WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual activity and rough sex. If that offends you, please move on and read something else. There is something for everyone on Literotica.
~~~~~
Old Temptations
Previously faithful wife succumbs to her lingering lustful desires with her former high school sweetheart with unanticipated consequences.
~~~~~
Just like clockwork, my wife's cellphone chimed with a message not long after we finished dinner. For the last week, every night at about six-fifteen she seemed to be getting a text message. Acting unconcerned, Gayle waited a couple of minutes before looking at it.
And just as on the previous evenings, she slyly waited a few additional minutes before disappearing into the guest bathroom and closing and locking the door behind her. Later, after returning, she always seemed flustered and on edge.
Usually, I wouldn't have found anything suspicious about it. She often gossiped with the women she worked with at the law offices. I trust my wife and she had never given me any reason to doubt her.
Gayle always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. And she was highly possessive in her own right. She got jealous if I so much as glanced at another woman for a little too long.
On a couple of occasions, she had even confronted me, suggesting that I was cheating on her--which I hadn't! Sometimes she could be downright paranoid. I tried to be patient with her.
Her mother had been especially strict with her as she grew up, often ridiculing her, and there had been issues with her father and another woman, which probably contributed to her fear of betrayal.
What had made me suspicious was the changes in her behavior that I noticed over the previous week after she started getting her evening text messages. She suddenly seemed anxious all the time, even a little jittery. She avoided conversation, and that definitely wasn't like her--she ALWAYS had something to say!
Making matters worse, she didn't want to make love anymore, something we usually did every two or three days. Each night she rolled all the way over to her side of the bed and curled up in a fetal position. If I reached out to touch her, her body would shudder and she'd make an excuse, saying something like, "Not now Kevin! I'm really tired. Maybe tomorrow."
Something was obviously troubling her. But what?
Gayle and I had met and fell in love in college and married after my junior and her sophomore year. We had been the same major and we shared classes and books until we graduated. It took me an extra year since I had a job after I got out of class. Consequently, we walked graduation together.
We've been married eight years but we decided early on to not have children. Neither of us had particularly good childhoods ourselves and preferred one another's company. We were very close and did everything together. We enjoyed each other's company. And we especially enjoyed each other's bodies.
That's why the current situation was so unnerving. Suddenly Gayle seemed a million miles away. After the first couple of days, I tried to talk to her, but it only seemed to agitate her more as she tried to deflect my questions and change the subject. So I backed off.
Finally, after the third day of her strange new behavior, I was concerned enough that I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I was afraid that I was losing my wife.
I had noticed that Gayle had also been spending more time on her laptop at home than usual, and for some reason started taking it to work with her. In the legal office where she worked, she had a desktop computer, so taking her laptop along seemed odd.
I had the sense that whoever it was that she was texting and talking to on her cellphone and probably emailing or video calling from her laptop was probably the source of her strange behavior. As a result, I made the decision to do something that made left me feel really uncomfortable--yet I did it anyway!
I told myself that I was probably being paranoid and silly, but I felt compelled to get to the bottom of my wife's troubling behavior. The doubts that were swirling in my head were eating me alive.
After spending some time on my own laptop, I found two software programs that would allow me to surreptitiously monitor all the calls and texts on my wife's cellphone and another program that would let me monitor her laptop, even recording her keystrokes and passwords.
I had the programs overnighted to my office and when they arrived the next day, I took them home and late that night, after Gayle was asleep, I installed them on her phone and laptop.
Even as I installed the programs, I felt pangs of guilt for doubting her fidelity. Up to now, she had never given me any reason to doubt her. I always felt that if either of us strayed, it would probably have been me.
Gayle came from a family that could probably best be described as upright and uptight. They were obsessed with appearances. Growing up in an affluent suburb in Los Angeles, she had attended church every Sunday with her grandparents, and both they and her parents expected her to be a prim and proper young lady at all times. Being a 'good girl' was drummed into her head.
She took piano lessons, played in the orchestra at her high school and attended tea parties conducted by the Daughters of the American Revolution. Her family were rock-ribbed Republicans, salt of the earth types. Grant Woods' painting 'American Gothic' could have been a portrait of her maternal grandparents who were originally from the Midwest.
Tonight when Gayle's cellphone beeped, she was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a book while I watched a baseball game on TV as I sat next to her. I tried to peek and see the message, but she deftly had the phone angled away from me.
And predictably, after waiting for a few minutes, just as she had done on previous nights, she quietly slipped off to the bathroom, taking her cellphone with her. The only difference tonight was--I was ready!
That last night, before I ordered the software, I had followed Gayle down the hallway. Listening at the bathroom door it became obvious that she was talking to someone on her cellphone. Gayle was whispering in hushed, though excited tones. She was whispering so quietly I couldn't make out all the words she was excitedly whispering.
It was only when her voice became more excited that she became loud enough for me to make out all the words. Otherwise, I was only able to make out fragments of the conversation from her end of the call. But what I did hear was both troubling and revealing.
"Oh! It's so nice to hear from you and catch up. I'm glad you called again."
"Yes, it has been so long--too long!"