I stood on the doorstep, staring at the shrieking redhead. The torrential rain had her hair plastered to her face in long strings. Despite that frigid, pounding rain, she just plowed on with her furious tirade. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t really hear all her words through that heavy rain and the hollow roaring in my own ears Still though, I understood the essence of it.

My wife, Beth, was having an affair with the redhead’s husband, Justin. The furious redhead – Nicole, Nikki for short - wanted me to stop it. I knew as much – a couple months ago, my wife of nine years had called me while I was on a rare business trip, and while I watched cold rain spatter against the dingy hotel room window, she told me that she wanted divorce a “because we’d grown apart”. I’d only been gone a couple weeks and we had only lived there for 5 months since I’d gotten out of the Army. I had never even known we had a problem; she’d never said a damn word. As near as I could tell, she’d been at least emotionally involved with the Asshole for three months, and probably only managed to consummate it while I was out on the business trip.

I’d only managed to piece it all together about a week before the redhead showed up on my doorstep, and still didn’t really have proof. And I was still trying to work out a plan.

My wife had agreed to counseling in exchange for civility long before I learned about the affair, but really she stopped going to the couple’s sessions after the second one. I suspected she was trying to get the counselor to guide me toward accepting the break-up. I think the main reason for the supposed counseling period was so she could tell her family and friends how hard she had tried. Especially her parents. Her appearance in their eyes was really, really important to her, probably the most important thing in her world. So she was waiting her time out while continuing to see the Asshole and living on my paycheck until she was sure it would look good and he was ready to move on from his wife and baby.

While buying waves of damn shoes to fill her closet.

Beth and I had two-year old twin girls, Angie and Amee. She cheerfully left me to baby sit them as soon as I got home so she could “go to the gym” or “go running” – both of which she did often enough to be getting in the best shape of her life. But after the gym she and the Asshole would sneak off to screw somewhere.

Miserable was hardly the word for how I felt. Any time I’d made any effort to resolve issues or talk to her about damn near anything, she turned into a screaming fury, denying any wrong doing and blaming me for everything on earth. She also spent a lot of time telling me how hard she had it watching the kids at home while I was at work, that she was trying to make things work and that I was just trying to use the kids against her – none of which was true or actually made any sense. With her out every evening and nearly all weekend, I was watching the kids more hours per week than her, while working a full time job.

Looking into divorce with a lawyer was depressing; adultery was essentially irrelevant in our state. You could file for it as a reason, but it had no real effect. And Beth was obviously well aware that the courts nearly always awarded custody and a healthy child care payment to the wife, regardless of her behavior. Maintenance for several years was also the norm if there were young children – that way the former wife could stay home and be a “good mother” instead of having to rush off to work.

So there stood the screeching redhead – a somewhat unpretty specimen – tall and a bit awkward, with something of a beak of a nose and thin angry lips, still soft around the middle from the birth of her 6 month old, with a few extra pounds that frankly sat poorly on her otherwise lanky frame. Anger and cold rain had made her pale skin blotchy. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, so I stood back, holding the door open and waved her in. I’d already figured out that there was no point in the neighbors hearing a woman scream at me without the filter of the door. Lots of practice dealing with that lately. She followed me, still loudly demeaning my manhood while I walked over to the dining room table and pulled a chair out for her, then sat down myself.

And waited.

As she ran down, her vitriol turned to hard tears, then to shuddering sobs, then, finally to sniffles as her head sank into her arms on the table, her hair forming a mound of dank, limp, dark copper.

I waited a bit more until the sniffles stopped.

“Are you done?” Quietly.

She looked up red-eyed and angry, sniffing twice, but didn’t say anything, so I proceeded. “If I could have done anything I would have. I don’t like this any better than you.”

I went on to explain the way the law worked and just how much of a disadvantage I was at.

“You should kick her cheap slut ass”

Not letting go of the anger any time soon. Not that I blamed her.

“Great plan, then I could be in jail, then the street, instead of a house.”

We sat silently for a while until I got up and fixed some hot tea – the rain had been cold – a fact pointed out by her very obvious nipples poking out through her shirt and bra. I made a real effort not to stare; she might not be pretty but she did have a really nice rack, and it had been a damn long time for me. She shivered as the hot tea hit her system.

“Shit, I didn’t realize I was that cold.” I didn’t say anything, but she suddenly looked down at her tits.

“Shit” Again. Not terribly creative with words. She clamped her arms over herself.

I sighed internally. This was the closest thing to sex I’d had in four months. “I can get you a sweater or something”

“As long as it isn’t that slut’s.”

I walked over and found one of my hooded sweatshirts, which she pulled on and zipped quickly. She began to squirm, pulled her arms in from the sleeves and then after several gyrations dropped her soaked button up shirt and bra out the bottom and pushed her arms back out the sleeves. I picked them up and tossed them in the dryer. At least, I noted, the show was back on. The sweatshirt alone was thinner than her bra and shirt combined, so the nipples she was no longer covering with her arms were on prominent display. I picked up a towel and handed it to her.

“For your hair”

“Thanks” She dried her hair and I watched her tits bouncing all over in the sweatshirt. It was weird to be attracted to anything at this point. Hell, I had damn near forgotten what it felt like to have a hard-on, so I allowed myself to stare. Eventually though, her hair was dry and she stopped.

“I hate them” she growled.

“Me too. I never saw this coming.”

At that I saw a flash of pain that was as bad as my own.

“I can’t compete with her – she’s in perfect shape and gorgeous. I’m fat from having the baby”

She wasn’t really overweight – maybe 10 pounds or so; she was out of shape, but then so was I. But she was right in some respects – Beth about as beautiful as you’ll ever see in the real world – blonde, blue eyed, slender and as graceful as a human can be.

Still, Nikki needed something to hold on to.

“She’s in good shape because she has the time to go to the gym and go running. And you aren’t fat.”

A tiny glitter of something other than misery peaked out.

“So, what next”

I shrugged “I have no idea, every way I play this, I come out alone, broke and she controls access to the kids.”

I told her what I’d managed to piece together.

“What if you had proof?”

“Doesn’t matter in court. They don’t give a shit here. The same things that hurt me should work for you in court, though.”

“Not hardly, Justin works for his cousin in the construction company. Most of his pay is under the table. So there isn’t much ‘official money’ for child support or alimony.”

I assumed she meant maintenance.

She continued “I ... I just want to crush them.”

I thought for a minute. “What can we really hurt them with?”

She shrugged.

I drove on, feeling a little better – I finally, maybe, had an ally in this goat-fuck of a situation. “Seriously, everybody has done something wrong. We just have to find it. The pay under the table from his cousin might be a good starting point.”

I paused thinking. Some of those shoes that were just showing up in Beth’s closet looked really expensive. That money had to be coming from somewhere.

“There’s something going on – Beth is spending money from somewhere.”

She nodded, with just a hint of actual energy. “We could look into it.”

I smirked. “That will be easy, we’ll pack up the kids and sneak around like a bad mash-up of Magnum P.I. and the Brady Bunch.”

“No, my sister, Angie, could watch the kids – she’s watching Jaime at the house now.” She paused, looking a little thoughtful “So, where are your kids?”

“Upstairs – asleep.”

She glanced around the room, her gaze settling on the closed front door.

“Do you have any sweatpants – I’m still soaked.”

I crossed back to the folded laundry and pulled out my sweatpants as she stepped out of her shoes. I handed them to her and started to point her to the bathroom, but she turned her back to me and unzipped her soaked jeans, pulled her jeans and underwear down and stepped out of them. She then began to rather slowly dry her legs and butt with the towel. The invitation was pretty obvious and I could almost hear her nerves crackling.

I could sense how big a risk she was taking. She already felt rejected. If a guy with a grudge who had every reason for a revenge fuck and who, by the way, been cut off from sex for as long as I had, turned her down, she’d be shattered. I felt a surge of anger, but anger at my wife for putting me here.

Nikki kept talking... “I can’t believe Justin would do this to me...”

I stepped forward and put one hand on her bare hip. She started shaking and her voice caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away, so I put my other hand on her other hip.

Her voice got softer “I don’t like you ... but I hate him...” She pushed back against me. I caressed her hip with one hand and unzipped the sweatshirt with the other, dropping it to the floor at our feet. Her nipples felt as amazing as they had looked. I slid my one hand down to cup her ass – her tits weren’t as firm and her ass was softer than Beth ‘s and a lot wider, at least as far as I could remember after so long. But Nikki appreciated my hands. Her skin still felt icy from the cold rain, and she seemed to push herself into the warmth of my hands. And when I gently kissed the side of her neck, letting my teeth brush her skin, her legs almost collapsed. I let my lower hand slide around and between her legs.

She groaned softly.

Wet was hardly the word for it – she was practically gushing. I let my fingers play over her clit for a minute while she exhaled slow, shuddering breaths. She was beyond ready. I turned her around – her tits were actually pretty nice – much bigger than Beth’s - and her nipples were insanely hard and apparently very sensitive from the way her nails bit into my shoulders when I sucked them in. After a minute I picked her up and laid her back across the dining room table – she obviously expected me to drop my pants and just shove it in, but I wasn’t about to waste any part of this encounter, since I had no idea when or if I was going to get laid again. I wanted to savor it. I pushed her knees up to her tits and lowered my mouth to her slit. She nearly lost her mind as I tongued her, grabbing the first thing she could find and stuffing it in her mouth to stifle the screams.

I showed no mercy – whenever she got close, I let up just enough to keep her breathing – then pushed her harder. When I finally let her tip over the edge, I think she tried to have all the orgasms that she had missed out on for the last several months at once. I finally let up and stood up straight, pulling off my shirt and stepping out of my pants, while she gasped for breath and stared glassy eyed, pulling her own panties out of her mouth.

She slid off the table to her knees in front of me. Staring up at me as she grasped my hard on, she said “I still don’t like you” then slid her lips onto me. It wasn’t going to take long, given how long I had been without, and she used everything she could think of – I warned her I was about to cum, but instead of pulling off, she took me in as deep as she could, catching my cum in the back of her throat and gulping it down.

After it subsided she looked up at me and grinned nastily – “I usually hate swallowing, but ... nobody’s ever eaten me like that.”

I didn’t say anything, but I suspected that going without sex for so long had a lot to do with how much she enjoyed it.

I pulled her back up to her feet then laid her back on the table with her legs spread. She was so wet I plunged in easily, hammering her while she hissed, thrusting up hard to meet me. After several minutes she breathlessly pleaded for me to stop – which surprised me because I was sure she wasn’t out of steam or hate yet. Then she turned around and bent over the table.

“From behind, I always like it from...”

Her voice broke as I pushed in. She wasn’t quite as tight as Beth had always been, and as wet as she obviously got, it was no surprise she liked it from behind – that would always feel tighter.

For the next several minutes I pounded her and the only things she managed to say coherently was “Harder” and “Fuck!” She seemed to really enjoy being taken roughly. I could feel her juice dripping down my legs – she was like a fucking fountain. I decided to step it up a bit and got my fingers wet with her abundant juice. Without saying anything I kept hammering her and worked a finger into her asshole – when I got it into the last knuckle, she started to scream, then snatched her panties off the table next to her, stuffed them back into her mouth again and went completely out of control. I slipped my finger back out of her ass, wiping it on my shirt, and slowed a bit.

Dropping the panties, she looked back over her shoulder at me, glaring viciously “That was just filthy! Bastard.” Her look of mock-anger transitioned to a carnivorous, grim smile.

I pulled almost all the way out, just teasing her with the tip as she tried to push back onto me.

“Bitch. You know what would be nastier?” I let my pole ride up the crease of her ass until the tip was at her asshole. Just touching.

“Oh Fuck! You wouldn’t do that to me! I hate doing that!” but even as she said it, she was pushing back, slowly onto the tip. I pushed my weight forward a bit until the head popped into her. It had to hurt, and she was already stuffing her panties back in her mouth as I continued to push slowly into her. She stared at me hatefully over her shoulder, in a way that made me check for knives on the table near her. She kept pushing back harder though. It was pretty clear that Nikki didn’t have all her cards in one deck. She spit the panties out and hissed:

“Bastard! If you’re going to fuck my ass, then fuck it! Shove it in goddammit!” So I did, to a squeal of not-quite-protest and a disturbing, oddly hysterical laugh.

It took a few seconds for her to relax and get used to it, but once she started thrusting back we had no trouble finding a rhythm. She came again – and again - then I finally reached my limit and shot another load deep into her ass. We slowly separated and I grabbed a couple towels and handed her one. After cleaning ourselves off, I threw her jeans and panties into the dryer with her shirt and bra, we sat – naked – at the table for a few more minutes, drinking the now cool tea.

She looked sullenly at me from under her ragged mop of red curls, “You knew this was going to happen when you invited me in.”

“Actually, not until you took off your jeans.”

She giggled like a little girl. It was a little unnerving. “I was terrified you would refuse.”

I grinned for what felt like the first time in forever, “How could any guy refuse that?”

“Justin has no problem. I think seeing the baby born did it. He was in the room – he freaked out, threw up and hasn’t shown any interest in me or the baby since.”

I shook my head, I’d heard of things like that before, but before I could say anything she continued on. “So how could Beth– any woman – turn away from the kind of fucking you just gave me? You’re a helluva lot better than Justin.”

“I have no idea. She just lost interest in me – Justin is younger and she’s feeling old because of the kids I guess. It hasn’t been like that” I gestured at the towels “since the twins were born. I think she felt she needed to be more mom-ish with me or something.”

Nikki giggled again, a trifle creepily, I thought. “I never came while taking it up the ass before. I mean, I’ve tried it, but it didn’t really do anything for me. Before.”

I grinned “Beth either, at least not for me.”

She brightened further.

“Really!? I’ll be sore, but I’ll treasure it – especially when the Asshole tells me to sleep in Jaime’s room tonight because he’s ‘tired’ from exercising.”

“I can’t believe you can’t control your slut. I still don’t like you. Bastard.”

“Bitch.”

There was anger in those words, but we both understood it wasn’t really directed at each other.

The buzzer on the dryer went off, I smiled “If you really want to do something about this, see if your sister can watch my kids with yours tomorrow night. And we’d better wrap this up, they will be getting home in about an hour and I need to scrub this room a bit.”

“I’ll be here – you better use air freshener, ‘cause it smells like hot, sweaty, ass-fucking sex in here!”

She pulled on her clothes and practically danced out of the house.

I cleaned the room up carefully – and put the towels and sweats into the washing machine with my clothes. When Beth came home, I found it surprisingly easy to avoid the nightly ‘discussion’ – the argument we always had where she denied anything and lied about everything. She seemed a little nonplussed by my lack of attitude. Amazing how a great grudge fuck will take the edge off things. She also seemed to notice the spotless kitchen. I think she commented on the amount of air freshener, but frankly I didn’t give a shit, I was still coasting on post-sex hormones.

She was equally disconcerted when I skipped the nearly-ritualized failed effort to kiss her goodbye as I went to work the next morning. I didn’t even try and I could see it caught her off guard when I just picked up and headed out. One way or another, I was going to quit sitting around feeling miserable and end this – somehow.

At work I made arrangements to borrow a friend’s beater car for the next few months. With Nikki’s sister – who looked disconcertingly like her - watching the kids at her house, we drove off. We planned to scope out his cousin’s construction company office trailer – if there was anything illegal, the trail might just start there.

As she slid into the car, she winced a little.

“My ass is still sore. So’s my kitty. That’s the first time I’ve had sex in forever, and you weren’t exactly gentle. Don’t think you are getting anything today.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Gentle didn’t exactly seem to be on your mind.”

She smiled slightly in spite of her efforts to suppress it.

I noticed that for the first time since I had ever met her, she had some make up on, although it was done poorly. I made a decision to alter the plan and drove to the mall. We tried to find something to talk about, but we didn’t have much in common, so the conversation rattled on in fits and starts until we pulled into the mall parking lot.

She looked puzzled “Are they here?”

“No, but you are, and I think we can wait a while to really start the Philip Marlowe bit. We want this to hurt them, so there are a few small things we can do.”

“Philip who... ?”

I rolled my eyes – it really was amazing how little Nikki and I had in common. She caught the sardonic look.

“I don’t like you. At all.”

“I don’t like you either.”

“Bastard.”

“Bitch.”

I led her to the makeup counter at Macy’s. She glared at me dangerously.

“Think of this as disguise work.”

For the next hour two women hovered over her and tried out a million combinations of makeup, ending up with a remarkably presentable Nikki who they had taught how to apply their products. She didn’t come out exactly “pretty”, but she managed a sort of smoldering, hungry, sexuality. It would do. The kit cost me $100 out of the grocery money, but I just wouldn’t eat lunch at work for the next month and everything would be fine.

We returned to the car, with her clutching the small make up bag like it was the Holy Grail. She didn’t want to like it, but she had.

“So what was that all about.”

“If we want this to hurt them more, you need to have something Justin wants. Something he feels like he lost. And I need something Beth will resent and be jealous of. That will be you. You hide the makeup when you get home and only use it when you and I are out.”

She looked puzzled, so I explained my whole plan.

She sat for a full minute without saying anything. “Damn. That’s a bit complicated. And it will take a long time.”

I shrugged “You got anything better to do? Or a better plan?”

She smiled just a bit “Nope She asked to stop at my house to wash off her make up so Justin wouldn’t see it. She went into the bathroom, then strutted out just a couple minutes later, carrying a towel while wearing nothing but a wicked smile and the makeup she was supposed to have washed off. The evil glint in her eyes told me everything I needed to know about her intentions.

I looked her over. “I thought you said not to expect anything.”

She smiled brightly “It would be a shame to waste this makeup... “ She dropped the towel without any ceremony.

My verbal consent was apparently not required, since she promptly knelt between my legs, unzipped me and began to hungrily suck my cock. She made constant eye contact, and when she moved to mount me, she commented “I love the makeup.” We fucked on the chair for twenty minutes, slowly. Her ass was still a little too sore to play, although I really think she wished she could.

We eventually finished and headed over to her sister’s house. Nikki brought her sister in as a co-conspirator. She’d apparently never liked Justin and we would need her help, a lot.

For the next few months we more or less stayed home – I worked out at work during lunch hours, she worked out at home and we worked out together in the basement until Nikki had lost the baby fat and firmed up everything else – I firmed up a lot too. We hid it from our self-involved “spouses” by wearing baggy clothes and simple evasion. It wasn’t like they were paying much attention to us anyway. We were also having sex at least five or six times a week – more than I’d ever gotten from Beth.

We had one thing in common; we’d both been the stay-home-with-family types. So we decided to change that. On a whim, my basement became a dance studio – neither of us knew shit about it to start with. But the magic of Youtube prevailed. We had a lot of weekends and evenings available as our spouses continued to ignore us. We learned basic dance steps, then more advanced stuff. We really liked Salsa dancing, but we had to save it for near the end of our routine. Primarily because we’d end up fucking in the middle of the floor. Every. Damn. Time.

One thing I figured out pretty quickly was that I was playing with matches – Nikki wasn’t very stable and had the temperament of a half feral Doberman pinscher. Her moods shifted with no warning, and almost anything could trigger a surge of unreasoning anger. All of this shit with Beth and Justin had broken something important, one of those sanity fences we have had been trampled down. I was always careful to keep one eye on her - all the time. The only time she seemed stable was when she had just been screwed to near unconsciousness or when she was around the kids – mine or hers. Her love of children was overpowering.

We fucked like angry minks constantly; Nikki found she had a fondness for oral and anal sex that she never suspected. The element of distaste in our relationship meant that there was nothing too rough or too dirty for us to try and we both took advantage of it.

She still called me “Bastard” and I still called her “Bitch”, but the terms were, if not exactly loving and endearing, weirdly affectionate.

But all that was for was to make ourselves feel better. The real work had to be done as well. And we had to do that very, very carefully.

Casing the construction company trailer took a month and half, and we really only managed to break into it because Justin had a key he’d left lying around and we had a copy made. Nikki made an excuse to visit the trailer during the day and managed to video the whole thing on her cell phone; turned out the cousin was too cheap to spring for an alarm system.

We slipped in on five separate evenings and photographed every document in every file drawer and began going over the documents bit by bit. More useful information turned up in Justin’s desk and Beth’s purse.

After a while, neither of us argued with our spouses, which was a problem with Beth– she actually seemed to miss the arguments and seemed to try to start arguments for no reason, but I never rose to the bait. Well, almost never.

Frankly, after fucking the hell out of Nikki all afternoon, I didn’t have the energy reserves left to argue. It took me a while to realize that Beth probably used the arguments to self-justify her horrible behavior. She became more disconcerted by the day. Justin, on the other hand, seemed to think that Nikki had caved in and given up.

I also got a good break on the money front: I’d gotten my $2000 deposit back on a vacation bungalow in a Mexican seaside resort that I had slowly built up so I could take Beth there for our anniversary – an event that obviously wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t expecting them to refund it, but they did; customer relations, I guess. That money would come in handy.

When Beth started making excuses to stay overnight with Justin, Nikki and I started hitting the occasionally dance club, slowly getting to try out the dancing moves we’d learned. It was fun, but there was stress involved too – Nikki’s unpredictability was a constant strain on me. She was snappish at the best of times and could go from joyfully excited to almost psychotically angry with no warning at all if provoked. One particular night was nearly a disaster and reminded me just how careful I had to be.

By this time, after several weeks of exercise and near-daily screwing, Nikki practically radiated “sex”, so it wasn’t surprising that we often had people cut in on us while dancing. She enjoyed the attention a lot, but, not surprisingly, she was sympathetic toward abandoned girlfriends and tried to keep her sexuality banked with guys who had girlfriends. Unfortunately, some of the guys thought she would be dancing with them the same way she danced with me, which was just short of fucking on the dance floor.

We’d been cut in on by a couple at the small club, a bit back in the boondocks. I was dancing with the girl – a cute little blonde cheerleader type – while the guy was apparently trying to get his hands inside Nikki’s miniskirt. She warned him off twice, but he persisted; I just caught the back of her hair as she lunged for him.

“I said STOP!”

Her raking claws had just missed his eye, leaving bloody tracks on the side of his face. With the little blonde on one side and a hissing, pissed off Nikki held by her hair, I was expecting a disaster immediately. The guy backed off quickly, wide-eyed, while Nikki slowly rotated back into me, curling her long leg around my hips, pulling her groin tight against me.

“Bastard! You pulled my hair! That hurt!” she paused then purred “You really do know what I like, don’t you?”

She looked over the blonde who stood frozen by me, then winked at her. “You can do lots better than that guy Cream Puff. You deserve better, he’s an asshole.”

We headed outside at a fairly quick pace; it seemed wise given the three guys in “Security” t-shirts heading our way.

The parking lot was full of cars but empty of people – two rows in, I saw the scratched boyfriend and two other guys step out.

He started toward Nikki while his friends came toward me.

“Bitch.”

Nikki smiled, “I didn’t realize I’d given you my name.”

“For that shit, your boyfriend can watch me get some of what’s in your panties.”

Nikki pulled up like she was scared and he reached toward her, getting ready to grab both her arms. But I could see the maniacal shine in her eyes as I felt the biggest of the three come up behind me.