Evil Cheating / Strong Response

I've always been smart – except when it comes to matters of the heart. As early as third grade I remember my teacher, Mrs. Grimes, telling me "Amy, honey, there is no reason to cry over Brad Hamilton not liking you. Little boys can be jerks. You're the smartest kid in class – use your brain, not your emotion." I tried to listen to her advice – I guess not very successfully.

All through High School and college I usually led with my chin in relationships. You would think that someone who was valedictorian of not only her High School but her Ivy League University class would be able to figure out not to do that, but I never did. Most of my romantic relationships ended badly. It wasn't that I was not attractive – most guys would consider both my body and my face to be in the top 20-25% of women my age, although no one would ever beat down my door to get me to do swimsuit modelling – and the three guys that I had had sex with (before graduate school) never complained about my enthusiasm or performance. Apparently I was either not too lovable, or too needy, and things never seemed to work out.

Even though I was not much of an athlete, in addition to getting great grades I excelled in something else throughout High School and college. I was an accomplished actress. I had the lead in many school plays, and in summer stock. Although I never wanted to be a professional thespian I honestly believed that I had the talent to become one if I really wanted to.

When studying for my MBA I came up with the idea for a great new business. It required several people with different abilities in order to get off the ground, but it was a sure thing if properly implemented. I got one male (Patrick) and one female (Brenda) classmate, each with vastly different areas of expertise, to join me in a start-up as soon as we got our MBAs. I had stopped looking for a mate and instead hooked up with a fuck buddy (Chalmers) in graduate school. I got the seed capital that we needed from my fuck buddy Chalmers, who had dropped out of the MBA program because he got bored with it and he had so much family money that he didn't need to work. I got 55% of the stock in our startup and the other three got 15% each.

By two years after our company got off the ground we were extremely successful. Chalmers, the money man, had already gotten all of his capital back and was enjoying substantial dividends for not having to do anything except show up for an occasional board meeting and treat Brenda, Patrick, and me to a lavish dinner or weekend. Brenda and Patrick were great in their jobs, and I flourished as the CEO and idea person. It was then that I met Todd.

I ran into Todd at some conference – I don't even remember what it was about. He is my age and the best looking guy, for my tastes, that I had ever seen. While he had a college degree he apparently wasn't very motivated because he was the lowest level person from his company that attended the conference.

Todd lived in the closest city to where my business was; it was only about twenty five miles away. I was shocked and thrilled when called me up after the conference and asked me out because to my way of thinking he had the looks and charm to get virtually any girl that he wanted.

I never had fucked a guy on the first date before – in fact not on the second, third or fourth either, for that matter – but he was so goddamn sexy and my reaction to him was so strong that we ended up fucking in his car on the first date. I had never been fucked in a car before, either.

Our second date was the day after our first one. We just went to dinner and without even bothering for desert or coffee quickly went to my apartment. On a bed, instead of the back seat of a car, he was all time. I had my first orgasm when he just touched my clit with a finger. I had my second when he gave me a "shocker" (two fingers in the slit, one in the shit; two in the gash, one in the stash; or dozens of other euphemisms). I had my third when his tongue touched my clit while a finger still remained in my pucker hole. The fourth came as soon as his perfect cock unceremoniously penetrated my pussy. A fifth orgasm, so mammoth that it rendered me temporarily unconscious for the first time in my life, resulted from him injecting what it seemed like was a pint of cum into me.

Before Todd and I got out of bed the next morning – a Sunday – we had had virtually no sleep, but he had had three orgasms and I had had so many that I couldn't count them all. I was on cloud nine when he told me "You made me cum harder and with more enjoyment than any other women in my life. It seems like your pussy fits my cock perfectly, and your pelvic action is all time! Plus, you could suck the chrome off of a trailer hitch."

"You bring out the best in me," was my smiling reply.

I quickly fell for Todd, and apparently he for me, since we got married within six months of our first of many Saturday-Sunday fuck fests. He wasn't perfect because he was not particularly motivated and lacked passion for anything except fucking – but he was charming, pleasant, and easy-going in addition to being a sex God, so I jumped at the chance to marry him.

His main drawback was his mother. His father had died at an early age, and he was close to her. She was a very attractive woman – considering how good-looking her son was that wasn't surprising – but a total bitch. Despite my intelligence, wealth, and much better than average looks I apparently wasn't good enough for him in her eyes. However, since she lived about a thousand miles away, and didn't have much money, fortunately I didn't have to deal with her face-to-face more than two or three times a year.

When it became clear that I was going to marry Todd my business partners had a come-to-Jesus meeting with me.

"You're going to have to have a pre-nuptial agreement," Patrick told me flat out.

"Why is that?" I naively inquired.

"We can't have anything affect the company; you can never know if a relationship will end in divorce no matter how rosy it is, but you can't let a divorce destroy or complicate what we have here," Brenda sternly admonished.

Chalmers wasn't too concerned because he had so much money from other interests. He was distressed, however, that once I started dating Todd that I never hooked up with him again. Sometimes I wonder if his initial investment was just to facilitate our occasional fuck fests.

After a talk with our company attorney, who was even more insistent than Patrick and Brenda were, if you can believe that, I presented Todd with a pre-nup that the attorney had drafted. I was very pleased when Todd wasn't particularly non-plussed by it and signed it the day after I gave it to him. It provided that if we divorced for any reason that he would leave with everything that he brought into the marriage plus $1 million or 50% of my non-business assets acquired during the marriage, whichever was less, but not less than $200,000. No alimony was to go from either party to the other. In no event would Todd have any claim to anything associated with the business.

I bought a house just before we got married, and Todd moved in with me and got a new job in the city my business is in.

I thought that the first three years of our marriage were great, including sex an average of five times a week. Todd and I jointly decided to start a family on our three year anniversary, but got more than we bargained for when I got pregnant within a month of when I went off birth control. When I started to get really, really big I had a sonogram and found out that I was having triplets. There were no multiple births in either my family or Todd's, and we weren't using fertility drugs, so that was shocking news.

By the time that I was seven and a half months pregnant I was incapacitated. We had to hire a housekeeper-cook and I had to conduct business from my bed, including having my secretary at my house most of the day Monday-Saturday. Fortunately, I had a fairly normal delivery – as normal as you can have when you spit out triplets – and our two little boys and little girl were all healthy.

I was out of commission sexually for about five months counting both before and after the babies' deliveries. While Todd lamented that he was thrilled by becoming a father and took it surprisingly well considering our active sex life up until I was about six months pregnant. We had to hire an experienced full time nanny because three active babies at the same time is way more than two inexperienced people can handle even if we didn't have jobs.

After the kids were a year old Todd lost his job. I was a little suspicious about that because I never had any inkling that it was in danger, but never made any inquiry about it. His attitude about it was more positive than negative. "Say, Amy, do you mind if I become a house-husband? While Mrs. Jensen is a good nanny, wouldn't you rather that one of us be the primary care giver for our kids? Rather than looking for a new job I should assume the most important one of all, taking care of the kids."

We had no money problems. My company had become the industry leader in a few short years and we had more than we could reasonably spend despite the fact that we had already fully funded all three kids' college education accounts. Since I didn't find out about the Navajo Indians until much later, after a few days thought, and detailed discussions with Mrs. Jensen and Todd I agreed. He became a full time caregiver, and we put Mrs. Jensen on part time, about twenty hours a week.

You may legitimately ask "What do the Navajo Indians have to do with that?" I'll tell you. Anthropologists were long puzzled why the Navajo's had about four times the incident of albinism that they should have had. In doing a detailed study they found that the albino men were treated specially, and did not have to go out to the fields or hunting during the day like the rest of the Navajo men. That gave them a sexual advantage.

Stupid me! Apparently Todd did albino Navajo men proud. I didn't catch on until the triplets were four years old; since I was getting serviced an average of three times a week by Todd and he never outwardly changed his attitude toward me. I was fat, dumb and happy (that's just an expression; actually I was far from fat, having gone back to my pre-pregnancy weight of 120 pounds in my five foot six inch frame within six months of delivering the kids).

The details of how I caught on to Todd's dalliances are not particularly important. They did include an anonymous tip from a former paramour who had been jilted by Todd, a review of his cell phone and email records, and a few overheard conversations. As I guess is normal, at first I rationalized the evidence, but eventually realized that he was fucking around and not too discretely at that.

I came home one morning after the kids were in pre-school specifically to catch him in the act; and unfortunately was successful. He was just about to start fucking a naked woman named Cheryl – in our bed, no less. I went ballistic and smacked her good. Fortunately she smacked me back so that we both ended up with facial trauma otherwise I probably would have been arrested for assault.

Todd's reaction once the cunt was evicted was shocking. He bluntly told me that she was a better fuck than I was after I had the kids and that if I wanted him to stay around that I'd have to accept a couple of sessions a week with her, or maybe someone else.

Unfortunately I got a real surprise when I immediately filed for divorce, tried to get Todd evicted from the house that I alone owned, and joint custody of the kids. Todd got a decent lawyer who argued that he was the children's primary caregiver, which is something that I had agreed to years earlier, and that he should get sole custody. Our state had recently passed an "equality in marriage" or some such act which the family court judge that we were assigned interpreted to mean that I got no preference whatsoever as the mother, breadwinner, or wronged party. Further, in view of my episode with Cheryl where I had smacked her, that I should be the one to move out until everything with the divorce was settled.

I didn't like the male judge's attitude. "What the hell do you mean that I have to move out of the house that I own and paid for while he gets to fuck whomever he wants in it?" I screamed.

"Mrs. Simmons-Pratt, sit down and shut up or I'll hold you in contempt," he blared.

"I already hold you in contempt so that will make us even," I snarled.

Fortunately I had a good attorney that the Judge liked and he intervened and at least kept me out of jail, although I was fined $500 (BFD). Even more fortunately my attorney suggested that we hire the Judge's daughter – a local attorney – as co-counsel so that he would have to recuse himself and we would get another judge. I jumped at that chance.

With the new judge I was able to get visitation rights whenever I wanted, including getting custody during the weekends. Todd was making the divorce as difficult as possible, however. I'm sure that his goal was to get a more favorable deal than the ironclad pre-nup provided, and was using the initial ruling and attempt at sole custody of the kids as leverage. I knew that he legitimately loved the kids, and they him, so I never even attempted sole custody – I was happy with joint – but he was being a real shit about it.

The first judge's daughter turned out not to just be a good hire because it got him off the case – she had some real insight into handling a contentious divorce. Among the many things that she told me was to pretend that I was trying to be conciliatory, and to suck in my pride and act like I had forgiven Todd even though there was no way that I was going back with him. She also had some good ideas about how to approach just revenge, although nothing like what I eventually came up with.

I did "make nice" with Todd, including even once while his cunt Cheryl was present. I even "apologized" to the cunt, though my fingers were crossed and my stomach in knots when I did that. I was, after all, a thespian and this was the most important performance of my life.

While the divorce continued I was always pleasant to Todd, and though he still was, as far as I was concerned, being an ass, at least we were able to intelligently discuss things having to do with the children, and I think that he honestly believed that I didn't hate him. Now it was time to implement my revenge on him; while I despised the cunt Cheryl since I had long ago found out that she was only the latest of many, going back to when I was pregnant and sexually unavailable, I didn't need more than token revenge on her to satisfy my blood-lust.

If you have money it is surprising what types of revenge you can take, when you can buy or get done almost anything you want, especially if you know the right people. By my own admission my plan was viscous – but Todd made me realize that you need to fight evil with evil. Any apprehension that I had about doing what I was about to do was overcome whenever I thought about the callous way that he treated me when I discovered his cheating, and the fact that his cheating had started while I was pregnant with his kids!

By extensive research I found out about a less-than-honorable compounding pharmacy in Maine that was being prosecuted for a number of violations of consumer protection laws. The pharmacist-owner needed money badly for his legal defense. I made one call on a first burner phone to tell him what I wanted, a second call on a second burner to confirm that it was available, and then in a professional disguise personally went to see him so as not to leave any electronic trail. He was happy to make up what I wanted for $25,000 in cash; an almost tasteless and colorless compound in liquid form that would cause abdominal and back pain, weight loss, nausea, and diarrhea, while not resulting in any adverse long-term effects.

Todd had several habits that were more like addictions. The most important to him was to have a single malt scotch every day, specifically Aberlour 14. It's nose, palate and finish are so powerful that even if the compound I bought wasn't tasteless it would have been virtually impossible to detect. While Todd had the key-operated locks on the house changed he forgot about the garage door and the keypad from the garage into the house. I waited until he was out on Tuesday, went through the garage, and poured some of my newly acquired liquid into his single malt Scotch.

Saturday when I went to pick up the kids for my weekend with them Todd didn't look too good.

"Todd, what's wrong? You really seem to be ailing," I said in as sincere a tone as I could muster.

"I have pain right here," Todd replied, pointing to his abdomen, "and my back hurts like hell."

"Do you have nausea or diarrhea?" I inquired with seemingly even more concern in my voice.

"Yeah, I've had some episodes."

"Have you lost any weight – you look thinner," I continued with a frown.

"I haven't got on a scale, but my pants are looser," he moaned.

"Todd, you need to go see a doctor."

"Cheryl says I'll be fine," he mumbled.

"Since when is she some fucking medical expert," I said under my breath after making sure that the kids were traipsing around the front yard and out of earshot. When that got the expected angry look from him I immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Todd – I shouldn't have phrased it like that. But you are the primary caregiver of our kids, and I can't have you dying on them. How about if I have Betsy Granger give you a call?" Betsy Granger is a doctor and an old friend of mine who Todd has met many times and hit on at parties for free medical advice relating to the kids.

Todd's angry look disappeared. "OK... that can't hurt, I guess."

"Do you have anything for your nausea?" I asked.

"No, not really – that just started yesterday," he replied.

"I'll be right back with something," I responded.

I hustled the kids in the car and then drove them to the local park for twenty minutes, before promising to take them to the zoo. I already had a bottle of over-the-counter nausea medicine which I had doctored with my special liquid. I drove back to the house, told the kids to wait in the car, and went back to the front door; Todd answered, but only after three rings.

"Sorry to disturb you, Todd, but I got what is supposed to be the best anti-nausea medicine. Let's get some in you," I said, almost pushing past him to go to the kitchen.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked

"If this doesn't help you may have a serious problem," I said, pretending to break the seal on the cap, and then pouring out two ounces in a glass. "Drink this," I said, handing the glass to him.

Todd drank it and made a face. "Doesn't taste very good."

"Wash it down with some of your precious Aberlour 14," I said without hesitation, "that makes anything taste good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I will....thanks."

"See you Sunday right after dinner, about 7:00 p.m.," I chirped as I walked toward the door. "Feel better." I pumped my fist as I scurried to the car.

After the kids and I had a full day and I got them dinner and to bed in a furnished house I had rented, reading them only one story they were so tired, I called my good friend Betsy Granger.

"Hi, Betsy; how come I caught you in on a Saturday night? I was expecting your voicemail," I chuckled.

"I was on call until just an hour ago, and had two emergencies today, so it's lucky that John and I had no plans because I'm too tired to do anything except get the foot massage John promised me," she chortled.

"Well I sure don't want to keep you from that – but I have a problem. Can you give me a couple of minutes?"

"Sure, Amy – shoot!"

"Well I saw Todd today and he looked horrible. I wouldn't give a damn except that he is the primary care giver for our kids, and I really need for him to see a doctor, but he's not inclined to," I said in my most serious voice.