"You've got to do something about your wife," the pretty blonde sitting across from me at lunch said.
"I know," I said, taking a bite out of my salad.
"You know she's sleeping with Rolf again, don't you?" she asked. The 'she' in this case was April, my sister-in-law, who worked in my department. Rolf was not only my wife's current fling, he was also my boss. As you may have guessed by now, this wasn't the first affair between Rolf and my wife. The last time, I caught them in the act during a company Christmas party. I nearly killed the sonofabitch then and backed off kicking Marcia to the curb when she swore it would never happen again.
"It's only sex, Larry, it didn't mean anything," she cried as we drove home. "I still love you."
Like an idiot, I believed her and stuck it out, thinking we could work it out with counseling. And it seemed to work for a few months anyway. But things were slowly going back to the way they were before.
You know the drill - girl's nights out, Marcia staying out till all hours, coming home late smelling of stale cigarettes, beer and sex. All the while denying me even the tiniest bit of affection.
And me, you ask. Who am I? My name is Larry Reynolds, chief engineer for a tech company specializing in surveillance gear. It was my job to oversee new designs for things like Internet-capable micro-cameras and the like. Our work was mostly classified and quite demanding.
I met and married Marcia right out of college. There was something about her blonde hair, deep blue eyes and killer body that made me fall in love with her at first sight. She also had a playful personality and was always open to sex. For the first couple years, things were great. We fucked like rabbits and couldn't be happier with each other. Then I got promoted to my current position and it all went to hell.
After my promotion, we decided that I made enough so that she wouldn't have to work. So, we bought a big house and prepared to expand our family.
Unfortunately, Rolf, my new boss, was a real ball-buster who made my life hell, forcing me to work up to 60 hours a week. Worse yet, he was an arrogant, smug bastard who thought he was God's gift to women. I'd heard from a number of my female colleagues at work about his actions and wondered why no one had filed a sexual harassment charge against him.
Then there was that Christmas party. Marcia wore a tiny dress and Rolf picked up on it almost instantly, homing in on her like a guided cruise missile. A couple hours into the party, I looked for Marcia but couldn't find her. Someone told me he thought Marcia and Rolf had been seen heading to a conference room.
After a half-hour of searching, I found them. Marcia was on the table, her legs spread wide as Rolf pounded her with abandon. He simply looked at me as he came inside her pussy.
"Get out of here, you pervert. I'm nearly done, then you can take her back home," he said with a smirk. Marcia just smiled at me, apparently not caring that she had just been caught in the act.
"Get your clothes back on, bitch, we're leaving, now," I told Marcia on my way out. Naturally, things were frosty at home for quite some time. Rolf cornered me the next day at work and threatened to fire me if I said anything to HR.
I didn't want to risk my job so I didn't respond the way I wanted to. But that doesn't mean I didn't do anything.
"So, what are you going to do?" April asked, forcing me back to the current reality. "Are you going to divorce her? And what are going to do about Rolf? Are you going to let them keep cuckolding you like that? You do know people are starting to notice."
"Yeah, I know people are talking," I said. "Unfortunately divorce is out. As much as I'd like to divorce her ass, the truth is I'd lose everything, including the house, and I'd end up paying for her to keep fucking Rolf."
"That doesn't leave many other options,"April said. She had a point. I could kill her - hell, I'd even thought about killing her, but that would only get me thrown in prison for life. Or worse. Killing her was out of the question.
"Whatever you do, you need to do it fast," April said. "I'm not covering for her anymore and I'm really getting sick and tired of hearing her talk about how big Rolf's cock is. God, this'll kill our folks. They think the sun rises and sets in her."
I was getting sick of Marcia's crap also. I assured April before we ended our lunch that I had it covered and would deal with it soon.
What no one knew is that I had spent the last few months preparing my revenge - on both Marcia and Rolf, just in case things went south again.
Thanks to my job, I was able to get my hands on some top-notch surveillance gear. Internet-controlled high-def cameras throughout the house, GPS devices on her car and cameras integrated into her dashboard and microphones in her purse. Yeah, I had it all covered, and it was paying off.
The evidence was pretty self-explanatory - Rolf and Marcia got together almost every day, sometimes in our marital bed, other times in hotels around town. It was pretty clear they were in a long-term relationship and disrespected me every chance they could.
One conversation, for example, included their desire for Rolf to get Marcia pregnant while passing off the child as mine, even making me pay for her medical expenses. I couldn't help but wonder what Rolf's wife would think of that. I also wondered what upper management would think of a mid-level manager blatantly violating their morals clause.
I also took the time to get myself back in shape. I had turned a bit pudgy after my discharge from the Marines, so I decided to join a gym and took karate lessons to hone up my fighting skills. If Rolf wanted to fight, he'd be in for a surprise.
But what about Marcia? There was no way I was going to let her get off the hook and I would clearly be the loser in a divorce.
That's where Jake came into my plans. I met him at the gym, and we later talked over a beer at a bar down the road.
As it turned out, Jake was an ex-con with quite a few shady connections. After letting me cry in my beer, the big black man put his hand on my shoulders.
"Look, man, this shit's killing you. I know how you feel, believe me. Killing her won't help - trust me, I know first hand," he said.
"So, what do I do? I can't kill her, I can't divorce her, and I sure as hell can't live with her."
"Tell ya what, let me make a couple calls. I've got some ideas that my fit the bill and you really don't need or want to know the details," he said.
"Thanks, man," I said. We spent the rest of the night in the bar, watching a game over beer. Marcia threw a fit when I staggered back in the house after midnight, but I was in no mood for her crap.
"Where have you been, asshole? You're drunk!" she screamed.
"Fuck you, bitch," I yelled back. "After all the shit you've put me through, I've earned a night out with my friends. So get the fuck away from me."
Marcia jumped back at that - I had never spoken that way to her before. She backed off and didn't say anything else for the rest of the night.
The next day, Marcia had one of her late nights. She claimed to be with 'the girls,' but I knew better. She reeked of sex and it was obvious she had fucked Rolf. She stripped naked, climbed into bed and grabbed my hand, putting it on her bald, well-fucked pussy which was still full of cum.
"Eat me," she whispered. I pushed her away.
"God, you reek," I said. "And I refuse to eat your lover's cream pie. He put it there, he can suck it out. And go take a shower. You smell like shit."
"Fuck you," she said, turning away. I kicked her out of bed and told her if she insisted on smelling like a street whore to go sleep in the guest bedroom.
A couple days later, Jake sent me a text: "Africa calls."
He followed that up with: "Call if u want a reservation."
"Gotcha. Thanks," I texted back. I had suspicions but didn't say anything.
I later got a call at work. It was Marcia.
"Can you get home a little early today?" she asked. "I have a surprise for you." I'll bet.
"Yeah, I think so," I said. "Rolf hasn't been in today so I can probably get out a bit early. What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I realized I've been something of a bitch to you lately and I'd like to do something to fix that," she said. "Maybe a sexy, romantic weekend."
