Now I hoped it had never happened. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew a lot hinged on the next few minutes.

Donald Sanders: So whacha thnk? Get the gang bck 2gether?

Donald Sanders:It wrked bootifly once ;)

Stacey LaRusso Murphy:Oh Yeah! I want it to be EXACTLY like last time.

"Exactly like last time?" Is she asking this asshole to track down the other three guys from that night? I lost my temper. I didn't fly off the handle and rush out into the rom and punch her in the mouth. I kept my wits enough to not let her know I was watching her. "What the fuck?" I said as I typed a simple command into my computer. Moments later I knew it had worked, because I could hear Stacey trying to get her lap top to work.

One of the features NSA had asked for was a command that would wipe out a hard drive from a remote computer. This was mainly to prevent enemies from getting proof they were being spied on. It also worked in the case of one of their computers being stolen or compromised.

In my moment of anger I entered the command and wiped out Stacey's hard drive. I had stopped the conversation cold, but I also stopped my main source of information. I silently cursed myself and began brainstorming ways to get back into her secret world

Ten minutes later she came into my office with her laptop. She looked lost. "Freddy, my laptop seems to have died. Can you fix it baby?"

I was fascinated to check her lap top out, I hadn't got to see any of my handy work from the field tests so I wanted to take full advantage of this situation. I was also concerned that I had lost a very important intelligence channel.

I decided I would go buy her a new laptop and load my program onto it as soon as I could the next day. "Looks like you hard drive is shot hon. I'll get you a new lap top on my way home tomorrow evening."

"Don't worry about it baby. I'll have Lorna issue me a company lap top until I get back from Dallas."

"FUCK!!!" I didn't want her to use company machines. I was morally bankrupt enough to put snooper programs on her machine, but I didn't want to add it to her employer's equipment. Mainly it could be construed as industrial espionage, and I didn't think it could be detected, but until my guys had exhausted every possibility, I didn't know it couldn't be stumbled upon by some half assed techno geek. So like it or not I was going into her big trip blind. At least I knew I had the PI on the ground at the right place and times.

I bought her a new lap top the next day on my lunch break. By the time I was ready to go home for the day I had all of my extras on her machine and running. I took it home to her and she was pleased, but her presentations for her meetings were all on the lap top that she'd borrowed from work. She had a big presentation to give on the last day of the meeting. She said she'd wait until she was back from Dallas to use her new one. I did get a "thank you blow job" out of the deal.

So while Stacey was in Dallas I sat and stewed. Mostly I tried to keep my mind off of what might be happening by working on the newest updates for the NSA programs. They liked what we had done so far. So much so that they sent a whole new list of specifications they wanted the software to meet. Of course they gave us weeks to do what looked like it would take months to do, so my crew was working at home as well as at work, so I was good and tired when this morning rolled around.

I went to work for a few hours. Between running to the break room for coffee and going to the bathroom I don't know how I got anything accomplished. At 11:30 I went to meet with Jerry Cantrell at his office.

Ten minutes after I sat in his conference room, Jerry walked in with a packet of papers and a sheepish look on his face. Somehow I knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Freddy, I've got some good news and I've..."

"Got some bad news." I finished for him. I felt my blood beginning to boil as I envisioned him handing me a DVD of m Stacey being fucked by three or more guys in some Dallas hotel room. Jerry must have known what I was thinking as he handed me a thumb drive and copies of the report.