Paybac's a Bitch

This story was written for the 2024 Literotica 750 Word Challenge. Below this line are exactly 750 words (as counted by Google Docs):

My wife Janelle had terminal brain cancer, with maybe 3 months left, and only a few weeks where she would still be able to live "normally." Over breakfast one day, she surprised me. She asked for a "hall pass" for one more fuck with her ex before she goes.

So I was a cuck if I said yes, and a selfish prick if I said no. I was fucking wrecked about it, but I couldn't deny a dying woman's last wish, could I? Besides, I thought, what will the end result be? Either it turns out disappointing for her, and maybe she finally appreciates me, or else I get to start mentally moving on from her a little sooner.

I told her she could have her hall pass.

Of course I was thinking if she truly loved me, she wouldn't have asked, but I could see she was feeling, understandably, kind of entitled to do what she wanted. Soon, she'd be gone. She knew I'd have others after that.

But I still felt shitty to be cucked, and shitty to be jealous about granting a dying woman a wish that, when viewed a certain way, cost me literally nothing.

That night she told me her ex, Joe, had agreed, "for old times sake."

Three scotches in while sitting alone one night, it hit me. There was a way I could feel better about this. If Joe was a stand up guy, he would have refused. He's married and knows she is too. Maybe I can't get back at her, but Joe was fair game. I started to make plans.

Joe, apparently, has some kind of magic dick or something, at least in her memory. After this is over, Janelle might come to me begging for forgiveness, or not. Either way, Joe is disrespecting me. All I have to do to get even is fuck things up between him and his girl. Janelle doesn't even have to know.

I bet Joe's not getting permission from Mrs. Joe to give Janelle one last fuck. So either I find a way to seduce Mrs. Joe, or else I tell her what's up and let her make sure he pays. Maybe she'll even do me too. Either way, Joe gets his. That suited me just fine.

I'd known about Joe for years, including where he works and where he lives. Janelle didn't know that I knew. She backed up old computer files that included travel reservations from when they were together. I dug around, just to satisfy my curiosity about what kind of guy I was supposedly "better than." From what I found, I'd been satisfied he was no threat. My mistake.

While Joe was at work I went over to his house. I figured if his wife was there, I could talk to her. If she wasn't, I could wait until she came home. A Home Depot truck was in the driveway. I figured they're getting appliances delivered or something. I decided to wait it out. After over an hour, a guy came out and the truck left. I got out, walked over there, and knocked. Imagine my surprise when pretty Mrs. Joe came to the door in a bathrobe.

"I'm just getting into the shower," she said. "I don't know what you're selling, but we're not interested."

"It's about your husband," I said. "He's fucking my wife." Stunned, she let me in. As soon as the door closed behind me I smelled sex on her. There was something up around her hairline too. It looked like it might be cum.

I almost felt sorry for Joe, almost. While she stood stunned I took a picture of her, then walked to their bedroom, where I got a picture of cum-stained sheets before she caught up to me and asked, "What the hell?"

"Insurance," I said. Then I told her about Joe and Janelle. I played her the recording I'd silently made on my phone of Janelle confirming to me that today was the day. She called his office and learned he was out.

"Divorce him now and you can be the 'wronged' party. He doesn't have to see these," I told her, holding up my phone. "But if you don't, then I'll send them, and he'll know. Your choice."

She chose divorce.

Janelle died six weeks later. She did apologize to me, but not about how she hurt me by fucking Joe. After the funeral, I sent him the pictures. Payback's a bitch.