28 comments/ 106937 views/ 5 favorites A Woman's Wrath By: the Troubador It had been a long three days for Pete, and the "dinner" last night was still with him. As his plane settled in on its final approach to the airport he swore once again that he would never, ever again fly with a hangover. He was still boozed up from the night before but it was the guilt that led his blues. He couldn't believe he had gotten smashed like that. He'd have to think about how he got so bombed. He never drank that much, and he could have sworn he hadn't had all that many drinks. Had the people he was talking with done some business with the bartender and fed him doubles? If so it hadn't helped them this trip and it was going to hurt them the next time he sat down with them. The food had been too late and much too rich and spicy to plop down on top of all the booze. Maybe if he had stayed away from the champagne on the flight he would have been OK. Hell, he knew the quality of airline champagne. He should never touch the stuff. Those by themselves were enough to put him down but the evening went on to become the night, to the morning after. He hadn't gotten more than fifteen minutes sleep in any one block. On top of everything else the drinking didn't stop until 8:00, then it was time to get back to his hotel to pack and get to the airport. Pete was inclined to think it was the bottle of champagne he finished off before heading back to his hotel that had set him on his head. But then again, his conscience would have been making his stomach queasy without any of the other. When it all caught up with him, when his body started that fast inexorable slide off the alcohol and euphoria induced haze, was as the plane left the ground. It didn't make much sense to blame any one thing. In the end he was to blame. He'd never get caught like that. He could hardly wait to get back in negotiations with those apes! He wasn't often vengeful, but what they had pulled was over the top. Still, the only one he could blame condition was ol' watash'. He gave up looking for scapegoats. All he need was to look in a mirror. And that might be a problem for a while: Maybe he could grow a beard. Well, in any case it had been an wildly successful sales trip. His bonus for this year was already earned and could only get better as the year progressed. On the ground he took shuttle to long term parking for his car, then headed home. Susan wouldn't be home yet and for once he was glad. It would give him time to settle himself down. Of course there was no sense in confessing, it would only hurt her. He could save her that, and getting derailed once in a lifetime, well once in twenty-five years, wasn't a bad track record. It wasn't as grand as his record Thursday morning, but still, not bad. Sure as hell he wasn't going to go through this again. No woman was worth endangering what he had going with Susan. Yet, Maurine did the hoochy koochy as well as he had ever seen it done. Getting home he first called the office, then looked in the refrigerator to see what Susan may have been planning for dinner. He could give her one of his gourmet meals, or take her out to dinner. It was Friday so Susan would be tired, probably a nice dinner home and then dinner out tomorrow would work out best. - - - - - The meal was coming on time, should be ready in half an hour, and Peter had just stepped out of the shower when he heard Susan come in the door. Slipping on the burgundy colored turtleneck sweater Susan had given him for his birthday last month, he finished dressing by slipping on his loafers. Glancing at himself in the mirror he was satisfied. The light gray slacks set off the sweater. The combination, on his slender frame looked good. As the gals did, emphasize your good points and minimize your weak ones. He was slim and straight, the sweater showed his physique well, and allowed the eye to ignore the lack of breadth to his shoulders and his slim biceps. Pete's slim six-foot frame was built to wear the modern styles and he took advantage of it. "Peter! You up there?" Susan shrilled up the stairs. "Jesus, what's with Susan?" Pete thought. "Susan must have had a nasty day. I can't remember hearing that tone in her voice before." Trotting down the stairs he called, "Coming down hon. Dinner is almost ready, I thought we could eat my famous broiled salmon tonight and I'll take you to dinner Saturday for our real celebration. This time we can celebrate both our anniversary and the success of my trip." As he stepped into the living room he was stopped by the stare Susan turned on him. "What's wrong, honey? You all right?" She stood in the center of the living room, staring at him, just staring at him. Her coppery curls, shining like a halo around her face, did nothing to soften the glare he was receiving. The look she gave him was more like hatred then love. She brushed by him without a word, storming out of the room and up the stairs. Pete stood in the middle of the living room staring after his wife, wondering what had happened while he was away. After setting the table with their good china, Pete went up to call Susan for dinner. Entering their room he found her sitting on the bed, just staring into space. She certainly hadn't dressed for any kind of dinner. He always expected her to dress nicely, even for dinner at home when it was a special occasion: At least, she always had before. Feeling his presence she jerked her mind back from where it had wandered, giving Pete another strange, unfriendly look before stalking down to the dining room. Peter followed her, unhappily looking at the old gray sweat suit Susan had put on after showering. "Honey, this is kind of a celebration. How come you didn't dress up a little?" After giving Peter another cold look she told him, "We will talk after dinner. I want an appetite for my meal." "Jesus," Pete thought, "what the hay is going on here? I've never seen Susan act like this. It's almost as if she knew about last night, but that just was not possible. Hell, I didn't know about last night myself until I struggled back to my room this morning to pack for the flight back." After an excellent meal, served and poisoned by a frozen atmosphere with practically no conversation, Susan stormed to the living room. The longest sentence of the meal she tossed over her shoulder as she left, "Clean up your mess, and come into the living room, Peter. We have to talk." Stunned, Pete stared after her before bussing the table, then hand washed the good china. They never finished a major meal, a celebration, like this. He always dried while Susan washed. And they played with one another the entire time. Pete was worried now. Back in the living room his wife was sitting in her favorite paisley wingback chair, her hands primly folded in her lap. Pete had been hoping to find her on the big red leather couch where he could sit beside her and cuddle. Not a word was spoken as Pete settled himself on the big leather couch. Not even the usual music was playing on the stereo. Finally Susan shook herself before beginning, "Donna Ashley called me this morning, Peter. She had to take a sudden trip to help her daughter who got into some kind of trouble in college. Nothing major, but Donna felt she should show up to give her support and chew her ass in private." "Since her daughter is living on campus, Donna got a room in town. She was in the same hotel where you spent the night last night. It wasn't the same hotel you were checked into, but of course you already know that." Pete's stomach lurched at that, then she continue, "Donna didn't know you were there until she opened the door this morning to go to meet her daughter. She was across the hall when the door to the room just down the hall opened and she was stupefied to see you in a clinch with some hussy with a dye job and manufactured 38 DD breasts. According to Donna it was easy to check out her tits, she was naked as the day she was born. Donna was afraid to move, watching the entire time while the bimbo gave you a five-minute smooch while she was literally standing in the hall, naked. Donna had to estimate the time; she was too surprised and mortified to look at her watch until at least a couple minutes had gone by. But she timed you for the last three minutes." "You were so enthralled with that bimbo you obviously spent the night bonking you never noticed the woman standing in the open doorway just two rooms down from the one where you spent the night fucking." Pete was shocked at Susan's language, she never language like that. "Donna told me the two of you were far from quiet during the night. Even through the walls of that good hotel, across the hall and two doors down the sluts screams were quite clear." "I don't know what I'm going to do, Peter. She called me at lunch and told me. We are like sisters as you know, and after spending way too much time thinking of the fix I'm in, she knew she had to call and tell me. If her late husband had been cheating on her, obviously a regularly thing the way you two were carrying on, she would have wanted to know." There was a long, brittle silence before Pete tried to talk over the lump in his throat, "Susan, there's no long term anything going..." Susan just talked over him, "I may decide to leave you, Peter. I love you still, but I'm not sure how to handle not being able to trust you. As for Saturday, tomorrow night, I'll have to think about it. We may not be together by then." Susan buried her face in her hands and began sobbing, "I just don't know Pete, I just don't know!" Peter was still sitting frozen to the couch when his wife leaped up and ran sobbing from the room. Clambering to his feet he called, "Susan, we have to talk. What Donna thought she was seeing wasn't right. We have to talk..." He had gotten as far as the foot of the stairs when he heard their bedroom door slam shut. He was still standing there minutes later when he heard the door open again. For a moment his face relaxed with a glimmer of hope,then he heard something hit the floor upstairs and the bedroom door slammed again. This time he clearly heard the lock snap closed. It was only a standard interior door with a button lock and he knew he could have it open in the time it would take him to climb upstairs and walk to the bedroom door. Still, it didn't seem the time to be upsetting Susan even more as she was making a statement with the locked door. What he had done was a one-time thing. He had gotten blind drunk at the dinner after negotiations were completed and the owner's PA, who had been vamping him all week long, had finally driven his libido over the edge. The dinner had been in the hotel where the negotiations had been held. The suite where they had talked was booked for them over night and it ended being a convenient place for the two of them to continue their fun and games. He barely remembered going upstairs to the room from the dining room but he knew she must have helped him weave down the hall. He had really been too smashed to walk on his own. The night played like kaleidoscopic pictures in his mind; the woman leading him to the bed, then the two of them doing things Pete didn't think normal women would do. He knew he hadn't initiated some of the things they had done, he hadn't even imagined such things before. His body had responded but it was as if he were some stranger watching two strangers perform while he stood beside the bed. He was still trying to figure out how she had managed to twist the two of them into some of the positions he clearly remembered them using. He had been too drunk to say no. Now he was terrified it may have damaged the only thing he was working for, a better life for Susan and himself as a couple. He trudged upstairs, picked up his pajamas from where they were lying on the floor outside his bedroom along with clothes for tomorrow. She had even tossed his shaving equipment and toothbrush out into the hallway. Saturday was one of those 'iffy' days. The weather forecaster couldn't make up his mind whether it was going to snow, hail, sleet, sunshine or include a tornado or two. Pete settled for working in the yard until the weather got too bad. Then he had some repairs to do inside and if he ran through those, he could always go into his shop and try creating. He had an idea for a hutch he was certain Susan would really like. What he had no idea about was what Susan and he would be doing that evening. He made sure once again she knew he wanted to take her out to dinner but she didn't respond one way or another. He loved her despite his sudden fall from grace and they had been planning on celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary for several months. If they did go out he was uncertain whether she would appreciate the gift he had chosen for her, and picked up two months ago. It was something she had yearned for a long time, but he feared she would think he had purchased it only to buy back her good graces. Susan called him in from his shop about four, asking why he wasn't getting ready for the dinner. Then she told him she had cancelled the reservations he had made, then called Top of the Town for reservations. He trotted upstairs, just as his wife walked out of the bathroom, wearing a light robe and with her hair already up in a French braid. He took his shower while Susan worked on her cosmetics. He came out just in time to watch his wife drop a new red dress over her head and settle it on her hips and cover up the lingerie outfit he had given her at Christmas time. She had been saving it for a special occasionm not even modeling it for him. Peter perked up a bit. It looked like she was working toward reconciliation. She wouldn't make it easy, he was sure of that, but the lingerie showed she expected they would enjoy a make up session when they got home tonight. The ride to the restaurant was a silent one, and the long ride up in the glass-enclosed elevator running outside of the building was deadly quiet. After an excellent meal Susan seemed to loosen up. If there was any problem, it was that she was chattering too brightly. Her gaiety was forced. As they finished their dessert Susan spoke up, excitedly asking if they couldn't go into the ballroom where a small orchestra was tuning up to play. Susan confessed she hadn't danced in years and she felt like dancing tonight. Not too happy, but respecting his wife's wishes, Pete agreed. He was a mediocre dancer at best. He got on with the wilder dances where he just kind of jumped around to the rhythm of the music but he was even worse with ballroom dancing. As Susan started to get up, he placed his hand on hers to stop her. Taking the long jewelry box out of his inside coat pocket then handed her his gift. She opened it in a perfunctory manner, then silently studied the emerald and diamond necklace and earrings. She gave him a suspicious glance before thanking him in a matter of fact tone. While he was waiting for her reaction he heard the orchestra get started. Hoping for more of a response from Susan from the gift, instead she told him told him that she was afraid his lack of ballroom skills was going to be blatantly obvious. She hoped she would enjoy the dancing anyway. Then she told him she was sure he would be adequate. She was going to have a good time anyway. As Pete was waiting to pay the bill Susan excused herself to the ladies room, promising to meet him just inside the door to the dance hall wearing the new jewelry. For some reason the gal on the cash register had trouble with his credit card, then was distracted. It took quite a while before he had his credit card back in his pocket and could go in search of Susan. By that time he was sure she must already be waiting. Stepping into the dance hall but seeing no sign of his wife, Pete patiently waited in the entrance for her to show up. It was at least ten minutes and two dance numbers before a waiter approached him. "Sir, are you waiting for your wife?" he asked. At Pete's nod he directed Pete to a table on the other side of the room, telling him his wife had been impatiently waiting for him. Pete started around the dance floor and spotted Susan sitting at a table. But she wasn't alone. Just before he got to the table the band struck up another number and Susan and the strange man sitting at the table with her rose to dance. His wife saw him and, taking the man's hand, detoured to meet Pete on the edge of the floor. "Oh, Pete. I'm glad you finally showed up. Devon and I are having this next dance; he's a marvelous dancer. Watch us and see how it's done, darling. Oh, and you might order drinks for us while we are gone." She was gone, pulling Devon behind her, before Pete could say a word. When the waitress came by, Pete asked her to bring another round of what the wife and Devon had been having, then asked her for a favor. Explaining that he was the designated driver he asked if they had something that looked, and maybe even smelled like either a bourbon and water, or scotch and soda. She assured him she had a grand imitation Scotch and Soda and would pass word on to the bartender to send him one of those whenever he needed another drink. She assured him it even tasted vaguely like Scotch, while the soda was real. The waitress was back just as the dance ended, with margaritas for Devon and Susan along with his fake drink. The problem was, there was no Devon and Susan. Pete started searching the dance floor for his wife, and finally saw her on the far side of the floor, arms still linked around Devon as they apparently waited for the next dance. Pete began to wonder what exactly was going on, but suspected his wife was trying to get even with him for his fall from grace at last weeks business meeting. Casually keeping an eye on the couple, he watched as the next dance started. Finally getting a good look at Susan he was startled to see that the bright red, form fitting red dress had seemed to shrink. The hem that had been just to the top of her knee when they left home, now came to only mid-thigh. When she moved with any energy, the top band of her pantyhose was visible; so much so that he began to wonder if she had swapped the panty hose she was wearing when she left the house for thigh high stockings. The top of the dress still clung like silk, but two buttons had been opened, and any casual look was rewarded with a good look at her breasts clad in the filmy bra Pete had given her as a gift. Pete could only imagine what the view was like for Devon, who was dancing with her. They were dancing if having both hands cupping her ass and Susan holding him with two hands linked around his neck as she leaned back, grinding her pelvis into him was a new step he wasn't familiar with. Pete sat and watched, as Susan allowed the stranger to take more and more liberties with her person. While he watched and worried, he thought and wondered. He knew Susan was angry but how far was she willing to push this to display her anger to him, or maybe she was looking to get even with him? Or... Maybe Devon wasn't quite the stranger he appeared to be. What if he was a friend of Susan's, what if she was using the situation to get her own infidelity out into the open and justify it? That didn't sound like the Susan he knew, but how far was she going to push this. He was very sorry he had eaten a large, rich dinner. His stomach was churning. Maybe the next time the waitress came by he'd ask her to bring him an Alka-Seltzer. After fifteen or twenty minutes of groping and wriggling together Susan led Devon back to the table. Sitting down, she gave Devon a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for the dance. Without looking at her husband or acknowledging his existence she snared her Margarita and began drinking it, fast. When it was done, she looked at Pete, "Pete, I forgot how HOT I get when dancing. Wow!" Turning to look at Devon, who was sipping at his drink and she added over her shoulder, "Peter, be a dear and get our drinks refilled." A Woman's Wrath Ch. 02 Peter was home by 3:15AM, alone in an empty house. Stripping his clothes off he took a quick shower, climbed into some old boxers to lounge in, then went downstairs and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. Sitting down with his first drink since dinner he reviewed the evening. What a disaster! After ignoring him all day, Susan called him upstairs then hustled him into a suit to go out to the dinner he had promised her the day before. She also cancelled the dinner reservations at their favorite upscale restaurant, and made reservations at the most haute mode place in the city. While he was getting dressed she made a point to show him she was dressing to titillate her date, for when and if he got her in the sack. Then she hadn't say a word to him 'til they were in the restaurant. On finishing the meal, his wife insisted on going to the dance club connected with the restaurant. The gift he had spent a small fortune on and on had been anticipating her reaction for three weeks, one she had been mooning over for a couple months, had bombed, generating a bored ho-hum. While Susan went to the Ladies to "freshen up" the cashier made a string of asinine and ridiculous screw-ups, which kept him from meeting her in the cabaret for at least twenty minutes. After the rest of the evening he was wondering about the cashier's performance. Once at the entrance to the dance he had waited for her in the foyer, as they had agreed. After a quarter hour a waiter was sent to direct him to the table Susan and a strange man were sharing. From that point she made a point of embarrassing and humiliating him in front of the man she had clearly picked up; or had she? He ended buying drinks for the two of them for four hours, while his wife spent almost the entire four hours on the dance floor with the bozo. Half the time she was on the floor he had wondered if she was dancing with him or making out. And then, when he knew he had to push and shove, she made it clear she was not coming home with him. By the time he had carefully gone over the sequence his beer was drunk. Pete got up and locked the house for the night, chaining the door and finally climbing into bed after 4:30 PM. As he turned out the light he seriously wondered if he had a marriage. Pete got out of bed at 8:00 having slept less than an hour and not likely to get more under his belt. After making coffee and downing a couple cups to get him awake he settled down, alone with the Sunday paper. It was after 1:00 PM when someone tried to open the front door, then rang the doorbell. Susan had finally made it home. He let her in, perturbed that she hadn't even been aware of the chain on the door. Somehow she had lost her keys. She looked like the poster girl for hangovers. Truth of the matter, she was still under the influence. Pete was used to seeing her without makeup, but this was the first time he wished she would go put some on. "Boy, that was some night!" she slurred, holding a hand to her head. Pete nodded wordlessly. "You should have stayed around and gone home with us, Pete," Susan said. "You would have loved it." "How do you figure that, Susan? From where I sat last night, you had no plans for me to be included in anything that happened." "Hey, Pete. That's just not true! That was my night to show you how it felt to be cheated on. But ol' Dev explained it to me. I understand why you didn't want to come with us and get embarrassed. Dev told me you were probably really turned on. Sorry I'm so late getting home to help you with it." Pete looked at her like she had gone crazy. "What exactly did Pete explain to you, Susan?" "Well, you know how. In all the cheat'n wife stories on the Internet, the husbands get turned on watching their wives get screwed. Then they get embarrassed. You didn't want to get embarrassed, that's all." "What stories on the Internet?" "Well, he took me home and showed me all these sexy stories on his computer. So now I understand how you probably wanted me to screw somebody else, and that was probably why you did what you did." Pete looked at her like she was crazy. "When have I ever suggested I wanted you to fuck around on me?" he asked. "Aw, that's a nasty word. It's really just cheatin'!" Susan answered. She took the aspirin out of the medicine cabinet and tapped out four. Pete looked at her with pity. "Sounds to me like the marriage is over, Susan." "What do you mean! Dev explained it all to me! 'bout what husbands really want. He said he could tell that was you 'cause you stuck around so long after we hooked up." "Susan, I stayed around because I expected you to come to your senses. You told me you wanted to save our marriage. Instead, you spent a drunken night telling some raunchy yo-yo trying to get laid all our troubles. You have yet to hear my side of what happened, but it's pretty obvious you spent the night fucking this sidewalk psychiatrist shit-for-brains." While Susan was choking down the aspirin Peter wandered downstairs. Susan followed him after stripping off her badly soiled clothes and slipping on her terrycloth robe. Seeing her come into the room, Peter asked her to sit down, which she was more than grateful to do. "Susan, I'm going to take tomorrow off. I'd appreciate you staying home, also. We should have talked Friday night, certainly no later than Saturday afternoon. Since you refused to talk to me even at dinner last night before you went off on what I'm beginning to suspect was a prearranged date, now is certainly not the time to talk. I want to sit down and talk tomorrow before I file for divorce. Please stay around tomorrow, Susan." "What!" "You're drunk on your ass, Susan. There's no sense talking to you now, you wouldn't understand a word I was saying." With that, Pete strolled out of the house and sat on a lounger on the back patio. "What? Wha'da you mean divorce?" she called after him. She tried to stand up, but was so dizzy she just sat back down. A half hour later Susan followed him outside, showered and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Her eyes were bloodshot, her complexion still a sickly yellow. When she sat next to him he caught a whiff of the vomit she had left in some toilet. She started to sit down, then got up, staggering back into the house, returning a moment later wearing sunglasses. Leaning her head back, she put both hands to her forehead to cup her head like she was afraid it was coming apart. "Margaritas getting you down, Susan?" Pete asked in a very quiet voice. "You must have chugged down nearly twenty. Tends to give one a real reminder the nest morning, doesn't it?" Susan gave no hint that she had heard him, just held her head, groaned and tried not to move her body. After a few minutes, Pete got up and moved back inside. The sight of his wife after she had humiliated him the night before, then seeming to want his sympathy for the way she felt after her behavior was more than he could stand. He went upstairs to straighten out the bed. There he discovered Susan had stripped off her clothes where she stood, then left them where they fell. After making the bed he picked up her clothes. What he found made him sit back down on the edge of the bed. He had picked up her dress, but found nothing else on the floor but her shoes. He checked the dirty clothes hamper, but found it empty; no pantyhose, the bra and panty set was missing. The one she had been saving for a 'special occasion,' the set he had never seen her in. So much for his wife planning on seducing him with the new lingerie he had gifted to her. When he had himself back together he searched the top of her dresser. He found the necklace and one of the earrings he had given her at dinner for their anniversary. The second earring was missing. Pete spent the rest of the day doing chores, finally taking the car and going out for a hamburger for his evening meal. It surprised him, but a McDonald's burger wasn't as bad as he remembered. He toddled around town for a couple hours afterwards, driving aimlessly, before heading home. It was late when he pulled into the driveway, and the living room lights were on, but his wife had gone to bed. She was dead to the world, and he made no effort to wake her. He checked the bedside table, turning off the alarm. He hoped his wife would stay and talk to him in the morning, if she didn't that would be a message in itself. He was very depressed as he climbed into bed beside her. Pete was up, whipped up a waffle batter, and had the odor of fresh coffee wafting through the house before sitting down to read the morning paper. He was just finishing the crossword puzzle when Susan came into the kitchen. She looked more rested but worried. When she looked at him he could tell she was trying to work up a good mad at him. At that point a "good mad" was the last thing they needed if there was any chance at all of working anything out. Before he left the bedroom he had looked in Susan's purse and discovered a business card for Devon Dalrumple, Attorney at Law. He had it sitting on the table by Susan's usual place. As she walked in, he poured waffle mix into the waffle iron, then poured her a cup of fresh coffee. She sat down at her place, pulling her chair up to the table but then went very still when she saw the business care beside her fork. "What's this, Pete?" she asked. "You tell me, Susan. Did you know this guy before Saturday night?" was Pete's laconic answer. "And Susan, don't fib because I'm going to check this out. If that was a pre-arranged date, I want to know." "No! No it wasn't'," she denied. Then after a pause, "Well, I had met him before, he works in my building." "And you just happened to see him there, and this successful lawyer just happened to be at the dance at Top of the Town without a date? You hooked up with him inside of thirty minutes. I wonder what the odds of that being a casual meeting would be?" was Pete's soft answer. "Are you happy now, Susan? Did the evening go as you expected? Do you feel exonerated after "getting even" with me?" Susan leaned back, holding the business card by the edges. "Pete, I still don't feel real good after all I drank Saturday night. I'm not sure Devon didn't give me some kind of pills at his house. No, I don't feel like we're even and everything is OK. We have to talk, Pete. But I didn't go out to cheat on you!" Pete sat and looked at her for many long minutes. "Well, I wasn't going to cheat, not if you acted right!" burst out of her. "So, now your fucking around on me was all my fault?" Pete shot back! "I made a major screw up, let me tell you how it happened..." then he told Susan of the three day, all day meeting, the woman vamping him, and how they had plied him with drinks all Thursday afternoon and evening. He speculated that the men he was negotiating with had paid to have his drinks made 'doubles'. To their dismay it hadn't impaired his negotiating skills to any perceptible manner. Pete did think they might hold that night over his head in future negotiations. As he was aware of what had happened, and because that behavior was so out of the ordinary for him, it was not going to be a lever for them in the future. Instead he would go into talks with that group, not with the idea of arriving at a fair bargain for both parties, but to drive them to the wall. They needed the product he sold, there was no easy substitute, so they would have to deal with him. Finally, "I'm not going to ask what I should have done to satisfy you. I was as understanding and non-threatening as I am capable of being. I considered breaking a chair over precious Devon's head, but we both know that would have sent you over the moon." "So we have a husband who was pulled astray. His wife discovers his peccadillo in a one-in-ten-thousand chance. The husband is guilt ridden for his infidelity and appalled at her discovering it, trying to save her from that heartbreak. Balancing that is a wife going out of her way to vamp a strange man, then insulting and embarrassing her husband very, very publicly. To cap all that off she refuses to come home with the husband. Her obvious alternative was going home with the man she had picked up for a night of illicit sex." Pete poured himself a fresh coffee, heating up Susan's cup. "Today we have to balance these actions and see how each of us feels. Does the wife want to continue with a monogamous marriage? Does the husband want to continue with the marriage at all after what she put him through?" Silence in the room except for the softly ticking clock on the yellow kitchen wall. Susan sat stone-faced listening to her husband. "I don't know, Susan. What does the wife want? And if you start with an attack on me, it's over." "You're making it sound like you're a saint in this, Pete. You came home from a night with some bimbo and my best friend called to tell me about it. Am I supposed to forget that?" "Nice, Susan, I just warned you about attacking me and that's the first thing you do! But I'll answer you anyway... Hell no, Susan. I was terribly wrong, and was going through all kinds of hell before I got home. I'd decided confessing my sin wouldn't help you. It was a one-time thing and while it might cure me of the guilts if I told you it would just upset you. Since it was never going to happen again I figured it was best that I was the only one that suffered." Pete sat slouched forward on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees with his hands dangling down between them. "I was hoping you would never find out about it, but if you did I knew you would rake me through the coals. You aren't a screamer but I expected you to break that habit if you found out. Truthfully, I was sure you wouldn't find out. I was planning to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I was right about you not being a screamer. You never said another word about what I had done after telling me you knew about it." "Damn it, Pete! Devon told me how men feel about their wives going with another man. Don't tell me it isn't true! I read story after story on Literotica, in each of them the men explained how they really felt. Quit trying to make me feel bad about something you could have stopped by just sticking around." "Susan, there are a ton of stories out there describing what Devon showed you. Very few men really want that to happen. And contrary to what is described in most of those stories, most men don't get hardons when they see something like that. In our specific case, me, the idea of what you so obviously did last night won't let my soldier stand up to attention. If we try to stay married it may be problem every time I go to make love to you." Looking sharply at her, Pete continued, "You read a bunch of those stories, obviously. Did they turn you on, Susan? Is that the kind of sex you want now?" "No Pete, I just wanted you to feel what I felt! Is that too much to understand? We're even now, we can go on with our lives like nothing happened." "Sorry, Susan. It's not going to work that way. Two wrongs don't make it right. And I feel what you did was worlds worse than what I did. You made your adultery as public as you could. Your shame was private. You made sure everyone at that dance Saturday was aware you giving me horns. And what it this nonsense about my being able to stop you. Did you want me to pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of the building? You made it very clear you weren't coming home with me voluntarily." "I actually considered doing just that, but decided you would probably be madder at my doing that than you were at my infidelity. You wouldn't have wanted a public scene and would have blamed me for reacting to your actions. I told you I was leaving but you weren't interested in your husband. By the way, Susan, I enjoyed the quick view you gave me of the lingerie you received from me as a gift. Where is it now? Did you give it away as a souvenir?" Susan's face blanched, then she leaned and took a swing at him. She connected with a closed fist, as hard as she was capable of hitting him. It was unexpected, almost knocking him off the couch. As she surged to her feet and stormed out of the room Pete called after her, "What happened to the second earring from that set I gave you Saturday?" She froze for a moment before swinging back to face him. "What do you mean, the second earring?" "There's only one on the dresser, Susan. Where's the other?" "I... I don't know. I'll have to look for it. And speaking of earrings, did you think you could buy my forgiveness with the necklace and earrings? It won't happen, buster." "Susan, I bought that set for you weeks ago. Didn't you recognize it? You raved over it when we saw it in the Swank's window. I was back the next day to buy it for you. It was an anniversary gift woman, not a bribe. If our marriage needs bribes, it isn't worth keeping." That said, Pete got up, grabbed his coat and headed out the door for a long walk. Just before the door shut he leaned back in and called to his wife's back as she was disappearing up the stairs, "Susan, I need to know if you used a condom on your date Saturday night." Susan stopped for a moment, then whipped around, a panicky look on her face. Pete had already shut the door and didn't see her reaction. To be continued Don't forget to vote, and send me your comments. If you like them I'll keep in mind what you like. If you don't like them, I'll keep your comments in mind when I am working on another story. A Woman's Wrath Ch. 03 Pete stood on the porch, wondering 'which way to go'. When he caught himself thinking exactly those words, a sardonic smile forced itself onto his face. "That's sure the question, which way to go," he thought. "'Tis better to face the slings and arrows of outrageous fate, or divorce?" Thinking the Bard wouldn't have been too interested in his little dilemma, he strode down the walk, then turned left. Wandering the streets aimlessly, he found himself approaching a city park near his home. He hadn't been there in years, but when his son was growing up he spent a minimum of two afternoons during the week, then another 3 hours on a Saturday or Sunday. That was every week during soccer season, he coached the team. Turning into the gate he wandered to the walking track that circled the big field, large enough to handle two full sized football or soccer fields. Two kids' teams were practicing. Continuing around the track to the side facing the small river the city sported he found himself a bench and sat down to think and watch the kids kicking the ball around. For a few moments he amused himself deciding which drills he would put these eleven and twelve year olds through from the dozens he had used himself as a coach. Solving the old problems, so important fifteen years ago, he found his mind clearing. Soon he turned to thoughts of what of the disasters that had visited his life in the week. Last Monday had been pretty standard, he had dealt with these people before and hadn't expected these negotiations to be different. His company had a product needed in manufacturing the Acme's electronics. It was unique in that by itself did the work of three compounds provided by rest of his industry for this process. They had closely guarded their patented process to manufacture the liquid that saved the using company time and when used properly gave a superior product. He had been intended to give a discount if Acme, a long time customer, signed a three-year contract. But Acme had their own ideas, wanting a larger discount and a two-year contract. There was a lot of money involved, and the two parties sat down to a long bargaining session. When it ran past 8:00 PM on Monday, Acme contacted a local hotel/motel and arranged a room for Tuesday. The room, a large standard hotel room, with en suite bath made everyone's life a lot easier. The queen-sized bed hadn't been removed, but with just himself, an Acme Vice-President, his personal assistant Maurine and the head of manufacturing it had adequate. They had eaten catered room service meals and happily spent from 9:00 AM to 10:00 PM Tuesday hashing out the contract. Maurine had proven to be a problem for Pete. She was a buxom woman in her mid-thirties, with a lush figure, a lovely face, dark auburn hair and apparently an immediate lust for Pete. She hadn't been obvious about it Monday, but by Tuesday afternoon her little touches and caresses had made her desires and needs very clear to Pete. His problem was he and Susan had been too busy the past weekend for their usual romp in the sack. He was horny, and this attractive woman making no bones about what she wanted, at least to him, was giving him an embarrassing bone. Late Thursday morning they made a break through and arrived at decision. The Vice President along with the Manufacturing Manager had left, leaving Maurine and Pete to complete drawing up the contract. It hadn't taken too much time, using Pete's laptop, and by mid-afternoon they faxed the completed contract to the Acme offices, where it had been signed and a fax sent to Pete and his head office. Pete signed the document produced by his laptop and printer, and the job was done. Maurine took him to the lounge for a celebratory drink, which led to another and then another. Pete had no idea how many he'd downed, but he suspected Maurine had slipped the bartender a couple twenties to give him doubles. Maurine finally asked him if it wouldn't be better to go back to the room they had been negotiating in and have a meal sent in. She promised to have it paid by Acme. By that time almost anything the attractive woman suggested made sense to Pete so they wandered, arm in arm, back to the room. Maurine giggled and bounced on the bed, then complained of being too hot. She gave him an extremely seductive semi-strip as she removed her suit jacket and pantyhose. Then telling him he looked too formal for their little dinner party she proceeded to strip him of his jacket, tie, shoes, socks, and finally even his shirt. All the while bestowing caresses and kisses almost everywhere on his body. She even included a foot massage, which left him lying spread-eagled atop the big bed. The next thing he knew, Maurine was curled up next to him, minus her blouse and skirt. After what he had drunk and with dinner not yet even ordered, his system was not designed to ignore the near nude woman raining kisses and caresses on his chest. Soon he found himself teasing her, then removing her bra and panties. Maurine kissed her way down his chest, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his trousers as she worked her way down. Before his cloudy mind understood, his shaft was deep into her throat and Pete was receiving as good a blowjob as he had ever had. Being the gentleman he was he couldn't ignore the sexy body kneeling beside him and explored her breasts with one hand, while the other explored the womanly folds and secrets lying between her legs. It couldn't have been five minutes into their mutual gratification when Maurine screamed out her first orgasm. Things had been cloudy in Pete's mind before that point, after that he only recalled only bits and pieces. --Lifting Maurine by the hips, positioning her over his rock hard pole, maneuvering her until his glans was parting her labia, then dropping her hard onto his erection. She screamed then too, which had alarmed him at the time until she calmed enough to tell him just the sudden full penetration gave her a huge climax. --Watching his rod disappear inside her, then slowly come back into view as she rode him to another of her innumerable orgasms. Soon she was climaxing every time he reached full penetration inside her, screaming every time. --Sometime in the night he awoke, wondering why he was so hungry. The hunger problem was wiped from his mind when the woman deep throated him again and soon he was kneeling over her, driving his big meat into her from behind, doggy fashion. --Wondering where she had come upon such the collection of colored and flavored condoms as she rolled an orange one onto his cock. That was what brought on his later problems. His mind shifted to how much Susan loved orange and he found himself wishing he had found orange condoms back when he and she needed protection. Thoughts of Susan was never far from his mind after that point. He managed to "perform" more than adequately using the orange condom, but that was the last of his erections. By that time the sun was well up, and he begged the evening was over without hurting her feelings. He took a shower and dressed, to Maurine' dismay. She kept telling him check out time wasn't until 1:00 PM. He tried explaining to her that he was a man in his late forties, and the night had already far exceeded what would have been his expectations if he had been sober. As he was leaving the room to return to his hotel to grab his luggage and return to Susan Maurine plastered herself against, him trying to get him to stay. The clinch that Susan's friend, Donna, had seen was not a long soulful kiss, but a raunchy woman trying to force a man to give her another bonk. The man in question was trying to leave while leaving Maurine's ego and feelings intact. He was sure it had been longer than five minutes before he had been able to break away. He had no idea how he hadn't seen Donna, unless she was standing behind him and on the same side of the hall. Whatever, it had fucked up his life. The two of them never did order dinner, though he suspected they had made a large dent in the stash of drinks in the small refrigerator. - - - - - - "Susan, I need to know, did you use a condom on your date Saturday night?" The harsh words spun Susan around as she started up the steps to their room. Before she could answer, the door closed and she was alone in the house. The way things had gone so wrong she wasn't certain he would be returning. How had she gotten herself in this mess? She understood her insane jealousy when she discovered Pete had cheated on her. The question was why had she held onto that rage so long? She hadn't been a vindictive woman in the past, why now? Slowly dragging herself up the steps she thought of his question. There was no possibility of Devon having gotten her pregnant. She had a hysterectomy a few years ago. Just a year before her operation, Peter had a vasectomy. But what about STD's? She felt they were unlikely, but their danger hadn't occurred to her until Peter asked that question. "What have I done?" she thought. "This was even worse than the situation Pete had dropped them into. The hell of it was from what I knew about testing for STD's, any infections I may have picked up would be weeks or even months showing themselves." She had to call Devon and ask him if there were a danger. He certainly hadn't been worried about the problem Saturday night! Thinking about Devon another worry came to mind. After what she had done, how I acted with him Saturday, would he assume he had a claim on her as a lover? Susan sat down on the top step and brooded. Pete had as much as accused her of making a date with Devon for Saturday just to get even with him. She squirmed around on the steps for a moment. "It wasn't exactly a date," she thought, "but I had asked Devon Friday afternoon if he was going to be dancing at Top of the Town Saturday. I knew he went there often. He told her he wasn't sure and wondered why I had asked? She had told him she'd be there Saturday evening and was hoping to have a few dances with him." No date, except by implication. She hadn't told the man she was going out with him, but looking at it now he probably assumed her intention was to spend the evening with him. At least some of it... She burst out, "I sure as hell spent more than some of the night with him! What was I thinking of?" She spent the evening ignoring her husband, dancing almost every dance with Devon, letting him take all kinds of liberties while they danced. She let him go way past the "getting fresh" stage, and all of it in plain sight of Pete. How couldn't he get the wrong idea? Then I kept slugging down Margaritas! Toward the end of the evening she couldn't even remember what she had been trying to prove to Pete. By then she only wanted to show him other men found me attractive. But she hadn't seen how far overboard she had gone. When Pete finally got fed up and told her he was leaving, with his wife or without she got on her high, very drunken horse. No body was giving HER orders. Certainly not after what HE had done to her! So she snubbed her husband, her Pete. Sure he'd made a mistake, but even to her now it looked like she'd gone way the heck beyond what he had done. Sure, she didn't know if last week was the only time he had stepped out on her, or if it was the last of a long string. Still she had never felt he had been unfaithful and even last week he hadn't rubbed her nose in it or even tried to lie his way out of it. It was then that she recalled the sneers and insults that Devon had been casually throwing out about Pete all night long. Most of them were made just to her, but some of his jibes had been at the table and directed right at Pete. Pete had flinchrd a couple times, and she had expected him to reply. But he never did. What an awful scene that would have been if he had responded! She would have been devastated. Dressed like she was and behaving like she had been everyone would have assumed she was a complete slut. And, Oh God! She had been acting like one! He must have been thinking of her, even then. The way she had acted was shameful, and Pete certainly had every right to call her on it. He is a proud man. The only reason he didn't "make something of it" had to have been a desire to protect her from the consequences of the scene that would have happened. And that look of contempt on Devon's face as he whirled her away just after Pete demanded she leave with him and she had refused! How could she have let that go by, why didn't she stop it then. She knew men's egos were fragile, but Pete's didn't need to be fragile to be hurt badly the way she allowed Devon to treat him, her husband. By the way she had treated him. And on a night they had planned to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage. Would there be a twenty-sixth? The night wasn't too clear in her memory by the time Pete walked out. It got a whole lot foggier afterward. Trying to think about it brought up just bits and pieces. When we got back to the table and Pete was gone she started to panic, but 'good ol' Dev' somehow convinced her that was how Pete wanted it. She really must have wanted to be convinced. They had another drink, which neither needed, then went to collect our coats. It seemed now that when Devon told her he was taking her home, and she agreed, she thought he was taking her to her home. Of course, he wasn't. When they pulled up in front of his condo she was confused. When he opened her door and helped her out she thought now she tried to tell him she wasn't home. He laughed at her, telling her he knew where home was, and this was it. Then she must have let him lead her docilely into his condo. She didn't remember. The next thing she recalled was Devon hanging up her coat and putting on some music to dance to. He put on slow dances, and just continued taking liberties with her body as he had at the dance hall. "Why not," she thought, "she had been passively giving him permission all night long." Except here it was private and she knew in the back of her mind they wouldn't be embarrassing themselves in public. It was now very private. He unbuttoned her blouse, then shrugged off his shirt. The sensuousness of the bare bellies rubbing together sent chills and thrills throughout my body. She didn't remember when he unfastened the bra, or when he dropped it to the floor with her blouse. But she did remember the feel of nipples rubbing against his naked chest, the soft wool of his chest hairs and their electricity running through her nipples. The knot in her belly was clearly remembered and how her center went soft and liquid. When he had stepped back to unfasten the skirt and drop it to join with the rest of the clothes he had stripped off her and discarded on the floor her knees wouldn't hold me. Not until then had she touched him, but she clasped her hands on his bare shoulders to keep from collapsing on the floor. Sitting there on the top step of the hallway leading to the bedroom she had shared with Pete for so many years she could still feel the heat of Devon's gaze raking her naked body. The sobs started anew, sitting on the steps outside her bedroom. When she had finally gotten her legs under her, Devon stepped back just looked at her. It was like he was memorizing her body, like he was admiring a new possession. He even walked around her slowly me. She felt like a mare at auction, a buyer judging her fine points. It had shocked her last night, but she found his actions arousing. Every woman wants to feel wanted: Last night after throwing herself at him she was aroused when he treated her like a piece of meat. She remembered shutting her eyes and soaking up the attention. Until that moment she could swear it never occurred to her drunken self just where this had to end up. Until that moment all she had wanted to do was show Pete that other men found her attractive. She guess she showed him, all right! Sitting there on the top steps she remembered the bright flashes that caused her eyes to snap open. She saw Devon standing off to the side, a smirk on his face and holding a small digital camera. "Just some mementos for my memory book," he said, tossing the camera on the big red and black plaid sofa. He was buck-naked now but she hadn't known when he had taken off his trousers. His erection was almost painful to see. It wasn't beautiful like Pete's, but it was hard and throbbed with every beat of his heart. Devon 'slithered' over to her, his pole bobbing and dancing with every step. Then he pulled her into his arms, his naked skin hot as it melded with hers. A hand cupped her breast, another went to the small of her back and pulled her groin tight against his maleness. Then he covered her mouth with his, taking possession of her. The next thing she remembered they were over to that big sofa. He released her breast to rip the off cushions, tossing them on the floor. "I can't wait for this first one, baby," he crooned laying her limp body back onto the sofa that had somehow become a full sized bed. She clearly remembered trying to tell him no, but he had her so hot and drunk she was panting. He didn't hear a word or if he did he couldn't understand her. She knew now, sitting at the top of the stairs, it would have made no difference if he had heard her. He had brought her there for only one thing. Her hazy memory couldn't give many details, but she did remember trying to close her legs and feebly pushing at him while trying to separate my mouth from his tongue. All the time shivers of arousal were running through my body. No matter what she tried, she had no strength to carry through. Susan was crying again thinking how her body had surrendered to him. Still, Pete had explained to her often how a woman's body was built to react to sexual stimulation. It was better with someone she knew and cared for, but her body would react in any case. Her hands pushed against his chest but his knees had already slipped between hers. He had already gained entrance to her center. When he spread her legs with his, then he lay himself atop her. His hands casually brushed hers away as his chest flattened her breasts under him and he sealed his mouth to hers. Wriggling to get free of him, she only succeeded in opening herself to him. Feeling the knob of his glans pushing aside her labia she struggled hard; struggled until the head of his prick slipped just inside me. Then she froze, he was already fucking her. She hadn't meant to do this, had only wanted to show Pete how it felt to be so jealous his teeth hurt. It made no difference, she had maneuvered herself onto her back on a stranger's couch. And his long, slender cock was slowly, slowly inching its way inside me. No matter how much she didn't want this, the feel of his manhood slowly filling her was exquisite. He and she had gotten my body so ready she felt orgasmic trembles racing through her body with every additional push he made to enter her. Then his pubic hair was grinding against hers, his pubic bone was grinding against her button. Susan had exploded! Bucking and screaming she clawed at his back, then everything went dark. Sometime later she remembered crouching on her knees, her head resting on her arms as Devon pounded his cock into her from behind with his thumb buried in her ass. Then she was back again to remembering only flashes of scenes. ---She was kneeling on the floor as Devon forced his cock into her throat. ---She was sitting astride the man as he raised and lowered her onto his tool, buried in her. --- How she somehow twisted and fought and kept him from sticking himself up her ass. She clearly remembered Devon booting up his computer, bringing up a site called Literotica, and showing her hundreds of stories catalogued as Loving Wives. All the stories ended with the husband feeling glad his wife had cheated, aroused by the thought of some strange man fucking his wife. They were even aroused at the sight of someone else having sex with his wife. In at least half of those he showed me, in the end the husband sucked the man's cum from out of her body. A Woman's Wrath Ch. 03 What was incredible now was that she had believed what he was telling her! Believed it of Pete, a man she had lived with and loved for so many years! Her drunken self must have been snatching at any little crumb that proved that what she was doing wasn't really hurting the man she loved. "Sweet Jesus help me!" she thought. "I believed what that man was feeding me! I must have been insane besides being too drunk to think." Sitting on that top step she wept, sobbing loudly. Never had she expected something like that could happen. She knew Pete would never be able to completely forgive me. Pete had been a shit to do what he did, but I understood now how this could take place without a persons consent or expectation. She had done so much more! How could she forgive herself! - - - - - Susan was still sitting on the top step of the stairs, crying, when Pete came home hours later. He heard her now quiet sobs and climbed the stairs to stand looking down at his wife, her face buried in her hands. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Gently pulling her to her feet he helped her to the bedroom. He didn't hug, but just his touch was calming. As she stood beside their big bed she saw it was dark outside and time for sleep, if that could ever come. Pete tossed her cotton nightgown on the bed in front, then went into the bathroom, returning with a warm wash cloth. His hands were wonderfully Gentle as he cleansed the tear tracks from her face. "Susan, I think what I did drove you a little mad, a little crazy. Get undressed and ready for bed. We don't know if we can get over this but I'd like to try. You obviously still love me or you wouldn't have reacted like you have today. I love you. We can only let our friendship for one another work and see if we can get to the other side of this. Now, let's try to get some sleep. Sleep won't come easy but we have to try." Susan turned into his arms and burrowed against him. With her face buried in his chest she began telling him what she remembered. It took a long time. "Pete honey, I didn't plan on Saturday going the way it did. It wasn't a date with Devon, but I did tell him Friday when he made his weekly pass at me that we would be dancing at the Top of the Town Saturday night. I had already made reservations there for us to have dinner. I did tell him if he was there he could have a dance. But that was all! He is fun to flirt with, but never did I expect things would get so out of hand." "I don't know how I let myself get so drunk." "When I came out of the Ladies Room you weren't there and I waited for what seemed like an hour. Then Devon came over and told me he had a table, why didn't I come in with him. He told me he wasn't planning to stay long, and we could have his table when he left." "We ordered drinks and waited a few minutes for you and had finished our drinks when he asked me if he could have that dance. We were just going onto the floor when you came in. I guess it hadn't been that long a wait, but I'd had a lot to drink at dinner and time was kind of jumbled up for me." There was a long pause, as Pete stroked her back. Then he told her to get ready for bed, they could talk there. Twenty minutes later they were together in the big bed, lying on their sides so they could look at one another, close but not touching. Pete went into work the next morning, Tuesday, but Susan called in sick. She couldn't pull herself together enough to get to work until Thursday. As she was going out to lunch, Devon caught up with her, pulling her away from the crowd she usually ate with. That sickening smirk was back on his face, "Susan, I'm busy tomorrow night, but why don't you come by Saturday afternoon." "What!" she just stared at him. It seemed incomprehensible that he could be serious. "Be there about 2:00, we can look at your new picture album. You gave me some really fine shots Saturday! See you then!" with that he turned and walked off. Susan looked around but the crowd she was lunching with had already disappeared inside the restaurant. The thought of food now made her gag, so she went back to the office. She didn't get much work done, but thought a lot for the rest of the day. When she got home, Susan made a nice dinner, then waited for Pete to come home. After sitting him down to dinner, making sure he was fed, she led him into the living room. There she sat him down and told him what Devon had said. Peter thought for a time, then looked up at her. "We have two choices, Susan. We can ignore what he asked. Then he will either forget the matter or get mad and try to force you to have sex with him. He'll probably threaten to show me the pictures he took; pictures I already know about so they can't hurt me any more. If you ignore the threat and he sends me the pictures, we will just ignore them and go on with our life." "However, he may decide to make an example of you, thinking you are insulting his manhood. He could threaten to put them on the web, or even send them to your family or your boss. We have assumed your seduction was a one-time thing, sort of a crime of opportunity. Problem is, it may be just one of many. I've read of men acquiring "harems" doing that sort of thing. If that's the case, he won't let you go. If he did it could get back to his other women. We might say it could start a sort of "run on the market". "That leads to our other choice. We can fight him. "If this wasn't a one time thing he can't let you go without punishing you. I have to assume that's the case, a worse case scenario. That scares me. A man that would do that is unbalanced. Which gives us the problem of deciding how far we can push him before he explodes and does something that we can't reverse." "There's another angle here too, love. I'm usually a forgiving man, but what happened Saturday night is festering inside me. I can understand what was going through your head and, while it hurts me I see now how it is hurting you also. I didn't intend to hurt you, it just happened. You were out to hurt me, but like spanking the baby you just wanted to get my attention; make sure it never happened again. Watching you suffer the way you are proves to me you didn't want things to be carried as far as they were." "But ol' Dev' went out of his way to humiliate me. He did a good job of it, too. Susan, I want to get back at the son of a bitch." "You're going to agree to meet him Saturday, but it will be morning not afternoon... No, don't get your back up, I'm not giving you away." "I have a plan that will get him off our backs permanently. It's going to be a really nasty thing to do to poor Devon, the "man's man" that he thinks he is. However it will sure as hell make him careful when dealing with someone else's wife. We'll get him off our backs and won't have to worry about it happening again." "What we're going to do Susan, is..." Continued in Chapter Four A Woman's Wrath Ch. 04 Saturday morning Devon was right on time. Pete couldn't blame him; he would have been there on the dot too if he thought he was going to get another piece of Susan. If the man had been able to see Susan this morning he would have been parked across the street a couple hours early. Pete and Susan were watching from the living room, through the gauzy drapes. They knew it was easy to see out but impossible to see inside on a bright, sunny day like this, particularly if you didn't crowd up to the window but stood back in the shadows of the living room. Susan punched the garage door opener just as Devon drove into the driveway, allowing him to pull into the empty space where Pete's car was usually parked. Pete had driven the car around the corner to the big Safeway store and parked there. While Pete hurried upstairs to wait in his den, Susan hurried into the kitchen to let Devon in through the door leading into the garage. By the time Devon was climbing out of his car Susan was standing in the kitchen doorway, brightly backlit by the sunshine streaming through the sliding glass doors. She and Pete had planned carefully. They agreed it was important catching Devon's attention immediately and keeping him from thinking of anything but sex. Susan was wearing a thin pink summer frock which fit loosely and was thin enough to clearly show her lovely shape with the light behind her. It was clear her seductively shaped breasts were braless and her black French-cut panties were plainly visible. Her legs were bare, her hair down around her shoulders framing and shadowing her carefully made up face. Devon saw a classic temptress, mysteriously shadowed and clearly available. Susan felt like a tart, standing displayed as she was. But like every woman she played many roles and the one attracting men's attention was something she enjoyed doing. What she didn't enjoy was doing it for a man who considered her a piece of meat the pig was welcome to ogle openly, one he expected to debauch. Still, she kept a mysterious Mona Lisa smile on her face, much easier and more effective than an seductive look. She imagined she saw him figuratively pawing the ground, smoke billowing from his nose. As he reached the door she moved back to let him in, accepting a kiss on the cheek. She was careful not to return his passion, this was going to be hard enough without letting Devon get out of control. Besides, wearing the tight, stone faded jeans it was easy to see he was hard enough as it was. There was no need to overdo it. "Uhm... no need hurry, Devon," she crooned. "We have mid afternoon before we need to worry about Peter. Let's take it nice and easy." Leading him by the hand into the living room which seemed shadowed coming from the brightness outside. She stopped in front of the brown leather sofa, caressing his palm with her thumb. Looking up at him through half opened eyes she huskily crooned, "Sit... and take it easy, honey. That's the way it's going to be today, nice and... easy. We have all the time we need to do everything. Get comfortable while I go and get your drink." In the kitchen she opened the refrigerator to pull out the small pitcher of whiskey sour Pete had mixed, along with two glasses from the freezer. As she placed them on a tray she called softly into the living room, "Hope you like whiskey sours, lover. I don't feel like margaritas today and made some sours specially for you." "Sounds like a plan," Devon managed to answer, his voice sounding husky. A whiskey sour wasn't his favorite drink, but he wouldn't mind some if the little slut wanted to suck some down. This was going even better than he had hoped. The slut was going to be fun to pork again. If he went with her program taking it slow to start with, she would be even tastier. Since she was going with the flow it would be easier to get her again if he didn't make things too tough today. In the living room Susan set the tray on the oak glass-topped coffee table before the couch. Turning slowly and bending forward to give him a look down the front of her dress as it gaped open, she sat down before pouring each of the frosted old fashioned glasses full. Handing Devon a glass, she put hers on the oak end table before standing up slowly, watching to be sure he saw her breasts bob as she moved. Then she walked to the oak entertainment center and turned on the stereo. The sounds of Oscar Peterson's piano softly filled the room. Turning back she saw her mark had already downed half his drink. Considering the glasses held easily twice as much as the usual sour glass he was on his way. He just didn't know it yet. Swaying slowly back to where he was sitting, his feet on her coffee table, she thought, "Hey, this is fun. I can play the vamp with someone other than Pete and don't have to worry about consequences. Sure glad Pete's here though, makes me feel a whole lot safer." She stopped between the coffee table and the sofa, turning slowly and pointing her ass in his face as she bent from the waist, she picked up the pitcher then froze in place as Devon ran a hand up her leg under her skirt. She stood quietly, letting him get a good feel, before clucking, "Not too fast, lover. I want this to last." As he pulled his hand back out from under her dress she couldn't help shuddering. Saturday night she had gloried in his touch but today it only felt slimy. A quick glance at his face and the smug look he wore and she knew he thought she had been shivering from excitment. "God!" she thought. "Men are so egotistical!" Before sitting she refilled his glass, then set the pitcher back on the tray and sat down beside him. As Devon ran a hand up and down her arm she leaned over and kissed him under the chin. She made it last, feeling his Adams apple bob under her lips. Picking up her glass so that her hand concealed the level of sour in the glass, she tilted it against her lips. She pretended to sip before setting it down. Just as Pete had assured her, the man had raised his glass and taken another gulp himself. For a few moments she sat half-facing him while she played with his hair. When he reached for her she purred, "Let me play for a while, lover. I really want to go slow this first time. Then later we can get really dirty and fuck like rabbits! 'K?" The man could only say yes, automatically taking another big gulp of his drink, one that drained his glass. Susan reached over, setting her glass on the end table where he couldn't see it. Devon was already too far out of it that he wouldn't notice she hadn't taken a sip with him. Then she refilled his glass, pretended to refill her own and again pretended taking a drink. Susan hoped to be able to get through this first stage quickly without taking even a sip of the rohypnole herself. Devon had already downed at least six ounces of whiskey in just the first 20 minutes. On top of the alcohol they had laced the sours with enough of the drug to put down a half dozen people, not even counting the alcohol. It shouldn't take long before he was down for the count. It was her job to keep him distracted. Lordy, she had enjoyed doing that with him last Saturday but today it was a real effort to touch him without grimacing and shuddering. Amazing what being introduced to some men's real character did to their attractiveness. Susan spent the next fifteen minutes playing with his hair, undoing his shirt and carelessly stroking his chest, all the while keeping Devon's glass filled. The pitcher was a quarter down when she had to catch the glass as it slipped out of his hand. His head fell back against the back of the sofa, then he fell to his side. For just a moment she was mildly concerned that he had imbibed enough rohypnole to be dangerous. Looking at the slime ball she felt her concern fade away. Susan moved out of the way as he fell, then called Pete out of the den to help her. Before she was on her feet her husband, watching from the hall, was beside her. Together they hauled him into a spare bedroom. There they stripped him, leaving him bare ass naked on the bed. Pete rummaged through Devon's jeans for his keys and wallet. Then after putting Devon's shirt on over the jeans he was wearing he kissed his sexy wife. Then taking the garage-door opener with him he climbed into Devon's car, leaving her with the unconscious slimeball. Getting Devon's address from his driver's license he drove to the apartment carefully staying at or under the speed limit. It took only a moment to figure out which key fit and opened the apartment door. Once inside he went through the place, searching every drawer and cabinet. He found the pictures he was looking for in a locked bottom drawer of Devon's desk. He didn't take time to go through them, just slipping them into a paper bag along with several floppy discs stored with them. The digital camera the man had used last Saturday wasn't in the apartment, but he did find his computer. Doing it the easy way, he started a complete reformat of his hard-drive. Then he assembled all of his floppies disks and zip disks he could find. It would be easier and less nerve wracking to go through the disks on his computer at home. Depending on what he found he might do a format on all the program disks he took home. Leaving he noticed a small video camera sitting on an end table. Scooping it up he dropped it in the big paper barrel bag before he headed out the door, leaving as he had found it except for the snapped lock on the desk drawer. Then he headed home, arriving two hours after he had left. Once home Pete began quickly looking at each of the floppy discs. He reformatted every disc that had pictures on it, he didn't want to take time to discriminate, although he tried to sample several spots on each disc. He found two that had family pictures and he left them alone, after making sure that was all they held. He was going to punish the man, but family memories might bring him back into the light. Going through the discs stored with the photos it was no surprise when he found two discs having pictures of women he didn't know, but similar to the ones taken of Susan. He destroyed those discs, but kept selected photo prints. When he had a chance he would have Susan contact any of the women they could identify and let them know that Devon no longer had the photos. Having completed the chores with Devon's photos, they set to work making photos of Devon in as many compromising poses as their imaginations came up with. They had had several days to think of this In none of the shots, taken with the borrowed video camera and their digital camera, could anyone but Devon be identified. They tried hard to take photographic "evidence" of Devon involved in every perversion or gay act they collectively had heard of. Pete had been surprised at some of the ideas his straight laced wife came up with. They had no idea if he were homophobic or not, but felt that a man trying to show how "macho" he was could likely be considered anti-gay to some degree. In any event, some of the things they had "proof" of his doing would surely be considered sick to most employers. And few women would dare trust themselves with a man who relished having them done to him. Printing out some of the better, more distasteful photos they had taken, Pete slipped them in the envelope the blackmail photos had been in. Then he filled the disc Devon had labeled "Susan" with the same shots, along with all the rest. By the time they were done it had been full dark outside for some time. While Susan carried the "evidence" discs and photo's out to Devon's car Pete dressed the man in his outerwear. When Susan came back the two of them manhandled him out to his car, stuffing him on the floor in the back seat. Pete slipped behind the wheel, Susan in the passenger seat, and pulled out into the street. Susan closed the garage door with the remote while Pete drove to the Safeway parking lot. There he let Susan out at his car and she climbed in it to follow him to Devon's apartment. Once there he slipped Devon's arm around his neck and staggered convincingly with him to his door. Once inside he drug him to the bedroom, stripped him naked and laid him on top of the covers. Susan carried the "evidence" in and placed it in the drawer when Pete told her where they went. Because he felt like it, Pete slipped on a pair of leather gloves and worked Devon over thoroughly. When he was done his eyes were blacked, he had a painfully swollen lip, broken ribs and very sore gonads. Exhausted Pete drove them home, leaving no clues of who could have done this to Devon. Devon knew of course, but he was told in an anonymous phone call what would happen to the photos and video if he tried to blow the whistle. A Woman's Wrath Peter looked at her for a moment, before raising his arm to call the waitress over. Glancing at Devon he couldn't help but notice the contempt on his face. As the band was winding down the next dance, Pete asked Susan if he could have the next dance. "Peter! You know you can't dance! Besides, I need a breather." She looked at Devon, "Besides, I get SO HOT dancing. Don't you, Dev?" she added. Devon smiled, while looking from Pete to Susan and back again, "Yeah, a good dancer can sure get you hot, Susan and you're the best!" The band started the next number, a real slow number. Devon turned to Susan, "Hey, babe. I know you're tired, but how about another swing around the floor?" Susan looked at Pete, remembering she had just refused to dance with him, "Sure, Dev. I'm ready if you are!" And so the evening went. Susan refusing to even step on the floor with Peter, slugging down drinks as fast as she could get to them. When she sat down now, it was always next to Devon, while giving Peter a challenging look. Devon sat across the table from Pete and Susan ended up almost sitting on his lap. Pete couldn't be sure but thought Devon had his hand on Susan's leg. As close as she was sitting to him, it would have been difficult for him not to have his hand in her lap. He refused to speculate how much further his hand had wandered. As the evening progressed, Devon's contempt for Peter grew less and less hidden. Finally, Pete had enough, "Susan, it's time to go home, come on honey. You've made your point." He stood up and offered her his hand. "Pete, you gotta be kid'n. Ev'nin's young, and you h'vn't even seen the point yet," Susan slurred, holding up a hand to Devon to take her out for the next dance. Devon stood up, smirking at Pete. "Susan," Peter began, as calmly as he could. "You've had a big evening, and made a point that didn't need making. You are messing with trouble, honey. It's time for us to go home. I'll be leaving during this dance. Don't push this too hard, please, honey." "Wha' ya goin' do? Leave me here alone, hotshot?" "You have been making a point all night, Susan. And you haven't been alone all evening, you've been with Devon. If I leave it won't be leaving you alone. I want you to come home with me, Susan. Don't push this any farther! Please!" Devon sneered at Peter, reached down and took Susan's hand, "Go on home old man. I'll see your wife is taken care of." Peter just stood there, straight and tall. "Don't push your luck Devon. This is between my wife and me. It's her decision, but if you want to step into the middle the outcome won't be what you expect." For a moment Devon and Susan stood looking at Peter. Then Susan turned and pulled Devon back to the dance floor. "You ain't got no balls, Pete. I'm stayin' and dancin'. Order us some more drinks." Peter watched numbly as his wife literally waltzed away with another man. He was sober and able to control his temper, but it was hard. If he stepped in, no matter what the outcome, Susan would hold it against him. This was her revenge. But it had gone on too long, she seemed intent on humiliating him, and he felt she had the right; but only to a point. If she succeeded in abasing him, she wouldn't have respect for him. He wanted his marriage, but though she refused to believe it, Susan had already gone far beyond anything Peter had done. He didn't know why, but the men he had been doing business with had wanted to embarrass him and had done so by making sure he was incapacitated with drinks, then pushed the girl onto him. Susan had been drinking, but well knew what she was doing. At the moment he began to believe she fully intended to go home with Devon. He had no intention to stay around and watch it happen. Since that was her intention, they would either find a way to live with it, or they were through. Pete waited until that dance number was practically over before getting up from the table and slowly making his way around the dance floor and out the door. No one looking at him would have understood the ache in his gut and how near tears he was. It had been impossible to talk the problem out with Susan. She had refused to listen at home, and her immediate acceptance of being picked up by Devon. He didn't see either Susan or Devon as he was on his way across the floor and out the door. To be continued Don't forget to vote, and let me know what you thought of this first chapter. Thanks, the Troubador