Nighttime Confessions - Continued

(This continues a story first written by Capecodmercury. He left his tale open ended and suggested a continuation by anyone who wanted to take a shot at it. His story intrigued me and I asked his permission to continue it. I have also left my tale open ended and would be curious to see how another would pick up this thread. I do suggest that you read his first - this will then make more sense .)

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My name is Donald Prescott. I think that my wife is cheating on me and I'm not sure what to do. I'm not sure if this is the first time, or if she has cheated on me throughout our marriage.

My wife's name is Margaret but everyone calls her Marge. She is 39 years old and still has a terrific figure. I don't really know her measurements but she fills out a bathing suit very nicely. We have been married for 16 years and have, for the most part, been happy - or so I thought.

We have two children: Brad is 14 and Sarah is 12. They are both good, normal kids and I love them very much. Since their mother is a physical education teacher they are heavily into sports. Brad is a soccer fanatic and Sarah is into gymnastics. I don't get a chance to see the events in which they participate too often as the hours I put into my job prevents a lot of that. I am an office manager. Not too exciting, but my income along with Marge's pay as a teacher, keep us living well.

I met Marge while on a canoeing outing. She had conned herself a spot in our group by claiming to be experienced. They paired her up with me and it soon became obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. Fortunately, she was fit and with my guidance soon developed enough skill to to do the job.

Our relationship developed and we eventually married. To many it seemed an unlikely pairing. Marge was outgoing and extroverted. She excelled in all types of sports and participated whenever possible. I was a real klutz when it came to organized sports. I had never played a sport growing up and had never really had any interest.

It's not that I am a couch potato. I developed a passion for hiking kayaking, white water rafting and anything to do with the wilderness. Participating in this activity kept me very trim and fit. People do not notice me usually, as I tend to be a bit shy and withdrawn. I am of average height, thin and wiry. I may not look very strong, but people would be surprised at the power behind my muscles. Muscles developed hiking, rock climbing,etc. I also jog regularly and I watch my weight.

I thought that Marge and I had a strong marriage. I know that I loved her and I imagined that she loved me also. Our early years together were good. We both worked and did not have many money problems. Sex between us was good, even though we were both relatively inexperienced. I was intimate with only a few girls before Marge, and she indicated that her partners were few and her experience limited. I had no reason to doubt her

Our sex life began to suffer a little with the birth of Brad. Between my long hours at work and Marge's time divided between the baby and her other activities, we found ourselves too tired at night to do much beyond a kiss and a hug before falling asleep. When we did have the opportunity to have sex, it was usually quick with little foreplay. We both did enjoy the intimacy and closeness after having our orgasms. I never complained because it was evident to me that Marge wasn't all that interested in sex. While she seemed to enjoy it occasionally, it wasn't something that really turned her on. I guess that I just resigned myself to a life and marriage whereby sex between us was secondary.

The first real problem in our marriage occurred when Marge was pregnant with Sarah. For some reason, she became cold and withdrawn. Of course there was no sex anyway because of her pregnancy, but even the caresses and kisses stopped. I put this down to her pregnancy, but it was a very cold and chilly time in our household. More than once I asked her why she was acting the way she was, but that just seemed to anger her all the more. I was truly fearful of our marriage. I knew that I couldn't stand a marriage that wasn't loving, and it seemed that we were headed for divorce. I think that the only thing that kept me from leaving was the imminent birth of our daughter.

I tried to be as understanding as I could. I did everything I could think of to make her happy. I was a kind and considerate husband, but that didn't seem to impress Marge. It was quite awhile until she began to treat me not as a pariah, but as her loving husband. I never did comprehend why she had fallen into such depression.

One of my male friends, in response to my complaints about how chilly my home had become, indicated that Marge may have found out about the bachelor party. I reminded him that I did not participate in any of the shenanigans that night. In fact, I left early with another of the guys and we spent the next hour over a cup of coffee and pie at IHOP. Anyway, Marge never knew how that party had degenerated.

The only other time that I felt that our marriage was in real trouble was when Marge discovered that Barb and I were in her bedroom for over a half hour. Barb was a neighbor who had thrown a going away party as she was moving out of state. She had been recently divorced and kind of leaned on me for support during a difficult time. I like to think that I was of some help to her with my advice and sympathy.

Anyway, a nosy gossip filled Marge's ear about my so called tryst with Barb, indicating that we were closeted for quite awhile in her bedroom during that going away party. What no one ever knew was that Barb was confiding in me. She felt she really wanted to get off her chest the fact that she had also cheated during her marriage and she felt guilty as sin. I tried to console her and give her a shoulder to cry on. It soon became apparent to us that our disappearance may be misconstrued and we should rejoin the others.

Marge was sure that I was having an affair and it was difficult for me to convince her that she was wrong. I had vehemently denied her accusation, but of course I could not tell her the nature of the conversation that Barb and I had. Her story was told to me in confidence and I would honor that. Barb's confession would never leave my lips.

I did notice that during the past few years Marge and I had been steadily drifting apart. She was so wrapped up in her coaching and in her teaching job as well as her other allied activities that she had little time for her husband and partner. I had made numerous attempts to talk to her about her busy schedule, but she tended to minimize my concerns. After awhile, I just gave up and learned to live with the situation.

I also began to notice that there was more than one teacher at her school that came into our conversations. How Frank was so athletic, or how Jake made her laugh, or how whoever was so masculine. These remarks did not go unnoticed and I felt their sting. I don't know if Marge was doing this with the intent of hurting me or whether they were just innocent comments. Comments like those did make me very uneasy. Over the past couple of years, more and more of those comments concerned her boss, Frank Morello. She would drop little remarks about how fit he was, or how muscular he was Then she would complain that he was coming on to her. Then that would stop and she would not mention him at all for awhile. I am not an insensitive man. I began to suspect, if only unconsciously, Marge's fidelity. At least I began to be more observant.

Many Saturdays evenings were fulled with parties thrown by one or another of her co-workers. Every one seemed to enjoy these get-to-gethers, expect me. I always seemed to be the odd man out. I saw how Marge came alive, chatting with one guy and then another. She always seemed to be with one guy or with a small group of guys, seldom with the women there. The guys were always the jocks. They seemed to attract her. She danced with many of them, but I never saw anything untoward occurring. I did notice a brief flash of impatience on Marge's face if I ever attempted to cut in.

It was on one of these parties that I really lost it. I noticed that Marge seemed to be dancing more than occasionally with Morello. Then I saw him, quite blatantly, put his paw on her ass. She did reach back and remove it, but didn't really seem terribly offended. In fact, she quickly looked around her to see if anyone had seen what happened. She didn't notice that I saw, I seemed to be the celophane man.

I felt my blood boil and I knew that I was seriously angry. I waited for Morello to stroll outside, which he did occasionally. I followed him and got into his face. I told him that I didn't appreciate him pawing my wife. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward him, asking me what I was going to do about it. I have to admit that I lost control. I took his hand and just bent back his wrist. He made an attempt to wrestle his hand away, but I had him in an iron grip. I forced him to his knees and bent over so that I was close to his face. I whispered to him that I would put him in the hospital if he ever put his hand on my wife again. He seemed stunned by my strength and by my anger. He shook his head yes, when I asked him if he understood. He never went near Marge, at least when I was around.

What really caused my doubts to blossom was when Marge came home, all excited, and told me that she had been selected as one of the school's two representatives to the annual State Athletic Association Convention. She didn't even ask if I could accompany her. She just assumed that I would not be able to go. I acted as I was supposed to, very proud of her and very excited at this opportunity for her. Privately I wondered why she had been chosen. While I knew that she was very competent in her work, I didn't think that there was anything to distinguish the year from others in her department. It wasn't long before I discovered exactly why Marge was chosen.

It was when I discovered that Frank Morello, the school's athletic director and Marge's boss, would be the other representative that my suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Now that made me nervous. This is the guy that Marge had been mentioning as so fit, so great at his job and so masculine. She may not have realized it herself, but I definitely saw that she was attracted to him. Had she been cheating with this Morello and would she continue to do so at this conference???

Marge is nothing, if not clever. She came to me with the concern that Morello would use the conference as his opportunity to seduce her. I couldn't believe how brazen she was. She was already covering her ass. I pretended to be very receptive to her worries and suggested that she just avoid having any contact with him during the conference. It was a silly suggestion, I knew there was a very real possibility that Marge would either continue an affair that was already in progress, or possibly welcome Morello's interest and begin an affair that she was looking forward to.

The whole idea of Marge's betrayal and probable adultery at the conference was turning my brain to mush. I couldn't concentrate on my work and it was difficult to maintain a semblance of normalcy at home. I also noticed that our sex life, not very active in the best of times, had virtually dried up. Marge didn't seem to interested and I had lost any desire for her. Ever try getting excited with a woman who barely hid her contempt for you?

I came to recognize that our marriage was probably headed for the divorce courts and that my future was going to be a lot different that what I had imagined. I also realized that my suspicions were all conjecture and that I needed hard proof, at least for my own peace of mind.

I couldn't stand the uncertainty of it all. I had all of these suspicions bouncing around in my head, but I was level headed enough to realize that I may be making mountains out of molehills. I certainly didn't want to go off half-cocked and then find out that I was totally wrong. After all, all of the incidents that I had magnified in my mind could have totally innocent explanations. It was the uncertainty of it all that was driving me crazy. Is Marge cheating with Morello - was Marge going to cheat with Morello???? It was driving me nuts.

I had enough, I had to come to some kind of resolution. Thank goodness the kids were away at overnight camp for a couple of weeks. I called the airline and bought a round trip ticket to the resort of the conference. Then I called my boss and told him that I needed to take about three days off, using my comp. time. He was a bit reluctant, but he sensed the need in my voice. I think that I might have quit my job if he refused me. I packed and was ready to leave on Wednesday morning. I transferred all incoming calls to our home phone to my cell. I didn't want anyone to knew where I was, especially Marge.

The plane arrived at my destination in the early afternoon. I quickly exited the airport and picked up my rental car. I had the location of a nearby costume shop which was not far from my hotel. The costume shop had exactly what I needed. I purchased a nondescript baseball cap, a pair of large horned rimed glasses that had a slight correction in the lenses and a fake mustache. Proceeding to my hotel, I registered and took the elevator to my room.

Slinging my bag on the bed, I collapsed in the armchair. I felt totally spent, The intensity of the past hours had come to an end and left me feeling exhausted. I looked at the bag that contained my purchases and almost laughed. Who the hell did I think I was, James Bond?? I recognized the absurdity of of what I was planning. I was going to make a total fool of myself. I struggled up and emptied the contents of the bag on the bed. I picked up the baseball cap and slipped it on. I never wore a hat and it felt strange and a bit uncomfortable. I picked up the spectacles and put them on. The slight correction seemed to strain my eyes a bit. I then looked in the mirror and literally took a step back. I didn't know who that was in the mirror. I realized that disguising myself was perhaps not so foolish after all.

I continued with my preparations, sticking the fake mustache on my upper lip, and looked in the mirror again. I was stunned. I didn't recognize myself and I doubted if anyone else could. Perhaps I could pull this off, it seemed much more likely then I had thought a few minutes ago. The ringing of my cell phone startled me and I picked it up - it was Marge.

She sounded wonderful, excited and ebullient. She told me that she was having a wonderful time and thanked me for my suggestion. She told me that she would thank me properly when she got home. I told her that I was happy that she was having such a wonderful time and that I couldn't wait to see her. I was planning on seeing her a lot earlier than she thought.

I tried to relax and catch my breath. I had been operating on stored up emotion and I recognized that I had to regain my calm. I had to be methodical and focused. First, I kept telling myself that now I would finally catch Marge in the act. Then I kept reminding myself that it really wasn't fair to accuse her of adultlery without one shred of proof. I kept vacillating between accusing Marge and then defending her. I finally gave it up and tried to get a couple of hours of sleep. I needed to be clear headed.

It was getting dark before I got into my car and headed toward the resort, which was about 15 minutes down the road. I parked, made sure that my disguise was in place, and strolled into the vast lobby of the resort. I quickly looked around, but saw no one I knew - big surprise. I wandered over to the dining area and placed myself behind a potted palm and scanned the room. I saw Marge almost immediately. She was seated with four guys and three other women, none of whom I recognized. I didn't see Morello anywhere which reassured me a bit. I figured that the night was young.

I knew that I couldn't stand there too long, I would become conspicuous, so I wandered and made my way back occasionally. They eventually left the dining room and went into the lounge where they gathered around a couple of table and ordered drinks. I thought that I started to see a pattern. They seemed to be seated in the same order as in the dining room, almost like they were couples. I don't know why, but that feeling of unease was becoming stronger. They were doing nothing that could be construed improper, but there just seemed to be a familiarity that was unusual.

It wasn't too long before they all arose and headed out of the lounge. It was a bit sudden and I was fearful of being spotted, despite my disguise, but Marge and her group passed by me without a glance. I followed discreetly behind them, down a corridor and watched them enter a large double suite that had a sign on the door identifying it as a hospitality suite. I knew that I couldn't go in there. I would be totally out of place. They closed the door and now I had no idea what was happening . I knew that there were quite a few people in there so I was fairly certain that I had nothing to worry about. I thought that I would just wait until they exited. The sign stated that the suite would close at 11:00 p.m.

Well, 11:00 p.m came and went and while quite a few people exited, I did not see Marge, or in fact, any of the other members of her group. I started to worry - what was going on?? Then I remembered that in the glimpse I had gotten of the suite I had noticed that drapes covered one wall. I surmised that it must be a window wall and perhaps I could go outside and check if there were chinks that would allow me to look into the suite.

I quickly went out of resort doors and started walking around the hotel. Most of the windows on my left were conference rooms and resort offices. I finally came to large windows that were covered with drapes. I figured this may be what I was looking for, but I also discovered that there were large shrubs in front of the windows. I looked about me, but saw no one. I ambled over to the shrubs and saw that there was about three feet of space between the shrubs and the drapery covered windows. I slowly insinuated my self in that space and looked for a chink in the drapes. I was lucky, the very bottom of the closure seemed to be a bit askew and by squatting down I found that I had a pretty good view of the interior of the suite.

At first I was puzzled, there seemed to be no one in the suite. Then I made out two figures on a love seat against the wall. I saw Marge seated with one of the men from that group. I looked around the room quickly and could make out another couple in the far corner. They seemed to be having intercourse in a standing position while fully clothed. They were grinding together and kissing passionately. My attention went back to Marge and the guy with her. I was a bit confused. I fully expected to see Frank Morello, but he was no where in sight. The guy on the sofa with Marge was someone I had never seen before. I knew that he wasn't one of the jocks from Marge's school, or a member of the teaching staff there.

Returning my attention to Marge, I saw immediately that this guy had his hands all over her. He was massaging her back, rubbing her shoulder and then I saw him put his hand on her thigh. Were my deepest suspicions coming true? I closed my eyes and prayed that this wasn't going where I thought it was. When I opened my eyes again I saw that they were wrapped in an passionate kiss. Anger started to build in me. Not a hot rage, but a cold, frigid icicle that stabbed me in the chest. This was a guy she had met at the convention, I was sure. She was making out with a stranger. If she was able to do this with someone that she hardly knew, what on earth had she done with guys that she saw on a daily basis and knew?