Now THAT'S a Spicy ClichébyIronDragon©
This is not your usual BTB revenge tale... Ok, maybe it is, in a sense. It's a bit dark, a bit twisted, and a bit funny in parts.
For those not into BTB, I suggest stopping now and looking elsewhere. This one was partially inspired by Scorpio44's tale called "Enough Wimps!" I already know that people will be comparing the two. lol
For those who are into BTB, I will just say that I hope you enjoy the ride. :)
Sometimes, life is full of clichés. Yes, clichés are there for a reason, because they're COMMON occurrences or sayings. Well, my life lately had become a cliché when it came to my wife of 10 years.
First, let me introduce myself. I'm Martin Baxter, and I run my own salsa business here in Santa Barbara, CA. I have every type of Mexican, Central and South American peppers known to Man at my disposal. I've even recently started making habanero salsa. People LOVE it, in very small doses. It's also very popular at colleges as part of hazing, it seems. Some of my best customers for the really hot stuff are Fraternities. Go figure. I've always loved spicy food, so it was natural that I go into the business.
As for how my wife fits into some of the clichés in life, Cindy has been getting distant of late. Yes, I know. NOW I know, anyway. And that's another cliché.
When we'd been married 10 years ago, we were both madly in love with each other. I'd just gotten out of the Army and was setting up my first Salsa shop. I'd saved quite a bit of my money, and taken some culinary courses online while I was in. Hey, it kept me sane in Afghanistan for that first year, and then I was out and ready to do some business.
Getting the loan was easy back then, before the "economic downturn" caused by the housing bubble bursting all over the place. But even today, my salsa business, "Baxter's Burner", is still going strong. The problem, however, isn't with my business, as you could probably guess by now.
No, the problem was my wife, and the fact that she was fucking around on me.
How I found out was the Big Cliché. Well, not quite. The Big Cliché is coming home early and catching them in bed together. No, the Second Big Cliché is leaving, forgetting something, then coming back in and overhearing the conversation about them getting together while I was busy at work, and our son was in school.
Yes, we have a kid together. Brian Baxter, named after Cindy's dad. Oh, and before you ask, yes, he's mine. I KNOW he's mine, since he was conceived on our Honeymoon, and we were together every moment of every day alone on her dad's yacht. Also, I had a DNA test done on him after I found out about her and the Asshole she was fucking on the side.
How it all came about was yet ANOTHER cliché. I'd forgotten my laptop that had my finished formula on it for the new SCORCH salsa. Yeah, yeah. I know. Not too original, but the fact that it was as pure habanero as you could get in paste form, THAT was something. Of course, we'd be adding other elements to it as we went, but I was going to put the first batch together that day. I needed that laptop, and went back in as quietly and quickly as I could to get it.
As I walked into my den, I could hear her down the hallway as she talked on the phone. Of course, I could only hear half her conversation.
"Hey, sexy. Yes, The Idiot is gone to work. *giggles* Yes, don't worry. You're going to get something today that he's never had! Mmhmm! You guessed it. I want you to light my ass on fire with that big fuckstick, baby! Oh fuck yes!"
My world imploded. I numbly gathered my laptop and headed back out to my car. Hell, I don't even remember the drive to the shop. When I got there, Becky was behind the counter, and Sari was sitting with a customer, letting him taste test the latest batch of our medium hot picante salsa that put Pace to shame.
I managed to paste on a smile as I wondered what I was going to do. Divorce, of course. Cindy's father hadn't trusted me back when I first met and married his daughter, so I'd had to sign a pre-nup.
The pre-nup stated that in case of spousal infidelity, the offending party would leave the marriage with nothing, in case of divorce. It hadn't been a one-way street, since I wouldn't have signed it if it was.
Then all the clichéd questions popped into my head. "How long has she been fucking him?" "WHY was she even fucking him?" "Was I not good enough for her?" "Why does she disrespect me to him?" "If she's that unhappy, why hasn't she divorced me yet?" "How am I going to prove her adultery?"
That was when it hit me. The most evil plan that ever entered into my mind, and upon reflection of what I was planning, I realized that I felt no guilt over it whatsoever.
I looked at all the pluses I had going for me. 7 inches, cut and thick, and I KNOW how to use it. I've been around long enough to know fake from real orgasms, and Cindy hadn't faked one in the ten years we'd been married. I always gave her multiples, usually starting with my tongue and fingers, then even a couple with my weapon of choice. It couldn't be about the sex... COULD IT? Shit, I'd memorized the fuckin' Kama Sutra, for God's sake! I was still in good shape, working out three times a week and running five days a week. Yeah, I still did my own PT regimen from when I was in.
But the plan itself was, upon further reflection, possibly the most evil plan anyone had ever devised for revenge.
See, the heat in chili peppers like the habanero attack the mucus membranes in the mouth. However, have you ever eaten some very spicy food, then sat on the toilet the next day crying "COME ON ICE CREAM" as you were taking a dump?
Yes, I was getting downright sadistic as I thought about how I was going to exact my revenge.
450,000 Scoville Units' worth of heat in a vaginal and/or rectal cavity was going to make for some VERY fun times, at least for me. Now I just needed a delivery system.
I cooked up the small batch in record time, and told the girls to have a taste. They each had to fan their mouths and eat a LOT of bread to get the fire put out. Both then gave enthusiastic thumbs up for my efforts. I STILL needed a delivery system, however.
The day passed quickly, and while I always enjoyed talking to the young ladies who I employed, I took off early for home. I stopped by my lawyer's office and had him draw up Divorce papers, citing Infidelity as the cause. I told him that I would have some evidence in a day or two. He was reluctant at first, but when I told him about the conversation that I'd heard that morning, he was sympathetic, and nodded his assent.
Then I left his office and drove home. As I turned onto my street, I saw a little red Mercedes sports coupe pulling out of my driveway, and heading my direction. The man behind the wheel was blonde, blue eyed, and had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. The Face of the Asshole. I recognized him as a guy from one of Cindy's social functions that we went to! He was always asking her to dance, and she was always accepting those dances. NOW I knew why! My anger grew again, and I was more than ready to put my plan into action!
The hardest part was going to be acting normal when I got home. I wasn't about to tip my hand to The Bitch before I could play it. I took a deep breath, then went inside. I pasted on my best Loving Husband smile and went inside.
"Hi, honey!" Cindy greeted me with enthusiasm. She'd obviously just showered, as her hair was still a big damp. Her long blonde locks fell over her shoulders, and I was once more entranced by her beauty. But physical beauty is one thing. Inner ugliness trumps that. After the conversation she'd had with Asshole that morning, her outward beauty didn't have quite the hold on me that it once did.
"Hey, sexy lady. A shower at this time of day?" I asked playfully, touching her hair.
"Yeah, I had quite a workout earlier." She smiled and kissed me. Yeah, I BET you did. Well, your workout tomorrow will be a LOT more interesting! I thought to myself.
She said that dinner would be ready in an hour, so I kissed her again and headed down the hall to our bedroom. The smell of Febreeze in the room ALMOST masked the smell of sex, but at least they'd changed the sheets on the bed. I almost lost my lunch when I thought of sleeping in that bed with her tonight. I'd be burning it at my earliest convenience.
Then the thought hit me. They HAD to be using some kind of lube for anal sex. Hmmm...
I searched her nightstand, and sure enough, there was the tube of Cherry KY Jelly that we sometimes used. Son of a bitch! I popped the cap, and it was nearly the same shade of red as the salsa I'd created with the white hot fire inside. I grinned as I took the cap completely off the KY, squeezed some of it into the toilet, flushed it, then poured some of the paste from the small bottle of salsa into the tube. I replaced the cap and squeezed it around, mixing it up inside the tube itself. Then I took the cap back off, and put even more of the salsa into it. Then repeated the process. Once I thought it was mixed up enough, I pulled the cap off and squeezed out a little. I sniffed it, and sure enough, it was In There Good! I washed my finger off and replace the cap again, then replaced it in her nightstand just as I'd found it.
I was in a much better mood now, and took a nice long hot shower. I then went out to eat dinner, and had on a pair of blue jeans, t-shirt, and a smile on my face.
"God, that smells great!" I enthused as I sat down at the table. I opened a bottle of beer and we all dug in to her lasagna. God, I was going to miss her cooking! Probably even more than I was going to miss the sex with her!
Brian had gotten home and was sitting in his spot between Cindy and I. We talked about his day at school, and Cindy admonished him to get his homework done. Yes, she's a pretty good mom to him, too.
Cindy, sexually, has always been a quick study, very skilled and enthusiastic. So yes, I LOVED having sex with her, be it either fucking or making love. It was always special.
For a few moments, I pondered the ramifications of what I was about to do. Petty revenge on my cheating wife and her Asshole lover. Then divorce that would leave her with nothing from our married life together. She COULD sue for custody of Brian, and she might even win. I love my son, and I really didn't want him to be subjected to her shit after our divorce. I was already planning for that as well.
I had specified in the Divorce papers that I wanted full custody of my son, and that I would allow her generous visitation, but only supervised by me. I didn't want him subjected to her Asshole lover, who might just try and take my spot as Brian's father.
The pain in my heart was ever present that evening, and soon I begged off that I needed sleep. I told Cindy that I wasn't feeling good, and that I'd tried a REALLY hot salsa at work, so she smiled sympathetically and bid me goodnight.
I went first into my den and grabbed my old mini camcorder and mini tape recorder. I had last used the camcorder on our last Anniversary vacation when we'd gone to Disneyworld, and I had last used the recorder when I was first starting out, to record my thoughts before I bought the laptop. I then went into our bedroom with a and put the camcorder behind some DVDs below our TV so that it had a good view of the bed. I made sure that the little green light was covered with Electrical tape, so it wouldn't give it away when I turned it on in the morning. The battery was at full charge, though. Good. A full 8 hours of footage, as long as I started it right before I left in the morning.
I hid the recorder under the bed, but didn't start recording yet. The little memory stick in the recorder would record for up to 8 hours as well. The battery was also at full charge. I grinned.
It was obvious that Asshole had been here all day long, and they had gotten done in time for them both to shower and him to leave. If I hadn't been a bit early turning onto my street, I might never have seen him.
The only possible problem with my plan was that they might not do anything the next day. Well, if not, then I'd keep on keeping on until I caught them in the act.
I then used my cell to call Becky. I told her that I was going to take a few days off, but if Cindy called, to tell her that I was in a meeting with a client. I then explained the situation, but only that I was trying to catch them in the act, and she said "No problemo, boss." Becky is good people, and she knows that I would never cheat on Cindy. She's also a knockout of Puerto Rican descent. She's been with the shop for 5 years, and knows her stuff about running a business.
Sleep that night was a long time coming. I kept thinking about what might happen in the morning, or what might happen a few days from now. From the way she'd been talking to him, they'd been fucking for a while now. I already figured out what to do in the morning, and each successive morning if it came to that. After I started the camera and recorder going, I would slip out, drive around to the alley behind our house, and come in through the alleyway gate and up to just below our bedroom window. I would be able to hear anything going on from that vantage point. I snuck a cooler outside with some snacks, beer, and sodas in it. One of those nice coolers that will keep things cold for days at a time, as long as the battery held a charge.
I finally fell asleep, praying that something happened sooner rather than later. I woke up the next morning and got dressed as usual. I waited until Cindy got in the shower, then turned the camera and recorder on, leaving the house like normal. It took no time at all to get behind the house and slip in through the alley gate. I left my car there, since I would hopefully only be there for a little while.
After Cindy sent Brian off to school, she was once again on the phone. Once again, she invited him over, and from her confirmation, he would be there in twenty minutes. I grinned. I had made sure that I wouldn't be spotted through the window, either by the Asshole and my Cheating Slut, or by the camera that had an awesome view of the room. I drove to the nearest drug store around the corner from our house, and picked up a new tube of the heated cherry KY Jelly that Cindy preferred. It was a flash of inspiration to cover my tracks, just in case. I got home ten minutes later, and was perched under my bedroom window in fifteen minutes with five minutes to spare.
I then sat beneath the window, opened the cooler, and pulled out a ham and swiss sandwich and an cold microbrew ale. I sipped it slowly between bites of my sandwich, enjoying the rich taste, when I heard Asshole's Mercedes in the driveway. Apparently, they didn't give a rat's ass if the neighbors saw it. I decided that it would be a shame if something bad were to happen to Asshole's ride.
So as soon as I heard the front door open and close, I slipped around to the side of the house, then out through the side gate. I had my pocket knife on me, and I decided to carve "ADULTEROUS ASSHOLE" in his doors. Oh, my revenge might get me thrown in jail, but I was going to have a hell of a lot of fun while doing it!
I tried his door handle, and lo and behold, the Arrogant Prick had left it unlocked! Well, we lived in a good neighborhood, and NOTHING bad happened during the day. I checked his glove box, and found his registration and insurance cards. "John Lawson". Now Asshole had a name, but I was going to keep calling him Asshole. It was easier to remember. I took his registration and insurance cards, and pocketed them. I then decided that a little cut to his valve stems would be a lot of fun, so I sawed halfway through them.
I heard the screams starting, and called Paul, my attorney, and told him it was Game On. I let him know the evidence would be there in a couple hours, tops, and to get the A of A lawsuit set up, and to name Mr. John Lawson in the Infidelity Divorce Papers.
I then slipped back into the backyard, and heard them through the window as they screamed in pain from the hottest salsa on Earth causing their asses to catch fire, figuratively speaking. I sat below the window and chugged some more of the ale. I allowed a shit eatin' grin to crease my face, and I had to stifle a laugh as they tried to figure out what was going on.
"OH GOD, WHY IS MY COCK BURNING?!"
"YOUR COCK??? MY PUSSY AND ASS ARE ON FIRE!!!"
"HOLY FUCK IT HURTS!"
Finally, I got up and decided to go inside. Oh darn. It seems I forgot my laptop again! I went and pulled my car back around to the driveway, then went inside and found Asshole and Slut writhing in agony as they tried like mad to get in the shower and drench themselves in cold water to put out the fire.
When I got to the bathroom door, I summoned my anger. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" I roared.
The tableau was priceless! Asshole's cock was large. VERY large. Probably at least 10 inches. It was also red and swollen from the salsa getting into his pee hole. He was uncut, and the salsa had gotten under his foreskin. I took some very deep satisfaction from that turn of events. I then looked at my wife, whose ass and pussy were both crimson red from the irritation and intense burning caused by the 450K SCHU KY jelly.
"Oh my God! Marty!" She screamed, then let out a yelp of pain. "Please, Marty! I'm so sorry!" She yelped again, and Asshole was also pleading his case to not hurt him.
I kept my face a studied mask of anger and disbelief. I stepped forward and landed a punch from Hell on Asshole's jaw, knocking him back into the wall of the shower stall. I then unleashed several brutal kicks to his balls, in effect annihilating them. At that point, I pulled out my cellphone and called 911.
While Asshole was unconscious and Cindy the Slut was crying and screaming her ass off, literally, I grabbed the doctored tube of KY and replaced it with the new tube, seal broken and a few dabs removed from it. I then went out to my car and disposed of the doctored tube under my back seat. I'd dump it later in a dumpster behind a gas station or something.
I told the 911 operator that I had returned home to get my laptop for work, and had caught my wife in the shower with her lover. I told her that something seemed to be very wrong with both of them, and that their privates were swollen and red. She dispatched the police and ambulance to my address. I thanked her and Ended the call.
Now, our neighbor across the street, Mrs. Kendall, was a real busybody, and local gossip queen. I KNEW she knew about Asshole coming over for daily visits, so when the EMTs and cops arrived, I went across the street to talk to her.
"Oh, hi Marty." She said with a smile as she opened her door.
"Hi, Mrs. Kendall. Have you, by chance, seen that little red Mercedes at my house before?" I asked with a smile.
"Why yes, for the last few months, in fact. Every Monday through Friday." She smiled, her apparent innocence belied by the fact that she actually KNEW about it for that long.
"Thank you, Mrs. Kendall. Umm, did you see anything strange this morning other than the red Mercedes pulling in?" I asked.
"Nothing, dear." She said. So she HADN'T Seen me defacing his car. "I saw you leave, and then Brian leave for the bus stop. Then he got there about twenty minutes after Brian left. I then went and watched my morning shows, and when I came back, you were just pulling back up to the house."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kendall. Do you mind if the Police get a statement from you?" I asked.
"Oh, not at all, dear. Anything I can do to help!" Said the little old lady who knew more of other people's business than they did.
"Thank you so much, ma'am." I smiled, gave her a hug, then returned to my side of the street and the waiting cops.