Chapter 9: Sees of Suspicion

It’s not uncommon for people to fantasize about a threesome or what it would be like to watch their spouse or significant other having sex with another person, regardless of the combination or ratio of genders. It takes a tremendous amount of maturity, communication and, most of all, trust to engage in that kind of sexual activity. Many people regret it when they come to realize the act itself was not as riveting as the fantasy.  Jealousy, resentment, anger, and distrust are frequent and sad endings.

When Bill posted the ad on Craigslist, I was not at all confident he would find another crossdresser willing to engage in what he proposed.  I was wrong – so wrong. Dozens of CDs responded, but only three met Bill’s careful (and experienced) scrutiny with a photo exchange eliminating two of the three. That left Steve.

Steve was not a crossdresser but was open to it and most everything else Bill proposed.  He even agreed to the condition that there would be absolutely no sexual contact with me and acknowledged the pursuits would be exclusively between him and Bill. Other conditions included no kissing or anal penetration except with dildos or other toys. My role was to pay the Dominatrix, which wasn’t altogether what I wanted from this rare experience, but once again, it was all about Bill.

A few weeks later, after we had drinks a few times to get to know one another, we met at a hotel for the big show. Bill dressed in hot pink platform shoes, pink stockings, a white tutu skirt with a pink see-through thong underneath, and a white and pink polka dot mid-drift shirt. I wore my Dom outfit with black spiked heels, a leather skirt, matching bra, and black lace-up gloves. Steve changed into a plain thong and black heels.

The festivities started with a couple of shots of liquid courage. It helped take the edge off the unspoken awkwardness we all felt. Bill and Steve sat side-by-side on the bed, and I was standing in front of them, unsure if it was up to me to say “ready, set, go” or what.

Although Bill had told me on several occasions that he had never been with another man, he displayed no anxiety and seemed quite at ease even before the tequila. Bill made the first move when he reached over and began stroking Steve’s cock. Steve returned the gesture, and the game was on.

Bill arranged a second round a few weeks later that played out much as the first but with more intensity. Somehow, the intimacy of their contact appeared so familiar to Bill – he showed no hesitation or nervousness whatsoever. I might as well have not been in the room.  Neither one of them needed me to act as dom this time. All I did was stand around, observe, and take pictures.  

Bill was quick to try for a third, but Steve came back with a few conditions of his own. One was that I was directly involved and on the bed with them.  Two, there was less oral sex between him and Bill. Having me involved in that way was not an option for Bill, and that was the end of our dates with Steve. Bill went back to Craigslist with a new ad, but nothing panned out – or so I thought.

Six weeks later, I returned home from dropping Brian off at his dad’s house and running errands. Through the kitchen window, I saw Bill sunbathing naked by the pool; his tan skin glistened in the sun. I remember thinking how handsome and sexy he was – and how much I missed the intimacy of making love.

Margaritas sounded good along with surprising Bill by joining him with no clothes on, but before I could turn around, Bill picked up his phone and began typing. Because of the angle of the sun in early December, Bill had moved the lounge chair close to the house, and it was clear he was receiving and sending texts.  I didn’t think much of it until he unexpectedly began stroking himself to an erection. Moments later, he began taking a video and snapped several pictures of his achievement.

My initial reaction was to turn away, but I couldn’t. I had to watch this play out. Bill began texting again, and there was no mistake he was sending the pictures to someone, but it wasn’t me.  My phone remained silent. The kitchen door was slightly ajar, and I leaned in to hear the telltale dings of text messages coming and going.

I continued to watch and listen for a solid 10 minutes or more before I burst through the door, demanding to know who he was communicating with and sending pictures of his erect dick. There was no doubt I took him off-guard, but he remained cool, calmly closing the apps on his phone and placing it between his legs as he covered his still erect cock with a towel.

Bill had the audacity to deny he was doing any such thing, which only incensed my anger even more. “How can you deny it?” I yelled.  “I’ve been watching you for over 10 minutes. I stood less than three feet away as you masturbated, took videos, and texted them to someone!” If he had told me it was Steve, I likely would have believed him and the argument would have been over, but stupidly he said it was not Steve.

Bill continued to deny what I saw, and it quickly turned into the first real fight we ever had in the short nine months since we married. It got loud and vulgar before Bill stormed back into the house, accusing me of being irrational. The accusations of me being irrational and crazy just made an already incredible situation that much worse. I began crying and screaming about my greatest fear of engaging another man was that he would never again be satisfied unless he had the “real thing.” Everything I knew to be true or suspected was met with staunch defiance.

After two days of arguing and another few avoiding each other, we were at a stalemate.  I refused to change my mind about what I witnessed, and Bill refused to talk about it. On more than one occasion, Bill had told me that most criminals in his law enforcement experience were really stupid, but a few of them knew how to survive interrogation and often a conviction – by keeping their mouth shut even when the evidence was obvious. And, that is precisely what Bill did – he refused to talk and stood firm that I did not see what I alleged. Duck, dodge, and deny.

I was beside myself with frustration and anger, and I was determined to find out what he was up to and with whom. What else didn’t I know but could no longer avoid finding out? The premonitions from the voice inside my head that I had silenced all those months since we met was finally front and center saying, “I told you so.”

The seeds of suspicion had taken root, and I was going to nurture them to maturity.