Infidelity and Retribution

Chapter Two

So my wife of 18 years is cheating on me … a lying, cheating adulteress. How should I handle this information? Do I challenge her about it, bring our marriage to a bitter end. Strangely, I don't want to do that, because she wins. No, what I seek is retribution … I want revenge on the young smart arse who has alienated my wife's affections. I am actually angrier at him than I am at my wife.

My first chance to again access the black plastic garbage bag of damning evidence was Tuesday. My wife was at work, but I came home through the day … my work hours are sufficiently flexible through the week that I can disappear from my office for long periods without an inquisition. I again removed the folders of e-mails, took them to my office and photocopied them all before Jill got second thoughts about keeping such revealing information in our closet.

I hired a private detective to follow my wife when she left the house, ostensibly heading for her script meeting, the following Saturday. The investigator called me within an hour to advise that she had checked in at a suburban motel. Ten minutes after she arrived, a young man, who the private eye identified as the well known star of the TV soap, drove into the motel and went straight to Jill's room.

I immediately left my house and drove to the motel where I took a photograph of the two cars – my wife's and Jeremy's (aka Randy) parked alongside each other, just as their bodies would be in that motel room. I downloaded two pictures that the pi had taken of my wife and Randy arriving at the motel room and thanked him for his work.

Then I drove on to Jeremy's house … my wife had once pointed it out to me when we drove past it. I arrived there just before noon and rang the bell. His young and very attractive wife, Nicole, answered the front door. We had met before, but only once. I wasn't sure if she would remember me. I was quite surprised when she greeted me with "Mr. Anderson, what are you doing here?"

"Nicole, I need to talk to you about something very personal, have you got time to talk to me now?"

Without hesitation, she threw the screen door open, "Yes of course, please come in."

I did and began to follow her into the lavish beachside house that came with the success that her errant husband had achieved in TV stardom. This young woman was stunning, blonde hair that looked like it could be long, but was all piled up on her head. She had a fabulous figure that curved in all the right places … and long legs that went all the way up to that arse. As I walked behind her, I wondered if that arse could be her best feature … the way it moved. I pictured it naked and I admired the cheeks that rolled separately … she wore a summer dress that seemed to cling to her body.

"I was about to get myself some lunch, can I offer you anything?"

"That's very kind of you, but I'm okay. I've sort of lost my appetite," I told her, not wasting time on getting to the reason for my visit.

"Oh, why is that?"

We reached the living room and she pointed me toward a lounge chair. "I'll get to that in a moment, but first of all, I am honoured that you remembered me … we only met once. Did I make a lasting impression, or am I known as that famous TV director Jill Anderson's husband?"

"No, not at all … I remember you because I thought at the time that you were quite a handsome man. And you seemed to have a good sense of humour, I think that is so important in a man. I remember us talking about writing, you said that you used to do some. I had always wanted to pursue a career in journalism, but then I met Jeremy. His star was on the rise and the idea of me developing a career took a back-seat to his fame."

"Do you resent him for that, Nicole … that his success deprived you of making a name for yourself?"

"No, not at all, I admire all that Jeremy has achieved, but I do have occasional what-if moments when I ponder what I might have been able to do."

"You never know, circumstances might make it possible for you to follow your dream one day."

"That's a funny thing to say, why would you suggest that?"

I fidgeted uneasily in the chair, sitting across from the attractive young woman. "Nicole, I don't quite know how to start this … I really wish that I didn't have to tell you, but now that I know, it seems only fair to you to tell you what's been going on … behind our backs."

"What … what's going on … what are you talking about?"

"Infidelity, Nicole … that's the reason for my visit. My wife and your husband have chosen to ignore their marriage vows and cheat on both of us."

"What are you saying … no, Jeremy wouldn't do that." Despite her instant denial, Nicole's eyes had quickly welled up with tears. "Don't say something like that unless you are totally certain … I won't listen to any rumours."

"I am sorry, sweetheart, I have wrestled with this all week, I only found out myself last Sunday. I wouldn't dare to tell you unless I was one hundred per cent sure. Where do you think he is right now?"

"He's at a script meeting with the production team, like he is every Saturday."

I pulled the camera from my pocket and hit the review button, quickly locating the pictures I had from the motel. I got up and walked across to where Nicole was sitting and sat down alongside her, "I took this picture on the way over here. It's the Twin Towers Motel and he's in Room 22 with my wife and I would imagine by now they are fucking each other's brains out. You will see your husband's car and my wife's car conveniently parked alongside each other outside Room 22."

I flicked the button to bring up the other two photos, that I got from the pi, of Jill and Nicole's husband arriving at the motel room. The cars hadn't made as much impact as her actually seeing the couple going into that room. She reeled back, her hands clasped over her face as the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"How did you learn about all this?" she asked between sobs.

From my bag, I produced a folder full of the photocopied e-mails, "Jill was stupid enough to keep every e-mail she has sent to Randy…"

"Who's Randy?"

"Oh sorry, Randy is my wife's pet name for your Jeremy … she is Pumpkin to him."

"No, I'm Pumpkin, I've always been Pumpkin to him."

"Well, in that case, he's not very original, he's given her your name."

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she struggled to wipe them away so she could look through the pile of paper on my lap, "Has he sent e-mails to your wife too?"

"Yes, they're all there, she kept them separate though, in two different folders. When I copied them, I threw them all in together."

"Do you know how long this has been going on?" she asked, wiping more tears from her cheeks.

"It would seem to be 18 months based on the start of the e-mail collection and the wording of that first e-mail."

"The lying prick," she was getting angry now. I folded my arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to rest on mine. She was very emotional and she didn't resist.

"Let it go, Nicole, I feel your grief too, we're both in the same boat."

She did as I suggested and then broke into sobs. We had been sitting forward on the lounge. In the midst of the worst of her sobbing, I gently eased us both against the back of the lounge. For a moment, she tensed in alarm, and I expected she might ask what I was up to. But then, she went with it and just let it happen. She smelled good … real good.

I couldn't believe that I was sitting here on the lounge, with my arm around such a beautiful young woman. I brought my other hand up and ran my fingers gently over her hair. "I wish that I didn't have to be the one to tell you … in fact, what I wish more is that there was no story to tell. But you have a right to know before he makes a fool of you, just as my wife has made a fool out of me."

Nicole was trying to control her tears now. She brought one hand up to wipe her eyes and then she did a strange thing, her hand played with the buttons on my shirt, appearing to now be encouragingly comfortable with my arm around her. "No Malcolm, you did the right thing … as much as it hurts, I had to be told. So what's going to happen now?"

"Well honey, I consider my marriage is shot to bits, even though I haven't confronted Jill yet. I don't know if she has a plan for when she got caught. It's probably too early for you to know what you'll do about it. As for the two of us, I guess we should try to console each other … try to forget about what they're doing with each other in that motel room this very moment."

She pulled her head back to look into my eyes, giving me a strange look of suspicion, "What do you mean by consoling each other? And if it means what I think you might mean, how could that do either of us any good?"

"Might make us both feel a bit better, physically and mentally," I suggested, "and revenge wise, we could both feel satisfied that we're giving them back some of their own medicine."

She still looked at me with suspicion, like maybe I was taking advantage of a bad situation … I guess I was. But to my surprise, she let her head fall back into the crook of my neck, seeming to snuggle herself in a bit closer to me on the lounge.

We sat there in silence for many minutes, it might have been ten, but it had to be at least five. "So I'm just curious, Malcolm, you seem to think that we should do the same as them. But what would happen if you and I did do it now? Would we each confront them when they get home and tell them what we'd done?"

"I haven't thought it through that far," I confessed.

"So are you saying that you did or didn't come here with a plan in mind?"

"It wasn't cut and dried, Nicole. I really came here to tell you what was going on because it was only fair that you should know … and to offer you a shoulder to cry on. And I'm real pissed at your husband, so I guess, if the circumstance arose, then yes, I thought maybe we could do it."

"Do you feel anything for me, Malcolm … or are you just an opportunist taking advantage of a bad situation?"

"Obviously, I find you to be a beautiful young woman so I have to admit I desire you greatly. I am also hurting big time by the way my wife has treated me, as no doubt you are by what Jeremy has done. So revenge is a key factor in my mind at this time. In the cold light of day, it possibly won't do anything to remedy the situation, but for an hour or so, it could make you and I feel extremely good."

"Can you guarantee that, Malcolm?"

"I'd say so, Nicole," I told her, relishing the chance to try.

She pulled her head up off my shoulder once more and eyeballed me from one foot away, looking deeply into my eyes. I wondered what she was thinking … was she weighing up the prospect of vengeful adultery that I had just put to her?

Without uttering one word to me, she stood up and held one hand out toward me. I took it and she began to walk, towing me along like a recalcitrant schoolboy. I didn't know the layout of their house, so I was unaware if I was being taken into a bedroom or out the front door.

Until we reached the stairs that led up to what I assumed would be the bedrooms would be. At the top of the stairs, we turned and entered what had to be the master bedroom, the room she shared with her Jeremy. As the two of us passed by the bed, she let my hand go and I stopped there … that's where I wanted to be. She continued on alone to the window where she drew the curtains closed.

Once upon a time, I would have been supremely confident at this stage, sensing that I was about to get laid, but many years of marriage, and the familiarity of only being with one woman, had altered my perspective. Now, finding myself alone with a beautiful woman - at least a decade younger than me - was placing unexpected pressure on me not to stuff this up. This young woman would be feeling extremely vulnerable and needed me to act responsibly.

Damn it, if I was acting responsibly, I wouldn't have come here and hit on her … but this was my half-baked scheme to get back at the young man – her young man - who had stolen the affections of my wife.

I wanted to see this beautiful young woman while I made love to her, yet she had just darkened the room, shutting the daylight out. I switched on a bedside lamp and turned to face her as she returned from the window and walked right up to me, standing to one side of her bed … the massive bed that she shared with her husband.

She lifted one hand and did something at the back of her head that caused her hair to suddenly tumble down to her shoulders. She shook her head the way women do when they have just freed their long hair and it cascaded back and forth around her shoulders. "That's nice," I told her, anxious to break the silence of the bedroom.

"What is?" she asked, appearing to be nervous too.

"Your hair, I like it down … I like the shine … I like the way it flows down around your shoulders. You look even prettier now, if that's possible."

"Thank you!" she acknowledged, appearing to blush. She lowered her face and buried it against my chest, giving me a chance to place both hands on her back, holding her to me. "I'm very nervous," she mumbled against my chest, "I haven't had another man since I married Jeremy … I'm not sure if I can go through with this." She lifted her face and, up close, looked into mine, "Would you be very disappointed if I have to stop?"

"Of course I would, but I don't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable about."

We still looked intently into each other's eyes, looking for signs, our faces close. "It might help if you kiss me … would you do that?" she asked.

Without hesitation, I did. It was a positive sign, but I felt inept that she had to tell me to do it. The kiss began with just a touching of closed lips, so chaste. But then my lips began to nibble on hers and she let them part. The space was just enough for me to squeeze the tip of my tongue through, making electric contact with hers. She opened her mouth wider … and the kiss became much more passionate.

My hands roamed over her back, gripped her arse and pulled her against me, urging her to feel the bulge in my trousers like a teenager would. Her hands were active too, they wrapped around my back, content to hold me to her while our lips and tongues clashed torridly.

I continued to hold her clothed arse cheeks in my hands, pulling her against my groin. She seemed to push back, grinding her pubis into mine. This seemed encouraging and I wanted her naked as soon as possible. Our mouths and tongues were still interlocked in rapturous passion, but I wanted more … and now.

I tore my mouth away and transferred my mouth to her neck, planting love bites and looking down her back, able to now watch my hands slowly tugging her light summery dress up higher and higher. Drawing the hem up her thighs, out over the prominent twin mounds of her arse, eventually scrunching the material of her dress into one of my hands at the back of her waist. My other hand pushed into the waistband of her panties, my fingers at last able to lightly caress the smooth soft skin of her pale arse cheeks.

She whimpered at my caressing touch. Emboldened, I pushed one finger into the crease of her arse, insinuating it into the tightness between her cheeks until my fingertip touched her anus. "You're a very naughty man," she told me as my mouth continued to work on the skin of her neck.

"Why?"

"For touching me there," she whispered sensually and I felt her arse cheeks clench tightly on my probing finger.

"I'm only doing what feels good to me," I told her, giving my lips and tongue a short break. "That's some fine tight arse you've got, I can't believe he doesn't appreciate it."

She tensed and I was fearful that I had said the wrong thing. "You don't need to talk about him. I don't want to be reminded of where he is … and what he might be doing."

I felt her hands moving from around my back where they had held my body tightly against hers. They slid around each side of my hips and met again at my waist, managing to squeeze between our bodies. I felt her fingers busy at my belt and eased myself back away from her, giving her hands more room to move.

I knew that she had unzipped my trousers because, to do it, her fingers needed to pass down over my hard-on that was squashed upright within my underpants. My middle finger was still wedged into her arse cleavage, the tip clamped against her tiny anal opening.

"Do you touch every woman like this?" she asked.

"You mean on her arse," I checked.

"Feels like you're almost in it."

"Would you like me to be?"

She pulled her head back away from mine so she could look up into my eyes, "Umm … not now … maybe a bit later. Can I take a rain-check?"

What was that fool Jeremy doing in that motel room with my wife when he had such a hot sexy woman here at home?

I felt her hand pulling the top of my underpants out and over my erection, freeing it from the confines of my clothing. She wrapped her soft warm hand around it, holding it gently and with respect, "Feels really nice," she said, fondling it.

I eased my finger out of her arse, letting her dress fall back down, transferring my hand's attention to the buttons at the top of her dress, in front. I managed to get it to part down the front and quickened the process of undressing her by pushing the dress off her shoulders. Only her bra separated my lips from her nipples. For a moment, I was content to kiss them through the sheer material of her bra before lifting the cups out of the way and suckling on her orbs.

The lovely young Nicole was obviously feeling weak from my oral attention to her breasts … I could feel her body pulling back away toward the bed. I allowed myself to go with her. Within seconds, she was on her back, one leg up and bent at the knee, the other hanging over the side of the bed … but she was still wearing her panties. Her move to the bed had caused her hand to lose its hold on my hard cock. Prominently stiff, it waggled above her, capturing her avid attention.

"Umm … that looks as good as it feels," she told me, her words seeming to fulfil my expectations.

"I'm glad you approve."

"Would you like for me to suck you?" she asked as if she was offering me a cup of tea.

"That would be nice," I agreed, not wanting to miss out on anything.

She lifted her head and shoulders, supporting her upper body on her elbows. I eased my body forward, bringing the tip of my erection up to her parted lips. She closed those succulent lips around the head of my cock and with mouth and tongue, began to give me a near perfect blow job. How good could this get? She was sensational … she was ten years younger than my wife … but she wasn't my wife.

I could very easily let her take this to a logical conclusion, but there was so much else I wanted to share with young Nicole. When I sensed that the feel of her mouth around my cock was becoming way too addictive, I pulled back my hips, causing my hard eager cock to plop free of her grasping mouth.

"Please, let me do it all?" she pleaded, obviously wanting to go on with what she had started.

"Plenty of time for that later," I told her, pushing her back onto the bed once more. I hovered above her hot body, gazing down on all that was displayed before my eyes. I reached down and grasped the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. She willingly – albeit eagerly – raised her hips to let her final covering slip away.