Mike and Amy

From time to time, I receive emails from readers with story ideas or requests. This story was based on one such reader email. The names have been changed...

There's also a reference to events in my story, "Revenge in Advance: Mona."

As always, constructive comments are welcome and please remember, this is a work of fiction... Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc.

Mike Johnson wondered what he would find when he finally reached the home he shared with his wife, Amy, a woman he had not heard from for over a year, even though she knew where he was. As he stared out the window of the cab, he thought back over his life.

He lost both his parents at the age of 17 in a tragic auto accident, and became an emancipated minor with the support of his next door neighbor, who happened to be a county social worker. Fortunately, his parents had set up a trust fund to make sure he was well-taken care of. It wasn't a huge amount of money, but it was enough to take care of his needs. He was also in great physical shape and played football in high school.

He was popular with his classmates because he had his own house, which was paid for with his inheritance, and he was considered to be an all-around nice guy. His father taught him to be a gentleman to the ladies and how to control his temper. When he died, he was a hand-to-hand combat instructor and had taught Mike well.

He graduated high school and went to college at the University of Florida. In his third year of college, he met Amy, who was in her second year.

They dated a few times, but he felt like something was missing so he didn't call her after their third date. About two weeks later she called.

"Hey, Mike," she said. "What's going on? I haven't heard from you for a while. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know, Amy," he said. "I just don't think we're a good fit, y'know?"

"That's not true, Mike," she said, disappointed. "I think we're a great fit. Please, can we try again?"

"Okay, let me think about it," he said. A week later he asked her out again.

This date was completely different. They had had sex on their original dates but this time was so much better.

"Wow, baby, that was great," he said after a mind-blowing orgasm. "Where did you learn to do all that, and who did you practice with?" Amy laughed.

"My roommate gave me some tips and I've been practicing with a vibrator," she said.

They continued dating until he graduated with a degree in economics. As they celebrated his graduation that night, he asked her to marry him and she said yes. The wedding was set to take place after her graduation.

He stayed in the area so he could remain close to Amy and got a job with a local investment firm. They married in March 2001. At the time, he was 22 and Amy was 21. Things were going great for them, but the world changed that September.

On September 12, 2001, he joined the Army. Thanks in large part to his father's training and his constant practice of martial arts, he became a Ranger. During this time they made a great couple, and were happy newlyweds. He kept the house he had inherited from his parents in Columbus, and the two stayed there. Amy was able to get a job as a paralegal in town.

By the time his training was complete, the U.S. was neck deep in Iraq, and he was shipped off for a 12-month tour. A month into that tour, he was promoted to sergeant and made a squad leader. After that tour, he came home but nine months later was ordered to Iraq for another 12-month tour. By now, he had re-enlisted and was promised a duty station of his choice upon returning from Iraq.

Predictably, Amy wasn't happy.

"Why do you have to go back?" she asked. "I need you here with me."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've been given orders. I want to stay here with you, too, but I don't have a choice in the matter." He held her as she cried into his shoulder. "After this tour I'm supposed to be able to choose my next assignment," he told her, hoping it was a promise he would be able to keep. They made love well into the morning. What Mike didn't know is that would be the last time he would be with her sexually.

Three days later, he was in Iraq. For the first month he got a letter from Amy every other day. He called when he could and always wrote back. But after that first month, he received only one letter in the next six months and had only been able to talk to her two times on the phone. What the hell was going on, he wondered.

After nearly eight months with virtually no contact from Amy, he was worried but couldn't do anything about it, so he did what many others did and counted the days until his tour was finished.

On a Tuesday morning, his Humvee hit an IED, killing four of the soldiers in the vehicle. As a result of the blast, he lost his lower left leg.

Three hours after the attack, a chopper was able to land and evacuate all the casualties. They patched his leg up as best they could and sent him to Ramstein, Germany for more surgeries and rehab. After spending three months in Germany, he was shipped to Walter Reed hospital for more surgery, more rehab, and a prosthetic limb.

It took an extra two months to learn how to walk with his prosthetic. Afterward, he was given a medical discharge and released to go home. Despite his best efforts, he heard nothing from his wife. By now, it had been more than a year since he had any contact with her at all. Was she even alive, he asked himself. And if she was, why the hell didn't she contact him?

He had tried calling her parents, but wasn't able to get any answers. He called his home and left messages. At least he still had power at his house, so someone must be there.

It was about 9:30 am when the taxi pulled up in front of the house where they lived. His truck was still in the driveway along with her car. He also noticed several other cars parked along the curb.

The cab driver helped him carry his duffel bag to the door after he extracted his large 6-foot 2-inch frame out of the small car. He heard noises from the front room and wondered what was going on. He carefully opened the door and walked into the living room, where he got the shock of his life.

There, on the floor, was a barely-recognizable Amy being gang-banged by six men. She was on her hands and knees riding one guy, another was behind her fucking her ass, and another was in front of her, shoving his dick down her throat.

At the same time, she was jerking two other guys off. The sixth guy was apparently resting up after having finished blowing his load into her. He took out his cell phone and began taking pictures of the action before him. The men fucking her heard the door open and saw the flash from his phone and looked up. After seeing him standing there, they grabbed their clothes and ran out the door.

Mike recognized them as he had seen them on base before, and two of the men had rotated to the States when he arrived in Iraq for his second tour.

Amy laid on the floor leaking cum out of both her well-fucked holes. Not recognizing him, she actually asked if he wanted a turn since the others had left.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted. "So THIS is what you've been doing the last 13 months? Is THIS why you couldn't bother to write or answer my calls? I get my ass blown off and lose a leg, and here you are fucking everyone in town? Get the FUCK OUT of my house! You have 10 minutes to pack up and get the FUCK out!"

That's when she recognized him. She got off the floor and reached out to him, but he backed off.

"Keep your filthy cheating paws off me you slut," he ordered. She backed away from him, scared.

"Please, Mike, let me explain," she begged. "This isn't what you think."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he asked. "I haven't heard shit from you for over a fucking year and when I do get home I find you getting fucked on the floor by six men. There's nothing to explain. Pack your trash and get out." After saying that, he had another thought.

He went to their bedroom and pulled her clothes out of the closet, including her wedding dress and tossed them out the window. Going to her purse, he pulled out the ATM card for their joint account and the credit card they shared. He also took the house key off her key ring. He went outside, pulling out his lighter.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked, scared.

"You have ten minutes to pack your trash and leave or I'm burning everything," he said. "Now MOVE!" Amy ran through the house, trying to get her things together. Mike kept track of the elapsed time on his watch. She got the last item off the ground just as Mike was getting ready to set it on fire.

"Where will I go?" she asked through her tears.

"Right now, I don't give a flying fuck," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, you can go to fucking HELL. Just tell me where you're staying so I'll know where to send the divorce papers."

"Please, Mike, you have to believe me, this is the only time it's ever happened. It was an accident. It didn't mean anything," she pleaded. Mike, however, wasn't buying it.

"Bullshit, bitch," he said. "I haven't heard from you in months. What I saw in that house definitely wasn't the first time for you. I may have been born at night, but it wasn't fucking last night. Now go, goddammit."

Amy sobbed as she pulled out of the driveway and left. Mike watched as she left and went back in the house, devastated. By now, he was exhausted, physically and emotionally and collapsed on the couch, his leg hurting. He couldn't believe what she had done to him, to them.

He lost track of time, and before he knew it, the sun was beginning to set. He got up and looked around the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat, when the phone rang.

"Hello," he said, answering the phone.

"Mike, what the hell is wrong with you?" asked an angry female voice on the other end. He recognized it as Julie, Amy's older sister. "Why did you kick Amy out of the house?"

"Ask her," Mike said. "Have her tell you why."

"I did," she said. "She said you didn't like the way the house looked and told her to get out."

"That's bullshit, Julie, and I think you know it," Mike said. "If you want the truth, come by my house and I'll show you." He heard nothing on the other end for a few moments.

"Okay, Mike, I'll come by, but this had better be good," she said before hanging up. He knew it would be a while before she got to his house, so he sat down at his computer and turned it on. After it finished booting up, he decided to check Amy's email.

Amy wasn't too bright about things like passwords and she had one of those web-based email services, so he was in her email in pretty short order. He decided to slow Amy down a bit and changed her password so she couldn't delete anything. He knew that eventually, she would get it reset, but not before he had his evidence.

It only took him a few minutes of browsing her emails to realize this had been going on for quite some time, perhaps during his entire tour in Iraq.

The emails he saw were quite explicit, and many of them had pictures or video attached.

"Hey, cutie," one email read. "Had a great time last night. You're one hot pussy." The email had two pictures attached, so he brought them up and printed them out. The pictures showed Amy with one cock in her pussy and another in her ass. The email was dated one week after he left for Iraq. There were many, many more just like this.

"Just wait till your stupid hick husband comes back," another email read. "We'll give him a hot welcoming party LOL." That email had a video showing Amy getting plugged in all her holes at the same time. That email was dated the day he was wounded in Iraq.

By the time Julie showed up, he had printed off nearly a ream of emails and a large pile of photos. The videos were saved into a folder. He noticed the same six men were featured in most of the photos and videos.

He answered the door, making sure Julie was alone. She didn't look very happy.

"Alright, Mike, spill it, what's going on?" she asked, her face red with anger. He pulled out his phone and showed her the pictures.

"This is what I walked into when I got home," he said. Her face turned white as she looked at the photos he had taken.

"Oh my God," she said.

"There's more," he said, throwing down the pictures he had taken from Amy's email. Julie looked through the photos, shocked. "Did you know about all this?" She shook her head.

"God's honest truth," Julie said. "I had no idea. I knew she was going out a lot but I didn't know about this."

"She never said anything to you?" Mike asked. Julie shook her head.

"No, nothing. My God, Mike, I'm so sorry," she said. "I knew she was upset about you leaving, but I didn't think she'd do this."

"Did she say anything to you about me being wounded?" he asked. Julie shook her head.

"Wounded?" Julie asked, surprised. "When did you get wounded?"

"About six months ago," he said. "Lost part of a leg. I've been in surgery and rehab for months and I never heard anything from her. Now I know why."

"I'm sorry, Mike, she never said anything about it. She's hardly mentioned you at all over the last several months," Julie said.

"Probably too busy getting fucked to even give a damn," he said. "She didn't even recognize me when I came in the door."

"So what are you going to do?" Julie asked.

"I'm divorcing her ass," Mike said.

"Is there any way you can forgive her and work past this?" Julie asked.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Mike said. "There's no way I can ever get past this. And something tells me I'm just scratching the tip of the iceberg. No, we're finished."

"I understand, Mike. I'm really very sorry about all this," she said. "I'm going to give her a piece of my mind when I see her." She wrapped her arms around him. "If there's anything I can ever do, let me know, okay?" she asked before leaving.

"Thanks, Julie, I appreciate that," he said. He locked the door after she left and went back to the computer to see what else he could dig up. By the time the clock struck midnight, he had printed off all of the incriminating emails and saved hundreds of photos and videos.

Looking at the timeline, he could see that Amy's cheating had begun early in his first tour in Iraq and had been happening about once a week the whole time he was gone. He also managed to identify all six men involved in her gang-bangs. He also learned that all of them were active duty. Based on what they wrote, he was able to identify the units they belonged to and got an idea of the days they went out clubbing.

Additionally, he found that all six of the men Amy had been screwing were married and a couple of them had young children. He made a note of their addresses and contact information. He regretted that they would be hurt in all this, but he wasn't going to let the assholes off the hook just because they had children.

He filed that information away and laid down on the futon in his office to get a few hours sleep. The next day would be very busy.

He woke up before the sun came up the next day and did his morning routine. Getting dressed, he mapped out the day's activities. First on his list was to get an appointment with a good divorce attorney. He looked through the phone book and started making calls. After speaking to a couple of firms, he was able to get an appointment that morning.

Looking at his watch, he realized he didn't have a lot of time before the appointment so he went to the bank and closed out their joint accounts and reopened an account in his name only. He knew he would probably have to give her half of their money, so he got a cashier's check for the full amount. His inheritance and trust fund were in accounts that Amy had no access to, so he left those alone. He closed out their joint credit card and applied for one in his name only, paying off the balance on the other card.

Once done, he headed out to see his attorney. He walked in, carrying a folder full of emails and photos, and checked in with the receptionist. He had just poured a cup of coffee when an attractive woman came out from the back and introduced herself.

"Mr. Johnson?" she asked, extending her hand. He shook her hand and introduced himself.

"Please call me Mike," he said. She smiled and ushered him into her office.

"Thank you Mike," she said. "Please call me Sally. I understand you are seeking a divorce, is that right?"

"Yes, it is," he said. She looked at him hard for a few minutes.

"You know, I don't represent cheating spouses," she said. Mike put the folder on her desk.

"Sally, I've been in Iraq and in the hospital recovering from combat wounds for several months," he said. "I'm not the one cheating, as these emails and photos show." She looked at the folder, picked it up and thumbed through the thick pile of papers, shaking her head.

"Oh my," she said. "This is extremely incriminating. How did you get these emails and photos?"

"Well," Mike said, "my soon-to-be ex-wife used my computer for her correspondence, and they liked to send photos and video back and forth."

"You have video as well?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," Mike said. "And I came home to this yesterday." He pulled out his phone and showed her the photos he took in his house. Her eyes grew wide.

They went over the evidence and the details of the divorce and by the time the meeting was over, Sally agreed to file for divorce on the grounds of adultery, naming the six men she'd been screwing for the last two years.

"So, once we file, we'll get her served and she'll have 30 days to respond," Sally said. "If she doesn't respond, we can have the final decree granted immediately. If she does contest it, it may take a bit longer. Since you owned the house before you got married, she has no claim on it. The same for your inheritance and your trust fund. If she wants to fight it, we can use the photos and video. Hopefully, she'll simply sign the papers and it'll be a done deal. We can have her served either at her work or at her sister's apartment if she's still there in a couple days."

"That would be great," Mike said. He thanked her and left the office, feeling better since he first got home the previous day.

After he got home, he called a locksmith to have the locks changed on the house and began calling the wives of the men Amy had been involved with. Needless to say, they were all pissed. Most of them had suspected something was going on but didn't know what. They all asked for evidence, and Paul was more than happy to email photos and videos along with copies of some of their emails.

He made a few more calls and met some of his comrades at a bar on the edge of town. They looked at some of the photos he brought and shook their heads. They also knew the six men involved and discussed possible options. As they talked, one of the six, a big clod named John Abrams, came stumbling into the bar. George, one of Mike's friends, pointed him out. They looked and turned back to their beer, but not before the asshole recognized Mike and staggered over to him, full of piss and vinegar.

"Well, well," he said loudly, "if it ain't Sgt. Johnson. How's your wife these days? She still stretched out from my dick?" he asked, grabbing his crotch. Mike said nothing, prompting the asshole to push the issue. "What, are you a wimp as well as a cuckold? C'mon, big Ranger dude, let's see what you've got."

He made the mistake of taking a swing at Mike, his fist glancing off the top of Mike's head. Mike responded, putting the asshole down on the floor in seconds without breaking a sweat. Red with rage, he began pummeling the man's face, breaking his nose and leaving a few teeth on the floor. The next thing Mike knew, he was being pulled off the man by two police officers who slapped handcuffs on him and threw him in the back of a police cruiser. The other man was loaded into an ambulance and taken to an emergency room.