Vanessa knew when she landed she was far too distraught, angry, and shaking to drive her own vehicle, so she left her car in the airport parking lot and hailed the first taxi cab she saw at the curbside of the terminal. Her palms were sweating profusely, her heart was racing, her mind reeling with all manners of adulterous visions, as she sat in the back seat rocking back and forth a little, her mouth was dry and she said nothing to her driver, other than to give him the address of her home; which she shared with her husband. It was a short twenty minute ride across the city to the marina and Vanessa dreaded each mile that brought her closer, because she knew what she would find. Sure enough, as the taxi pulled up across the street, Vanessa felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she spied a little, silver convertible Mercedes parked in the driveway, of HER house, where she lived, for many years, with HER husband. Vanessa was so overcome by this sight she felt as if she were falling down, even though she was still seated. The driver tried to get her attention so she would pay the fare and get out of his cab, and when he turned to look at her, he saw all the color had drained from her face and she looked as if she had just seen a ghost.
She did not remember paying the driver, nor could she recall walking across the busy street full of morning day traffic and as she moved it seemed to her as if this all was happening to someone else, Vanessa almost felt as if she were viewing herself from above, as if she were watching herself in some dream, but no, this was a true nightmare of reality. Vanessa was not sure how she had entered the house, for she did not remember unlocking the door, or slowly closing it behind her as she crept down the hall so early on that Saturday morning. Inch by inch she walked down the corridor Vanessa's raw emotions were electrified by the sound of a woman's voice, an American woman's voice saying in ecstasy "Oh Camacho, fuck me harder!"
The next moment was crucial. Vanessa had two choices, confront her husband and his American whore in her bed.., or turn around and walk away. However, Jealousy is a harsh and cruel master which had her heart locked in it's iron fist, so all of her bitterness, and vengeful anger, surpassed all of her reason and Vanessa continued to walk on down the hall. Then she came to her bedroom door, and she looked inside. Shock, shock, horror, horror, shock, shock, horror! There, in her bed, the bed she shared with her husband, Vanessa found Camacho mounted atop a young woman, her knees up and she was moaning with his delight, though the two devils did not notice Vanessa standing there. Mortified Vanessa stepped back towards the threshold of the doorway, her eyes as wide as saucers, her shaking hands covering her mouth, and for the first time in her life she found she could not speak. Though she tried to cry out, to make them stop, but when she attempted to form the words, no sound would come. Vanessa's fragile mind was so traumatized by the salacious sight of her naked husband thrusting himself, joyously, in and out of his whore, the two of them breathing hard, sweating, sticky, kissing and licking each other. Vanessa was disgusted she went out into the hall feeling as if she would vomit. In silence, her mind ever darkening, Vanessa went back the way she came, tears streaming down her face, as she took in short, quick breaths trying her best not to make a sound. As Vanessa made her way to the kitchen, where she kept her gun, a strange stream of consciousness flooded her thoughts and as if her mind wanted her to remember.
The logic came in a loud thunder in her brain, like lightning flashing across the sky. Vanessa remember her existence, thus far, being the pampered wife of a rich and famous man, had given her very little opportunity for fury. So it was Vanessa gave up her will to the rapture of the malevolent hatred in her heart; which demanded of her that these two devils must die TODAY! Such was the vile bitterness in her soul and it is not right that any woman should be forced to endure such humiliation, at anytime of her life. Oh the World would be a more tranquil place, if adulterous men, and women, would not come in and break it up, very often, the love which a faithful spouse does cherish. Though this was Vanessa's fate, to have her faith in her husband shaken to it's foundation, leaving the shell of their marriage in ruins.
It was a little pearl handle .22 her husband had purchased for her, to keep at the house so she would feel safe when she was alone, while Camacho was away. She kept it in a cigar box on top of the refrigerator. Now Vanessa did not know how she wound up in the kitchen at the table with the gun in her hand, she could still hear the cries of pleasure emanating from her bedroom, and now Vanessa realized she could not, nor understand any longer, or recall, such words as: feelings, compassion and understanding, tears, love, joy, fear, unity, mercy or pity, longing, faith or God. Her heart had become like that of a savage, blood-thirsty beast, Vanessa believed now she herself was like a wild, ferocious, man-eating tiger, she was sharp of tooth and claw. She wanted revenge and nothing more.
She did not remember paying the driver, nor could she recall walking across the busy street full of morning day traffic and as she moved it seemed to her as if this all was happening to someone else, Vanessa almost felt as if she were viewing herself from above, as if she were watching herself in some dream, but no, this was a true nightmare of reality. Vanessa was not sure how she had entered the house, for she did not remember unlocking the door, or slowly closing it behind her as she crept down the hall so early on that Saturday morning. Inch by inch she walked down the corridor Vanessa's raw emotions were electrified by the sound of a woman's voice, an American woman's voice saying in ecstasy "Oh Camacho, fuck me harder!"
The next moment was crucial. Vanessa had two choices, confront her husband and his American whore in her bed.., or turn around and walk away. However, Jealousy is a harsh and cruel master which had her heart locked in it's iron fist, so all of her bitterness, and vengeful anger, surpassed all of her reason and Vanessa continued to walk on down the hall. Then she came to her bedroom door, and she looked inside. Shock, shock, horror, horror, shock, shock, horror! There, in her bed, the bed she shared with her husband, Vanessa found Camacho mounted atop a young woman, her knees up and she was moaning with his delight, though the two devils did not notice Vanessa standing there. Mortified Vanessa stepped back towards the threshold of the doorway, her eyes as wide as saucers, her shaking hands covering her mouth, and for the first time in her life she found she could not speak. Though she tried to cry out, to make them stop, but when she attempted to form the words, no sound would come. Vanessa's fragile mind was so traumatized by the salacious sight of her naked husband thrusting himself, joyously, in and out of his whore, the two of them breathing hard, sweating, sticky, kissing and licking each other. Vanessa was disgusted she went out into the hall feeling as if she would vomit. In silence, her mind ever darkening, Vanessa went back the way she came, tears streaming down her face, as she took in short, quick breaths trying her best not to make a sound. As Vanessa made her way to the kitchen, where she kept her gun, a strange stream of consciousness flooded her thoughts and as if her mind wanted her to remember.
The logic came in a loud thunder in her brain, like lightning flashing across the sky. Vanessa remember her existence, thus far, being the pampered wife of a rich and famous man, had given her very little opportunity for fury. So it was Vanessa gave up her will to the rapture of the malevolent hatred in her heart; which demanded of her that these two devils must die TODAY! Such was the vile bitterness in her soul and it is not right that any woman should be forced to endure such humiliation, at anytime of her life. Oh the World would be a more tranquil place, if adulterous men, and women, would not come in and break it up, very often, the love which a faithful spouse does cherish. Though this was Vanessa's fate, to have her faith in her husband shaken to it's foundation, leaving the shell of their marriage in ruins.
It was a little pearl handle .22 her husband had purchased for her, to keep at the house so she would feel safe when she was alone, while Camacho was away. She kept it in a cigar box on top of the refrigerator. Now Vanessa did not know how she wound up in the kitchen at the table with the gun in her hand, she could still hear the cries of pleasure emanating from her bedroom, and now Vanessa realized she could not, nor understand any longer, or recall, such words as: feelings, compassion and understanding, tears, love, joy, fear, unity, mercy or pity, longing, faith or God. Her heart had become like that of a savage, blood-thirsty beast, Vanessa believed now she herself was like a wild, ferocious, man-eating tiger, she was sharp of tooth and claw. She wanted revenge and nothing more.
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