God knows, it’s been decades since I’ve believed that Karl was faithful
to me. For all he’d claimed that his vasectomy was to “take the burden
off me,” he hadn’t minded putting the burden of contraception on me
back when we were having more frequent intercourse. I suspected then
that some mistress had given him a scare.
But the last straw was when I figured out that he was enjoying his
doxies in <b>my</b> bed. I hired a detective. Porter shadowed Karl
and a student to our house, but told me that this wasn’t sufficient
evidence. Since it was my house, I could grant him legal access. And
we knew times the house would be empty. Karl, however
undependable with regard to his marital vows, can be depended on to
meet his classes.
Porter planted the TV camera in my bedroom. He explained that sound
was not necessary in court and was more expensive. I wasn’t interested
in hearing Karl talk to his slut; I’d heard enough of Karl’s talk — more
than enough — in our marriage. Motion sensors would turn on the
camera which would automatically record date and time. I retrieved the
tapes. The first few recorded only me and Karl. Since I could reuse
those tapes without anyone else seeing them, I lost all modesty about
undressing before the hidden camera.
Then came a tape recorded in mid afternoon. At first, the screen was
blank. I wondered whether something outside had set off the motion
sensors. Then Karl led a girl into camera range. She was topless, but
her lower half wore a student’s jeans and tennis shoes the coed’s
uniform. Karl opened the door to *my* closet and posed her in front of
the full-length mirror. Then he stood behind her playing with her
inadequate breasts until the nipples stood up.
After a minute, he pulled down her pants. She was naked from her
ankles up. All this time, Karl’s lips were moving. The man would rather
talk than do anything.
The girl stepped out of her clothes and lay on the bed — my bed. This
centered her in the camera. When Karl removed his clothes, he showed
the beginnings of an erection. The girl didn’t need to do what I’d done
to excite him until I tired of making the effort. He lay down on the bed
— our bed. They hugged. As he was on his side facing her (and the
camera) I could see that he had most of an erection.
Instead of plunging into her and obtaining his own selfish release — as
he would have with me — he began kissing her. He started at the
mouth, went on to her small breasts, and continued until he was
kneeling between her legs.
While he gave her oral sex, his erection grew and pointed further
forward. When she writhed in her orgasm, his cock twitched.
He moved up her body and kissed her. He didn’t enter her until he’d
talked some more. She even got to talk, showing how much he wanted
this fuck.
Then, he pierced her. Instead of simply getting himself off, he adjusted
himself over her. They both were talking. When he began to move, he
kissed her forehead and stayed well up on her body. He was probably
rubbing over her clit as I’d asked him to do so often, and he’d done so
seldom.
His slut spread her knees and raised them higher. Karl moved into and
out of her with long, slow, strokes until she raised her feet off the bed
and pointed her toes.
He sped up, then, and went for his own climax. You could see it in the
shudder along his frame and the clench of his butt cheeks.
Then she hugged him for a minute before he rolled off — showing his
prick flexible and glistening for further evidence. He gathered her into
his own embrace. He was talking, even allowing the girl to get a word
in edgewise now and then.
Then, she reached down and caressed him. That settled it. I’d thought
of keeping the tape out of court. Karl’s tenure has a “moral turpitude”
clause, and he’d give me everything to keep his chair. But she was
acting like a whore in my bed. I’ll show the tape in court and have her
name in the headlines. Let her suffer the exposure.