This is a story nothing serious and couldn't find an editor. Not much sex, no cuck and no BTB. Just another sad tale, but a warning the narrator is not necessarily telling the truth and his views do not necessarily reflect the author's.
The object in my hand is small and seems entirely harmless. It is less than five inches long, a little over two inches wide, and about a quarter inch deep. A mostly plastic object it has a glass face. Inside it has a set of microchips to perform its allotted functions. An apparently innocent object and yet the greatest threat to personal privacy the world has ever known. We call them cellular phones and we carry them everywhere voluntarily for anyone who chooses to spy on us. George Orwell seems a dull prophet when you view the current reality. Twenty years ago they were a novelty. Now we see these little toys as a necessity. The world changes even though we sleep.
I know what you are thinking, "there are rules and built in protections." But just consider the device in my hand right now. It belongs to my wife of more than nineteen years. She has never been anything, but loving and supporting. She is the dominant spouse, but no shrew. For my part, I believed in the sanctity of marriage. A commitment made and not to be broken. I was sure we would grow old together and that she would hold my hand on my death bed. I made a bargain so many years ago. I traded my youth and freedom for the pleasure of her body next to me in bed. I swapped my life in trade for her love and devotion. That commitment with me is stronger than any steel bars. I am not some romantic idiot, far from that sort am I. Marriage is something I take seriously. It wasn't about love on my side more an act of rational judgment. Doris, my wife, is the romantic, perhaps that is the problem an ancient incompatibility finally coming to light.
Here I am with my wife's iPhone at 2 a.m. in the little downstairs study we normally share. I borrowed the phone from the table by her side of our marriage bed. It is the only time it was available. She never leaves it out of her possession. She like most modern day women goes nowhere without her phone. She spends more time on it than any other single activity. It is within her reach twenty-four hours a day. It is in her purse or carryall when not in her hand. It is there by the bed when she sleeps. I had to wait until I was sure she was asleep to snatch it.
"Why take her phone?" you ask. I wonder myself, am I losing my mind? How can I suspect my loving wife? What is the matter with me? I blame it all on my occupation. It has stunted me made me suspicious. I see only the dark side, the evil men do, not the good. Put directly, I am an attorney. There but for the grace of God go you. So I suspect her without good cause or substantial reason.
It was a little thing. I walked into the kitchen while my wife Doris— actually Deloris but no one uses her full Christian name— was talking on the phone. On all prior occasions, she would have continued ignoring my presence, but this time she hung right up and seemed nervous. Later that evening I asked to borrow her phone to call for the pizza that I had persuaded her to have for dinner. We no longer have a house phone a little economy when the girls went off to University part of a lets save money any way we can strategy. She is against takeout food normally being extremely conscious of her weight, but tonight she gave in easily and easily handed over her phone. Why not, she had cleared the phone log and the text messages. She no doubt being a lay person thought this a good idea, but it was not, in fact, it screams deceit.
I am suspicious because clearing the log is an attempt to hide, so what is she hiding? That is what I need to find out. I am reasonably well informed, and I know it is easier to bug a cell phone than a more traditional phone. Don't believe me go on the Web and type in "BUG CELL PHONE" and see what comes up. I even got a nice little book at Amazon for $0.99 that explained all the basics. The big problem on the IPhone is the JAILBREAK. What's that? Well, it is the need to alter the basic Apple operating code, so it permits you to install non-Apple software. My loving daughters broke the software lock of their mother's phone when she first got it. The girls were rather proud of their ability to do this.
With my wife's phone in one hand and the little cable that connects to my iPad in the other I hesitate. Is this who I am now, do I want to do this? Dare I do this? The reality is this could end nineteen years of marriage, a very good marriage. Why am I looking for the exit? We are a happy couple. There is nothing I can ask of her she will not do for me. On the other hand, she rarely asks anything in return. I was reluctant to enter our marriage, but I have never regretted it. I guess I should explain that.
I'm David P. Landon, Jr. I was at a frat party. Now forget everything you know about fraternities. The brothers of Sigma Chi are the fraternity that doesn't fit the mold. They were the largest fraternity on the University campus because all you needed to join was a good heart. That's right, the brothers respected neither money nor position. It was all about brotherhood and doing the right thing. Jocks mixed with nerds, the academic stars with the guys permanently on probation. It was not uncommon to see a group drinking beer in the basement while an extended tutoring session took place upstairs for the brothers who needed help. All races and all religions mixed together we were brothers. All you had to be to be one of us was to be a good man. Sounds easy, but it's not when you failed to meet the standard you let everyone down. The guilt is the hard part, knowing you have let your brothers down. Being a Sigma meant all the responsibilities that went with being a good brother.
The annual freshman mixer was one of those responsibilities. The older brothers were the chaperones. We invited every frosh male and female. The females to get the males there so we could get an early look at the potential brothers. More women showed up than men because as everyone knew you were safe at the Sigma house we were all gentleman. I was a 'second year' law student and normally well insulated from campus parties, but it was my turn along with nine other brothers there to supervise the frosh. It was a responsibility if you are a Sigma you don't duck responsibility.
Doris came to the party with her girlfriends. I do not know what they were on, but they were pretty happy when they arrived. I recognized her of course she was the oldest daughter of my mother's best friend. When I went off to university, I was not yet eighteen. Doris was a skinny flat chested kid. I had seen Doris on a number of occasions since, but my memory of her was tainted by the earlier recollection. In my mind, she had remained a child. That was no longer the case, she was a curvaceous young woman although still exceedingly young—but definitely more woman than girl.
I had little choice but to go over and say hello. Doris was six years younger than I, as were the friends she was with. My intent was to say hello and leave it at that. She was high on something I hoped it was only marijuana or alcohol, and I didn't want to embarrass her. Doris greeted me with enthusiasm and planted a big kiss on my lips. She was always welcoming and a pleasure to be around, but it was clear that she enjoyed showing me off as the older student she happened to know. The fact that I was a fraternity member and one of the official hosts was a bonus for her.
I ended up watching over them all evening and driving them home after the party. Doris took the opportunity to wrangle a date with me for the following week. We hit it off and dated until the end of the term nothing serious. She was a freshman, and I was a graduate student, so it wasn't a serious relationship at least not on my part. She broke it off. She wanted to see other people. At the time, I was ok with it, but quickly became depressed. I seemed to miss her. I wasn't sure why, she wasn't beautiful in the classical sense. She had that young girl fresh and innocent look. She was petitely cute, at five foot four and maybe a hundred and ten pounds. There was nothing spectacular about her appearance, but one glance into her soft brown eyes and I was hooked. It wasn't love on my side more a deep attraction. Doris had a great buoyant personality when she was gone she left a big hole.
I am smart—no make that shrewd—but introverted and a bit shy. I tend to turn in on myself. Doris is outgoing and will if given the chance make friends with everyone in the room. She is the first person everyone invites to the party and the last they want to see leave. But she broke up with me to see other guys. I accepted that. I was hurt, left with a battered ego, but that is what breaking up does to you.
Fast forward and it is July following my second year of law school. I needed a summer clerkship. Summer employment second year is a virtual necessity if you are to graduate with the prospect of a job. I looked in New York, Chicago, Washington and every major place for anything but so did everyone else. I finally found employment in our sleepy little university town with an ancient law firm that specialized in Eminent Domain— I will explain what that is in a bit.
The apartment, I shared with two others, was rented only through June. I needed to arrange summer housing, fortunately, the University opened a dorm for the summer school students, and they needed a resident assistant, a responsible older student to act as a surrogate parent. The rent was free in return for being available as needed. It worked for me, and it meant the meager law clerk salary could be put to some better use.
.... There is more of this story ...