49 comments/ 97485 views/ 15 favorites Webcam Revenge By: fireballxl5 Warning: I think most people like this story except for its ending, which absolutely outraged quite a few people. There is no justice in this story, although there is the possibility of justice in a sequel. I love sex. I love looking at sexy women. I married a sexy woman. I look at pictures of sexy women. Somewhere along the line, I don't know when, all those sexy women on the internet made me forget about the real thing I have at home. I think it was basically bad timing; shift work takes its toll. It can make you a little bit crazy. This is a story about how my young wife taught me a lesson, and about how I came to realize the value of the real thing. I'm a fool, but I can be taught. I didn't really think anything of it when Margie told me she was taking the digital camera and all the equipment to work. She told me that she wanted to show the wireless infrared feature to one of the bosses, who was thinking of buying one. She even told me I could watch. It would show up on our web page at about noon, during her lunch hour. You see, this is a really nice digital camera that allows you to download medium resolution movies in real time through an infrared device that plugs into a USB port. It's like an ordinary webcam except that it uses a data compression scheme to produce a really high-quality image in real time over a high speed connection. Just put the camera on "video", pick a menu item, and voila! Living color on your computer screen. You can even stream the compressed output onto the net to any number of people, which is how Margie was sharing it with me. I've been working 3-midnight at the local utility plant, so I'm used to being alone at home that time of day. In fact, I'm usually on the computer at about that time, looking at and downloading X-rated pictures. I kept telling myself that it was just part of my normal hormones, part of the normal male quest for some "strange", but it was so easy to find these sites that I developed a wooden, mindless habit of beating off every day while looking at the computer screen. I don't think I even enjoyed it that much; it was just another habit. At the same time, my healthy sex drive started to dry up and I started to neglect my beautiful, sexy little wife. I assumed she didn't know about my private activity, when in fact (I realize now) she was getting more and more frustrated and a little pissed off. Anyway, there I sat watching an empty window on my computer when it crackled to life. "...and then it shows up on your screen. See?" It was Margie, leaning over a keyboard. The camera must have been in about the position of the screen, because I could see her face looking intently at something just above the lens of the camera. I could also see beyond her to a grey-haired man, about 50. I vaguely remembered seeing him at the Christmas party -- thin, athletic, and professional looking. One of the upper mid-level bosses, I guess, just high enough to merit an office of his own, and maybe to share the use of the support staff to perform his filing and other mundane tasks. The support staff included Margie. "That's fantastic!" he said. "I'll take one." But he wasn't looking at the screen. He had leaned slightly back, and was looking whimsically at Margie's ass, bent over in front of him. "I saw that." she smirked. "You forget. The camera sees behind me." He seemed genuinely abashed. "Oh. Sorry." "It's OK." She paused a moment, considering. Then she added in a sweet voice, "I've seen the way you look at me. Can I be honest with you?" He nodded. Margie took a deep breath. "I kinda like it. Sometimes it gets me a bit excited. And when I'm in the right mood, I start to get a little worked up. Feeling your eyes on me... it makes me want to show you more." There was a moment of silence while this sank in. "Like now." There was a long moment of silence as this hung in the air. Then, with a catch in her voice, she added, "Would you like to see a little more, Mr. Grindy? Right now?" Margie had moved away from the computer and was out of the camera's view, which remained pointed directly at Mr. Grindy. Mr. Grindy looked off camera, swallowed, and said, "Yes... Yes, of course. And call me Bill." "Let me show you one other thing first, Bill. Take the mouse and go to the 'File' menu. Now, pick 'Capture'. Make up a file name. As long as the little red dot on the menu bar is on, whatever you record will be stored in an mpeg file. Now take the camera." There was some fumbling and jerking around, and then the camera found Margie. The camera autofocused on her. "Take the camera away from your face and look at the computer screen. You can point the camera by watching there. Isn't that more natural?" The camera jerked amateurishly while Bill found his grip, and then became steady. Margie was leaning against one of his filing cabinets on the other side of Bill's desk. She was wearing a tight, ribbed white top and tight black pants that fit her like a miracle below the waist. The ribbing of the top hugged her skin and outlined the contours of her grapefruit-sized breasts, which stood out from her exceptionally thin waist. She ate healthily and kept herself in shape. Margie continued. In a kind voice, almost as if talking to a child, she said, "I can tell when you're watching me, you know. When I walk by, or when I file. Did anyone ever tell you, you have a very nice smile?" She brought her hands up to her head and bunched her long tresses on top of her head in a pose, smiling gently herself. I realized what a startlingly beautiful woman my wife was. She was as beautiful as any woman on a magazine cover. And about as far away, right now. She continued, "You know, some women are attracted to older men." Margie's pose brought her large breasts forward and up. She twisted, left to right to left, so that they could be appreciated in three dimensions. At the same time, I observed that Bill had found the zoom button, and had zoomed in on the breasts. He must have felt safe, since Margie could no longer see the computer screen from her location. I could see the outline of her bra under the top. I could see the location and size of her swelling nipples. "I think I'll check to make sure these files are in order," she said, sounding playful. She turned to face the opposite direction, opened the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, and bent over at the waist. This gave a delightful view of Margie's ass in her tight black pants. I realized that this scene had played out before, as part of Margie's normal duties. That Bill had seen it before, that Margie knew he had seen it, and that neither had ever mentioned it before. Margie was now offering Bill the opportunity to enjoy this treat anytime he wanted, on video. This went on for a minute or two, with Margie going around the office posing in various office-duty poses, smoothing herself with her palms and making various bent-over poses, a bit self-consciously. She never looked at the camera, playing a part in a movie. Still without looking at the camera, she said, "I know you look at me when I do this. I like it when you do." As this whole scene had started to play out, I was shocked and angry. What was my woman doing, letting another man think lustful thoughts about her, strutting around for his personal amusement? What did she mean she enjoyed it? That old dude? Did that mean that she thought about going further? But then, sitting there in front of the computer, I realized that I was looking at something I had thrown away. By failing to appreciate Margie myself, I had effectively given her over to the rest of the world to appreciate. Now, looking through another man's "eyes", I could see all the things that had originally turned me on about her. And actually quite a bit more. I actually started to get pretty turned on myself. My heart was pounding and my face was flushed, but it wasn't anger anymore. I started getting lustful for my little wife in a way that X-rated pictures of anonymous women could never do. I became so caught up in the instant that I even stopped thinking about this 50-year-old dude. I hoped that she would maybe go just a bit further. Margie straightened, and looked back at the camera. "I'm going to shut the door." she said, and did so. She turned around and came back over to the desk, scooting her butt up onto the corner. She toyed with the bottom edge of her top. "It's warm in here. Would you mind if I take off my top?" She waited for an answer, but she didn't really need to ask. Bill must have nodded. Margie brought her hands to her waist and hooked the fingers of both hands under the edge of the white-ribbed top. Then she slowly brought the fabric up across the hardened plane of her stomach, stretched it to bring it over the swell of her breasts, and released it there so that she could work on pulling off the sleeves. Bill and I could see that she was wearing her lacy red bra, one that I had forgotten she owned. It was cut low enough that it showed her breasts to good effect. They gently swelled above the top of the fabric, and formed an inviting valley of smooth skin between that plunged into darkness. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing in the now silent room. After a moment's pause, collecting courage, she pulled the top over her head and casually tossed it to the side. Margie was visibly aroused, and managed to say, somewhat hoarsely, "No touching. OK? You like to look, and I like to show you, but I haven't forgotten that I'm married." And she winked at the camera. I gulped. Despite the liberties that she was taking with this man, a stranger to me, there was still an intimacy between us. He didn't know that I was watching it all. That was a special little secret for Margie and me alone. Margie sat for a long moment while Bill only watched. Then she lightly hefted her breasts, frowning, "Do you like these? Would you like to see how they look without the bra?" Again, the answer from Bill was inaudible. "Would you undo me?" she asked, turning to face the other way. The camera landed jarringly on the desk and focused on a stack of papers for a moment. Then it came up again, to show Margie, with the broad expanse of her back filling the camera, as she shucked her bra and then brought her hands up, arms crossed, to cover her breasts. My goodness, even her back was gorgeous! By the trace of definition in the back, it was obvious that she worked out. Then Margie gracefully turned to face the camera, still covering her breasts with her hands. She smiled, and said in a teasing voice, "I don't know if a married woman should be showing her breasts to another man. Maybe I should just keep them covered. It feels good to touch them though. I'm going to touch them now. Is that OK?" All the while she was slowly manipulating her breasts with her hands, gently rotating and squeezing them in front of the camera. Never completely uncovering them. She brushed her unseen nipples with her palms. She sometimes lifted her hands away, but never showed her full breast to the camera. Never let her nipples show. You could tell the exact weight and size of them. You could see how they rose and fell and bobbled. It was incredibly stimulating. How I wished that those hands were mine! Removing her bra must have been the big step for her, because she began to regain her composure. She smiled at Bill and coaxed, "Say something. Tell me what you want." Bill coughed, and whispered, "I want to see them. Show them to me. I mean, please. Please show them to me. I'll die if you don't let me see them." Margie only smiled. She started to rotate her palms against the breasts so they rubbed over her nipples and hummed "Mmmm. Maybe I should show them to you. My nipples are getting so hard!" She rotated her hands in larger and larger circles until at last the complete breast was visible. She squeezed them, hefted them, pushed them together. At the same time, she bent forward toward Bill. I imagined that she must be mere inches from his face. Her nipples thrust upward, stiff and hard. "Take a good look, Bill. I wish that you could suck on them. In my mind I can feel you sucking on them right now. I wish you could run your hands over them and play with them. Just thinking about it makes me all wet. Would you like to see how wet you make me, Bill? Do you want me to take off my pants? Do you want to see a married woman's panties? All moist? Moist because of you, Bill?" These weren't serious questions, because she had already unzipped the pants, and was sinuously peeling the pants down as she spoke. She pulled the pants apart at the zipper, showing her low-cut red satin panties, lacy. Then she began to peel, turning this way and that so Bill could appreciate all the views of this sensuous act. For a moment the pants caught on her panties and a few wisps of pubic hair peeked out from the top; then they snapped back. The pants continued to writhe down, first over the swell of her butt, and then down in front. The lips of her vagina were clearly outlined in red satin, which appeared very moist. The camera zoomed in on the vagina lips. Wonder of a camera, it automatically went into macro mode, so that I could almost smell Margie's rich aroma. She swung her hips back and forth as if dancing. She undulated. The camera zoomed back to show my topless wife finally kicking off her pants, squaring her legs, hands on hips, wiggling her breasts, and smiling at the camera. "Do you see what you do to me, Bill? Do you see how awful and wet and horny I get when you look at me the way you do? Do you know what I'm thinking about when I get like this, Bill? Show it to me. Show me what I want to see. Don't make me come get it. We're not supposed to touch. I'm a married woman. I can't just be feeling up some guy's dick in his office. You have to do it for me, Bill." Once again, the camera was placed on the desk. But this time, Bill, turned it around to face himself. Clever Margie. By letting Bill know that he was recording, she insured that he would be careful to record everything. He pushed his chair back from the desk, so that I could see him in profile sitting in his chair. I could see my almost naked wife only two feet away from him. She knelt as he undid his belt, as he unzipped his pants, and, no strip teaser, pulled pants and boxer shorts to the ground in a single movement. Margie knelt on the floor before him and sat back on her haunches where she could inspect his hardness at eye level. She leaned forward so close that he could surely feel her warm breath on it. "Oh, it's beautiful." she groaned. "I wish that I could touch it. I'll bet it feels good to rub up and down. Could you do that for me, Bill? Could you rub it up and down and pretend it's me doing it? Pretend it's my boobs rubbing against your big old hard cock?" And with this, she squeezed her own boobs. Bill was transported. He began to stroke slowly up and down. Margie smiled through half-lidded eyes, satisfied with this progress. In time with Bill's movements, she rubbed her hands up and down between and over her breasts. She milked them in time to Bill's own milking, only inches away. Her mouth hung open, and she sounded drugged. "I have something else to show you, Bill. You liked it when I leaned over your desk earlier, remember? I want to lean over your desk again." She swept away a pile of papers, moved the keyboard out of the way, and positioned herself between Bill and his desk, facing the desk. "I need to take my panties off. You'd better get the camera. You only need one hand to hold it." Bill took the camera, and focused on the pantied behind of my wife. Meanwhile she stood straight, hands at her sides, and bent at the waist. This left her lying with her belly on the desk facing away from Bill and the camera, with her arms lying uselessly along her side and her hands relaxed on either side of her buns. In this position, she could touch the waistband of the panties behind her back, inches from the camera, and I suppose, inches from Bill's face. Bill was doing his best to capture the complete picture with the camera, lifting it and holding it to either side. "I'm going to pull them down, now. Are you ready?" And Margie hooked her thumbs under the waistband and peeled slowly downward in this degrading and exposed position, sliding the smooth silk over her flawless white globes centimeter by centimeter. First the crack became visible, captured so flawlessly by this remarkable camera that you could almost feel the downy fuzz. Then the wide "V" of the crack. Then the anus, pink, wrinkled and clean. Margie is a woman with slender legs set far enough apart on her hips that you can see between them even when her knees are touching. So when the panties descended low enough, Bill and I had a clear view of Margie's twin lips, moist and warm-looking, shadowed in the dark cave between her legs and the top of her panties. She held that pose for a few moments under Bill's inspecting eye, with her panties clutching her upper thigh as far as her wrists could bend around the edge of the desk. "I don't think I can get them any farther," she teased. "You'll have to help." And she wiggled her hips, slowly waving her buttocks from side to side. Bill's hand came onto the screen. The one with which he had been stroking himself. It gently smoothed first one and then the other of the two upturned cheeks. The cheeks that filled the screen. Then it rubbed up and down the crack. Margie's animal voice husked, "I can't see. You're not touching me are you? We agreed that we wouldn't touch." Bill whispered, "No. I'm not touching you. We agreed." The bastard. "Keep going!" I silently urged him, caught up in the moment. "For God's sake, keep going!" "OK. Then it's alright." Margie croaked. She had begun rotating her hips down and up, involuntarily pushing against Bill's warm hand. Bill slowly pulled the panties down one-handedly, as if unveiling a great work of art. When they were low enough, he ran his hand between Margie's legs, up and down the inside of her thighs, eliciting a gasp, and then a whimper. He swept the panties to the ground and the woman quickly kicked them off and stepped outward with each leg, widening the gap, making her hungry pussy available for whatever this man wanted. I saw Bill's hand brush the very top inside of Margie's thighs, back and forth a couple of times, then saw it rub Margie's engorged lips, touching lightly along the edge with the fingertips, and then saw his thumb disappear between those lips. A gasp and a cry escaped Margie's lips. "Oh my God!" she groaned. "Oh my God!" She started panting hoarsely. Bill began gently squeezing his hand and pushing, two seconds to a stroke, applying light contact to the clitoris with his knuckles rhythmically as he slid slightly in and out of the vaginal opening with his thumb. This only went on for a few seconds, and then there was something like a scuffle and Margie jumped away. "Oh my God, I can't stand it. That's so gooood, Bill. But I'm a married woman. We agreed! And I think..." she gasped a moment, "...I think you were about to touch me." Margie continued panting. "We'd better just look at each other. Let me show you what I do when I get like this." Margie went over to the bag that she had used to bring the camera equipment, rummaged around in it frantically, and trotted back with a white plastic object. She pulled a wooden office chair with arms up to face Bill, flopped down in a slouch, and lifted one leg over an arm of the chair. Her pussy was wide and moist and totally exposed. Her breasts rocked, and parted. I recognized the object as a dildo Margie owned. This dildo was a strange thing. It was long and rather thin, made to resemble a stretched out penis with balls and all, but much thinner than most real ones, and smooth, like porcelain. I had always imagined it was some sort of learner's model for young girls who hadn't quite stretched out to a woman's dimensions. I thought Margie kept it in her nightstand as sort of a souvenir of her childhood. I didn't dream that she actually still used it. What a dope I am. Webcam Revenge Ricochet - FTDS ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Dealing With A Cheating Wife - my ending to fireballxl5's series Webcam Revenge http://www.literotica.com/s/webcam-revenge fireballxl5's own resolution of the story was distasteful to me. The woman had gone from teasing anger to a complete whore. The author admits the ending is outrageous, and suggested he might write a sequel, back in March of '05. He hasn't posted since '06. Another abandoned story. In my version of the ending, the husband, whose one fault seems to have been viewing smut online (who here hasn't?) is exposed to his wife cheating on him, through a direct video feed, which he records. Her last action, after cheating, was to insult him and tell him it was his last warning. No problem, no further warnings would be need. He knows what she is now. There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed. If I find a story that's been left hanging for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps. Reconciliation isn't ruled out, but usually it takes some pretty serious work to fix things. If you'd like to see my rationale for selecting what you continue, please read my profile. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Grindy. Bill Grindy. My wife had just fucked Bill Grindy, one of her bosses, and told me it was a warning. If that was a warning, I'd hate to see her idea of revenge! I thought it only fair that I give her a warning of my own. Starting with that bastard who had the audacity to fuck my wife. Grindy is not a common name. There was exactly one Grindy in the phone book, a William Grindy. I did a quick search on LinkedIn, and found a William Grindy who worked for my wife's company. Excellent. I called in to work, and told them I was taking the day off. It was after 1:00 pm, and my wife would be home by 5:30 pm. I didn't have much time. A call to Mrs. Grindy, had her curious enough to pay me a visit. The man on the video was 50ish, gray-haired, not bad shape. I never would have expected the mid-thirties trophy wife that showed up at my door. "I hope I'm not wasting my time," she snapped churlishly. "I'll let you judge that," I told her. "Can I offer you a drink?" "This is not a social call, Mr..." "Jack, please call me Jack, Mrs. Grindy." "Diane," she said, turning so I could take her coat. I hung it up, and invited her to the living room. "So what is this 'emergency'?" she sneered. I pressed play on the remote and started the video. I had queued it up to where he first started touching her, denying he was doing it, while his fingers penetrated her. I heard Diane's gasp. "That's my husband! The cheating bastard!" "And it's my wife," I explained. By the time he was shoving the dildo up my wife's cheating pussy, the bastard's wife was crying. "Why?" The man on the screen came explosively. The slut on the video turned and took his cock in her mouth, sucking him dry. "Jack, do you think I could have that drink?" my guest asked. I got up and walked to the bar. "What would you like?" "Something strong." A pint sized long-island iced tea should fit the bill. Eight ounces of white rum, vodka, tequila, and gin, two each. Some triple sec, fill with sour mix, and a splash of cola to finish it. She had asked for strong... I handed her the drink, and sat beside her. Diane's husband was going down on my wife, like his life depended on it. Margie gave every indication she was enjoying it. "The lousy bastard. Always wants me to blow him, but never returns the favor. Except with that slut." She blushed. "I...I'm sorry..." "No problem, Diane. I think your analysis is quite accurate. I was quite disturbed to learn my wife was a cheating slut today." "You seem so calm." Her hands were shaking with anger as she took a long drink from her glass. "I've had a little time to get over it, and I've seen this already. The first time was a real shock, I assure you." On the screen, Margie had a huge orgasm, and the bastard turned her around, continuing to suckle her pussy. "I'm gonna kill the mother-fucker," Diane growled, taking another deep drink from her glass. "Pretty good," she said to me, waving the drink. She looked back at the debauchery on the screen. "Does it get worse?" "For us, yes. They didn't appear to think so." Sure enough, her husband stood and stuck his wrinkled old dick inside my wife. Diane turned to me. "What are you going to do?" "I'm not sure yet. I believe this is her first time. She may believe she has just cause." "You cheated on her?" "I downloaded pictures of naked women over the internet." "That's her cause? You looked at pictures, so she becomes a slut for my low-life husband?" "I think you've summed it up quite nicely. Not quite proportional, in my opinion." She had almost finished her drink, and I was a little concerned. It was a lot of booze for a 5'2" beauty who maybe weighed 120 lbs. "The lousy bastard. I'm gonna take him to the cleaners. We're so done. I'll put up with a lot, but this is ridiculous. I wonder how many other office sluts he's banging?" She gave me another quick glance. "No offense." "None taken, I'm sure. It's difficult to deny the obvious. She's a slut. A cheating slut. If he's willing to fuck one, who knows what he'll do?" We watched my wife screaming for Diane's husband. "Fuck me!" she cried. Moments later they came together. We watched the screen as my wife glared into the camera. "This is your only warning, asshole." "Hell of a warning. Has she talked about your issues?" "No. This was the first I heard of it." "God. What a bitch!" She turned to me. "Are you going to fuck me now? Is that the plan? A revenge fuck?" I shook my head. "No, that's not the plan. I'm not happy with your husband, as you might imagine. I still haven't decided what to do with my wife. We have no children, and our home is rented. It's very tempting to kick her to the curb, and move on. I just thought it fair that you know what he was doing. I'd want to know." Diane, seemed to have other ideas. She started unbuttoning her blouse. "Are you sure a revenge fuck isn't part of the plan?" She removed her blouse, and I felt myself hardening. Damn, she was a beautiful woman. A few years older than me, but those years had treated her well. "Do I sense you wavering, Jack? Don't you think I deserve at least as much as my husband received?" She had her bra off, by the time she finished speaking. Hers were amazing tits. Simply amazing. "I...I believe that might be fair." She grinned. "Do you have a video camera?" "I do." "Perfect, would you be so kind to take me to your bedroom, sir? I believe you and I have some important personal business to attend to." A few minutes later, I placed her on her back, and climbed between her legs. She was obviously excited by the idea of her revenge. I started slowly, teasing her, nibbling, playing with my first new pussy in years. As pretty as any picture I'd downloaded. She knew what she wanted, and told me when she felt the urge. I licked, I sucked, I fingered, I probed. I ate that sweet pussy for all I was worth, making her scream for me. That made me smile. He made my wife scream, and I'd done the same. That was just the start of my payback. She was very appreciative, pushing me back on the bed, and sucking my cock without any prelude. She took me in her hot mouth, and proved to me her husband was an idiot. If going down on her, which was a treat in itself, yielded these results, I'd be eating at the Y every day. She was great. Too good, really. "Gonna come," I groaned. She only sucked me harder, until I flooded her mouth. She was an incredibly considerate fellatrix, swallowing, cleaning me, treating me carefully while I was still tender, making love to my cock, until she'd renewed my hardness. I didn't have much choice about what came next, as she mounted me and rode to an orgasm. Satisfied that I'd done my part, I took over, pounding her from behind, to another screaming climax. The woman was hot as a sunspot. I flipped her over and took her from above, until I lost the last semblance of control, and erupted inside of her. I lay beside her, quite happy with the aftermath of my wife's cheating. "All even?" I asked. "Hell no. Just getting a second wind. You're not going to let me down are you?" "I'll do my best not to. I might need a few minutes," I explained. "Maybe I could help." She did, moving back down between my legs, using her mouth again, patiently, lovingly until I was hard enough to play some more. She climbed back on top, this time taking it easier, riding me, rocking back and forth slowly, taking my entire length. "Your wife is an ass. My damn husband is good for maybe, maybe one a night." "I hate her cheating, but she's not the only one to blame," I admitted. "I have been derelict in my duties as a husband." "Were you cheating too?" "No. At least not until now." "Then how?" "Just not paying her enough attention, mostly. Our love life had grown pretty boring." "Hard to believe, lover. I'm having a hell of a time. You got any lube?" I nodded toward the bed-stand. She opened the drawer, and found what she was looking for. I was shocked when she started lubing up her own rear-entry. "Bastard's been begging for this for years. Looks like this is your luck day, Jack." Diane was being thorough, inserting a couple of fingers in her ass, and greasing them up thoroughly. She applied a liberal helping to my cock, before getting on her knees. She suddenly seemed nervous. "Gentle, please. It's my first time." It wasn't as difficult as I'd expected. I managed to push into her opening, and then, little by little, I worked my way in. She was groaning, and grunting, but kept encouraging me. "All of it Jack. I want all of it. Fuck my virgin ass." She convinced me, and I fucked her pretty thoroughly. She was rubbing herself, and if not excited, at least she wasn't complaining. "Fuck, that's big back there," she moaned. I was in no hurry to finish, and she was willing enough, so I stretched it out as long as I could. Laid her down on her belly, a couple of pillows underneath her hips, and gave her a good hard hammering. I liked that. A lot, it turns out, and after only a few more minutes, I delivered the goods. I lay with her, holding her in my arms. "He's a fool, Diane. You are beautiful, and an animal in bed. What the hell is wrong with him?" She seemed sad, kissing me tenderly. "I don't know, Jack. I honestly don't know. I thought I was a good wife. I guess you never know." "If things don't work out between me and Margie, perhaps I could see you again?" I asked. "Do you always eat pussy that well?" she teased. "I like to believe so. I certainly try to." "Mmm. Yes, I believe I would like to see you again. Whether things work out for you and your wife or not." I offered her a shower, which she declined. "No, I think this is exactly how I want to be when I confront him. You will supply me with a copy of the video?" I took the SD card from the video camera and she followed me to the study, where I made a copy for her on USB. "The DVD in the player is yours." She stood on tip-toe to kiss me. "Such a gentleman. She's a fool, you know." "I have my faults." "Don't we all?" I walked her to the door, her DVD and USB in her purse. I put her coat on her, and accepted a very warm and passionate kiss in the doorway. She smiled, brushing her fingers through my hair. "I'll need a few days to get everything in order. I'll call you." "Looking forward to it, Diane," I called out standing in the doorway, naked. Margie passed her on the way into the house. "Jack?" Perfect timing. "Good evening, Margie." She stood slack-jawed, and then turned and watched the beautiful and elegant Diane get into her BMW. "Who was that?" "I believe that was the soon to be ex-Mrs. Bill Grindy." "Oh my God," she gasped. "You didn't..." I turned to the table, and placed a stack of pictures of naked men in her hand. "I've heeded your warning. We're now even." "Even?" she squeaked, looking down at my lower body, the fluids of my time with Diane caked within my pubic hair, the evidence of enjoying her anal passage still present on my cock. "Do you want a divorce, Margie? Is that why you decided to cheat on me? I can't think of any other reason to have sex with another man, and to flaunt it as you did." "I...I got carried away. You must know that. I never intended it to go that far. It's your fault you know..." "No, I don't know. If you had a problem with me, I believe a discussion might have been in order. Not full-fledged adultery. I'll ask you one more time. Do you want a divorce? I'll help you carry your bags to your car, if you do. Perhaps your lover will take you in, since it's likely he'll soon be single." I saw the tears in her eyes. "No, Jack. I don't want a divorce. That wasn't what this was all about." "Are you certain? I've spoken with my lawyer. He believes the video evidence of your affair is quite damaging. Adultery, and mental cruelty, are both quite satisfactory reasons to divorce. At least satisfactory for me." "You spoke with a lawyer?" "The first thing I did after calling Diane," I explained. "Diane?" "Mrs. Grindy." Margie blushed. "You know I'll lose my job over this," she said softly. "I doubt that. I'm sure there are other mid-level managers who would love the availability of a resident slut. You may even get a raise. As a matter of fact, once word gets around, I'm quite certain, you'll produce a significant number of 'raises'." She walked past me, sitting on the couch. "Could I have a drink, Jack?" I prepared my second Long-Island Iced Tea of the afternoon, and handed it to her. "Can we talk, please?" she asked. I shrugged. "Do you even want to? Apparently you had no interest in 'talking' before you decided on delivering your warning to me." "Please, Jack?" I sat down, and she turned away. "Does my nudity bother you, Margie. I wouldn't think that would be a problem. We are still married, and it's not like mine's the first naked body you've seen today." "He wasn't naked, and it's not your nudity, it's the evidence of your time with Bill's wife." "I'd prefer you don't refer to your lover by his first name in front of me. I'm not very happy with him at the moment." She nodded. I retreated, cleaned up the evidence on my dick, and came back out wearing a robe. "Satisfactory?" "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean for it to go that far. It was the only time I've been unfaithful. I got carried away, and I'm ashamed and sorry." That's what I needed to hear. I put my arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for the apology. That means a lot to me. It doesn't erase the image of you with him, but it helps." "I was hurt, to find out you were looking at pictures of naked women. You weren't paying attention to me. I was very angry. I never thought..." "I know. Our schedules are bad for us. We barely see each other during the week. I wake up and you're gone, and don't see you until we get in bed together. By then I'm exhausted, and you were often non-receptive to my attention, having to wake so early. It got to the point where I stopped trying. It's a problem." "I agree. We spend so much time apart, when we are together, I need your attention, your affection. We're only making love once every couple of weeks. I was starting to wonder if there was another woman, when I found out what you were doing." She leaned against me. "I was hurt and furious. You didn't want to be with me, just your stupid pictures. Big tits. You love big tits, don't you? Mine aren't good enough. Big tits like...like hers." I chuckled. "Not so much. I love yours, Margie. I always have. It's just that many of the 'models' have big tits, and I'm not that picky, I love looking at beautiful naked women, of all sorts. I was always at home, alone, lonely. I would wake up frustrated. I didn't think of how it might affect you, I just looked at the pictures. I understand that's not fair to you." "What happens now?" she asked. "Why didn't you talk to me? Why the show?" She sighed. "I thought I was being clever. Showing you what I knew what you were doing. I was going to let you see me naked. That was all. I swear." "Please don't lie to me. If that was all, you wouldn't have needed the old bastard would you?" She blushed red. "I...I wanted you to see that other men still found me attractive." "That was all? You had a dildo with you Margie. A fucking dildo," I snapped. The first time I'd shown how cross I was with her. She flinched at my words. "I thought maybe, maybe I'd put on a show for both of you. I didn't mean to do anything more than that. A little show." "You think that fucking yourself with a dildo in front of your married boss was a suitable way of communicating with me? You couldn't just talk?" "You did similar," she whined. "I saw her, Jack. Don't try to pretend you're any better." "Did you? Did you see her? See me going down on her? Did you watch while she sucked my cock? When I pounded her to orgasm after orgasm, were you watching? Did you have a great view of my taking her virgin ass, making her scream?" I glared at her. "Or did I do any of that?" "I know you did something," she snapped. "And I know exactly what you did. You invited me to watch your adulterous affair. You didn't seem very upset with your 'slip' as you call it. Quite the contrary. Your final words made it quite clear you intended all of it. My warning?" "Maybe that was going too far. It was meant as a warning, but I told you, I didn't intend for it to go that far." "And I never intended anything to happen with Diane. I invited her over to let her know that we both had adulterous spouses, and to give her a copy of your little display." "God, no. Please tell me you didn't." "Of course I did. He deserves it. He fucked my wife. He ate her pussy and made her scream. The asshole came in her cheating mouth. I wanted revenge. She wanted revenge. I was a convenient method for her. I intended to talk to you about your whorish performance, but realized you preferred less talk. Your communication choice was quite evident. I thought I'd respond in kind, so you'd understand." "Can we put this behind us? We both made bad choices today. I'll confess, I did it first, and perhaps drove you to yours. I didn't think it through, I guess." "You destroyed one marriage, and perhaps a second one. I hope your lover enjoyed his time with you. It cost him dearly." "Please don't, Jack. I feel terrible enough. How do we get past this?" I opened my robe. "First, you convince me that you prefer me over your new lover." She nodded. "Then?" "Then, I do the same, and we agree to talk in the future, before doing stupid things like you did today. If you have an issue with me, we talk about it. No stupid games, no petty revenge." "And if we do this, and agree, no more talk about divorce? I don't want that, baby. I love you. I know you love me." "Of course I do. Otherwise your bags would have been outside waiting for your return. Tonight we resolve our issues, and tomorrow we start over, without the adultery. I don't mind being married to the slut I saw today, as long as she's my slut, and mine only." She reached into my lap, gripping my half-hard cock, firmly but gently. "You're dirty," she said softly. "And you're a slut. An adulteress. A common office whore, fucking the boss. I saw how you were with him. You loved it. You came on his tongue, on his cock. You screamed through your orgasms. You begged him to fuck you. I saw everything, Margie. You made sure of that. It's going to be very difficult for you to convince me that you prefer me to your new lover." Webcam Revenge Ricochet - FTDS She stopped arguing, and lowered her face onto my cock. Her mouth slowly embraced me, and in spite of the activity my pants-partner had engaged in that day, including three times with Diane, he came to life, swelling in her mouth. She was slow and cautious. Perhaps it was distaste or concern, I don't know. "I'm not feeling it Margie. You leaped on that bastard's cock. Inhaled it, sucked on it like a baby with a pacifier. This is all I get? Your message is coming though loud and clear. You're his slut, and a barely repentant cheating wife." She started taking her clothing off, her mouth glued to my cock, moving between my legs. Watching her try to do both at once was entertaining. I knew after my previous activities, I was in no danger of coming anytime soon. When she was fully naked, she attacked my cock, forcing it down her throat, grabbing my ass, claiming me. I grabbed her hair, and used her, as she'd used him. I fucked her face, as I never had before. She looked up at me, her eyes staring, watering, gasping every time I freed her. "Prove it to me," I growled. "Choose." She stood, and grabbed my hand. Dragged me through our bedroom, and into the shower. She washed me, and got on her knees, sucking me to an aching hardness. I took her head between my hands, and availed myself of her eager mouth once more. She pulled away gasping, and took the shower-massage head and held it between her legs. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out, Jack. You'll have no doubt who I prefer. I got off on having you watch me. I did. The idea that you had to see everything was mind-boggling. I insisted on his filming me come. It drove me crazy. It was wrong, but it was also for you. He was a tool." She scrubbed her pussy, looking up at me. "I won't disrespect you by giving you sloppy seconds. I'll wash every last bit of evidence of my foolishness off of me, and then I'm going to show you." Margie was quite convincing. When I held her in my arms afterward, our sweaty hot bodies pressed together, I told her as much. "I guess I was wrong. It seems that maybe you do prefer me." She giggled. "Maybe? Jesus, Jack, you fucked my brains out. How much more can I show you." "The same tomorrow?" She wiggled against me. "We'll talk in the future? Both of us?" "I promise, if you will." "Done. Did you really do all those things to that woman?" "You'll never know. I'm not the exhibitionist slut you are, dear." "I could taste her on you." "Did you like it?" "Not at first. It was kind of disgusting. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know where that cock was last. But after a bit, I could smell it, her, in your hair. It was...interesting." "Something sure got you worked up, before the shower." She poked me. "Was she good?" "She's not you. Not by a long-shot. But she feels happier about herself, and her failed marriage. It was the least I could do, since my loving spouse destroyed hers." She was quiet. "I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking. You didn't have to bring them into it, you know." "You're wrong. I'm not the kind of man who lets someone else fuck their wife without repercussions. It was that or put a bullet in his head." "I am sorry." "Me too." "We're better now?" "Better. It'll take time to get over all of it. It's why I'll never show you the video she made for her husband. I'll never get the images out of my head of your whorish display, and wouldn't wish that on you. It's a horrible thing." "I understand. I love you. I hope you'll forgive me for messing up. I've already forgiven you." "You're forgiven, but you understand, there can't be another time, right?" "Of course. Never again, I swear." I held her close. She'd never see the video. But I do love looking at naked women. I suspected I'd watch it a time or two in the future. Then again, I was planning on making my own film with my Margie. I think that will help as well, to get me through the lonely afternoons. Epilogue: Five years down the road, and Margie's pregnant with our second child. A change in work shift made things much better between us, as did her moving to a new company. She got a quiet little settlement to leave, when Diane threatened to sue the company in the middle of her bitter divorce. We talk. Too much, sometimes, I think, but I never want to be put in that situation again. Most of the time, talk is good. My wife is a wild thing, the first several months she's pregnant. We've just entered the second trimester, and she's an animal. Not that I'm complaining. I love it, and I love her, although I was pretty angry for a while. Whenever I got too pissed, I thought about my day with Diane. Margie is weird about one thing. She wants to see the video. She started harping on me during her last pregnancy, then dropped it. Now she's at it again, worse than ever. I told her I'd never do that to her, but she's adamant. I even found her searching through my stuff. It's hidden and encrypted, so I'm pretty sure it's safe. I'm unfair, she whines, since I got to see her in action, like that's something I ever wanted to happen. I'm thinking about making a few 'clips' from it. Something to appease her. Maybe just the part where we go down on each other. That's pretty hot. And not too bad. I wouldn't do it, but she's threatening to hunt down Diane and get a copy from her. She's a stubborn thing, once she makes up her mind. She's given me a deadline. She wants to see it before five years have passed since the incident. I'm thinking, on the 5 year anniversary, less than a month from now, a nice dinner out, a baby-sitter, and a private showing. Just the first time I came. I think that'll hold her off for a while. If it works, maybe I'll give her the cowgirl, doggy and missionary that led to my second coming, for the 10 year anniversary. Then again, if she gets pregnant again, she'll probably start hounding me for more. I don't think I'll ever let her see any more than that. Especially since it was the last one, and we all know where my cock was last, before I had her convince me that she preferred being with me. I doubt even 15 years down the road, I'd survive that one. I think three kids is enough. At least I hope so. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Webcam Revenge Margie poised the object at the opening of her vagina, the fingertips of her other hand gently brushing and rubbing her clitoris. She breathed heavily as she looked at Bill. Through half-lidded eyes, she said, "This is you." and began to slide the object into her vagina. At this initial penetration she gasped and threw her head back. As it receded inch by inch, she groaned; then hoarsely croaked "Yes!" At full penetration, she allowed her mouth to gape open. She lifted her other foot onto the seat of the chair spreading her legs obscenely as if for a pelvic exam. She used one hand to probe her own depths with the dildo while the other widened her slit and rubbed lightly over the region of her clitoris with her fingertips. She proceeded with this, beginning to squeak at the same tempo, and slowly picked up speed. Her eyes, which had been rolled back, came to focus on Bill, half lidded, and her mouth sagged open in a look of stupid ecstasy. Soon she was thrusting the dildo deep within, and began using the muscles of her legs to bounce up and down on the dildo. This made her breasts bob provocatively with their diamond-hard nipples and puckered aureolae, as she kept time gasping "Ah, ah, ah, ah...". I could tell that Bill was very close. It appeared from various clues that he was kneeling in front of Margie, holding the camera with one hand while he serviced himself with the other. This was confirmed when the camera shifted down and I could see his hand stroking his dick, about six inches from Margie's pussy. Then four inches. Then two inches. He pointed himself up over her belly, and I imagined he could feel her heat in his balls. Meanwhile, Margie worked on herself with almost a look of pain, loving this. Loving her own feelings and loving her effect on this man. Her mouth was open and her face looked yearning as she bounced. The camera showed as with one hand, she covered Bill's hand with her own, stroking his cock in time with her own passionate movements, the two hands touching and moving as one. There was a rapid movement on screen as the camera shook, and a blob of white cum smacked into Margie's cheek. Another splashed up onto her breast. She jumped forward and in a movement plunged her mouth over Bill's spasming organ. Bill dropped the camera, which fortunately came to rest where I could see the scene at a bizarre angle. Bill's hand clenched her hair as she gripped his butt, inhaling his organ, and sucking and bobbing and sucking for what seemed to be minutes, until Bill stilled and at last fell back into his chair facing her. They sat and panted. Bill broke the silence first. "I thought you said..." but she shushed him. Bill reflected a moment, and added, "You know, if all I did was touch that thing," pointing at the dildo, "it wouldn't really be touching you." Margie was flushed, and could only nod enthusiastically. Bill set the camera down on the desk again, facing the wall. Damn! Then I heard Margie, pleading, "The camera. Get the picture. I want you to make me cum. I want a picture of me cumming. Pleeease make me cum, Bill. Pleeease!" She sounded desperate. Bill perched the camera so it showed the scene in profile. Bill knelt between Margie's legs. She, meanwhile, had once again flopped her legs over the arms of the chair exposing herself widely. Bill inspected the white plastic tool smiling, and then, looking into Margie's eyes, began to slowly slide it into her opening. As he did this, she threw her head back again, closing her eyes and opening her mouth in a silent scream. Bill slid the dildo in and out slowly, but soon surreptitiously replaced the item with his finger. His face lowered so that she could feel his breath on her swollen mons, and then he lowered his tongue to brush lightly over her engorged clitoris. Margie groaned and clutched Bill's gray hair with her right hand. At first I thought she might shove him abruptly away, but, bringing her heels up onto the seat of the chair, she lifted herself, suspended only by her shoulders and her heels, and rammed Bill's face into her overwrought pussy. Bill was equal to the task, and brought his hands into play, using the skill of an older man to pleasure her entire body, rubbing up and down her sides, over her breasts, tweaking the nipples, rubbing the insides of her thighs, and kneading Margie's ass as he forced his tongue in and out and in and out of her swollen vagina. Margie was in ecstasy and froze as her first orgasm thundered through. "Aaaaah..." was all she could say. Bill showed her no mercy, continuing up and down with his tongue over Margie's vagina, squeezing her butt cheeks tightly, forcing his face into her wide vagina as he milked another thunderous orgasm from my sexually frustrated wife. Then in an instant he lifted her. Turned her around so that she was bent over the chair standing with her ass in the air, supporting herself by the shoulders on the arms of the chair. In her state, she was powerless to resist if she had wanted to. Then Bill really went to work. He stroked her legs and ass as he continued to minister to her with his mouth from behind. Then he stood and rubbed his once again erect member up and down the wide-stretched valley of her ass. Margie brought her knees up onto the seat of the chair, ass pointed out into the room, lowering herself to the perfect height, and Bill rammed his hardness home into my gorgeous wife, now completely out of her mind with animal passion, oblivious now of husband, camera, job, or anything human. She hungered for hot semen with the primal passion of an animal, with the lust of propagating the species, in the most basic rite of all living creatures since time immemorial. She pushed back against Bill, spreading herself wide using her hands. She slapped her ass obscenely against him as he rammed into her over and over again. Her hanging breasts swung back and forth with his thrusts. "Fuck me!" she cried, not caring that she might be heard through the office door. "Fuck me!" They came together. Bill grasped the inside of Margie's hips and pulled her back into him as he pushed his dick as deep into her as physics would allow. She accepted this gratefully, and pushed herself back with equal force, savoring the pumping of Bill's balls, aglow with the primordial satisfaction of perpetuating the species, of completing the one act at which all living creatures must succeed. For a timeless moment they were not even human, yet completely human. I came with them too, the last of several times I had pumped myself off during this spectacle. Through half-lidded eyes, I was aware of the ending to this strange movie, one that I would watch many times, for I had been recording it too. My naked, flushed, sweaty wife stumbled over, picked up the camera and looked soberly into the lens. "This is your only warning, asshole." she said, and switched it off. Note at end: I warned you. In defense of the ending, I have known some women who were a bit like this. No matter what they did, they felt justified in the end somehow because they could say "You made me do it". The only other people who behave this way are men. I am working on a sequel about what happens when Jill gets home to her husband.