An Affair of Revenge: Ch. 03 - Final

Author's Note

Thank you all for the positive and constructive feedback as I released this story. This series is my first-ever attempt at writing. I learned a few lessons along the way. When I first started writing this—I'm not gonna lie—it was meant to be a highly-exaggerated erotic story. The underlying message was about a man who dissented into madness, compromising his moral compass and forcing others to do the same along the way. This story was never about good people—quite the opposite—it was about crazy sex and terrible people.

Reading the viewers' feedback in the comments motivated me to complete it. It helped me steer specific plot beats down a more dynamic path, bringing parity to both the sexual elements and the story's message. If you're just starting, you'll want to read the first two chapters to understand the continuity.

I know it's impossible to please everyone, but I'm happy with this series finale and genuinely appreciate everyone committing their precious time to this series. Knowing how engaged this community is, I couldn't be more excited to start my next story.

~~~

Fucking Andrew's mom gave me a fleeting confidence boost. But it didn't give me even a remote sense of closure. Logically, only divorce would do that. My lawyer badgered me often about pulling the trigger on the divorce, but I hadn't yet been able to bring myself to move forward with serving Liliana the divorce papers.

I lived in a community property state with limited precedence for grounds for fault. In divorce terms, the evidence of Liliana's affair that I gathered could be enough to sway a judge to split our marital property in my favor during divorce proceedings, but it was a long shot. My only goal was to walk away with the house where Liliana and I had built over $300,000 in equity. Between the cars, furniture, and various brokerage accounts, Liliana could likely walk away with $200,000 worth of assets. I had planned it all out, but why couldn't I divorce her?

Maybe it was the substance abuse. My addiction had taken a stronger hold on me than ever before. I was still alternating between pills and alcohol, drifting in and out of consciousness as the days passed. It wasn't long before Liliana noticed I was drunk most of the day.

"What is going on, Mike? Why are you drinking at 2 pm?" she'd ask me on a Saturday afternoon.

"Get off my dick, Lil. I'm burned out from work. Just get off my di - BURP," I'd grunt before toppling over and passing out.

Liliana began leaving in the middle of the day on her days off. I knew where she was going—to suck Andrew's cartoon-looking cock. I didn't bother to follow her or inquire when she'd leave. It didn't matter anymore. I had my own sidepiece now. I had started an ongoing affair with Marla.

Marla and I were in the throes of new relationship energy. We went out on dates, drove around aimlessly, talked for hours, and fucked all the time. I fucked her in her bathroom while Andrew's dad watched TV in the other room. She sucked me off to completion at Jennifer's 20th birthday party. I'd leave work on my lunch break, and she'd give me head in my car. My favorite activity was laying my head on her well-endowed bosom and sucking on her tits. It was a surprisingly comforting exercise that I'd grown quite fond of amidst a blur of drunken, barely-conscious days.

Eventually, I was shocked into a temporary state of alertness when Andrew's ex-wife told me she knew about Marla and me. Vanessa had caught Marla giving me a blowjob in her guest bedroom on Jennifer's birthday, peaking her head through the door while we were doing the deed. I went to Vanessa's house to talk to her about it. I had no choice but to come clean about Liliana's affair. I showed Vanessa a short video clip of Andrew and Liliana fucking. Vanessa was disgusted yet intrigued.

I spent the next few weeks talking to Vanessa about Andrew. I'd gone over to her house numerous times. We made a bizarre habit of watching my recording of Liliana's sexual escapade with Andrew, almost like a Netflix show—30 minutes at a time whenever I visited. We laughed and cracked jokes at their dirty talk. As twisted as it was, it was therapeutic for me. Here we were, sitting side by side on Vanessa's couch, cackling as we watched my wife getting pummeled by Vanessa's ex-husband.

Vanessa gave me good advice, spilling some of Andrew's secrets along the way. Andrew's affair with Liliana wasn't the first time he slept with a friend's girl. He had a track record for this behavior throughout the earlier years of their relationship. Vanessa and I bonded over this twisted experience, both of us reeling from Andrew's actions.

"Why did you cheat on Andrew? He told me he hired a PI before your divorce," I asked one evening.

Vanessa looked ashamed.

"I'm not saying I was an angel back then. But Andrew's cheating was so constant. I lost my self-esteem," Vanessa began, "I went through a phase. Touched up my appearance. Hit the gym. Met a guy that made me feel good about myself. One thing led to another, and, you know."

"Yeah, I get it," I said, "I'm not one to judge. I'm in the same situation now."

"But, fucking his mom, dude? Come on, you're better than that," Vanessa scoffed. Those words became something of a catchphrase in our conversations.

"I know, I know. She really is a great fuck, though," I joked.

Vanessa responded by sighing and shaking her head disapprovingly. A tinge of guilt hit me every time she'd do this. I was beginning to develop feelings for Vanessa.

******

My lack of inhibitions reached a new level when I made a colossal misstep at work. I was day drinking from a flask while working on a budget spreadsheet that my boss, Amber, needed for a board meeting the next day. Amber sent me an innocuous chat message to check in on the status.

Amber: "Hi Mike. How's the product budget sheet looking? :)"

Mike: "I'm on it. Should be done by 5 pm."

Amber: "Finish by 4 pm and I'll buy you a drink. Can't wait for us to put Q3 planning behind us"

Mike: "Leave work early with you for a drink? I'll get this thing done at 3 pm"

Amber: "Lol. Sooner the better"

Mike: "How about I finish in the next hour and we make it a date? This ain't the only thing I can finish if you catch my drift ;)"

Amber didn't respond. An hour later, I got a calendar invite from Amber for a 15-minute meeting at 9 am the following day. The only other participant in the calendar event was someone from the HR department. I fucked up big time.

They fired me the next morning. Sadly, the only real thing I worried about at that moment was my painkiller prescription. My doctor was a sleazy dirtbag that had begun prescribing me those pills like candy after I went through my original stockpile. Without my job's medical benefits, I'd end up on a government-sponsored medical plan until I got a new job. There would be a tremendously low likelihood that I could see the same doctor.

******

"What the FUCK do you mean you got fired for hitting on your boss?" Liliana screamed as she took her shoes off after walking through the door.

"I don't know, Lil, I don't know what I was thinking," I said, bowing my head shamefully.

"What did you tell your boss, exactly?" she said.

"I. I asked her out on a date...and something about an orgasm," I admitted.

Liliana's eyes began to draw tears as she gritted her teeth. Her expression then turned to sadness.

"How...how could you do that to me?" she cried.

I couldn't believe the audacity. My shame converted to anger.

"What the fuck are you talking about? How could I do that to YOU?!" I yelled.

This wasn't how I envisioned telling her, but I wasn't sober, and my emotions were running wild. An overbearing current of anxiety flowed through me as my mouth took on a mind of its own. The cat was finally about to come out of the bag.

"You fucked someone else! You fucked HIM!!!" I screamed, my eyes turning bloodshot as I began to cry.

"What? Fucked who?" Liliana stuttered, now wholly avoiding eye contact with me, as she stood at the doorway uncomfortably. The energy in the room shifted as I took on the role of the aggressor.

"I know everything. I know about your affair with Andrew, you fucking cheater. I've known for months," I proclaimed, pointing a finger at her from across the room. I reached into my pocket for my phone.

"I even have proof," I said, waving the phone in my hand, "so why don't you maintain some dignity and fucking admit it, Lil."

Liliana stared blankly at me for a full minute. The room was silent enough to hear each other's breathing. She suddenly broke down, fell to her knees, and bawled. I was too angry to feel an ounce of sympathy for her. The emotions I'd bottled up detonated. I continued screaming.

"How the fuck could you do this to me?! How the fuck could you do this!"

"Mike. I'm sorry!" she relented as her crying grew in volume by an order of magnitude.

"Admit it! I want to hear you say it!" I demanded. Liliana responded with more inaudible words and desperate cries, burying her head in her hands.

"I SAID ADMIT IT! TELL ME YOU FUCKED HIM!" I screamed. She looked up at me, desperation on her face, then put her face back in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably. I was perplexed by how shocked she was at the revelation that I knew about her affair.

As if my body had a mind of its own, I put on my coat, grabbed my car keys, and stormed past her. Liliana extended a hand lazily. Her hand brushed my shoulder, but she couldn't grip me fast enough before I walked out the door. I could hear her crying louder as I got into my car and backed out of the driveway.

I drove for a couple of miles and began to collect myself. I was still drunk, but my adrenaline began to subside. I pulled off to the side of the road and sat there still for 10 minutes, staring at nothing. A sea of texts and phone calls from Liliana flooded my phone. I muted her text and phone call notifications.

I called my divorce lawyer. It was late, so he didn't answer. I left him a voicemail.

"Meyer, hey. I'm ready to move forward. Let's go scorched earth. Use the evidence I gathered to let me keep the house. She can keep everything else. Thank you, and sorry for taking so long to make up my mind."

I stared at my phone for a good minute. On pure instinct, I found myself calling Andrew.

"Sup little biaatch," Andrew answered.

I didn't respond.

"You there, dude?" Andrew asked.

"One thing I never understood," I began, "you knew I suspected Liliana was having an affair. You must've warned her I knew. Yet you both kept doing it. She never showed any sign of guilt."

"Yo, Mike. What are y—"

"You were fucking my wife, and you saw how utterly fucked up I was over it. And you kept fucking her," I continued, "and she just didn't care that I knew. You both just didn't care."

There was a long pause on the other end.

Andrew began speaking. "Mike, bro, I'm. I'm sorry man. How did you—",

"Why was she acting so surprised right now?" I asked.

"I, um. I never told her you knew," Andrew began, "I didn't want her to freak out and stop seeing me."

Another long pause.

"I'm sorry, dude. Listen, why don't we grab a couple brews and—"

"Sorry doesn't even begin to describe what I will make you feel," I concluded before hanging up on him.

Fury overtook me as I opened the video of me fucking Marla in her ass. I watched the video, admiring it for a minute, before texting it to Andrew.

Minutes later, I received a call from Andrew. I sent him to voicemail. Another call. Sent to voicemail. He texted me.

Andrew: "WTF"

Andrew: "WTF I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU"

Another phone call from Andrew—voicemail.

Andrew: "THAT'S MY MOM YOU PIECE OF SHIT"

Ignoring Andrew's texts, I called Marla.

"Hey, love! What are you up to tonight?" Marla asked suggestively.

"Hopefully cumming in your mouth. Let's meet up?" I said. She needed no further convincing.

I parked in the dark corner of a supermarket parking lot about a half mile from Marla's house. Marla awaited me in her Suburban; this was our usual meetup spot on nights when her husband was home.

"Oh, love, I've been thinking about you all day," Marla moaned as she got into my car.

As the car door slammed, my attention was suddenly diverted. "But fucking his mom, dude?" — Vanessa's words rang through my head. I shook it off.

"Come here," I said, refocusing on Marla. I unzipped my pants and pulled my half-hard cock out, and wagged it around.

"Let me see those perfect lips wrapped around my cock," I said.

Marla began sucking on my pipe with reckless abandon, making her signature gurgling and choking sounds. I arched my head back to savor her fantastic blowjob skills for a minute, her tongue relentlessly flicking the head of my cock—this would likely be the last time we'd ever do this. With my phone in my left hand and my right hand on her bobbing head, I muted the audio and began a video phone call with Andrew.

The asshole answered immediately with an enraged look on his face that quickly transformed into despair. I looked at his dumb fucking mug as he watched his mother slobber over my cock. He was inaudibly screaming. I could make out his curse words even without the volume on.

"Oh fuck, Marla. God, you are the hottest piece of ass I've ever had," I proclaimed dramatically.

"Mmmmhmmm," Marla moaned back as my cock slammed into her uvula. Her head bobbing intensified.

"I'm gonna cum, baby. Can I come in your mouth?" I asked.

Marla agreeably moaned.

"Oh fuuuck," I yelled. I began to burst large streams of cum into the back of her throat. Marla moaned loudly, slurping and swallowing my seed.

By this point, Andrew looked mortified and frozen in time. Marla was finger-licking some stray semen off of her chin. She looked up and saw the phone in my hand. Marla's face went from pleasure to horror.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed, smacking the phone out of my hand. It landed on the center dash, face up. Andrew's face on the video call was front and center. Marla shrieked and began scrambling to get out of the car.

"Mike, what the fuck are you doing?!" she screamed as she frantically reached for the car door handle.

Guilt crashed into me like a ten-foot wave.

"Marla, wait!" I pleaded. I quickly grabbed the phone and hung up on Andrew.

"That is my fucking SON, you perverted piece of shit!" Marla yelled as she stumbled outside of my car.

"No, I was...I'm sorry," I said, closing my eyes in shame.

"What will my husband think?! You twisted son of a bitch!" she yelled as she turned her back to me and entered her Suburban.

I sat there, dumbfounded, taking in what had just transpired. Now I was frozen in time. I wasn't thinking clearly. Revenge had consumed me, and my inhibitions were utterly absent. After half an hour of self-loathing, I shook myself back to reality. I started the car up and drove around aimlessly again. I needed someone to talk to.

I called Vanessa and told her about my confrontation with Liliana and Andrew. I shamefully omitted the details of my rendezvous with Andrew's mom and the video phone call. Vanessa generously offered to have me over for a few days while things cooled down with Liliana. I told her I'd take her up on her offer and returned to my house to pack some clothes.

I walked into my house and saw Liliana sitting upright on the couch, staring at the TV across from her. The TV was off, but she didn't break eye contact with it. Her face was red, and it looked like she'd been crying for hours. I walked by her and made my way up the stairs.

As I was packing a few changes of clothes from the bedroom into a duffel bag, Liliana opened the door and stood at the doorway. She continued to stare blankly at nothing in particular.

"Can we please talk?" she asked.

I didn't respond and continued packing my bag.

"Please, Mike. Let me explain myself," Liliana pleaded.

"How many?" I asked sternly, keeping my focus on packing.

"What do you mean?" Liliana asked coyly.

"How many men," I clarified.

"That...that's a complicated answer," she said. That was certainly not what I wanted to hear.

"Was it more than one?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Yes," she said, bowing her head.

"Who were the others?"

Liliana raised her head and looked at me with glossy eyes.

"You don't know most of them," she said.

Most of them? Jesus, that implied there were at least three or more.

"How many?" I asked again.

"Maybe 10 or 11," she relented.

I maintained my composure despite a massive jolt of discomfort shooting through the pit of my stomach. It had become effortless to power through the neverending emotional blows this woman threw at me, but this one got to me.

"How long?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"A year or two," Liliana whispered.

"I really have no idea who you are," I said, holding back tears with every ounce of strength.

Liliana's labored breathing stopped, and she looked at me straight on. Her grief mutated into hostility.

"What about you Mike? Do you seriously think this is all on me?" she blurted.

"Haha, what?!" I responded with a guttural laugh.

"You don't even care that you can't make me cum!" Liliana yelled.

"I've made you cum plenty! You stopped cumming with me after Andrew started piping you!" I retorted.

"Look at you. You're lazy. You've let yourself go and gained weight," Liliana said with finality. That one stung.

"So you're justifying fucking a dozen guys because I gained some weight?!" I shot back.

"Maybe I was wrong to cheat. But you haven't exactly been the best partner. I've felt so inadequate for years. I needed a way to fill the hole."

"Oh, you've found a way to fill your hole, alright," I replied smugly.

"FUCK YOU!" Liliana screamed right before bolting out of the room.

"Where the fuck do you think YOU'RE going!" I yelled at her as I ran toward the room door. She had run down the stairs, and I could hear her slam the front door to the house as she left.

How the hell did she turn this shit around on me? I angrily finished packing and called Liliana. It rang once before going to voicemail. I sat on my couch in the living room and assessed the scene. She didn't take her car or a change of clothes. She also had work the next day, so surely she'd be back soon. I waited for two hours, ignoring texts from Vanessa asking me what time I'd be at her house.

By 2 am, I figured Liliana wasn't coming back. She had likely run off to Andrew's or one of the other guys she'd been sleeping with. I texted Vanessa, apologizing, letting her know I'd be there tomorrow instead. My stomach ached from the emotional toll the night had taken on me. I opened a bottle of whiskey and began swigging it before falling asleep on the couch.

******

I woke up to a phone call from my lawyer.

"Hello?" I yawned, dazed from sleep deprivation and a hangover.

"Hey Mike, got your voicemail. Listen, I have to ask," he began, "It's been months since you gave me that video recording of your wife cheating. I need to know everything that's transpired since then. Need to know whether or not you've deleveraged yourself in any way."

"Yeah, Meyer. I mean, what are you looking for exactly?" I asked.

"Any behavior that might've compromised your ability to claim additional property with grounds for fault," Meyer cautioned.

Fuck.

"Okay, well, you're not gonna like this," I began.

"Shoot it to me straight. I gotta know what I'm working with," Meyer responded.

"I had an affair with my wife's affair partner's mother. And I got fired for hitting on my boss," I explained.

"Jesus fucking—what were you thinking, man? You have any idea how difficult at-fault divorce is in California? Why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?"