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The Best of The Worst

By: techsan



Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to Copperbutterfly for her editing to make this a better story.

*

I had been working 12 hour days six days a week for 13 weeks so when the boss said that the project was in good enough shape I could take that Friday afternoon off, I wasn't about to argue with him. Tiredly I headed home.

I was mildly surprised to see Yvonne's car pulled up into the middle of our driveway, blocking the entrance to both garage units, so I parked on the street. She must have forgotten something she needed at work and came home on her lunch hour to get it.

I let myself in the unlocked front door and closed it behind me. Looking around, I expected to find Yvonne in the kitchen or the room we used as a home office but they were both empty. I thought I heard sounds from upstairs so I assumed she must be up there. I started up the carpeted stairs.

I was still a few steps from the upper landing when I heard words that caused my tiredness to fall like raindrops off a slicker. It was my wife Yvonne pleading, "Fuck me, baby, come on, harder, faster, do it, honey. I need your cock!"

That did not portend well for things to come. Silently I climbed the remaining steps and turned to our open bedroom door. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, the bed covers had been thrown off the mattress onto the floor at the foot of the bed, and Yvonne was laying on her back in the center of the bed, holding her legs up near her shoulders. On his knees above her, driving his slick cock into Yvonne's frothy pussy was my supposed best friend, Wayne Jorgenson.

I stepped up to the side of the bed before either of them saw me. Through clenched teeth, I growled, "What th' hell is going on here?"

Wayne looked up at me with the face of someone in the throes of passion. He had crammed his cock into Yvonne and was holding her hips tightly and I knew that he was pumping her full of his cum.

"Oh, my god! Raymond, what are you doing here?" Yvonne asked, shock registering on her face. The only time she called me Raymond was when she was confused.

"No, my beloved wife! The question is what th' hell are YOU doing here?" I turned to Wayne and shoved him as hard as I could, dislodging him from his position inside my wife. "Some friend you are."

"Hey, I'm just doing what you're not man enough to do."

"WHAT?" I screamed.

"You aren't man enough to take care of her. Some of us have to do what you can't."

"Get th' fuck out of here, you bastard. If I ever see you here -- or anywhere else with Yvonne -- you'll be trying to digest lead. Get out!"

Wayne picked up his clothes and insolently slouched out of the room.

"Raymond ... Ray, this is not what you think. I'm not ... "

"Not cheating on me? Not screwing somebody besides your husband? Not breaking your wedding vows? BULLSHIT!"

"Ray, I was just ... I had to have ... what you can't give me."

"And what th' fuck does that mean? Are you saying I don't make you cum? I don't satisfy you when we make love? No, wait. We weren't making love, were we? It was just fucking to you, wasn't it?"

"No! No, it wasn't like that, Ray. Of course you satisfy me when we make love. And, yes, Ray, it is making love. I do love you, Ray. You're the only man I love."

"Then why th' hell were you screwing my so-called best friend?"

"Because ... because I need more than you can give me." Her voice was nearly a whisper.

"You WHAT?" I screamed.

"I need more than you ... can give me."

"What are you talking about, woman?"

"I need to be fucked more often than you can do it, Ray."

"Oh? Since when?"

"Since forever. Since ... before we were married."

"We've been doing it four or five times every week since before we got married. Are you saying that is not enough for you?"

"No, it's not." Again she was whispering.

"And just how often do you think you need to be screwed?"

"At least three times ... a day."

"Three times a DAY? And it never occurred to you to tell me this?"

"No. I knew you couldn't do that consistently."

"But you didn't even fucking try, did you?"

"No."

"Wayne said 'some of us,' didn't he? How many are there?"

She said something so softly I couldn't even hear.

"What? Speak up. How many?"

"Eleven."

"Eleven? You have been fucking eleven men? You've been screwing eleven fucking cocks? What kind of fucking slut are you, woman?"

"I need sex, Ray. But I don't love them. I love you, Ray. I've always come home to you, Ray."

"Damn! Now that's some fuckin' consolation, isn't it? My fucking wife loves me ... but she screws everything that wears pants. You fucking bitch!"

I walked to the dresser and picked up a writing pad and pen, then dropped it on her naked lap.

"Name them. I want first names and last names. If I don't know them, I want to know where you met them. Don't try to change the names. If I find out you lied about any of them or left someone off, so help me I'll kill you. Start writing!"

Yvonne looked up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Wha ... what are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet but I want to know every man you have been intimate with. That means whether it was oral or intercourse or just a hand job, I want to know their names. Write!"

She sobbed but began to write. I backed away and watched. She took nearly twenty minutes to write the list, stopping every so often to think. I could only hope that she wasn't making up names to protect her lovers.

When she finally handed me the list, I read each name, finding that I knew most of them either personally or by name from discussions we had about her work. Besides Wayne, there were two other men from our neighborhood. There were three salesmen, two mail clerks and one warehouse manager from her office. There was one of her old lovers from high school. The last name was a man she had met at a local supermarket, a total stranger. Ohmygawd, what a complete, total slut she was!

Shit! I was brokenhearted. I had loved Yvonne with all my heart. True we had only been married for three years, but I had been completely monogamous since our first date, over four years earlier. I thought she had been too, but that's what happens when you assume -- it makes and ass out of you and me. Well, me, at least!

I took the list and went across the hall to our guest bedroom, slamming the door after me. I flopped down on the bed, pondering what had happened and what courses of action were available to me. That my marriage was over was a given. Love? Sheeit! She didn't know the meaning of the word.

I had dealt with an attorney a couple of times for company business. Dragging out the phone book, I flipped open my cell phone and called his office. He wasn't available but I identified myself to his secretary, reminding her that I had dealt with him for company business and I wanted his recommendation for a divorce attorney. A half hour later, he called back and gave me two names of lawyers that he said were very good in that line of work. He recommended the woman, Ms. Sally M. Ross, as his first choice.

I called her office and her secretary said that she had an opening at 10:30 the following morning, although she only worked until noon on Saturdays. I assured her I would be there on time.

I lay there thinking about what I would do. Right from the beginning, I knew I would never harm Yvonne, no matter how upset and disgusted I was with her actions. She probably deserved to have some sort of corporal punishment but it was not in my makeup to do that kind of thing to a woman. Now the men were something entirely different. I looked over the list, wondering how many of them were married, how many had kids. I wanted my revenge on the men so I'd have to contemplate what might hurt them the worst. 

As for as Yvonne was concerned, I intended to leave her. I knew that the laws of the state would probably result in her getting half of all our assets and I probably couldn't do much about that. However I didn't intend for her to get one cent more than I absolutely had to give her.

I was thankful that we had decided to wait a few years before we started a family. We both wanted kids but wanted to get established first. That thought gave me an idea. When we were first married, I had started a little savings account, ostensibly for 'the kids college fund', assuming that we would one day have kids. I had added to that account every payday, never telling Yvonne that we had that fund to use when the kids needed it. In just three years it had already become a tidy little sum ... but I didn't intend to declare it as part of our assets. It wasn't her money and I didn't feel she was entitled to any of it.

Three times that afternoon, Yvonne knocked on the door and wanted to talk. I kept telling her to go away because I didn't want to hear any more from her. The third time, I told her if she bothered me again, I would pick her up and bodily throw her out of the house. She must have believed me because she didn't come back.

The next morning, I showered and dressed, then drove to the attorney's office for my 10:30 meeting. Ms. Ross turned out to be quite a no nonsense lady. She listened to my story, took a look at the list of names in Yvonne's handwriting, and asked me what I wanted to do. I told her I wanted a divorce and I wanted her to get as little of our assets as legally possible. She confirmed that there was little chance of getting anything other than a 50-50 split of our assets. Since we didn't have children, there would be no custody consideration so it should be pretty much cut-and-dried, unless fraud could be proved and she didn't see anything like that. I had to agree. She said she would have the papers prepared for filing by Tuesday and they would be served to Yvonne then too.

On the way home, I decided to go by Jorgenson's house, knowing that he religiously played golf on Saturday mornings and wouldn't get home until late afternoon. When I knocked on the door, Janice Jorgenson opened the door and let me in.

"Hi, Ray. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be working again today."

"No, the boss gave me a little time off."

"Wayne's not here. He's probably several hours from finishing up yet."

"I didn't want to see Wayne. I wanted to talk with you."

"Oh? Come on in. Let's sit in here." She led me to their family room.

After sitting on the sofa, she looked at me with what looked like trepidation on her face. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I ... uh, hate to be the bearer of bad news but ... I came home yesterday about lunchtime and found Wayne screwing Yvonne in our bed."

Janice's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my god, no! Not again!"

"Again?"

"Yeah. I caught him a couple of years ago screwing Beverly Goodwin. I told him then I'd give him another chance but there wouldn't be another one. I've had this suspicion that something was going on between him and Yvonne but I couldn't really prove it. I'm so sorry, Ray."

"Yeah, me too. But Wayne wasn't the only one she was screwing. There's a whole bunch more."

"On, no, Ray! I'm so sorry. I didn't know that was going on."

"No, neither did I and I guess I should have known."

"So ... what are you going to do now?"

"Well, I'm filing for divorce. Please don't tell anyone yet. She'll be served Tuesday. After that, I don't care who knows."

"I won't say anything. I guess I'm going to have to find a lawyer myself. Do you have a recommendation?"

I gave her the information about Ms. Ross, telling her that I didn't know a lot about her but she seemed to know what she was doing. 

"I'll call her Monday," Janice said. "Have you thought about ... other actions?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know ... revenge?"

"Oh, yeah! I spent a lot of last night thinking about it," I chortled. "I thought of a lot of things I'd like to do, but most of them would put me behind bars or require a partner."

"Oh? Require a partner? What kind of ... activity were you thinking of?"

"Well ... I wanted to ... uh, invite the wife of one of her lovers to have sex with me in our bed and make her watch to see how she likes it." I was speaking softly, not wanting to offend Janice.

But she giggled, thought for several moments, then giggled again. "I like it. I'll do it, if you want me to ... with one condition."

"What's the condition?"

"After we do it at your house, you have to come back here and do it with me when Wayne gets home. I want to see how he likes it too."

I grinned. "You've got a deal, sweet lady."

"Wait a minute. Let me change clothes. I'll be right back."

She disappeared around the corner and I heard her running up the stairs. About five minutes later, she reappeared wearing a pair of short shorts that framed her deliciously round ass and a white blouse with no sleeves and deep V-shaped opening down the front. I noticed that the only button that was fastened was just above the waistband of her shorts and she wasn't wearing a bra, leaving a very generous amount of her large full breasts uncovered. I felt my cock stir and begin to grow stiff. I offered her my arm and led her to my car.

It was only a three minute trip to my house. Janice grabbed my offered hand and excitedly hurried inside with me.

"Hurry, Jan. I just can't wait to fuck you," I vowed loudly.

"Me, too, Ray. I really need a good cock for a change," she responded, getting the idea that I wanted Yvonne to hear us coming.

"Yeah, I want to feel those big beautiful tits of yours. They've always made my mouth water. And your fantastic ass! I can't wait to get my hands on it."

"Oh, Ray! You make me soooo horny! Let's fuck, honey."

By then, we had almost run up the stairs and I pulled her into the master bedroom. As I had hoped, Yvonne was going through clothes in her closet.

I said, "Oh, hi, hon. Don't mind us. We're just going to have some fun."

Janice already was tearing her blouse out of her shorts and her big bare tits were jiggling where we both could see them. I kicked my shoes off, and began to strip.

"WHAT!" Yvonne yelled. "What do you think you're doing?"

Calmly I replied, "Why, dear, I'm just doing what you did. Janice and I decided that we'd like to fuck each other so I figured it would be a good idea to do it here where you screwed Wayne. That is alright, isn't it?"

"Hell, no, it's not alright! The only reason I fucked Wayne is that I didn't get all I needed from you. You can't go fucking other women when you couldn't give me as much as I needed."

"Aw, dear, there must be some misunderstanding," I said in my most sarcastic voice, as I stepped out of my pants and underwear. Janice was already naked and crawling into the bed. "You never once asked me to make out with you when I didn't comply, did you? Not once. You don't know whether I could have done it or not, do you?"

"I KNEW you couldn't, you son-of-a-bitch. I KNEW YOU COULDN'T!" Yvonne yelled.

"No, you stupid slut! You wanted other men, so you didn't even bother to try me. If you had, you've have come to a different conclusion. Janice, you look so sweet and inviting. I need some of that pretty pussy."

Holding her arms out toward me, Janice replied, "Come on, honey. It's all yours. I need your cock inside me."

She was glistening with her own juices and guided the head of my throbbing cock into her honey hole. It was only the work of three strokes to bury my entire shaft into her welcoming pussy. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled me to her lips for a long wet kiss, our tongues darting in and out as we savored each other.

Not unexpectedly, Yvonne came screaming at me, her arms flailing. "You bastard! You can't fuck that bitch in my bed. You're giving her what's rightfully mine!"

I grabbed one of her swinging arms before her fist connected with anything. With my cock still buried in Janice's pussy, I yanked Yvonne until I captured her other fist and held them both as I looked angrily at her.

"Listen, whore. This was my bed too. I wasn't the one that brought other people to it. You did. You broke our wedding vows right after you made them. Since you screwed her husband, as long as she is willing I can make love to her in this bed. And what she is getting is NOT yours. You gave up the right to that long ago, even if I did just find out about it. Now leave us alone. Sit there and watch quietly or get out. I don't care."

With that, I gave her a shove, causing her to stagger backwards and sit heavily in a recliner. I turned my attention back to Janice and began kissing her all over.

"I'm sorry about the circumstances," I whispered in her ear. "I really ... really would like to make love to you instead of just ... having sex. You are a special lady to me."

Her arms again wrapped around my neck, she whispered back, "I know, honey. Don't worry about it. Just help me cum, please. I am so horny I really need it."

A few minutes later, she had an intense orgasm, loudly proclaiming my name and how much she loved what I was doing for her. Several minutes later, after some hard thinking to suppress my own climax until the time was right, we both came just seconds apart. I glanced at Yvonne to see her head in her hands, her body wracked with sobs. I felt no remorse for what I had just done.

Giving Janice a hand, we went to the bathroom and showered together, rubbing soap over each other, rinsing it all off, and then kissing all kinds of sensitive spots before the warm water gave out. We climbed out and dried off, then dressed and headed back to the Jorgenson's house, leaving Yvonne still crying in the recliner.

When we arrived, it was late in the afternoon. Janice laid out her plan for me. Since Wayne could be home at any time, we would go up to their bedroom, get undressed and in bed, and wait for him there. When we heard him coming, she wanted me to be inside her ... she thought doggy style with both of us facing the door so we could watch Wayne's reaction would be ideal.

In no particular hurry, we undressed and climbed into the bed. Janice rolled onto her side facing me and it just seemed natural that we would kiss. I felt her big beautiful breasts press into my chest and my semi-erect cock began filling out. When her hands began fondling my balls, the growth took on some urgency.

Having been impressed with her nearly shaven pussy when I first saw it earlier, I wanted to taste her so I eased her over onto her back and kissed my way down her body until I was between her legs, which magically seemed to spread wide open for my attention. Again Janice was glistening wet with her own juices and licking her clean was a gourmet's delight. I spent several minutes just exploring her luscious folds of flesh with my tongue. Janice's moans and muttered words of encouragement were enhanced when her fingers entwined in my hair and held my face pressed into her wet heat. Then when she hissed my name and told me she was coming, a new flood of fresh sweet nectar covered my face

After licking her clean again, I sent my tongue inside her and began exploring from the inside out. Never had I wished so much that my tongue were longer than as I licked the inside of her sweet pussy. Janice began to buck her hips up off the bed to meet my tongue, particularly when I made each excursion to her clit. Then when I sucked her nubbin into my mouth and teased it with my tongue, she exploded again in a yell that nearly burst my eardrums.

Again I set about cleaning her up, wishing Wayne could have seen his wife cumming all over my face. When I could find no more of her sweet tasting liquid to lap up, I pushed her legs up and back, let my tongue cross her dividing line into her anal valley. No sooner did my tongue poke at her tight puckered little anus than she climaxed again, screaming my name even louder than before. She nearly passed out ... or may have for a few seconds.


The Best of The Worst



We heard the garage door open and then close and scrambled into place with Janice on her hands and knees, and me behind her. I guided my cock into her pussy and pressed my pelvis against her lovely round ass. I made a few strokes but kept it slow, knowing that I would shoot my load much too early if I wasn't careful. When we heard the door between the kitchen and garage open and close, Janice began talking to me.

"Yeah, Ray, that feels so good, baby. Fuck my pussy, honey."

"Janice, your pussy feels so good."

"It feels like we were made for each other, Ray. I wonder why we never fucked before today."

"I know. I just love your magnificent ass. And fucking you so I can hold your bottom is a real bonus, Janice. I really love it."

"Sweetie, if you love my ass so much, maybe ... just maybe, I'll have to let you fuck my ass sometime if you want to. Wayne never showed any interest in my butt."

"HEY! What th' hell is going on in here?" Wayne screamed as he came into the room.

Janice looked up at him, still pushing her bottom back on my cock. "Oh, hey, honey. I thought I'd just fuck Ray for a while, since you didn't think it would be a problem if you fucked Yvonne. You know the goose and gander thing."

"WHAT? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes, you do!" she said sternly. "You've been screwing Yvonne for years, haven't you? In fact, you've been screwing anything that spreads it's legs. I know, you lying, cheating son-of-a-bitch. Now I'm just getting some of mine back."

"But ... you ... you can't ..."

"Oh, yes, she can," I avowed. "I mean, you can't take care of your wife's need, you fucking bastard. So I'm giving her some of what she craves. Isn't that right, Janice?"

"That's right, honey. Oh, and Wayne? You might as well pack your bags. You are outta here!" she spat with venom.

Looking back over her shoulder, she said, "Ray, don't mind him. Come on, honey. I need you to fuck me, sugar."

I began stroking in and out of her slick tunnel, running my hands all over her smooth body, reaching under her to knead her swinging tits, finally slipping a finger between her legs to tease her clitoris. It was a wonderfully sweet fuck for both of us and we came just a few moments apart.

As I sat backwards onto the bed, Janice looked down at her legs, making a swipe with her fingers at our combined juices slowly rolling down her thighs. She sat back, between my legs, and rested against my chest, pulling my arms around her to hold her big breasts.

"Mm, baby, that was good," Janice breathed over her shoulder, never taking her eyes off Wayne.

He had stood the whole time at the corner of the bed, his mouth gapping open, staring unbelievingly at us.

After a few minutes, Janice snuggled her butt back into my crotch in an obvious show of affection and said, "Wayne, I meant what I said. You are out of here. You'll be served with divorce papers next week sometime. Let me know where you're staying. But I don't EVEN want to see you after today. Now leave."

He finally closed his mouth and stepped to the closet, where he began extracting his clothes. Fifteen minutes later, he stormed out of the house.

Janice turned to me when the door slammed and said, "Ray, if you don't want to go back home to stay, you would be welcome to stay with me. If you'd like, I wouldn't mind if you stayed in my bed but, if you insist, I'll let you use our guest bed."

Funny ... I didn't shed any tears that night for my lost marriage. Janice consoled me quite nicely.

The following week, I set about gathering information about the other 10 names on the list -- I already knew what I needed about Wayne Jorgenson. It is amazing what you can glean about a person just from the telephone book, a search of the internet, and some audacious digging.

I already knew that the two neighborhood men were both married and had children. All three of the salesmen and the warehouse manager from her office were also married as was the old lover from high school. The last stranger that she met at the supermarket was the most difficult to find but I tracked him down with some effort and determined that he was shacked up with a long-time girlfriend. The two mail clerks from Yvonne's office were both just young kids, right out of high school and both still lived with their parents.

Yvonne was served with the divorce papers on Tuesday and I spent a couple of evenings moving all of my stuff from the house into a storage facility, while Yvonne yelled at me or cried her eyes out, alternately. I kept having to tell the bitch that she didn't have the slightest idea what real love was and reminding her that it was her idea to cheat on me that ended our relationship.

That Friday, I talked to my boss about changing two weeks of my scheduled vacation to begin the following Monday and he agreed, after I told him that I had some personal problems to take care of and either he gave me the time or I'd walk out.

That evening I watched one of the punk mail clerks go into a bar not far from the office and followed him inside. I sat at the bar nursing a single beer while he put away several, passing time with other people from the office. When he got up and headed somewhat unsteadily for the door, I followed, noting that dusk had fallen. 

I caught up with the punk before he got to his car, spun him around and said, "Kid, you ought to be more careful whose wife you stick your dick into, regardless of whatever story she tells you."

My fist caught him in the solar plexus, leaving him gasping for air. By the time I left him laying on the ground, he was pretty well trashed, squirming in a pool of his own vomit.

The other kid went jogging late Saturday afternoon in a sparsely used park. I would never have caught him except for my trusty mountain bike, which made it no contest. Once I caught him on the back side of the trail, I pulled him into the bushes and beat the living shit out of him -- after telling him why.

On Monday at midmorning, I rang the doorbell at the Gordon house, just four houses down from my own. Marcia Gordon opened the door and recognized me from neighborhood events.

"Hi, Marcia. I'm Ray Davis, from down the street. I wanted to talk with you about a private matter, if I may."

"Sure, Ray. Come on in."

She pointed to the living room and, after she took an easy chair, I sat on the sofa. She looked at me expectantly.

"I ... hate to be the bearer of bad news but ..." I sighed loudly, "I've found out recently that my wife, Yvonne, and Roger ... yes, your husband Roger ... have been having sex on a regular basis at my house when I've been away."

Her head dropped to her hands. "No, oh, god, no! I was afraid something was going on."

"Why? What clues did you see?"

"Oh, he'd come home sometimes with that ... peculiar smell ... you know, it's distinctive ... the smell of female ... pussy! But he always tried to tell me it was something else."

"Just so you know, I've filed for a divorce and have moved out of the house. Do you have any idea what you will do?"

"Oh ... I don't ... don't know for sure. Yes, I do! I'm going to kick the bastard out! Shit! I don't know what I'll do. That mother-fucker! Pardon my language."

"That's okay, Marcia. I understand. I'm ashamed that it was my wife that caused this."

"Oh, she couldn't have caused it if he hadn't wanted it to happen. I wonder how many times he screwed that bitch."

"Unfortunately there is no way to know. I'm afraid it was quite a few times, though."

"Why? Why would the bastard do that to me?"

"I don't understand, Marcia. It looks to me like he had a good thing here at home. Why he would risk that for someone like her, I don't understand either."

Suddenly she stood and yanked her dress over her head, throwing it to the floor. Her bra and panties followed and she stood before me naked, with no shame or self-consciousness.

"Look at me, Ray. Be totally objective now. Be honest. Do I not have a good enough body to keep a man interested in me? Am I so repulsive that he'd have to go somewhere else?"

I looked up and down her thirty-something-year-old body, seeing no real flaws and a lot of assets to be loved. "No, you are not repulsive. You are beautiful and sexy and very lovable."

"Oh? Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I really do. No question about it."

She closed the distance between us, leaning over to place her hands on my knees. "Would you like a little measure of revenge, Ray? Would you be interesting in screwing Roger's wife? You know, just to get back at those two a little?"

She took my smile as an answer, tugging at my belt to help me out of my clothes. I lifted my hips and watched her pull my pants and shorts down my leg, watched her lick her lips when she saw my raging hard-on standing up tall and proud.

"Is that for me, Ray? Can I have some of that?"

"Of course it is, sweetie. Help yourself."

She straddled my legs and slowly lowered herself down over my probe, gently easing it into her hot pussy. While she worked herself down my shaft, I captured her tits and held them together, licking first one and then the other. There was a faint scent of gardenia fragrance between her soft globes, satisfying both my sense of taste and smell. My sense of touch was being fulfilled by her bottom slowly wandering up and down and around and around my fulcrum.

Marcia seemed to lose herself in the sensations emanating from our connection, her eyes closed; tongue slowly licking from side to side between her slightly open lips. Just the sight of her face made my cock jump and jerk with anticipation within her velvet channel. I felt the walls of her pussy begin to pulse around me and knew from the big "O" of her mouth that she was experiencing an orgasm ... just before my balls contracted and began spitting my sticky hot cum high into her belly. Marcia collapsed on my chest just as we both were finishing our own personal glory.

Although my cock lost some of its expanding blood, when my hands began to stroke Marcia's broad butt, the deflation slowed, stopped and finally reversed until I was long and hard again. I guess this is one of the reasons I couldn't understand Yvonne's reasoning: I had always been able to get hard again fairly quickly. It might take me a little longer each time to cum again but that didn't keep me from being able to pound a pussy again after the adrenaline burn had passed. Yet she didn't seem to take that into consideration.

I pushed a coffee table out of the way and carefully lowered Marcia to the carpeted floor, never letting my cock come all the way out of her cunt. While I took control and began to fuck her, I smothered her face in kisses. She giggled and started to hump her hips up to meet my thrusts, settling into the same rhythm as me so that we were soon lashing each other rather hard. She began muttering words of encouragement that gradually became louder and more demanding, until she hissed that she was cumming again.

I wasn't close to cumming again myself so I held still and let Marcia enjoy her climax until several moments after it had passed. Then slowly I started working my way in and out of her pussy again, noting the additional lubricant her climax had left in my path. Sitting back on my haunches, I lifted her right leg and slowly began to roll it to my right, gradually changing the angle of my entry. I took several minutes and a number of in-and-out cycles to get to the point where her legs were both extended out to my right side. The ever-changing smile on her face indicated that she liked the changes in sensations caused by the position changes.

I think she was anticipating my next move, because when I wrapped my arms around her hips and lifted her, she tucked her left leg up so that, as I turned her face down, her legs wound up on either side of me in the classic doggy position. My cock, which had almost come out of her slick pussy, drove deeply into her again and again, loving the feeling of being so far inside her and pressing against her big broad bottom which greeted my every thrust like a soft warm pillow. 

For a while I fondled her big swinging boobs but knew the inevitable was right around the corner, so I slipped two fingers between her legs and began to nudge her clit. Still my balls began to shoot spurts of fresh cum into her twat before she was ready. Fortunately it didn't take much though as she seemed to cum right after my hot seed sprayed her walls. We collapsed side by side when our respective climaxes had subsided.

"Well, that's a start on what he did to me. I have to say it was a great start too," Marcia said.

"I agree -- a great start. Thank you."

"I guess, Ray, I'll have to move out. I don't know where I'll go but ... if we ever meet again, you'd be welcome to do it again, if you want to. I won't ever forget."

"Thank you, sweet lady. I will be inclined to take you up on that offer." I leaned over and kissed her.

Late the following morning, I knocked on the door of the Henderson house, another of those in our neighborhood. Merle answered the door. At first she didn't recognize me but when I explained that my name was Ray Davis and reminded her that I lived in the next block, she seemed to remember me. She asked what she could do for me and I told her I wanted to speak to her about a personal matter. She seemed puzzled but reluctantly let me in, offering a seat at her kitchen table and a cup of coffee.

While sipping the coffee, I told her that her husband, Thom, had been screwing my wife, Yvonne, for many months, although I had just learned about it. Merle didn't look shocked nor did she scream out in protest. Instead she hung her head and began to cry. I felt so sorry for her. I tried to console her and finally she let me hug her but the tears rolled for a good ten minutes before she had cried herself out.

Leaning backward, she said, "I should have known. I really should have known."

"How would you have known, Merle?"

"Oh, just look at me. I'm not a beautiful, lovable woman. I've gained a lot of weight over the years and Thom lost interest in me a long time ago. Nobody loves a fat woman." The tears started again.

"Merle, don't. Don't sell yourself short. This is not your fault. It's all about choices that Thom and Yvonne made. They have made a mockery of both of our marriages. But that was their choices, not because of anything you or I did or didn't do."

"I ... I don't ... don't know," she stuttered. "Look at this." She held her arms out wide, indicating her body in general. "I'm just not sexy anymore."

"Merle, you are wrong. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I believe you are still beautiful. You ARE sexy and very desirable. You can't let Thom's choices make you feel any less of the woman than you are."

"But ... I ask you, would you be attracted to a woman like me?"

"Yes. Yes, I would. There is no doubt about it. I certainly would. Would you like me to prove it?"

"How?"

I grinned at her, stood up and offered her my hand. When she took it, I pulled her up and she came into my arms. Our kiss started out chastely but quickly turned into a flaming arrow of desire. I felt her heavy round stomach and abdomen pressed into me. There was no drawing back when she felt my erection poking her stiffly, either.

Over the course of the next three hours, we all but turned each other inside out. Merle was hungry for sexual satisfaction and I tried to give it to her. I lost track of her orgasms while concentrating on three of my own. Before I left, she wrote the name and phone number for her parents on a slip of paper and handed it to me, telling me that I could call there anytime and they would know how to get in touch with her. She said she would make time for my kind of loving anytime I felt like it.

When I left the Henderson's, I went back to the Jorgenson's, where I was staying with Janice since she had thrown Wayne out. I showered and changed clothes and then headed out again. Following directions I had written from my research, I drove to an upscale neighborhood in the northwestern suburbs. I found the street and then the house I was looking for and pulled into the driveway.

This was the residence of Otto and Julia Eppler, a salesman in Yvonne's office. The five-chime doorbell was answered by a very attractive brunette in a summer dress. 

"Yes?" she asked.

"My name is Ray Davis. I'm looking for Mrs. Julia Eppler."

"Yes. That's me."

"Good. Mrs. Eppler, I have a very personal matter to discuss with you. Can we talk in private for a bit?"

"Well," I could see the hesitation in her eyes, since she did not know me. Somewhat reluctantly, her curiosity seemed to get the better of her. "Okay. Please come in."

She opened the door just enough for me to enter, then closed it behind her. She led me to the formal living room, which looked like the furniture had never been used. I sat in a rather uncomfortable chair with wings -- French provincial, I think they call it. Julia sat in a similar chair but at the other end of a sofa, with a heavy looking cherry wood coffee table between us.

"Now, Mr. Davis, what is so personal and important?"

"Mrs. Eppler, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I just recently found out that your husband and my wife, Yvonne, have been ... uh, having sex on a regular basis."

"Oh? What makes you think that?"

"I caught my wife having sex with another man and she admitted to having sex with several men, including your husband."

"Mr. Davis, this is news to me but I can't say that I'm surprised. Nor am I shocked. Otto has been prone to chase anything in skirts since he was a young boy. If your wife works in the same office, then I am sure he has tried to get her into bed. And, for some reason, he is fairly successful in getting women to do whatever he wants. I suppose it is the same reason that he is their most successful salesman."

"So, he has cheated on you before, Mrs. Eppler?"

"Oh, yes. Many times. With many women."

"And you have not left him?" I queried incredulously.

"No, I have not left him, Mr. Davis. I do not approve of his actions. However I do love my husband and I find myself in a position where ... I cannot leave. I would not be able to ... survive if I left him."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Eppler, but I guess I can understand."

"So ... why did you decide to tell me about this, Mr. Davis?"

"Because I didn't think it was right for a person to have sex outside of his marriage without the knowledge of his or her spouse."

"Okay, I understand that. Did you expect to get anything else from it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mrs. Eppler."

"Well, to put it bluntly, Mr. Davis, I was wondering if you expected to have ... intercourse with me as a form of revenge against Otto and your wife."

"Um ... no, I did not have that expectation ... although I will admit that the thought crossed my mind ... more than once."

"Do you ... is it still not a repulsive idea to you, Mr. Davis?"

"No, ma'am, it is not a repulsive idea, but I don't want to push myself on any woman."

"I commend you for that, Mr. Davis. That is gentlemanly, at least. Let me ask ... if you did, do you think it would ease any of the pain you felt when you learned about their ... indiscretion?"

"You know, I really don't know. Yes, perhaps it would ... but I don't know for sure."

"Mr. Davis, it is easy to see that I am several years your senior. Perhaps you would not enjoy having sex with a woman of my age." She paused, leaving the question hanging in the air.

"Mrs. Eppler, I don't believe age makes a woman more or less desirable. Nor do I mean to be impertinent when I say that I find you to be very beautiful and sexy."

"Does that mean that you would ... have intercourse with me if ... I were to be agreeable?"

"Well ... yes, ma'am, it does!" I said with emphasis.




The Best of The Worst



"Then why do we not go to my bedroom and let us see what develops."

Quickly I jumped up, stepped toward her and offered her my hand. Helping her up, I kissed her hand and watched her smile, then followed her up the staircase and into a bedroom. She started to unbutton her dress but my hands stopped her, pulling her to me for a long sensuous kiss. When we broke apart, I turned her around and began kissing her neck and ear while my fingers worked the buttons apart. I wasn't sure she appreciated my actions ... until her bottom began to rub my crotch.

When I laid her dress on a nearby chair and unfastened her front-hook bra, her hands went to her modest sized tits, hiding them from my eyes and hands both. However my kisses seemed to loosen her up. When her hands reached upward to capture my head and hold it to herself, my hands found those B-cup breasts with the hard little nipples and took great pleasure in tweaking them.

Eventually I eased her full cut rayon panties down her legs and fondled her ass. She had a definitive slope from her waist to her hips and although her bottom was not perfectly round, it was still in very sexy shape from my viewpoint. Her abdomen was covered with short curly brown hair -- there were no bikini lines on this woman.

She made no objection when I lifted her and placed her carefully in the center of the bed. I crawled between her legs until my face was even with her pussy, then lowered my face into her treasure. She seemed to love it when I kissed and licked down her thigh and back again and repeated the process on the other leg. By the time I got to her pussy, she was beginning to leak droplets of clear slick fluid. She finally showed some surprise -- that I kept eating her until she had cum twice. By the time I climbed over her form and eased my cock into her, she looked like she would have let me do anything I wanted to her. She made sounds of approval all through our coupling, even when I turned her around and took her from behind.

Afterward, as we lay together, she ran her hands through my hair and held me against her breasts. "Mr. Davis?"

"Please call me Ray."

"Okay. Ray?"

"Yes ... Julia?"

"As I told you, I'm not going to leave my husband or throw him out. However ... if you ever want to ... have sex ... with an older woman, I would ... like to be your partner."

"Julia, I will keep that in mind."

I called it a day after I left the Eppler's house.

A few minutes before eleven the next morning, I rang the bell of the Dorall residence, another upscale house in a fairly new neighborhood. Neil Dorall was another of the salesmen who had fucked Yvonne.

The doorbell was answered by a pretty mid-twentyish blonde. I introduced myself and she said that she was Jeanette Dorall. She invited me to the family room to talk. When I explained why I was there, she was obviously shocked big time. Frankly so was I. I couldn't see how any man could jeopardize a marriage with a woman as beautiful as Jeanette Dorall for a fling with Yvonne. My wife was good looking but on a scale of one to ten, she was a couple of numbers lower than Jeanette.

Jeanette began to cry. I wanted to comfort her but she just waved me away so I sat and watched ... and felt bad. Every so often, she shook her head as if to clear away the cobwebs, but the tears continued. 

A half hour had passed when suddenly the tears stopped and she jumped up from the sofa. Coming around the end of the sofa next to the chair I was sitting in, she yanked the skirt of her dress up, pushed her bikini panties down and spread her legs.

Bending over the arm of the sofa, she looked back at me and demanded, "Come on! Fuck me. We're going to get some revenge on those bastards. Let's go."

I took one look at her bare ass, beautifully shaped, perfectly round, firm looking ... and any protest I might have raised disappeared. I jumped up, unzipping my pants and let them drop to the floor as I snuggled up to her butt, swiping my cock up and down her slit. She wasn't really all that wet but there was enough moisture to let me get started. It took me a number of ever-increasing strokes to bury my full length into her. From there on, it was pure lusty pleasure.

When I reached around to fondle her tits, she unfastened her top and removed it; she wasn't wearing a bra. A few minutes later, we both came. I lifted her up and carried her around to the sofa, depositing her on her back and finally removing her dress to get it out of our way. She put one leg on the back of the sofa and the other foot flat on the floor and the sight of her coaxed my cock back to full length. Settling between her legs, I guided it back into her bare pussy. It was a heavenly feeling, being buried so deep in her warm wetness. I shook my head in wonder that any man would put this in jeopardy.

When I left, Jeanette didn't exactly invite me back but I had the distinct impression she might like to take out a little more "revenge" on her cheating husband.

That afternoon, after cleaning up and taking care of a little financial business, I followed my instructions to another upscale house belonging to Woody and Wendy Wilkerson. He was the third of the salesmen.

The doorbell was answered by a four or five year old munchkin in shorts and a jelly-stained T-shirt. Instead of greeting me, he just stared. When I asked if his mother was at home, he turned around and yelled something that could have been "Mama" but was such a wild screech I couldn't be sure.

Shortly a rather harried but pretty thirty-something woman came to the door. I went through my spiel and she invited me inside, sending the little boy off to play with his sister. When we were alone, I explained why I was there and what information I had. She immediately became angry -- at me. 

"You don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Davis. My husband is a devoted family man and husband. He attends church every week and believes in God. He does not cheat on me. If he did, I would know it. Now I would thank you to get out of my house and never come back."

I left without another word, wondering if Yvonne had lied to me. Curious about the answer to that question, I waited until Yvonne got off work and caught her as she was walking to her car. I repeated what Wendy Wilkerson had said and asked her to tell me the truth. She laughed nervously and said that Wendy just didn't want to recognize the truth. Looking into her eyes, I believed Yvonne was telling the truth. I decided to let the Wilkerson case drop -- at least for now.

Since Janice had asked me to pack some things for her -- we had gotten a nice two-bedroom apartment that we were going to share, since the house would probably be sold, but I hoped one of the bedrooms would be used for temporary storage -- I didn't have any free time until late Friday morning. I got cleaned up and took my written directions and headed to the western suburbs. I found the house belonging to Pierre and Sonja Farha; he was the manager from Yvonne's office that she had been screwing.

The door was answered by an attractive middle aged woman with long brown hair and wearing a bikini, topped with an open white terrycloth robe, leaving most of her body visible. Although she was not a raving beauty, she was very good looking and well-proportioned.

"Hello. My name is Ray Davis. I'm looking for Mrs. Farha," I said.

"Yes. I'm Sonja Farha."

"I have a matter of personal interest I would like to talk with you about in private, Mrs. Farha."

"Can you tell me something of what it is about?"

"Your husband and my wife work at the same office."

"Oh? Come in."

She turned and led me toward the family room. Without another word to me, she sat and waited until I had selected a chair nearby. Then she looked at me expectantly.

"Mrs. Farha, I have reason to believe that your husband and my wife have been having sex regularly for at least the last three years."

"So?"

"So ... do you not care that your husband is sleeping with another woman?"

She laughed, but rather mirthlessly. "Mr. Davis, we have an open marriage. My husband screws whoever he wants to and I do the same. I don't really care who he fucks."

"Oh? Wow! I've never ... uh, encountered that approach."

"It works for us. I don't keep track of the women he goes to bed with and he could care less which men I have sex with."

"I see. Doesn't that ... kind of strain the ... uh, love in the marriage?"

She laughed again. "Who said anything about love? It's just an arrangement. Nobody said there had to be love, did they?"

"No, ma'am, I guess not." I sat back, a little surprised by her attitude.

"Oh! Hey, wait a minute! You came here looking for some revenge, didn't you?"

"No, I ... well, yes, I suppose I did."

"You were hoping that, since Pierre had fucked your wife, you would get me to fuck you ... didn't you?"

A little sheepishly, I replied, "Yes, ma'am, I guess I did."

She jumped up. "So ... you look like a healthy stud. Why not? Come on. Let's go."

She held out a hand and guided me to a first floor bedroom. As she walked into the room, she dropped the robe from her shoulders and pulled two strings on the bikini, letting the little pieces of cloth flutter to the floor. Naked before I could even start on my own clothes, she turned to me and began working on my buttons.

Sonja climbed into the center of the bed, opening her arms and legs for me. Looking at her curvy figure with full breasts, probably C-cups, and nicely rounded buttocks, I had no problem getting an erection. I slipped between her legs and pointed my purple helmet at her neatly shaven pussy. She was barely moist and it took a number of strokes to work my length into her tightness. She seemed to appreciate my usual slow start and returned my kisses with verve and sincerity.

While I spent several minutes licking and sucking her chest mounds, she began humming. Slowly I geared my speed up, trying to tickle her clitoris with every finished cycle. I was still winding out the old motor when she declared that she was cumming; I hoped that she wasn't faking. When she eased down, I resumed my pumping of her pussy, still cranking up the speed and intensity little by little until, a few minutes later, I had reached maximum revs and maximum impact. 

The slurpy, squishy sounds of our mating filled the room -- except for her running commentary about how good she felt and what she wanted to do and that she was getting close to cumming again. That was fortunate because I felt that momentary empty sensation in my testicles that signifies my impending finish and, although I tried to think of offensive odors to repress my orgasm, it was already too late. The sticky white sperm began shooting into Sonja's slick pussy with a vengeance while I held onto her hips for dear life, loving the feeling of emptying my seed into her hot core. I even dreamed that I might be impregnating her.

Perhaps it was the sensation of my fluids flooding her vagina or maybe it was something else but Sonja again averred that she was cumming again. The way she bucked up to meet me and squeezed my cock internally, I had no reason to disbelieve her.

Afterward, we lay side by side for a few minutes, kissing and stroking each other. Then, Sonja moved down the bed and sucked my limp cock into her mouth, licking me clean of our combined juices and then sucking on me for some time until I began to grow hard again.

When I was ready, she turned onto her belly on the bed, slowly pulling her knees up until her pretty ass was raised in the air. I didn't need any invitation to know what was happening; I climbed between her legs and stuck my cock deep up into her twat. Because of the difference in sensations, this had always been my favorite position and being inside Sonja doggy style was certainly no exception. I have to admit that I took a long time with my cock driven to the hilt inside her while my fingertips slowly explored every inch of her soft, smooth body. Her soft murmurs gave me an indication that she liked my approach.

When I finally started stroking her cunt slowly, Sonja reached under a pillow and pulled out a tube of lubricant.

Looking over her shoulder, she asked, "Do you like to fuck ass, honey?"

"Yes," I replied hopefully.

"Here. Get us ready. I like it that way, too."

I smeared K-Y on my cock and then worked it into her anus. I could tell, though, that she was already working on relaxing her tight sphincter, because my fingers easily worked into her and she never gave any indication of pain -- not even when my throbbing cock first pierced her back door.

Once I began cycling in and out of her ass hole, I took it very slowly, savoring the feeling of her still-tight ring of muscle checking every contour of my big veined probe. It seemed like she caressed my cock along every inch of the way, and I imagined her opening adapting to the subtle shape differences as the blue colored veins moved this way or that under the surface of my penis. To say that it was a magnificent feeling is to leave the true story untold!

For a while, as my probe slid in and out of her ass, my hands fondled and massaged and squeezed and pulled at her breasts, tweaking and pulling her nipples. My hands roamed the curves of her back and sides, her hips and buttocks, and then finally two fingers slipped into her crease between her legs. At the time, she also had a hand between her legs fondling my balls, as we both labored to bring the other to another climax. Turned out that we came almost simultaneously, and both of us had delightful finishes.

Laying with her in my arms and occasionally kissing her between gasps as our heart rates slowly returned to normal, I couldn't help but think that, although the sex had been very fantastic, the revenge didn't seem as satisfying as it had with the other women. Maybe it was because Pierre wouldn't have cared if I fucked his wife.

As we were getting dressed again, Sonja said, "Honey, I sense that you might need a lot more of these sessions to get your anger at Pierre out of your system. I wouldn't mind if you call me anytime you're available and we can work on that anger."

She gave me her phone number and I said I would call, although I wasn't really sure I would.

Over the weekend, I decided I would devote some time to the Wilkerson situation and if I could prove or disprove it, then I would decide what to do; otherwise I would just let it drop.

On the Monday of my second week off, I found an observation spot in a public garage across the street from Yvonne's office. I parked there about a half hour before her usually quitting time and made myself comfortable, keeping watch with a pair of binoculars.

About ten minutes after her quitting time, Yvonne came out and walked straight to her car. I followed at some distance but she drove straight home except for a quick stop at a 7-Eleven for a loaf of bread. I parked where I could watch the house but she didn't go out nor did she have any visitors until the lights all went out just after eleven o'clock. I went home a little disappointed.

On Tuesday afternoon, I was again waiting in the public garage when she followed the same pattern, driving directly home with no stops. She didn't go out and did not have any visitors.

On Wednesday, I was beginning to believe she might have given up her lovers. She came out on time, got into her car and ... turned in the opposite direction. I followed her discretely for about two miles, where she turned into a little out-of-the-way motel. I watched from the curb as she pulled down near the end of the long building and parked next to a late model Lexus. I pulled out my digital camera with the telephoto lens and began snapping pictures, including the motel and both cars, making sure I got a clear shot of the Lexus' license plate.

Yvonne got out of the car and walked to the door of a unit, where she seemed to give a coded knock: rap, pause, rap, rap, rap, pause, rap. The door swung wide open and she was enveloped in the arms of some guy I had never seen. I got several pictures of them before he pulled her inside and the door closed. There were several with his face and a couple with them kissing. I thought I just might have found the elusive Mr. Wilkerson.

Settling back in my car, I resumed reading a book I had brought along to help me pass the time. As it turned out, it was a good 90 minutes later that the motel room door was jerked open and the man hurried out, giving Yvonne a quick kiss as he still fumbled with the zipper of his pants. That should make some good pictures, I thought. He jumped into the Lexus, leaving Yvonne still putting her stuff together while he sped away.

I followed him, again trying hard to keep from being seen. He made no signs of noticing that he was being followed, making a bee-line about as straight as he could to the Wilkersons' house. I chuckled and headed for home. Along the way, I stopped at a WalMart and inserted my camera media card into one of their photo machines. After making two sets of 4 x 6s and one of 8 x 10s of their little rendezvous, I finished the drive home, thinking about a possible use of the pictures.

After greeting Janice with a hug and a kiss, I sat down at the computer and wrote a short letter.

Dear Mrs. Wendy Wilkerson,

Note the attached pictures were taken today. The meeting time and the departure time were almost exactly one hour 30 minutes apart. Do you wonder what they were discussing in that little room, where the only furniture is a bed?

Do you know what kind of church espouses the use of this kind of missionary position? Can you believe that they were talking about work? Why would his pants zipper have been opened?

Should you choose to ignore this evidence of infidelity, that is your prerogative. At least you will KNOW that he is not loyal to you.

Respectfully, Ray Davis

I printed the letter, attached it to the top of the 8 x 10s, put it all in a large manilla envelop addressed to Wendy and then put it aside for the night. I would mail it -- or deliver it -- the next day.

Janice prepared me leftovers for dinner, fortunately not asking me too many painful questions about my findings. I told her briefly what had happened and let it go at that. There was a long awkward silence after that. Janice suggested we take our coffee to the living room and talk for a while.

After another silence, Janice said, "Look, Ray, let's get some things out on the table between us, okay? I want you to know that I think I love you. I would like for us to see if we are compatible enough to build a life together. Maybe have a family."

"But right now, no matter what you think you feel, I think you still have too much anger inside of you about what Yvonne did to you to be ready to settle down."

"Janice, I think ..."

"No, please don't interrupt, Ray. Let me get this said and then we can talk. I don't think you realize just how much you are hurting yet. To find out that the one and only woman that you had loved had cheated on you for all those years ... well, it is only natural to harbor some real anger at her.

"If you and I had met several years ago and started dating, I would have said that if you went out with other women, especially if there was anything sexual involved, you and I could not have gotten along and we would have split up. Now we find ourselves in a little different situation. You have had sex with ... what, seven women, none of them your wife ... within the last two weeks or so, all out of revenge for what she did. 

"I don't fault you for that. In fact I think it is probably helping you get rid of some of your anger. But I think you have a long way to go to get rid of that anger before you are ready to think about moving on with another relationship. When you get there, I'd like to think it might be with me, although maybe things will change and you'll find someone else. In the meantime, I think you need to spend a lot more time with those women exacting your revenge on their husbands. Do you understand what I'm saying?"