Β© 2021, All rights reserved - mimaster
Alex's indiscretion changes Christina
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday, January 21st
Try as he might, Alex got caught. He didn't know it, thinking he'd been careful. He normally was. All men think that way, especially those with high IQ's and assertive personalities. He was the epitome of an Alpha Male, operating at the top of his field in his professional life.
He was no different than other men that fit in that select category. They think they're too smart or too clever. In his case, in this instance, he simply figured his wife wasn't aware enough. He did all the right things, constantly retracing and covering his tracks. His downfall was being too lax, assuming that if he slipped up once, she'd never know it.
In truth, he was right. Christina was a lot of things, but computer savvy wasn't necessarily one of them. She wasn't stupid by any means. She was college educated, and spoke multiple languages. She was actually incredibly smart, which was one of the things that attracted him to her. He could never be in a relationship with someone that he couldn't converse with. But as with any individual, there were strengths and weaknesses. Christina used a computer, or her smartphone on a daily basis. She just never showed any expertise on the ins and outs of how they actually worked.
Alex wasn't necessarily proficient, but he knew enough to set up their home network, and he was confident in how to manage his search history to keep what he was doing from her if she ever might stumble upon it accidentally. His approach seemed to be successful. He'd gone months and months without a hint of her discovering his newfound passion. He became emboldened with each passing day, secure in the idea that his dark secret was safe. If it wasn't for an article she'd read on line that morning, she probably never would have never found out.
It began because Christina was thrown off of her routine. She was a creature of habit, finding comfort in having a daily schedule she followed religiously. Her Monday had been thrown off kilter because of a holiday of all things. She didn't get to work out because it was Martin Luther King Day, and the kids were out of school. She wasn't angry they were home, but she'd be lying if she didn't admit it agitated her a little bit.
Having to adapt her morning to deal with the needs of her children, she was resigned that she'd have to adjust on the fly, as unsettling as that made her. In truth, her kids were very self sufficient, able to take care of themselves. They gotten themselves up and made breakfast. They'd get dressed on their own later, both deciding to stay in their pajamas a little longer because they could. But as a mother she was cognizant that if they did need her, she had to be available. That meant she couldn't do what she normally would have, the most important of which in her mind was working out.
She'd done some chores, starting some laundry and emptying the dishwasher. She used a swifter on the hardwood floors to the great room in the back of their palatial home. Then she settled into the office to pay some bills online. Having finished, she decided to give herself some
me
time, knowing she'd easily be able to walk away if Tommy or Sarah needed something. She opened a browser and typed in the familiar address. She wanted to peruse one of her favorite websites to learn more about the world outside the walls of her house.
The article she stumbled upon was basic clickbait, but the headline drew her in. It offered tips on how to surreptitiously determine what's been viewed on a computer. She only tried because she figured she'd one day have to check on what her son was up too. He was only ten, but he acted much more mature than that; a trait he shared with his father. While their daughter could be precocious, the boy could be downright scary, showing too many signs of what he already knew about the real world.
The timing of the history search couldn't have been better. Or worse. Christina was shocked by the volume of sites that popped up on the list and the crudeness of what she saw when she opened the first of them. She'd never viewed internet porn before, and her eyes were opened in ways she never could have imagined. She was sickened at first by the sheer vulgarity. Then she was a bit relieved, if only in that the times and dates confirmed that her little boy was still somewhat innocent, at least in regards to sex.
Her next reaction was one of anger, because she knew it was her husband that had been looking at all of those sites. The betrayal in that moment was profound. It was like discovering he'd had an affair, and it had her questioning everything she knew about him. This wasn't accidental on his part, like he'd searched for something and clicked absentmindedly on a link that took him to the wrong place. There wasn't just the one. She discovered several of them, all featuring porn videos.
Checking deeper, she realized there was one he frequented a lot. He'd viewed over fifty videos in just a two-night period. She looked at the dates and times the links were opened, confirming that it happened that very weekend prior, when she'd taken the kids to visit her parents. He'd had to cancel going along at the last minute, having to work over the weekend on a big case that was critically important to his law firm.
She knew he hadn't lied about that. It was in all the local papers, and he'd been working incredibly long hours all week in hopes he'd be able to go. A lot of people at his office were working extended hours. That's why her initial anger over him backing out of the trip dissipated quickly. It made for a hellish weekend on her part. Her mother was an unbearable, manipulative bitch that had made her life a living nightmare growing up. She'd only mellowed once Christina found
a good man to keep her in line
. With Alex not going, her mother would revert to some of her old tactics.
She was a bit surprised she'd made it through the weekend without being whipped by a switch. It seemed plausible that it could happen without him there. After all, the evil cunt, as Christina thought of her mother, had administered that kind of physical punishment to her regularly, all the way until the very day she left for college.
She made it through that weekend physically unscathed, but the emotional trauma had an effect. She'd wished he would have been there to deflect that burden. At the very least she felt he would have been thinking of her in his free time while she was gone, knowing what she was likely going through. Instead he was coming home to an empty house, and apparently his way to relieve the stress from the case was to watch other people having sex. Her anger wasn't just that he was looking at porn. It was that they weren't having sex. At all. They hadn't been intimate
in a couple of months. It was evident that he was using porn
instead
of her, and that was crushing.
Her final response to what she was seeing on the large screen was one of surprise. Not happy. Not sad. It was a sense of confusion that resulted from clicking the mouse to open another viewed video. As she navigated through what she could only imagine was a stage of grief over the state of her marriage, she started thinking more analytically. It was how she was wired, trying to determine why Alex would be doing what he was doing. In truth, she immediately thought to blame herself, her upbringing always trying to slant her in that direction. But she quickly stopped, knowing there was more to this.
It didn't take long. Each video she opened led to the next, like they were strung together. She went in sequence, following down the exact path he'd taken the first night and picking up where he left off the next. Doing so helped her, in that she could see how his mind might have been working. There was a logical thread from one video to the next, as perverse as that seemed to her at first. She got over the shock of what she was looking at quickly, instead focusing on the idea behind the content. Why would he go there? What would he look for next? What was he seeking in his life?
The answer came as jolt. Apparently, her husband wanted her to have sex with other men. It was the only logically conclusion she could make. After all, the overwhelming majority of what she found had a similar theme. It didn't start there, mind you. The beginning of his first search was more general, that of brunette women fucking. She was a little relieved that she at least fit that category. He wasn't looking at blonde transvestites, or eighteen-year-old lesbians.
She noticed a change early on, from highly polished porn to an amateur variety. The women in the videos went from obviously paid professionals to being more down to earth and authentic. The images weren't slick and produced. They actually weren't staged at all. These were real women, having sex in front of a normal video camera. Some were in their homes, but most seemed to be in hotels rooms.
Soon after, Christina noticed a shift in the ages. The women became slightly older, the word
mature
appearing in the titles more often. There were a lot of variations within that genre. Most of the women were just seemingly enjoying themselves. Then she saw some threesomes, followed by a few gangbangs. There were even a few women having sex in public, which astonished her.
She didn't watch much at first, just clicking from link to link, trying to get a feel of what he wanted; what turned him on. It was something they'd never talked about, their sexual desires. She didn't even know what
hers
were, and yet there she was trying to discover his through internet sleuthing. In a moment of reality, she found herself closing and locking the door to the office, wanting to make sure the kids didn't interrupt her detective work.
She found herself looking at the videos longer over time, telling herself she was just that; a detective. Like her own private investigator. She was trying to determine what her husband might have found exciting. She stopped from overreacting a couple of times, realizing that one or two of his selections were very likely clicked in error. When she'd skip to the next one on the list, it would fall back in line with the logical progression of what appeared to be his subversion of choice.
When she reached the final link Alex visited that first night, she was a bit taken aback by what she saw. It was in the same mode as most of the other videos she'd seen up to that point, with one notable exception. The man having sex with a wife on a hotel room bed was huge, and he was black. She was obviously a wife, her wedding ring prominent as she pressed her big breasts together while she took a pounding. The hotel room was also pretty easy to confirm, the dΓ©cor and the garish bedspread they were humping on offering just two of the many clues. And the perfect, dark-chocolate skin, shimmering with sweat was a dead giveaway to the man's race.