April Fool's Revenge

I noticed a study desk over against one wall. I noticed that Bobby's mail and other items were all over the desk. I got a great idea. Putting on another pair of latex gloves, I took one of his envelopes and the top sheet of paper off a stack on his desk and placed it into one of the used baggies. Hopefully there were a few of Bobby's fingerprints on one or both of them. I also noticed that he had the same make and model of printer that I did back at the apartment.

Lastly we stretched farmer's wire at ankle height from the couch across the room to the table, tripping anyone who came in and wasn't watching. To help this out, I unscrewed the light switch by the door and snipped the power wire with a pair of rubber handled wire cutters, cutting the power to the light switch. Rachel vaselined the outside door knob after locking it and we headed for Bobby's Camaro.

I used Pete's slim jim to pop the lock and get us in. I put Mr. Catfish under the driver's seat where he could finish rotting in peace. I dumped two bags of confetti down the air vents. That Camaro will be blowing confetti every time he turns on the heater or A/C for the next two years. I relocked the door.

Taking out the plumber's snake I borrowed from our apartment super, I opened the Camaro's fuel door and took the gas cap off. You can't normally put anything but liquid into a gas tank. There is a fine mesh filter part way down the filler hose and the filler hose is never straight. They purposely make the metal hose with a bunch of bends to stop anyone from punching out the filter with a broom handle and then using a hose to either siphon gas out of the tank or add something that's not supposed to be in there, like sand which will score the cylinder walls and kill the engine, or mothballs which will radically increase the octane level of the gasoline, causing the engine to overheat. But my favorite is a couple of eggs cracked into the gas tank. The egg yolks will float on the fuel. When the level of the tank gets down to somewhere around an eighth to a quarter of a tank, the eggs will float over and clog the fuel intake, starving the engine of fuel. The car sputters and quits and the poor driver coasts to the side of the road, or is stranded at a stoplight maybe. He turns the engine over and over and as long as there is suction from the pump, the intake stays clogged. Finally he gives up, calls AAA, and by the time they arrive, the eggs have floated away. The car starts, everything is good until the driver is half a mile down the road and the eggs clog the intake again. Rinse and repeat. The only way to fix this is either never go below a quarter tank of fuel, or spend a couple hundred bucks getting a mechanic to pull the gas tank, empty it, steam it clean and re-install it. That's if they can figure out what's wrong. Usually the owner spend hundreds of dollars on parts trying various things that seem to work for awhile until he drops below a quarter tank again.

I used the super's plumber's snake to slide down the filler tube and ram the filter, knocking it out. Now we were free to dump whatever we want into Bobby's tank. I watch as Rachel cracked two eggs into Bobby's tank and screwed the filler cap back on and closed the fuel door. I grabbed the snake and slim jim and the bag of leftover goodies and we high-tailed it for our car.

Rachel and I parked nearby, close enough to pick up the camera's transmission but out of site behind a bunch of dumpsters in the parking lot next door. And we waited for Bobby to return from class. I fired up the laptop and plugged in the bluetooth booster. I fired up the recorder program for syncing with the camera. I hit the record button and set the laptop on the driver's seat where we could both see it.

I sat in the passenger seat and pushed my seat back as far as it would go and pulled the lever to let the seat lay back as far as it would and Rachel climbed onto my lap. We made out, glancing at the laptop screen every so often to see if anyone was home yet. I traced burning hot kisses down Rachel's neck to her breasts. She peeled off her pink camisole and I kissed all around her little pink bra as I slowly undid the clasp at the back. I slid off the shoulder straps as she held the bra cups to her breasts. Slowly she let me pull the bra away revealing her perfect breasts capped by puffy pink nipple peaks. I fondled one breast by hand while my tongue laved attention on her other breast and flicked across the aroused nipple.

Rachel began to grind her ass into my lap, arousing my cock to new heights. I reached up her A-line miniskirt and pulled her panties down her legs and off her. Rachel unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped my fly and reached into my shorts and pulled Mr. Happy free. She stroked my cock and I played with her pussy, all the while lavishing attention on her bare chest. Very soon she had me rock hard and she lifted up and poised herself over top my and lowered herself onto my cock, slowly sinking down until she had all of my cock inside her. Rachel began to slide up and down on top of me while we kissed and I massaged her incredible breasts. After twenty minutes or so of this and several of Rachel's orgasms I came inside her. She put her silky top back on, but between fondling her breasts under her top and her tight pussy I stayed semi-hard. We spent the next several hours with Rachel sitting on my lap with me inside her and she just ground against me or flexed her PC muscles to play with my cock. I flexed as much as I could inside her and we played this glorious game of seeing how long I could stay hard inside her.

Finally 3:45 arrived and Bobby came home right on time. The door to the apartment burst open with Bobby wiping his vaseline covered hand on his pants. He flipped the switch for the lights but no lights.

"That's just fuckin..." and down he went. Farmer wire 1, Bobby 0.

"What the fuck?" he whined as he got up. He walked down the hallway out of sight of the camera. There was another thud heard.

"Fuuuuck Offfff!" Bobby screamed and there were numerous thuds and bumps as I presume he took out his anger on the inanimate objects around him. He shortly came down the hall naked with a towel draped over his shoulder. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

"That reminds me, love. You're bigger than he is." Rachel leaned back into me, twisting around to give me a kiss and gave an extra little twist to the grind of her hips. The agony of her teasing was delicious.

"Ugh, oh, no I'm not. If I remember correctly from last season, oh, Rache, ahhhh, I'd say we're about the same size."

"Same length, hon, not the same size. You are definitely bigger. You have more, um, girth. Is that the right word, girth?"

"Girth is definitely the right word, sweetie."

The camera mic picked up the sound of a toilet flushing. Then more shrieking, the door flung open and Bobby dance out naked, covered from the knees down with foam, with more foam creeping out the bathroom doorway. "Goddamn, motherfucking, son of a fucking..." The swearing became muffled as Bobby stepped back into the bathroom and the sound of bathwater running and the toilet running drowned out his tirade. The water sound changed as it changed to a shower sound. There was the metallic sound of the shower curtain hooks on the shower rod.

"Aww, fuck me, what is this fucking brown shit! Fucking smells like... chicken?"

The shower hooks shrieked against the rod and there was a thud and Bobby's feet and legs slid into view in the hallway. He must have slipped on the foamy floor and hit his head. I thought about calling 911. Getting him back for his pranks was all well and good but I didn't want him death on my hands. Before I could hit the Send button, Rachel put her hand over mine. Bobby's feet moved and groaning could be heard.

The apartment door flung open again. Another roommate walked in, flipping the light switch.

"That's Rob the Knob," Rachel whispered. "He makes Bobby look like a nice guy."

Two steps and down Rob went. Farmer wire 2, Bobby's bunch 0.

"Bobby you cocksucker, I'll fucking get you for this!" Rob screamed. Evidently Rachel was not the only victim of previous Bobby pranks. Rob got to his feet and noticed Bobby's naked body sticking out of the bathroom door. He walked over and kicked Bobby hard getting a groan in return for his efforts.

"Stupid fuck!" Rob walked over to the fridge and opened the freezer, dug out a frozen pizza pocket, cracked the seal and tossed it in the microwave. He punched the Auto button four times and went back to the fridge. He opened it and got out a Coke. There was some sparking in the microwave but Rob couldn't see it with his back turned. Rob walked back to the microwave and opened the cupboard over it, presumable to get a glass. Suddenly showers of sparks went off in the microwave, flaming gobs of molten metal dropped from the inner ceiling onto his Hot Pocket.

"What the fuck!" Rob screamed as he punched the microwave's door release and it popped open and a burning ball of ignited steel wool flew out hitting Rob in the chest. Rob dropped the Coke to paw at his burning chest just as the door opened again, in walking contestant #3. Mister Three saw Rob on fire and started forward and went down in a heap, just as the bouncing bottle of Coke reached about chest high and exploded and the camera went dark. At least the Coke probably put out Rob's chest fire. Coke 2, Farmer Wire 3, Bobby's bunch 0.

Rachel and I howled with laughter until our sides hurt. She was laughing so hard I almost came from the all the clenching. We finished, Rachel figuring out that if she rode me reverse cowgirl like she was and bent back to kiss me, my cock pounded on her G-spot and she climaxed furiously several times before I finally exploded, coming inside her again.

There had recently been a change in the funding of the athletic department. Some of the money previously allotted to the football program was cut and spent on other programs including women's athletics. There was a huge furor over this change, especially with the football boosters club. So when we got home, I wrote up an inflammatory letter threatening the university president with bodily harm and used every derogatory epithet I could think of against female athletics and against the president's race and made homophobic remarks. I used Bobby's paper to print out the letter, then used the computer and printer to put the university address and Bobby's return address and using gloves, pulled them from the printer tray, folded them and placed the folded note in the envelope and sprinkled some white flour into the envelope. I used a little bottled water to wet the envelope seal and sealed it. I walked across campus and mailed the letter. I figure it will only be days before it's delivered. Some secretary will see the white powder, shut the office down while guys in Hazmat gear remove the envelope for testing at the CDC. Homeland Security will get involved and poor Bobby's gonna have some 'splainin' to do.

When I got back from mailing the letter, Rachel was back from her classes. I wrapped her in my arms and we sat on the couch and hugged.

"How did it go today?" I asked.

"Good, no one said anything about last week. Maybe it really has blown over."

"That's great! Happy Post April Fool's Day Rachel!" and we kissed.

*

Author's note: Rache is German for revenge.