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Don't Get Mad

By: pakled



Where is she? Bob wondered, for the hundredth time that night. He perched, bored and dejected in front of his computer, idly going through porn sites, occasionally typing one-handed, but just taking up time. Someone had once found that married men masturbated more than single ones did, but that didn't make it any the less lonely.

His wife, Jennifer, was out at her bridge club (who plays bridge in the 21st Century? What's next, whist?), loading up on gossip, which was unfortunate, but they seemed to be playing a lot more of it lately. He ran his fingers through his business-cut hair, blue eyes starting to water from hours of waiting. Why someone would start playing several days a week, instead of just one, didn't make much sense.

And the amount of time it took her seemed to be longer and longer, until he questioned her story. If it hadn't been an all-woman quartet, he might have worried. But no, Jennifer was faithful to him, always had been. She even told him so, from time to time. Still, after all this time, he wondered if he was lying to himself. What if she's cheating? Why would she do it? Why did she always shower right after coming in, was bridge a contact sport? The evidence was adding up, and he smelled a rat.

Looking at the clock, he realized it was 11:30 and both of them had an early day tomorrow. The one thing that made it worth waiting for was when she got home, she usually wanted to drag him upstairs and jump his bones. That was fun, but lately it was kinkier. She'd taken to deep-throating him with more and more ease, and even letting him try anal. The tight, hot hole she presented him with took a lot of the frustration out, but still something empty had replaced the normal sex...

Grumbling, he understood what it was. She'd let him in her pussy, but only to lube him up for the other hole. He tried to remember the last time he'd come inside her, and realized he couldn't. It had been months. Most married men would have been ecstatic to have nightly blowjobs, and their spouses swallow the load, but like a missing tooth, the lack of regular sex seemed to be nagging at him. What one can't have one is wanted the most.

He sighed, going back to his porn parade, when the phone rang. Looking at caller ID, he saw that it was Michael, his college roomie and co-worker.

"'Lo," he said, trying to fake a cheerfulness he didn't feel. 

"Bob, you going to be home for a while?" it was Rachel, Mike's wife. That was odd. Rachel didn't like him much, and only because she and Jennifer were friends did they interact at all.

"I'm waiting for Jennifer to get home from bridge." 

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and he looked at the Smartphone, puzzled.

"Listen, I'll explain everything when I arrive."

"Something wrong?" he asked, straightening in his seat.

"I'll explain. And don't worry about Jennifer. I'll explain everything.." He looked down at the phone, but the signal was already gone.

That was strange, he thought. He fastened his pants, partial erection already fading, and went downstairs. Mike and Rachael lived about five minutes' drive away, so she'd be at the house soon. He did some preliminary cleaning, policing up the leftover TV dinner and beer, and had the recliner back up to vertical when he heard a car in the driveway. He opened the door, and saw Rachael already out of the car, and heading towards the house.

She was dressed in some sort of thick coat, nothing showing underneath, and her shapely legs were marching on fuck-me-pumps as she looked at him. She slammed her car door with excessive force, looking mad enough to spit nails.

"Close the door behind me," she commanded, as she breezed past him, heels clicking on the entryway tiles. Mutely, he did so, as she turned, standing in the living room, legs apart, looking angry and...He wasn't sure.

"So where's Jennifer?" she asked accusingly.

"She's at her bridge club."

Rolling her eyes, Rachael collapsed onto the couch, and started to cry. "No, she's not, Bob, she never was." 

"What do you mean?" 

From out of her purse, the distraught woman pulled a DVD case, and thrust it at him like a dagger. "Play that on the computer. I'll be here."

The mystery deepened. "Rachael, what's wrong?" 

"Just play the fucking movie. You'll know," she said, tears in her eyes making her mascara run. This was serious. He took the proffered disk, and went back upstairs. Behind him, he could hear her crying. He felt like trying to comfort her, but she just waved him away. He turned and marched up the stairs, as if he climbed a scaffold. Maybe he was.

In a few seconds, he had the disk in, and found it a self-executable, so a full-screen movie appeared. It was a hotel room, unfamiliar, seedy, but empty. A beep and a time code appeared across the top, and started to count. The screen flickered, and the time changed.

The door opened, and he saw Mike enter the room...Jennifer behind him? The image quality wasn't all that good, but damn, a man knew his wife.

She closed the door with her ass, hungrily looked at him. "C'mere," she said, "I want it." She sank to her knees slowly as he came forward, undoing his belt, kicking his shoes off-camera. His pants fell to the floor, his shirt hanging (thankfully) over his now-exposed ass.

As the distance closed, he saw Jennifer turn towards his crotch, licking her lips, her hands rising to take him. What the fuck was she doing?

"Gimmie that monster cock," she begged, as he chuckled. She directed him to take his shirt off, and he stood naked before her, as she opened her blouse and threw it away from her like it was on fire. Clad only in her bra and panties, she arched her breasts towards him. 

"Take it off of me," she said, and he reached down and parted the clasp expertly in back, exposing her B-cup breasts, tweaking the nipples as she opened her mouth, moaning softly. From the distance between them, he saw Mikes asscheeks clench as she made a slurping sound, and her head bobbed back and forth. That was something he'd need mental floss to remove from his memory.

There wasn't much to see from the angle, but from the length that she was moving, she had to be taking him deep into her throat, moaning as she moved against it, the room filling with the slick sound of her saliva coating his thick shaft, moving in and out past her lips. Her hands were busy stroking the thick hardness, and he saw her having to move higher and higher as his obvious erection strained upward. Slurps and 'pops' of the suction being broken made it obvious what she was doing, and how it affecting Mike as well. 

She played with herself with the one hand, and he watched dumbfounded as he saw her rubbing under her panties, frantically working on her spreading legs. I can't watch this, he told himself, yet he couldn't move. She was on fire, filled with a lust he remembered from their honeymoon and now nearly absent from their shared bedroom. 

She pulled away from him, a loud 'smock' sounding in the room as his cock left her sucking mouth. She stood up. "C'mon, lover, I need this," she growled, taking his cock and pulling him towards the bed.

"Don't you get enough at home?" Mike chided her lightly. 

"Meh. He's only average, and I want exceptional," she shrugged. "Don't tease me." 

"Fuck!" Bob mouthed, shocked and hurt. Average? Seven inches is average? He looked down, and found himself hard as a rock. Someone's fucking my wife, and I'm getting a boner!?

And then he turned around, and he saw what she was working on. Mike was...hung. His cock wasn't even at full hardness, yet it had to be, oh..a foot? And thick. Waves of jealousy consumed him as he saw her slide a pillow under her ass, and pull him down on top of her. Wait, why a pillow?

Mike positioned the head between the glistening lips of her pussy, and pushed forward. A long, low sigh came from Jennifer, her head shaking back and forth as she wrapped her legs around his ass and shoved him ever deeper. "Ah, fuck yeah," she said, "It's so much better..."

Better? Than what? Bob whispered to the screen. I try, I do. He found himself shaking; with rage, but with something else. The clip continued.

From the length Mike was traveling, up and down, she took him, all of him, without a murmur of anything but lust. "Oh gawd, so good, so big, so big," she kept repeating. The bed shook as she egged him on, thrusting her own hips to get every precious inch of him. Her moans and his harsh breathing got louder and louder, as the bedpost smacked into the wall repeatedly, shaking the ugly generic painting above it.

Why? Why is she doing this to me? 

"Fuck harder!" she yelled, "Come in me, come inside me...I want it, I need it, Mike" She grabbed his ass with both hands, trying to speed him. Bob could see her nails cutting into the pliant flesh. That's going to smart in the morning, he thought. Asshole, he amended.

"I'm gonna come in you, Jen, I'm going to fill you with my cum. I love bareback," he said, and something more intimate that the sound didn't catch.

"Yeah, get me pregnant! I want your baby Mike, yours, yours!" she shouted out, grinning as she thrust her lips against him. Jaws opened, and they were dueling tongues against each other, as they pulled closer. 

Please, no, no. Bob stared slack-jawed as he saw his wife totally repudiated him completely.. He slumped against the desk chair as they sped up even more.

"I'm coming!" Mike shouted, as she grabbed his back, pulling him against her hard nipples, which disappeared under his sweating body. 

Fuck, don't come, stop it now! Bob thought helplessly, though he could see the action happening in front of him. She yelled, "I'm coming again!" while she grabbed his ass, holding him in place. He roared like a bull, shaking, and it was too late, Bob knew..

They came to a stop, frozen on the screen, and began laughing at each other. Later, he would have to admit that it was the laughter that broke the final straw, casting him loose from his former life.

The time index jumped, and he saw them sitting, naked, against each other. Jennifer stroked him, trying to get him up again.

"So you weren't kidding," Mike said..

"I told you, I get what I want. Bob's fertile, but ever since I saw this," she gave it a loving squeeze, "I wanted you to be my baby-daddy."

"You're pregnant." 

She nodded.

"It's mine," he added. 

She nodded again. "I had to pull some fast ones with hubby to make sure. He's about the size for anal and blow jobs, but this, this fucker is mine."

Mike snorted. "And he doesn't suspect?"

She laughed. "He thinks I'm playing bridge with the girls. When all these years we've been playing 'hide the salami' instead." They both laughed, as she leaned over and kissed the head of his stiffening member.

Years!?

She looked at him seriously. "And what do we do about Rachael?" Mike grimaced, but sighed as her mouth opened and licked along his shaft.

"Tricky, she's a paralegal, so the divorce is going to be a bitch. If you want me for my money, you can kiss that goodbye."

"And he can," said a voice behind him. Bob jerked in his seat, turning to see Rachael behind him. Bob turned off the screen, and stood. He felt embarrassed, with someone watching the intimate scene.

"The rest of that looks like it concerns you, I shouldn't watch it." He looked at her; wounded, angry, and aroused.

Rachael made a cursory look at his own cock, tenting out from his slacks, and nodded. "About what I thought. How do you feel?"

He tilted his head, wondering what she meant. "Mostly...angry. hurt, and a little..." he blushed for a second.

"Aroused?" Rachael unbuttoned the coat. "You feel like you played by the rules. You think 'I'm a pretty good lover;' you've never had any complaints. And someone who loved you, you thought, dismisses you like a used napkin."

He nodded, coming closer. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I just want to fuck her brains out now, show her I can..."

"And you can't, because she's already with my...with him," she spat. "I know we haven't gotten along that well over the years. I thought you're a nice guy, a little clueless about the slut wife, but mostly harmless." 

"Rachael, that's..." he stopped. "No, right, she is a slut. I don't know where I went wrong." He motioned towards the door to the office room. "You want anything?"

"Yeah, Bob, I do. Please sit down," she said, pointing towards the couch behind him.

They sat, looking at each other. He could understand how she felt, he did.. She reached behind her, and undid the barrette holding her hair, and he watched it tumble down her back. She was a beautiful woman, kissable lips, captivating eyes (though now they read more like 'take no captives.') She started undoing the buttons, and when she let it drop to the floor, she was wearing...well, she wasn't. It was all Rachel; hiding nothing. His jaw must have hit the floor, though he couldn't tell. Like any red-blooded man, he took stock of the sight in front of him.

Her fake breasts, a hefty D-cup if not more stood proudly outwards, and he looked at them before looking back into her eyes. He'd spent years looking at the outline of them, at parties, visits, wherever the two couples were together. And now, they were, squeezably protruding in front of him, nipples already erect. Her bush was trimmed, and he could see the shiny, pouted lips that said she was ready. The sensible part of his brain that told him to tell her to cover up shut down, leaving him speechless.

"Bob, I feel hurt and angry as well and also turned on as hell. Mike was everything I wanted in a man, and he was...gifted, shall we say. I never could take him down my throat like she does, and anal? He'd rupture me. But, I gave him everything. And he pissed it away."

After a second, he discovered his mouth and brain worked after all. It must be the rush of blood to his cock that stunned him. That, and the fantastic body before him. Trying to compose himself, he breathed out slowly. She sat down opposite him, naked and ready.

"I can see. And all this time I trusted her...I thought she was happy.. And the sex was...well, getting kinky, but now I see why."

Rachael leaned forward, elbows on her knees, looking into the distance. "She just wanted a big dick, and kids. All the other things that make a marriage, she could care less."

"I know, you're right." 

He found himself mirroring her position, looking over at her. "So what do we do?"

"We?" Rachael smiled. "Funny how fast it becomes 'we'. Well, I," she exclaimed, "am divorcing his punk ass, and yes, he won't have two nickels to rub together, as grandma used to say, by the time I'm done with him." She leaned back, pushing the discarded coat to the floor.

If there had ever been a mystery about what her body looked like under all the outfits he'd seen her were, it was gone now. The tits shouted to him to suck and fondle them, to have his way with her. She turned to him, putting a hand on his thigh, and licked her lips.

"Bob, you ever have a 'grudge fuck'?" she said, rubbing her taut nipples in front of him. He tried to get his mouth to close, but it just hung like some fly catcher.

"I...now that you mention it," he responded, "no, but I think I could learn." He felt his rod grow even harder, and she spared an appraising eye to see the result of her exposure. 

"But Rachel, this is kind of a 'two wrongs don't make a right.' How does this make us any better?"

"I need a man tonight. I need to feel a man inside me, one I can trust. I need to know that I've still 'got it'. I'm offering myself to you; I know you're as worked up as I am. Don't you want to take me? To have me, my husband had your wife? Don't you feel like revenge? Don't worry about it, let's fuck."

"Why Miss Rachael, such language!"

"Bob, please. This is as much about you as it is me." She spread her legs, revealing herself completely to him. "Not going to turn down free pussy, are you?"

"I..." 

She smiled evilly. "You know why I'm letting you do this?"

"Revenge?"

"Not enough to divorce his ass; if he's going to cheat on us, I'm going to cheat on him. Whatever happens tonight, I'll always be able to throw this back in her face, even his. I know I'm desirable, I know men want me, but tonight, I want proof. Please don't turn me down."

He looked at her, shaking with a dozen different emotions. She moved closer, and put a knowing hand on his crotch, rubbing up and down...

"I need to know, Bob." she pleaded. This is wrong, he thought. I'm a married man, and Jennifer...and Jennifer had rejected him. She'd shot him down, dismissed him, ridiculed him. Was Rachel right? Did he 'still have it?' You fucked my wife, Mike. Now I'm going to fuck yours.

"Ok, Rachel, sure." Standing over her, he started to undo his trousers, though she brushed his hands aside, and pulled the belt away, undoing the snap and zipper, and hiking them down to his ankles, before he could even help. Stepping out of them, he saw her recline on the couch, legs spread, motioning him closer.

He slid over the top of her, trying to get in position. She grabbed his cock, and guided him.

"I haven't even kissed you," he chided, as she shook her head. 

"Maybe later, Bob, I'm past that. I want it hard, fast, and relentless. Show me what you can do with this cock, and I'll show you what I can do with my cunt."

He plunged in, feeling himself easily slide in . Of course, Mike had been screwing her for years, so she was stretched out and distended from that thick slab. Still, he felt her clamping down, trying to find the hardness. She moved under him, teasing his shaft, rocking her hips in a rhythm as old as the species, impaling herself on him, pulling him.

"Uh..." she started, and felt him slide to the balls."I can do this," she said, more to herself than him. She rotated her hips against him, touching all of her insides against the rigid shaft. She experimented against him, trying on a new man, attempting to discover what buttons to push, what would spur him to give her the hard fucking she was demanding. She made a long, low groan against him.

"Not bad," she murmured, "yeah...just like that." 

Bob started pumping into her, watching her face as she closed her eyes. "Fuck that's good," he whispered, as she nodded.

"Yeah. Does it feel good?" 

"Yeah."

"You think I'm a good fuck?" she challenged him.

"Yeah, great," he sighed. He started to up the pace, feeling harder and thicker already. She rocked under him, looking up into his eyes.

"I, I felt like he didn't want me," she panted, "I am a great fuck, I gave myself to him totally, and he ignored it. At least you're paying attention."

She squeezed him again, using her muscles to tightly grip him . "Feel that?"

"Oh, yes," he said, slamming a couple of times into her, bouncing off her clit, changing the angle to touch the smooth, liquid walls of her pussy. She sighed as she felt him touching the right places, making her tingle with pleasure.

"Hey, suck on my tits," she offered, thrusting her back upwards to give him better access. Who could turn down an offer like that? Bob leaned forward, tonguing her hardening nipples, causing her to squirm with delight.

"Yeah, just like that. Damn, that feels good, "she moaned, as he grabbed a breast, firmly squeezing it ."That's it, yesss..." she hissed, as she felt herself being overcome with a tenseness that signaled her orgasm getting closer.

Bob felt the round; heavy globes in front of him bobble back and forth, hypnotizing him as he fucked harder.

"Oh, keep that up, I'm getting closer," she whined in his ear, as she thrilled to the constant plunging of his cock. "I'm gonna...oh, fuck..."

Bob started fucking in earnest, quickly and firmly slamming his thighs into her, as she started to shake. "Yes, yes, yes!" she shouted as she started to succumb to the overpowering waves of ecstasy that seized her body in a storm of bliss, her eyes closed, her body spasming as she felt him start to expand.


Don't Get Mad



"Yeah, fuck it, come in me!" she begged, focused on his eyes, feeling his balls drawn close with a heavy load of semen, ready to rocket out the end of his body, and into her waiting womb.

"Wait, I didn't use protection..." he started, getting ready to climax. 

She shook her head, "don't worry." Well, that was different. Jen never really used protection, due to an allergy to latex, and never had a good time with the pill. The remark about 'bareback' burned in Bob's memory, thinking of all the times he'd had to pull out, even wait days before she'd let him...what the fuck! The hottest piece of ass, the best sex he'd had in months, and he was woolgathering...getting closer, and closer...

"Here it comes!" he said. They kissed, her tongue entwined in his, thrilling to the hot jets of sperm starting to fill her. She threw her head back, lost in the throes of her climax.

"I can feel it!" she said, "I can feel it." She threw her legs around him, holding him still, as more and more of his seed coated her insides. "Oh fuck that's good." Roaring out, pushing his cock as far as it would go, holding it, feeling a strange sort of triumph, taking his own revenge against his former friend.

"Gaaaaa!" he shouted out, his balls releasing the final spurts deep inside her. Sweat from his forehead shone in tandem with her own, as they came to a halt, gasping for breath. They looked at each other, realizing what they'd done. Bob rose above her, looking down.

"This is crazy," he said, "I shouldn't have..."

She grabbed his head, focusing his eyes on her. "Why not? Why the fuck not? You listened to me, paid attention, tried to get me off. Know how long it's been since I had that?" She dropped her head back on the side of the couch. Continuing on, she waved a hand in the air.

"Bob, Mike has a wonderful cock, but he doesn't really have any imagination. Yeah, when we first started dating, the size alone was enough to get me off, but if that had been all a marriage needed, it never would have lasted." She tilted her head, looking back.

"Over the years, he fucks like clockwork; you could set your watch by him. He thought size was all that mattered. I don't know what he's been like with Jennifer, but some variation, some imagination, something to mix it up. Did you have that problem with her?"

Moving out of her, causing a temporary pout from Rachel, he grabbed a blanket from the top edge of the couch, and covered the both of them, causing her to smile.

"I don't know. It's been different lately, but that was all a ruse to get pregnant by...Mike." He reached down to touch her face. "That's like the ultimate betrayal, to refuse to have a man's children. I mean cheating; I could possibly forgive, if she was sincere about her mistake. But skipping off to have his children...what if I wanted children? Would I have been such a bad father?"

She looked at him, as if weighing a decision. "I don't think so; I think you'd be a good father. I thought Mike would, but now, I..." she faded to silence.

He leaned up, regarding her. "And now I may never have children. It looks like they're going to leave us. I don't know what to do." He let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm not sure of anything now. I'm not even sure what we did was a good idea..."

She turned to face him, watching his eyes intently. "Maybe not. But Bob," she cuddled closer to him, putting her head on his thigh, "I guess I was selfish. I don't know how it is for guys, but something shouting 'what if it's me?' What if I'm not...desirable?"

"No, you're right. Though it's more obvious in my case. I'm not ashamed of what I have, but I thought it was enough. And I just felt I had something to prove." He stroked her hair as she closed her eyes. "Rachel, you are desirable. I've lusted after those tits for years, envying Mike having something like that."

She frowned, turning to look up at him. "I know. Believe me; I got enough of that from Jennifer. She was jealous too, even wanted to make herself bigger up top, just to wave them around. The things she'd say..."

Looking down at her, his eyes widened. "How long have you known, I mean, about them?"

Hissing, she rolled her eyes. "I've known for about a week. I suspected a few months ago. Remember her sick aunt?"

"Doris? Yeah, she went to take care of her...or did she?" He had to think for a minute. "She called me from her aunt's, I've even spoke to her on the phone. Haven't met her..." He went limp for a second. "Shit, it's like a funhouse mirror; you have to reinterpret everything that happened."

"Yeah, the first three-way. Doris is younger than us; Jen swings both ways."

"The fuck she..." he stopped, angrily. "How do you know all this?"

"Like any affair, Bob," she said, sitting up, "oh, carefully at first, covering tracks, cleaning inboxes and credit card stubs. About a month ago, I put a PI on the trail. Mike is a creature of habit; they always used the same hotel, and always the same room."

"So they wired the room for video, and that's what we just saw. I hope you have the copies in a safe place." He got up, grabbing for his pants. "I'm hungry. Want something?"

"I'm good, but help yourself. Can I help?" 

Nodding, they dressed and headed for the kitchen. Starting a sandwich, he looked over at his ex-friends' wife. She sat at the table, wringing her hands. He fixed an extra anyway, and put it down in front of her.

"Thanks Bob. You know, Mike would never make me anything. We need to talk."

"To whom? You and me, Mike? Jennifer?"

"To you, first. We can't reveal what happened tonight, so I'm sure you know enough to keep quiet about this." Seeing his expression, she leaned forward.

"I'm planning a divorce. Fuck, I never thought I'd hear myself say that. I thought she loved me." He slumped down across the table from her, chewing as he considered his next move. She started up again.

"I'm not surprised. Jennifer made this big deal to me about this mysterious lover of hers, about how big he was, and how rough he was, and I never caught on at first. When I heard things that sounded like Mike, I just thought it was something that all guys do. 

"Over time, I started to suspect, and saw what a conniving bitch she was. She shared her experiences with my husband, and pretending it was someone else. And how she held you in contempt, because you weren't big enough anymore."

He choked for a second, and swallowed drily. "She never complained before. I thought this 'size issue' was something men made up, and it wasn't all that important to women."

She grinned, and looked back. "It isn't a deal-breaker, for most women, just a special bonus. I mean if the guy's a dick, most women wouldn't consider size alone to be the basis for a long-term relationship or even marriage. Some women are 'size queens', and do consider it a deal-breaker if he's not up to length, hardness, shape, stamina; things like that," 

"I realized Mike was big; I mean, I didn't want details or that sort of thing, but now all the teasing and compliments Jennifer gave him when we'd get together, it all starts to make sense now."

She nodded, and started to eat. "Yeah, I noticed that when he started to go over the line. I mean, she's got long legs, but not so much up top. That's one reason I got these," she hefted a breast towards him, "but he didn't know what to do with them, or care."

"So is that why you were hostile towards me?"

She looked at him as if he was crazy. "Hostile? Bob, I wasn't hostile, I needed to find a way to let you know! If I could separate Mike and Jen, I would have. I thought you were stupid at first; Jennifer laughed at how she had you fooled. But later I figured you didn't know. The hostility you thought you saw, was thinking maybe you didn't want to know."

He thought about that, frowning. "Yeah, I think so. I wondered; but when you're in love, you give your trust and love. And she abused it. And I can see it all coming together now. All the evasions, the laughter about tricks and bridge, the antsiness she had with sex after bridge. There was no bridge; just a sexual high she needed to come down off of."

"Mike's mallet," she said.

"Huh?"

"That's what I called it; Mike's Mallet. Forget it, it's not important."

He finished the sandwich, cleaned up the plates. "Rachel, I'm still left with the fundamental question; why?"

"Why? Because he has a big dick, and she climaxed nonstop from it? Because she didn't have to do anything but lay back and enjoy? Because it was dangerous, exciting, forbidden, and gave her some power she didn't feel with you? Because she wasn't satisfied with what she had; she had to take it from someone else?" She handed her empty plate to him.

"I feel bitter," he confessed, "betrayed, belittled, and all of the other 'b' words."

"You should, Bob, because I do too. In fact..."

At that moment, the phone rang. Checking the number, he saw it was Jennifer. Mouthing 'it's her', he started to walk away. She seemed to consider following him, but then stood in the entryway to the kitchen, watching him.

"Hello, Jen," he said, as neutrally as he could manage. "Oh, that's a shame. She's where? In Reno? What's she doing in Reno? Sure, the suitcase is where I left it. No, that's a shame. No, nothing's wrong, I'm fine. How's tricks...get it? Sure. Want me to get anything out for you? Ok. A surprise? What sort of surprise? Wow, intriguing...Rachel? Nope, why Rachel? Mike did? I don't know, she's Mike's wife, maybe he should pay more attention. No...I'm not being bitchy. You know Rachel doesn't like me..."

He looked over at Rachel, seeing her trying hard to keep a straight face. She ran back up the stairs, as he continued the conversation.

"No, that's the TV. I'll turn it off before you get home. Bye." He hung up the phone, looking up to see Rachel coming down the stairs, as fully dressed as when she arrived. She started back towards the stairs.

"Those two are going to Reno to file, Bob. You're wife is as good as gone." He nodded, realizing it.

"Are you going back home?" he asked her.

She got a strange look on her face. "Home? Do I have one?" Shaking her head, she went to the door. "If this works out, I need to be gone. Listen, if things don't work out with Jen, I'd like..." she started to cry. "You've been nice to me, which is more than that motherfucker..." Drying her eyes, she caught herself. "I'm not going to get mad. But call me; I can help you out with your own divorce, if you need it. They'll serve you with papers within a week, so you need to get started in the morning. File first, laugh last."

She came up to him, and threw her arms around his chest, kissing him, getting him hard again. Without another word, she turned and went through the door, closing it behind her. If this was one of those European romances, he'd go behind her, but no film crew was handy, so he went upstairs to get to work. Make a copy of the disk, hide the disk, and wipe his history, if only life was that easy.

A few minutes later, he heard her car in the driveway, and stood up to go down and meet her. He was down the stairs, when the door opened, and she came through it. The frazzled hair and rumpled clothing now made perfect sense. She looked at him, seeing his expression.

"Well, who pissed in your cornflakes?" 

"You did, Jennifer." 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I considered letting you take me up the ass tonight, but seeing as how you're being all pissy..."

"Jennifer...I know." He got out, stressing 'know.'

"You know what?"

"About you and Mike. What you've done. What you've done together. About his baby..."

"What the fuck are you talking about? You don't know shit!" she screamed. Seeing the hardness in his eyes, she backed away slightly.

"Pretty intense reaction...Mommy."

"You...how?" she thought. "Rachel put you up to this. She's never liked me, that bitch. What did she tell you?"

"Rachel didn't tell me anything. She showed me, everything." He crossed his arms, as she took a step back.

"What's that supposed to mean? Has she been listening at keyholes? What proof do you have?"

"You'll find out at the trial. I filed first." A lie, but as lies go, it wouldn't hurt to see her sweat.

Hearing the finality, she staggered, coming to rest against the wall. "You're divorcing me? Me?" she shouted.

"You're going to do it to me, aren't you? Reno? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

She gave him a look he'd never seen before; angry, evil, and full of malice. "Yes, I do think you're that stupid. All those years I was teasing Mike, I watched you. You did nothing, never objecting, never remonstrating, and just going with the flow. It was just a game at first, innocent flirting. I expected you to step in and stop it, but nooo. I thought having you jealous would be such fun.

"And Mike paid attention; he wanted me, more and more. Both you and Rachel, just sat while we made plans, made love, getting stretched by that humongous whanger of his. It was so much fun, carrying on. It is an adventure, Mike and I. Romantic, dangerous, exciting. All the things I wanted."

Bob stood, dumbfounded. Whanger? He thought incredulously.

"And you what, wanted me to catch you? You'd have just stopped if I said so?" He leaned against the wall, blocking her progress to the kitchen.

"Yes, at first. But you're dense, "she pointed a finger at him. "At first, it was just innocent fun, getting Mike hard, getting his attention, watching you and Rachel act as if nothing was wrong. And I thought you might have known, at least. And I would have given Rachel some attention, but she's one of those types that 'aren't that kind of girl."

Bob stared at her trying to understand.

"So after a while, you had to keep pushing the envelope, seeing how far you could get, what lengths you could go. It was all some sort of game?"

She smiled triumphantly. "So pencil dick finally connects the dots." 

"Pencil dick? Is that what you call me?" He'd never hit a woman in his life, but, no. Not even for this.

"And worse. Bob, the adventure had gone out of our sex life. Sure, I came, now and again, when you would get it, but a lot of the time, just nothing. And one night, Mike and I got together, and climax city. I come every time with him, Bob, every time he sticks his massive cock in me I..."

"I get the picture," he snapped, "so you're throwing away an entire marriage, house, husband, possibly children...oh, I forgot, you already are expecting. I thought you were kinky, but I never realized how much you must hate me."

She smiled. "I don't hate you, Bob, because it's not worth the effort. I'd have to respect someone I hated. I just hold you and tiny penis in contempt. You're nothing to me now, and I'm going to have a wonderful life with yours and Rachel's money." 

"And why didn't you come to me, Jennifer, and at least explain things? Whatever happened to talking? What about compromise? Why all the games?"

She started laughing. "Because that's what makes it an adventure, Bob. You didn't show me a good time after we got married. I got the romance, the attention, all that before the wedding, but once I had a ring on my finger, I was as good as dead. No romance, the sex got predictable, it wasn't enough. Mike's already ahead of you at his company, guys with big dicks always have the power."

"So the flowers, the dates, the weekend getaways weren't enough..." he growled, "What was it you wanted?"

"Mike's Mallet," she said primly, "You're just not enough. Now get my suitcase, I've got packing to do."

She brushed past him, heading up the stairs, while he looked after her. Who is this person? He thought amazedly. What happened to Jennifer?

"Suitcase!" she screeched from the top of the stairs. The temptation was irresistible to throw it at her, but he made himself get it, dropping it on the bed, next to a growing pile of clothes. He left the room, barely able to contain his anger. She was humming, humming to herself. She was happy with what she'd done!

Making his way down the stairs, trying to hold it together, he went outside. Sitting on the porch, watching the night sky, he felt like crying, but stopped himself. No, don't give her the satisfaction. Still, he choked up, until he heard a voice next to him.

"How'd it go?" Rachel said, sitting in the darkness next to him. She'd pulled on a loose t-shirt and jeans, looking rather well-composed, considering the evening.

"She's allergic to reality," he grumbled, as she snickered. Sitting down next to her, looking off into the distance, the words spilled out.

"At first I thought she loved me, then I thought she hated me, but it turns out she just doesn't care. That hurts worse. Now I could understand hatred; because it would mean at least she feels something, but to be dismissed like that..."

Rachel leaned forward, touching his arm. "Bob, she's pushing your buttons. She feels she can justify what she's done if she can get you to act unreasonable enough. And if you hit her, she can both divorce you and press charges. She's got the cops on speed-dial. I know it's a trial, but just for now, don't surrender. Be reasonable, and that will infuriate her more. Accept some free legal advice, even though I'm not legally qualified to give it."

"Thanks, Rachel. I wish I'd had someone like you when I first met Jen, maybe things would have turned out differently." He squeezed her hand, getting up.

"Who knows?" she smiled, "I...wait, that's Mike. Whatever you do, don't provoke him, and a fist fight would also turn up in the trial. Emotional jiu-jitsu is needed, young padawan. I absent need to be."

Bob chuckled; not every woman would be able to turn a reference like that. Hidden depths to her, there were.

Mike pulled up in his SUV, music blasting inside, as he turned the motor off. Getting out, he saw Bob standing on the porch, and walked past him to the door.

"Don't give me any trouble Bob."

A strange sense of calmness came over the cuckolded husband, as he looked at Mike. "Oh, I won't."

"What? Well..." he appeared flustered, knocking on the door. "Good, good. At least that's seeing how things are going to be."

"I don't dispute that, Mike. You're getting what you want." he said neutrally.

"Damn straight. All she needed was a man, someone who had the equipment to give her what she wanted." His arms moved forward, fists clenching. Bob noted it, but still did nothing.

"Mike!" Jennifer said, as she opened the door. "I'm ready. You and Bob are being reasonable," she glared at her husband.

"As much as reason has anything to do with it," Bob said. "You're both happy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jennifer asked him. "Not trying to be noble about this, are you? Mike could kick your ass, you know." Next to her, Mike put a possessive arm around the woman. "If I have to."

"Nothing like that. Nothing will change your mind, and even if I kicked his ass, you'd just go with him anyway. If I have to let you go, and you go, you were never mine to begin with."

"Oh, don't quote lyrics at me, Bob". 

He sighed, fighting the urges flowing through him. ."Well, I'm sure you have a plane to catch. Don't let me stand in your way." He turned away from them, dismissing them both. Surprised, they gathered the suitcases, and started loading the SUV.

"Well, he is a weakling, after all, Jen. I was looking forward to cleaning his clock, but he's not worth it," Mike huffed, as Jennifer laughed and swung into the passenger seat.

"One thing Mike," Bob said, as they closed the door.

"What?" 

"Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it."

"Whatever that means, shrimpdick. See you in court." He threw the car in reverse, laying rubber out to the street, and burned off, laughing along with his newfound conquest. The taillights faded in the distance, as they sped off to the airport.




Don't Get Mad



"Wouldn't miss it for the world, asshole," he muttered. "I've got my freedom to find a real woman, and you've just attached yourself to a cheating bitch that will drop you for the next well-hung caveman. Enjoy it while you can." He should feel triumphant, or angry, or something, but instead he felt...nothing. Why was that? He was beside himself, in more ways than one.

He looked around, and saw Rachel coming around from her car, parked down the block. "Hey, how did you put up with him all these years?"

She shrugged. "Believe it or not, he wasn't that bad when we met. You handled that well, nothing he can use against us. Notice the video camera he had in the front windshield?"

"No, I was watching him; I expected more of a fight from him than a SLR camera..."So it was all a setup. He wanted me to lose control, give himself a reason to sucker-punch me, and use it in court."

She nodded, coming closer. "I hope you don't mind, but I had the house set up for watching tonight...after we, well, you know."

"What? How many people are watching us?"

"Now," she said, pressing a number on her cell, "none. I thought they'd try something like this. Maybe five minutes of video. Mike and Jen were pushing for a confrontation, because they're scared of what I might do to them in court. Most of that was sheer bluster."

"That's why I didn't push it. As much as I'd like to give him free dental work. I'm sorry, Rachel, but Mike is a gold-plated asshole."

"I'm sorry, mainly that you're right. Listen, I'd like to propose a deal." She looked up at him, holding his arm again.

"I'm listening."

"We're going to be doing a lot of the same work to nail those two; so why don't you and I work together on the legal preparation? My firm can't represent me, due to conflict of interest, but I know most of the other lawyers by reputation, if not personally. I have a evil, top-of-the-line sonovabitch candidate who would love this one. He's even reasonable, because most people don't know he was divorced himself."

"You've got my interest," Bob grinned.

"So we can compare notes together, maybe work in the evenings, until we have an airtight case that will make them realize the difference between fucking and a good screwing."

"Rachel, I like the way you think. Why are the best ones always married?" he laughed.

She looked at him for a second, eyebrows raised. "Why, indeed?" She frowned, letting go of his arm. "Another favor I'd like to ask."

"Name it."

"I drove back to try to determine what shape the house was in. Mike, the asshole, changed the locks while I was at your house, bolted the windows, and I can't even get into my own house unless I break a window. Would it be ok if I spent the night?"

He considered her. So far, she'd been good, better, even. "I'd love it. Where would you sleep?"

"Well, what makes you think of sleep?" She patted his ass, pushing him towards the front door.

"I've got to get into work tomorrow, but at least Friday I can catch up on sleep then. So you want to, well, you know..."

She nodded, pushing him harder. "Yeah, 'quality has a quantity all its' own'. I want to take my time, this time. Jennifer doesn't know what she's missing. How are you at cunnilingus?"

"Isn't that an airline or something?" he joked.

She smirked. "Haven't the foggiest. Jen seemed to think you're good at it, but I want to form my own opinion."

"Is any detail of our former sex life a mystery to you?"

"Who sleeps in the wet spot,. that's about it." 

They entered the house, and moved up the stairs. As she pulled ahead, he spanked her lightly on the ass, just enough to let her know he was there.

"And your stance on fellatio?" he remarked.

"I think the third act was weak, the colatura wasn't doing her best. Besides, I usually kneel for fellatio. Alas, I knew him, fellatio..." she snaked a hand to grab his crotch from the outside, already relishing the hardening shaft she found. 

"Well, who comes first?" he asked.

"Who's on first!" she giggled, "gad, my PE teacher couldn't do sex education, it embarrassed her so much, so she played that instead. The jokes we started over it..." They walked back into the house, and up the stairs.

Looking down into her eyes, he saw a glint he hadn't seen in years with his own wife. "Maybe we can start with a 69,"

"White or red?"

"Don't get me started..." They put arms around each other as they tumbled into his bed. She pushed him down as she pulled off his clothes, quickly stripping her own off. He wasn't surprised she didn't have a bra. Those large, firm globes were hung above him, deserving a taste. She hissed in appreciation as his lips found her hardening nipples, laving them with wetness.

"Fuck, that always goes straight to my pussy," she sighed, as she held his head, drawing him closer. He mumbled, as she 'tched' at him. "No, don't speak; you're already saying the right things."

She closed her eyes, staring at his hard cock, and pulled back. He started in surprise, but nodded as she lowered her moistening sex down onto his lips, while she swung around to take his cock in her mouth. 

"Now, Fellatio, act three, with orchestral accompaniment," she whispered, as she felt him laughing under her. His tongue was already hard at work, darting over her clit, lovingly tracing her inner lips, and probing deliciously into her vag. He was good, she had to admit. He didn't just suck on her clit to the exclusion of everything else; every part of her getting attention. Good luck getting Mike to do that, Jen, she thought. But presently she wasn't thinking at all. 

"Fuck, I'm just gonna suck your cock," she said, more to herself. She opened her mouth, able to move the head through her full lips, to slide into her throat. While she'd never been able to get 'the mallet' completely down, she found herself sliding inch after inch in, until she found her lips against his pubic hair. Fuck, I did it! She marveled, as she came back. 

She shuddered as she felt him moving her inexorably towards orgasm. Pulling at her, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from coming, so she decided to 'reward' him. Her head bobbed purposefully as she felt him swell up even more under her ministrations, the balls drawing tight, as he got her closer, and closer...

Just as she felt the coming explosion of a mind-blowing climax, he...stopped. "Bastard!" she growled, as she balanced on the brink. He blew on her clit, cooling it, drawing her away from the edge, as she looked at his cock. Sucking him off didn't seem like the most important thing anymore.

She pulled herself away from that wonderful, talented mouth, and reversed directions. "I'm sorry, but I have to have you, I want you inside me, right now." 

He looked up at her, lust in her eyes. "I'm not going to last long after that." 

"Neither am I, you horrible tease." Grabbing his cock, she arranged it to slide into her, breathing out as she felt him fill her. Not as much as Mike, but enough. She shifted herself to feel him insider her, looking down, amused at him. "That's so good," she moaned, "I could grow to like this."

"You squeeze much harder, and I won't be growing anymore." 

She leaned down and kissed him, noting he slid deeper.. "I want that. I want you to come in me."

He rocked, as she moved in counterpoint, rotating her hips in that magical way that cowgirls do when on top. She gasped as she got closer again, loving the thrust of his hips under her. She was wet, wet and ready, trying to coax his load out of him.

"C'mon, Bob, fill my pussy, give me that come!" she said, talking dirty to him. It always got Mike off faster, and she wanted to come with him, her own throbbing insides threatening to make her explode with pleasure 

"I'm glad one of us is using protection," he got out, not noticing the look in her eye as she avoided his gaze. She felt her hips twitch rhythmically, as the final resistance fell away, and she was swept into a storm of ecstasy.

"Fuck me, oh fuck me!" she cried, as he pushed hard from below, feeling her clamp around him, her liquid core melting around the thick shaft.

"Aaagh! Fuck yeah!" he shouted, a thick pulse of hot semen shooting deep within her. She held him fast with her hips, falling forward to shove her tongue deep in his throat, holding each other while they climaxed together. The sheets tangled around them as they shook, hot and sweaty, binding them even closer together.

Spent, they collapsed on each other, staring deep into the others' eyes, happy, content. Breathing heavily, they touched each other, content in the nearness of each others' bodies.

"And that about does me," Bob groaned, as she pouted above him.

"Oh, I think mores' in store later," she winked, lying on top of him. She moved her legs back, still holding him inside, but propped up on her elbows just over him.

"I've got to get some sleep. I feel drained, somehow." He hugged her. "You are so good, Rachel. Why did a sap like Mike ever let you go?"

She looked into the distance, sober. "I've been asking that all night, Bob. Funny; I never would have done something like this if he hadn't done it to me first." Kissing his nose, she slid off to one side. "Like you saying to Jennifer, like I never knew him."

"Bugging my house?" he playfully jibed.

"Your conversation was frank and earnest, Bob. I think the people across the street could give you a blow by blow." Seeing him blush, she brushed his hair back. "I married him because I thought he was the one. I didn't blindly go into it; I weighed the pros and cons. And just a couple years into it, he runs off with the first chippy to spread for him. What about you, ever tempted?"

"Not...I mean I never thought about cheating on her, until recently. And I've always admired you from a distance, even though I wouldn't dare get between a man and his wife. And I would still not cheat, until someone fixes this big empty space in my heart. You know what I mean?"

She hugged him fiercely. "I know exactly what you mean. Can I confess something to you?" She drew away, watching his eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"Bob, I...well, I wasn't honest with you tonight." He looked over at her, suspicious.

"More about Jen? Has she been doing biker gangs, or works a street corner, what?"

She sat up, looming over him. "No, it's about me. I, well, I don't know how to say this, but I used you tonight."

He laughed, and ran a hand over her thigh. Despite herself, she shivered in pleasure. "Is that all? Well, I admit I used you. I can't admit to being better used, by a nicer person."

She started to cry, and sniffled as she looked at him. "Well, it was before I found out what a lover you are. Bob, I'm probably pregnant, right now."

At the word pregnant, he stiffened, eased down.. "By who? I'm sorry, but I need to know."

She kissed him, and held his hands. "By you. I know it's crazy, but Mike and I. we're talking about children. He was fine, but I had some problems, you know? So the doctor prescribed some fertility drugs. Tonight's the night. But Mike and Jen were off making one of their own, or celebrating. That movie is about a week old.

"And I felt cheated on so many levels. He wanted children, just not with me. And I know Jen said you two had discussed it. It's hard to explain, but somehow, I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me, on an emotional level. If she had to have my man's babies, I was going to do the same to her. So I came over to get pregnant.

"I don't want you to feel pressured, and I won't hold you responsible, because you didn't know. I'm not trying to trap you. In fact, my plan was to stick him with the child support, since we did do it a couple nights ago, when Jen came home early. There's a possibility it's his, but I want to be honest with you." She held onto him, sobbing, and he found his arms around her.

"I don't know what to say, Rachel; my shock meters are on overload tonight. I should be furious. I don't know why I'm not." He felt...he pulled her face to look into her eyes. Something primal awakened in him, thinking about her wanting to get knocked up. 

Kissing her, he smiled. "In fact, I don't know why, but that is the most erotic thing a woman has ever said to me." Running a hand along the swelling curve of her breast, he tweaked a nipple. 

She gasped, and stopped crying. "You mean it?"

"The most natural feeling in the world. To have a woman offer everything she has, to swell up, go through all sorts of pain and agony, morning sickness, just to give man children, that's hot." He felt her hand wander down below.

"Speaking of swelling," she archly observed, "I...you're one of those pervs who likes pregnant women, aren't you?" She smirked, already stroking him.

"Uhhn, yeah," he said, thrusting his mouth on hers, frenching her. "I can't wait, you sticking out, carrying my kid, showing and growing bigger and bigger. I hope it's mine, I really do." 

She squealed in delight, then drew up to her hands and knees, sticking a pillow under her stomach. "Well, you wanna make sure?" She waggled her ass at him. "I could use more of that." Writhing with her thighs, her sex was already wet and glistening. Feeling him swing around behind her, she bit on her knuckle as she felt a hard cock part her nether lips, and thrust home with a single stroke. 

The fucked hard and fast, Rachel spurring him on with every dirty word she knew, to fill that cunt with his potent seed, and put one in the oven. Exciting to just throw all the habits of a lifetime of 'don't get caught,' and surrender to instinct, not only ignoring the consequences, but welcoming them. She envisioned herself heavy with child, a huge, round belly too big to be covered, tits full of sweet milk, having him drink from her as they fucked themselves through every trimester. She imagined lakes of hot cum filling her needy pussy, engorged with a single-minded purpose; to make her as pregnant as she could get.

Similar thoughts filled Bob's head as well. He could imagine her pregnant, those luscious breasts, swollen and sensitive, licking and sucking her to orgasm after orgasm. Long nights in bed, moving his hands in erotic patterns over her gravid body, candles and oils and fun in the bath. Hearing her moan his name, they made love for the first time..

As he finally exploded inside her, yelling his name, compressing hard to hold him inside her as he spurted his thick load into her very essence. He grabbed her with both hands, holding himself as far as he could go. They came down, his softening member inside her, dropping the last pearls of fertile sperm into her throbbing wetness.

They fell asleep joined together, waking up and looking at each other in the early morning. Each felt a trace of guilt, but also happiness. Both had lost something precious, but had found it again, in someone else. They made love again, in preparation for making war.

When Rachel finally made it home that evening, she found a shell of a house; every possession packed and moved out in her absence. A 'for sale' sign was already planted in the lawn, and a post-it from the sheriff's office notified her of her own eviction. The police were polite, allowing her to collect her few remaining belongings, locking up after she left. Thereafter, she found herself at Bob's, crying, ready for murder. He held her all through the night, as she lamented the injustice that had been done. 

After that, the gloves came off; the next few months resulted in one of the nastiest, most hateful divorces granted in the county. The case itself was a model of vindictiveness that's still cited across the state, even years later. It turned out to be the legal equivalent of a desert called 'peace.'

Jennifer gave Mike a healthy baby boy, and a couple of years of wedded bliss, until one evening when he came home and found she'd encountered someone 'bigger'. They'd wound up in Las Vegas, after Reno, and Mike found himself alone, reaping the reward Bob had prophesized. He faded into obscurity, always wondering what would have happened if he'd stayed with Rachel.

Rachel and Bob found the work had been fruitful indeed; she was carrying quadruplets and made the news. They married before the birth, fucking like minks, up to (and even after) the doctors said not to. It wasn't a match made in heaven, but overall a happier one than their previous spouses enjoyed. Sometimes, something has to be lost, in order to find something better. But sometimes keeping something found is the best outcome of all.



Don't Get Mad... Get Even



Sharon unlocked the door and entered Helen's house. Helen, a 29 year old divorcee, was her next door neighbor and best friend. Sharon had promised to tend to her cat while she was out of town. Sharon went in, found the cat food, and put down fresh food and water, but didn't see the cat anywhere. "Oh well," she thought, "she'll come out of hiding when she's hungry."

Since her husband was also out of town, Sharon decided to borrow a video from Helen's collection of tapes. John, had left early this morning for Washington, D.C. He had a conference starting early Monday morning. She spotted, Casablanca, and took it - she loved the old movies. "I haven't seen this in years. It's a good one to watch by myself -- I can cry and not be embarrassed about it," she thought as she locked up and headed home..

Even though it was early afternoon, Sharon got a diet soda, loaded the video in the VCR, and sat down to watch it. The picture flickered for few moments and then the picture finally came on, but it wasn't a movie. It was a home video. Sharon saw Helen with her tits squeezed around a prick as some guy fucked her breasts. The prick was just barely going between Helen's lips each time the guy thrust it forward - she could see Helen's tongue teasing and lick the head of his prick. Then, she watched as the guy's prick started pumping shot after shot of cum onto Helen's face. "Damn, I didn't even know she was going with anyone," mumbled Sharon as she hit pause on the remote. She felt embarrassed; like she was spying on Helen.

Her curiosity won out over her misgivings. "Hell, I might as well watch it. See who it is," muttered Sharon as she clicked the VCR back on. The next scene showed Helen sucking the guy's prick, and then, him cumming on her face again. The scenes were evidently made at different times. Occasionally there would be a date/time shown up in the corner of the picture. Sharon was taking a drink of her soda when the scene changed. Helen was sitting in the guy's lap with his prick clearly buried in her pussy - they were both facing the camera. Startled, Sharon swallowed wrong, choked on the drink, and started coughing. When she got her coughing under control, the scene had changed.

Sharon didn't believe what she had seen. She quickly stopped it, rewound it, and replayed the scene - pausing on the picture of the two. "YOU, SON-OF-A-BITCH," she yelled, hurling the half full can of soda at the television screen. It was her husband...John was screwing Helen. Sharon put her face in her hands, weeping, "Damn you...Damn you. How could you?" After a few minutes, she got her emotions under control, but not her anger, anger at John and at Helen. She restarted the video and watched the remaining 15 minutes or so of John and Helen sucking and fucking each other. Her anger peaked when she noted that the last scene was dated last Thursday night when she was at the women's country club meeting - the one Helen didn't make. Sharon turned the video off, picked up the phone, and punched in the number for the hotel that John had left by the phone.

"Good afternoon, this is the Washington Ambassador Hotel. How can I help you?"

Keeping her voice under control, Sharon replied, "Ms Helen Alperson's room please." If she was there, she would have her own room. The operator said just a moment and Sharon heard the connection and then the ring, once, twice, and on the third ring she heard Helen's voice say, "Hello." Sharon slammed the phone down so hard a large chunk of plastic went flying across the room - she'd broken the handset. "Atlanta...like hell," thought Sharon. "She's there with him - in Washington."

"I'll take his ass to the cleaners," Sharon fumed. "Ten years....married ten years and that bastard does this. I'll make him pay for this...pay until it hurts." Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door chimes. "Who the hell could that be on Sunday," muttered Sharon to herself.

Opening the door, Sharon saw it was Rudy, the college kid that serviced their pool.

"Hi Rudy, what's the matter?"

"Oh I....don't you remember...I called yesterday. You said it would be okay to do the pool today."

"Oh shit!" exclaimed Sharon. Noticing the surprised look on his face, Sharon realized what she had said. "I'm sorry, Rudy.....I just forgot. Excuse my language...please, I'm a little upset. I didn't mean to bark at you."

"I could come.."

"No...No, go ahead and do it today. I'm not bothered by that....I just had something else on my mind."

"Thanks Mrs. Watson. I'm sorry I didn't get by yesterday, but I was running real late. It'll only take about an hour and I'll be out of here."

Sharon stood at the plate glass door to the den and watched Rudy as he worked. He was a nice looking kid, 19 or 20, in his first year at the local college. At about six feet tall, in shorts and a tank top, he looked like he might be in to body building or least some kind of strenuous exercise. She was still seething with anger, when a thought suddenly occurred to her. She smiled and whispered to herself, "What's that old saying, 'Don't get mad, get even,' and she chuckled. "It would serve him right," she said aloud. She turned and almost ran up the stairs, unbuttoning her blouse as she went.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She had put on the skimpiest bikini she had - the one that she never wore in public, only for John. The bra just barely covered her nipples and their aureoles; the bottom was a thong and the small patch of material in the front let her dark pubic hair stick out on all sides. "Damn, I'm getting turned on just thinking about this," she thought as felt the moistness in her pussy. "God, what if I try this and he doesn't want me? I'm 31. I must be 11 or 12 years older than he is." She looked at her image critically, 5'6", 117 pounds, 34-27-35. A brunette with reddish highlights to her short hair who had always wished her tits were bigger. She cupped her breasts in her hands. They were still a handful, with very long, very sensitive nipples that she could feel rubbing against the bra material.

As she walked out to the pool she thought, "I've never even been with another man - Christ, I was virgin when I met John." Rudy was down at the other end of the pool as Sharon called out to him, "Hey Rudy. Take a break....I brought you a beer. It's hot out here." She put the beer down and stretched out on the double lounge chair, the one for two people. She watched him walk toward her. She could see him eyeing her outfit and thought there was a bulge beginning to show in his shorts. "This may be easier than I expected," she whispered softly to herself.

He sat down in a deck chair beside her and they chatted for awhile. She was watching him when she rolled over on her stomach, exposing her naked butt with the thong running up between the cheeks of her ass. Then, when she unfastened her bra strap, the bulge in his shorts definitely got larger. She picked up the lotion and held it out to him, "Rudy, would you rub some lotion on me - I don't want to burn."

"Uh....yeah....sure, Mrs. Watson," he stammered as he got up and sat down on the side of the lounge chair..

As he rubbed the lotion on her back, Sharon said, "Call me Sharon, Mrs. Watson makes me feel too old." Reaching back she patted the left cheek of her ass, "Put a lot of lotion on these...they don't get a lot sun." She heard a mumbled okay then felt his hands massaging her ass, rubbing the lotion in. Her pussy felt like it was flooding with heat and moisture, she must be soaking the front of her bikini. "Oh Rudy, that feels so good, I'll let you do the front too," she said softly as she rolled over on her back letting her bra fall away from her tits.

He was sitting on the side of the lounge chair next to her hip, facing her. She placed one arm on his thigh letting her hand drop casually to the inner side of his leg, her finger tips lightly stroking him.. The bulge in his shorts was large, clearly visible, and had to be uncomfortable. "God," thought Sharon, "I'm torturing the kid. I feel like Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate."

Sharon set up, her bra falling away to the ground. She slid her hand up his thigh and into the leg of his shorts. "You must be uncomfortable with this big thing trying to get out," she said softly as her fingertips stroked his balls and the base of his cock. "No one can see us....there's nobody home next door....take off your shorts. I want to see you....look at you." God, she had never behaved like this before. She felt a sexual excitement, an aching in her loins and pussy, that she had never experienced before.

"Oh....Mrs. Watson...."

"Sharon....it's Sharon," she whispered as she watched him jump up and strip off his clothes. When his prick sprang free of his briefs, Sharon took a deep breathe as she gazed at it. Her first thought was, "Damn, he's big...much bigger than John....I wonder how something that big will feel in my pussy." She reached out and grasped his prick in her hand and gently pulled him toward her, guiding his prick to her mouth. She kissed the tip of his prick letting her tongue probe at the slit in its head and then slide all around the crown. She slipped her mouth over the large head, swirling her tongue around its crown as it entered her mouth. She could feel her pussy responding and aching for attention. Letting his prick slip from her mouth, she quickly removed her bikini bottom and lay back, spreading her legs. "Oh Rudy, put that beautiful prick where it belongs...I want it in me."

As he crawled between her legs, she reached down, gripped his prick, and began rubbing its head up and down between her swollen pussy lips, coating it with her juices. Just as she completed an upward stoke brushing her throbbing clit, she felt his prick jerk in her hand and heard him moan, "OHhhh Shit.....dammit!" He was cumming. The first spurt of cum landed on her left breast, the second, not as forceful, landed on her stomach. She got his prick back down to her pussy. She rubbed the head of his prick against her swollen clit, milking his throbbing prick with her hand - she let him pump his warm, hot cum over her clit and the outside of her pussy.

"Oh damn....I'm sorry Mrs....I mean, Sharon. I couldn't...."

Sharon pulled him down on her and kissed him silencing him. "Honey, it wasn't your fault." She chuckled, "It's my fault...I've been acting like a prick-teaser ever since I came out here." Using two fingers she scooped his cum off her breast and licked it off her fingers while she watched his eyes. "Besides, we've got all afternoon. I'm not going let you leave until you've fucked me with that big prick of yours....maybe more once." Still holding his prick in her hand, she hugged with one arm and kissed him running her tongue deep into his mouth. Breaking the kiss, she whispered, "You're still hard...just as hard as before."

"Yeah, when I'm real excited, I'll cum like that...real quick. Then I'm okay."

Sharon chuckled, "Then let's put that thing where it belongs." She rubbed the head of his prick on her cum soaked pussy, slipping it between her swollen pussy lips, feeling its large head enter her pussy. "Oh God....Rudy how big is that thing?" she moaned as he pushed his prick deep into her throbbing cunt. She clutched his ass pulling him against her pussy, grinding her hips against him, trying to get his prick even deeper into her as she felt the spasms start deep in her cunt. "OHhhhh.....I'm going to cum. OH GOD....I'm cumming.....I'm cumming."

He pushed his prick as deep into the throbbing pussy as he could. He could feel her pussy gripping his prick as her orgasm swept through her body. He paused holding himself in her.

"No...No, don't stop," begged Sharon. "It feels too good." She laughed, gasping for her breath, "I guess I was a little excited too." She hugged him, "But don't stop. Fuck me....fuck me anyway you want to...make me cum again." She kissed him running her tongue deep into his mouth, thrusting it against his tongue.

Rudy lengthen his strokes into her pussy. He was withdrawing to the head of his prick and then driving his prick back down into the very depths of her pussy. She had never felt anything go that deep or stretch her pussy so wide. "My God," she thought, "it never felt like this with John, never."

She wrapped her legs around his thighs opening her pussy even wider to his thrusts. She could feel her clit being ground against the base of his prick as it rammed deep into her cunt. She began to thrust her hips up to meet his downward thrusts, wanting him...that beautiful big prick...even more than before. "OHhh...that's it.....fuck me....Fuck me hard. Oh Rudy, go deep....all the way...as fast....as hard as you can."

He increased the tempo of his thrusts and after a couple of minutes moaned loudly, "I can't hold it...can't....I'm going to cum."

Sharon tighten her legs around him and gripped his ass cheeks in her hands pulling him against her, grinding her hips into his. She could feel her fingernails sinking into the flesh of his ass but she couldn't help it. She could feel the tension building in her body, then, just as his prick erupted in her pussy pumping his cum deep into her cunt, she felt the spasms in her pussy as she climaxed, the release her body and her pussy had been aching for.

Rudy had paused, his prick buried in her as he flooded her pussy with cum. Sharon hugged him to her as they lay there, not saying anything, recovering - she could feel his prick, still hard, buried in her pussy. After a few minutes, Rudy resumed the long slow strokes into her cum filled tunnel - he was still hard, just hard as before! She could feel, even hear, his cum and her juices being squeezed out of her soaked pussy by his large prick, running down the sides of her thighs and down the crack of her ass.

After a few minutes of the slow steady stroking of his prick into her pussy, Rudy picked up the pace, and began to drive his prick into her faster and faster. When he pushed deep into her, grinding the base of his prick against her pussy, pressing it against her clit, it triggered a new wave of sensations in her pussy. She gripped Rudy in her arms and moaned loudly, "OHhhhh GOD, OOhhh, I'm cummmiiinng.....cummminnng!!!" Rudy kept grinding his prick against her and Sharon felt her body shudder as another, even more powerful, orgasm welled up from her pussy. "OH DAMN....OH RUDY....I"M CUMMMING, CUMMING AGAIN!!!"

Rudy collapsed onto her and lay there, breathing heavily, his prick, now limp, slipping from her pussy. Their sweaty bodies melded together.

Sharon, gasping for breath, whispered, "Oh Rudy...Rudy, I always thought those stories....stories about multiple orgasms were just that - stories. Christ...I didn't know I could cum like that." She took a deep breath, still trying to catch her breath and come down from her sexual high. She hugged Rudy tightly, "I'm going to have let you come service the pool more often - it needs it....I need it."

Rudy laughed and rolled from between her legs. He leaned over her and kissed her gently. "I didn't get finished today. I think I need to come back sometime next week, maybe Tuesday?"

She pulled him to her and kissed him, running her tongue deep into his mouth. Breaking the kiss, she smiled at him, "I think that's an excellent idea." She rolled her body into his and draped her leg over his legs. She could feel his flaccid prick resting against her wet, cum matted pubic hair. Her mons ached slightly from the pounding it had received, but it was a good, satisfying ache of fulfillment "Just hold me right now....hold me tight. I feel so damn good I don't even want to move."

Rudy chuckled, "Okay, we'll just rest a few minutes. I don't have to go anywhere....we have all afternoon."

Sharon buried her face against his neck and kissed it. As she kissed his neck, teasing him with her tongue, she thought, "Whoever came up with that saying 'Don't get mad, get even' certainly knew what they were talking about - getting even was a lot more fun and more satisfying. She wouldn't divorce the bastard - she'd just keep on getting even. Now, all she had to do was think up some way to get even with Helen." Sharon smiled to herself as she thought about it, "I'll think of something - something really good."

To Be Continued...



Don't Get Mad, Get Even



Hi folks,

First off, I want to say thanks for all of the wonderful e-mails I got about last month's Story (Falling in and out of Love). I was really glad to see that a lot of you understood what I was going for. This one is a different animal though. I hope that the story is worth at least what you've paid to read it. For those of you who don't like this one, just e-mail me, tell me what you didn't like and I'll send you a refund. Thanks to the legendary Barney-R for editing this one while on vacation. Any goof ups you find were probably things i changed when i went back over it after he was done. SS06 

* * * * * *

I heard the buzzing from my cellphone and immediately came awake. I quickly silenced it and left our bedroom to get rid of the call before it awakened my sleeping husband. 

I crept through the house and down the stairs to our living room where my voice wouldn't carry back to Steve, even if he did wake up. There on the stairs in my darkened living room, I let out my fury once and for all. 

"God damn it Rick," I hissed. "I told you that it was over. Don't you understand English? It was never meant to be a permanent thing. I told you from the very beginning, that as soon as Steve graduated and our life went back to normal, you and I were done! You were there at his graduation last week. I was kind enough to give you one for the road, Monday? Now stop calling me..." I paused to listen to his whining for a second, but my fury only increased. Deep down inside, I was flattered by the way he felt, but I simply didn't return his feelings. I was despite all of the evidence to the contrary, a one man woman. I loved my husband like there was no tomorrow. 

"You won't say shit, asshole. You have just as much to lose as I do. You're married too. And Georgia would take you to the cleaners. On some level I will miss it," I said. "Yes Rick you have the biggest dick I've ever had, but you already know that. It's over, don't call me anymore. No not even one more time. It has to end. So I'm ending it!"

I went into shock as the lamp on my living room suddenly flashed on. I looked into the biggest softest brown eyes I had ever seen. I knew every line and fleck of those eyes. Those eyes and the heart connected to them were what made me fall in love with Steve ten years before when I was only twenty years old. 

I had been so intent on quickly getting out of bed and out of our room before Steve heard my phone that I hadn't noticed that he was no longer in our bed. 

I could hear the sound of Rick pleading with me over the phone as it fell from my fingers and landed on the hardwood floor just below me. The screen of the fragile device cracked, but it still functioned and Rick continued to whine and plead. The ten foot distance between me and the chair my husband sat in suddenly seemed like an unreachable distance. 

My heart was beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it across the room. My husband's pain was evident in those same soft brown eyes. They seemed to be getting wetter with each passing second, but I knew he wouldn't cry in front of me. 

The silence was deafening and it seemed to stretch for hours although I know that only a few seconds had elapsed since the light came on. 

"My body takes a while to adjust from the midnight shift," he said. "I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to wake you or keep you up too. I came down here to play some games on my iPad. 

His voice was tortured, but as he spoke he gained strength. Those first few words, delivered in a halting cadence were just his way of stalling for time. After ten years together, I knew him. Logic would take over next. 

"I have the day off tomorrow," he said. "Actually I have the next two days off. I'm going to throw some clothes on and take my Mustang out for a drive. Maybe I'll stop off for breakfast. Then I'll be home. It's just after midnight. I'll try not to come back before 8am ...

"But Steve, Honey, please don't leave we need to talk ..." I whined. He held his hand up as if gesturing for me to shut the fuck up. 

"I'm not leaving," he spat. "I'm giving you time to pack your shit. When I get back in the morning, I'll be tired, I'll go to sleep ... Just like I do after any other midnight shift. If you're here ... I'll hurt you ... BADLY. 

"But Sweetheart, I have to explain this to you," I whined. "I'm sorry. You have to let me explain ...

He walked straight to me and for the first time since I had known my sweet and gentle husband, I was afraid. I really believed that he was going to hit me. But he didn't even touch me as he bounded right by me and up the stairs. A few moments later ... barely long enough for me to begin to cry he was rushing past me in the other direction. The front door opened and slammed again and he was gone. I heard the hellish sound of his Mustang's exhaust system growing softer as he drove away. 

I collapsed on the stairway and just started crying. 

"Is he coming over here?" asked Rick's now shrill voice, from the still active phone. "Oh boy, I really fucked up didn't I?" I hung the phone up wondering why I'd answered it in the first place. 

I ignored the phone. All I could think about was that my marriage was over. I thought abut trivial things. So many should have, could have and would have scenarios went through my mind as the tears fell. 

I should have never cheated on him. I should have let him get me pregnant when he first wanted a baby. If we had kids I'd have an extra hold on him. Steve would never leave his children. He loved kids in general. But our kids ... They would have owned his heart even more than I did. 

I could have spent the rest of my life being the best wife possible for him. That had been my intention after all. The fling with Rick ... And that was all it was ... A fling. A momentary scratch for a tiny itch that I could have lived with. It had meant nothing. It had meant less than nothing. 

Fuck ... Who was I kidding? The fling with Rick meant that I was lying here on the fucking stairwell crying my eyes out while my husband put as much distance between us as he could. It meant that I had no idea about the future of my marriage. 

I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving Steve. I'd already loved him for the past ten years of it. Not a day went by that I didn't thank the gods that he married me. I loved the man with all of my heart and soul. I couldn't so much as look at a picture of him without smiling. 

Stevie was my everything. He was tall and slim with a boyish charm that made him seem a lot younger than we were. I had to admit that he carried the years better than I did. We seemed to be total opposites. He had light, dishwater blond hair and beautiful brown eyes to my dark brown hair and light grey eyes. He always talked about my eyes they were his favorite things about me; he claimed. At least that was what he told everyone else. But in private, Steve loved my ass. 

That was one of the things that told me he loved me. My body was average at best. I'd had a tough time becoming comfortable in my skin. My boobs are a generous C cup, but it was my ass that drew men to me. Long before I knew what a Kardashian was, I could have been one. 

I used to dress in long flowing skirts to hide my ass. It was Steve who told me how sexy it was. I had always noticed that a lot of older men got funny looks on their faces around me, but I'd never known why. I had always hated my ass. 

In some ways I blamed my mom. I had her shape. She was happy with it. My daddy couldn't keep his hands off of her. I used to feel sorry for her when I was growing up. I'd come into a room and find them lying on couch, or sitting together and he'd be grabbing and squeezing her ass. As soon as they saw me she'd quickly push him away or he'd look up at me and move his hands. 

To be truthful, when I was very young, I was embarrassed by it. None of my friends had parents who were constantly feeling on each other. They all had parents who were polite to each other, but that was it. Their parents were just like the ones in our story books. I was the one who ended up with the crazy parents. 

As I got older, I realized that I was the lucky one. My parents, even into my teens, were so in love with each other that they still did things together. They REALLY loved each other.

I on the other hand was an awkward girl. I was uncomfortable with my body. I wanted to be a waifish slip of a girl like a lot of my friends. I also loved that athletic but busty look that a lot of the cheerleaders had. 

I met Steve when I was twenty. He was a business major and I was just attending college. I had no idea what I wanted to do. And after two years of wasting my parents' money with barely middling grades, I was still taking a lot of liberal arts classes. 

I was sitting at a table at the student center with my best friend Liz when I first saw him. Liz was a tall skinny girl with big glasses and no boobs. But somehow she exuded sex. I think it was because a lot of guys saw her long legs and imagined those legs wrapped around them. The fact that she has no boobs had never occurred to her. 

She also had a friendly outgoing nature and a bright, sunny personality. She could get away with things that would mortifying other people. So when she stood up and left me at the table in mid sentence, I was unaware of her plans. 

When she returned to our table dragging a man behind her, I was sure that she was in the process of making yet another conquest. 

As she forced him into a seat, I laughed. "Ya got another one huh, Lizzie?" I said. 

"Nope," she said. "This one is yours." 

A shock went through my entire body. I was a healthy, normal 20 year old woman, but other than a terrible incident a year earlier when I lost my virginity to another friend's cousin in a basement sleepover party, I had never had much to do with men. I remember my embarrassment when I heard her brother and the cousin talking the next morning while the girls were all asleep. 

"So Ya got some pussy last night huh, Bobby? I told you, I love it when my sister has these sleepovers. It's like shooting fish in a barrel," said one. I recognized the voice as belonging to the brother of the girl who hosted the party. 

"Dude it wasn't that great," said the guy who had just taken my virginity. "She didn't know how to fuck. She just laid there like a rock. I think she cried. Then this morning I noticed that there was blood all over my white silk boxers. I didn't know she was a cherry. Now the bitch will be following me all over town moping about how I belong to her because she gave me such a special fucking gift. And I'm not sure you know this, but dude her ass is HUGE. I was scared to flip her over and try to get some Doggie. I thought I might fall into that ass and without a safety rope and some spotlights, I wasn't sure I could find my way out." 

Luckily, they thought that I, like the other girls, was still asleep. As soon as they left, I got dressed, woke the hostess, thanked her for inviting me, and left, citing an early hair appointment. I never went back to her house again. I also stayed as far away from men as I could. 

"What do you mean, mine?" I asked Liz. 

"Every time I see this guy, he's staring at you," she said. 

"Okay, I have a big butt," I said angrily. "I can't help it. I've tried dieting, it doesn't help. It's really rude to ..." I suddenly noticed both the mortified look on Steve's face and Lizzie's laughter. 

"Shut up, stupid," she smiled. "You're making a fool of yourself. He stares at your face, Dummy," she hissed. "I think he likes you, for real."

I turned and looked at Steve and that was it. Those big, soft brown eyes took over my heart. I was his from that moment on and he had no idea. 

"You have the most beautiful gr-gr-gray eyes," he stuttered. "And your hair is always so ..." 

"Me?" I asked in shock. I thought it was some kind of joke. 

He shyly nodded his head. 

"Okay, asshole, which fraternity are you pledging?" I asked. He ran away so quickly that Carl Lewis couldn't have caught him. 

Needless to say, our first meeting wasn't spectacular. It took a few more meetings before we had our first date, but we got together. And once we were together, it was obvious to everyone around us that we were in love. Things moved so quickly that we were married within a year of that first awkward meeting. 

And I blossomed inside of that same year. Somehow, knowing that Steve found me beautiful and sexy, made me feel that way. Knowing that Steve loved my ass, meant good bye to long flowing skirts and hello to short tight skirts that showed it off.  

As I look back on it now, with Steve I had become like my mother. Steve was always touching me and I loved it. But, shit, I felt him up too, constantly. Steve is my everything and marriage didn't change it at all. 

My parents were always telling me that Steve was a great husband. Anything I wanted he worked his ass off and got for me. That was the problem. Steve was working his ass off but it just wasn't enough. He decided to go back to school and get into some aspect of the medical field to give us more financial stability. 

We talked about it and Steve thought that the best way or us to go would be for him to pull some money out of his 401K plan to cover his school and our living expenses while he was in school. That way we wouldn't have a mountain of college loans to pay off when he was done. 

Steve worked his ass off and graduated with honors. At his graduation ceremony, while accepting an award for his excellent grades, Steve's speech praised ME for always being there for him and helping him while he struggled learning and adjusting to his new field of study. And now only three weeks after his graduation, we were in trouble. 

I barely had the energy to get myself off of the stairs, but I went up and packed a bag. I took several outfits and my makeup and personal items but no more. I was willing to give Steve a couple of days ... Maybe three, to calm down; but no more. We needed to talk about this and there was no way I could be without him for any longer than that. 

* * * * * *

Steve 

I drove away into the night. I was only on the freeway for abut five minutes. It was a good thing too. I was nowhere near emotionally stable enough to drive fast. And the last thing I needed at that moment was to wrap my car around a tree. I could just see myself being rolled into my own ER on a gurney. 

It would be too embarrassing to have some of my coworkers X-ray me. I could see it now. They would do the normal trauma protocol; a mobile chest X-ray to ensure that my lungs were functioning and that there were no PEs. They could also check for rib fractures and other pathology. They would also do a mobile pelvic X-ray to check for non-extremity lower body injuries. If I had any head trauma, I would be scheduled for a CT of my brain. Then I would be thoroughly checked over and have X-rays of any extremities or other less major injuries. 

The whole thing would be too embarrassing. It was easier to just drive slowly. Luckily I was working a lot of midnight shifts, so I knew which places were still open. 

I pulled into a small cafe that had the best breakfast menu I knew. I got some coffee and sat down in a booth to watch the world go by. 

As I sipped my coffee, I wondered how the hell I got into the situation I was in. What the hell had I done wrong? I couldn't see it happening because Rick was more attractive than I was. Shit, he was over forty with a beer gut and a big assed bald spot. There had to be another reason. 

Maybe he was into a bunch of kinky sex shit that blew my vanilla skills out of the water. He probably had Sarah cumming over and over again until she was screaming out his name and begging him to stop. 

I guess I should have thought about fighting for my woman and all of those other macho things, but at that moment all I felt was hurt, betrayed and less-than. 

"Never saw Ya here this early, Honey," said the waitress refilling my cup. "Going home early to that wife you're always bragging about?" 

I was too embarrassed to tell anyone that the wife I was always bragging about was cheating on me. So I just nodded. 

"Wow, you look like hell, Honey," she said. "Rough night in the ER?" 

"The roughest ever," I lied. "Multi car pile-up. Lots of injuries. I can't wait to get home. I just wanted to stop off and relax a bit first. It's not good to take your work stresses home with you." 

"You are a very smart and considerate man," she smiled. "And you're cute too. Your wife is soooooo lucky." 

"Yeah," I thought as she stepped away to take care of another customer. She's so lucky that she's cheating on me with my older fatter neighbor. 

I left the cafe and decided to drive downtown to the river. I'd never seen the big boats passing at night or in the early morning and I thought it might be calming enough to help me think. 

Just as I started the car, my phone rang. Since the Mustang's sync system was linked to my phone, I saw on the console display that it was Sarah. I didn't answer it. I waited for the call to go to voicemail. A few minutes later she called again. Before I had gotten downtown she'd called me three more times. I wasn't interested in anything she had to say. 

The downtown area was mostly deserted. I parked on the street and walked over to the River walk. As I watched the river, it had a calming effect on me. My heart wasn't racing despite all of the coffee and I felt a lot calmer.

I breathed in and took in the fresh smell of the river in the early morning. Then I blew out a long breath and just let it go. I tried to let all of my tension and pain go with it. 

Then I thought about my situation, and I laughed. It wasn't the end of the world. I was still healthy. I had a great job that I loved. I had my dream car. I wasn't diagnosed with cancer or any other fatal disease. I wasn't going to jail. The woman I had chosen to live with had chosen someone else. Realistically, it had happened at the best possible point in my life. 

I was only thirty years old. I could find someone else and I would be choosier next time. There was still time for me to have a family with my next wife. And best of all, at this point in my life, because of the career change we didn't have SHIT!

I smiled evilly just thinking about it. We had barely any savings left. We had no equity in the house because we had taken out an equity loan to help with my college costs. And I had pulled money out of my 401k plan. There was probably only a couple of thousand dollars left in it. If I went for a no fault divorce, I could just write her a check for half of everything and walk away. 

I could probably leave my job at the hospital and train at one of the other facilities I'd had clinical rotations at during school. That would make me unemployed, although I could probably get a sign on bonus at most of them to cover my expenses while training for a new job. If it worked out the way I saw it, I could have the whole thing over in a couple of weeks. 

It seemed strange to stand there in front of the river planning my exit from a ten year marriage. Sarah had been the woman of my dreams for the past ten years, but I was ready to throw her away that quickly. 

Maybe I was in shock. Perhaps a wiser thing to do would be to give this some time. My phone rang yet again as I stood there. She wasn't giving up easily. I smiled. Maybe if she had fought this hard to stay faithful to me, there would still be a future for us. 

I knew that I was tired and cranky. It was getting near morning and my body was beginning to tell me that I would need to sleep soon. It was my weekend off and we'd made all kinds of plans including a party Saturday night at the home of one of our neighbors. 




Don't Get Mad, Get Even



I also knew that over the next few weeks I'd have the task of explaining why we broke up to everyone we knew. I wondered if Sarah would show up at the party. I wondered if Rick would. 

Just thinking the bastard's name brought my anger back. Rick's wife Georgia would be devastated. They'd been married for so long and they had three kids. Georgia, like me didn't deserve what was happening to her. She had so much invested in her life with Rick. I doubted that she would divorce him. Things would be rough for them for a while, but they had three kids and they had been together for so long. She deserved so much better. 

It just seemed so unfair. I had done nothing wrong, but I was the one who ended up losing it all. I had to find a way to make that asshole pay. 

As the sun came up, my phone rang yet again. I didn't need to look at the screen to see who it was. The small chirping sound a few moments later told me that I had yet another message waiting for me. 

I looked at my watch and saw that I had about an hour left before I could go home. I drove to the Meijer's store near my house. They were open 24 hours so I bought some fresh fruits and vegetables. I needed to make sure that I ate well, since I'd be on my own. I also picked upup few nice steaks that I could throw on the grill some evenings when I got home, instead of cooking. 

The shopping had burned up more than the hour and it was well past the time I said I'd be home. As I pulled into my driveway ... I'd thought MY driveway and it suddenly dawned on me that it was MY driveway. It was no longer OURS. There no longer was an US. For the first time in my life I was ALONE. 

I grabbed my bags and went into MY house. Once I got onside and started to put away MY food, I noticed two things. The first was that almost everything I had bought was already in the refrigerator. Sarah had clearly bought the exact same fruits and vegetables the previous day. When I checked the freezer, I noticed that she'd even bought steaks. 

The second thing I noticed was that the phone was ringing. I picked it up wondering who would be calling me at 8:30 in the fucking morning. Suddenly it dawned on me. Whoever was calling was probably calling for Sarah. I wonder if it was one of her lovers. I wondered how many she had. 

"Hello," I said, my voice sounded as if I had died the day before. 

"Steve, Baby, I love you, did you read the note yet? Can I pleeeeeeease come home so we can talk? I am sooooooo sorry, you have to let me explain this and ..." I hung up the phone while she blathered on. 

I grabbed a Honeycrisp Apple from the refrigerator and had it with some of my favorite Canadian MAple turkey breast. I brewed a cup of strong tea and sat down to watch the news on TV. The phone rang again and I picked it up and turned it off. After finishing my snack I got into MY bed. Almost as soon as MY ass hit the sheets, I leaped back out of the bed, staring at it as if it was a vat of acid. How the fuck did I know whether or not that whore had brought any of her legions of lovers over and slept in that fucking bed?

I quickly ran down the hall to the guest room. I almost got into that bed, but at the last second I realized that the bitch was ruthless. She probably knew that I would know that she'd fucked Rick or whomever else she was doing in the house. So she probably figured that I would know if she did it in our bed. So to throw me off the track, she'd fucked them in the guest room. I was sure that I saw cooties multiplying on the seemingly clean sheets and comforter. 

I was exhausted as I went down the stairs and into the den. As soon as I looked at the sofa in there, I knew there were cooties there too. I went into the living room and just before I sat down on the sofa in there I saw her note. I left it there, realizing I couldn't sleep on that sofa either. 

I thought about taking some pillows and a blanket and sleeping in the bathtub. But as much time as the bitch spent in there, I wouldn't put it past her to have fucked someone in there as well. 

I went out to the driveway with a pillow and a blanket and put the seat all the way down in my Mustang. I let the windows down about a third of the way for fresh air and went to sleep. I was exhausted anyway. 

When I woke up, it was late afternoon. I felt numb. I got out of my car to find Sarah sitting on the porch while reading a book. 

"Steve, Honey, why did you sleep in your car?" she asked.

"I didn't know how many of the beds and sofas in the house that you fucked your lovers on," I spat. She looked as if I had punched her. 

She had been trying to appear calm and confident, but seeing what I thought of her had clearly unhinged her. 

"There are no lovers," she said sadly. "You know about Rick, and I wouldn't call him a lover. There was no love involved. And I NEVER brought him into our home. I would never risk hurting you, Steve. I love you. I just made a mistake. What kind of woman do you think I am?" 

I yawned and looked at her. "Too easy," I said. "Why are you here?"

"Steve we need to talk about this," she said. "If we don't talk it out, we'll never get back together."

"What the fuck makes you think that I want to get back together?" I asked. 

"Steve, you love me," she said. "I love you too. We belong together. We can get over this. It's really not what you think. It's pretty stupid and it really doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, it kind of does," I said. "It means that our marriage is over. It means we won't be growing old together or having kids together. But after our divorce you can do whatever the fuck you want. Actually, I'm done with you now. You can do whatever you want, now." 

"You're blowing this whole thing out of proportion," she said. "Can't I just explain it to you?" 

"Why?" I asked. "Maybe you need closure or something. I don't. Maybe you need to explain why this happened so you can blame shift it until it's my fault. I don't need to know the hows or the whys. I don't give a bubbly fart about why you cheated on me and destroyed what I thought was a good marriage. The only thing that matters now is that we're done!" 

"Well ..." she said. "I can see you're still too bitter to talk. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Don't bother," I said. "I'm sure it'll take longer than that."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's going to take a while for you to get over this too," she said. 

"I'm not going to get over it," I said. "I was talking about how long it's going to take for me to find a lawyer to start the divorce and get the papers ready." 

She started laughing at that. "You're not going to divorce me," she laughed. "You're hurt and angry and confused, but you still love me. And I have to admit that on thinking about it, I was wrong as hell and very selfish. But I love you just as much as you love me and I swear to you that it will never happen again." 

I turned to go inside of the house. And she leaned over and kissed the side of my neck. I pushed her away so hard she almost fell off of the porch. Then I closed the door and put the chain on it. The first thing Monday morning I'd get all of the locks changed. 

I went up the stairs and took a shower. I dressed in my favorite old cargo shorts and a Mustang Alley T-shirt. I went out in the back onto our deck and looked around at the yard. If Sarah had been here, she'd have been all over my ass about cutting the grass. If she had her way I would probably cut the fuckin' grass every two days. She loved to sit out here on the deck or spend time in the hot tub. She had landscaped the shit out of our yard. Even I had to admit it was beautiful. 

We often had breakfast or dinner out on that deck and we were ...

"Steve is the hot tub ready? I am definitely going to be taking advantage of that tonight so you and Rick had better get all of your God Damned car talk over before we get in!" screamed a voice over the fence separating my yard from the next one. 

I looked over and a head popped up over the six foot privacy fence between our yards. It was Georgia, the wife of the asshole who'd fucked Sarah. Georgia at forty-five years old was probably one of the friendliest, most outgoing women I knew. She was equal parts mom and neighborhood cop, but there was just something about her that was beyond either. Georgia was a miracle on two legs. 

She could come over on a day when you just felt like shit and have you end up thinking it was the best day of your life. 

"Huh?" I said. 

"Remember, this evening is the neighborhood barbecue?" she said. "Sarah volunteered your hot tub for after dinner drop by usage. I will be one of those dropping by for usage." 

She looked over at me and just beamed. "Too many midnight shifts Huh, Stevie?" she asked. "I used to be a nurse, remember? I know what it's like. Before you know it you'll have a day shift position. Just hang in there, Honey." 

I had forgotten about the barbecue. But the idea of being around people and actually thinking about something other than how pissed I was at Sarah sounded good. 

I jumped in my Mustang and drove over to the neighborhood Kroger store. It was closer than Meijers and their prices were better. 

I bought a bouquet of roses and a couple of bottles of wine. I drove home, grabbed a couple of nice steaks and then went over to the neighbor across the street's house. Brian and his wife Alicia were really nice. I could smell the meat on the grill before I got into their yard. 

As I entered the yard, looking for Brian or Alicia, something flashed across the corner of my eye that caused almost everyone in the yard to howl with laughter. All I heard was the bushes in the yard next door moving and the sounds of someone screaming in pain. 

"Oh my God," laughed Brian, coming over to shake my hand. "You guys and your practical jokes! Come on Steve. I assume those flowers are for my wife. She's over there." 

I handed him the steaks and delivered the flowers to his pretty wife who was holding court in their large gazebo. 

"Thank you sooo much, Steve," said Alicia, accepting the flowers. Several of the ladies with her looked on jealously. 

"Steve," asked Mary Sue Willis, Alicia and Brian's next door neighbor. "What's the joke? I just don't get it. Actually I'm not sure whether or not to be pissed off or not." 

"What Joke?, Ma'am?" I asked politely. Mary Sue was older than most of us so I always called her "Ma'am," and her husband Frank, "Sir," out of politeness. 

"We were all sitting here having a great time. Rick was sitting over there talking to his wife Georgia. He's been acting kind of squirrelly since he got here. He kept looking around and looking over his shoulder. As soon as someone said you were coming into the yard, that asshole ran across the lawn and dove over the fence into my God Damned rose bushes. From the way he was screaming, I'll bet he got a bunch of thorns in his fuckin' ass; fuckin' bastard. If he knew how hard it was to get those plants in that kind of shape," she said. Her voice got angrier with each word. 

"Mary Sue, I'm very sorry," I said. "You've seen our yard. So you know that we've spent a lot of time with our plants too. I have no idea why Rick did that. I haven't spoken to him in a few days. I've been working a lot of midnight shifts in the ER. I'm not a part of any jokes. But he and I have been working on that project car of his ... Or I've been working on it anyway. Rick doesn't know which end of a wrench is which. He does owe me money for parts, so maybe he was trying to avoid me." 

"Well you tell that fucker that I'm gonna bust his ass if he damaged my roses," she said. 

"Yes Ma'am," I said. "If I talk to him I'll definitely tell him."

I walked across the yard and sat down next to Georgia, who'd been looking at me the whole time I'd been in the yard. 

"Hey, Georgia," I said. 

"Hi, Honey. Where's your other half? And what the hell is going on with you and my doofus?" she asked. "You guys aren't playing that squirt pistol assassin thingy again are you? If either one of you gets my hair wet I'll kill both of you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. "No games as far as I know."

She looked me up and down as if she could scan me by looking at me. "Where's Sarah?" she asked again. 

"She's staying with her parents for a while," I said. 

"And it's killing you isn't it?" she asked. "You look miserable."

"I guess I am a little down," I said. 

"So go over there and visit her," she smiled. "Turn the hot tub on for me before you leave, okay?" 

"Georgia, going over there is the last thing on earth that I want to do," I sighed. 

"Ohhh ..." she said. "We're arguing are we? Ooooh weeee ... Trouble in paradise. It's about time. You guys have been married for ten years, Honey. It's about time the honeymoon ended. The easy part is over. Now you have to put in the work and turn the romance into a real marriage." 

She gently rubbed my shoulder and her touch was like magic. Tears filled my eyes and slowly rolled down my cheeks. Georgia suddenly sneezed very loudly. "Sorry Stevie," she said loudly and then wiped my face with her napkin. 

"Get up, put a big smile on your face, excuse yourself and meet me at your place," she whispered to me. I did as she asked. I got up and had a big smile for everyone around us. 

"Go get that wife of yours," Georgia said loudly enough for anyone listening to hear her. I just nodded and headed for the gate and out of the yard. I crossed the street, headed for home, realizing that going to the barbecue had been a mistake. Clearly, I wasn't as strong or as unaffected by Sarah's cheating as I had thought. I saw Georgia heading into her house and I went into mine. I sat down at the kitchen table and wondered what I had done wrong. 

Before I came up with any answers, someone was gently knocking at my back door. 

"What's taking you so long?" asked Georgia. I stepped out onto the deck and she smiled. She pointed at the hot tub. I turned it on and noticed that she had changed into one of those "mom type" swimsuits. It had a long cover-up and was cut very high on the neck with ruffles over her boobs. It was also cut low enough that the bottom looked like it had shorts. There were ruffles around the waist too. 

She got into the tub and the look of bliss that took over her face made me smile. "God that feels good," she moaned. "I wish your buddy wasn't so God Damned cheap. I would definitely have one of these." 

"Georgia, my hot tub is your hot tub," I said. 

"So what did she do?" she asked in a quiet voice. 

"How do you know she did something?" I asked. 

"After being married for twenty years, I have a Phd in marital dynamics," she smirked. "If YOU had done something SHE would have thrown YOU out of the house. Did she do something really bad like scratching your car? Or is it something a normal person would get pissed off about?" She looked at me waiting for me to bear my soul, or at least to spill my guts. 

"She cheated on me," I said. Georgia sucked in a big gasp and stared at me with eyes as big a dinner plates. 

"Oh Honey," she cooed. "I am soooo sorry. I had no idea it was that bad. I thought it was ..." She took my hand and started rubbing it. She pulled me over to her and hugged me. 

"That asshole I married," she spat. I was shocked. I wondered whether or not Georgia was psychic. I had decided not to tell her. I was in a lot of emotional pain but I didn't want Georgia or her kids hurt. 

"Some best friend he is," she spat. "Now it all makes sense. That's why the motherfucker dove into those God damned rose bushes isn't it? He knows that Sarah cheated on you and like a typical man ... He's avoiding you while you're upset. What is it with you men? The two of you spend almost all of your free time together. You're either playing golf of going fishing or working on that car of his that you two are building. And it's mostly you doing the building. Rick can barely change a light bulb.  

But like most men he's so afraid of any real emotions that he's avoiding you until you have it under control. Just wait until I get home to his dumb ass." I just nodded. As much as I felt like ratting that bastard out, I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt Georgia and her kids. She was too nice a lady for that. She deserved better. I would suffer alone to save her. 

"Stevie, trust me," she said. "I know that right now you are in a lot of pain. Have you given any thought to how you're going to handle this?" 

"Yep," I said. "Monday morning, I'm going to find myself a good lawyer and file for divorce."

She looked shocked. "Stevie are you sure that's your best option?" she asked. "Is this the only time she's ever cheated on you?" 

"Shit... why would there ever be a second time?" I asked in shock. 

"Stevie, listen to me," she said. "The two of you are barely thirty. And you're very lucky. The wine and roses stage of your marriage lasted for ten God damned years. That's incredible. The two of you walked around with stars in your eyes for longer than a lot of marriages last. Have you ever heard about the seven year itch? It's real and somehow the two of you managed to just skip it. Again, Honey, that is incredible. Every time I see the two of you together, I get jealous. You two love each other so God damned much." 

"Oh yeah," I spat. "She loved me so God damned much that she would do anything for me. Anything except keep other men out of that hole of hers." 

"Steve you've got your tenses all screwed up, Honey," she said. "You said that she "LOVED," you. As of yesterday when I last saw her, she still loves you as much as ever. She even told me so. I don't think she got over a love that deep over night. You also said "MEN," do you have any proof that she was with more than one man?" 

"Georgia, if she loved me she wouldn't have cheated on me," I said. "And as far as I know there was only one man, but who knows how many times she's done this? For all I know she could have been having gangbangs every time I was out. Why the hell didn't she just ask me for a divorce?" 

"Honey, I don't think any of those things are true," she said. "We're human. Sarah is human. Humans make mistakes. Maybe after ten years she just got curious about something or someone else. Maybe she was drunk. But as to the last part ... I can answer that. But you don't have to hear it from me. Go back to the party and ask any woman there who knows Sarah, if she wants to divorce you. They'll laugh you out of the place. Sometimes we women all sit around and talk about stupid things just like you guys do.

We talk about the things we love the most. We talk about the things we want the most and the things we are the proudest of. Sarah loves you more than anything on earth. The thing she wants the most is to grow old with you, dummy. And the thing she is the most proud of is to be YOUR wife. Stevie, you are that girl's whole world and you know it."

"Bullshit," I spat. "She's been lying to all of us for all of this time. I've never cheated on her. And she was my whole world too. Everything I've done since I met her has all been for her. I can't stop thinking about her. Only now, when I do think about her I see her with her legs spread for that asshole. He can have her. She's not mine anymore." 

"So you're just going to give up and let HIM, whoever he is take her from you?" she laughed. 

"Nope," I spat. "He doesn't have to take her. I am giving her to him with my blessings. Like you said, I'm young enough to start over and get it right next time." 

"That's the pain talking," she said. 

"How do you know, Georgia?" I asked. "It's not your marriage that just went up in flames." 

"No, Honey, it's not," she said. "My marriage is a lot stronger than that. It would take a lot more than Rick getting some strange pussy to tear my family apart. Things wouldn't be too pleasant for him for a while, but we would make it through. And as far as how I know ... I know because it's already happened ... TWICE." It was my turn to be shocked then. 




Don't Get Mad, Get Even



"But you two seem to get along so well," I sputtered. 

"That's the difference between LOVE and LIKE," she said. "Love lets you separate the person from the shit they do. Love makes you accept a person and all of their flaws and forgive them when they slip. Like makes you drop a person as soon as you discover that 'A,' they aren't perfect, and 'B,' they've fucked up really badly. 

The first time Rick cheated on me, we had been married for almost exactly seven years. He started acting really strange and overdoing all of the niceties. He was working way too hard to be nice to me, the bastard even put up with my mother and he hates the fuck out of her. It turned out that he had fucked some stripper while he was on an out of town business trip. I might never have known had he not brought me home an STD. 

I threw him out of the house and refused to speak to him for three months. Even after we finally got back together and I let him come home we slept apart for another six months. Every chance I got, I stuck it to him. We would have a wonderful dinner at my favorite restaurant for an occasion like our anniversary. Everything would be perfect. He would do the most romantic things he could think of. He'd lean over and kiss my hand and tell me he loved me. And I would say something like, "Why? ... Can't you find another stripper?" 

It took 8 years and two kids before I really relaxed. And then he blasted me between the eyes again. I went through his phone and found a bunch of text messages between him and his high-school sweetheart. We were in counseling for almost two years. I discovered a lot of shit that time. We'd been married for 15 years and there were things that we didn't know about each other. There were things that I did that just emasculated Rick. I had almost thrown him into the arms of that bitch by the way that I treated him. 

She came along and built his ego up while I was still tearing him down over shit that had been over for years. If our home life was a workplace, I would have been sued for harassment. I had made our home a hostile environment for Rick. Every chance I got I was still busting his balls even though neither of us could even remember the stripper's name. I would withhold sex from him at the drop of a hat. I called him names. I did everything I could to make him feel worthless. I figured he deserved it. 

The thing our therapist did that helped us the most was really shitty. He asked to see our home. He actually came over for dinner. Rick, the kids and I were on our best behavior of course. The dinner went well. "So the two of you CAN be civil," said the therapist. I wondered what that was supposed to prove. 

What neither Rick nor I knew was that the therapist had bugged our kitchen and living room with a couple of those tiny cameras. When we went back to our session six weeks later, he played some unedited video for us. It was eye opening. 

I had never realized what a bitch I had become. Without the therapist, during our normal meals and interactions I was merciless. If Rick complimented me on a meal I cooked, I lashed out at him and never made it again. If he told me about something good that had happened to him at work, i belittled him or whatever he had done. I called him names and insulted him for no reason. 

If something bad happened to him, and he'd told me about it hoping for some kind of compassion from the woman who loved him and had vowed to be with him till death do us part ... I ... I told him he deserved it. Steve Rick was almost killed in an accident at one of the plants he worked in. When one of his coworkers who had to drive him home, stood there in my kitchen telling me how close I'd come to almost losing my husband. I laughed that it was too bad it was almost. 

But that wasn't my lowest point. My lowest point came during what was supposedly the worst snow storm Michigan had seen in over twenty years. For a while I was having migraine headaches. They were so bad that I almost couldn't see when they struck. I took a prescription pain reliever for them. And I had run out. Rick and I were sitting by the fireplace when my headache started. The snow was piled up so high that he'd barely gotten home. He reached over and tried to kiss me. I slapped him so hard that it left a mark. You could see the hand print on his face in the video. 

"I have a headache," I yelled at him. I went up to our bedroom and you could hear the door slam on the audio track. I called him all kinds of names. It took more than two hours before I went back downstairs. I heard something tapping at the door. I looked out and didn't see anything so I went back upstairs. I hadn't given Rick a thought. Almost twenty minutes later I got a call. Our next door neighbor, the guy you bought your house from told me there was someone on our porch. I screamed for Rick to see who it was. He didn't answer me, so I decided to get the door myself, but I was going to make his life hell. 

When I opened the door Rick fell into the house. He was almost unconscious. But I didn't care. 

"Where's your key, dumbass?" I laughed. "Did you leave it at some whore's house?" 

"S-s-so cold. Fingers don't work," he said. "Thanks for let-letting m-m me in." 

"There's a blizzard out there, stupid ass," I said. "Only an absolute moron would go out in that." 

"P p pocket p p please," he stuttered. "He looked as if he was really out of it. At that point I hadn't tried to help him up or even closed the door. His legs were still out on the porch in the snow. 

"What's in here, used condoms?" I asked. I felt though both of his coat-pockets and pulled out my headache pills. He had walked five miles in a blizzard to get them. Rick ended up getting really sick but I didn't care. I never even said thanks. I just continued to snap at him. 

"I know why you went and got my pills," I snapped. "We were lying there in front of that fire and you thought we were gonna have sex. Well you can fucking forget that. I'm not one of your whores." 

He looked at me, Stevie, and a rock would have melted with what he said. "I know that," he said. "We only do it when YOU want to. I just wanted you to feel better. Your pills take some of your pain away." 

I was confused. I didn't know what to say. "Fuck you, Rick," I told him and left him there on the floor. 

As I said we missed a bunch of sessions. Because of Rick's frostbite and pneumonia, it was almost six weeks before we went back. The therapist played all of the videos' for us. Rick sat there unmoved by it. The therapist watched my every move. I made him stop the video several times. I was in tears long before it ended. 

"Rick, why the hell do you put up with that?" I asked him. "What you did was bad, it was very bad, but the way I've treated you is far worse. I never realized I was doing it. Why didn't you leave?" 

He just looked at me. "People make mistakes," he said. "I should know. My mistakes are what got us here in the first place. What I did was wrong ... Very wrong, but you never left me. And ... I love you Georgia. I know I get stupid from time to time. I've done it twice now. But there has never been anyone I loved nearly as much as I love you. You're my life." 

I ran out of the therapist's office. I was crying my eyes out and had no idea where I was going or what I would do when I got there. I was older than you are now, Stevie. I'd been married for fifteen years and had three kids by Rick, but that was the day I found out what real love was. I was amazed by how much that bastard loved me. For all of that time I'd been thinking that he didn't deserve me. But after watching that fucking video, I realized that maybe I didn't deserve him. People always talk about what they would do for the person they love. Rick had nearly died just to get my prescription filled. 

My temper just left me. My personality went back to normal. Well ... Almost. I did track down Rick's high-school sweetheart and beat the fuck out of her in front of her co-workers. The bitch had been divorced three times. She'd cheated on all of her husbands. 

I did have to get back at Rick before we could go back to normal. But since I couldn't get mad at him, I got even. There was a college kid who cut our grass and did painting and chores for us every once in a while. I waited for Rick to go off on one of his business trips and spent an entire day fucking that boy's brains out. He was twenty one years old but I wore him out. And that's the way I handle it now. I know that Rick loves me. I know that he may not be as romantic as you are, but there is nothing he won't do for me. I also know that he is going to have the occasional slip. So when he does, I don't threaten to divorce him or kick him out of the house. I just get even." 

"So that's it?" I said. "The wisdom of the ages is that true love doesn't really exist. Everyone is going to cheat, so when your spouse cheats, you just cheat too?" 

"Steve, I know what I've told you doesn't work for everyone," she said. "I guess I just wanted you to understand that Sarah making a mistake doesn't have to end your marriage. You think about it some, Honey, okay?" 

The next morning, I hit Home Depot and got new locks for the front, side and rear doors. Home Depot is open very early in the morning and I was accustomed to being up all night, so I was there when they opened. 

By seven thirty, I had the front and side door locks changed. I figured I was good since only the front door was accessible from outside of our six foot privacy fence. I wasn't actually worried about being robbed. The only person I was worried about was the one who had a key to the old locks. 

I decided that I could change the rear door locks and get the garage remotes recoded the next day. I went out for a short run in the early morning breezes and came back refreshed. I was just getting out of the shower when I heard someone yanking and trying to get in my front door and cursing. 

I went downstairs and saw Sarah trying to get in. 

"Hi Sweetheart," she said. "I stopped by to make breakfast for you and grab a few things. Maybe we could ..."

"I don't think we could," I interrupted. "Look Sarah, I'll let you in so you can grab more of your things. But I'm not ready to talk to you yet. It's just too soon." 

"What about breakfast?" she asked. "I know you just went out and ran, so you're probably starving."

"Sarah, I have to learn how to handle things like that myself," I said. "When this is all over I ..." 

"When this is all over, we'll be back together so I'll still be making your breakfast, Steven," she smiled. "Honestly, I wish you would just talk to me. Why are you putting us through all of this?" 

"Look, Sarah, you're the one who put us through all of this shit," I snarled. "So fuck you if your inability to keep your legs closed is causing an inconvenience for you. Just go upstairs, grab your shit and get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

My anger shocked her and she hesitated before speaking. "I'm sorry Steve," she said. "That's why we need to talk. We need to clear things up so your pain can end and we can get back together." 

"I already told you that I'm not ready to talk to you," I said. "We can talk after the divorce." 

"What fuckin' divorce?" she shrieked. "Who said anything about a divorce? Steve, you're taking this too far, Honey. I was wrong as hell, but this isn't worth getting a divorce over. Are you going to throw away ten wonderful years over a stupid fling? It was Rick for God's sake. He's no threat to us. He's almost fifty and balding. He has that stupid beer gut. He's also your best friend. The guy would take a bullet for you, so there's no way he would ever tell anyone. Don't you love me anymore?" She had almost fallen off of the porch as she screamed and reeled drunkenly.

"I do now," I said guardedly. "But I'm working on it as hard as I can." 

"Then why do you want a divorce?" she asked. She was almost hysterical. "Do you really want us apart? It hurts me so bad not to be here with y ... What the fuck do you mean you're working on it? Are you trying NOT to love me?" I nodded. 

"But why?" she whined. She sounded so pathetic that I felt almost sorry for her. Then I remembered ten years of busting my ass for her, only to have her cheat on me, and any sympathy I felt evaporated. 

"You cheated on me," I said. "You ruined our marriage. You DESTROYED our relationship. You took something pure and beautiful and you just shit all over it. Right now it's something broken and bleeding. And what will we have if we do manage to put it back together? It will be something really ordinary." 

"But we love each other," she whined. 

"We had that and so much more," I said. "We trusted each other implicitly. I can't trust you anymore. And one of the things that made us so God Damned special was the fact that we had this bond. You were like my other half. You were mine alone. You belonged to ME, Sarah. Why the fuck do you think I always called you MY Sarah. Even to your parents." 

"But ..." she sniffed and wiped away the tears. "I'm still ..." 

"Don't say it Sarah," I said. "We both know it isn't true anymore." 

"But I promise you, Steve. It didn't mean anything. It was only sex. There was no love involved either way. I only love you and he only loves Georgia. I swear I'm still yours. And I always will be." 

"There are two problems with that," I said. "The first is that you cheated on me so we've already established that I can't trust you. So you could be lying when you say that. The second is besides you declaring that you're mine, I have to want you. And I'm not sure I do anymore. Sarah you're not the woman I fell in love with any more. You're just ..." 

"A fucking skank in the grass," screamed Georgia from behind us. "You fucking Bitch. We were friends. Why the fuck would you go after Rick? Out of all the men in the world you went after my fucking husband. I should kick your fu ..." Georgia ran back next door as she saw Rick trying to sneak off down the street. 

"See, now you've ruined two marriages," I said. "Go on into the house and get your stuff and then please leave. I'll be in the garage until you're gone. There's no need to let me know when you leave. Just close the door on your way out." She just nodded with huge tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"I guess you didn't really love me as much as you claimed, you liar," she cried. "All I did was give someone some pussy and all of a sudden, I'm not yours anymore. It's not the end of the world you know. It's not like it's the last pussy I'm ever going to give. It's not like I'm going to run out. If you're so concerned with my pussy why aren't you in it right now?"

"You really don't understand this at all, do you?" I said, shaking my head. I turned towards the garage. 

"Then talk to me, Steve," she said. "Explain it to me. Talk to me. Make me see it your way. Convince me." 

"I told you when you first got here that I didn't want to talk to you," I said. "It's too early. The pain is too fresh. I know that we have to talk, Sarah. But right now, I'm hurting too badly to think rationally. All we've done this morning is to make things worse. I wanted to protect Georgia. She didn't need to go through this. But now you've hurt her too. Go away, Sarah. Let me grieve in peace. Haven't you hurt me enough?" 

She burst into tears and ran away. She got onto her car and finally drove away. For the rest of the day I puttered around the house until I had to go to bed to get some sleep before my Sunday night midnight shift at the hospital. 

My night was normal. When you look at it my job is pretty bizarre. I wait around for someone to get hurt, then I help take care of them when they come into the ER. My way of taking care of them is to shoot beams of ionizing radiation at them to determine the extent of their injuries. 

For A summer Sunday night it was pretty quiet. It gave me a lot of time to think. I thought a lot about two things. The first was the look of pain on Sarah's face. She'd really believed that I loved her enough to try to get past what she had done. 

The second thing I thought about was what Georgia had told me. In our short time talking, Georgia had told me a lot. But two things stood out from the rest. The first was the difference between love and like. Real love involved caring for the person so much that you accepted their flaws and mistakes. As much as I wanted to believe that. As true as it sounded, Sarah made the third time that Rick had cheated on Georgia. There was no way that a sane person would put up with that. I know I wouldn't. 

Georgia had told me something else that was interesting. She'd said what basically amounted to "don't get mad, get even." Now that was something I could embrace. In the early morning hours, I found myself thinking about ways to get even with Rick. 

A patient gave me the idea. He'd come in at about three in the morning with a broken hand. He was a maintenance man at a school and he worked the overnight shift. The air conditioning unit had been malfunctioning and he was working on it. The unit had large metal doors that closed vertically. The strut that was supposed to keep the door up when it was being serviced got knocked out of position when he reached for a wrench and the large metal door slammed closed on his hand. 

He ended up with three fractured metacarpals. He was in a lot of pain and his left hand would be in a cast for six to eight weeks, but it could have been a lot worse. After he left all I could do was smile. 

My shift is called a midnight shift but it isn't really a traditional midnight shift. I don't start at midnight and work until eight. I start at eleven p.m. and work until seven a.m. So at seven a.m. when I left the hospital I already knew what I would be doing that day. I stopped off at Home Depot again. But this time I was looking for one particular item. I bought a roll of very thin, very strong monofilament line. It was just like a fishing line except thinner. It was like the stuff they use for movie effects and puppet shows. And I had a puppet in mind. 

Almost as soon as I drove into my driveway I went into action. I studied Rick's house and heard very little activity coming from it. It was only about seven forty and I knew Rick's schedule about as well as I knew mine. He would leave the house at eight o' clock and arrive at his job in a downtown office building by eight-thirty. That way he could shoot the shit with his co-workers for a half hour or so before he started work at nine. It was a good habit because during Michigan's terrible winters it gave him an extra thirty minute cushion for those snowy days when weather and road conditions could delay him. 

I worked on switching out the lock on the back door of my house while I stared at Rick's garage. Rick did a lot of things to copy what I did. Like me he kept his lawn mower and yard tools in a shed. Shit, he'd bought the same shed I did, the week after I bought mine. It sat in his yard in three big boxes until I helped him put it up. 

Having the shed meant that like mine his garage was the home for his car only. And not the car he drove. Rick and I were working on a 1970 Chevelle SS 454. The Chevelle had been a beast back then in the original muscle era. The car had been rated at around four hundred horsepower in the ads. But everyone who knew cars back then knew that GM, in an era of increasing unhappiness with high horsepower-low gas mileage cars, had under rated the car's performance. The engine's actual output was reported to be between 470 and five hundred horsepower. 

That was incredible back then and more than respectable now. Sure there are a lot of cars nowadays, including my Mustang that eclipse five hundred horses. But most of them do it with superchargers or turbos. The Chevelle's performance came from the motor only and that is impressive even now. 




Don't Get Mad, Get Even



The Chevelle needed a lot of work and an equal amount of love when Rick got it. Originally, Georgia told him to get rid of it. "Either sell it or just give it away," she said. "You don't know shit about cars, Rick."

Eventually both Rick's and my begging and pleading got to her and the deal was that as long as he was working on it, the car could stay. But she wanted to see regular progress and if he went two weeks without doing something on the car, it had to go. 

So for the last year and a half, Rick and I went out to the garage at least four or five days a week. It was as good for me as it was for him. It took my mind off of school and the pressure I was under to perform there. And for Rick, he got something to brag about and when we were done he would have a hell of a car. 

I had often heard Georgia telling Sarah that she blamed me for the car. "Rick was never interested in cars until he started hanging out with Steve. And now that we were no longer friends Rick's dumb ass would still have to work on the car. But he had no idea what to do, how to do it, or why to do it. He had no idea where to even go to find out what he needed to do. 

Knowing Rick the way I did, I knew what he would do. He would go out to the garage several times a week and make noise and pretend he was working on the car. And that was how I would get him. 

As soon as Rick's came out of his house to head for work I watched him. He looked over at my house longingly and I wondered. Did he miss me and our friendship, or did he miss fucking my wife?

He looked very subdued as he got into his car and drove away. I guessed that Georgia had taken a chunk out of his ass when she finally caught up to him. I wondered again how she could put up with it. Even if I could manage to wrap my head around the concept of forgiving Sarah, there was no fucking way I could do it three times. 

I ran upstairs to my bathroom and looked into their house. Georgia was heading into her bathroom. Knowing the layout of their house from being in it hundreds of times I saw her grabbing clothes in their bedroom and heading into the connected bathroom. The bathroom itself had frosted glass windows so I couldn't see in there. But I wasn't trying to perve on Georgia. I just needed to know where she was and how long she would be there. 

So I dashed back down the stairs, grabbed my roll of fishing line and climbed over the fence into their yard. I quickly went into the garage and very loosely tied the end of the fishing line around the Chevelle's hood prop. I also pulled the hood prop out of the hole in the heavy metal hood that supported it when it was in the up position. 

At first I was in trouble. I couldn't get the prop to stay in position. Then I notice a tiny dent in the metal, about two inches further back. I gently seated the top of the prop in the dent and it held but very precariously. I strung the fishing line out of the garage's side window and over the top of my privacy fence. I then ran the line to my deck and wrapped it around the arm of one of my deck chairs several times. I cut and tied the line there. 

I stepped away from the chair and even from a few feet away. I could barely notice the line. If I could barely see it and I knew it was there, I was sure that someone who didn't know to look for it would never notice it. 

As I went into the house and made breakfast, I had a smile on my face. As I slept, I dreamed of Sarah. In some of the dreams she was still my Sarah. But in others I dreamed of her fucking my ex best friend and calling me all kinds of names. When I woke at about five in the afternoon, I was bewildered. 

I heard Rick's car stereo as he pulled into the driveway. He looked as if he was about to come over to my house, but he turned and went into his own. It was just before six p.m. I had about four hours before I needed to head for work. 

A few moments after Rick had gone inside his house, the screaming started. Rick and Georgia were at it again. Georgia was calling him every name in the book and Rick was back peddling and apologizing. Finally Georgia screamed at him to get out of her sight. Rick told her again that he was sorry and he loved her. He swore that it would never happen again. Then he said something that I found interesting. "She came after me," he whined. "I told her no at first, but she kept after me. I'm fifty, Georgia. It was too flattering to have a woman that young begging me for it." 

"So you were so flattered that you forgot you had a wife and three kids, huh?" She spat. "You were so flattered that you forgot about how much it would hurt your best God Damned friend, huh?" 

"I'm sorry Georgia," he whined. 

"I guess you forgot about how long it took us to get over the last time you did this, huh?" she asked. "Maybe, we won't make it after all. Maybe, I should do what Steve is doing and see an attorney about a divorce." 

"Please, Georgia," he whined. "Anything but that. I can't lose you and my kids. I know I don't deserve it, but can I have one last chance. Georgia, I love you more than anything. It's been years since I made a mistake. It won't ever happen again." 

"Just get the fuck away from me," she hissed. 

"I'm going out to the garage to work on the car," he said. Georgia's laughter was louder than her screams had been. 

"Why?" she asked. "We all know that you don't know how to do anything on that car without Steve being there. You'll probably just fuck that up like you have our family." 

"I just wanted you to know where I was," he said. "I love you Georgia. Until you trust me again, I won't go anywhere or do anything without telling you where I am." 

"Just get away from me Rick," she said. 

Rick went out into his garage and I too hoped he wouldn't fuck the car up. I watched him from my deck. My deck was built on two levels. There was a small area with a few chairs that led to three steps that descended to the level of the rest of the deck. Our back porch had been so high that building the entire deck at the height of the back porch and back door would have required a lot more lumber to make it stable. It would have also required much more maintenance. 

But the good thing was that I could actually see over the fence and into Rick's garage. Georgia and Sarah had often sat on that higher area of the deck to watch Rick and I, while they talked. They often sent us pizza and watched as we wondered who had ordered it. But that had been in happier times. 

As I watched Rick puttering around his garage, I was almost giddy. I was so intent on watching Rick and waiting for him to do what I wanted him to do that I failed to even notice when my fence opened and Georgia stepped into my yard. 

"You and I need to have a talk, Mister," she said suddenly. "You knew all along, who that skanky bitch had cheated with, but you didn't tell me ... Why?" As she stared at me, her anger caused her chest to expand and contract with her elevated breathing rate. All Georgia wore at that moment was a T-shirt, with what had to be an industrial strength bra under it. Suddenly I understood what they meant in all of those romance novels by heaving bosom. Georgia was barely over five feet tall. I had always thought that she was plump, but now I could see that it was simply modesty. 

She normally wore clothes, like a lot of women of her generation, to disguise her body or hide her lines. I remembered back a couple of days ago to the swimsuit she'd worn in the hot tub. All of those ruffles and that stupid long leg line of the suit hid, instead of showed off her curves. 

At forty five years old, Georgia was no spring chicken, but her body could have belonged to one. Her big boobs were definitely springy if not chicken-y. She'd had three kids so I'm not going to say that she had a tiny waist. But her stomach was flat and taught and she had those child bearing hips. Georgia's ass wasn't as big as Sarah's, but those wide hips were astoundingly sexy. Her legs were tight and well shaped and ...

"Say something, Steve!" she ordered pulling me out of staring at her body. 

"Georgia ..." I uttered. Then nothing. 

"Steve, this may surprise you but I've known my name since before I was one year old," she spat. "What I don't know is why the fuck you didn't tell me. The funny part is that I felt so badly for you. I felt like you and I had a connection, when we talked. I felt as if we'd become better friends because of our shared experiences. But obviously I was the only one who felt it. For you guys the old boy network always fuckin' wins. Don't sell out your boys ... Right? Even when your BOY is the one stabbing you in the back. Can't violate that Bro Code. Bros before Hos, right?" 

"Georgia, shut up," I said. "You have the whole thing wrong." 

It was a really weird moment. I was trying not to stare at her body. I was also trying to keep my eyes on her asshole of a husband and he had just gotten into the position I wanted him in. 

"Georgia, you weren't wrong," I said. "I felt it too. I felt so much better about everything when we talked. You did that for me. And when you told me about how you felt and what you did when Rick cheated on you I felt so sorry for you. You are a beautiful lady and an even more beautiful person. I just couldn't do it to you. Somewhere down deep in my heart I didn't want you to be hurt again. I was already in pain, why should I give that same pain to someone who was only trying to help me. Sure I wanted revenge against that asshole and against Sarah too. But I didn't want to get it by dragging you into the abyss with me." She just stared at me and her face softened. 

"Like you said, Georgia, you have three kids with him. Three young kids, none of whom is even twelve years old. The two of you can't just split up and wreck your family. So as angry as you get over him, this will not be a deal breaker. Your kids deserve to grow up in a complete home. So why should I do something or tell you something to make your life worse. I guess I thought I was being a friend. I was trying to spare you some pain by just taking it all by myself. I guess I thought I was suffering for both of us. What they did was bad enough. I thought it would be better with only one victim. I'm so sorry, Georgia." Her eyes filled with tears and she reached out to me for a hug. And just as we made contact, I yanked my fishing line. We heard a crash as the Chevelle's big metal hood slammed down like lightning striking the earth. 

Rick's earsplitting shriek of pain happened almost simultaneously. He kept screaming and Georgia and I both reacted. She reacted to his screams on an instinctive level. I reacted because I was a trained medical person. Even before Georgia was off of the deck I had bolted straight to the fence and scrambled over the six foot structure. 

Georgia had to go through the gate and back around to her house and through her gate. But the time she got there and went over to Rick I was inside of the car pulling the hood release. As soon as I released it, I flipped the catch and pulled the hood up. 

Rick moaned in pain and tried to tuck his hands under his armpits. "Rick, stop moving your hands," I yelled. "Georgia, go get me some towels!" 

Georgia turned and headed for her house. I saw the faces of her kids in the back doorway. Those innocent little faces brimmed with curiosity and fear. 

I sat Rick down and tried to examine his hands. He was sweating and had trouble remaining still. "Stop moving God damn it!" I yelled at him. 

I looked at his hands. They were both mangled and swelling rapidly. But they were intact. "The good news ..." I said just as Georgia ran up with a stack of towels. "... is that you haven't lost any fingers you have deep gashes on both hands." 

I felt his hands and shook my head. "Rick, I think you have several broken bones on each hand. Georgia, get me a lot of ice and any pain killers you have. Rick, get up. I'm taking you to the ER." 

I slowly walked him towards his car. He leaned on me heavily. His hands hurt so badly that he could barely walk. Georgia met us in their driveway with the ice and ran back in the house for the painkillers. 

"He doesn't seem to be in a lot of pain," she said. 

"He's in shock," I told her. "Trust me, in a few minutes he'll be screaming his head off." I packed Rick's hands in ice and wrapped the towels around them. I made him swallow a handful of Tylenol as soon as Georgia brought them. Georgia ran her kids over to the house across the street and got Mary Sue to watch them. Several of our neighbors were outside and watching us. Georgia came back and got into the car with us and we took off for the hospital. 

When we got to the ER, I got one of the residents to look at Rick immediately. I told him what had happened and he noticed something that I hadn't. Rick had a huge bruise on the side of his head. The hood had obviously hit his head before it closed on his hands. 

Rick was sent to CT to have his head looked at. They would rule out any type of head trauma and then we'd take care of his hands. One of the nurses that I had never seen before started an IV pain killer on him. They would need it to keep Rick calm and stable so he didn't move during the CT. 

The doctor looked at me. "X-Ray his hands as soon as he's back from CT. I didn't get a chance to do a thorough examination because of his pain and the head wound. But he has at least one mis-aligned metacarpal fracture. I'm calling the Ortho guys to have them ready." 

"I'm on it," I said. "I'm going to change into scrubs and do it myself." 

"You work here?" asked the new nurse. I just nodded. She was really pretty. Georgia pulled me over to the side and started asking me questions. I explained everything that was going on to her and had her sit in the waiting room. I went to the locker room and changed into my spare set of scrubs and went back down to the ER.

Rick hadn't gotten back from CT yet when I got to the X-Ray room. My supervisor was on duty. She was doing a chest X-Ray on an older woman when I walked in. 

"Hey, you're really early," she smiled. "You aren't supposed to relieve me for about four hours." 

I explained everything to her. "I'll probably do his exams and then take him and his wife home and come back at my normal time," I said. 

"Or you could take the night off," she said. "I can always call one of the contingent or part timers to come in. They'd be glad to have the hours." 

"Not on a Sunday night at midnight," I said. "Besides, with everything going on between Sarah and me, I need a heavy dose of normal and regular in my life. Work really helps." 

Rick's hands were worse than I thought. His injuries weren't life threatening though. The CT revealed that the swelling in his head was only a superficial contusion. His hands were terrible. He had mis-aligned fractures to the three central metacarpals on both hands. They all had to be reduced. Even with the pain killers, I was sure Rick went through a lot of pain. 

The pretty new nurse stuck to me like glue throughout the process. We watched as the orthopedic specialists set the fractures and casted both of Rick's hands. Georgia and I wheeled him out to the car in a wheel chair and took him home afterwards. Rick was so out of it from the painkillers that he fell asleep in the car.

"Thanks Stevie," Georgia said to me as we drove home. "I was so out of it. You handled everything so well." 

"It's just another night at work for me Georgia," I said. 

"Then you're really very fucking good at what you do," she said. "Everyone listened to you. You knew exactly what to do and what was going on. They started helping Rick as soon as we walked in and you started telling people what was going on. I hate to say this but Rick got special treatment because you were there. Some of the people I spoke to while I was in the waiting room had been there for a while already when we walked in. Rick is really lucky to have you as a friend." 

"Georgia, I wouldn't exactly call us friends," I spat. "You can't be friends with a guy who stabbed you in the back. I only helped him because it's what I was trained to do. If I had given it any thought, I probably would have just laughed at him." 

"No you wouldn't have," she said. "That isn't the kind of person you are. And our conversation from before is not over ... We still have a lot of things to talk about. Did that slut even tell you why she did it?" 

"I haven't really spoken to her very much," I said. "And I don't intend to." 

"Don't you want to know why?" she asked.

"Georgia, I don't think it matters," I said. "There is no reason I can think of to justify what they did. All her telling me would do is to give her some kind of closure or ease her mind. I don't give a damn about her unburdening herself and easing her suffering. What about my suffering? Fuck her!" 

"The asshole back there claims that she went after him," she said. "I would love to find out why? I mean come on ... I love him, but he's no sex symbol for God's sake. He's a balding fifty year old guy with a pot belly. Why the fuck would she go after him?" 

"Then you talk to her Georgia," I spat. "Just leave me out of it. I already have a list of divorce lawyers to call first thing in the morning." 

I drove us home and helped Georgia get Rick into the house and into bed. "I told him not to try to work on that fucking car without you," she said. She had tears on the corners of her eyes. "What an imbecile. He doesn't know shit about cars. He just wants to be one of the cool kids, even at his age. He just wants to fit in and be accepted. You like cars, so he liked cars too." 

"Georgia, it's going to be alright," I said. "In three months it'll all be over. Six to eight weeks and he can get the casts off. Then he'll do a couple of physical therapy sessions and some exercises to regain the strength and flexibility in his hands. After that he'll be back to normal. Or at least as normal as Rick can be." 

She hugged me again and I was embarrassed but I got an erection as she rubbed those big soft titties against me. 

"Don't forget to get his prescription filled. They had him on an IV drip of some very strong stuff at the hospital. When it runs through his system and the pain returns he's going to be screaming," I told her. 

I went home and grabbed something to eat. I checked my messages and deleted the ones from Sarah without bothering to listen to them. The whole time I had the biggest smile on my face. I took my food out on my deck and quickly pulled and reeled in my fishing line. I wrapped the small reel up in newspaper and threw it away deep in the bottom of my kitchen garbage can. 

With the evidence destroyed, there was no way anyone could link me to what happened. I also had the best witness in the world. I had been talking to the asshole's own wife and was nowhere near him when it happened. I was also the one to heroically rescue him during his injury and to give him first aid. 

I laughed thinking about his pain. But the one thing going through my mind was that it still wasn't enough. 

I went to work and was met with nothing but drama. Sarah showed up. She claimed she just wanted to make sure that I was okay. One of the neighbors had told her that I had been involved in some sort of accident and went to the hospital with Rick and Georgia. 

"It wasn't me," I said. "Rick broke his hands and needed stitches too. Sarah just go home." 

"Okay, Honey, I'll go home and wait for you," she said. "I need a key." 

"Sarah, when I said home, I meant your parents' house or your sister's apartment or wherever you're staying," I told her. "The more you pester me, the longer it'll be before I'm ready to talk to you." 

As she turned to leave, I heard a voice. "Hey X-Ray guy. I thought I should drop by and introduce myself." I recognized the new nurse's voice. It was melodic, very feminine and a touch high pitched. It was the kind of voice you can fall in love with. 




Don't Get Mad, Get Even



Sarah turned around and glared at her. The nurse ignored her. She actually brushed past Sarah and handed me a cup of coffee. "I'm Amanda Green. This is my second day working here. It's exciting!" she said. 

I stuck my hand out and accepted the coffee. "Thanks," I smiled. "I'm ..."

"Married ..." spat Sarah. She looked down at the form of the nurse and shook her head. "Amanda Green ..." she said mocking the nurse's friendly melodic tone. "I'll make you black and blue if you start anything with my husband." 

The nurse looked at Sarah as if appraising her. She looked back at me. She was about five foot three at the max. Everything about her was tiny except for her boobs. Her legs were very long and her hair was a very light blond. 

Something about that tiny woman and her big boobs spelled sex appeal. "Is she really your wife X-Ray guy?" she asked. 

"She used to be," I said. 

"Wanna talk about it over lunch?" she asked. I just nodded my head. 

"Is this some kind of revenge?" asked Sarah. "We'll go ahead Stevie. I know you're too much of a professional to screw Nurse Barbie at work. I'll see you tomorrow, Honey. Will you be ready to talk then?" I just ignored her and walked back into my office. 

Other than a few unscheduled visits from "Mandy," as Nurse Green told me to call her, nothing major happened Sunday night. I drove home with a lot of things on my mind. I was really angry at Sarah, who had called me several times during the night. One of those times, when she had called me to tell me that she was having a lot of trouble getting to sleep without me, I had hung up on her and then turned my phone off. 

I was also juggling my anger at Rick, for what he had done to me, with guilt over what I'd done to him. I had really given it a lot of thought. My anger at Rick wasn't as much because he had fucked Sarah, as it was because he had betrayed ME. We were best friends. You weren't supposed to do that to your best bud. What had Georgia called it, "the Bro code?" 

In a way this situation was simply filled with victims. Me, Georgia and even Rick in a way we're all losers, here. Georgia and I had been cheated on by our respective spouses. But if what Rick claimed was true, a balding fifty year old man, who was beginning to doubt his virility and appeal, would be no match for a really sexy thirty year old woman. And Sarah, with that big ass and her flirty demeanor would have had no problem getting most men to fuck her. The fact that Rick had resisted her initial attempts, said a lot about him. IF, all of that WAS true, then maybe Rick was just as much a victim as Georgia and I. 

And that was where my guilt came from. I'd been lucky in a way. I'd heard of a lot of cases where those old heavy sheet metal hoods had closed on hands with such force that the fingers had been severed. Looking back at things, Rick had been lucky that the hood had struck him in the head first and slowed it down. Then he was also lucky that his entire hands, both of them had been in the engine bay as opposed to just one or two fingers. It could have been much worse. 

I unlocked the door and went inside my house. I grabbed one of my Honey crisp apples off of the counter and headed out onto my deck. I signed as thoughts of my problems came rushing back. I have no idea how long I sat there with my eyes closed wondering why my life was falling apart. 

"It's about time you got home," said Georgia. "Come on inside and I'll make you some breakfast." 

"How's Rick?" I asked. There was no sign of anger or sarcasm in my voice and Georgia smiled at me and shook her head. 

"He has two broken hands," she smirked. "For the next two months the bastard will have to keep his hands to himself and off of women that don't belong to him. But as usual he's milking it. He's trying to play the martyr role hoping that it will help me forgive him for what did. And every time I start to talk about our problems he pretends to be in so much pain that he needs more meds and then he pretends that the meds have made him too sleepy to talk." 

"Don't do what you did last time," I said. "I'm not totally sure that he deserves the lion's share of the blame." She just shook her head. 

"Now I know that I chose well," she said. "You're a good guy, Stevie."

"I'm not nearly as good as you think," I smirked. "I'm nowhere near ready to even begin to think about considering forgiving him ..." She laughed at that. 

"I just don't think that your family should be torn apart by something that has nothing to do with you or your kids," I said. "Shit!" 

"What?" she asked. 

"Sarah and I wanted kids," I said. "I think we saw how adorable yours are and that made us even more determined to become parents. We also wanted to do it the way that you guys did. You know ... Wait until we were financially stable, so we could enjoy the experience and not have to worry where each and every mouthful of food would come from."

Georgia was working over the stove and as I said that she took off the loose covering shirt she wore. Underneath it she had on a T-shirt like the one she'd worn the night before. But it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra under it this time. 

I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of her boobs as they swung freely under that shirt. Sarah had boobs, but they weren't in Georgia's class. As she bent forward, I noticed how tight the material of her shorts was across her ass. My forty-something neighbor was giving me a hard on. 

"Georgia, don't you have to get back to your kids?" I asked. 

"Nope the kids are spending a few days with their grandma and grandpa so I can take care of Rick," she smiled. "I'm all yours." Even as she said that she smiled and my dick got harder. 

"Rick's painkillers make him sleepy," she said as she put a plate in front of me. "I added some sleeping pills to them. They're the same ones I use when he has the flu. They usually put him out of it for a few hours." 

As I ate Georgia leaned forward and her boobs were very much on display with the deep V neck of the shirt. The fact that her nipples were showing through the shirt wasn't something I missed either. 

"Georgia, these pancakes are awesome," I mumbled through a big bite of food. "And the bacon is the best I've ever had." 

"Thanks, Hon, I've had a lot of practice cooking. Having a family does that for you," she said. 

"Wow, you tore through those," she said as I finished eating. "I need to talk to you about something. Let me make you some more." 

Even before I could tell her that I was full, she got up from her chair and headed back to the stove. I could almost see it before it happened. As Georgia got up she bumped the table and upended the bottle of syrup on the table. It almost seemed like she'd done it on purpose. 

The syrup spilled on her shirt and some got on her shorts too. "Oh Shit! What a Klutz!" she said. "Come on, I'd better put these in your washing machine before the stain sets." She grabbed my hand and dragged me down the stairs into my wash room.  

She opened the top of the washer and right there in front of me lifted her shirt over her head. My gasp of surprise as her huge boobs swung free made her smile even more. 

"When we were talking the other day, I noticed that you had trouble taking your eyes off of my boobies," she said. Her voice was filled with lust. I was having trouble forming conscious thoughts as they bobbed and moved in front of me then. 

She stripped her shorts off and stood before me a naked as the day she was born. "Remember what I told you, before," she smirked. "Don't get mad ... Get even!" 

She dropped the shorts in the washer, then closed the lid and started the cycle. She pulled my pants and shorts down to my ankles in one motion. 

"Oh my God, that girl is stupid!" she gasped. The next thing I knew, my dick was in her mouth. She was rubbing her boobs along the sides of my dick and I could barely think. It felt so good. I was thrusting my dick between those big soft tits like there was no tomorrow. Every time the head of my dick cleared her boobs she licked it. 

Then she suddenly stood up and hopped up onto the washing machine. She pulled me over to her and wrapped her legs around my waist. Her pussy was so hot that I almost came as soon as I was in her. 

I slowed down, I had to. I concentrated on rubbing her back. I bent my head down and found those engorged, rubbery, huge nipples and feasted on them. Her moans grew in pitch and in volume. I could feel the walls of her vagina clutching and gripping at me. It was strange. As I've mentioned, Georgia is older. She's given birth to three kids. Her pussy wasn't tight, but she seemed to be able to control the muscles that lined it and squeezed my dick as if she was milking it. At the same time, the way she moved her ass and her pelvis was driving me crazy. 

I grabbed her ass and got another surprise. Sarah was younger and her ass was bigger, but Georgia's ass was so soft that it turned me on even more. I lifted her from the washer and turned her around. I bent her over the machine and started fucking her from behind. That position allowed me to take big handfuls of those huge dangling tits while I fucked her as hard as I could.

Georgia put her hands on top of mine and urged me to squeeze those succulent melons. She rammed her ass against me as I slammed myself against her. We quickly built to a peak and let it go. I shot every drop of moisture in my body into Georgia's thirsty womb in one shot. 

I was sure she felt it because she started screaming as I flooded her. "Ohhhhh Fuck, Stevie," she shrieked. "It's sooo hot." Her body vibrated as if she was having a convulsion and she grabbed my hands even harder. 

I started nibbling her neck and her legs got weaker until I was holding her up. 

"Shower," she blurted out. I nodded. I was filled with feelings of guilt and remorse as I led her through the house. 

When we got up to the bathroom connected with my bedroom she opened the door to the shower. 

"What's wrong, Stevie?" she asked. 

"I ... I ... I took advantage of you, Georgia," I said. "I'm sorry." 

"Steve, I stripped right in front of you," she smiled. "I came over to your house without a bra and I wasn't wearing any panties. What do you think I had in mind?" She turned in the water in the shower and stepped in. She pulled me in with her and started soaping my body.

"So this was some kind of revenge thing?" I asked. She nodded. 

"It's one of the things or ... A part of my revenge," she said. She looked up at me with absolutely no regret in her eyes. "Want some more?" I nodded. 

We dried each other off and headed for my bedroom. Once there she jumped onto my bed and gestured for me to join her. I lay beside her and started out by gently blowing on her nipples. She started rubbing her legs together. "Oh shit, Stevie," she gushed. "My titties love you." 

I kissed each quivering mound of flesh and slowly worked my way down her tummy. I started kissing the tops of her legs and then worked my way inward. She spread her legs as soon as she saw where I was headed. I lapped at her fleshy lips and she had trouble keeping her legs still. I nipped and teased at her clit and her body started to convulse again. I continued licking until she was still again. I crawled up until I was next to her face. 

I couldn't resist it. I kissed her. I continued pressing my lips against hers until she responded. Our tongues dueled and then joined as our kisses became less fervent and more loving. 

She opened her legs and pulled me on top of her. A few moments later we were joined again. This time it was different. We never stopped kissing. It was gentler and more romantic but somehow more intense. And when it was over, I kissed her and she kept her thick legs wrapped around my waist as if she didn't want us to separate. 

We lay there wrapped in each other's arms kissing for a long time. 

Well ...you certainly fucked that up," she said. 

"Sorry," I said. "It was really good for me. If you had told me what you wanted I would have tried it." 

"Steve, Honey, that's exactly the problem," she smirked. "You did everything I wanted. It was probably the best time I've ever had. But it wasn't revenge sex. It was too romantic. It was too caring. You tore my insides all up, Honey. How the hell are we supposed to tell Rick that it was only sex? You're lucky I'm an old married woman with three kids. If you keep doing that to me I'll fall in love with you and ruin everything."

"Georgia, I ..." I just stopped and nodded. 

"You worked all night, Honey," she said. "You need your sleep. I'm gonna go and check on my cheating asshole of a husband." 

I fell asleep dreaming of big tits and soft butts. When my alarm went off later on, I was glad that I had left the window open. The room didn't smell like I had just spent a long portion of the morning screwing my next door neighbor. 

I opened the door and found Sarah sitting in a chair on the deck, reading her book. "It's about time you woke up," she said. 

"Sarah what happened to you giving me some time for my anger to go away?" I asked. 

"You turned your phone off," she said. "I needed to make sure that you're okay." 

"I'm fine," I said. "Not that it's any of your business anymore." 

"We're married," she said. "Your well-being will always be my business. And I'm not so sure you're fine. I don't like the way that little blond nurse was looking at you last night. You might end up doing something stupid while you're vulnerable." 

"And if I did, whose fault would it be?" I asked. "Whose fault is it that I am in a vulnerable mood, Sarah? Whose fault is it that I lost my marriage and my best friend? Who ruined my life Sarah?" 

She took off running and drove away as soon as she got into her car. She called me again during the night while I worked. "Steve, you're not even trying to forgive me," she whined. 

"Nope, I'm not," I said. She hung up. 

The next morning, found Georgia waiting for me again. "Do you want to eat first?" she smirked. That began a pattern that literally lasted for weeks. Georgia met me at my house every morning. We had sex until I fell asleep or couldn't get it up anymore. The best times were the ones when she actually slept with me. I loved waking up in the early evening with my hands being pressed by hers into those big soft tits. 

I finally got a chance to go to an appointment with my lawyer on the day that Rick went in to have his hands checked up. It had been a month since Rick's accident. The lawyer got my divorce papers ready and served them on Sarah at her parents' house. 

That set about another chain of events that I would never have foreseen. When Georgia got back from taking Rick to the doctor, she walked over to my house. I was shocked because she caught me on my front porch and I could see Rick behind her, watching. As our eyes met, he actually waved at me. He looked down and lowered his hand as he noticed that I didn't wave back. 

"Come on let's go inside," said Georgia. "We need to have a talk." 

"But Rick saw you come in," I warned. 

"Don't worry about him," she smiled. "He thinks he wants me to come over here." 

She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hard. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and I couldn't help it. My dick got hard. 

"Steve don't you ever get tired of fucking me?" she asked. "You know that Sarah and Rick only did it a few times, and all of their trysts were quickies. I can believe that because Rick has never lasted more than ten or fifteen minutes. They also never did anal. I know that because Rick isn't into it. You're the only man who has ever fucked my ass. Sarah also never sucked his dick." 

"Georgia, why are we talking about what they did or didn't do?" I asked. She took my hand and led me up the stairs after making sure the front door was locked. 

"I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to get back at them for cheating on us, we've gone over and above what they did, so you got enough pussy to make your revenge exceed what they did," she said. 

"Georgia ... " I looked down. I was trying not to cry in front of her. 

She took off her shirt and placed my hands on her tits. "You can say it," she said. "I'm fifteen years older than you are. I don't mind you using me for your revenge. We both had a good time, and believe me, I got something out of it. This month with you has been the best sex I've ever had. And Steve, trust me I more than got my revenge too. I actually have something to tell you ..." 

"That isn't it at all," I spat angrily. "Georgia, we have a problem ..." 

"Is it that you've been fucking that little blond nurse you work with?" she smiled. 

"No!" I said in shock. "How did you know about ...?" 

"Sarah told me about her," she said. 

"When did you talk to Sarah?" I asked.

"She comes over every night after you go to work," said Georgia. "She asks me about you and how you're doing. At first I just spoke to her to make sure I had all of the facts about her and Rick. That's how I know what they did and why. I can't believe you haven't screwed that little blond though. If I was a man, I probably would have. I mean this is your big chance to get all of the pussy you want and Sarah won't say shit about it. What's stopping you?" 

"You, Georgia," I said. 

"Steve, what's wrong?" she asked. "You look awful." 

"Georgia, I get the feeling that you were just using me to get your revenge," I said. "And from the way you're talking, it seems like YOU got the revenge you wanted. But it wasn't ever about revenge for me. The first time I was kind of shocked. But every time afterwards was different. You asked me if I ever get tired of fucking you, well except for maybe that first time we were never just fucking. At least I wasn't. I love you Georgia. You're sexy and beautiful and caring. You're everything I always wanted Sarah to be. I ..." 

The next thing I knew Georgia had pushed me down on the bed and was straddling me. She stripped her panties off as she started kissing me and then mounted me. I reached up and caught her big dangling tits and sucked hungrily on her nipples. She leaned over and found my mouth with hers and started kissing me. My hands rubbed down her sides and I grabbed her ass cheeks and started forcing her ass down onto me as I thrust upwards desperately. 

"Fuck me, Baby," she grunt. "Fuck me as hard as you want." 

I flipped her onto her back and covered her mouth with mine. I continued to stroke in and out of her as I warned her that of Rick was listening, he might hear her. 

"Fuck him," she said. "Even if he does find out, he owes me at least this." 

I slammed my dick as far as I could inside her while she ground her clit against my pelvic bones. She screamed into my shoulder to prevent her cries from becoming too loud as I emptied my balls into her womb yet again. 

"Ohh fuck that felt good, Baby," she said. She actually had tears in her eyes. 

"You know you're too late, right?" she said. 

"So you're saying that if I had met you first we could have ..." I began. 

"Maybe se should get dressed and talk," she said. "There are some things you need to know." 

We took a quick shower and sat down fully dressed at my dining room table. 

"Don't look so serious Baby," she said. "You can have whatever you want." 

"Somehow I doubt that," I said. 

"Okay, look. Doofus ... I mean Rick thinks that I'm here to beg you to let him apologize to you. He thinks that getting you to forgive him is the first step to getting back in my good graces." 

"It's never gonna happen," I said. 

"Okay, so pretend," she said. "Revenge is so much better when they don't know you're doing it." 

"Huh?" I said. "What revenge?" 

"Oh I figured out exactly what to do against both of them," she said.