I found my husband with another woman and got my revenge on his betrayal

That night I was walking around the house in a thin little at-home dress, one of those that seem modest but hide nothing. Under it I was only wearing a thong and nothing else. I was finishing washing the dinner dishes when the doorman called me on the intercom to let me know a man was asking for me.

“Did he say his name?” I asked.

When he gave me the name, I recognized it right away. It was Diego, my husband’s cousin.

“Ah, yes, let him up. Thank you.”

I knocked on the door myself when I heard him arrive, and when I opened it I found his face pale and twisted. He looked like a man bringing bad news and not knowing where to begin.

“Mariana, come quickly,” he said without even greeting me.

“What happened? And Andrés? I thought you were with him.”

“We were having a drink, yes. But he insisted on going somewhere else, to a strip club. And he stayed.”

I froze for a second, weighing every word.

“Stayed? What do you mean, stayed? Did something happen?”

“No, not that,” he said, dropping his gaze. “It’s just that it pissed me off. You’ve got a husband standing next to a woman like you and he goes and disrespects you like that. It made me furious to see it.”

I stood there thinking, chewing on the anger. I’m not jealous, never have been, but what made my blood boil was the lie. Andrés had told me he had a work dinner, something boring and formal, and it turned out he was tucked away in some sleazy joint with God knows who.

“Take me there,” I said. “I want to see it with my own eyes.”

Diego hesitated, but nodded. I grabbed a long coat to cover my dress and we went downstairs.

***

The place was on the other side of the city, on a poorly lit avenue. I asked Diego to walk in front of me, as if I weren’t with him, and that was how we reached the entrance. Security stopped me immediately.

“Women don’t go in,” he said flatly.

“I just want to see my husband for a moment, that’s all.”

He looked me up and down and shook his head.

“Not even that. We don’t want trouble with the customers.”

“I’m not going to make a scene. I swear I’ll just go in, look, and leave.”

The man spoke into his radio, and a little while later a couple came out, an older man and a woman in uniform. I explained the same thing to them, that I only needed one minute. The man insisted it was forbidden, but Diego stepped closer and discreetly slid some bills into his hand.

“One minute,” the man relented, then turned to the woman. “Search her and go with her.”

“Come on, pretty thing, I’ve got to pat you down,” she said to me.

“Of course, no problem.”

Once inside, she warned me to keep my distance, not to approach anyone or they’d have to throw me out by force. I said yes to everything. The place was dim, with the music pounding because of the show on stage. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

And then I saw him.

Andrés was on a couch in the back with a woman straddling his lap. He had her wrapped around the waist, groping her ass, kissing her neck, doing everything to her without the slightest attempt to hide it. I stared at the scene like it was a movie, one of those you know is going to hurt and yet you still don’t look away.

The woman in uniform took my arm gently and led me back toward the exit. I walked out without saying a word. Angry, hurt, humiliated, but above all with one thought turning over in my head: the liar had not been only me. I had been carrying around guilt for months that now, suddenly, felt light.

***

Diego caught up with me on the street, walking fast.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I smiled. It wasn’t a sad smile.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I just didn’t expect it.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not anymore,” I said, and it was true. “You have no idea what a weight you just took off my shoulders.”

Diego looked at me without understanding, somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Will you take me home?”

“Of course, the car’s right there.”

We walked to the car and, without thinking too much about it, I clung to his arm and hugged him as if I needed him. He returned the gesture, and when I felt his hands on me and his big body pressed against mine, something lit up inside. It was a mix of spite, rage, and an enormous urge to give Andrés exactly what he was doing to me at that very moment. Diego took me by the waist and I pressed myself harder against him.

When we got to the car he opened the door for me.

“Get in, beautiful.”

As soon as he sat behind the wheel and started the engine, my decision was already made. I threw myself onto his lap. He caught my hands, nervous.

“What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer him. With a couple of tugs I unbuckled his belt and pulled down the zipper of his pants. Beneath the fabric of his boxers, the bulge was already hard.

“Wow,” I murmured. “Why so hard?”

“It’s unavoidable,” he laughed, still tense. “With the way you look tonight…”

I pulled his cock out, generous and thick, and took it into my mouth without any preamble. I licked and stroked him with my hand at the same rhythm until it was shining.

“Drive,” I ordered, never letting go of him. “Don’t stop.”

He drove as best he could, breathing hard and broken while I kept going. When there were a couple of blocks left to my building, I sat up, pulled my thong to the side, and lowered myself onto him, letting him in slowly. Diego let out a gasp.

“I can’t drive like this,” he said.

“Then pull over.”

He stopped beside the curb. I moved on top of him, setting the pace, asking for more, while his hands gripped my hips and pulled my dress straps down. Behind us, a car honked to make us clear the lane. Diego backed into the darkest corner of the street without me stopping my movements. When he came inside me, I was already shaking, soaked, feeling like the night had only just begun.

But it wasn’t enough.

I wanted more.

***

“Take the car into my building’s garage,” I told him.

When we arrived, the doorman recognized the car and opened the gate. I rolled down the window.

“Hi, can you help me carry a few things up in a bit?”

“I’ll be with you in five minutes, Mrs. Mariana,” he answered.

I told Diego to park in the back corner and turn off the lights. A few minutes later the doorman appeared by my door, which I had left open. I was sitting sideways, dress hitched up and legs spread.

“What do we need to carry?” he asked.

“Me,” I told him.

He laughed, understanding, and reached for his pants.

“I missed you. I’d already started wanting you back,” he murmured.

“What?” Diego blurted from the seat. “Mariana, what are you doing?”

“Shut up and watch,” I told him.

I pulled the doorman’s cock out, still only half-hard, and took it into my mouth. He grabbed my hair and set the rhythm while I worked him with my tongue. When I felt he was close, I stopped, got out of the car, and bent over with my hands on the seat, offering him my back. I took Diego into my mouth again, now that he had recovered, and then I felt the doorman enter me from behind.

The first thrust tore a scream out of me.

“Harder,” I gasped.

“Easy, that’s what I came for,” he answered, holding me tightly.

Diego tried to stop me with his hand, overwhelmed, telling me I wouldn’t be able to take it like that, that he’d finish in no time. I ignored him. The doorman kept fucking me from behind, setting a brutal pace, his hands buried in my hips, until I felt him tense and finish with a rough groan. He slapped my skin and stepped away.

By then I was wearing nothing at all. The dress had ended up somewhere in a corner of the seat. I climbed back into the car and sat on Diego, this time with my back to him. As I moved, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his mouth to the nape of my neck.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t know how Andrés doesn’t realize what he has.”

At the sound of my husband’s name I quickened the pace, almost furiously, bouncing on him until that wave hit me again and left me breathless. At that same instant Diego came again inside me, holding me tight, kissing my neck, unwilling to let me go.

I sighed and slowly got up. I gathered my shoes, my crumpled dress, my thong forgotten in some corner, and got dressed halfway in the dim garage light. I didn’t look back. I went up the stairs two at a time, my heart still pounding hard and a strange calm settling in my chest.

That night, for the first time in a long time, I slept without guilt. When Andrés came home at dawn smelling of someone else’s perfume and with the excuse ready on his lips, I didn’t even open my eyes. He no longer owed me anything. We were even, even if it took him weeks to suspect it.