Sex, Lies and Security Tapes Ch. 05

Annette left for her girls night out with a funny look on her face. I no longer let things like that bother me, having seen what she was really up to. I was trying decide how to approach the end game.

I'd seen more than any man should ever have to see. And it had driven me to distraction. It had turned me completely over to the other team.

I'd been in touch with Bob a couple days before, and we planned for a quiet meeting at the Sussex, sort of in public but very professional. I'd be in a jacket and he'd be in a jacket, and we would just be a couple guys having drinks and talking business.

Which in a sense, we were. I owed him a couple thousand dollars in surveillance fees, and we were discussing something else that night, something else he'd discovered about Annette, her friends and her co-workers.

The Sussex isn't far from our house, and I wanted to meet there for that reason. We would certainly not be suspected of anything. Annette would certainly not show up there. And I liked the food.

Bob was all business when I arrived. We drove in separate cars on purpose, and I had no illusions about anything happening other than having a drink and our first normal conversation.

He had other ideas.

Bob had taken it upon himself to expand his surveillance on Annette and came to the restaurant with another manila envelope. When I saw it, I assumed he was going to give me the photos he'd already taken, which was part of our contract.

But as soon as I sat down, I could tell this was something else.

"This is probably not going to sit well with you John," he started. "But your wife is a very active girl. And so are her friends."

I couldn't imagine anything to be more damning that what I'd already seen with my own eyes. Your wife getting banged by a dozen men, including her bosses, in the light of day in a public park was grounds for divorce, lawsuits and hellish retribution. And I was ready for it all.

Bob was seated across the table me with a blank look in his eyes.

"She's a lesbian too," he said.

I laughed out loud, disturbing the people seated next to us. I stared back at him wide-eyed, as he glanced down at the envelope.

"Oh God," I said. "What the hell is in there now?"

He'd followed her to Bette's house one afternoon, saw her drop off a bag from Victoria's Secret then took a few shots of her coming back out of the house an hour or so later. After he saw Bette leave too, he walked to the back fence and took a look. A few hours later, he'd set up a webcam over looking the pool.

As I leafed through the photos in the envelope, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he pulled a tablet up from the seat beside him and turned it on. Immediately, it was a look at Bette's pool with four naked women frolicking in the water. Bette, Nan, Misty and yes, Annette.

They were mostly kissing and fondling. They were hammered. There was no sound, just four drunk naked married women in a pool. Almost immediately they staggered out, wrapped towels around them and disappeared from the cam.

"That was live," he said.

I was speechless. I shook my head and lowered my voice.

"She's a fucking whore," I said.

Bob smiled.

"John, she's horny as hell," he said. "She can't get enough. She's a sexual animal."

I had a hard-on again. My cock was throbbing, and I was flushed and I was madder at myself than my lost wife. I suddenly felt sorry for her. I tried to remember the last time we had sex, tried to remember how it was, what it consisted of, then I realized I knew exactly how it was and exactly what it consisted of.

She would initiate it, her arm draping across my chest. I would move her hand down to my cock. She would play with it while my hand stayed close by, then she would take my hand and place it on my cock.

I would jack off while she fingered my ass and played with her pussy. Then we'd both cum. Sometimes she would get on top of me and fuck me from above. Sometimes she would roll over and pull me onto her.

But that was it. A blow job here and there. Me sucking her pussy every blue moon. And that was it.

Wash, rinse and repeat.

Every Saturday night.

Then we'd go to sleep.

I sat there and fell into a state of sadness. Bob went and got more drinks. We ate, drank, talked some more, glanced at the tablet that had now gone dark and got ready to say our good-byes.

And then the color flushed out of Bob's face.

"Do not move," he said.

Bob was up in an instant, walking toward the bar when I heard him say her name.

"You look great Annette," he said.

I froze. Holy shit. She's here? What the fuck? Please God, don't let her walk back here. Please God, tell me what to say. My mind raced. Do I tell her now? Do I get up and confront her now? I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I was frozen stiff.

And then they were gone.

I peered around the edge of the booth and saw her at the checkout. Bob was walking toward me gesturing for me to get up.

We walked out the back entrance, Bob telling the manager he'd be right back, taking his wallet out and handing it to the manager as we slipped out the back patio and into the parking lot.

I went to my car, and he went to his. We didn't say a word.

And then, there she was. Smiling, a little drunk and with that stupid grin on her face. She saw Bob.

"Where did you go?" she cooed, sounding like a little girl. I was ten yards away and in the darkness. Neither of them could see me.

She walked up to him and threw her arms around him, falling into him, letting him know she was a little tipsy, basically telling him to fuck me right here, right now.

I'd seen it before. But I assumed it was always an act to make me jealous.

Not now. I saw Bob look around to try and find me, then completely smother her in a long and very wet kiss. Her hand was on the back of his head. Her other hand was on his ass.

Bob slid both his hands down to her ass, lifted her skirt and slid his hands into her panties. Annette left her feet, wrapping her legs around Bob's waist.

"Fuck me," she hissed.

"God, Annette," he said. "We can't. Not here."

Again, he looked around for me. I was three cars away. Neither of them could see me. She slid down from him and grabbed both his hands, pulling him toward the opening between cars. They weren't even their cars.

She knelt down in front of him. I moved over to the car beside them without either noticing.

Annette sucked his cock right there in the parking lot.

"Suck me bitch," he said quietly. "Suck me like you're doing in front of your fag husband."

I heard her squeal.

"I want you to fuck me," she hissed again.

He grabbed her hair and said in a low voice, "suck my cock, bitch."

Bob was slamming her head against him, driving his cock into her face, calling her names and hurting her, gagging her, abusing her.

She loved it. She begged for more, popping his cock from her mouth and growling at him.

"Fuck me," she said through clinched teeth.

"Suck me," he said, forcing his cock into her mouth again.

Eventually, he had her by the head, thrusting his cock into her mouth, pushing her back against one of the cars. Her legs were spread, and she was fingering herself.

Bob came without telling her, blowing his load all over her mouth and her face, covering her in white hot cum just as two people suddenly appeared at their car. It was our friends from inside. The woman screamed, and the man reached for his cellphone.

"My God," he said. "I'm calling the cops."

Bob dropped Annette onto the ground. She was covered in cum, her skirt over her hips and her panties hanging down.

"Don't bother," Bob said. "We were just leaving."

"Well!" the woman exclaimed. "That's the sickest thing I've ever seen."

Behind her, a voice interrupted the tense scene.

"Oh, I've seen sicker," I said.

Annette stood up, her hair in her eyes, cum running down her chin, her panties around her ankles and a look of sheer terror in her eyes.

She fainted between the parked cars.

Bob and I picked her up and carried her to my car, throwing her into the front seat.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Back to Bette's," I said. "It's girls night out."