I sat in my car, shaking, for about an hour. My nerves were shot. I was sweating. Unscrewing the water-bottle cap was damn near impossible with the trembling in my hands. Liquid seeped out the corners of my mouth as I attempted to drink. My mind spun between fantasy fulfillment and jealousy. “Jealousy” was probably too strong a word, really. It was more of an uncontrolled sexual angst. I wasn’t jealous that my wife had fucked the four construction workers in the unfinished garage. It was that I hadn’t been invited to join or didn’t feel like I could, or should.

Time moved too slowly sitting hidden near the neighbor’s building tucked below the treeline that ran on both properties. I fidgeted. Masturbated without completing. I wondered if she’d gone back out and did the men again or if they were now taking turns with her on my bed. Fuck! Not knowing was killing me! But there was no way I was going to try to sneak toward my house again and risk being discovered. So I just sat there, stewing, shaking. Eventually the molasses clock got late enough that I felt like I could take the short jaunt up the hill. In my rear view mirror I saw that white pickup truck with the trailer in tow heading away from my house. I inhaled deeply then reversed onto the gravel road.

Within seconds I was pulling into my driveway toward where the current garage was located. I glanced at the scene of my wife’s gangbang, the now nearly completed new garage, and felt a thrilling wave flow through me remembering the sound of her voice when one of the men made her climax. He would have to review the footage from his hidden cameras to know if she had fucked them in the house as well. The thought turned him on and at the same time saddened him that he didn’t have the courage to watch or join.

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There was an uncomfortable silence between us tonight. Nan didn’t talk much. Eye-contact was at a premium. She went to bed early. She looked tired. I knew why. I wasted no time in hurrying to my office and turning on the computer. My cock was already at full mast anticipating what I might see.

The camera focused on the garage area was the first I watched. The audio was muffled, but I definitely heard the exact same sounds on the footage as I had heard hiding under the garage window. I listened again to my wife cumming and the sound of the men talking dirty to her. I could only briefly see glimpses of her or one of the men through a window frame closest to the house. But for about three minutes I could see my wife’s face in that window. The angle and the movement suggested she was getting fucked doggie style. She turned her face toward the window and her eyebrows were severely pursed and her mouth agape. Her head moved back and forth in time with the pounding she was getting from behind. Then her eyes popped open and she moaned loudly, looked back at whomever was behind her and told him to cum. I had my cock out of my pants so fast watching her and was on the verge of cumming myself before she left the frame. It must have been the concluding orgasm because the sounds were soon muffled and some laughter amongst the group teased me.

My wife wobbled out of the garage after telling them that “the garage wouldn’t build itself” with two glasses of lemonade. I saw her dump the glasses, pause, disappear toward the window under which I had sat listening to her fuck the men. There was a change in her demeanor when she returned into view. She seemed in a hurry and her face looked serious. Nan went into the garage and quickly returned toward the front door of our house with the rest of the empty glasses and lemonade pitcher.

I switched cameras to the one in the living room. She rapidly moved to the kitchen so I hurried through that camera’s footage to see what she was doing. Nan started looking around the house. She was opening cupboards, turning over plants, looking at random electronic devices. It was erratic behavior, like she had taken a drug that made her paranoid and wild. She was searching for something…she was searching for something!

I panicked. I realized that Nan was looking for my hidden cameras. There was no doubt in my mind that this was what she was doing. I ran through my mind wondering how she might have discovered. Until she had went to the area where I had hidden there was no sign that she had a clue or a suspicion of what I had been doing. At least this was as far as I could guess. But I got particularly nervous when I saw Nan stop what she was doing and stare at the fire alarm hanging above her in the kitchen. She just stood there, studying, as if she were looking for a clue, like a light or the reflection of a camera lens. She even climbed a stool for a better look. Apparently satisfied with her investigation, Nan climbed off the stool and headed towards our bedroom.

Inside the bedroom I watched Nan go to my bedside stand where I keep my various daily accessories: my watch, my wedding ring, my alarm clock, my phone, and my wallet. Nan pulled something from the band of her skirt that I had not noticed until that moment. She held it in her hand for what seemed like an eternity before lifting her hand in the air, slowly turned at her hips from side to side presenting that which she held in her palm. The camera was unable to clearly identify it but she sat it on my bedside table. Nan crawled into bed and appeared to drift off into a nap.

Odd, I thought. I couldn’t understand what exactly she was doing. Maybe it was just more erratic behavior. Maybe she actually had something of mine. I ran my palm along my wrist and found my watch. I ran the same palm then down my thigh and confirmed that my phone continued to rest securely in my front pocket. I ran my palm down the back of my pants pocket. As the sounds of nail guns fired through my computer indicating that the workers had indeed gone back to work, I realized that my pocket was absent a wallet.