The Perfect Crime Pt. 02: The Payback

This is Chapter 2 I have been sick in the hospital, but now I am back. Thanks to Sithlord for acting as editor. Hope you enjoy it.

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The Perfect Crime, Part 2 - The Payback

James:

That Friday, I got a text from my loving wife that she had a girl's night out bridal party and would be late getting in. (Right!!) I had not had a chance to talk to Pete about my situation, but I wasn't concerned because I was working on my vows of chastity. I waited till I was sure she was out of the house, on her way, and I spooled up my app and checked her progress. She was over on the other side of the airport, then it stopped. The phone said a place called the Lucky Shamrock Bar & Grill. I got the address and headed out in jeans and a polo shirt.

I arrived at the location and saw about twenty or so cars in the lot. Not knowing where any surveillance cameras might be, I parked the Bronco on the street about half a block away. I walked up to the place, saw a neon sign that said "Adult Entertainment."

I walked through the parking lot, looking for Sonia's rental. I found it around the left side of the building, towards the back. It was about 10:00 p.m., and she had been there for about an hour. 'It must be hopping inside,' I thought.

I walked in the front door and encountered- 7 guys sitting nursing drinks. No flock of women, and no Sonia! I went over to the bar and ordered a Bud. I paid and asked the bartender where the crowd was. He gestured to his right, where a big dude sat at a doorway without a door, just a beaded curtain.

I waited, and barmaids made a run through the entrance about every 15-20 minutes. I stood, strolled over, and went to enter, and the big guy stopped me and said, "$50 bucks".

I nodded and handed him $60. "Keep it," I said. He nodded and motioned me thru the passage. I walked down a long dark hallway to another door, this one closed. Another big dude sat there on a stool and looked at me. I motioned to the door. And he shook his head and told me, "$50 bucks gets you to look; If you want to play, it will cost more."

"Oh? How much more?" " $200 gets you a hand job, $350 gets you a b/j, $450 you can screw her once, $550- you can fuck her twice, and $800 gets her ass." I started getting an awful feeling in my gut. 'How do I know she's worth it?' "Lady Sonia is the featured Friday night show every Friday." I was sick. 'I'll scope it first.' I walked into the viewing room to my right. It was dark. One of the bar girls was just leaving. It was dingy and smoke-filled. There must have been 25 men in there.

To the left was a long window, 25 feet by 6 feet high. The other side was brightly lit, with four cameras up high. A couch on the left side inside the door, and a raised platform in the middle of the room. On the platform was a superior padded mattress, and on the mattress was a naked woman, dressed only in 4" heels and lace top black stay-up stockings. One guy was fucking her mind out, and one guy was getting a blow job. She was jerking off two guys simultaneously. I had found my wife.

Do you know how they say once you see something, you can't unsee it? I will never forget what was revealed before me.

I stared, she came once, like a small volcano. The guy pounding her snatch tensed and dropped a load in her. She convulsed and rose off the bed in ecstasy. He pulled out and was quickly replaced by another. The one with his cock in her mouth moaned, shrieked a little and filled her mouth just as one of the guys she was stroking off shot all over her tits. 'That's it, I can't take anymore,' I thought and turned and left. I told the guy at the door I had to hit an ATM, but I would be back.

I left the bar and ran to the Bronco. I made it halfway, just to the edge of the parking lot, when my stomach decided it didn't want the remains of lunch, and I heaved and retched till I was throwing up bile. I got to the truck, and opening the door, grabbed a rag that I used for checking the oil. I tried to clean myself up, but that was a waste of time.

I got in and drove home. I don't remember the ride home, but the next conscious thought I had was staring at my three-car garage door, thinking it was a little dirty, and needed to be pressure washed. That's when I started to cry.

Like I was five years old. Screaming and yelling and beating the steering wheel of my poor Bronco. I don't know how long I sat there, it felt like forever, but eventually, I shut off the lights and the engine and went inside. 'She will pay for this.' 'I'll get Pete on it Monday and get documentation of everything. I'll threaten publicity and divorce her.' I grabbed the Chivas bottle and drank about half before I staggered upstairs and into the shower, fully clothed. I puked again and got out and toweled myself off. I crashed on the bed and chased sleep.

I struggled up through a swirling haze and barely regained consciousness; I was facing my clock- radio and realized what had awakened me at 4:30 a.m. was my wife crawling into bed. She had looked down at my slumbering form, and I remember hearing," Must have been a hell of a night, what with the fucking mess you left in my house. You pathetic, cucked, wimpy bastard. Won't belong, now." She turned off the lights and rolled over on her side of the king-sized bed. 'Tomorrow, we begin. I'll invite Pete to lunch, and we'll launch the scorched earth campaign.'

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Sonia:

I went to the Shamrock at my usual time and got set up for business at about 10:00 p.m. I stripped down in the ladies' room to my stockings and stared into the mirror. I cupped my breasts and squeezed my nipples, making them stand out. I slipped into my 4" 'fuck me' pumps, and took the Pill from my purse, and popped it into my mouth. A cup of water, and I was ready. I checked my makeup, just slutty enough to look hot.

I strutted out to the "performance area" and took off my robe. Jeremy, my protector, came over, rubbed my shaved pussy, squeezed both my breasts, and smirked at me. I reached down, unzipped him, and unleashed his 8-inch cock. I bent over and swallowed him to his pubic hair. I started to fellate him, and then my body temperature started to increase, and I could feel the pill beginning to take effect. I popped him out of my mouth and climbed up on him, and with practiced ease, impaled myself in one easy motion. 4 strokes, and we both climaxed.

I was ready and primed. I dropped off him and cleaned him up with my mouth. I turned and sashayed over to the mattress, climbing onto my "throne," and said," O.K., let the customers in."

Within ten minutes, I was almost entirely occupied, and 6 minutes later, I was doing my first anal, with two guys sitting waiting on the couch. We were doing a pretty brisk business. Ten minutes later, I took a slight break and drank some mineral water. I was coated in sweat, cock cum, and pussy juice. Several guys were licking my body, sucking my boobs, and cleaning the residue off my chest. I called this free snacks, and it seemed to be a big favorite. These were not precisely upper-class customers.

"O.K., boys, back to business. Who's next?" I lay back down and started doing business again. I had everything occupied, except for my ass, when I realized that the guy fucking me knew what he was doing. I started to roll up on an orgasm, and the guy I was blowing began to tense up.

I could anticipate the two of them approaching fulfillment, and my body reached out and went along for the ride. I had a small volcanic eruption, and as the guy filling my pussy boiled over, it hit me, and I arched my back, screamed (as best I could with a mouth full of cum and cock), and convulsed.

As my orgasm passed (only my third of the night), I had a horrible feeling, as though someone had stepped on my grave. I spat out the guy's prick and sat up on my elbows and arms, and looked around. Everything looked O.K. No one else looked concerned, but the feeling seemed to hang over me.

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James:

I woke about 10:30 that morning; Sonia was in the shower, so I walked into the master bath and drained my lizard. The shower door was steamed up, so all I got was an outline of a naked body. I shook it and went and pulled my sweats on. I would shower later. With my coffee finished, I drew a mug full. About 10 minutes later, the slut came downstairs, a t-shirt, jeans, heels, with her hair in a ponytail. That long, lustrous blonde hair." Want a cup of coffee?" I asked. "No. I have a hair and nail appointment. I'll call you later." And out the door, she flounced. "SLUT."

I thought. 'Well, this will end soon.' I rinsed my cup out and put it in the dishwasher. I went upstairs to shower, and when I got clean clothes to put on. I picked up my messy clothes from last night (you didn't think she would, did you?) and started laundry. I was just getting ready to call Pete when something paused me.

I realized I hadn't checked the camera feeds in a couple of days (actually, since I had installed them.) I went to my computer and pulled up the cloud. They automatically uploaded to the cloud, and I didn't anticipate anything earth-shattering on the video (WAIT FOR IT!!) but maybe the audio... Whatever I had, I could give to Pete. Wednesday, Thursday, And Friday- zip, nada, nothing.

But Saturday morning showed the queen of porn coming home. I still liked looking at her; she had a body to kill for. I saw her come in, take off her blouse, and walked into the bathroom -with her HUGE Dolce and Gabbana purse. The camera in the bedroom shot right into the bathroom, right up to the shower door. She then came into view from the left, picked up on the camera over the mirrors. She kicked off her shoes, dropped to a sitting position, and reached into the bottom of the linen closet.

"Huh," I said. She pulled out two large toilet paper cases, some large beach towels, and some bathroom cleaning supplies. She then reached in and popped up the floor of the cabinet. She pulled out a plastic storage case. She unsnapped the lid and reached into her purse and pulled out three large wads of cash. She counted them quickly and put them in the box. She pulled out a notebook, opened it, and made some notes. She put everything back in place. Then she stood, stripped down, and showered. She finished her shower, and toweled off, then came into bed. She did her little soliloquy and pulled up the covers, taking her half of the bed out of the middle.

'WHAT THE FUCK?' I thought. I jumped up and ran upstairs, into the bathroom, and dropped to the floor. I pulled out the t/p, the towels, and the cleaning shit-brushes, sprays, chemicals- and stared at the bottom of the linen closet. 'Let's see, now,' I muttered. I pushed on the floor, around the edges, and finally, it popped up. I took out the panel, and there it was- a plastic box, gun-metal gray. I reached in and pulled it out and noticed that on one side of the opening were three ledgers and a file book. I dragged them out. I knew what was in the box, but the books were new. I opened the oldest log, dated on the cover, and started to read. My whole world came to a screeching, destructive end.

It started when we met. Her parents were working class and struggled to put her through college. SHE felt entitled(her words); SHE partied her way through a business degree (her words) and then met me. SHE figured I was her ticket out(HER WORDS). SHE seduced me (HER WORDS) and led me around by my cock(She said). We graduated, I got my first lawyer position, and we got married. First shock- 2 weeks before we graduated, she went home to visit her folks because she said, "Her dad had been sick." She went to a clinic and had her tubes tied. She wound up staying with friends for three weeks, giving everything time to heal up. She came home and said she just got her period. 'I won't have to worry about kids,' she wrote.

The rest of our marriage's first five years was her fucking me and everything else she could find. She contracted 3 STDs and complained of urinary infections. Then she started everybody who was tapping her using condoms, telling me she wanted to begin a career before having kids. (Heard that one before???) She scaled back her sexual escapades over the next five years and slowly started our sex life dropping off. I didn't notice because I was working my ass off( O.K., I was a dumd shit. Suite me I was in love with her). She got a job as a currency trader, and I started my shop. Life appeared to be pretty good.

(SUCKER!!) That was when she hooked up with Marcus Blaine and started her sexual exploits. She also started a company, Sonia, Inc. She was filing separate tax returns and doing quite well, with extensive real estate holdings. Everything was paid for by her porn activities, which came under the heading ("Events of a Personal Nature"). That brought us up to the end of the third ledger. Forgive me if I leave out the sordid sexual details and constant husband bashing.

It appears that she and Marcus had something planned for February next year. I picked up the report binder, four rings, and plastic sleeved. Inside, 2 Argentinian passports, 1 for Sonia and 1 for Marcus; an itinerary, starting on Valentine's Day, at 10:00 a.m. with a flight leaving for Mexico City. 'Not very smart. I can get them there.' The reservations were in their names. The second leg out of Mexico would be with clean, new Mexican passports, to Buenos Aires. From there, they flew to Johannesburg, South Africa using the Argentinian passports. Using South African passports, they flew To Madagascar. Then She went on alone to Malta, on an Italian passport, and then to Cherbourg, France, and then to Switzerland. WOW!! My soon to be ex-wife, the secret agent. No divorce just disappeared. It would take seven years to have her declared legally dead IF she were missing.

Inside several of the plastic sleeves were small spreadsheets, with over 25 separate accounts showing overseas deposits in various countries, totaling approximately $25 million. They had exit accounts set up, so the funds could be transferred several times, all ending up- You guessed it- in Switzerland. But it was the last page that was very interesting.

It detailed something called "Seal Team"- a program that, when activated, would send all the accounts scattering around the world on their way to Chocolate land. Then all the transactions and the "Seal Team' program would vanish, leaving only the clandestine accounts from the beginning with a $0 balance.

The kicker was that all the spreadsheets headed "Sonia's Copy," except for the "Seal Team" one, which headed "Sole Copy." Unless I missed something, she was going to abandon her fuck buddy in Madagascar penniless. I could hear her telling him, "I have a hair and nail appointment. I'll be back in about an hour and a half." It serves him right. But based on everything I had heard and read, it wasn't going to happen. I was already formulating the plan.

I photographed everything in the ledger, the itinerary, and the spreadsheets, and it turned out, all the codes for the accounts. Then I returned everything to their cubbyhole and just closing up when I saw the small notebook. I opened it and saw the last entry." $ 8500 to N.C. Beemer." North Coast Beemer. The entry said, "The fucking cuck makes me pay for my own car repairs. I'll fucking show him."

Something inside me died. I took $10000 out of her box, placed the rest of everything back in the box, and put the box back in the linen closet. There was a small chance of her missing it, as there was more than $175000 in the box. I put the t/p back, and the towels and cleaning supplies. I got up and went downstairs and called Pete. "I got a job for you, but it's personal." "No problem, boss. Where and when do you want to meet?" Denny's, in a half-hour." "O.K., see you then." I hung up and picked up a t-shirt to wear. Out the door, and me and my Bronco were cruising to Denny's.

I got a booth in the back and waited for about 5 minutes. Pete walked in, saw me, and walked over to me." O.K., boss, you sounded upset. What's going on?" "This stays between us and no one else. Understand? "Sure," he said as the waitress delivered coffee and a menu.

"Sonia is cheating on me. Every Tuesday, and Thursday, at the Radisson, with a guy from her work. One Marcus Blaine. I want pictures, video recordings, anything you can get."

"Wow, boss. That's the last thing I would have guessed. Are you sure?" "Yes, unfortunately." O.K., I can start Tuesday. I'll follow her from the time she leaves the house till she gets home." We had a quiet lunch, and I left to go food shopping. I picked up the groceries, and while I was walking around, I spotted some old-style diaper pins. I bought two cards of 12 each. I checked out and headed off to find a thrift shop.

After four stops, I found what I was looking for: a field jacket, ex-military type, coming just to my butt cheeks. Not very worn, and with a zip outliner. I paid cash and drove off looking for those Halloween stores that pop up at the beginning of October. I found one 15 miles out of town, in a small strip mall. I went in and bought a good quality, fake beard and mustache. I also picked up a scar appliance for my forehead, one for my left cheek, and a ball cap with a blonde wig. All paid for with cash from Sonia's box.

I drove home and took my goodies into the house and stored them in my small closet. (Guess who has the double walk-in?) She called about 5:30 and said she was on her way home and wanted Italian dinner out. I got to choose. (Whoopdeedo!!) I shit, showered, and shaved, and dressed nice. She breezed in and went up and soaked in her garden tub. Then, dressed like a high-priced courtesan, 4 ½ inch heels, and seamed stockings, she came down and beckoned me off the couch, and said, "Let's go." We went to Romano's, got a table, and had wine and drinks. Dinner was quiet, and she looked around, flirting occasionally. Finally, some guy came over and asked me if he could dance with my companion. "He doesn't own me," she said, as she rose and took his hand. He gave me a look, as I did a slow burn, and led her onto the dance floor.

To Be Continued...