Now That's a Spicy Cliché

by Michael Erickston

Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Humor, Cheating, Slut Wife, Revenge, .

Desc: Humor Sex Story: Revenge is a dish best served at 450,000 SHUs. This is just a tongue-in-cheek tale of a cheating wife and the consequences of her actions. Don't take it seriously, folks. LOL

Sometimes, life is full of clichés. Yes, clichés are there for a reason, because they're COMMON occurrences or sayings. Well, my life lately had become a cliché when it came to my wife of 10 years.

First, let me introduce myself. I'm Martin Baxter, and I run my own salsa business here in Santa Barbara, CA. I have every type of Mexican, Central and South American peppers known to Man at my disposal. I've even recently started making habanero salsa. People LOVE it, in very small doses. It's also very popular at colleges as part of hazing, it seems. Some of my best customers for the really hot stuff are Fraternities. Go figure. I've always loved spicy food, so it was natural that I go into the business.

As for how my wife fits into some of the clichés in life, Cindy has been getting distant of late. Yes, I know. NOW I know, anyway. And that's another cliché.

When we'd been married 10 years ago, we were both madly in love with each other. I'd just gotten out of the Army and was setting up my first Salsa shop. I'd saved quite a bit of my money, and taken some culinary courses online while I was in. Hey, it kept me sane in Afghanistan for that first year, and then I was out and ready to do some business.

Getting the loan was easy back then, before the "economic downturn" caused by the housing bubble bursting all over the place. But even today, my salsa business, "Baxter's Burner", is still going strong. The problem, however, isn't with my business, as you could probably guess by now.

No, the problem was my wife, and the fact that she was fucking around on me.

How I found out was the Big Cliché. Well, not quite. The Big Cliché is coming home early and catching them in bed together. No, the Second Big Cliché is leaving, forgetting something, then coming back in and overhearing the conversation about them getting together while I was busy at work, and our son was in school.

Yes, we have a kid together. Brian Baxter, named after Cindy's dad. Oh, and before you ask, yes, he's mine. I KNOW he's mine, since he was conceived on our Honeymoon, and we were together every moment of every day alone on her dad's yacht. Also, I had a DNA test done on him after I found out about her and the Asshole she was fucking on the side.

How it all came about was yet ANOTHER cliché. I'd forgotten my laptop that had my finished formula on it for the new SCORCH salsa. Yeah, yeah. I know. Not too original, but the fact that it was as pure habanero as you could get in paste form, THAT was something. Of course, we'd be adding other elements to it as we went, but I was going to put the first batch together that day. I needed that laptop, and went back in as quietly and quickly as I could to get it.

As I walked into my den, I could hear her down the hallway as she talked on the phone. Of course, I could only hear half her conversation.

"Hey, sexy. Yes, The Idiot is gone to work. giggles Yes, don't worry. You're going to get something today that he's never had! Mmhmm! You guessed it. I want you to light my ass on fire with that big fuckstick, baby! Oh fuck yes!"

My world imploded. I numbly gathered my laptop and headed back out to my car. Hell, I don't even remember the drive to the shop. When I got there, Becky was behind the counter, and Sari was sitting with a customer, letting him taste test the latest batch of our medium hot picante salsa that put Pace to shame.

I managed to paste on a smile as I wondered what I was going to do. Divorce, of course. Cindy's father hadn't trusted me back when I first met and married his daughter, so I'd had to sign a pre-nup.

The pre-nup stated that in case of spousal infidelity, the offending party would leave the marriage with nothing, in case of divorce. It hadn't been a one-way street, since I wouldn't have signed it if it was.

Then all the clichéd questions popped into my head. "How long has she been fucking him?" "WHY was she even fucking him?" "Was I not good enough for her?" "Why does she disrespect me to him?" "If she's that unhappy, why hasn't she divorced me yet?" "How am I going to prove her adultery?"

That was when it hit me. The most evil plan that ever entered into my mind, and upon reflection of what I was planning, I realized that I felt no guilt over it whatsoever.

I looked at all the pluses I had going for me. 7 inches, cut and thick, and I KNOW how to use it. I've been around long enough to know fake from real orgasms, and Cindy hadn't faked one in the ten years we'd been married. I always gave her multiples, usually starting with my tongue and fingers, then even a couple with my weapon of choice. It couldn't be about the sex ... COULD IT? Shit, I'd memorized the fuckin' Kama Sutra, for God's sake! I was still in good shape, working out three times a week and running five days a week. Yeah, I still did my own PT regimen from when I was in.

But the plan itself was, upon further reflection, possibly the most evil plan anyone had ever devised for revenge.

See, the heat in chili peppers like the habanero attack the mucus membranes in the mouth. However, have you ever eaten some very spicy food, then sat on the toilet the next day crying "COME ON ICE CREAM" as you were taking a dump?

Yes, I was getting downright sadistic as I thought about how I was going to exact my revenge.

450,000 Scoville Units' worth of heat in a vaginal and/or rectal cavity was going to make for some VERY fun times, at least for me. Now I just needed a delivery system.

I cooked up the small batch in record time, and told the girls to have a taste. They each had to fan their mouths and eat a LOT of bread to get the fire put out. Both then gave enthusiastic thumbs up for my efforts. I STILL needed a delivery system, however.

The day passed quickly, and while I always enjoyed talking to the young ladies who I employed, I took off early for home. I stopped by my lawyer's office and had him draw up Divorce papers, citing Infidelity as the cause. I told him that I would have some evidence in a day or two. He was reluctant at first, but when I told him about the conversation that I'd heard that morning, he was sympathetic, and nodded his assent.

Then I left his office and drove home. As I turned onto my street, I saw a little red Mercedes sports coupe pulling out of my driveway, and heading my direction. The man behind the wheel was blonde, blue eyed, and had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. The Face of the Asshole. I recognized him as a guy from one of Cindy's social functions that we went to! He was always asking her to dance, and she was always accepting those dances. NOW I knew why! My anger grew again, and I was more than ready to put my plan into action!

The hardest part was going to be acting normal when I got home. I wasn't about to tip my hand to The Bitch before I could play it. I took a deep breath, then went inside. I pasted on my best Loving Husband smile and went inside.

"Hi, honey!" Cindy greeted me with enthusiasm. She'd obviously just showered, as her hair was still a big damp. Her long blonde locks fell over her shoulders, and I was once more entranced by her beauty. But physical beauty is one thing. Inner ugliness trumps that. After the conversation she'd had with Asshole that morning, her outward beauty didn't have quite the hold on me that it once did.

"Hey, sexy lady. A shower at this time of day?" I asked playfully, touching her hair.

"Yeah, I had quite a workout earlier." She smiled and kissed me. Yeah, I BET you did. Well, your workout tomorrow will be a LOT more interesting! I thought to myself.

She said that dinner would be ready in an hour, so I kissed her again and headed down the hall to our bedroom. The smell of Febreeze in the room ALMOST masked the smell of sex, but at least they'd changed the sheets on the bed. I almost lost my lunch when I thought of sleeping in that bed with her tonight. I'd be burning it at my earliest convenience.

Then the thought hit me. They HAD to be using some kind of lube for anal sex. Hmmm...

I searched her nightstand, and sure enough, there was the tube of Cherry KY Jelly that we sometimes used. Son of a bitch! I popped the cap, and it was nearly the same shade of red as the salsa I'd created with the white hot fire inside. I grinned as I took the cap completely off the KY, squeezed some of it into the toilet, flushed it, then poured some of the paste from the small bottle of salsa into the tube. I replaced the cap and squeezed it around, mixing it up inside the tube itself. Then I took the cap back off, and put even more of the salsa into it. Then repeated the process. Once I thought it was mixed up enough, I pulled the cap off and squeezed out a little. I sniffed it, and sure enough, it was In There Good! I washed my finger off and replace the cap again, then replaced it in her nightstand just as I'd found it.

I was in a much better mood now, and took a nice long hot shower. I then went out to eat dinner, and had on a pair of blue jeans, t-shirt, and a smile on my face.

"God, that smells great!" I enthused as I sat down at the table. I opened a bottle of beer and we all dug in to her lasagna. God, I was going to miss her cooking! Probably even more than I was going to miss the sex with her!

Brian had gotten home and was sitting in his spot between Cindy and I. We talked about his day at school, and Cindy admonished him to get his homework done. Yes, she's a pretty good mom to him, too.

Cindy, sexually, has always been a quick study, very skilled and enthusiastic. So yes, I LOVED having sex with her, be it either fucking or making love. It was always special.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Humor / Cheating / Slut Wife / Revenge /