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A Wife’s Revenge
The words from the Godfather kept running through my head: “The women here are more dangerous than shotguns.” While I wasn’t Sicilian, I was Italian and my blood boiled quickly. The chilled chardonnay swirled between my fingers as my mind tried desperately to quell the storm brewing in my heart. My name is Brooke. I am thirty-one years old and married to a man, if you want to call him that, named John. We had married after he graduated from Law School almost five years ago. I’m 5’7″ and since the only action I get is on a stair climber, I’m in pretty good shape.
John and I had been through high times and low, but more recently they become flat. Our relationship was a machine. Kisses hello and goodbye, sex on the weekend, maybe, and countless dinner functions filled with fake laughter and awkward handshakes. We were more testy roommates with boring benefits, than the passionate couple we were years ago.
My hand reached past a pair of flimsy lace panties that weren’t mine and I picked the golden liquid up to my lips and drained the glass. I had found them in one of John’s suit pockets, another in the growing list of obvious signs he was cheating. Grabbing the half-empty bottle, I filled the glass back up. I looked at the clock: 10:32pm. The green numbers blinked at me from the clock on the stove. His job afforded us a beautiful house, in a great neighborhood. We had vacations, expensive cars, world class wine but most of all we had everything he wanted us to have so he could make partner at his firm.
My phone rang. It was him. My hand trembled slightly as my mouth tried to find my voice.
“Hey,” it was a simple answer. I didn’t want to show emotion, at least not now.
“Yeah…uh, I’m sorry it’s so late. I uh…I think I’m just going to crash at the Plaza tonight. The Sullivan case is killing, and I think I might be here a while.” It sounded rehearsed, almost like he was reading.
“Ok.” My hand squeezed the phone as my teeth grinded silently. “So, when am I going to see you?”
“I’ll be home tomorrow, right after my afternoon meeting, alright?” He almost sounded annoyed that I had asked him.
“Yeah, ok.” I was just about to hang up.
“Oh, and don’t forget about that dinner with Will Masters. We’re meeting him at Gino’s at 7:30. He’s a partner so try and wear something nice. Night babe.” He hung up.
I didn’t know what to say. I knew about the dinner, but to tell me to wear something nice. Fuck him. I had been basically living at the gym and the spa the past year, working out and primping trying damn near anything to get him to notice me. I didn’t want to be a pent-up, frustrated housewife, but that’s what I had become. I had become a stereotype. My shoulder-length jet-black hair was always perfectly styled. I lived in my yoga pants, form-fitting tops to see if he noticed how hard I worked. Not only was I in shaped, but I was training to run a half marathon with some of my friends.
Wear something nice? If I wore something nice, he wouldn’t know what to do. I stood up and walked down the stairs to our basement. Living in the Denver area, we had converted our basement to an entertainment space which had an elegant ‘man cave’ feel to it. The room was designed with warm woods, rich brown leather couches, and huge TV, but right now what I was more concerned about, a fully stocked wine cellar.
Opening the glass door with a wrought iron vining design, I focused my attention on the area where we kept the wine to open to impress people. John opened it for top-tier clients, other partners he wanted to kiss up to and every once in a while for a dinner party to highlight his wealth. I grabbed a bottle of Grand Cru Chablis, and walked back out. God knows what, or who he was doing right now, but at least he not being here bought me some time.
I went upstairs and walked through the double doors to our room. Half stumbling already, I felt like my feet would slur if they could talk. I put my glass down, popped the bottle and drew a bath. The steam began to rise as I poured myself a heaping glass of world class wine.
How did things get this far? Where had we gone wrong? Was it my fault? I pulled the black sweater over my head, and then pulled my uniform black sweat pants down. I stood, naked in front of the mirror with a glass in my hand as I waited for the bath to fill about half way before I got in.
My pale skin contrasted my dark hair, accenting the bright pink nipples that were getting hard from the cold Denver air. My breasts were a full B, small C depending on the bra. After years of work my stomach was taut and my legs toned. The small tuft of black hair just above my pussy looked like a smear of chocolate, at least that’s what one guy I was dating said year ago when his head was buried between my legs, so I always kept it like that.
I took a long sip of the outrageously expensive wine. Somehow it just tasted better with the smell of Lavender Vanilla bubble bath thick in poker oyna the air. I lowered myself in to the bath, and with the bottle within hands reach, I began plotting.
When my mother told me revenge is a dish served cold I had always thought that it was just a saying. Not until the alcohol began to fuel my creative planning did I understand. I would wait until the opportunity presented itself, and then, I would make sure John understood what I was feeling.
The night passed filled with dreams of young blonde sorority girls stealing my clothes and the keys to my house and hiding them. I didn’t need a psychic to tell me what they meant. I was hurt. I was scared that the last decade of my life had been lived for nothing. John was throwing away our marriage, friendship and along with it, my self-esteem. I couldn’t control most of that, but I could take back the reigns of my own life, but how?
My thoughts started racing faster as the morning light filled my house. As I sipped my cup of coffee I was painfully aware of the silence throughout the large house, making me feel more alone than I already was. I needed to get out. Since I really didn’t feel like talking about it with any of my friends just yet, I figured the gym, like a safe harbor, would be the best thing for me.
I kept telling myself to wait. Like a Mantra… “Wait, the opportunity will be there. Be calm.” I pulled on my work out clothes and stepped into my brand new luxury SUV. I had talked John into buying it a month ago as an anniversary present. I wasn’t going to get anything anyway, so I figured why not get something I wanted and would enjoy, not some piece of jewelry that I picked out myself.
The doors of the gym opened and I was greeted by Bobby, the dark-haired trainer every woman had their eye on.
“Hey Mrs. Jacobs, how are you doing?” His eyes quickly looked me up and down. He was quick enough to not linger, but every man thinks he won’t be caught, but they always are. The woman’s reaction to the prying eyes depends on how much they enjoyed your eyes undressing them. So, I said nothing. But his attention did lift my spirits a bit.
“I’ve been better. I think some cardio will do me good today.” I smiled, tossed my hair slightly as I walked by him towards the woman’s locker room. A woman tossing her hair was always such a cliché, but it worked, and as any woman knows it becomes almost a habit.
“Well, you’re looking good to me Mrs. Jacobs.” His face went bright red as the words left his mouth. Embarrassment took over as I watched his face grow into a grimace as he realized what he had said.
I turned slowly back towards him, letting my weight come to rest on my hip and paused for a second.
“Thank you Bobby. I needed that.” I walked into the locker room with a bounce in my step and a sway in my hips. Opening my locker I stuffed my bag in and then looked at myself in the full length mirror that clung to the inside of the door. I was wearing my black yoga pants and my pink tank top with a white sports bra underneath. It looked good, but right now, I wanted to look better than good. I wanted to feel better, and if you look good to feel good, so looking better than good, would hopefully pick me up.
As I stood there next to my open locker, I couldn’t help but revisit the feeling of having Bobby’s eyes drift over my body. I wondered what he thought as his eyes passed my tits and quickly darted down to my yoga pants. Was he hoping to see the outline of my pussy? Was I reading too much into just a glance? Then something inside me clicked. If John is going to try and ruin our marriage and destroy the work I’ve done, I might as well have a little fun as the sinking ship goes down.
I pulled off the pink tank top, leaving me in only a white sports bra. Then I stripped off the black yoga pants and slipped on a pair of white, tight running shorts. With no panties and nothing under the sports bra, I was taking a major risk of being close to obscene, but at this point there was nothing to lose. I stared at my reflection in the mirror; Drenched in white, I was sure to grab his attention and keep it was my sweat started to soak into the material. Letting out a deep breath, I made my way to the gym.
“Hey Bobby!” I waved to him from across the mostly deserted gym, making sure he noticed I had changed. It was 11:30 and since most of the world was working, I enjoyed the luxuries of a housewife like empty gyms, but of course at what expense.
Popping my earphones in, I started doing some light stretching before doing a quick work out. I made sure to exaggerate every lunge, dip and skyward reach, hoping that Bobby would appreciate what my husband did not. I lifted my left arm over my head and pulled it down with my right, stretching my triceps. I was facing the mirror pretending to be lost in a song, while I searched for Bobby in the reflection.
Having not flirted, well not like this, in a long time I wanted to make sure my efforts weren’t canlı poker oyna going unnoticed. I looked over to my right and caught him. He was standing behind the help desk staring at me. His face flushed quickly as he tried to avert his eyes. He looked down at his clipboard for a brief second and then back at me. I gave him a little smile and switched arms. It was working.
I had been on the elliptical machine for about half hour or so when Bobby walked by checking on the patrons, mostly the women. It almost seemed like he was circling me, going to different people, and getting closer with each step. I felt like he was stalking me, waiting for the perfect time to pounce on his prey.
“Mrs. Jacobs, how’s your work out going?” His eyes drifted over my body as he moved to check my display screen and what my heart rate was. I hadn’t had any practice flirting in a while, and there was something about Bobby that was beginning to drive me wild. Maybe it was that fact that he was young, in shape and devilishly handsome, or maybe it was just that he was noticing me. At this point I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
“Oh, well… it’s not the most fun I’ve had, but it’ll have to do for now.” I took a deep breath pushing my tits out. His head was eye level with my hardening nipples as my body moved and adjusted to the intensity of a new resistance. His eyes shifted from my display screen to my tits and then back again as he tried to be as discreet as possible.
“Well, Mrs. Jacobs…”
“Brooke… my name is Brooke.” I looked down at him and locked eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” His voice stuttered.
“Don’t be. I just want to hear you call me Brooke…” I smiled. “That’s all.” I tossed my hair away from him.
“OK, Brooke,” he paused for a moment and smiled back at me. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”
“I will.” I let the machine slow down to a stop and put my hand on his muscular shoulder to help me off of the machine. “I’m sure I’ll need something soon Bobby.” I let my hand slip off of his shoulder and down his peck as I turned, grabbed my towel and started walking away. I felt empowered. I felt wanted. I glanced over my shoulder and his eyes were fixed on my sway.
I was sick of feeling tossed aside for work, social climbing and now another woman. I was taking my life back and I was going to enjoy every little bit that I could get.
I took a quick shower and got dressed. The ride home wasn’t very long, but it seemed like a blink of an eye, as my mind was racing a mile a minute. What was I going to do? How was I going to make John pay? What was my course of action? Instead of stressing about it, beating myself up for not seeing this sooner or feeling sorry for myself, I felt like a weight had been lifted from me. Empowerment surged through me. This was an opportunity to change my life and take charge. I was excited.
As I walked through the front door, my phone rang.
“Hey Babe,” I picked up the phone like everything was more than alright.
“Hey, I uh… I just wanted to make sure you are ready for tonight.” He sounded like his mind was a million miles away, like it had been for most of our marriage.
“Absolutely.” I tossed my bag down and headed up the stairs to our bedroom. “7:30 at Gino’s. Are you still coming home, or do you want me to meet you there?” I opened up my closet and went to the section where I had dresses I hadn’t worn in a long time.
“I’ll come home and clean up a bit before we go. Will is meeting us there. He made partner about five years ago and could really put in a good word for me, so make sure you’re on time tonight.” I had almost tuned him completely out as I found the dress I was thinking about. Tonight was going to be the first step in my revenge and of course, my fun.
I was in the bath when John came home. He was fumbling around in the bedroom with something when he knocked on the door and jiggled the handle.
“Brooke, you in there?” He sounded rushed and annoyed.
“Yeah, what do you need?” I dragged my razor carefully up my leg, making sure it was nice and smooth.
“Well, it would be nice to take a shower in my own bathroom.”
“Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. I’m still getting ready. I wanted to be on time for you tonight.” My leg stretched high into the air as I moved the razor up my thigh.
“Fine, I’ll just use the other bathroom… We need to be out of here in 45 minutes, got it?” Wow, I thought. For someone who was probably fucking his brains out last night, he sure is uptight.
“I’ll be ready.” I finished my legs and moved onto my bikini line.
“Fine…I’ll be downstairs waiting.” He left and I hear the water turn on in the bathroom down the hall.
Carefully, I groomed my pussy, making sure that my lips were clean and the small patch was neat and shaped. I kept repeating: “If you look good, then you’ll feel good.” The words seemed so trivial, but I found comfort in them. My husband was internet casino washing off the scent, and God knows what else, of another woman a few feet from me and my heart and mind were going crazy. How could he throw this away? All of our memories, our dreams and the promises had all meant nothing. But I wasn’t going to let him destroy me.
My father had always told me, if someone starts the fight, you end it, and that is what I planned to do. I was going to play the cards that were dealt to me. I was going to let him hang himself on his own rope, I just needed to be patient and alert enough to take my opportunities.
Checking the clock as I toweled off, I was on time, or should I say I would be ready just in time to make it to the restaurant five minutes late. The short black body-hugging dress accented every curve and crevice. It had an open back making wearing a bra impossible, and the form-fitting nature only let me wear my thinnest thong, but tonight I was going to forego panties. The dress stopped mid-thigh, making bending over and sitting down a creative adventure. I loved it because it could dressed down for a cocktail party, or dressed up for the opera.
I put on a pair of black high heels that had a ribbon which wrapped around my calf. A simple silver choker looked like a bow around my neck. The modest garnet earrings matched the dark ruby red lipstick I was applying when John knocked.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late for Will. He’s a partner and if you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to join him as one. Come on.” His footsteps traveled out of the room, and down the stairs, making the point that he was annoyed.
Letting out a deep breath I looked at myself in the mirror before I pulled the big black coat over me. The outfit was perfect; flirtatious and slightly audacious. But, I had to be cool, calm and collected. Keep my mind sharp and enjoy myself. Smiling, I wrapped the long warm coat around me to shield me from the cool autumn Colorado air.
“So, did you get any sleep last night?” I kept my eyes on the road as John drove the silver BMW through the city.
“Yeah, it was a late night. You look nice.” He hadn’t even looked at me. It was a well-oiled comment, indicating the state of our relationship. He had said it the same way for the last two years; no feeling, just a learned response to the situation.
“Thank you.” I paused for a moment before I said anything else. My pouty lips felt thick with lipstick. My mind strayed for a brief second thinking about Bobby at the gym. I wondered what he looked like naked. I thought about his cock standing at attention, just inches from my lips, waiting for me to take him in. What did he taste like? The car jerked suddenly as John made a quick stop at a light that turned red, bringing me back to the present.
“Tell me about Will…I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth. Is there anything I shouldn’t talk about?” I was still trying to play the perfect wife.
“I don’t know. Just don’t talk too much. He’s uh… I think he’s single; well he’s not married, not anymore. He likes football and wine.” We pulled up to the restaurant and the car came to a stop. As the valet came to the door to open it for me, I noticed John grab something from the cup holder and twist it onto his finger. He had forgotten his wedding ring in the car. It didn’t make me angry, just reinforced my feelings of defiance.
“Welcome to Gino’s.” The valet opened my door and I opened my legs as I got out of the car, making sure he got a great view. His eyes darted down and then back up to meet mine. I just smiled and offered him my hand without closing my legs. For a split second he hesitated and then helped me out the car. A jolt of seduction and lust ripped through my body. I didn’t know which one I liked more; the feeling of being a tease, or being the object of his lust.
John and I were seven minutes late, and boy did he let me know it.
“For fuck-sake Brooke, I’m trying to make a good impression, and this is not the way to start.” A woman led us to our table where Will was already waiting with a cocktail. He didn’t look that old, maybe late thirties, early forties. His dark hair was speckled with tiny gray strands making him look a wonderful mixture of regal and youthful. He smiled and stood up.
“John, good to see you, at least outside the office.” They shook hands. “And this is, Brooke, right?” He reached for my hand and took it with a firm grip.
“Hi Will, nice to see you.” I smiled as I took in his deep green eyes. He was the kind of guy who knew he was good looking and used it to his advantage as much as possible, which is probably how he made partner. I had played coy in the car. Of course I knew who Will was, all John does is talk about work, the partners and how he can make partner. Will was one of those guys who was a little cocky and a little bit of an asshole, but with his charm, his success forged ahead. He had just ended his second marriage due to irreconcilable differences, which means his wife was finished putting up with other women. She got her severance package from him and moved back home to Florida, which I was pretty sure was part of the agreement so as to keep his professional life in tack.
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