This Is Your Lies Chapter 7
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I don't know what they said next, I was too numb. I couldn't hear the words. I had planned to watch but couldn’t bear it. Any thought of telling them they were still on camera had gone out of my head, pushed out by the sick feeling and the tears.
I left the cameras recording and retreated, looking for my whisky. I opened the drinks cupboard and looked at the bottles. I had four different single malts, plus a few exotic bottles from European holidays. Trying to focus on what to drink stopped me and even as my hand reached out a little voice in my head said "No!"
I actually turned around to see who'd spoken and stopped again. I must have stood there five minutes before I got my thoughts together enough to know that booze was not the answer. Ellen must be having an affair, had been having one for a while, and she was stringing me along. She was using our bedroom fantasies about hot-wives, sharing and all that, to blindside me, setting me up so she could carry on her affair without having to be secretive.
I closed the booze cupboard and made coffee instead. I could go to the hotel, accuse the two of them, but what would happen? I'd have to say I'd bugged them, have to own up to my fears and probably lose control of everything. They would both know how vulnerable I felt. They— well Guy anyway— would have the upper hand. I had no idea what Ellen would do. I had stopped listening to them so maybe even as I was standing here panicking she might be telling him there was no way she was leaving me, or maybe not. Right then, even though I desperately wanted to know, I didn’t feel strong enough to find out.
I sat at the kitchen table and made toast. I poured the coffee away and made tea; thick, strong, sweet, milky tea. Builder's tea they call it here in England; The kind that big sweaty men drink from flasks amongst the dust and rubble. Just what I needed to drink, sitting in the wreckage of my marriage. Tea and toast, the solution to every problem.
Slowly, I got my brain back in gear. One voice told me it was my own fault. Why didn't I trust Ellen, let her have her fun, rely on her to come home, tell me about what happened, delight in hearing her story, do what we always planned and next time Guy would come here and if he overstepped the mark I'd be on safer ground.
Unless... unless Ellen was planning to leave. What about the kids? Was she planning to take the kids, have Guy bring them up? He had kids, would they take both broods? His were older than mine, nine and eleven compared to our five and seven. Could I condemn my kids to being little brother and sister to... well... to some other children I had never met, knew nothing about and who might take it out on my kids because they'd lost their mother and had Ellen as their wicked stepmother.
Horror stories flitted through my brain but it dawned on me slowly, somewhere around the end of my second dose of builder's tea that there was a long game to be played here.
I needed to talk to a lawyer, and I needed to know what Ellen would say. I needed to play back all of the tapes of their whole night and the morning. The more secret recordings I had, the more cards I had to play. Right now they were confident that I knew nothing.
I decided that when Ellen came home I should also record what she said. How to do that? A technical problem to solve was exactly what I needed, something objective to engage my brain. Most likely we would talk in the bedroom or if not that then the living room or maybe the kitchen. I needed to bug all three rooms and maybe the bathroom as well. For a change, my lack of experience and former incompetence came to my rescue. I had ordered too many of the cameras that I'd used at the hotel, but where in the house to put them, how to conceal them?
In the light of what had happened this evening, Ellen would very likely spot a new clock appearing so that was out. I thought about drilling holes in the ceiling but doubted my ability to get everything done and made invisible by the time she came home tomorrow.
I spent half an hour walking around the house trying to look at each room with fresh eyes before an answer dawned on me. We have a lot of books, so many that there are some in every room. If I took a thick book and dug out a cavity inside it, I could set a little camera there and have it look out through a hole in the spine. These things are less than an inch cube and they can see though a hole less than a tenth of an inch. I spent the rest of the evening wrecking some books that I knew Ellen would never be interested in and implanting mini cameras. Old battered books, too damaged to send to Oxfam were exactly the thing. No way a little spy hole would be noticed.
By midnight I had them positioned amongst other books in the living room and the bedroom. In the kitchen I took a risk and put a camera in an old cookery book that I know Ellen never uses and left it on top of a cupboard. Ellen would need a step ladder to get it down so I doubted that she'd bother.
It was past midnight by the time I had everything done. I had them all on voice and motion activated recording and assuming no more than an hour or two of recording each day, they were good for a week. I did't sleep well but I figured that was no bad thing. I made myself breakfast in the morning and waited to see what the day would bring.
Ellen sent me a message saying she'd be home by lunchtime. I called a lawyer and had a long conversation and took down some details about divorce. One thing was clear, Ellen had to be the one who did the leaving. If I wanted to keep the kids then I had to set things up so that she left me. That way I could keep the kids until enough time had passed that she could demand a divorce and by then I ought to be able to prove that I was an okay parent. From what the lawyer said if I moved for a divorce too soon, then most likely she, and that would mean Guy too, would get custody of my kids.
That got me to 11.30. I took a deep breath and played the beginning of the tape again. I sat through the part when I phoned and Guy made fun of me, thinking I couldn't hear. There wasn't any doubt that this was not their first time. How long had it been going on? I listened to another few minutes and was not much wiser. It did upset me. I let myself cry some. That was no bad thing, apart from being painful, pitiful even; if I looked strained and a little red-eyed when Ellen got home that would tell her more than words.
Every now and then I checked Find-my-iPhone to track Ellen's progress and set about laying out a salad. I smashed up a few onions to make sure my eyes stayed exactly how I wanted them to be and then binned the onions. I had something good looking on the table when she arrived.
I saw her car pulling in so had the front door open for her before the engine stopped. I watched her face as she picked up her bag and locked the car.
It’s never a good idea to look at someone when you’ve already made up your mind— you see what you want to see. I knew that, so was on my guard, suspecting myself as much as suspecting Ellen. Through all that double think I’m sure the smile was forced when she saw me, tense to begin with, then maybe relieved to see me, maybe not relieved, more kind of relaxing into familiarity.
She shut the car door and headed towards me. I was ready to kiss her but she stopped short.
“You’ve been crying.”
I started to mumble something but didn’t get very far.
“Love,” she said “you’re not supposed to be crying. You gave me a treat, you’re supposed to be pleased.”
I should have been pleased to see her, should have been engaged but all I could think about was whether what she said would be recorded.
“I made lunch,” I said, turning into the house. “I thought you might want something. I couldn’t decide if you’d be hungry or exhausted, did you get breakfast at the hotel? They are supposed to do a good one, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Poor you, love,” she said. “It’s really got to you hasn’t it? You’re babbling with nerves like a first date.”
"Well it was a first date. I mean is a first date isn't it?” Stupid, I almost gave away what I knew. Now wasn’t the time for revelations.
"How do you mean?"
"It was a first for you and Guy. Your date with him may be over but my part isn’t done yet. It's a first for me.”
"Oh I see what you mean," she said.
I hesitated a second. "There’s more to it than a night with him, there’s what it does to us, too?”
I'm not a great actor but it wasn't a problem to let my anxiety colour my voice, this time it was a question and full of doubt and lost confidence.
"It's upset you a lot, hasn't it."
"It's my fault," I said. "I shouldn't have taken that video. Seeing that little clip when I phoned you, the two of you seemed so easy together. I thought you'd be nervous, like strangers, a little awkward, but you looked like a couple. It spooked me, I thought I'd lost you."
"I'm sorry, love," she said. "I think I was excited and the room was so romantic. Did you organise those flowers and the scent thing? It made it lovely. I think that relaxed me."
"Yes," I said. “I added the extra touches. I have to go back and collect them later today.”
“Won’t the hotel have cleared them away?”
“I booked a second day so I could clear up.”
That stopped her in her tracks for a few seconds.
“You booked two days?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“You might have stayed both days and I couldn’t have coped with that. It would have killed me. Without you. Without the kids, I’d have felt like it was the end of everything.”
Whatever I said, wherever the conversation turned, it felt as though it always came back to me being weak. Ellen was the strong one, and I was the sucker who couldn’t cope. I had to find a way to break out of this trap.
“Don’t worry about it, love." I said, still kind of husky but getting it together. "You’re back now. It doesn’t do any harm for me to find out how much you mean to me.”
“Could we stay there tonight?”
That thought had not crossed my mind.
“We could,” I said, without giving it much thought and even as I said it, I realised that none of the devices had wires, I could collect the vase and the mirror and the clock and there was no way that Ellen would know about the cameras. The door handles would be a problem, but I'd find a way. Why not both go? The idea of reclaim sex in the same room had an exotic appeal but there could be a downside, it gave her a direct comparison between me and him. If I was less good in bed; in that exact same bed, where did that leave me? Every move I made could be compared with his.
“Let’s do that,” Ellen said.
“Could we eat lunch and then go? I know it’s not the best ever...”
“But you’ve tried,” she said. “I really appreciate that.”
“I was thinking about you all the time.”
“When is your mum bringing the kids back?”
“She’s taking them to school so we pick them up as usual tomorrow."
We had the rest of the day and night clear, so we ate the lunch I'd made. Ellen made all the right appreciative noises and my anxiety settled somewhat. The hard thing was keeping my focus. I had to be sure what she really wanted. If she was lying to me, stringing me along, I had to know what her game plan was in the long run.
Was she planning to leave me and go off with Guy, hoping to take the kids with her, or was she stringing him along too. As far as I could see she was lying to one of us, but which one? Did she even know? Did she string us both along, saying whatever got her through the day with whoever she was with?
I needed proof but at the same time I didn't want to screw everything up by making a mess of what time we had together. If she hadn't made up her mind then I had to be worth spending time with or everything would be screwed anyway.
Was Guy a better lover than me? I knew I had to watch the videos, but I couldn't do that with Ellen, so somehow or another I had to find the time. The one thing I did have was some Viagra, at least I could make sure that my performance would be as good as it could be.
Thinking that, set me spinning again; if I needed Viagra to keep Ellen I’d be taking the stuff for the rest of my life; maybe it would be better to stick to nature. A night at the hotel, with everything recorded would at least give me more evidence and a chance to have a different kind of conversation. Sitting across the kitchen table or trying to be serious in the living room are one way of doing things but both of us might end up walking on egg shells; desperate not to upset the other or get too tied up in things so that one or other of us misunderstands something important. A night in in the same bed she'd shared with Guy could be dangerous but it could open up stuff that might be impossible anywhere else.
Two hours later we were in the hotel.
"Well?" she said. "How does it feel?"
"Freaky. The last time I was here I hung up that mirror and arranged the flowers."
"How come the hotel let you put up the mirror?"
"I swapped it for the picture that's in the wardrobe. I thought they might change it back when they cleaned, but that would be after you'd left."
"Such a clever boy." That got me a kiss and a hug.
"I'm curious though, why did you think it was a good idea?"
I couldn't exactly say it was a 3D camera. "I had a week to think about it,” I said. “I guess all sorts of things played on my mind but I kept having a recurring image of you doing cowgirl on top of him. I thought his cock would be bigger than mine and you'd want to make the most of it."
She giggled.
"I know," I said. "Sad isn't it."
"What?"
"My inferiority complex. Is he much bigger than me?"
"Is that the right thing to be talking about? It's not a competition."
"If I'm giving you a treat then it needs to be something special doesn't it... the thing is... I probably shouldn't be saying this..."
She stopped unbuttoning her blouse and waited. "Should I sit down? Do you need to sit down?"
"No, it's okay. Let's not make too big a thing of it. It wasn't easy— you know, setting this place up. Being here, thinking about it. Being at home, not able to see, all in my imagination. It had to be worth it."
"And that meant he had to be bigger and better than you?"
"Mmm, that's what I talked myself into. Was that crazy?"
She hugged me again and with her arms around me she nuzzled my ear.
"Not crazy," she said, "but maybe you were making too big a thing of it. Maybe I just wanted a change, something different, something to convince myself I wasn't missing anything. Does that make any sense at all?"
I had no idea what to say. Ellen looked at me, kissed me and then stepped back.
“You look exhausted. I think I got more sleep than you did. I’ve had an idea. Why don’t you have a nap for an hour or two. I want to get you a present. I should have thought about it before. Set an alarm, have a nap and meet me in the restaurant at four. They do a delightful afternoon tea.”
"Isn't that supposed to be at three?"
"Well, yes," she said, "make it three thirty, I should get done by then. Order me something nice in case I'm late."
I couldn’t think of anything sensible to say. She took my jacket off, undid my belt and pushed me onto the bed. In a few seconds she’d pulled my jeans off and wrapped me in the duvet. She kissed me, picked up my phone and set an alarm for two forty-five. She kissed me again and was gone a few seconds later.
I lay there bewildered for half a minute before I got my head together. Maybe I could sleep, but not before I'd dealt with the bathroom doorhandles. Ten minutes later I reset the alarm and buried my head in the pillow. I woke at twelve thirty as the phone beeped at me.
As soon as I woke, I booted up my laptop. The easiest thing was to look at what they did this morning. I thought that would tell me more about what they were up to, if they agreed any plans for the future— for my future.
I tried to guess when they might have gotten up and skipped to eight-fifteen in the morning. Guy was dressed in a bathrobe sitting in a chair reading. Ellen was naked kneeling at his feet with his cock in her mouth.
Not good. Don’t get me wrong, seeing a woman as good looking as Ellen sucking cock is arousing but it was Ellen. As fast as my cock was rising my stomach was sinking.
On the video there was a knock at the door and room service arrived with breakfast. Ellen got up, brazenly naked and took the tray from the waiter. That shocked me, she’s never done anything like that with me. She let the waiter out, placed the tray on the table in front of Guy and went back to sucking his cock.
Guy put his book down and began to eat breakfast, ignoring Ellen. There was no food for Ellen. I watched him chew some bacon, then calmly spit it out onto a side plate. He did that with half his food. She carried on paying attention to his cock. When he’d cleared the plate he stood up and headed to the bathroom, ignoring Ellen who stayed kneeling where she was.
Ellen looked awesome naked, she had nipple clamps on with a gold chain between them and she was wearing a black leather collar with gold studs to match the clamps and chain. I had to run the tape back a little to study the waiter, first time around I’d been transfixed by Ellen. The waiter was a shocked as I was. I felt sorry for him, it’s a wonder he didn’t collapse.
When Guy came back, he was carrying a glass of what could only be his pee. He poured it into the bowl that contained the remains of his breakfast cereal, set it on the floor in front of Ellen and put the plate of chewed food in front of her. I watched amazed as Ellen licked the food off the plate and sucked and slurped the mix of pee and cereal from the bowl.
While she was doing that he showered, got dressed and headed out, almost completely ignoring Ellen, occasionally patting her head as if she was a dog. I couldn’t watch any more.
I stopped the tape. By then I had no idea what I’d been seeing. I hated Guy. Why would anyone treat my wife like a dog? Yet she seemed to like it. How long had this been going on? To break someone’s will like that, to totally beat them down must have taken a long time. To be so cowed that she happily lied to the father of her kids, put at risk the family that she had so much invested in. Was it blackmail? Did he have something on her?
I dressed conventionally, but it took me a heap of mental energy to look like a normal person who was pleased to see his wife when I strolled into the restaurant. Ellen wasn't there. I found a table where I could be seen from the door and ordered tea and my best guess at Ellen's favourite pastries.
Ellen strolled in five minutes later. She'd had her hair done but there was more to her than that. There was something about her walk, her back was straighter, her tits were pushed up and out. It took ten steps before I'd decided that she must be wearing a corset or a basque under the dress that flowed around her. Her heels were a notch higher than usual and that threw her hips forwards. My wife was sex on legs and she drew every eye in the place.
I should have been delighted but after seeing her eating off the floor like a dog, naked and with cum dribbling down her cheek, I no longer had a clue what to think. My doubt and confusion must have been written all over my face. Anyone watching, and almost every man in the room was watching, must have thought I was a stranger who had no idea why this amazing woman was coming to his table.
"It was a bigger deal than we thought, wasn't it," Ellen said as she sat down.
“You can tell?” I said, trying to sound resigned. I had no idea how big a deal it was but I had to find out. “Is it fair to ask what you did with him?”
“Love, today’s about you and me. My treat was yesterday, yours is today. When we go back upstairs I’m going to show you how grateful I am.”
I started to feel like an idiot. Sitting there with the most beautiful woman in the room and I was looking glum. I wrenched my gaze away from the table cloth and found myself staring into a mischievous grin.
"Was it good, what you did with him? Did you get what you wanted out of it?"
"I did," she said. "I know you wanted to watch but I don't think you would have enjoyed it. That's why I'm not telling you about it. I think having the room for two days is brilliant. I don't know why I didn't think of it, but you did. Such a clever man."
So that was it, all I was going to get out of her. Somehow or another Guy had a hold over her, treated her like a slave, like a dog and she was going to keep it a secret. What else did he have on her? What else was he going to make her do?
"Look," she said. "I know it wasn't easy for you, but that's how it goes in this game; but remember it is a game, and you've made it a lot better by booking the extra day. I was worried about how I'd make it up to you and you've solved the problem. Make up sex, reclaim sex, whatever you call it will be so much better here than at home."
"Why?"
"Home is the same old, same old isn't it. I know the kids won't be at home but everything else will be the same. Here it's different."
She ate a cream cake as I looked at her, deliberately getting cream around her lips and licking them in the most lascivious way imaginable. "Come on, eat a cake, smile for me. He's gone, it's just us and we have a whole night ahead of us. I want to turn your camera back on. I know I said no recording, and it feels like cheating to not let you see, but we can turn your clock thing back on and record us. If we drop dead and someone goes through our things it'll be you and me making love that they find. That's how it should be."
What could I do. I ate a cake
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