My cheating revenge fantasy had been living in my head, rent free, for months. A while back I learned my boyfriend, Shane, of two years had spent a passionate night with his trans ex after she popped back up in our city. I didn’t scream. Nor did I cry. I just plotted. And the perfect target? His older brother, Ryan.
I had my eye on Ryan, long before my cheating revenge fantasy was conjured up. He was four years older than Shane and I met him first, when he TA’ed one of my college classes. He was the tall, cocky one who used to tease me mercilessly every chance he got. A brush of his hand on my lower back, a low whisper in my ear calling me “trouble,” that smirk that said he knew exactly what he was doing. And after that trans cocksucker, Shane’s, betrayal, I decided it was time to burn everything down.
Two years ago, in our honeymoon phase, Shane and I were helplessly addicted to each other. We fucked on every surfase of my apartment around the clock. Slowly, we became complacent and fell into a mindless routine. By the time we moved in together last year, we were barely having sex once a week. Then I found the texts. Pictures. Hotel receipt. He begged for forgiveness, swore it was a mistake. I smiled, told him I needed time. Little did he know that time was for my cheating revenge fantasy and started planning my cheating revenge fantasy.
I knew Ryan always wanted me; the tension between us had crackled for years. From our very first office hours session alone in college to every holiday dinner, his eyes lingered a second too long in all the wrong places. This wasn’t random. This cheating revenge fantasy was destiny with a side of payback.
My cheating revenge fantasy began when I texted Ryan on a Thursday night. I told him Shane and I were fighting and asked to come over. He replied in under two minutes: “Door’s open, beautiful.” Shane on the other hand barely looked up from the TV as I told him I was off to a girls night at a friend’s house.
I had to go all out to turn my cheating revenge fantasy into a reality. So I showed up in my sexiest tight black dress, with my favorite icy blue pushup bra and panties, with heels that made my legs look endless. Ryan opened the door in gray sweatpants and a tight white tee. His eyes dropped straight to my chest, then slowly dragged back up. “What’s going on with you and your lovely boyfriend?” he asked, voice already husky. I stepped inside, closed the door, and pressed my body against his. “Does it matter? I have a sex confession for you…”
Within seconds his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel him hardening against my stomach. Fuck, he was already thicker than Shane had ever been on his best day. I looked up at him with my best innocent smile. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” I whispered. “Fuck me like Shane never could.”
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