Message-ID: <12924eli$9807101229@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tonytony3@juno.com (anthony anthony) Subject: tonytony3's Maria's Revenge 1/2 *(cheating, revenge) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980710.070120.16471.1.tonytony3@juno.com> tonytony3's Maria's Revenge 1/2 *(cheating, revenge) “Go to Boston Center now, on 118.05” “Center on 118.05 for triple X-Ray.” I dialed the new frequency into COM 2, switched over to that radio, pressed the mike switch on the yoke, and reported in. It was the expected response. “Roger, X Ray cubed, radar contact.” Yeah, they saw me. What an unusual day. Just four hours ago I thought I’d be spending another night in Cleveland. Then, we had a breakthrough. If I’d be willing to accept an equity interest in the company, as well as a bit less money, they’d license my patent. “That way”, John explained, “we’d be sure you’d be around when we wanted you. You’d have a vested interest.” Damn right. It would make me truly independent, independent of my wife’s family for that matter, and we’d live ‘happily ever after’. Hey, I’m within a hundred miles of home! Fly the damn airplane, stop daydreaming, plan ahead. “Boston Center, Mooney six niner triple X Ray would like lower, please.” “Triple X, descend now to 7000 feet.” “Triple X out of 11 for 7.” Close the cowl flaps, pull an inch or so off the manifold pressure, trim a bit nose down. . . there it is, a 500 feet a minute descent. That’ll burn 8 minutes, and get me 24 miles closer. So, we signed the letter of intent. Our lawyers would see to the details. I made a quick call home, and told Maria I’d be home about 11 tonight. What a life! I called flight service: an Instrument Flight Rules plan would be needed: Rain and clouds and shit all the way. I filed a flight plan, ETD in an hour. John’s wife offered to drive me to the hotel, and then to the airport. You bet I accepted: a big mistake. She came up to the room with me, watched as I started to pack, went into the bathroom as I continued, and she came out, wearing only a towel, just as I finished filling my garment bag. “You’re in the big leagues, now, Al. Time for some big league perqs”, she said. Until then I was a faithful husband. But when she came closer to me, and my arms automatically went around her, and felt the towel on her back. The towel opened, and I touched her skin. Then only our bodies close together held the towel up, and I saw, in the mirror, her nude back, her naked ass, and those wonderful legs, and she said “Don’t you like me?”, and stepped away, and then the towel was gone, and her breasts were as lovely as her legs, and her waist was so slender, and her hips, and her figure, and. . . and I couldn’t resist. She drove me wild, and then drove me to the Burke Lakefront airport, and drove out to the airplane to help keep me dry, and then, after preflight she climbed into the cockpit with me to “Tuck me in”, and I was never sucked off like that before. I’ll have to change my night time pre-start check list. Let’s see, right after “verify gear switch is set to down” I’ll add “Extinguish all interior lights, position pilot seat fully aft, undo pants, have passenger test alternate joy stick for freedom of movement and lick-off”, and. . . I could still smell her, still feel her mouth, feel the sensation of that first penetration. And, I missed my scheduled ETD by only a half hour! A life changing half hour. I don’t want to be an unfaithful husband, as great as that sex was. I won’t let it happen again. Back to the real world. I had to call home. I pushed one side of the headset off, pulled out the cellular phone, and called. There’s never a problem with cell phone connections when you’re a mile and a half up in the sky. “Maria, I’m 20 minutes out. Will you pick me up?” “Sure, Al: be careful, viz is awful, it’s windy, and dark, and raining. I’ll see you soon.” Maria’s a pilot, too. More than that, she went through the bother to become a CFII: she was licensed to teach, including flying on instruments. ATIS, the automatic briefing broadcast, confirmed what Maria reported. 300 feet ceiling, a mile visibility, winds 140 degrees at 23 gusts to 35. It would mean flying the approach to near minimums: as low as I care to go. Then, I’d have to fly the airplane onto the ground in those cross winds. There’d be nothing subtle about this landing. “Triple X, continue decent to 3000.” “X’s is out of 8 for 3.” As expected, a few minutes later, the next hand-off: ”Triple X, Boston Approach now, 122.25.” “Twenty two, twenty five for X cubed. See Ya.” I twisted in the new freq on COM 1, switched radios, and made the call. “Approach, Mooney six niner triple X Ray out of 5 for 3, with Hanscom information Bravo”, confirming I listened to the ATIS broadcast. “Triple X, radar contact. Continue decent to 2,500, expect an ILS to one one. Current ATIS information is Charlie.” The weather was changing quickly, I guessed, for the worse. It sucks, but the instrument landing system to runway 11 had the lowest landing minimums at the airport. I should get home. All was going well. This WAS the big leagues. “Triple X, you are 4 miles from the outer marker. Cleared for an ILS to Hanscom runway 11. Contact tower on 119 point 5 at the outer marker.” “Roger, cleared for the ILS, tower on nineteen five at the outer marker.” The localizer reported I was lined up, and here comes the glide slope. . . centered, and there was the “beep beep beep” of the outer marker, the ADF needle swung around and pointed to the tail, and gear down and flaps at thirty percent - no full flap landing in these winds - and mixture and prop forward, fuel pump on, get the decent rate on the glide slope nailed, and switch the radio to tower and “Triple X is at the marker inbound.” “Mooney Triple X Ray, Hanscom tower, cleared to land.” I checked and rechecked: the airplane was all set up for a missed approach in case I don’t break out of the clouds in time to land. “Always treat finding the airport a happy accident” my wife/instructor says - that way not finding it when you are as low as you can go won’t be a surprise. Hey, that wasn’t so bad. 400 feet above the ground and a mile from the runway threshold I saw the VASI, the strobe lead in lights, got my landing lights on (you keep them off when you’re in the clouds, the glare can really screw up night vision), and on to the runway without bending or breaking anything, and taxied to the tie down. God didn’t punish me for fucking around! At least, not yet. I saw the headlights, and my wife drove the minivan to the airplane. She was tying down the tail before I was out, and in a moment the airplane was secure. I got a welcoming kiss, and then, when the lights were on in the van, it started. “Al, there’s lipstick on your mouth. And on your collar!” There’s no washroom on a little airplane: no way to alter evidence, and there was no time to think of an excuse. It was a silent ride home. Then we were in the door, and she looked at me, and - they always know, don’t they? “YOU WERE FUCKING AROUND!” I can’t lie to her. I tried to explain. I rationalized. It was no big deal, a one time event, it would never happen again, and I was sorry, so sorry, and. . . She wasn’t buying it. Maria is Sicilian. She has old country values. So do I, for that matter. “Not a big thing. Big man, telling his wife it’s not big thing for him to screw around.” >From a high to as low as possible in a couple of hours. I love my wife. She’s the most important thing in my life to me. I told her all of that, but somehow those explanations weren’t carrying any weight. I slept in the guest room for the next two nights. Maria was still angry. “I can’t even tell my family!” Her family! I forgot about that! I could be a dead man. I flashed back to our wedding, and her dad taking me aside as he gave me keys to our house: “A little wedding present”. And I remembered what he told me. “I like you, Al, but if you ever hurt my Maria you will regret being born!” And I remember her three big brothers talking to me later. “I’ll bet pop told you Maria is the apple of his eye, and he probably threatened you if you didn’t keep her happy” her oldest brother, Monsignor Mario, guessed. “That’s right, Mario. That’s what he said.” Well, yes, I do call him Mario. He did say family didn’t have to use his honorifics. “You don’t have to worry about him,” Vincent, the lawyer brother said. “If you do anything bad to her, by the time we’re done with you, there won’t be enough left for pop to hurt!” Mario added “I was happy to celebrate your Wedding Mass, I’d hate to have to do your funeral one.” And Jack, the brother with the construction company, - Big Jack, he’s called - didn’t say anything. He just shook my hand, nodding congratulations on marrying his little sister, and it only took a week for the pain in my hand to go away. That was the family I prayed she wasn’t going to tell! Finally, four days after Cleveland, I was summoned by her. “Sit.” I sat. “Tell me every detail.” I did. “OK. I decided I want this marriage to continue.” She stated. Thank God. “Me too”, I agreed. “But, I’m Sicilian. Every fiber in me demands revenge.” “Maria, it wasn’t a big important thing, it won’t happen again. . .” That argument wasn’t going to work. “Not a big thing! If I screwed around you’d go crazy!!” “No, no.” That was the wrong thing to say. “We’ll see about that!” She stormed out. There are times when I think I’m pretty smart, and then there are times when I prove I’m not. Like just then. The next evening Maria threw the contract, the one that came from Cleveland, that brother Vincent just reviewed, on the table. “Vincent says you’ve got a good deal here. This is fine for us. Sign it.” Well, that part of the trip paid off. I signed. “I’ve decided on how I will have my revenge.” “Anything, Maria.” “You’ve always been a jealous man, Al. I am a jealous woman. We’ll see about your ‘anything’ Be here when I get back from the gym.” She left, wearing that damned spandex workout suit that made her look so good. I had not been near that body since Cleveland. Ninety minutes later a slammed front door announced a sweaty Maria returned. She marched into my den. “Do you remember about Frank?” “Frank?” “Frank’s that detective who’s always propositioning me at the gym.” “Oh, that Frank. Yeah, I do remember.” “You’re the bastard who said fucking around is no big deal. Frank’s on his way here. Let’s see just how big a deal it is!” “What?!” “You just let him in when he gets here. I’m taking a shower!” “But.. .” “No buts. It’s my revenge!” “But. . .” But nothing. She was gone up to the bath room. I was left standing there, mouth open. Stunned. I was still standing there when, in a few minutes the bell rang. I opened the door, and Frank: great big black Frank, wearing his Members Only jacket, boat shoes, chinos, and a golf shirt, pushed his way in. “You gotta be Al. Christ, you fucked up big time.” “What the hell?” He interrupted. “I’ve been wanting to screw your wife from the first time I laid eyes on her. I told her a long time ago it could be any time, any where, any way, the kinkier the better. Tonight she told me you screwed around, and if I still wanted to, tonight was my night, this here was the place, and showing you what it’s like to have your wife screw around is the way. I like parties like this. Where is she?” “She’s in the shower, but. . .” This big man just said “Shut up. Get me a beer.” I heard a voice from upstairs: “Do what you’re told!” And then Maria appeared, wearing a long robe. She took Frank by the hand - no beer, a success!- and pulled him angrily up stairs. At the top of the stairs she turned, and saw me standing there, mouth open. “Get up here” she demanded. “You’re the one who said this was no big deal.” The grin on Frank’s face was lecherous as he beckoned me with his finger. His middle finger. He was led and led me to the guest room. The bed was turned down, the lighting was low. Maria drained a drink she had in the room. Poured another. “Let’s get this over with,” she said. ======================================== _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----