The Celebrity Cock Club

A variation on "February Sucks," authorized by GeorgeAnderson (the original writer) and edited by blackrandl1958. This should be somewhere around the 100th version published on Literotica, so this is a milestone, of sorts. This version starts right after he learns she's left with another man. And it's set in North Carolina, for a reason that's pretty obvious.

*****

I looked at the bitch that helped my wife slip off with her fuck buddy. "What the hell is wrong with you, Dee? I thought you were our friend. We talked about what it would mean if a spouse cheated, we were all in agreement, and now this? 'Oh, he's famous.' That makes it all right then. 'You'll be fine and over it in no time.' I always thought you were a little ditzy, but I underestimated your idiocy. By a large margin. I want you to do one thing for me. Never talk to me again. Ever. You won't like it if you do. If I'm in the water and going down for my third time and you walk by, keep going. I'd rather be dead. Now get the fuck away from me."

It was easy to tell she was reeling. I'd never come close to talking to anyone in our circle like that. I turned and started walking to the door when this huge bouncer intercepted me. "Night done already?"

"Get out of my way."

He grinned. "Oh, drunk and belligerent. I think for the sake of everyone you should just turn around and go back to your table. Have a few drinks, I'll make sure they're on the house."

I stared at him until he looked a little nervous. "How much is he paying you to run interference? It better be a lot, because if you don't get out of my way right this fucking minute you're going to need every dime of it."

His eyes widened and he puffed up a little. "You can't take me. I'd wipe the floor with your sorry ass and not break a sweat."

"More than likely, but you need to know something. I don't fight fair and I don't forgive. I'll brain you with a beer bottle, or break it and cut your throat the first time your back is turned. Say you do give me a beat down, make sure you kill me because when I heal up, I'll come after you. You'll have to look twice before you go out in the dark for the rest of your life. Maybe I'll just hire a couple of guys and be a thousand miles away when it happens. I might pay them a little extra to make sure your career as club security is over. If I can't get to you, I'll go after your family. You married? Got kids? Parents? You'll puke every time you look at them when I'm done. Now then, you got a choice. Move!"

He didn't realize he was backing up. Kind of funny, really, he was at least six five and had to weigh close to three hundred. I was five eleven and one eighty, and I bet his fat to muscle ratio was far better than mine. I had one thing he didn't: pure, unadulterated, nuclear-hot rage. You couldn't defeat that. I was almost to the door when someone grabbed my arm.

I locked down on the arm and twirled, dragging whoever had me along. When I realized it was Janey, I let go, and she landed on her ass with her skirt up and her legs spread. I never pegged her for the commando type. I was about to walk away when she grabbed my leg.

"Don't do it! Think of your children!"

I looked at her with all the contempt I could muster. "You mean like she did when she slipped out the back door with that asshole? As far as family, I don't have one anymore. I'll do right by my children, always, unlike the bitch formerly known as my wife. Maybe I'll sue for custody in the divorce. After all, her actions tonight go a long way towards proving her an unfit mother."

She let go and put her hand over her mouth. I actually got to the elevator before another salvo was launched. "Bob! Think about this. Are you really going to throw away ten years over one night?"

I looked at my former friend and his posse. "I didn't throw shit away. She did. Look me in the eye and tell me you think what she did was acceptable. Every fucking one of you assholes, look at me! I want you each to say you think what she did isn't that bad and that if your wife did it, it would be all right. Oops, sorry, Harry. That ship has already sailed. You know she's seeing him again, don't you? Do you like sloppy seconds? Eric, apparently Janey comes dressed or rather undressed for action. I had no idea she shaved her pussy. It that some kind of slut signal?"

Harry glared at Erica and she hung her head before walking back into the club. The others were shouting, mostly at each other, and I took the opportunity to slip into the elevator. It didn't take me long to pack up. I left Linda's shit where it was. If she wanted it, she could come and get it. I found the sexy lingerie and my first thought was to piss on it, but in the end, I just threw them into the wastebasket. It felt kind of symbolic. I was checked out in thirty minutes and got to the parking lot when I heard them. Apparently my 'friends' were watching for me. They started in on their arguments and Eric stood in front of the door to my car.

"You have until I put this thing in gear to get out of my way. Anyone who doesn't will be a parking lot smear. Move! Now!"

"You're gonna listen to us..."

That's all he got out before I buried my fist in his guts. None of them were fighters or had any training in how to defend themselves. I did, because I had a notoriously hot temper when I was a teen and got into a lot of fights. It got me into trouble with the law a couple of times, and when it came down to counseling or juvie, I went to a few sessions. It helped me tremendously with my anger control issues. I still got pissed, but I rarely lost control. Right then, I didn't give a shit. I stepped over him and unlocked my door, glancing back at them.

I threw the car into gear and hit the gas, surging forwards as the tires squealed. They scattered like quail.

I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do when I got there. By this time, she had been gone almost an hour so she had more than likely fucked him already. My first inclination was to find them and leave them both in a puddle of blood, but I doubted that would happen for a variety of reasons. The guy was the number one tight end for the local pro football team, and they pinned their hopes of bringing home a winning season this year, maybe taking them to the championship, on his ability. He'd just signed a three-year contract for one hundred and six million dollars, on top of the millions he'd already made. His house would probably be locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Besides, I wasn't a martial arts expert or former Navy Seal. I was just a guy. A guy in decent shape, but still just a guy. I didn't have access to unlimited wealth, didn't have friends in high or low places.

I was sitting at a stoplight when it hit me. There was something I could do, and now was the time to start doing it. I realized if I went forward with this there would be no way back. I pulled over in front of an all-night diner advertising free WIFI.

Before starting, I considered my plan. If I wanted revenge and a little payback, social media was the way to go. Linda had every account imaginable, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, even something called TikTok. I wasn't an IT nerd; I could barely get on the internet, but I knew someone who could: my niece. She had just turned eighteen and had four scholarship offers, two from ivy League schools and two from tech colleges on both coasts. I gave her a call and she was very surprised to hear from me so late, but when I told her I'd give her 500 dollars if she'd come and help me, she was very interested. I was about to tell her where I was when I heard a ping. "Got you, Unk. We'll be there in seven minutes." I wonder who 'we' were but as long as she was coming, I didn't care.

While I was waiting, I went in, asked the waitress for a quiet booth as far from people as possible. Then I surprised her. "You close at midnight, right?"

She nodded. "Tell me how many customers you expect to have from now to closing and how much their tips will be. While you're thinking, let me tell you two of my friends will be arriving soon and I'd like the place to ourselves as much as possible. Tell the owner I'll make good on any lost revenue if he lets us sit here and work for an hour or so. And there's two hundred in it for you if you keep the sodas and coffee coming."

She grinned. "It's the end of February and freakin' freezing outside. Everyone connected is off somewhere partying or home snuggling. I'll close right now. I can get away with it since I own the place. Give me four hundred, three for me and one for my cook. You need anything before I send him home?"

My niece came in just then and she had a guy with her. She was pretty hot for a geek. I almost didn't recognize her; it seems she really cleaned up nice once she took off her ripped jeans and gamer tees and put on a dress. It was bright red club dress and barely covered her very nicely shaped ass. I wondered briefly if my sister knew she had clothes like that. She sure didn't look like the little tomboy I remembered.

I apologized immediately. "I'm sorry guys. If I had known you had plans, I would have never asked you to come. I'm sure you'll think what I want is crazy, but hear me out. First, let me tell you what happened."

By the time I was done they were staring at me slack jawed. Nanette sputtered in outrage. "Let me review here. Your wife, my aunt, left you standing alone in a club to spend the night with some superstar jock and your friends covered for her while she slipped off? What kind of assholes do you hang out with?"

"This is unchartered water for me. They're actually her friends, the posse she ran with in high school and college. She was thrilled beyond words when my company wanted to promote me to this location. She was giving Chicago the finger in the rearview mirror as we drove away. I've been around them for a while and thought we were on the same page in our outlook on life. I can assure you that we are no longer friends. Let me tell you what I want and then you tell me what a spectacularly bad idea it is and how much trouble I'll be in if I go through with it."

I outlined what I wanted and both Eric and Nannette looked at each other before dissolving into laughter. When they recovered, Nannette asked Eric to get the "black box" out of his car.

The black box turned out to be an unregistered laptop that she "modified slightly." "No one can trace this. I'll ping off stations all over the world and never stay on one more than half a second. It's something I've been working on since I was thirteen, and I've kept it under wraps until I became of legal age so I could file for patents on it. It has a lot to do with why all those schools want me, and the military has offered me a very sweet deal to skip college and go straight to work for them."

Nannette asked all kinds of questions while she set it up. "Got it!" she exclaimed, showing me my wife's Facebook screen. "I'm in. Let the mayhem begin."

They scrolled through her posts, stopping to ask who different people were while Nannette made notes on her phone. When it showed a picture of her best friend and strange cock facilitator, I almost lost it. Then I had a thought and told her the names of my so-called friends who were with us. She snagged every account in minutes.

Nannette grinned, looking at Dee. "That bitch needs fucking up. You ready?"

"Make it as disgusting as possible."

Eric had been kind of quiet. "You sure about this? Once we start, there's no going back. You're dropping a grenade on your marriage."

"I'm sure. I've thought about nothing else since this started. No way in hell can I ever live with her again. She dropped the grenade. I'm countering by going to DefCon 4 and considering nuclear options. Begin."

Nannette started typing, pretending to be my wife. "Exciting update! I'm proud to announce that I've officially joined the CCC, the Celebrity Cock Club! (Her invention. It sounded sleazy and kind of cool at the same time.) I'm with Marc! I'm happy to say he really does have a tight end and can really ram it home when he finds a hole to slip into! I'm just so proud he picked me out of all the women in the club. Shout out to my bestie for running interference with hubby while I slipped away! I'd say I owe you, but I've done the same before for her. Remember the girl's weekend to Atlantic City, Dee? You scored a hockey player and according to you he really knows how to puck! Ha-Ha." Nannette followed it with a bunch of smiley faces.

Then she started again. "We're resting right now, halftime so to speak. We'll start the second half soon. I hope it goes into overtime!"

She then faked messages from every woman that was at the club, giving her literal high fives and saying they couldn't wait until it was their time with a stud. Janey slammed her husband for being a needle-dicked asshole and saying she was climbing the walls needing a real cock. He didn't have to be rich, he just needed to be hung and last more than five minutes.

She found some pictures of the asshole and posted them, as well as some of Linda in the really tiny bikini she'd been too shy to wear at home but wore exclusively while we were on vacation. "Just want you to know what we're bringing to the game!"

By then it was almost midnight, but her notifications were lighting up as people viewed the posts. I'm sure phones were ringing in her social circle, despite the late hour. Then Nanette lit up Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok. I didn't have to worry about her getting any calls because I was sure she'd shut her phone off, so I couldn't interfere with her plans. The comments starting pouring in.

"Is this some kind of joke? I bet your husband doesn't think it's funny. What the hell is the matter with you?"

This was from her favorite aunt. I idly wondered why she was still up. Nannette responded. "This is no joke! I saw an opportunity and took it. How many people get to brag they fucked somebody famous? If you don't believe me, come by his house about ten tomorrow. 130 Windham Circle. It's a freakin' mansion. The rich really are different! We may be up by then and you can see my "walk of shame" as I leave his house. Then again, maybe it's the "walk of fame!"

Another person joined the thread. I didn't know her but it didn't matter. She had over 700 friends and they were all getting an earful. "Really? You're proud of leaving your husband standing and going off to screw somebody else? You really think your marriage will survive this?"

"I love my husband! He's the best thing that ever happened to me. And he loves me so I know he'll get over it. There might be a little rough patch, but I'll do my best to keep him spoiled and eventually he'll forgive me. It doesn't mean anything. It's just one night and I'll never repeat it."

"Seriously? Are you drunk? Did he drug you? As far as never doing it again, did you ever think you'd do it the first time? You're delusional. I'm dropping you as a friend. Don't try to contact me. I hope in the cold light of day you still think it was worth it. It may be all you have left to hold on to."

I finally recognized the name. It was her boss's wife. That gave me another idea and Nannette posted everything on the company page. Bet she'd have some interesting conversations come Monday.

Another chimed in. "This is all just bull, isn't it? If you think this is funny, you're way off."

"Every word is true. We'll be all right. I have faith in my husband."

"Like the faith he had in you? I think the only explanation is you got hit by the Martian Slut Ray. It reroutes all the blood in your system to your crotch and renders you incapable of reasonable behavior. I've seen some stupid decisions before but this tops them all. It's almost Darwin Award level, but that usually ends in death. Then again, maybe the death of your marriage will qualify you. I'm with Rosalind. I'm dropping you. Don't try to respond, because you'll be blocked. God help you."

That was from her first cousin. She lived in another state and I wondered how long it would take before the extended family would have the details.

Nannette looked sad. She'd always liked Linda. "You're destroying her, pulling the very foundations of her life out from under her. You sure you don't want to stop now?"

"Not quite yet. I have a few more things and then I'll be done with her. Literally."

We sent the posts to the team website, the NFL offices, the offices of his charities, the mayor, the city council, all on their official websites and anyone we could think of. Nannette flooded Instagram and Twitter. It was going nuclear, posts and comments pouring in as fast as possible. Then she found his accounts and did the same thing.

He was considered a poster child for a community involved athlete. He had two charities and was always volunteering for one thing or another. The team and the league loved him. Time to bring a little pain. Eric fished around and got a name and number for a sports writer who hated the guy for some unknown reason. He was a little pissed off over being pulled from his bed, but got over it when I told him what I had. Eric had put a voice scrambler on the phone and I sounded like a woman.

"Quit whining! I'm giving you an opportunity. Marc is screwing a married woman in his bed right now. He knew she was married because she was with her husband when he pulled her out of the Shadow Lounge tonight. It seems this isn't the first time he's done it. Talk to the bouncer if you don't believe me. Her name is Linda Hamilton and she's been married ten years and has two small children. So much for the poster boy of the NFL, huh?"

We found out later that he was pissed because he'd pulled the same stunt on him. He and his wife were separated for almost a year before reconciling, and she was still on shaky ground. It was also the off season, there wasn't a lot going on in local sports and that probably made the story more appealing.

Just to be fair, we dropped emails to the local television stations and newspapers. I doubted if much would come out of it, but Marc was well known and very popular and the sharks would smell blood on the water. By six AM, there were two vans and one regular reporter, along with the paparazzi parked outside the gates of his exclusive neighborhood.

By eight, someone on the team or the central office had a man beating on his door. He opened it in his robe and the cameras zoomed in from the vantage points the videographers had found. Luck was not with them, because it plainly showed Linda behind him, also in a robe. The frenzied click of cameras could be heard plainly. His eyes widened when he saw the reporters while the man stepped inside and slammed the door. The man must have given him the full story, and Linda instantly opened her Facebook page.

That house was a mansion of solid brick and timbers, but you could plainly hear the scream even from outside the gates. It was the sound of a mortally wounded animal. She tried furiously to shut her account down, only to discover she had been locked out. Nannette counted them later and there were over three thousand comments spread over all the media platforms, just in the first six hours. Linda had never been so popular.

At ten, they finally emerged from the house. Linda had her head covered but everyone knew who she was. I had a hard time believing the coverage, but then again, he was a popular figure and it was a weekend, so news was slow.

She got into the unidentified man's car and he circled the house, going out the delivery entrance. This wasn't their first rodeo and the paparazzi had that entrance staked out, too. They even got a clear shot of Linda as she went by.

The man drove her home and I wondered what she thought when she found herself alone. I'd collected the kids from the babysitter and taken them to my parents' house. I wasn't surprised to see her parents there, because we were all really close. Both mothers were Facebook friends, so they got to see everything.