Preface to My Short Story. I normally don't write in the 'Loving Wives' category, but this category seems so ripe for some useful maneuvers using artificial intelligence. Leave me your ideas for more LW tactics in the comments section below and perhaps that'll be a future story. ;-)
A.I. and the Cheating Wives
I thought my wife was cheating on me, but I was having a big problem proving it to myself. I would also have to prove it to others eventually, so I used some technology to solve my difficulty.
While I am a Geek -- that's with a capital 'G' -- and love anything 'Computer', I am also what I think is nice and sociable guy with some southern charm. I'm a Georgia boy: borne, raised, schooled, live, and work there. I have a circle of friends and am somewhat athletic. Since college, I jog and occasionally play golf on weekends, usually walking the eighteen holes with a pull cart. I only weight ten pounds more than I did when I graduated high school and went to college. I eat healthy.
Camryn, who everyone calls 'Cam' was my wife. She's a doll, and the antithesis of my Geekness or Nerdness. She's really social, and was a social butterfly in college where we met at a fraternity party. We got along, we dated, we got more serious, we got engaged just after our graduation, and married a year later. We were both twenty-three.
Cam is 'Hot'. She five-foot-five, blue eyes, natural blonde, and stacked. She won a couple of beauty contests before she got to high school, where she got into cheerleading and expanded her social life when her parents allowed her to start dating. She was even the homecoming queen her senior year. I didn't know her then, and how we ended up together was a slight mystery to me.
Cam took a degree in 'Business' in college, where we met. I was a computer science major, and I specialized my last year in cyber security and artificial intelligence. I went to work for a company that uses all that stuff, and Cam got a job helping evaluate insurance claims for a company not that far from where we rented an apartment. We lived and worked near Atlanta.
We were the Happy-Go-Lucky couple in our mid-twenties, and were 'up' for just about anything. We worked hard and played hard. Cam drew me out of my introvertive shell. We were at a party or cookout of some kind most weekends, and became close friends with Jake and Jenn, and Ross and Holly. If I say so myself, we were all handsome, gorgeous, athletic, and dedicated to getting a solid start on adult life.
I worked with Ross. Cam worked with Jake. Their spouses had other jobs around the area -- one in real estate, and one in a trust bank. We each had aspirations to make more money than we were, so were dedicated to our work during the week. That said, none of us were even close to rich. We lived near each other, but not in the same neighborhoods, and all our houses were small rentals. Ross called them 'Starter Homes'.
About six years into our marriage, things had slowed down to sex only a couple of times a week, and we were obviously taking each other for granted more than not. We made assumptions about the other that were accurate more often than not.
Holly, Jenn, and Cam started to have a girl's night out. That's when Jake, Ross, and I started to have a simultaneous poker night, joined by Aaron and Dean -- both lawyers and neighbors that the other guys introduced to our table. Our wives would congregate at one house or another and then head out as we broke out the cards and chips.
I was slow on the uptake, but a few things finally got my attention after we'd had this routine for Friday nights for over six months.
First, the evenings had gotten later and later. We would play cards and drink until the three women would come back from their girl's night out, and then end the card game. At first that was around nine-thirty, but over those months it became more like midnight. There always seemed to be a good explanation: a great band, dance demonstration, a floor show where they went, and so on.
Second, our lovemaking subtly slowed over that time period to once or twice a week, with twice becoming rare. I sensed Cam's lack of enthusiasm, but didn't call her on it. Further, we weren't making nookie on our Friday party night despite my interest in the subject.
Third, a night or two during the weeks leading up to the six-month mark for the Friday party nights, Cam would work late. She'd rarely worked past five or five-thirty in the past, so this was a sudden departure from normal, and was a weekly event. On 'late nights', she'd be home around eight o'clock -- nothing outrageous, but career building she said. She'd come in, shower and change into casual clothes, and then eat a late dinner, particularly if I'd prepared something.
Fourth, I started reading erotic stories on Literotica, particularly the Loving Wives stories. Those in turn made me suspicious as all fuck about what Cam was doing (a) on her late work nights, and (b) on her girls' night out.
My first foray to see whether there was anything I should worry about was simple. I made sure the Find Friends app on her phone was working, and that I could see where she was.
I found it odd that she went back to our house at lunch time mid-week for over two hours. She was late that night, and I didn't say anything that evening when she got home. She never mentioned it, only that they had an endless backlog of claims to process at work. I felt something was more than a little off about that.
My second incursion into surveilling my wife was to put two simple cameras around the house while Cam was out shopping one Saturday morning. I put one outside looking across the front of the house past the front door that we use all the time, and the other in the bedroom with a view of our bed. I'd always wanted a door cam, and if Cam was cheating in some way, I figured she'd use our bed.
I learned little. Cam did go home midday the next Thursday, was alone, and never went into the bedroom. I wondered whether she'd discovered one or both of the cameras.
Friday night, things did get more interesting. Based on the Find Friends app, the girls' night out consisted of dinner at a popular restaurant and then a visit to the Memories Lounge about five miles north of our home just off one of the main highways. I knew little about Memories. Cam had never mentioned going to a club and my nose twitched at her dancing and drinking with not only her girlfriends, but whoever else happened to be around.
I visited Memories late on Saturday afternoon while running errands, just to check out the place. My take was that it was a Meat Locker on Friday nights when the lounge got into the full swing of things. That gave me pause for thought. Over a beer, I asked the bartender about webcams, and surprise upon surprise, they had four online webcams: three overlooked the crowd and tables from several angles, and another swept over the dance floor and the band. The four cameras streamed to the Internet to promote Memories as the hip place to go. A few seconds later, I was watching myself on my iPhone as I finished my beer and headed home. I knew what I'd be watching the next girls' night out.
