Erotic Stories and True Confessions

 

A Revenge Fuck
I fucked the bitch's husband. - by Melissa

    My fingers hammered into the keys of the keyboard angrily.  That horrid, gossiping bitch was going to pay if it was the last thing I did.  The worst of it was, I really liked my job.  I had just moved to Muncie from Chicago to try and start a new life after the divorce.  I got a job at Johnson Consulting as a receptionist just over a month ago and, so far, most of the girls in the office were sweet.  All of them, in fact, except for Charlotte.

    She had taken an instant dislike to me and the feeling was more than mutual.  As a single mom with a teenage daughter, I was hard-pressed to make ends meet, especially in the age of Nikes, PDAs, and new computer accessories that every teen seemed to require in four-month increments.

    Charlotte took special delight in flaunting her status as the company rich bitch.  Her husband made enough money that she didn’t need to work, she only did so to keep from being bored while her perfect kids were at school getting their perfect grades.  Charlotte would go on and on about her wonderful, successful, perfect husband.  If I heard one more story about Perfect Randy, I was going to go off like a Scud missile.

    Charlotte was the office gossip, also, and the worst one I had ever met.  Vicious gossip was her specialty.  She constantly made snarky comments about how the boss had slept with three different secretaries, how a former coworker had become pregnant at the company Christmas party and no one really knew who the father was, how the Sales Manager’s wife had complained to her about the size of his dick…

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    Charlotte had tried hard to dig up dirt on me.  I had intentionally stayed very close-mouthed about my life before Muncie.  If Charlotte ever found out that my husband had dumped me because I had cheated on him on three separate occasions, well… I would be the new company laughingstock and I might as well put an article in the local paper, because Charlotte would be certain to spread that story far and wide.

    Today, however, Charlotte had apparently gotten tired of waiting for the real dirt to surface and had decided to make some up, instead.  I had been standing at the fax machine waiting for a confidential fax to go through, though the machine was on terminal redial, when I had overheard Charlotte talking with Judy, the temp.  I had ignored the conversation at first.  Until I heard my name.  I had quickly scooted closer to the door.  They did not suspect I was there, as people usually just threw the fax on the machine and let it redial itself.

    “…heard that Melissa’s husband dumped her for a younger woman.  Margie’s daughter heard it at school from a friend who has a class with Melissa’s daughter.  Can you imagine?  Poor thing must have been devastated to find herself booted out into the cold by some woman barely older than her daughter.  I heard she was so upset she went out and got a boob job.  It’s obvious those things aren’t real…”  Charlotte laughed wickedly.  My blood boiled.  That fucking bitch!  My breasts were double the size of that scrawny two-faced bitch’s and they were 100% real, too.

    Charlotte went on, “It’s just too bad all husbands can’t be as good as my Randy.  He would never cheat on me.  He’s so romantic.  Why, just yesterday he took me to…”  Charlotte babbled on about Perfect Randy and I went back to the fax thoughtfully.  It was time for some judicious vengeance.

    I finished the document I was typing and answered the phone a few times, all the while plotting.  I had been online most of the afternoon and I now knew the address of the BMW dealership where Perfect Randy worked.  That was a simple matter since Charlotte mentioned the place about thirty times a day.

    When I went home, I fixed a quick dinner and left the remainder on the stove with a note for my daughter not to wait up.  I would probably get home before she did, anyway.  She was either at the mall or at a friend’s house.

    I changed my clothes and drove straight to the BMW dealership, glad that my Honda was relatively new and in good condition.  If I drove up in a beater car, Perfect Randy would have known immediately that I couldn’t afford a Beamer.

    A salesman approached with a smarmy smile and superior attitude.  For a moment I was sorry I wasn’t buying a car.  I loved being a hardass when it came to car deals.  The last three dealerships managers I had dealt with had watched me drive away gnashing their teeth and wondering where their balls had gone.

    “Can you direct me to Randy Weber?” I asked sweetly.  The guy sighed in disappointment and pointed to a tall, dark-haired man chatting with a coffee-cup holding salesman across the lot.  I trotted that way.

    “Randy?” I gushed as I approached.  “Hi!  I’m Melissa.  My friend Mary told me to look you up if I was in the market for a car and… well, here I am.

    Randy’s eyes slid over me, but I could tell he was sizing up my financial status rather than checking out my bra size.  I planned to change that.  He took in the cashmere sweater and pearls and smiled pleasantly.

    “Great!” he said.  He wasn’t bad looking, I had to admit.  He was very tall and had sandy-blonde hair with a hint of curl to it.  He looked to be in his late 40s, but had a decent physique with only a hint of paunch around the middle.  I was glad he had turned out to be a nice package.  “What would you like to see?” he continued.

    Your wife’s head on a plate, I thought, but aloud I said, “I’m thinking about an M3.”  I hadn’t known a fucking thing about BMWs until this afternoon when I’d spent plenty of company time doing research.

    Randy led me across the lot and I took the opportunity to unbutton my sweater and slide it off.

    “Warm evening, isn’t it?” I asked and grinned when his eyes went back to my chest, for the right reason this time.  I had worn a peach-colored snap-front bustier with lace trim that shoved my large breasts up to the overflow point.  The lace trim barely covered my nipples.  The black skirt I wore was tight and borderline indecent, showing off my long legs to their best advantage.

    Randy opened the door for me and I slid into the driver’s seat of the red M3.  I caressed the steering wheel.

    “Oh, wow, I love that new car smell.  It turns me on.”

    I pretended to check out the features while Randy droned on, but when I twisted to get out, I made sure to spread my legs and scoot out slightly so the skirt rode up and gave Randy the Perfect Husband a clear shot of my crotch and the fact that I was not wearing underwear.

    His eyes nearly bugged out, though he recovered quickly and cleared his throat.

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    “Are there any with manual transmissions?” I asked.  “I love the feel of a hard stick in my hand.”  I smiled seductively.

    “Ah… we have one in the SUV,” he said hoarsely.

    We walked a bit farther, to a more secluded section of the lot, bypassing at least six other SUVs, I noted.  I climbed into the passenger seat.  Randy hovered in the doorway with his arm resting casually on the frame.

    “Leather seats make me so hot,” I said and reclined the seat all the way back.  “You’re pretty hot, too, Randy.  I could fuck you right now.”

    I tore open the snaps on my top and fondled my exposed breasts with both hands.  Poor Randy did not have a chance.  He unbuckled his pants and climbed on top of me, watching through the tinted windows for his coworkers.

    Perfect Randy was a surprisingly good fuck.  He grabbed and sucked at my breasts and pressed kisses onto my neck while pumping away, hitting just the right spot.  I was so excited at the idea of finally getting some revenge on Charlotte that I was already plenty turned on.  It only took a few strokes of Randy banging into my clit before I cried out and came in a way I doubted Charlotte ever had.  I gripped his hips tightly with my legs.

    Randy shot his wad with a violent shout and collapsed on my chest while I fumbled in my purse.  He pressed himself up with a surprised look as I flipped open my phone.

    “Text message from my daughter,” I explained with a giggle and snapped the photo.  Luckily it was light enough that I didn’t need a flash, and my camera phone was top of the line.  A little digital manipulation and Randy was as good as hung.

    He climbed off of me and fixed his clothing.

    “Ah… I don’t usually…” he said lamely.  I snapped my bustier and pulled my skirt back down.

    “I completely seduced you,” I said with a seductive laugh.  “I just have a thing for doing it in cars.  Sorry you were my victim, if it bothers you.”

    He grinned.  “Well, I can’t say I’m terribly sorry,” he admitted.  He walked me back to my car.

    “Maybe you’ll come back and check out the blue X5 sometime,” he suggested.

    I laughed, knowing that he wouldn’t be so happy to see me next time.

    I waltzed into work and put the file folder on Charlotte’s desk with a happy hum.  The photo of Perfect Randy hovering over me with his dick just exiting my pussy had come out far better than expected.  I had enhanced the color of my auburn pubic hair a bit, just to give Charlotte a clue about who she was dealing with.

    The post-it note attached to the file said, You’re right.  Randy is pretty much perfect.  In the sack, anyway.

    I even added a happy face and the words Have a Nice Day.  Charlotte’s shriek later that morning could have been heard in Beijing. 


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