Hell Hath No Fury

Unfaithful.

The ugly word sounded foreign and strange when I said it out loud. Like it had been the name of a dish or a shampoo. I wrote it down on a piece of paper.

Unfaithful.

Meandering, curving lines in blue against white, making a pretty picture of symmetry and grace, but without any meaning.

"It didn't mean anything. SHE means nothing to me. It was just sex!"

Moron. As if that would make me feel better? That he threw away the beautiful thing we had together just because he felt an itch? Actually, it WOULD have been better if he had fallen in love with that woman. You can't help falling in love. If he had left me to be with his heart's desire, it wouldn't be so tacky.

"It didn't mean anything."

Fool. Of course it meant something. All actions, big or small, have consequences. He cheated on me. He had solemnly promised not to have sex with any other woman but me, and now he had broken that promise. He had taken my trust and wiped his ass with it like it was toilet paper. As a result, I could never trust him again. Hell, I could never trust ANY man again! 3½ years of waiting patiently, of staying true to my man - why had I bothered?

Yes, I was bitter. And I felt pretty damned righteous about it, too! The man I loved had put horns on my head! Well, my sweetheart, I'd use those horns and turn myself into a she-devil. No more Mrs Nice Gal! From now on, I'd be a Bitch. A She-Devil. I'd not let my emotions control my life anymore. I'd be cold and cool and analyze the situation just like I did with the numbers and figures at work. Jean-Paul had cheated on me. He was a stupid, unworthy chicken - but I still wanted him. Apart from everything else, he was strong, handsome, witty, and nice to curl up next to for comfort. Oh - and he had a HUGE dick. The good qualities compensated for the bad ones. As long as I didn't fool myself into thinking that I could trust him not to cheat on me again, or think that life would ever be as pink and sweet and sugary as in the movies; I could make this work. With a few alternations to our previous arrangement, that is...

***************************

Since Jean-Paul's work required lots of travels and overweight stays at hotels in other cities - which, apparently, was where he hooked up with that woman - I was left alone every now and then. And if HE couldn't stay faithful, then why the hell should I? I drove him to the airport and kissed him off. I didn't stop to watch the plane take off, but instead went back to my car and drove down an old, familiar street. There were lights on in Diego's window. Good, it meant he was still up. I pressed my finger on the button next to his name. A few seconds later, his light, melodious voice came through the little metal box.

"Dígame."

"It's me."

"Linda?"

"Can I come up?"

"Of course!"

The buzzing sound from the gate told me that Diego had unlocked it. I took the elevator up. Diego lived on the 7th floor, and I didn't want to arrive sweaty and out of breath - plenty of time for that later. He was standing in the doorway when I stepped out into the hall.

"Hi, Linda!" he said.

"Hola," I said.

His apartment smelled of spices, and the stereo in the living room played a cheerful salsa. It was as if nothing had changed, as if time had stood still for 4 years.

"Can I get you something?" said Diego.

"Not yet," I said and turned around.

I put my hands around Diego's neck and kissed him. He let out a surprised grunt, but kissed me back with the passion of someone who hasn't had a date in months. His hands slid around my waist, and then he lifted me up and carried me into his bedroom. His bed was messy, but he knew I didn't mind. He tossed me down and crawled down beside me. I reached for him.

"Linda?" he said. "What about Jean-Paul?"

Honest and fair, even though he risked me changing my mind about fucking him. You had to love the guy.

"Don't worry," I said. "He doesn't exist tonight. Just fuck me, Diego."

He still seemed to hesitate, so I kissed him hard and opened his shirt. He didn't protest when I straddled him and moved my tongue down his neck and along his collarbone. I nibbled the skin of his neck, and with a groan, he put his arms around me and caressed my butt. I continued my nibbling down his hairy torso, pulled my fingers through the thick carpet of soft hair on his chest, and flicked the tip of my tongue over his left nipple. Another groan, and he squirmed under my tongue. Diego had the world's most sensitive nipples. I teased him until he grabbed me and spun us around so that he got on top. Now it was my turn to be stripped and stimulated. Diego's expert tongue hadn't forgotten where I most liked to be tickled, and soon he had me grabbing on to the pillow for support, as the magic he performed on my breasts made me both laugh and cry. I felt triumphant, getting this turned on by the touch of a hot young man instead of my husband. Revenge was indeed sweet. Sweet as chocolate, sweet as wild berries, sweet as Diego's mouth moving over my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed his hard-on against me.

He was naked in no time. I helped him remove my last few items of clothing. I kept the shoes on. I knew Diego liked women with high heels. He didn't waste any more time but drove his hard tool into my wetness. It felt wonderful. Sure, he wasn't as well-equipped as Jean-Paul, but he was Forbidden Fruit, and that turned me on. I moved my hips to meet his thrusts. I loved the feeling of him scraping against my clit on the way in and over my G-spot once inside. I moaned his name when I had my first orgasm. Diego kissed my lips, my cheeks, my eyes and my nose. He grabbed my right leg and pushed it up so he got a different angle for penetration. It wasn't very comfortable, but the effect it had was worth it.

"Yes, just like that!" I cried. "Yes, Diego, yessss..!"

"It feels so good, querida!" he panted next to my ear. "I've missed you so much!"

I shouted out loud when I came again, and Diego chuckled and placed his hand over my mouth.

"Not so loud," he asked me. "The neighbors will think I'm murdering you!"

"I will murder YOU if you stop doing this!" I spit out. "Come on! Faster! Harder! Be rough with me!"

Diego grabbed my arms and pinned them down, pressed me to the mattress, while he pounded me hard and rhythmically. I groaned and whined when I came a third time. This proved too much for him, and he bit my shoulder to stay quiet as a few mighty thrusts sent all his fluids inside me.

Very reluctantly, we lied down next to each other, panting. Diego wrapped his arms around me and I curled up next to him, playing with the hair on his chest. I pressed my legs together to keep his cum inside. If there really was a God, and if She was on my side, Diego would make me pregnant tonight, and THAT would be my revenge on Jean-Paul.

What?

You didn't think I was just after the sex, did you?