Tricks and No Treats

In their plan, I'd come home, walk in, hear her in the bedroom, screwing the neighbor. This was another part of the plan with a huge risk factor. Since the upstairs, or first floor was on that hill, and our bedroom was basically situated near the front of the home, Mia and Pete discussed having the window open, and the screen previously removed. That was in case she couldn't calm me down, and it gave Pete an escape route of about four feet to the ground.

Mia was meticulous about how the simulated sex would go down. That was the main topic of their second meeting on October 23rd. Mia had purchased a micro bikini - that she claimed she'd wear for me, amongst other things she described doing to make things right after the fact. She had Pete trying to wear those silly bottoms to cover his junk. After going into our ensuite and returning twice, Mia realized how lame that idea was. He was a young fit guy, so she couldn't get the string hidden in his ass crack, and his dick was constantly hard, in anticipation of the 'practice' I guess, and kept flopping out of the barely 'there' fabric.

I was pissed for other reasons. This fucker was using my private bathroom to prepare himself to dry-hump my wife. They laughed and giggled and joked about his predicament, like a couple of school kids. The fact that Mia was making what looked like incidental contact with his genitals hit me the hardest. Finally, Mia took the bottoms to one of her 'regular' bikinis and cut off the strap that went over her behind, then tried taping just the front to Pete.

That only worked until they got on our bed - my fucking bed - and started practicing. The tape she'd used only stuck to the hair on Pete's legs, not his skin. As soon as he started his rhythmic movements against her covered crotch, the dreadful boner sprung from its confines, and rubbed against her panties.

As soon as she felt it, she stopped their little practice round. Despite what seemed like good intentions, I could tell by her voice that she was enjoying herself. She probably stopped him, so she didn't have to explain cum stains on the comforter.

The minute I stopped watching was the moment I knew for sure my marriage was dead. I'd been sitting in my car watching it all on my phone and it was time to go home. I couldn't imagine how I was going to act normally around her, so I stopped at the party store for a six-pack.

I was able to act distracted, making up an excuse about a problem at work I couldn't decide how to handle. She was all lovey and wanted me to tell her about it. I told her I'd rather be left alone to my thoughts and I think I kept her from sensing my true mood. That night did lead to my next concern, which was how was I going to handle her initiating sex until D-day.

The answer to that came the next day and it was a good thing. She wanted to fool around -hah, 'fool' around - but I'd resolved that I would simply fuck the crap out of her. I reasoned that our life together was over, so why shouldn't I take advantage of my beautiful wife for my pleasure?

That's what I did. I pounded my way through two orgasms, and to my surprise, she had at least four. Just one more thing I didn't know - she craved rough sex, something I normally didn't provide her.

I had plenty to do while working full-time. The first thing was to speak with the owner of the shop. Carl was about forty and was on his second marriage. I opened up fully to him and explained how my wife planned to reach out to him.

I found an attorney in the suburb on the other side of Battle Creek and made an appointment. I didn't want to risk exposure going to one of the two in our small town. All of the recordings would be saved so I could later manipulate them.

The pair's third meeting was a bit different and caused me yet another little shift. Mia must have decided that playing the prank in our bed would be taking things too far. Maybe she only worried that she'd never be able to explain it. Either way, the venue was changed to our living room. Pete offered to bring his video camera and tripod. His original idea was to watch their practice and make sure they were believable as I would walk in on the fateful day. Mia realized it was also a means to prove that 'nothing really happened.'

Somehow, watching them in all their glory, instead of the blurry, twisted forms through a lens, through a snow globe, only made things worse for me. Pete kept screwing with the camera angle. I wanted to scream through my phone that it wouldn't matter, not with the cheapest camera available at Walmart. My spy devices were doing a better job. Of course, he was an amateur and I played with pixels for a living.

At one point during their hour-plus encounter, Pete's giant gauze pad fell off, and he was again sliding his bare cock along my wife's covered slit. It was clear as day that she was enjoying herself. Another sickening thing between the two was how they 'played' along with each other like it was game night or something. Neither pushed the envelope; Mia never touched his dick and Pete didn't lean over her back and grab a handful of tits. But what they were doing, regardless of how 'clean' they tried to keep it, was way over the line. The worst part was how they had themselves convinced it was all good fun.

That gave me a new idea and one more thing to do. By their fourth meeting, on the 28^th, just two days before showtime, I'd completed most of those things and had my plans solidified. The appointment with the attorney, Jon Cameron had gone well. He'd cautioned me about doing anything stupid when I walked into the house. Since it was all being recorded, by me and by my wife, who planned to use it to prove her innocence, Jon thought all of my recordings would be admissible. He warned me that knowing it was a prank and seeing it with my own eyes were two different things. Jon coached me to leave immediately and not to lose my temper. I think he knew what a gift of a case he'd been handed and wanted to ensure nothing went south.

I'd taken a small amount of our savings, to offset my costs thus far, and to book a hotel room until Mia could be legally removed from my house. I'd put a minimal amount of clothing from our room in one duffle bag and a backpack. Mia would never notice. Then I spoke to my boss again. After listening to him being empathetic, he made it clear that whatever I did, it wasn't to come back on his company in a negative way. He promised to play along with whatever Mia asked him and not give anything away.

That last meeting was a mixed bag for me. It was clear that that day was Pete and Mia's idea of dress rehearsal as both wore their stupid masks. For the first time in two weeks, I was reminded that we were hosting the neighborhood Halloween party as we had the past two years. Besides neighbors, some of Mia's co-workers would be there, and most likely, Brian and Brianna. That added another two things to my list of things to do, which I did, right after watching their morning together.

After about twenty minutes and several minor camera adjustments, the two pranksters sat on the sofa with cups of coffee. I noticed Pete was sitting much closer to my wife. I think the irony was lost on them. Mia must have thanked him a half-dozen times for helping her with the trick.

Pete reiterated his concerns: was Mia sure this was a good idea? What if she underestimated me? What if I became violent? Could it potentially cost her marriage?

Mia calmed all of his fears. Then he asked the obvious and all-important question: why? My wife's answer shocked me.

"Because of what he did last year," she stated with a far-off look. "Troy hurt me. My brother and sister too. Originally, I felt betrayed by my siblings, but I soon worked through that. We'd all been playing tricks on each other for as long as I can remember. I won't say I've never played a hurtful prank but Troy pretending to leave me for another woman... did something to me, inside. It took some time to identify exactly what it was. I'd lost trust. Not all of it, but some parts of me had less trust in my husband than before.

"We rallied," she continued, "and put it behind us. But the bad thoughts never really went away. I'm hoping that making him experience what I felt will tip the scales back to balance."

What a stupid woman, I thought shaking my head. Two wrongs never make a right. But then Peter verbalized my next thought.

"But," he said carefully, "it's not the same thing, is it? I mean, he implied cheating, by pretending to leave with another person, but you're taking it up a notch. What if he feels even worse than you did? How long will it take for Troy to get over it? I don't know, it just seems an incredible risk to take."

There was my neighbor, playing the good guy again. When Mia claimed she didn't know the answer to his questions, I finally saw the side of Pete he'd been successfully hiding.

"Well, besides the sex you've already promised to compensate me with," he smiled coyly. "If things don't work out, I'm putting my hat in the ring right now, as your first backup option."

Mia laughed. "Hold up there, Romeo," she teased. "I promised you a handjob and if I'm in a good mood that day, were my exact words, a blowjob. I'm not looking to replace Troy. I never said anything about sex or intercourse."

Their juvenility made me want to puke. Pete was exactly the lothario I'd originally thought him to be, except he was the meek, mild-mannered kind - the kind who played the long game - while maintaining his halo. Still, it struck me again, what guy would pass on a woman like Mia?

Mia's idea of revenge was so extreme that I had to ask myself why I'd never noticed this side of her. I knew the answer. Just like Peter, I'd been thinking with my small head. But Pete was sitting right there, knowing what they were about to do, understanding and even asking about the implications, and he didn't see it either. He wasn't bad-looking and at the neighborly get-togethers, he usually had a date. Not a nine, like Mia, but an average seven-point-five. At that point, I half-expected, and probably wouldn't even mind seeing her dish out a handjob or blowjob. All the important damage was done.

I spent that night in the downstairs apartment, clipping and splicing all the recordings. Sitting in a chair facing the staircase, I did it two more times until I was satisfied with the finished product. Mia never came down, but when I went to bed, she was waiting.

"Baby, I'm horny," she said devilishly. "Come give your bad girl some lovin."

I did just that. It would almost certainly be the last time I ever had sex with the woman I'd always considered out of my league. Why not end the dream with a bang?

Again, Mia had several orgasms and complimented my roughness and determination. She actually said 'determination,' as if that was somehow part of screwing your wayward wife into the mattress. I was moving through the five stages of grief at breakneck speed.

The next day, Tuesday, the 29^th, I was off work, thanks to Carl giving me the extra time. I drove into Kalamazoo where there was a Halloween megastore. I was hoping they still had the costume that caught my eye last year. It would be perfect for my incognito Halloween party appearance.

Most young men learn life lessons and, hopefully, not by ending up in prison. For instance, we learn that no matter how well you've planned for a certain situation, things can always come off the rails. That's what happened to me just after ten thirty in the morning on October 30.

I'd psyched myself up all the way home. I'd taken several deep breaths while driving down my street, madly playing through the encounter I was walking into. Things took a left turn, fast.

As I opened the door, Peter did the one thing I hadn't expected. The lovers were in the middle of our living room floor, simulating doggy-style sex. The positions were almost identical to the recording I'd watched. They weren't quite at a forty-five-degree angle to me - that might have exposed some view of her panties or his stupid gauze pad.

Pete looked over his right shoulder and smirked. It was nothing ostensive even though I knew the look meant, 'I'm going to fuck your wife, someday, if all goes well,' instead of, 'Hey I'm fucking your wife right now.' I lost it.

Mia had a vase on the entry table, a gift from her mother. I'm sure it was expensive. It didn't have any flowers in it or any of that dead wheat bullshit that's trendy. It was empty.

I just picked it up and threw it. Honestly, I'd meant to throw it over both their heads, but it was bulky - maybe twelve or so inches tall and wide in the middle. It weighed at least two-and-a-half pounds or more. I'll say it slipped as I let it fly but only to exonerate myself. Being five or less feet away in the distance, Peter had no time to react or block the object. It hit him hard on the side of the head.

As he fell off to the side, Mia was so into character that she turned towards me to deliver her lines. "Oh my God! Troy!" she repeated the words I'd heard her practice. "What are you doing home? I can expla..." That's where she ended. By that time, the sound of the broken vase and the low moaning of her mock boyfriend finally caught up with her pea-brain. She turned away from me, in the other direction to see what happened to Pete.

"You fucking bitch!" I screamed and walked out the door. Backing out of the driveway slowly, I stopped in the street before putting the car in drive. I'll admit I was curious to see if she'd chase after me or attend to her co-conspirator. I guess he won that round.

Halfway down our street, my mind started forming coherent thoughts again. It was highly likely that Peter would need medical attention. I may have even killed him. My first thought was to run but, almost immediately, I wanted to turn around. Instead, I did neither. Pulling into a convenience store across the main road from our block, I pulled around back, where I had a view of my street.

Ten minutes later, I saw Mia's car speeding out into the intersection, turning left towards the hospital. That told me I had time. No cops and no ambulance, so they would probably be getting their story straight. I did not doubt that the police would talk to me. The guy had been assaulted and the hospital would need to report it, regardless of what Pete and Mia said. If they tried to cover it up - some slip-and-fall story - the cops would still be suspicious.

What Mia did by driving him was to give me time. I drove back to my house to remove all the recording devices.

There was a lot of blood on our living room floor which scared me all over again. Mia's vase was cracked in half with a large piece lying around in little bits and bloodied. The large gauze pad was indeed not on the floor, so Mia probably had used it for its intended purpose. I took all four cameras and then, I headed downstairs to get the phone recorder.

I grabbed a few more shirts and two pairs of shoes and took my spare toothbrush. No telling how long I'd be gone. If Pete filed a police report, I might be gone for a long time.

An hour later, I was checked into a Holiday Inn on the north side of Battle Creek. It was near the Kellogg's plant and intended for the many executives and sales reps that did business there. I still hadn't heard a peep from my wife.

My lawyer, Jonathan, was pissed. We spent forty minutes on the phone talking about how I needed to handle each possible scenario. He wanted me to get him the surveillance footage of the incident before doing anything else, which I did. Jon told me to stay at the hotel and not to go anywhere, except the lobby.

A light dinner at the hotel bar, and several beers later, found me floating between anger and melancholy. I wanted to blame Mia for everything. It would be easy to do. I now hated her fiercely.

In reality, I'd been complicit as well. Was I just as bad as Mia? I'd planned my own prank to offset hers. I could have just moved out before that day and told her we were finished. Back in my room, I was focused on completing my task. Splicing together the recordings of their 'practice' sessions was easy. It was even easy to make it look like they were having sex for real. That was their fault more than my skill.

At about nine-thirty, I received a text from Mia:

"Troy, where are you?" she began. "I know you're upset, but I need you home. I'm sorry. Can you please call me?"

"Home?" I typed. "I'm three states away. Is he dead?"

"No! he has a concussion and a large cut on his head. He's staying overnight in the hospital. Why did you do that?"

I had no idea if she was telling the truth and that was perhaps the saddest part. The cops could be standing next to her right then.

"I thought you were being raped," I typed, covering my ass. "Until I saw your face. Then I knew that you'd only been caught. I hope he was worth it."

"It was a prank," I could almost hear her sign through her typed words. "Please come home so I can explain. Police don't seem to buy our story but nothing is going to happen to you tonight. I need to apologize face to face."

Then after another minute, "I need help cleaning up for the party tomorrow."

She'd officially lost her mind. "Not sure I'm ever coming home," I typed and backspaced and typed some more. "You of all people knew what would happen if you ever pulled another prank like this - which I'm not sure was a prank. Fuck UR party and FUCK you 2"

I didn't want to discuss anything with her, even texting. I shut off my phone.

In the morning, I took my laptop to the information center in the lobby and loaded the putrid, green-colored paper into the hotel's printer. Then, after I was finished, I borrowed scissors from the front desk and went back to my room. After cutting the printed pages into small strips, I turned my phone back on.

To my surprise, Mia hadn't called or texted again. That had to be the twins doing. They were the only people she knew who were smart enough to tell her to leave me alone and give me some time to cool down. Normally, that would have been sound advice.

After an entire day cooped up in the hotel, it was time to get ready. I went online and into my wife's FaceBook page. She'd be busy getting ready for a big Halloween to-do. I changed her login credentials and then posted some of the video clips I'd made.

"My best and last Halloween prank," I placed the heading.

"This one should teach my husband who's the boss around here." I posted not only their practices, which I made to look like the real thing but also some of their pillow talk. At least I made it look that way. Then I posted them getting ready for the real thing yesterday morning. Setting up their camera and getting the angles right. Pete joked about how hard he was getting, thinking about what was to come. Mia gave him a little squeeze through his pants. Then a few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, naked as a jaybird, as Mia helped place his little gauze patch over his throbbing cock. It would only be a minute or two later, as he lined up behind her, being liberal with his hands all over her torso.

"He's gonna freak out," Pete said manically.

"I know," said my wife over her shoulder. I ended that clip just before picking up the vase.

The website was a different story. I made it look like a space that had been created by Peter, showing all his dreams and aspirations of being with Mia - even more maniacal - with extended clips detailing his seduction.

I put some of Mia's best hits - quotes in her own words - making it appear she wasn't only enjoying the seduction, and Pete's boner, but planned to give him her all, at a later date.

The full-sized bear costume was terribly hot inside. I wouldn't be able to stand it for long. Thankfully, it had pockets for all my little strips of paper, which simply said, "My naked Halloween prank," followed by the website address.