Vanessa's Revenge

Vanessa parked her car a short distance from the front door she'd been watching for weeks now. This was part of her regular routine, and she had learned to understand the signals that the people in the house were home. And tonight they were, inside sharing a meal and glass of wine, perhaps, or maybe watching TV. Whatever it was, she knew it would be cozy and intimate.

She'd never been this angry before. When she had been Philip's girlfriend she used to shake her head when listening to her friends' stories about the heartache of broken relationships, supposing she would never be afflicted by such intense and childish jealousy. And yet here she was, loitering out the front of the house she used to share with him.

Hers and Philip's relationship was probably destined to fail, she saw now. But for a while it had been so great, and it had been easy to believe that they were the perfect couple. So easy that she'd let her guard down and agreed much more readily than she otherwise would to move in together after only a few months. But when they had started to grow apart, and then she found out he was sleeping around, she had lost all hope for a while. She had been pleased for herself that she'd recovered so quickly and that she'd dealt with it so philosophically. That was until she started seeing Philip around the neighbourhood with a new woman in tow.

She remembered the first time she'd seen this woman and had been startled to notice that she was virtually a carbon copy of herself. That fact was as unsettling as anything else. Since then she'd formed and interest in their goings on which was so out of character for her.

And now here she was, again.

She watched the doors and curtains, waiting for she didn't know what. The key to the front door that she still owned dangled from the keyring in her car's ignition. She watched as a light was turned on in a back room and could see the luminescent flare as somebody checked their phone's messages in the front room. And then she watched as the front door opened and Philip led his new whore out into the dusk and into his car, obviously heading out for the evening. A surge of anger burned through her.

As she watched the car disappear around the corner, she moved to start her car and go home. But then a thought occurred to her. Does the whore use her old things? Does she occupy the same place in Philips mind and house that she used to? These thoughts ate away at her as she sat there, and an idea began to form in her mind. It wasn't rational, she knew, and it was borne of pure fury, but she was surprised at how easily it swept her away. Before too long she found herself using her old key to let herself into the house.

She stood at the doorway. Everywhere she looked the visible signs of the new bitch stood out. Her fists clenched. She walked from room to room, looking at the new bedspread, the replaced cushions, the new kitchenware. All trace of her seemed to have been removed. She walked to the bedroom where this new woman now fucked her ex boyfriend, and could immediately smell the faint smell of sex and sweat and the stronger fragrance of the whore's perfumes. Even her smell had been replaced! Out of everything, this was the thing that stood out to her most of all....how she'd been wiped clean of the place.

She picked up a pair of the whore's underpants from the floor and examined them. They were soft, delicate and flawless. Without thinking she slipped out of her shoes, unbuttoned her jeans and let them fall to the floor. She stepped out and them and yanked down her own tattered undies. She kicked them away and pulled the whore's underpants on, not surprised to find they fitted her perfectly. She walked to the mirror and twirled around in front of it, admiring herself. Again the anger flared as she imagined the bitch picking from a drawer full of beautiful lingerie every morning.

Despite her anger, she found that the feeling of the silk on her skin and looking at herself in the mirror was making her wet. She understood that it was her intrusion that was causing this, and considered for a moment removing the panties, re-dressing in her own clothes and departing. But again the anger overwhelmed here and instinctively she found herself grabbing a fistful of the front of the panties and yanking them up deep into her slit so that her juice would seep into the crotch. She grabbed the back of the panties and rolled her hips forward and back as she slid the fabric between her wet lips, the friction against her clit causing her to leak even more. When her forearms began to ache from the exertion, she stopped and regarded herself in the mirror.

Her hair was unkempt and her cheeks flushed, her chest heaved through her t-shirt. The crotch of the whore's silk panties that she was wearing were soaking wet. They sat wedged into her crack still, and she plucked them out and pulled them down and off. She loved the fact that her scent was now infused into the fabric, and placed them on the floor as she'd found them. Again she felt herself being turned on by the thought that this woman's underwear now smelt of another woman's cunt.

She opened the underwear drawer. In it were several pairs of panties, neatly folded. She took out the top pair and shook them out. They were white, with a lace front and small knot at the top. She put them on, returned to the mirror and slid her fingers inside herself. When her fingers had become coated with slick juice, she repeated the process with first those, then all the other pairs in the drawer, one pair after another. Soon there was a pile of wet panties at her feet which she picked up and folded neatly back into place inside the drawer. She was amazed at how this intrusive act of revenge made her feel...and wished she could be here to see the reaction when her intrusion was discovered. She opened Philips wardrobe and removed a handful of his ties. One by one she grabbed each end of the fabric and slid it slowly through her slick cunt. Now Philip would enjoy her every morning when he dressed himself for work....all day he would spend with the smell of her lingering in his nostrils, reminding him of what he's missing.

She looked around. The bed sat in the middle of the room, one side table containing only a lamp and a radio, the other covered with lotions and beauty products. She walked around to that side and sat on the edge of the bed. The feel of the smooth bedspread on her naked buttocks again caused a tingle in her clit, and she rotated her arse firmly onto the spread. She lifted the whore's pillow out from under the covers and sniffed it. It smelt of the perfume and shampoo of her rival, the woman who fucks her former boyfriend in this very bed. She sniffed the pillow again and while she did that she spread her legs and used her fingers to stroke her moist lips.

She stood, turned around and knelt on the side of the bed, lowered the pillow from under her nose and slid it between her legs. It was firm and thick, and provided excellent resistance to someone wanting to ride it. She started to roll her hips backward and forward against the fabric of the pillow. She leaned forward and clasped the front of the pillow as if riding a bucking bronco. The pillow crease worked its way into her crack, tickling her arse as she rode it.

She was reminded of the many times she'd ridden Philip, remembering how he loved to lie back and let her take charge of him. She recalled hanging on to the bedhead as she rode him, feeling his cock penetrating her deeply and smelling the sweat and juices they generated. He would watch her tits bounce proudly as her arse slapped again and again on his hips and thighs. And she remembered how her hard, sensitive nipples would gently scrape against the hair on his chest when she leaned forward to whisper obscenities in his ear, and have him tell her what he wanted to do to her. Then they would hear and feel each other's breath on their sweaty skin and she would grind her hips and tighten her cunt muscles as hard as she could as he thrust into her. She thought of the perfect times when they would cum together in a sweaty heap, right here in this bed that she was now crouched on, defiling the pillow belonging to her replacement. The thought of the whore smelling her as she lay down to sleep that night made Vanessa cum in a gushing rush, and she ground her cunt down onto the fabric, creating a large wet smear.

She lay back, her chest heaving, and took a moment to recover herself. As she placed the pillow back under the covers, she plucked 2 pubic hairs out of her bush and stuck them to the wet patch on the pillow. She grinned to herself, replaced the covers, and patted down the smooth new bedspread. And that gave her an idea. She lifted one foot on the edge of the bed and spread her flaps apart with her fingers. She took aim and shot several small squirts of piss onto the bedside carpet. Her territory marked, she grabbed her pants and shoes and left the bedroom.

The thought of making Philip and the whore smell her juice had turned her on more than she could remember. And she felt like she was just getting started. She made her way to the living room where she fucked herself with the tv remote, the portable phone and a few small ornaments. She rode both arms of the plush black sofa, coating them in a noticeable thick slime of fluid. She giggled to herself thinking about that. Philip had a habit of resting the tv remote against his lips while deciding what to watch, and, if the whore was anything like Vanessa, she'd be only a matter of hours from laying her head on the cum stained sofa arms.

She moved to the kitchen and examined the meticulously placed kitchenware on the benches. One by one she took them out of the rack and slid them into herself long enough to get a coating of her juice, and then placed them back where they belonged. She intended to coat everything she could see with her fluids. She fucked several large knives, tongs, a large knife sharpener and took special care and attention to the plastic rolling pin on the bench. Once each had a gleaming film of cum on them, she would move to the next item. She inserted six teaspoons into her cunt simultaneously and stood in the kitchen rubbing her clit wildly, before replacing the spoons neatly in the drawer.

Having been tantalised by the thickness of the rolling pin, she moved the fridge. She was unsure now whether it was all about revenge anymore, she was so horny. She understood she was now also under the spell of her own desire, and this actually sharpened her focus.

She pulled out the vegetable drawer and drew out the frigid carrots, celery and cucumber that were lying within it. One by one she inserted the thinner of the vegetables, gasping at times as the cold mass met her own warm flesh. She loved this act of defilement, and fluid flooded her hole as she imagined them both sitting down to a salad in their evening meal coated with Vanessa. Finally she picked up the cucumber and stroked it with her hand as she admired its size. She was so wet that she knew she could handle it up her, and couldn't wait to get it in. She closed the fridge door and grasped the cucumber.

She stood in the middle of her ex-boyfriends kitchen floor and spread her legs as wide as she could whilst standing. She spread her flaps with her fingers and rubbed the smooth, cold knob of the cucumber around her wet pink hole and throbbing clit. The coldness of the flesh gave her goose bumps all over the rest of her body. With gentle force, she slid the massive vegetable up into her hole and twirled it slowly around so it could press further. When it was in as far as it could go she left it there for a moment while at the same time clenching her pelvic muscles around the thick girth.

Slowly she started to slide it in and out, the strokes gradually quickening in pace and depth. She allowed herself total indulgence, fired by the thought of defiling herself in this whore's pristine kitchen. Her head rolled back and her moans began quietly at first until they became jerky and louder with each vigorous thrust. Sensing she was close to cumming, she redoubled her efforts at fucking herself and rolled her hips whilst clenching her arse cheeks in time with her thrusts. She felt so dirty at this point that she no longer had any inhibitions and threw herself into her self love with abandon.

Finally, with every muscle clenching with excitement, she collapsed to her knees as she came for the second time in a burst of the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced.

She pulled the cucumber out of herself and laid it on the floor while she allowed her feelings of relief to overcome her. She lay on her forearms, her breath heaving in and out, sweat dripping onto the kitchen floor.

When she recovered she simply collected her things and slid out the front door as easily as she'd entered. Her rage still burned, but she grinned to herself as she started her car and thought of all the delights inside waiting for Phillip and Vanessa. She drove home and had the best night's sleep she'd had for months.