The Best Revenge Fuck Ever

My name is Jon Randolph and this is the story of how I met the love of my life while navigating the minefields of UW Madison, The Marine Corps, Iraq and a nameless Sorority on Langdon Street. My background is relatively simple. I was born in 1984 to Frank and Anne Randolph. Dad was a Viet Nam era Marine following in the footsteps of his dad who served in WWII. I grew up an only child in River Forest, a suburb of Chicago. I got OK grades through public schools but frankly I really never applied myself. My grades were just good enough to get into UW, my dad's and grandpa's alma mater. As I moved off to school, Mom and Dad moved out of River Forest and into a Loop condo. Both of them had really good jobs and so they downsized to a modest two bedroom. Dad was a senior partner at one of the larger Loop law firms so no commute was a big plus for him.

I started my Freshman year in September of 2001 and I guess all Americans alive at the time knew what happened on the 11th. On the 12th I was in the Marine recruiting office in Madison. The sergeant I talked to was impressed with my desire to follow the family tradition and we had a great conversation. He did however point out that since my 18th birthday wasn't until November, that I would need parental consent. His advice was to sign up on my birthday while finishing at least the first semester.

That night I called my folks and they talked me into finishing the full year before enlisting. My Mom wanted me to finish all 4 years and then go to OCS but my Dad understood and I believe was proud I was following in the family footsteps. And so in June 2001 I started Marine Corp boot camp and believe it or not, I loved it. I had prepared physically by running every day and working out with weights. Dad and Grandpa had also prepared me for the mental hazing that the DIs would be dishing out and I was ready for that. Boot Camp was a pain in the ass but I was well prepared. I graduated first in my class and after Infantry School and my MOS I was ready for my first deployment.

The three and a half years of my service went by in a blur. I was deployed 5 times and sometimes there was only a short break between them. I had a real talent for house to house operations and had good leadership skills. I had just gotten my sergeant stripes and my own squad when the IED did its job. One day later I was on my way to Germany on a military hospital plane. After 6 months of operations, poking, prodding and rehab I was a civilian in Madison Wisconsin continuing my interrupted college career. I was still on a cane for support but I was assured that if I kept up with the PT I would be able to get back almost 100% of my strength and range of motion.

That brings us to September 5, 2006. At 10:58 AM I was making my way to my assigned seat in the UW lecture hall for Econ 101. Luckily my seat was on the aisle so I could straighten out my bum right leg. As I settled in the girl next to me looked up from her phone, brushed a lock of gorgeous red hair out of her piercing green eyes and said

"Welcome to 101, I'm Fiona Quincy."

"Jon Randolph" I mumbled as I fumbled with my backpack and cane before grasping her outstretched hand. Her palm was warm, dry and soft. Her grip firm as a feeling of trust and definite sexual interest passed between us and as I sat down I needed to slightly adjust my bulging pants.

For several minutes we exchanged pleasantries as I got out my MacBook and prepared to take notes. I was amazed at just how easy it was to talk to this girl. She was warm, witty, seemingly intelligent and as an added perk, was very very easy on the eyes.

As the immense lecture hall quieted down as Professor Spencer started his presentation, I marveled at how lucky I was to have met this girl.

Throughout the lecture as the obviously left wing prof extolled the virtues of socialism and the perils of capitalism we whispered little clever asides back and forth. By the end of the class period I found myself asking if she'd like to grab a soda or coffee at the Union. She accepted immediately much to my joy.

As we filed out of the hall she noted my reliance on the cane and my more deliberate and careful walking style. and so she asked me how I was injured.

I gave her the short version, Military service in Iraq but she pressed me for more info. Initially I thought it sort of strange that in the Liberal capitol of mid America a college coed was interested in anything military. She however revealed that her brother was 101st Airborne and that he was in Fallujah at the same time I was. Apparently he was back in the States awaiting another deployment.

Since she seemed to be really interested, I went into more detail than I would usually relate when asked about my injury. When my patrol got nailed by the IED the lead man got cut in half. The next two in line lost limbs and I caught the stuff not absorbed by my men. All in all I was hit by 21 fragments, one of which really fucked up my leg. My wound was bad enough that I was encouraged to muster out and finish my last 3 years of college on the GI Bill at Uncle Sams expense. I wasn't 100% sure I had made the right choice until I met Fiona.

As we walked the four blocks to the Union we chatted easily as if we had known each other for years. She had a light lilting easy laugh and a sunny disposition. Thoughtful and obviously intelligent, she was packaged in a 5'4: well proportioned body. Fiona was a sophomore like me but was 3 years younger.

We grabbed a couple burgers and soda and found a quiet booth in the Rathskeller and for the next two hours got to know one another. Fiona at one point asked if she could ask a real personal question. It went something like "are you seeing anyone now?" To which I replied something like "the only girl I'm seeing is sitting across the table from me and from what I can see, she's a gorgeous redhead with the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen in a human."

I reassured her that I was currently unattached' and that since breaking up with my long term High School girlfriend, I had only had short term relationships. I certainly wasn't celibate in the Corps but I did have a code that I stuck. Never get involved with a friends girl friend or a married woman. Never lie to get laid. Be honest to the ladies and they will be the same with you.

The history that Fiona revealed was more or less bland. She was born and raised in River Hills, a northern suburb of Milwaukee. She was the youngest of three kids. Brother Henry was the oldest and he ended up at West Point and later joined the 101st Airborne. Her sister Sally was 18 months older than her. Father Frederick Stark was a partner in an Engineering firm and mom Sarah was a home maker. Both were UW alums. Fiona had gone to a private High School and became friends with the appropriate snooty socialite wannabes. What set her apart was that she thrived on girls sports and ended up lettering in cross country, track and swimming. Sports got her out of the socialite group and had her relating more easily with the "common folk."

Fiona then divulged that she had also been in a committed relationship in High School/College that had gone way south. She had apparently been a Senior Widow while her now ex was sowing his oats with the Stevens Point Girls Volleyball Team.

We had to break up our conversation at 2:00 for classes but we exchanged numbers as we parted ways at the foot of Bascom Hill. I wanted to call her that night but not wanting to appear overeager, I held off. Two days later at the next Econ lecture I asked her out for Friday night. I picked her up at her dorm at 6:00 and we wandered up State Street until my leg started to slow me down. We found a quiet booth at the Plaza Bar and for the next 5 hours consumed burgers, beer and each other.

That date was magical. We seemed to connect on so many levels and it was as if we had known each other for years. We said goodnight in the lobby of her dorm and without any awkwardness we came together in a kiss to end all kisses. It went on and on until we had to come up for air. "Wow" was all I could say. "Wow back to you. A girl could get pregnant like that." It was then I realized that my hard on was spearing into her belly and she wasn't exactly pulling away. When I started to apologize she said "Don't, I take it as a compliment for giving me a world class kiss."

With that we dove into another kiss and grasping embrace that was even better than the first and kept it up until someone cleared their throat behind us and suggested we get a room. We didn't take the advice that night but it wasn't too many weeks later that we broke in the bed in my off campus efficiency apartment. Including High School, I had sex so far with eight women and thought I knew my way around the female body. Wrong! Sex with Fiona was almost a mystical experience. Her body and sexual appetite were just incredible. She had that Irish creamy white complexion with long red hair, little red nipples and a small top knot of red pubes topping her bare genitals. I was drawn to said pussy and spent at least an hour feasting on her cute little clit and the tight lips of her labia guarding her delectable and tasty vagina.

Fiona was not just a passive recipient of my attentions but rather a quite active explorer also. Obviously most of her attention was concentrated on little Jon and he really enjoyed her oral ministrations. She was fascinated with the scars which were evidence of my Marine Corp service and many surgeries. She toured all over my body visiting each scar and eventually ended up mounting me and posting up and down on my cock with her eyes closed. As she fucked me I watched her face as she soaked in the pleasure of my cock rubbing her g spot. All I could do was to caress her delectable little nipples and admire the beautiful form riding on me. From time to time her face would scrunch up a little and her vagina would pulse on my cock as she came in a succession of mini orgasms.

Much, much later as we lay wrapped in each other's arms in post orgasmic contentment we talked about life, the future and our pasts. Then to prove I was a complete idiot I impulsively told her that I was falling for her and that if she weren't careful we could end up married. She hugged me extra hard but was silent for a minute before she spoke.

"Jon, this is really hard for me to say. I know that we have connected on a number of levels and that having sex with was really terrific. You are a marvelous lover and I suspect that if things progress as they have for the last few weeks that we could be in it for the long haul. That said, I love that you are comfortable enough with me to express your feelings. Just Please have patience with me and perhaps sooner rather than later I will be able to make a commitment. I have been badly burned in the past and I don't want to repeat that business." I was quiet for several minutes and then being the quick wit that I am said "So is it OK if I suck on your nipples?"

*********

During the period leading up to midterms we saw each other at least once a day and worked in some mind-blowing sex as often as possible. I had learned my lesson about blurting out my feelings and so I just used my lips in a more productive way.

Six days a week I had rehab sessions and after a month or so and many sexy massages from Fiona, I was able to get rid of the cane and then even start a limited jogging program. I also found school a lot easier than I had my first year at the "W" but it was probably just the added maturity of my Corps experience. I had had hands on computer experience in the Service and that really helped me in my Computer Science courses. In fact, I was doing so well in those classes that I was considering Programming or Engineering as a major.

The only fly in the ointment of our relationship was Fiona's sorority. She had pledged her freshman year and was required to take a certain number of meals at the house and to attend all rush and social parties. The parties were the problem. Each was co sponsored by a fraternity and was a method for the Greek community to mix and if the guys had their way, to practice procreation. I attended a several of the fall parties and managed to keep the frat boys hands off Fiona but it was a struggle to do so and still be polite. It hit the fan seriously at the fall Tri Delt party when a big bruiser wouldn't take no for an answer when he tried to cut in on us while dancing. When he roughly pulled us apart and grabbed at Fiona, I used my hand to hand training and put him down hard and bleeding.

Fiona stood there jaw gaping as her gentle boyfriend held out his hand to continue dancing. We ignored Asshole writhing on the floor and finished the dance. By now the lights came up and Assholes buddies were tending to him and looking over at me in a menacing fashion. When Fiona suggested we leave I said "After I say goodby to your friends." We then walked over to Asshole and I inquired as to whether he had anything to say to my date. He looked down and then mumbled "sorry miss."

With that we went looking for our coats and left. Fiona was quiet for about a half block but then abruptly pulled me into some tall bushes and announced she needed to be fucked immediately. There, just off Langdon street we had a short and intense fuck. Before I could even get my pants open she had ripped off her panties and was bending over presenting her gorgeous ass. She was dripping wet as I speared into her clutching pussy. Within two minutes she was crying out in a throbbing sobbing orgasm. That night she stayed over and we fucked till at least 3 AM. Between events she told me that she had never been fought over before and guess what, it turned her on. It also scared her just how abruptly and easily I had turned into a weapon of destruction.

The next morning she had to get back to her dorm for a change of clothes and then get over to her Sorority House for the mandatory Sunday dinner. I worked out and took care of some class assignments and even had time for a short nap when the phone rang. Fiona was in tears because the President of her Sorority had told her that I was blacklisted from parties because of brawling. Turns out the Asshole was hospitalized overnight and that his father was making noise about a lawsuit. I calmed her down and got the Presidents name.

After making arrangements for Fiona to come over later I called Madam Pres. She sounded sort of snooty on the phone when I identified myself. I then proceeded to inform her that there were three videos of the event which show the provocation and my measured response to the assault on one of her members. I went on to inform her that my Grandfather and Father were major allumni contributors to the school and that my father was head of the largest law firm in Chicago so bring on the suit. As for the blacklisting, I told her to stick her parties up her ass. Have a nice day.

Fiona was quiet that night and we had a dinner of pizza, beer and some gentle and somewhat more restrained lovemaking. At 10 I helped her find all of her clothes and walked her back to her dorm. We had not talked about the blacklisting but I knew it was a problem. Fiona was a dyed in the wool sorority girl and was a "legacy" of her house. Her mother was some sort of higher up in the national alumni group and so there was no way Fiona could quit the organization and she was still bound to go to all the parties. The eventual compromise we worked out was that Fiona would help set up for the parties and with the permission of the Pres, leave by 8:30. That gave us time for a late movie or dinner and then back to my place for a romp in the sack.

I didn't think we had any problems and I periodically asked her if the boys were keeping their hands to themselves. She always told me "no problem sweetheart." In late Fall I had be gone on Saturday once for some family business and another time for a Corp Allumni Group meeting that I had joined. When I asked her about those party nights she was a little vague about how late she was there and what of interest happened.

It was shortly before Halloween when I ran into the Pres in the University Bookstore. She greeted me with a big smile and launched into the following. She was so sorry for the mixup over that brutish idiot but wondered why I was't coming to the parties with Fiona. Had we broken up? She was supposed to tell me all was forgiven and she hoped I had gotten the message because the biggest event of the year was the Halloween party at the Sorority house.

I thanked her profusely and told her that there were no hard feelings and that Fiona and I were just taking a little break. I asked her not to mention anything about our conversation and we parted amicably.

That night I told Fiona that I had to go and visit my Grandfather in the hospital and would miss the festivities in Madison. Halloween is a really big deal in the city and on the campus. Everyone dresses up in costumes and lots of booze is consumed. Fiona was a little upset but not as much as one would expect. She did ask me to give her regards to my grandfather and she stayed over on Thursday night to give me a multi orgasm sendoff that lasted into Friday morning. I'll have to admit that we didn't make love, we fucked and fucked and fucked.

I went to classes on Friday and then pretended to leave town. I slept in Saturday, worked on my costume and finished off a term paper and a computer project. I ate a light supper and at 8PM I became Zorro. Black pants, shirt, head scarf, mask and painted on mustache.

The doorkeeper at the Sorority house complimented me on my outfit and directed me to the stairs to the lower level. I grabbed a beer and even danced with a couple of the wallflowers. They weren't especially good looking but they weren't dogs either because the sorority wouldn't have let them in if they were. I guess that either party attendance was mandatory or they were just horny and were looking for a little action. What really held my interest for the evening was the red haired belly dancer. Her costume consisted of a g string, pasties that barely covered her nipples and some gauzy see through harem pants. The bells on her wrists and ankles were a charming addition to the outfit. To say she was the hit of the party would be an understatement. Not only was she wearing the most risqué costume but she appeared to be the date of three jocks that kept passing her around on the dance floor and in the dark alcoves just off to the sides. As the party wore on her pasties kept coming off as the jocks played with them.

I had assumed that if I ever saw a wife or girlfriend in a cheating kind of situation like this that I would be insanely jealous and violently attack the offender. This real life situation frankly baffled me. I was not angry and I was not turned on at all despite the over the top eroticism of the scene. The emotion that I felt was sadness that a part of my life that I thought had been going along quite well was instead nothing but a charade. How could I have been so dense to not see what was going on and what, if anything, had I done wrong to cause the infidelity. And so I danced with the wallflowers occasionally, quietly drank and watched the former love of my life play the skanky slut.

About 10 I went over and got another beer from the bar and when I returned to the wallflowers I noticed two things. The first was that the belly dancer and her retinue were gone and second that a really good looking willowy girl costumed as Morticia Adams was standing with her sisters. Her dress was cut to the belly button and the side view of her nicely proportioned tits was stunning. She also had the most beautiful straight black hair that I had ever seen. Of course I marched right up to her and bowing introduced my self as Zorro and asked for the honor of the next dance. We danced several times play acting as our characters and then got serious. She asked why I was here and other than the obvious sex show, why was I spending so much time watching the Sophomore Slut swapping spit with the Three Stooges.