Rick's Revenge
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2016 by Mustang

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A Serviceman plots revenge against his cheating wife. "Rick, be careful what you wish for. Sometimes revenge can rear its ugly head and bite you right in the ass!" I was cautioned by Chaplain McKinnon. Though tactically perfect, the results I desired were totally unpredictable!

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   True Story   Humor   Military   Cheating   Cuckold   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Incest   Mother   Daughter   Gang Bang   Swinging   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Petting   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Revenge  

“Mr. Patterson, the Doctors will be ready for you in a moment. You should sit down for few minutes and rest before you faint,” the nurse smiled at his haggard appearance.

“Thank you but I’m too nervous to sit!” I rubbed my chilly palms together, trying to warm them up.

I continued to pace back and forth on the third floor Maternity Ward, of Belleville General Hospital. My shoes squeaked on the ceramic floor each time I turned around.

“Okay, maybe I will sit,” I muttered, taking the closest chair. I combed my fingers nervously through my lengthening dark brown hair, crossed my arms and sighed deeply.

“Ricky, Ricky, Ricky! How the hell did you get yourself into this mess?” I questioned, to a vacant room. “If I had divorced Donna like I thought of doing, I wouldn’t be in this unbelievable situation!”

I shook my head, grinning at what life’s course has handed me. “It sure has been an incredible past three years!” I thought. “Maybe I will close my eyes for a few minutes.” I did and soon fell into a deep and dreamy sleep, recalling what had brought me to this juncture in my life.


I graduated from high school, not knowing what career choice I wanted to make. I certainly didn’t want to stay working at our local K-Mart all my life. “Don’t expect to be sitting around the house all day long and eating us out of house and home,” I remember my dad preaching.

He suggested I become an auto mechanic like him. “There are always openings for civilian vehicle mechanics at the Base,” he told me. I said there is nothing wrong with repairing cars and trucks. I just didn’t see myself doing that for my adult working life.

“Your cousin Bill is in the Canadian Armed Forces and seems to have a good career. Why don’t you look into joining the Military?” Dad suggested.

I hadn’t thought of being in the Military. “I was a lover, not a fighter,” I joked to him. Living in Trenton, there was always the influence of the Military air base everywhere, Canadian Forces Base Trenton Ontario. So more to appease my dad, I went to the local recruiting office, and the next thing I know, I’m being sworn into the Forces on my eighteenth birthday. I knew next to nothing about the Military, though enough to stay away from any of the hard Army trades.

My aptitude testing indicated I was more suited for the Logistics Supply Technician trade over being an Infantryman, Radar Technician or a Cook. I guess my part-time job at K-Mart did give me some knowledge of supply and demand in business after all.

I received a phone call from my cousin Bill congratulating me on enlisting in the CAF. We talked about the Forces in general, and I’d soon learn there was a big difference between our professions. He was an Officer, a Captain at the time and a pilot of a CF-5 fighter-bomber. One piece of advice he offered me that I never forgot was, “There are four trades in the Military whose people you never want to piss off, those who feed you, those who clothed you, those who pay you and those who take care of your health.”


I completed my recruit and Supply Technician trade training and was posted to my first Base, Canadian Forces Base Petawawa, Ontario. The fact that I wore a blue uniform made no difference being employed at an Army field unit as I also noticed a few wearing dark Navy.

It was hot and humid in the summer, and you froze your ass off in the winter. I had it pretty easy, though, for my first two years. I worked at the main Base Supply Section, mostly every day, Monday to Friday. Except for Military commitments such as training exercises and other duties a Private gets stuck with, I sometimes felt like a civilian in uniform.

That suddenly changed when I was assigned to the Supply Unit of The Royal Canadian Dragoons, RCD, an armoured regiment. The RCDs were virtually self-supporting, consisting of other Supply Techs, Medics, Cooks, Vehicle Techs and Administrative staff.

I enjoyed my work because I was involved with the ordering and issuing of such a wide variety of supplies in support of the RCDs. I sometimes felt like Radar from the TV show, M.A.S.H. Go for this, go for that. Do this or do that!

My superiors in the RCDs and Base Supply must have thought I was doing my job well above the standard because I received one of the rare rewards of an accelerated promotion, a year early, from Private to Corporal. That may not seem like a big deal, however, my pay went up about 1,300 dollars a month!

I had barely christened my Corporal stripes with beer when my Sergeant said I was doing such a good job, I was being rewarded with a six month paid vacation. “Just think, you won’t have to suffer through another hot and humid summer here in Petawawa,” he smiled.

Some vacation that turned out to be! I traded the environment for one that was dryer and a hell of a lot hotter in the Middle East! I was to be employed with the United Nations Emergency Force 2 from April to October, and I’d spend my twenty-third birthday in Ismailia, Egypt.

When our rotation contingent arrived at Cairo airport, we were met by the crew we were replacing. They were all smiles and well tanned. They referred to us as, ‘Pinkies,’ because of our pale skin compared to theirs. A guy I knew, Gibson, from Base Transport, was a negro and joked. “I’m darker than you’ll ever be!”

We were issued tropical pattern clothing, light tan coloured shirts and pants, along with our distinctive light blue beret. Our suede and rubber-soled shoes were costumed made to our foot size right before our eyes.

Living in Ismailia was a total change of life that I’d never regret experiencing. I saw gleaming white or silver stretch limousines drive passed a small boy riding on a two-wheeled cart pulled by a donkey. The cart carried the few vegetables he’d try to sell for his family’s meagre existence.

We were told never to interact with the locals for various reasons, mainly because of the different lifestyles. I noticed that justice in Ismailia was swift and harsh. Fingers or a hand were cut off if you were caught stealing. They were strict with their religious beliefs, especially not consuming pork. If the person was of the Christian faith, he had a cross tattooed on the underside of his wrist to signify her could eat pork.

On most trips to Port Said, on the Mediterranean Sea, we’d bribe the customs guards with Penthouse magazines to let us bring more than we were allowed back to our home base. On one occasion, a truck driver had run the customs inspection station, and the Police caught up to him and shot him dead as he drove.

One morning I was conducting Supply business in Ismailia when I heard an accident on the next street. I ran to the corner and noticed a car had broadsided a man on his motorcycle. The driver got out of his car, picked up the broken pieces of his car and left the man lying and screaming in agony. Instinct told me to go and help him, but I had to turn and walk away.

Another time several of us were on a long weekend pass to the city of Alexandria also on the Mediterranean Sea. I heard the screeching of tires and looked out my hotel window. A pedestrian was struck, and the car left the scene. Someone went to the body and realizing he was dead, covered him with newspaper. The poor soul laid there for over an hour, cars avoiding him until an ambulance appeared, and he was driven away.

I looked forward to my weekends off the most. I happen to be the only one with a Military driver’s licence in the section, so we used the Admin vehicle to sightsee. I probably saw the Great Pyramids and the Sphinx at least twenty-five times!

One unique experience I remember was golfing close to the Pyramids. Talk about sand traps! I also encountered bartering for souvenirs. The locals thought it was an insult if you paid full price and didn’t try to ‘dicker’ them down to a lower price. That was part of the buying experience, the interaction between the buyer and seller, haggling out the price was certainly different. Gold was relatively inexpensive and the most popular jewellery purchased was puzzle rings.

The reality of being away so far from Canada hit hard when a co-worker opened a letter from his wife. Inside there was a short note and the keys to their home. She had left him. I was thankful I was still single. Many a wedding ring was put away for the six months, and I hoped if I married, I’d never have to do another overseas tour.


My tour survived, the group I came with were now at the Cairo Airport waiting for our flight to Germany then home. Now we’re the ones well-tanned, except for Gibson, and we called our replacements, ‘Pinkies.’

When my feet touched Canadian soil again, I knelt and kissed the ground, just like the Pope does. I was so thankful for the life I had in Canada.

I had frozen my ass off in minus forty degree winters and suffered through 110-degree workdays. I would never complain about the weather again until the temperature went below or above those numbers.


The next big change happened to me the following summer. I was posted from CFB Petawawa to CFB Esquimalt, on Canada’s west coast. I had traded desert sands for desert waters. I was now a crew member on the supply ship, HMCS Provider.

HMCS Provider was basically, for lack of a better term, a gas station on water. Its primary function was to replenish other vessels while at sea with engine fuel but also with other items such as food, clothing, etc. The scariest manoeuvre was refuelling ship to ship while on the go.

At least now I wasn’t freezing my ass off in the winters that were spent on joint naval exercises with the U.S Navy and other NATO countries in the warmer Pacific waters. I’d be sitting with the guys in the Mess hall, and one would say he wished they had this or item another thing be it a kind of food or a piece of clothing or equipment. I’d ask them why and I’d use their reasoning when I approached my superior about placing an order.

His favourite response was. “Order a dozen or so and we’ll see how they do.” All I was trying to do was make the time away from homeport more tolerable for my shipmates from the newest member to the Commanding Officer. My efforts were rewarded with rather substantially high annual assessment reports.


Four years later I was promoted to Master Corporal and posted to Canadian Forces Base Trenton, Ontario. I had come full circle in my career because Trenton is where I was born and raised before joining the Military. Now in ten years of service, I had served in all three elements of the Forces, Land, Navy and Air.

Desert sands of Petawawa and Egypt, endless desert waters of the Pacific Ocean, were now replaced with the 10,000-foot long black asphalt runway of a very active Military Airport.

In my first two years at Trenton, I discovered my ability to effectively supervise personnel. With annual posting out of other workers, I was soon the senior Master Corporal in my Unit.

Each September, Military personnel are offered the opportunity to improve their education by taking night classes at either Loyalist College or Quinte University. My Captain suggested I take anything involving Business Administration or Supply Chain Management citing, that at my rate of progression, I’d be promoted to Sergeant in a few more years.

Quinte University offered what I needed in both courses, so I drove to the admission office. The large room was abuzz with others also applying for night courses. I sat quietly, waiting for my turn and casually scanning the office personnel noticed this particularly beautiful looking brunette.

I gave up my place in line, twice, so that it would be her to process my application, though I wasn’t the only one interested in her. Through general conversation with her co-workers, I heard her name mentioned as Donna. I watched her interact with others, and my heart pumped a little faster when it was finally my turn.

“Hi Donna, it sure is busy in here,” I offered, looking into her brown eyes.

“It usually is during the first few weeks of September. Do I know you? You seem to know my name,” she said, wrinkling her brow.

“No, we’ve never met. I overheard your name spoken several times. I’m Richard Patterson. I go by Rick,” I smiled, offering my hand.

“Hi, I’m Donna Saunders.” She glanced at her other co-workers before hesitantly offering her hand in return. My short hair was a dead giveaway that I was in the Military.

Donna smiled shyly at me, taking fleeting glances as she helped me to complete my application. My glances revealed a woman of medium build, soft, flawless-looking face with perfectly manicured eyebrows, a cute nose and full lips and a decent sized chest on her. She seemed to be about half a foot below my six-foot height.

When she curled her long brunette hair behind her right ear, her earrings sparkled from the overhead fluorescent lights. I took notice of her left hand bare of any wedding ring.

“You forgot to fill in the next of kin portion on your application, so we’ll need your wife’s information.”

“I’m not married, never have been,” I smiled at her.

“Sorry, I just assumed you were.”

“How about you, are you married?” I wanted to know. My cheeks warmed, I usually wasn’t so bold meeting a woman for the first time.

“No, I’m not married, never have been,” she mirrored my response and blushed at my interest.

“The Business Administration and Supply Chain Management courses are given Tuesday and Thursday nights,” she informed me. I wanted to keep our conversation going, so I told her I worked at Base Supply and my rank. I think she wanted to keep talking too, though, others were waiting to register for night courses.

Then a tall black-haired, slender figured beauty, asked her if she was going on her break. Donna and I said, at least it seemed to me, a reluctant goodbye.

“I definitely have to ask her out!” I thought and noted the office hours on the door.


I returned the next afternoon, and she was surprised to see me again. “Hi Rick, what brings you back so soon?” she smiled. Oh man, that smile was melting my heart! “She remembered my name!” I thought. “I need to change the next of kin part of my application.”

“Oh? I know you’re not married so are you engaged now?” she hoped I wasn’t.

“No, we just met yesterday so how could you and I be engaged so soon?” I began to chuckle, and I noticed her blush. “I hope to be dating now, provided you’ll go out with me?”

“Nice try, soldier! My dad warned me about servicemen like you!” She grinned.

“At least when you shoot me down in flames, it didn’t burn too badly. You know I’ll be back to try again,” I warned Donna.

“Rick!” she said, loudly, as I was exiting the open door. “I hope you do try again!” She hit me with that killer smile.

“Hmmm, this is going to be more difficult than I thought.” I looked at her watching me through the glassed wall.


I’d purposely go in early for my classes so I could see her before she went home for the day. It took several weeks of military manoeuvring, and Donna finally agreed to a date with me.

Over dinner, she confessed that her interest in me kept her anticipating my early arrival on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I didn’t want her to think I was only after her for a piece of good looking ass, though I was tempted to try. I acted like a perfect gentleman and put the thoughts of fucking her aside. I wasn’t known as a skin hound trying to fuck a woman on every date.

I felt that excited tingle growing in me as we talked and talked, discovering each other’s life story. Like me, she was an only child with her born and raised in Belleville. I said there was no shame in still living at home with her parents. Donna was twenty-seven-years-old compared to my thirty, and we remarked that people our ages were usually married by now. She said her best friend, Lisa, kept trying to set her up on dates, but she wanted to find her guy on her own.

When the date was over, we shared a rather long kiss, and I had to control my urge to let my hands explore her great looking body. I asked her that fateful question if she’d go out with me again, and she said yes!

I was falling for her fast and hard. Our routine became having a coffee date after my Tuesday and Thursday classes, and a long date on Saturdays.

Then she hit me with the question most single men fear, “Would you like to come over for dinner and meet my parents?” I immediately said yes, and it would be for Thanksgiving dinner the second Monday in October. Our Thanksgiving was always about six weeks earlier than the American day because our fall harvest was generally earlier because of our more northern climate.


Donna had given me the address, and I was spellbound parking in the semi-circular driveway of their sprawling rancher style, three-car garage home. I stood nervously at Donna’s front door and pressed the doorbell. She answered it, wearing a beautiful print dress that showed a hint of cleavage and wonderfully shaped legs. The whiff of turkey mixed with her sensual smelling perfume.

She surprised me with a quick kiss as I handed her a bottle of white wine for her parents, and graciously introduced to Helen and Stewart. If Helen’s shape was any indication of what Donna would be like in twenty years, I had a lot to look forward to enjoying.

Donna gave me the grand tour smiling shyly, showing her bedroom. I was impressed with them having an indoor swimming pool and a beautiful view of the Bay of Quinte. The fall foliage had taken hold in the surrounding forests making for nature’s full pallet of varied colours.

Then Donna threw me to the wolves, so to say, leaving me alone with her dad while she helped her mom prepare dinner. He was a gracious host offering me a beer. He led me to the large recreation room that overlooked the pool where he had been watching the Walt Disney, Oldsmobile Classic golf tournament.

“Do you golf, Rick?”

“Yes I do, Sir.”

“What’s your usual score?”

“I usually shoot in the mid to high eighties,” I admitted, not sure if that was a decent score to him.

“So do I. Not too bad for a guy pushing fifty-five next year,” he grinned. “I’m a member of the Quinte Golf and Country Club. Would you be interested in a game as my guest, say next Saturday and then stay for dinner?”

“I sure would!” I eagerly agreed. The Quinte Club was one of the most prestigious Golf Clubs east of Toronto.


Curious about the man who was sniffing around his daughter, he asked me about my life, and I was pleasantly surprised when he turned off the television to talk with me. I didn’t want to brag about my career, so I kept it simple. He asked me to expand on my experience in Egypt, so I did and smiled when I said I had golfed right beside the Pyramids. I also mentioned the two-night courses I was taking at the university to further progress in my career.

I got the impression that Donna hadn’t dated anyone in the Military, and I think Stewart was a little skeptical of my intentions. Servicemen had the reputation of leaving behind a wake of pregnant daughters from coast to coast.

I asked him what he did for a living, and he replied he was self-employed.

“I own Saunders Technology. We do contract manufacturing of medical furniture and surgical utensils that we ship worldwide. It’s nice to see, Made in Canada, stamped on our products. We also do what is called flexible manufacturing. I have fifty dedicated employees who oversee a robot force that could replace 500 workers. We produce seasonally used equipment. It is fall time now, so we’re already converting to spring production.”

“And lastly we produce wired communications. A new product called, fibre optics, seems to be the wave of the future but would be costly converting to its manufacturing. I guess its time to get with the times and computerize my business.”

“I’m very impressed with your business, you seem to have several areas of manufacturing well covered.” I mentioned the Base was converting to the daily use of a computer network and had its growing pains.

“We’ve been fortunate to survive any downturn in the markets. I hoped that Donna would work for me in some capacity. I can’t own and operate the company forever. I can give you a tour sometime if you like.”

“I’d like that.”


The turkey dinner was enjoyed by all, as was the wine. Donna looked so beautiful sitting beside me, and I had to watch that my gaze didn’t concentrate on her decent cleavage. Her mom also displayed a social amount of breast. We had a good conversation about golf, baseball, and my poor beleaguered, Toronto Maple Leafs hockey team. Stewart was a Montreal fan, so we knew there would be a certain amount of good-natured kidding when they played each other.

Donna and Helen began washing and drying the dishes, and I asked for an extra towel and joined them to help out. Her mom smiled at Donna at my attempt to be accepted by her parents. I kept up my end of any conversation, and Donna smiled her approval.

It was a warm fall evening, so Donna offered to show me her neighbourhood. We strolled hand in hand, her skin felt so soft and warm. “I’m pretty certain my parents like you. One thing is for sure, my dad has never offered any of my other dates or boyfriends a round of golf and a tour of his business.”

“That’s good for me, right?”

“Yes, very right!” We stopped at her doorway out of sight of her parents and had our first romantic kiss. Her lips felt so soft and warm. We hugged, and her body moulded to mine. My hand smoothed over her soft cheek, my eyes taking in every feature of her beautiful face. Our lips met again, heart rates and breathing increasing.

“I have a question for you.” I was so nervous.

Donna looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “I’m listening,” her brown eyes sparkling under the overhead light.

“Will you go out with me?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately.

“I mean, go out with me, you know date me, as in boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes!” she grinned.

“Whew, that’s a relief!” I pretended to wipe sweat from my brow.

“I would have said yes when you were filling out your application for your courses.”

“You had me wait that long?” I kidded.

“I don’t just say, yes, to every man I meet,” she smiled and kissed me again.

“I must say, you are worth waiting for,” I replied, and we kissed again.

We went inside her home and sat together on the couch facing her parents. Donna’s dress rode high up her legs, and they looked fantastic. My face warmed when she caught me looking at them.

I noticed Helen’s dress seemed, not so neat, and their not so innocent eyes darting to avoiding our gaze. “I think we interrupted my parents having fun,” she whispered to me, and I nodded my agreement.

Donna lightly touched the top of my hand then caressed it like a silk glove covering mine. Her mom looked at us, holding hands and smiled her approval.

“Mom, Dad, I hope you don’t mind seeing more of Rick around the house. He and I are now going together.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’ll be good to have a Maple Leaf fan around when we play Montreal,” her mother quipped.

I looked at Donna, waiting for her to join one side or the other. “Don’t look to me for any help. You’re on you own now. Besides I’m an Ottawa Senators fan,” she countered. Her hand holding became entwining her arms around my right.

“All we ask is that you treat our daughter with love and respect and keep her safe.”

“I will, Sir, I promise.”


As a newly formed couple, our feet hit the ground running, and we never looked back. Donna was my perfect ten. She was vibrant, sexy, exceedingly beautiful, smart, and funny. I was falling in love with her. While golfing, Stewart pointed to the new condominium complex being built about 100 yards from the first tee. He said he’d put a down payment on a condo, and he and Helen plan on moving there once it was complete. My decent golf game and good-natured bantering soon won him over, and I was gradually accepted into their family.

We continued our routine of us having coffee after my night courses. I was now becoming a regular fixture in their home. One of the benefits of having Donna as my girlfriend is that I inherited her close girlfriend, Lisa, as my friend. Donna explained they’d been friends since high school, and she was Lisa’s maid of honour at her wedding.

Ahh, Lisa Corbett. Lisa is what most men’s wet dreams are made of. She is tall with an athletically trimmed body. Her jet black pixie style, short hair, framed a beautiful face, and piercing blue eyes. It didn’t matter what she wore, Lisa, always looked great. Sure, I’d love to fuck her, but I couldn’t do that to my Donna. She was cautious of me for a while, thinking I’d dump Donna for her even though she was married. Though I soon learned her marriage was failing.

On Remembrance Day, I attended the ceremonies that honoured the fallen. It was the time when I remembered those I knew who had died, whether it was in a car accident, a training accident, or from a heart attack in Bosnia, or as the member of an aircrew whose unarmed plane, was shot down in the Middle East.

Donna attended her first social function with me that night in the Junior Ranks Mess. It was time to celebrate life, and the Mess had a DJ to play for the night. We had a great time dancing, and I’ll always remember it was during a slow love song that Donna first professed her love for me. I felt like I’d just kicked a field goal over the moon, I was so happy. I told her that I was in love with her too and we already knew we’d found our one.

Stewart and Helen were scheduled to attend a conference in Ottawa for the small business owners the following weekend. Her parents pretty much knew what Donna and I would be doing but didn’t say a word. With them on their way to Ottawa, we had the house to ourselves.

Nervously excited, she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. She felt shy as I made her naked for the first time. She said she needed to lose a few pounds, and I told her she looked perfect to me. My lips, tongue, and hands must have explored every square inch of her luscious body, except her butt.

Our first time ended up being more like a weekend-long fucking marathon. Does Donna ever love to fuck and gives good blow jobs too! We never questioned the other’s sexual history but knew we experienced at it. We’d go swimming nude and made a romantic candlelight dinner. It sure was sensual to wake up in the morning next to her in bed, and we’d start the day off with a great fuck.

With the colder weather coming on, I split and stacked several hundred logs for their wood stove. An enjoyable Saturday night by a warm fire was the perfect setting for more fucking. Her parents returned home, with me still with Donna, and Helen’s knowing smile and a few words with Donna confirmed we’d been having sex. From that day forward, when I visited Donna, I was invited to sleep in the spare bedroom. That made it even more convenient for us to sneak in more fucking.

Lisa was slowly becoming more accepting of Donna and me as a couple and spent more time with us. I certainly didn’t mind looking at her very fuckable body but kept my fantasies to myself. She made me promise not to break her girl’s heart, and I assured her I wouldn’t.

That Christmas, Donna and I managed to share the day with both parents. We were deeply in love and having the time of our lives.

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