Crude (Oil) RevengebyBOSTONFICTIONWRITER©
Even though she had wealth, wore the best designer clothes, and had hairstylists give her the best cut and color, cosmeticians remove her facial hair, give her facials and do her makeup, had personal chefs prepare her strict yet delicious dietary menus, personal trainers plan her exercise targets and routine, and a plastic surgeon nip and tuck away her wrinkles; she was still a plain looking woman. Nonetheless, it was my dedicated mission to not only seduce her but also to fuck her husband at the same time.
I knew that I could, after all, I was a good looking and smart guy. Besides, what lonely and horny matronly woman would ever turn down an opportunity for a romp in the hay with a hot, young stud, especially when she knew that her husband was cheating on her with his young and beautiful secretary? All that I needed for my plan to work was to pick the right time and find the right place, so as to make it appear serendipitous and not arranged.
Because Vinnie was my best friend and their chauffeur, ex-chauffeur, that is, who they called Vincent, I already knew much about her. I knew where she lived, the make, model, color, and license plate of the car she was chauffeured around town in, the hair salon she frequented, and the times and days that she went to the country club to workout and/or play a round of tennis or golf. I even knew that she and her husband had separate bedrooms and that his was hot with lust and desires for the affection of others while hers was cold with distain and distant for the advances of him.
I was outraged when her husband fired Vinnie because he suspected that he knew too much about his extramarital affairs and feared that he would tell his wife. My friend, a gay man, could care less if this titan of industry fucked an army of virgins. He loved his job and appreciated the good money that he was earning, finally, after being unemployed for nearly a year. Yet, I am not a gay man and I do care if this titan of industry fucks an army of virgins, when, in actuality, he has already fucked me and you. Now, I was going to avenge all the evil wrongdoings that this greedy, self-appointed Demigod has done to the millions of average, hardworking people like us.
Her husband hired a new chauffeur; I saw him driving his wife around town a few times. He looked young, nervous, and did not appear to be the caliber of driver that her husband usually hired, such as my friend, Vinnie, a highly trained executive chauffeur with a black belt in Kick Boxing, a college education, and one who was very personable and articulate. Her new chauffeur gave me the idea for my plan.
I shaved, showered, donned my best suit, grabbed my briefcase, and looked my impeccably handsome best. I drove over to where I knew she would be on Monday afternoons whenever her husband left for the airport with his secretary.
Just as her chauffeur was backing up from the curb at the Four Seasons Hotel in Boston, where she had brunch with the ladies, I stepped out and slammed my knee hard into her back fender pretending to be hit. Immediately, the car lurched forward to a stop and the chauffeur, resplendent in his blue uniform decorated with gold buttons and matching blue cap with black visor, got out and appeared at the rear of the car.
"Sir," he said, squatting down to my level, "are you injured?"
Sheila Farnsworthy lowered her window.
"William! What's wrong? Why have we stopped?"
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," William popped up, stepped toward her, and leaned closer to her open window, "I backed into a man." He looked back at me sitting at the curb and turned back to address her. "I never saw him," he said in a panicked voice. "He appeared from out of nowhere."
Mrs. Farnsworthy stuck her head out the window and turned in my direction. I gave her my best Chippendale smile. I could tell from her reaction that she liked what she saw. Clearly, she could see my legs were beneath the rear of the car where I had placed them after William stopped the vehicle.
"Are you hurt, young man?"
"My leg, I twisted my leg."
"William, assist the man. We'll drive him to the hospital."
William helped me to my feet and with an arm around his shoulder; he seated me in the back seat of the car.
"I'm Freddie," I said, extending my hand to her with a grimace. "I'm so sorry for the trouble," I looked at my watch, "but I was late for a meeting and did not look before crossing."
"Don't be foolish," she said shaking my hand. "I'm Sheila," she said holding her eye contact longer than necessary. "William is a new chauffeur and is unfamiliar with the vehicle. I am sure it was his fault." I could tell by her eyes and by her expression that she was impressed with my looks.
"May I call to cancel my meeting?"
"Yes, of course," she said handing me the car phone. I waved her off, reached in my inside breast pocket, and pulled out my cellular.
"Hello, this is Freddie. I am unable to make our meeting and will have to reschedule. I have had a bit of an automobile accident. Thank you. Good-bye." I turned to her. "Damn voice machines, I hate them," I said talking about my own voice machine at home where I left my phony message.
"Do you have a particular hospital where we can take you?"
I bent and stretched my leg as I rubbed my knee.
"There is no need for a hospital," I said with a feigned grimace. "All that I need is to rest for a bit somewhere where I can stretch out my leg, a couch or the floor, perhaps."
"Of course," she said pushing the intercom. "Home, William." She turned to me. "We have a guesthouse. You can rest there. I'll summon the doctor there to check your condition."
"Thank you," I smiled making sure to make eye contact. "You are too kind."
"William," she said over the intercom. "Telephone Doctor Goldberg and have him meet us at the house."
"Yes, Madam" William's voice immediately filled the back of the car.
Within a few minutes we turned into a gated driveway that carved through manicured grounds. The guesthouse was to the right and behind the grand mansion on the other side of the pool. After dropping off Sheila at the main house, William circled around and drove me to the guesthouse. He helped me inside delivering me to the bed in the master suite.
"The doctor will arrive in a moment," he said leaving alone me to relax.
Within five minutes, the doctor arrived and examined me.
"Well, there is nothing broken. There is a bit of swelling and some bruising. Have the butler fill this prescription for your pain and put an icepack on your knee until the swelling goes down. You should be up and walking around in a day or so."
"Thank you, Doctor."
I had removed my pants so that the doctor could examine my leg. Now, once I was alone, I removed my underwear so that Mrs. Farnsworthy could examine my other leg.
I threw the sheet over my nakedness but left my leg exposed from the knee down when I heard her knock on the front door of the guesthouse.
"Come in. It's open," I said in a pained voice.
"How is your leg?" I saw her look down at the bulge that my cock made beneath the sheet. "The doctor informed me that you are very lucky and that there is nothing broken," she said never removing her eyes from my growing erection
"Yes, but it is very swollen."
"I can see that," she said still staring at the impression my cock made beneath the sheet. "Is there anything that I can get you?"
"Actually, there is," I said looking up at her with a smile, "do you have an icepack?"
"Yes, there is one in the kitchen. Our last guest hurt her knee playing tennis."
She returned with the icepack and I pulled the covers back enough to expose more of my leg and the muscles of my upper thigh. She placed the icepack on my knee and held it there while I closed my eyes in a feigned, pained expression.
"Does it hurt terribly? Is there anything else that I can do for you?"
"Actually, I could use a stiff drink."
"Of course, what can I get you?"
"Scotch with a touch of water." I waited for her to almost leave the room. "And you could keep me company, if you don't mind, and have a drink with me." I emitted a pained sound. "The pain is less when I have someone here to take my mind off of it.
"Well, I can, certainly, do that for you and I shall stay as long as you would like," she said from the other room. She returned with the drinks and sat on the bed by my leg holding the icepack with her free hand. "I must say that you are being a very, good sport about this."
"Nonsense, it was my fault."
With the arrival of our third drink, I had Sheila stand by the end of the bed and slowly pull on my leg from my ankle while I massaged my knee making sure that my cock made a brief and sudden, surprise appearance every time I tried bending my leg. I could tell by her fleeting glances and flushed complexion that I was getting to her. Every time she emerged from the bar with a fresh drink, another button on her blouse was undone. She was giving me some great down blouse views of her surgical enhanced breasts every time she fussed over me.
When she finished her third drink and relaxed on the bed beside my leg holding the icepack on my knee, I wrapped my hand around her arm, pulled her to me, and kissed her. Immediately, she offered me her tongue. She was so easy to seduce.
My kisses made her wild with passion. She allowed me to reach down her blouse and feel her breast through her bra and then to reach in her bra and finger her already erect nipple. Then, I reached up her skirt and moved my hand up between her legs feeling and rubbing her panty clad mound. I pushed her silk panty aside and touched her warm moistness with my fingers. I fingered her clit and teased her hole with my fingers. Already, she was very wet.
"I want you," I breathe into her ear.
"Your leg," she said pulling away from me, "what about your leg?"
"My desire for you makes my leg feel better," I said, suddenly feeling like Antonio Banderas, a bit brazen and bold. I flung off the sheet exposing my cock. I took her by the wrist and put her hand on my erect cock.
She took me in her hand wrapping her fingers tightly around me while gently stroking me to a harder erection.
"Your leg looks good to me," she said looking down at my cock. She looked up at me and with a devilish grin; she slid halfway down the bed and took me in her mouth.
I pulled her up to me and stripping her naked, I slowly removed her blouse, bra, skirt, and panty. I had my way with her and I fucked her numerous times in every hole. I could tell by her passion that it had been a long time since she had a man. Then, I waited until the alcohol worked its magic and she drifted off to sleep. I stood over her and jerked off giving her face a cum bath. Then, I removed the camera from my briefcase and took candid photos of her in every position, especially those that showed my cum all over her face with my cock positioned by her opened mouth. I took more photos of her exposed ass with my cock positioned between her ass crack.
The next day, along with the photos, I mailed this letter to her husband.
Dear Mr. Farnsworthy,
Your company made record profits last year by price gouging hard working people like me. There is really no need to charge the American public more than $3.00 a gallon for gasoline when your company is making tens of billions of dollars in net profit each quarter, now is there?
I figured you would say that it is only business, so I did a little business of my own with your lovely wife, Sheila. She is a very lustful lover and I made sure that I stuck my hard cock up her ass in the way that you stick it up all of our asses with the sudden and frequent price hikes in gasoline and home heating oil. As you can determine from the enclosed photographs, we had a really good time of it. By the way, as you can see from all of my cum on your wife's face, she gave me one of the best blow jobs that I have ever had.
Now, if you do not want me to make these photos public and ruin her reputation and your social standing at the country club, then you will agree to my demands, unless, of course, you insist that I pay a visit to your secretary and get her in an uncompromising position, as well.
I want a lifetime gasoline card and I want you to rehire my friend Vinnie, Vincent, as you refer to him, as your chauffeur, along with a significant raise in salary. That is not much to ask in return for my not ruining your wife's life and your comfortable lifestyle.
A few days later, I received in the mail, a gasoline card with an unlimited open balance, along with this letter.
You were randomly chosen from all of our valued customers to compete in our first and only drawing. I am happy to tell you that you have won a lifetime gasoline card with an unlimited open balance. Please feel free to use it as often and as much as you wish.
Also, you can reach me at 227-5533. I like your style.
Veronica Roberts, Personal and Private Secretary
I was able to not only pay for all of my gasoline with it but also my auto repairs and hotel stays.
Vinnie got his job back with a very generous raise and Sheila and I get it on every time Mr. Farnsworthy takes an extended business trip with his secretary. Life is good.
You know, now that I think of it, I did not reach high enough to wield my revenge. In the right lighting, that Laura Bush is not a bad looking woman, and she has a decent rack. And those twins, Jenna and Barbara are two party girls at heart. All that I really need to do is to come up with a plan to circumvent the secret service. I already have my letter written.
Dear Mr. President,
Laura and I had a wonderful time last evening after you decided to take a tour of Iraq. Oh, and your daughters were very hospitable to me by inviting me to sleep over in their apartment, in their bedroom, and in their bed with them by my side naked.
In regards to the enclosed nude photos of your wife and daughters, I really do not want to pay anymore federal income taxes.
Oh, and I think a cushy, no show job with the government is in order, don't you? I'm thinking about a position somewhere that is far away from your family, where I can sip coffee at the outdoor café all day. I'm thinking about a position in the American Embassy in France.
I imagined receiving a letter from the President.
This country values your dedicated service as an American. I personally want to thank you for being a special friend to my wife and daughters in their time of need.
I only wish we had an Embassy in Outer Mongolia but we do not. The best that I can do to show my appreciation is to reward you with the monetary compensation that you deserve and by assigning you with our American Embassy in Paris, France.
Thank you. God bless America and please do not contact me ever again.
George W. Bush