I am in a strange predicament, as I caught my son and his friend having sex with my passed-out wife. I failed to intervene – I was as aroused as I was upset – so I decided to get a spy cam installed. If I happened not to be home, I could then see – and more importantly, record – anything that goes on like this again.
It'd been about three weeks since the last incident occurred. I had raced out that next day after Todd and his friend played with my wife, and bought an Xtreme Life smoke detector camera and replaced the aging smoke detector in our bedroom (I also had to replace four others, so as not to arouse suspicion; I got up on a ladder right in front of my wife, who knew no different. I felt like Agent 007).
The best thing about the unit I purchased, for the high-dollar value, was that it could be monitored from at least two mobile devices. I downloaded an app on my cellphone and my laptop so I could "tune in and turn on" whenever I chose to.
My wife Steph had been battling a sore throat of late, and the "horse pills" she takes are aggravating and hard for her to swallow, to say the least. Her major meds for her rheumatoid arthritis do not come in gel or capsule form. During her recent Orencia infusion, her rheumatologist recommended we just crush the pills up and either take them with a yogurt or pudding, or just wash the crushed-up powder down with water.
My wife is no wimp when it comes to taking medication, so other than the sore throat, she said, "Why ruin good yogurt?" We crushed up her tablets and took them that way.
I had been watching footage of some video I had shot with the smoke alarm cam. Nothing at all. That was good ... and, in a curiously bass-ackward way, kinda a letdown.
I constantly think back to that night of sexual deviance, and remember how hard I got, and how I practically ejaculated without even touching myself, watching and listening to the sexual assault on my wife, in my own bed.
Todd was around the house one day and asked what I was doing when I was pulverizing his mother's two pills. I explained it, and showed him how it's done in case I am ever out of town and Steph needs his help. He observed appropriately, and took a mixture up to his mother.
A couple days later, I was assigned to cover a Friday night high school football playoff game up in Austin. It's about a six-hour round-trip drive, so I knew we wouldn't be getting back until about 2 or 3 a.m. that Saturday morning. In fact, some of the crew wanted to just spend the night in order to hit the Austin bars after we'd filed our reports, and then drive back in the morning.
I informed Steph and Todd, as well as my daughter, Marcy, who goes to school about 20 miles from the football stadium site. I met her for an early dinner before heading to the game, which turned out to be a 56-9 blowout. The Austin powerhouse ran roughshod over our Houston area team. It was so depressing; I decided to head home and let my two younger co-staffers party hard in Austin.
I started driving home and stopped at a major highway interchange to get gas and an energy drink, to make sure I got home. I was about 100 miles from home when I stopped. I went inside the truck stop to pay for my gas with my phone account, when I looked down and saw a folder on my spy cam app. I hadn't checked it in a day or two, so I thought I would take a look when I got back to the car.
Back in the car, I clicked the app, opened the folder, and killed out all the old dates. I then clicked on "Live" and – I almost wished I hadn't. I IMMEDIATELY wished I hadn't – but was glad I did.
The camera view is, of course, from the 8-foot ceiling above the bedroom door. What I saw made me shudder – my naked wife was on all fours, facing the headboard. Some guy I had never seen before had his hands in her hair, pistoning his cock in and out of her mouth. He was yanking her head, on, off, on, off, on, off his obviously hardened cock.
The mic with this cam is weak, but the picture is insanely sharp. I could hear him moaning, and saying, "Yeah, awesome, yeah, this is great, aww-www, yeah ... Mmmmm suck it, bitch!" His head was tilted back a bit and I could see his eyes were shut, as he continued to slide his spit-slippery dick in and out of Steph's mouth.
Another guy, a black kid, was fucking my wife! He was on his knees pumping her doggy style. At first, he had his hands on her hips and was thrusting into her – sometimes very hard, forcing her to take the other guy's cock deeper into her throat. Then he would hold her really tight and rip off a series of short and fast-as-lightning strokes into her pussy.
He came close to Steph, leaned forward onto her back and was playing with her tits, first his left hand, then his right. I couldn't see the action there, but I suppose he was squeezing and mauling her breasts, and playing with her pencil-eraser-sized nipples.
There were three other guys in the room, all obviously arounf Todd's age. Two were dressed, and one only had on boxers and was squatting on the bed with his cellphone out – snapping photos or recording video, or maybe both.
Holy Shit! I couldn't believe this chaotic scene – and Steph looked like she was awake! What the Fuck?
I got out my laptop – bigger screen, better view – and hit the app there. By the time the app opened, the black kid had moved up to her head and was rubbing his cock on her cheek, while yet another guy, still clothed, was kneeling below Steph and munching on her clit.
Steph's body was reacting to the throttling that her sex organs were receiving. It was pushing forward and backward, meeting each pulsing thrust into her throat, and grinding down onto the tongue attacking her clit.
All of a sudden, I heard laughter, but didn't see anything. My son Todd walked into the room, right underneath the smoke detector, with yet another guy – Brian, one of his high school buddies he had hung out with since grade school.
