I thought my wife was cheating on me, but I was having a big problem proving it to myself. I would also have to prove it to others eventually, so I used some technology to solve my difficulty.

While I am a Geek – that’s with a capital ‘G’ – and love anything ‘Computer’, I am also what I think is nice and sociable guy with some southern charm. I’m a Georgia boy: borne, raised, schooled, live, and work there. I have a circle of friends and am somewhat athletic. Since college, I jog and occasionally play golf on weekends, usually walking the eighteen holes with a pull cart. I only weight ten pounds more than I did when I graduated high school and went to college. I eat healthy.

Camryn, who everyone calls ‘Cam’ was my wife. She’s a doll, and the antithesis of my Geekness or Nerdness. She’s really social, and was a social butterfly in college where we met at a fraternity party. We got along, we dated, we got more serious, we got engaged just after our graduation, and married a year later. We were both twenty-three.

Cam is ‘Hot’. She five-foot-five, blue eyes, natural blonde, and stacked. She won a couple of beauty contests before she got to high school, where she got into cheerleading and expanded her social life when her parents allowed her to start dating. She was even the homecoming queen her senior year. I didn’t know her then, and how we ended up together was a slight mystery to me.

Cam took a degree in ‘Business’ in college, where we met. I was a computer science major, and I specialized my last year in cyber security and artificial intelligence. I went to work for a company that uses all that stuff, and Cam got a job helping evaluate insurance claims for a company not that far from where we rented an apartment. We lived and worked near Atlanta.

We were the Happy-Go-Lucky couple in our mid-twenties, and were ‘up’ for just about anything. We worked hard and played hard. Cam drew me out of my introvertive shell. We were at a party or cookout of some kind most weekends, and became close friends with Jake and Jenn, and Ross and Holly. If I say so myself, we were all handsome, gorgeous, athletic, and dedicated to getting a solid start on adult life.

I worked with Ross. Cam worked with Jake. Their spouses had other jobs around the area – one in real estate, and one in a trust bank. We each had aspirations to make more money than we were, so were dedicated to our work during the week. That said, none of us were even close to rich. We lived near each other, but not in the same neighborhoods, and all our houses were small rentals. Ross called them ‘Starter Homes’.

About six years into our marriage, things had slowed down to sex only a couple of times a week, and we were obviously taking each other for granted more than not. We made assumptions about the other that were accurate more often than not.

Holly, Jenn, and Cam started to have a girl’s night out. That’s when Jake, Ross, and I started to have a simultaneous poker night, joined by Aaron and Dean – both lawyers and neighbors that the other guys introduced to our table. Our wives would congregate at one house or another and then head out as we broke out the cards and chips.

I was slow on the uptake, but a few things finally got my attention after we’d had this routine for Friday nights for over six months.

First, the evenings had gotten later and later. We would play cards and drink until the three women would come back from their girl’s night out, and then end the card game. At first that was around nine-thirty, but over those months it became more like midnight. There always seemed to be a good explanation: a great band, dance demonstration, a floor show where they went, and so on.

Second, our lovemaking subtly slowed over that time period to once or twice a week, with twice becoming rare. I sensed Cam’s lack of enthusiasm, but didn’t call her on it. Further, we weren’t making nookie on our Friday party night despite my interest in the subject.

Third, a night or two during the weeks leading up to the six-month mark for the Friday party nights, Cam would work late. She’d rarely worked past five or five-thirty in the past, so this was a sudden departure from normal, and was a weekly event. On ‘late nights’, she’d be home around eight o’clock – nothing outrageous, but career building she said. She’d come in, shower and change into casual clothes, and then eat a late dinner, particularly if I’d prepared something.

Fourth, I started reading erotic stories on Literotica, particularly the Loving Wives stories. Those in turn made me suspicious as all fuck about what Cam was doing (a) on her late work nights, and (b) on her girls’ night out.

My first foray to see whether there was anything I should worry about was simple. I made sure the Find Friends app on her phone was working, and that I could see where she was.

I found it odd that she went back to our house at lunch time mid-week for over two hours. She was late that night, and I didn’t say anything that evening when she got home. She never mentioned it, only that they had an endless backlog of claims to process at work. I felt something was more than a little off about that.

My second incursion into surveilling my wife was to put two simple cameras around the house while Cam was out shopping one Saturday morning. I put one outside looking across the front of the house past the front door that we use all the time, and the other in the bedroom with a view of our bed. I’d always wanted a door cam, and if Cam was cheating in some way, I figured she’d use our bed.

I learned little. Cam did go home midday the next Thursday, was alone, and never went into the bedroom. I wondered whether she’d discovered one or both of the cameras.

Friday night, things did get more interesting. Based on the Find Friends app, the girls’ night out consisted of dinner at a popular restaurant and then a visit to the Memories Lounge about five miles north of our home just off one of the main highways. I knew little about Memories. Cam had never mentioned going to a club and my nose twitched at her dancing and drinking with not only her girlfriends, but whoever else happened to be around.

I visited Memories late on Saturday afternoon while running errands, just to check out the place. My take was that it was a Meat Locker on Friday nights when the lounge got into the full swing of things. That gave me pause for thought. Over a beer, I asked the bartender about webcams, and surprise upon surprise, they had four online webcams: three overlooked the crowd and tables from several angles, and another swept over the dance floor and the band. The four cameras streamed to the Internet to promote Memories as the hip place to go. A few seconds later, I was watching myself on my iPhone as I finished my beer and headed home. I knew what I’d be watching the next girls’ night out.

Wednesday was a puzzle. Cam went home for a long lunch. Holly and Jenn were with her. I think they ate, and then were off-camera for over an hour. I wondered where they were in the house, or even whether they’d gone out in the back yard.

The next day I got the alert on my phone that she was in motion away from her office, I started tracking her and also checked on the home cameras. I could see Cam pull into the driveway and park and then she and an unknown male went into the house. They didn’t emerge for two hours, and they didn’t go into the master bedroom. Damn!

I knew that I had a major problem at that point, but I had no real evidence about the actual infidelity. I wondered who the guy was. I’d taken a dozen screen shots of him as he went into the house, but there was no recognition. There was no doubt in my mind that my wife was cheating. I just needed to figure out how to deal with it. I wanted more information before I started some serious action myself.

That weekend, I added two more cameras – living room and the guest room.

Friday night, as usual, the three girls went out and the card game started with the five of us. I was highly distracted and lost some money. Eventually, Cam, and I assume Jenn and Holly, went to Memories again according to the Find Friends app. I gave them thirty minutes to get established in the lounge, and then excused myself from the game for a couple of hands.

I booted up my laptop in the kitchen and got on the Memories website. The place had a live band playing and a lot of people were dancing, including the three women. As the camera on the dance floor panned the area, I caught a good shot of Cam and her dance partner – the same guy that she’d been at the house with. Fuck!

I took more screen shots and got some good ones. I recorded in video format everything going on, too. The lounge’s webcams were high resolution. I took shots of Holly and Jenn and their partners, too. Then I watched as the plot thickened. I labeled the men Guy #1, #2, and #3.

A minute later, on another camera, I saw Cam hand her cellphone, that I was tracking, to Holly. Holly put the phone in her back pocket, and went back to kissing the guy that she’d been dancing with. Cam and Unknown Guy #1, disappeared out the door of Memories. I wondered where she was going and knew it wasn’t a good thing.

I had no way to track her. I was left hanging. I watched Jenn and Holly making out in a booth with their boyfriends. About an hour later, Cam and Guy #1, as I called him now, reappeared. Holly passed Cam her phone back, as well as her cellphone. Now, I was really suspicious. Holly and Guy #2 disappeared for forty-five minutes, before returning. Jenn and Guy #3 then disappeared for an hour. They didn’t want their cellphones tracked; that was obvious.

By this time, we’d ended the game. Aaron and Dean had left, and I shared my findings with Ross and Jake. I played back my recordings of the online cameras, including the two handoffs of cellphone, and eventually the return of Jenn and Guy #3. There was one more slow dance with a lot of kissing and making out, and then the three women left the club.

In the twenty minutes it took for them to appear at the house, the three of us agreed not to say or do anything until we got more information. I guaranteed that I could get more data with some additional surveillance and some prowling around at Memories. We were all angry and tried to hide it. We each blamed losing at poker for our sour attitudes.

That week Cam didn’t go home for lunch alone or with anybody. I played the week straight, and so did Ross and Jake.

One afternoon, I went Memories and took a good look around, not only inside but outside. There was a somewhat rundown, C-grade, motel about a hundred yards north of the club past a small strip mall and still on the main highway. On a whim, I walked over to their office. I asked the young clerk at the desk whether they minded ‘luggage-less’ couples checking into the place. He laughed and told me, “Hell, that’s half our trade. Guys go to Memories, pick up chicks, and come here to fuck ‘em.”

I asked, “Friday nights?”

“Especially!’

I pulled out my phone and a fifty-dollar bill. I showed him a picture of Cam. “Seen her?”

He chuckled as he plucked the fifty from my fingers. “Yep. She’s a Friday night regular. Usually with the same guy, but not always.”

I showed the screen shot of Cam’s Guy #1, and he nodded. “Yep.” I showed pictures of Holly and Jenn, and the other two guys, and got positives. He added, “They rent a room and take turns, although a few times they’ve all been in there together.”

“Any cameras?”

He shook his head. “If anybody even suspected we had cameras, we’d lose all our business. Nope. Never happening. Only camera is in here monitoring the desk.” He pointed up over his head to an obvious security camera.

On a whim, I asked, “Could I see a room that they’ve rented?”

He shrugged, “They’re all the same. Take a look.” He gave me the key to Room 101 that was right outside the office door. I went into the room and took a bunch of still pictures and then did a video as I panned around the room. I had an idea.

I turned in the motel key a couple of minutes later, gave the guy another fifty, and thanked him. I said, “Don’t say anything?” He made a motion as though to zip up his lips.

Friday night, Ross, Jake, and I cancelled the card game, but we got together as though we were going to play. Our wives soon left Jake’s house to head to dinner. Jake had brought a large order of ribs and slaw, so the three of us ate, and then went into action. I’d already brought them up to date on what I’d found out at the motel.

The trio of women got to Memories around eight-thirty as things were getting rolling in the club. We used our hot spots and iPads to watch the cameras in the lounge to see what was happening. Almost instantly, our wives were with the men that I’d called Guy #1, Guy #2, and Guy #3. I had to physically stop Ross from charging in and killing everyone. I promised him that it would be worth thousands and some sweet revenge to him. He calmed and said he trusted me, but I didn’t have much time. I thought that was unique, since we had three wives that had seriously broken our trust and apparently their wedding vows.

From our vantage point across the street from Memories in Ross’ SUV, we watched with binoculars as Jenn and Guy #1 left the club and walked to the motel. I noted that it wasn’t Cam. They went straight into one of the rooms, which suggested that some one of the six cheaters had rented the room earlier that day. After they were gone, I got out my next little technology wonder – a black, battery-powered, wireless, contact microphone about the size of a cigarette pack.

I crossed the highway and took the long way around before I pasted the mic on the window of the cheaters’ motel room. It was already playing the sounds through my earbuds and being recorded on the laptop in the car. Ross and Jake were listening to it. I’d warned them about the explicit nature of what they’d be hearing, but they were adamant about wanting the ugly truth. The sounds were pretty damning, even if we didn’t have pictures. Jake and we listened to his wife getting her brains fucked out, and she loved it.

Cam fucked Guy #2, and Holly got screwed royally by Guy #3. They’d rotated men, apparently. We had it all recorded in clear sound. The pick-up worked too well. We were crushed, but found a little solace in that we were close friends and would share the grief as our marriages ended.

We recorded three hours’ worth of sound from nine p.m. until midnight before I collected the microphone and we left for home before our wives got there. There was no doubt but that not only were we each being cheated on by our wives, but also that the girls had been rotating between guys to sample different cocks. Further, we were also seriously disrespected by what they said about their ‘lame’ and ‘limp’ husbands to their lovers. I’d never heard Cam run me down so much, even when she was mad at me.

I called Aaron, one of our legal friends, the next morning and he was good enough to allow a visit from Jake and me at one p.m. on Saturday. We explained what was going on, and he expressed his sympathy for the three of us. He explained that he wasn’t the most brutal divorce lawyer in the state, but he knew who that was and she was a good friend that owed him a favor. He called Carla Winslow, Esquire, and we were at her home an hour later, and she was lapping her chops to get into the three separate but connected divorce cases.

Carla said, “One thing you need to do is get pictures of them actually having sex. It’s vital to your economic future.”

Jake and I looked at her. I said, “No chance unless I fake something.”

“A video of her admitting to the cheating would do. In this state, you spouse does not need to know that you are recording her, but get it on video.”

I smiled. “I think I know how to get that for each of us.” Jake gave me a questioning look, and I told him that I’d explain later.

On Sunday, I claimed to Cam that I needed to work a good part of the day at my office. Jake and Ross joined me at my firm’s empty offices, and we started our computer work. I did the lion’s share using the best artificial intelligence video software available on our most powerful computers. We had it for work, and it was expensive as fuck, but it worked like a charm.

We spent the first two hours feeding data into the company’s large and sophisticated computer. Our computers were both generative modeling or could serve as variational autoencoders. That day, we trained them on many separate videos and still images that we’d brought to our little workshop. We loaded in the video and still photos that I’d taken in the empty motel room, then hours of video of the six of us at when we’d gone to beach a few months earlier. We added in some home videos each of us had that showed our wives in some way, including at Ross’s backyard pool. We loaded in two hours’ worth of selected porn, and several dozen screen shots of Guy #1, Guy #2, and Guy #3, and many more pictures of each of the women. All we needed to do after that was stir and then figure out what results we wanted the A.I. software to generate.

My company had honed the image generating algorithms to a fine edge for our normal work. We ran some facial recognition tests and the computer scored perfectly. We then started to build some scenarios for our videos and images, and got those into the encoder algorithms.

For me, this was like shooting large fish in a small barrel. At the end of six hours of work we had realistic videos showing Cam, Jenn, and Holly fucking each of the three men in the motel bedroom. Each video was about five minutes long. I thought they were almost flawless. They were certainly good enough for what we’d be using them for. The computer also spit out about a dozen still images of each woman in sexual and compromising situations with each man.

I presented pen cameras to my two buddies and we spent an hour learning how to use them. We tested on each other until we could use them as well as a regular camera. I loaded up the appropriate videos for each couple on individual thumb drives, again making sure they knew how best to present the information to their spouse, and what they needed to do to get a recorded confession of infidelity from their wife. We’d been talking about how to use what we were generating all day.

On that note, and despite our shared depression at the demise of our marriages, we broke up and headed to our homes and soon-to-be ex-wives.

Cam had dinner ready when I got home. I was quiet while I ate and she picked up on it. I explained, “Just some heavy stuff going down at work. Give me a drink and another hour or two to get past it and I’ll be good.”

After dinner, I turned on my pen camera, made sure it was recording to the large-memory mini-SD card inside the unit, and then joined Cam in the living room. She watching the television. I picked up the remote and abruptly turned off the TV set. I said bluntly, “We need to talk.”

Cam suddenly looked worried, and she probably under-estimated what the next hour would be like.

I picked up my computer and put it in front of her. I’d put the pictures and movies on the laptop. “I have a few pictures and a couple of videos to show you that appear to show what you’ve been up to. I’d like to know if they’re an accurate portrayal of your betrayal to me and to our marriage.”

Cam gasped at my statement and started to stutter.

I started the video that the home camera had taken of her coming into the house with Guy #1, but then the scene shifted to show the two of them fucking on the queen bed in the guest room. She gasped, “Oh, no, no, no! It’s not what you think ... I can explain.” I didn’t give her the opportunity as more of the video came on the screen. I held up my hand to silence her and she complied. Tears were running down her cheeks. She’d been caught.

The film segued to several pictures of her fucking Guy #1 and separately Guy #2 in the motel room. I saw a glimmer of a fault with the A.I. images here and there, but Cam didn’t notice the shift in viewpoint. I said with great sarcasm, “This video sure makes it look like you had fun having sex outside our marriage.”

After I’d had Guy #1 squirt his cum into her receptive vagina in the last video, I stopped the playback. I had made a big assumption about her going bareback. She hated condoms. Since she didn’t raise the issue, I assume the video was accurate.

“Care to explain if all that was as accurate as the video made it look?” I said sarcastically. I made sure to face her so that they pen was recording her statement.

Cam launched into what might have been a superficial prepared speech, but her words were the tropes and trite statements of a cheating spouse: “I’m so sorry that you had to find out however you did; It was just sex; what I did, didn’t mean anything to our relationship; I’m sorry for cheating; I can stop anytime and will; I love you and want to be with you forever, and please don’t divorce me. I know that looks bad, but it was just ... fun.”

I held up my hand and said, “Let’s listen to what you had to say about me to one of your lovers.” I started the audio segment of her running me down, saying what a worthless shit of a man I was, how our sex life was seriously flawed and nothing like what he could do for her, and then how she hoped they’d always be able to fuck, fuck, fuck. Cam looked shocked at hearing her recorded words.

I asked point blank, “How did your cheating start?” I put a picture on my laptop of her and Guy #1 fucking with her on top in the motel room – one of her favorite positions. I didn’t allude to the fake photograph but she could see it. The angle of the photo should have alerted her that it couldn’t have been real unless the photographer was in the room, but she appeared to not notice that flaw.