Little

They didn't waste time kissing or hugging or engaging in any foreplay at all. This was purely sex at its most animalistic. Naomi and Mike were naked within no time and they both proceeded to the bed. Naomi sat on the bed facing Mike. Her eyes were glued to his dick which was already hardening and lengthening. She grasped it and let out a soft, "Oh Mike!" She almost didn't know what to do with it. She licked her lips to moisten them as they appeared dry from nervousness. Hesitantly, she moved his foreskin up and down, exposing his head in all its glory. There were already drops of pre-cum forming at the tip. These weren't needed to moisten his dick though, as in one quick movement, Naomi, my cheating bitch of a whore soon-to-be ex-wife, swallowed as much of Mike's dick into her mouth. The groan of lust which came from Naomi's throat was louder than Mike's equivalent moan of pleasure.

"Yeah! Like that bitch. How much can your whore mouth handle? Do you like sucking a real dick? I'll bet that asshole of a husband of yours can't do that huh! His little cuckold dick can't stand a chance from now on. You're my cock whore now! Your pussy will only fit a dick like mine." Naomi continued to move up and down on monster dick and I was amazed at how much she could eventually swallow. Had she been practising deep-throating her dong as well? Taking stock of my feelings, I was stunned to find that I had become cold to what I was seeing unfold in front of me. It was as if my feelings for Naomi, for so long that of love, trust and devotion, and recently replaced by anger and hate, were all put on hold. There was no feeling at all I was cold and numb. Up until now, Naomi's actions had all been solo, albeit online with someone else. But now to see the act of betrayal played out with another person, it had gone to a whole new level.

My coldness enabled me to be more clinical with what I was witnessing. James kept glancing in my direction to gauge my reactions to sights and sound of pure lust evidenced on the screen in front of us. "I know that bastard!" I said out aloud, but as if to myself.

"I do as well," James said, thinking I was talking to him. "In fact, I know all of those bastards on the website. I have their real names, not just their online handles, I have their addresses and who they are married to and how many children they have. I know their facebook accounts, their passwords and their medical records. Who we are looking at here is a Mr Charles Hemmings, married with three children and who lives at 29 Hokes Street. He also has two venereal diseases which are being treated right now. He is also being investigated for an AIDS infection." James stopped his data run-off when he noticed how pale I had gotten and how my body seemed to be trembling uncontrollably.

"I don't believe it! "I don't believe it. That's the prick who made everyone's life misery during high school, always bragging about his big dick and ridiculing everyone else who couldn't measure up. I don't believe it!" All of the memories of those horrible days came flooding back. I felt hot tears trickling down my cheeks and my sobbing became louder and louder. I had not cried before this. James, in all his social nerdiness, knew to leave me alone with my grief and left the van.

I don't know how long I sobbed and cried and questioned, "Why?"

But when I emerged from the van, James patted me on the shoulder and almost whispered, "Don't worry Geoff. They will pay like you wouldn't believe. The fury of hell is going to descend upon them. Just wait and see!"

I made my way back home where I finished packing all of my stuff which I couldn't pack without raising suspicion before. The trailer I had organised was soon loaded and ready to go. One last wander around the house which used to be home for myself and Naomi, seemed like a wander through the desert. Nothing left here had any value for me. There were only sad memories left. I sat at the kitchen table and placed the black dong that Naomi had used to prep herself for Mike. I put pen to paper and wrote her a final note. It read:

Dear Naomi

I write this so that I won't have to face you in person again. I am afraid that if I face you, I would do something which could put me in jail! I always thought that we had a beautiful and lasting marriage, but how wrong have I been proven to be. The cold, pre-meditated way that you destroyed our marriage, my love for you and my trust in you, can never be forgotten, and I am afraid, forgiven.

The fact that you were able to plan and execute your betrayal of our previous love so blatantly and so cruelly shows what a cold hearted bitch you have become. When I watched you and 'Mike' together, the way you so wantonly opened yourself to another man, the way you so easily disrespected me and my love for you, almost sent me over the edge. I would have died for you Naomi. Now the only death I have experienced is the death of our marriage. You so quickly threw away all of us for the sake of a bigger cock. You have truly become a big-dick whore. A whore who will never experience the pure love I had for you again. A whore who forever will mourn the loss of a true love which was mine for you.

I hope that every time you cum around the feeling of a monster cock in your cunt, or ass, or wherever, you think of what you have lost for the sake of a few moments of pleasure. The pleasure I thought we shared equally.

You are dead to me.

I have arranged all of the financial stuff, so you won't have to. The divorce papers are on the table with this note and my wedding ring. Please sign the papers and please destroy the wedding ring. You will see that I have already broken it in half as the marriage and union that it represented are both broken, beyond repair. I have also left your favourite toy, the black dong here for you to enjoy at your will, but I fear you have gone down the road of no return. Now that you have experienced the 'real' thing with Mike, it may not measure up again. If only you could have discussed this fantasy of yours with me, I could have done something to accommodate you. But too late!

Also, you may want to get a sexual health check. Rumour has it that your new love of cock, Mike, has syphilis, gonorrhoea and is under suspicion for an AIDS infection. You may want to talk with Darlene his wife of fifteen years and say hi to his three children, aged ten, eight and three. His address is 29 Hokes Street.

Also, by the time you read this, the video record of your hookup with big-dicked Mike has been posted to all of your friends on facebook and twitter. Your parents and mine, as well as our siblings also have been sent a dvd copy. The real estate agency you work for has been hacked and all of their clients who supplied an email address have also been sent a copy.

I will let the courts decide on what happens to the house, no longer 'our' home. The investments and cash have been divided equally, to be fair, unlike someone else in our past relationship.

I have a new phone, a new identity and a new job. Don't try to find me. My lawyer will handle any communications between us, though if it was purely up to me, I would not want to see you ever again, hear your lying cheating voice again or read any texts from you again.

Rot in hell bitch, or better still, die a slow agonising death in an AIDS ward somewhere. Maybe your big-dicked friend will be in the same ward.

I sealed the envelope with the biggest, juiciest glob of phlegm I could muster up and left. I also left the door open.

Later that day, Naomi arrived, saw the letter and broken ring and knew immediately what had happened. He knew! He knew! She collapsed to the floor and sobbed. "What have I done?" she wailed again and again. She didn't dare read the letter for what it might contain, but her wanderings around the house gave a fairly good idea. There in the lounge room was a pile of clothes and photos. All of the clothes she had bought Geoff over the years was in that pile. All of their wedding photos and other pics of them together were also there. Her wedding dress and special lingerie that she liked to wear for Geoff was on the top. She recoiled in horror as she realised what terrible smell lingered in that room, emanating from the pile. Someone had done something horrible to her wedding dress and lingerie! She would never get the smell out of them!

As she went back to the kitchen where the broken ring, a letter and her black dong waited, she knew she had to read the letter. With trembling fingers and a growing sense of dread, she started reading. Three times she had to pause to vomit into the kitchen sink. The consequences of what she had done bore down on her as an ever increasing weight. She had trouble breathing, her heart beat at an unusual pace. Was she having a heart attack? As she put the letter down, her phone rang. "Geoff!" she thought out aloud hopefully. As she answered it, she realised that it was her boss at the realty office.

"Naomi, you whore! You're fired! I will sue your cheating ass for the disreputation you have heaped on our agency. You haven't heard the last of this!" The phone went dead and Naomi wished that it was her who was dead. Next came her parents who let her know in no uncertain terms that they never, and they meant EVER wanted to speak to her again. She never heard her father, or her mother for that matter, use so many expletives! There followed a long list of calls, one after the other from friends, now former friends. Each had their own special way of giving her the same message. She had to silence her mobile and disconnect her landline to get any peace. However, the silence was in some ways worse. It just gave her mind space to dwell on what she had done. She huddled in a corner of the kitchen grasping the letter to her breast. This was the last thing that Geoff had touched. She clung to it as if it would conjure up her now lost husband. Her breast felt sticky from some substance smeared all over the letter. She stared at it with unseeing eyes until it registered what exactly it was. This caused her to recoil violently from the letter as if it was poison. She stood, stumbled and ran out of the door.

Later that night, a police patrol car spotted a woman wandering aimlessly through the back streets. Her eyes were wide and she had obviously been crying. She was in great distress and kept mumbling something about, "A big dick doesn't add up to a big heart," over and over again. The officers bundled her into the car and placed her in Ward D, the psych ward of the local hospital. No ID was found on her. She was later assessed as medically insane. There were also the early signs of some STDs, but it was too early to tell.

Geoff read the article in the local newspaper about how an upset, unidentified woman was placed into isolation in the local mental asylum. The article was beside another about an internet website which had been investigated and found to be a front for prostitution. What made this bust special was that it was men who were well endowed and, unfortunately, married. They were all facing various charges. It was also rumoured that the divorce lawyers were extremely busy at present, dealing with the arrested men's marriage break-ups, as well as a long list of female clients of the website, who, being identified in the article, had some explaining to do their husbands and boyfriends. Geoff visited the mental institution under his assumed name, but kept out of sight. The dishevelled, sickly woman he saw in room 37B only just resembled Naomi, as the medications she was on to calm her gave her a pale, pasty complexion. Her eyes, always so vibrant and full of life, stared aimlessly at a blank wall in front of her. Her arms hung listlessly at her side. She constantly whispered, "A big dick doesn't add up to a big heart."

He smiled as he left. Revenge is a bitch, but she seemed to have learned her lesson. What a shame it was too late!