Old Temptations

"MARY!" I gushed. "You're a wonder. You can't imagine how much time and trouble you've just saved me. Thank you so much. What do you drink, by the way?"

"Scotch," replied Mary.

"Thanks again," I replied. "A bottle of single malt is on the way. BYE!"

"Well, shit howdy!" I laughed to myself as I got to the parking lot. I felt like I just won the Powerball Lottery. I'd make short work of this prick Monday morning. But not before I taught my whore wife a lesson she'd never forget.

~~~~~

By the time I finished at BestBuy and got back to the motel room, it was past lunchtime. I dropped the stuff on the table in the corner of the room and dialed Gayle.

"Where the hell have you been?" she snapped. "I thought you were going to call me and meet for lunch."

"I'm calling now," I snapped back. Not in any mood to take any of her shit, under the circumstances.

"Well, it's too late," she responded churlishly. "I've already eaten."

"Fine then!" I growled. "Go do your fucking shopping then. I'll see you at home later."

I hung up without allowing her to reply. Fuck the cunt!

I was steamed, so I decided to walk down to the corner and grab a burger at the In-N-Out I had seen pulling in. It would give me an opportunity to check out the parking lot behind the building and see where I could park without attracting my wife's attention to my car on Monday morning. Fortunately, there were no windows on the back of the building, I noted.

~~~~~

After wolfing down a burger, I was back in the motel room in half an hour. Before I did anything else, I decided to break out my latest Dick Tracy Super Detective device I bought at BestBuy. Just for shit and giggled, I had looked at their surveillance equipment and cameras.

One of the 'Nanny Cams' caught my attention. It was a camera that operated off lithium batteries and looked just like a thermostat. It occurred to me that it might be a good backup option, in case the under door camera proved impractical. And I now knew that I could get back in the room to set it up.

I loaded the batteries as well as the large fast SD card the clerk had recommended and walked over to the connecting door and the door opened easily. The tissue I had stuffed inside had worked perfectly.

I discovered that if I mounted the fake thermostat camera about two feet to the side of the door and about four feet from the floor, directly in front of the bed, it would provide the best view. I positioned the camera appropriately and turned it on, shooting a few seconds of video.

Then I pulled the SD card out and plugged it into my laptop next door. When the video began to play, the positioning was almost perfect. I just needed to raise the camera about six inches and move it about four inches to the right.

I returned to Jerry's room and pulled the covering off the tape on the back and mounted the camera on the wall. I set the control buttons to start the camera when it sensed motion.

Now I moved onto the other camera to see how easy it would be to manipulate the lens on the end of the flexible cable. After a few minutes I had the hang of it and I pulled a chair over in front of the door to sit on while I moved the lens from side to side.

Realizing that the cable might draw attention as it slid back and forth, I opened the door and marked the cable so it didn't slide in to far under the door. I noticed that there were some rubbery bands a little farther up the wand and realized that was what they were for, to be positioned to keep the wand from sliding too far under a door when it was used surreptitiously.

Both cameras seemed to be good to go, so I decided to move on to the Lexus Nexus Bad Boy Bio. But first, I decided to check in and see what my slut wife was doing.

Once I had the spyware up on my laptop, I saw that she and her ex-con boyfriend had exchanged more emails and they appeared to have photos attached. The subject line on Jerry's email was 'JUST FOR YOU BABE' When I opened the photo it was a closeup of his cock.

I had to admit, the heavily veined and ribbed monster was impressive. The rest of the message in the text field was 'When your pussy is done eating my cock, maybe we can let your ass have the leftovers!"

I moved on to my wife's reply. Not really sure I wanted to know her reply!

The subject line on my whore wife's reply was 'THINK IT WILL FIT?' The attached photo was a photo of my wife sitting on the edge of what looked like a barber's chair using her fingers to stretch her naked pussy wide open. You could see several inches into her vaginal canal. The shameless slut must have taken the photo at the hairdressers I concluded.

The accompanying text said, 'You have your work cut out for you big boy, stuffing that monster of yours into my tight little pussy...but I have faith in you!'

Below that was an additional text message saying, 'As for the backdoor, it's virgin territory baby, so we'll see!' accompanied by three smiley face emojis.

Just as I finished reading my slut wife's response, a new email came through from Jerry. The subject line was 'SHOW ME YOUR ASS!!!" The text was 'Spread your cheeks wide for me babe and take a photo for me. Give me something to dream about until Monday morning!!!"

Almost immediately a response came through. Attached was a video. The subject line was STAR TREK TRIP TO URANUS, BABY!!!" The text was "Are you ready to go to where no man has gone before?" Again there were three smiley face emojis. When I opened the video, I could see that Gayle was stark naked and bent over with her hands on our full length mirror in the bathroom. She was now apparently at home.

As I watched the video she swayed her ass back and forth and spread her ass cheeks wide with her hands, twerking her ass at the same time. Soon her middle and index fingers from each hand were disappearing inside her ass as she continued to sway her hips.

No sooner did I close the message than she sent another, but this time without a photo or video. The subject line was 'DON'T FORGET THE LUBE, BABY!!!' The accompanying text read, 'My pussy is dripping like crazy, thinking about finally having your huge cock up my tight virgin little ass. If mom and dad hadn't spoiled our little party, you'd have owned my ass years ago! Better late than never...huh?' This time there were six smiley face emojis.

I closed both programs down and shut my laptop. I didn't care if there were any voice mails to listen to or more emails to read. I knew I had my fill. Anything more and I might go home and beat the ever-loving crap out of her, and I didn't want to do that―even though she richly deserved it.

I tried to get a handle on my emotions and reminded myself that revenge was a dish best served cold, especially when it was to a hot steamy cunt.

As I calmed myself, I occupied my time by reading through the Nexus Lexus report on the not very artful criminal mastermind who had spent as much time in prison as out, since he graduated from high school.

I finally read enough of it and I put the pages back in the manilla folder, wrapping the rubber band around it again and tossing it in my briefcase. Then I tossed the under door camera into my briefcase as well just in case the maid or someone else should walk into the room before I returned.

Finally, I propped the back of one of the wooden chairs from the table up against the door to prevent anyone from entering from the other side. Then I left, turning the light out behind me and locking the door. But first I had put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on room's outer door knob.

~~~~~

On the way home there was a text alert on my phone and when I looked down, it was Gayle on the phone with her deadbeat lover. I figured what the hell, so I decided to listen in as I drove.

"...baby I can't wait to have you inside me. I've waited SO LONG! If you're going to be there at 8 am, I will be too. I'll make an excuse and tell my husband I had to go in early. By the way, I'm taking the entire day off, so you better get your rest now, big boy!" giggled Gayle like she was back in high school.

"I'm going to ruin your pussy you little cunt," growled Jerry. "Then I'm going to ruin your tight virgin ass. You won't be able to sit down for a week, you whoring little slut. You won't be able to walk when I'm done with you."

There was silence on the other end of the line as Gayle didn't immediately reply.

As I listened, I sense that Jerry had been drinking. He sounded like a mean drunk.

"Baby, you're scaring me," whimpered Gayle meekly before squeaking. "Don't you love me?"

"Yeah, of course I do," rumbled Jerry. "You're my whore! You're been my slut since high school!"

"Have you been drinking, baby?" whimpered Gayle, sounding unsure what to do or say next.

"Yeah, what of it!" retorted Jerry defiantly.

"Nothing, baby," sniffled Gayle. "I just want you rested and in good shape for me. Monday 8 a.m. is going to come early, baby! I want you ready for me. I'm going to fuck you so good! I can't wait!"

"Don't try to tell me what to do, you little whore!" growled Jerry. "Don't you worry! I'm going to fuck your brains out --"

"Of course you are, baby," cooed Gayle meekly, trying to quell Jerry's seeming anger.

As I listened in while I drove home, I had to smile to myself. It sounded like my whoring wife was starting to have second thoughts about her deadbeat lover.

"Damn right!" groaned Jerry, sounding like he was running out of gas.

"I gotta go now, baby," cooed Gayle. "Love you! Night, night! See you bright and early on Monday! Can't wait! BYE!"

As the call ended, I really was starting to wonder if my slut wife was finally starting to have second thoughts. Had she allowed herself to become deluded as she fantasizing about her halcyon high school days? Was she trying to recapture her lost youth? Had she been looking at her sordid tryst, her shameless adultery through the rose colored lens of her own lust and teenage memories?

Now I was beginning to wonder if she was going to deprive me of my opportunity to thoroughly shame her, to humiliate her, before I began the process of remolding her as I had always wanted her. I didn't want to miss this opportunity to get the upper hand in our relationship, so I could bend her to my will moving forward.

I began to seriously worry that Gayle might not actually show up Monday morning at 8 a.m. And the more I thought about it, the more I began worrying about my own plans for Monday morning.

If she actually was going to be there bright and early at 8 a.m., how was I going to be in place in the room next door before she arrived. And did I want her growing paranoid thinking I might follow her and she might skittishly abandon her tryst. I knew that guilt or shame could trigger that kind of emotion.

As I neared home, I finally arrived at a solution. When I got home, I would tell Gayle that I had to go out of town on an unexpected business trip and that I would have to leave the following afternoon. That way, I would have Sunday evening to set the hotel room up, make sure no one had messed with the connecting door and be completely ready first thing Monday morning.

The added advantage was that Gayle would think I was a couple of hundred miles away and she would be free to do as she pleased. It wouldn't take long to find out her response, I concluded. She'd probably quickly be on the phone giving Jerry the good news and telling her sleazy lover that she could stay the night with him.

Safely in the motel room tomorrow afternoon, I could continue to monitor my wife from my laptop, get some needed rest and start giving serious thought to the nature of Gayle's and my future relationship.

The last few days had been a revelation to me. After years of treating Gayle like the little angel she pretended to be, now I knew her true nature. Perhaps it had come as a revelation to her too, once her former teenage crush presented her with temptation.

One thing was clear to me, my wife had made it very clear that she wanted to be a slut and whore, or at the very least had no problem with being one for her former boyfriend. Starting tomorrow morning, I was going to fulfill her wish, but with one caveat--from now on she was going to be MY WHORE and she would be fulfilling my fantasies and desires, not Jerry's.

I was doing well enough in my career and making enough money that we really didn't need her income. It was just mad money for her anyway. Tomorrow I would have her tender her resignation. Starting tomorrow she would have a new fulltime job--being my whore.

I don't know when precisely I made the decision. I don't think I even made it consciously. Originally I had planned on bursting in the room before the cloths came off, but now I planned on catching the slut 'In flagrante delicto' so she couldn't make any lame excuses, trying to explain away her adultery.

Now I would coerce her into doing whatever I demanded, lest her family, friends and co-workers get some pretty embarrassing videos of her fucking a strange man in a motel room. I'd threaten to send copies of her voice messages to her parents and grandparents if that's what it took to have my way with the slut.

I was approaching the house now and ideas were flooding through my head. I knew I needed to get them down on paper before I reached home and they became lost as I dealt with Gayle, assuming she would be a bundle of nerves and a drama queen as her illicit tryst approached.

I pulled over to the curb at the base of the hill that led up to our home which was near the top and pulled a notepad from my briefcase. I began jotting down the ideas that were bouncing inside my head in no particular order.

Change her appearance, so that even she

doesn't recognize herself. ― Change her hair color. Red? ― Butt plug/s, ass training. ― Get rid of all her old clothes and buy her a new, sluttier wardrobe to reinforce her new role as my whore. ― Get rid of all her bras and panties. No more undergarments. ― Tattoo/s to reinforce new self-image? ― Piercings? ― Clit ring? ― Swinger sites? ― Adult dating sites? ― Boudoir photos? ― Create a new alternate identity for her online.

I threw the pad and pen back into my briefcase and closed it. That was a good start, I though, as I finished the drive home. I would have plenty of time tomorrow night at the motel to start fleshing out those and additional ideas.

My one overriding goal was to remold Gayle the way I had always wanted her. And after the last few days, I suspected what I wanted was closer to what she actually wanted―if she were truthful with herself.

Based upon what she had revealed about herself over the last few days, it was apparent she had no problem with the concept of being a whoring slut.

My sense from her online exchanges with Jerry and her phone conversations with him, was that she wanted to be dominated by an alpha male. I had been misreading her all these years, treating her with total dignity and respect. That would be the first thing that changed tomorrow. From now on, I would treat her like the slutty whore she seemingly aspired to be.

When I pulled in the driveway, I didn't put the car in the garage. Instead, I decided to enter the house quietly through the front door and see what Gayle was up to. As I reached the end of the hallway, I saw Gayle sitting on the end of the couch, wine glass in hand. As I approached her, I could see that the bottle next to her was already nearly empty.

"Getting an early start?" I asked sarcastically as I approached her.

"Why would you care?" pouted Gayle. "You couldn't even bother to have lunch with me?"

"I really am sorry," I replied, sensing the opportunity to instigate my ruse for tomorrow. "But something came up at the office and I got tied up. As a matter of fact, I'll have to be out of town for at least a couple of days. I'll have to leave tomorrow afternoon and stay overnight. My first meeting is early Monday morning."

Gayle was already drunk and looked up at me with a dazed look. Reaching for the bottle, she empties the contents in her glass before sitting the bottle on the end of the table. She didn't even notice when it cascaded to the thick carpet on the floor.

"Where is your meeting?" asked Gayle, acting only semi-interested.

"In LA, Santa Barbara actually," I lied. In her mind that would put me a comfortable three or four hours away from our home in La Jolla.

"And your meeting is first thing Monday morning?" asked Gayle. Suddenly she seemed more alert. I could literally see her wheels spinning.

"Yeah, that's why I'm driving up tomorrow afternoon," I replied. "I'll spend the evening at the hotel prepping for the meeting, so you'll be on your own tomorrow evening. Sorry!"

As I watched Gayle, she seemed to have perked up.

"That's OK," she seemed to coo, suddenly smiling, "I'm going to have a long day at work Monday myself."

'I'll bet you think you will, you little whore' I thought to myself.

"Do you want me to order dinner and have it delivered?" I asked, and then decided to give her a dig. "Or do you want me to get you another bottle and you can drink your dinner."

Gayle looked up at me bleary eyed for a moment. I couldn't quite make out what I saw in her eyes. Was it mild anger, disappointment, contempt, sorrow, or maybe just disinterest.

"Dinner is in the oven," Gayle finally replied snidely as she got up and stumbled toward the kitchen.

Now, I felt like a schmuck.

"Why don't you go sit back down, baby," I said as I caught up with Gayle and nudged her back toward the couch. "Tell me what needs to be done and let me do it. You've had too much to drink. I don't want you cutting or burning yourself."

"OK, thanks," replied Gayle as she curled up on the couch again. She looked up at me and I could swear I saw her eyes becoming moist. Was it possible she was actually experiencing some guilt in advance of her betrayal?

"Just turn the oven off," said Gayle finally. "There's a roast in the Dutch oven. It can just sit until you're ready to eat."

"Aren't you going to join me--eat dinner?" I asked, trying to make sure I understood her response.

"No, I already drank my dinner," replied Gayle in a spiteful tone. "REMEMBER!"

"I'm sorry!" I said, trying to backpedal. "That was a cheap shot. I apologize. Please join me for dinner. It may be our last chance to have dinner together for a few days."

"Does that bother you?" asked Gayle, looking up at me with doe eyes.

"Of course it does," I replied earnestly. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"I don't know!" whined Gayle, sounding frustrated before asking, "Do I have time to take a shower before dinner?"

"Sure," I replied. "Why don't I make us some coffee while you're in the shower."

"Thanks," Gayle replied as she got up and headed toward the bedroom. "That sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

~~~~~

It was almost 9 am when I woke up. Gayle was no longer in bed, but I could sense the smell of coffee and bacon drifting in from the kitchen. I got up and took a short shower before putting on my bathrobe and heading toward the kitchen.

"Oh Good!" said Gayle, looking up from the stove. "I was just about to come wake you up. Breakfast is almost ready."

"What brought this on?" I asked, my tone appreciative, as I walked to the counter and poured a cup of coffee. Gayle wasn't big on cooking breakfast on Sunday mornings. She usually preferred going out to brunch.

"I don't know," replied Gayle, all doe eyes again. "It just seemed like a good idea. You were patient with your drunken wife last night."

Was it remorse, or maybe guilt, I was seeing in her eyes and hearing in her voice, I wondered. Or was I looking at Gayle again through rose colored glasses. I decided to enjoy the moment and find the true answer when I checked her phone and emails from my computer after breakfast.