Vengeance in a DVD

I returned home in the evening grateful that I managed to beat the traffic, and opened the front door and yelled: "Honey, I'm home!" but all I got was silence.

Cathy wasn't home.

I slammed shut the door and dropped my briefcase in the living room and went looking upstairs and sure enough, it was empty. She had probably gone to her friend's place or stopped by the gym. She had turned into a fitness nut over the past couple of weeks for no apparent reason. Not that I had any complaints; anything to get her out of the house and out of mind for a while was good for me.

I got out of my clothes and went and had myself a warm shower, changed into fresh pair of clothes then returned to the living room. Still no sign of Cathy. I was double-minded about whether to give her a call or not. If she was at the gym then chances are she wouldn't be near her phone. I figured I could wait; let her have her fun while she can.

There was a DVD case lying on the centre table that I hadn't noticed when I entered and dropped my briefcase. It bore a note tapped on it that simply stated: HAROLD, WATCH ME! I picked up the case and opened it. A DVD disc was inside with no name on it. Whether it was some prank on her part or not, there was only one way to tell for sure.

I went and switched on the DVD player and inserted the disc into the slot then sat in my favourite chair, holding the TV remote in hand which I used to switch it on.

The movie came on seconds later. It was a video recording. There was Cathy sitting on a bed cross-legged in some bedroom. A frown creased my brow as it occurred to me that I recognised the room she was in.

It was our bedroom!

She was wearing her gym outfit—purple spandex blouse and short, minus her trainers; her blonde hair was tied in a bun which she usually left it. She sat like she was about to perform yoga while staring at the video recorder. Staring straight at me.

"Hi, Harold," she waved at the camera. "If you're watching this DVD, then you should know I made it just for you. You're probably going to get mad about what it shows, but right now I don't fucking care. This is something I've held off from doing for a while now. Ever since I found out about your cheating habit."

She paused as if to let me soak in what I just heard her say. And yes, I did hear her perfectly. I have fucked around—yeah, I said it. Tell me what man who hasn't? But I tried my damnnest best to hide it from her. How did fuck did she find out?

As if reading my mind, she then said: "Don't worry about how I got to find out. Just know that I did. This isn't the first time you've done this, but hopefully now you'll get to know how much it hurts. I almost thought you'd be man enough to tell me about it. Instead you had me find out in the worst type of way. I've been contemplating with myself how best to repay you, and this is what I thought would be best. Oops! Excuse me."

It was her phone ringing. She picked it up from where it lay beside her and said: "yeah, come on in. Yes, it's open. Just come up the stairs. Okay." She hung up after that then returned to me.

"I'm expecting some fun company, Harold. The type of men you always despise. You're a racist, remember? Can you then guess what sort of men I'm having over?"

I sat forward in the couch. My mind percolated with dread at what she meant, if really it was what I thought she meant. And no, I'm not a racist . . . well, not in the literary sense, I think. I simply don't like associating with black people. I prefer they stay on their own lane as I'd apt to do likewise. There's no hating in that, is there?

There happened to be a knock at the door. Cathy came down from the bed and went to open it. I couldn't help uttering a gasp. My worst fears had finally come to life. In walked not one, but two black men. Into our home . . . into our fucking bedroom!

My God, Cathy . . . what have you done?

She returned to the camera and lifted it from where she had stood it. Her face filled the TV screen as she spoke to me.

"These two gentlemen are Larry and Gil," she focused the camera on either of them as she mentioned their names. They smiled at waved at the camera, like they could actually picture me watching them. Cathy resumed talking. "I met them at the gym that I've been visiting. They've been helping me work on my abs. But besides that, they've been fucking me for the past two weeks; why else do you think I'm always leaving for the gym? I'm burning more calories fucking than lifting weights, Harold."

She threw her head back and laughed.

"Yes, Harold. I've been cheating on you, just as you've been doing it to me. You're probably going to divorce me once you're done watching this, and like I said, I don't fucking care. Anyway, about time I stopped talking and get to work. Have fun jerking off to this."

Cathy kissed her palm then blew it at me and returned the camera back where she had picked it from. She went and faced the two black men in the room. Already they were out of their clothes. One of them helped her with her blouse and the other with her shorts. She laughed while they undressed her, taking turn to kiss both men. She loosened her hair.

The three of them got on the bed and stood on either side of her. Cathy knelt in their midst, facing the recording camera like she didn't want me missing a thing, and went back and forth sucking their cock. The men chuckled and made snide comments while she stroked their manhood into her mouth. They played with her breasts. One of them whose head was neatly shaved—Larry—left her side and came under her. His head slid between her legs and he remained there eating her pussy while she went on sucking Gil's cock.

I sat there boiling angry. I picked up the DVD remote and paused the movie and hurried into the kitchen to fix myself a drink; I reckon I was going to need a large one for what I was watching. In the back of my head I kept praying for the front door to open and let it be Cathy. Boy, I'd love to just . . .

But wait . . . what if she'd packed?

I left the bottle of scotch on the kitchen counter and dashed out of the room and up the stairs. I stumbled as I entered the bedroom and went and flung the closet open. I swept my hand and eyes along her clothes. Nothing seemed to come to mind, but then I looked down and realised a bag of hers was missing. I checked through her clothes once more and then noticed several were missing. Wherever she was right now, she obviously didn't intend returning home soon. Which was good because the state I was in, I doubt even the neighbours or cops would calm me down.

Chagrined, I returned to the kitchen to fix my drink then took it with me to continue the movie.

Gil had Cathy lying on her back and propped her feet against his shoulder and went ahead jerking in and out of her pussy. Larry knelt beside her and went ahead with fucking her face. The sound quality was feeble on account that the camera was a little far off. I thumbed the volume on the remote to the highest so I could hear clearly the guttural sounds she made as she took their dick. Gil was feeding her with lengthy strokes: he'd pull backward then ram into her hard. Cathy jerked and groaned each time he did that. Afterwards he pulled out and came off the bed as his buddy then took his place.

Larry was all force and no kidding around when he got to fuck Cathy. He positioned her to be on her elbows and knees and I watched him spit down on his dick before shoving it between her legs. Cathy groaned loud when he penetrated her. Obviously she enjoyed his fucking a lot from the way she kept hollering his name and staring back at him over her shoulder. By this time, I had already freed my dick out of my shorts and was stroking my cock with one hand and sipping my scotch drink with the other. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't help myself.

Goddamn you, Cathy! Damn you, cheating bitch!

My mind was twisted as I sat there watching another man—a black man, Oh my fucking God—fuck the shit out of my wife in my bedroom and home while I was away at work—not knowing what to seriously make of it. On one part I was angry. On the other, saddened that she had actually decided to pay me back in my own medicine. But this was the worst type of payment any man could ask for.

Gil climbed onto the bed and went in front of Cathy and she went ahead sucking his cock while Larry kept on fucking her. He grabbed a handful of her hair and just went on pounding her hard. Even from where I sat with the volume tuned to the max, I could hear Cathy moaning like she was deeply feeling it. I got me jerking my cock harder. I drained my scotch drink and luxuriated in my masturbation.

They switched places: Larry got on his back.

Cathy got on top of him, riding him hard.

Gil came on top and fucked her ass.

I was groaning aloud too and just like that I shot my load across my thigh. Never had I fucked Cathy in the ass before. Hard to believe that all this time she had been doing that to others except me.

"Hi, darling."

I turned toward the direction of the voice and gasped. Cathy stood at the doorway in her runaway clothes, holding her travel bag that she had taken with her. The TV was still on, playing the DVD with the volume on high. There she stood staring at me expressionless. There I sat staring back at her, looking like a dumb fool holding my flaccid penis in my hand.

"Welcome back, honey," I croaked.