I sit on the couch sipping red wine. I go back through the text strings, again and again, trying to see if there are any more hints, anything else that is going to tell me whether I’m about to get an opportunity I’ve been hoping for, or if I’m going to get a very platonic present and at best a hug. I put the phone down. I’ve reread today’s texts at least a dozen times. Nothing is certain one way or the other, and that isn’t going to change by obsessing anymore. Besides, whatever is about to happen at worst is a friendly exchange. No need to ruin it by stressing over it.

But then I hear the phone buzz with a text and lunge for it, almost spilling my wine. So much for not being too eager.

But there’s no text.

Now I hear the buzzing again. It isn’t my phone, it must be the tablet. I pick it up and see it’s his. I don’t try to snoop but the notification staring at me says too much already.

Can’t wait to see you at the “gym” tonight - XOXO.

That fucking asshole is cheating on me?! That’s why he hasn’t been interested in me?! I should have known with all the time at the gym now after never going when I was trying to encourage him to come with me. All this new found love of fitness, it was just sneaking out for some pussy. I down the rest of my glass of wine and open his messenger to see what else this bitch has sent him.

Fucking selfies… first in skin-tight gym clothes, then lingerie, then nothing. A picture of her legs spread, finger slid inside her slit. Wish you were here. That fucking slut. She’s a skinny little bitch, a toothpick. I can’t imagine what she would ever do in a gym (or bed for that matter) because it looks like anything past walking would break her.

All this time, that dick has been telling me that he likes my body type, the strong toned body shaped with time in the gym, a firm round butt. And this is what he fucking does? Any guilt I might have been harboring about my desires to take you when you show up quickly evaporates. It’s probably not fair to you or the fantasies I’ve had about you that I’m going to be thinking about revenge the first time I fuck you, but there’s no getting around that now.

I look at what I’m wearing, some nice office attire. Not frumpy, but nothing meant to seduce either. I decide that before you arrive I’m going to make some changes. I look in the mirror and toss my hair a bit. Then some more buttons are definitely getting undone. I pop buttons open down the billowy blouse until it’s hard for me to hide the lacy red bra underneath. I’m hoping that gets you very curious to know whether the thong matches it.

I turn to the side and realize I want to turn it up a little more. I look at my legs and ass and know exactly what I want. I go to my closet and look for a bit. It’s been a while so it takes me a moment to put my hands on them. The Louboutins. I used to love feeling sexy in these for my husband on special date nights. Now, I’m hoping for the same thing, but at his expense instead.

I slide my feet in and look in the mirror again. My legs look a mile long, ass looks a little higher, and I smile as I realize that the red sole matches the bra and thong. I wonder to myself if you’re going to get a chance to appreciate that at some point. I think about stripping for you, but I really want you to take me. I want you to show me how much you want me and make me completely forget about that asshole. Help prove to me that it’s just because he’s an asshole, and not because I’m any less sexy than I was.

I look back in the mirror again. I look fucking amazing, god damn it. If that fucking asshole wants to get his rocks off with some ditz, and leave me hanging, fine. But I’m not going to be left here wanting. I hope your cock is as big as I imagine, and I hope that before long I’m going know what it feels like deep inside me. The phone buzzes on the counter behind me. I pick it up.

Leaving work now. Still good for me to come over?

Like you wouldn’t believe.

Waiting on you, big boy.

I strut back out of the bedroom, looking at the bed on my way out. Thoughts of revenge start stirring. Putting you on your back where he sleeps and sucking your cock like I’m starving. Having you fuck me hard and dirty in that bed. Thinking every night about him sleeping there not knowing. A flash of fury pops into my mind as I wonder if he’s ever fucked his little slut in that bed. I decide that tomorrow I’m going to get a hidden camera for the room. Maybe I catch him cheating, or just maybe if I can convince you to make this a regular occurrence I can get a nice little amateur video of you giving me the fucking I’ve been waiting for.

I walk into the kitchen, the heels clacking loudly on the hardwood floor. I grab a second glass and a new bottle. A really nice one we’ve been saving for a special occasion. Because that’s what this is. It’s my birthday, and because my asshole husband is cheating on me, I’m going to get the last laugh. I’m going to enjoy this wine, then I’m going to enjoy you.

Back in the living room I sit on the couch and pour us both generous glasses. It’s a little strange to be so excited just minutes after finding out that my husband is cheating, but I’m almost giddy. I sit back and wait for you to arrive, taking a sip and smiling. You have no fucking clue what's about to hit you.