It is said that revenge is sweet but respected psychologists will admit that is rewarding and uplifting as well. Im not talking about the kind of over the top revenge where someone or something is actually physically harmed or damaged – you know like killing someone or beating your exs car to smithereens with a baseball bat because she slept with your brother –***** *****. No, that would mean jail time and I cant do jail. I wouldnt want someone to do something stupid to me while I was in there. Jail is whack.

Im talking about the kind of revenge in which the pain-inflicting perpetrator suffers the same kind of humiliation as the recipient. If someone lies TO you, you lie ABOUT them. If someone is pulling your leg, you pull out all the stops. If someone threatens to reveal the fact you had a ***** change operation (which by the way no one would believe because YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS, TWO SNAPS UP FOR SURE) , you threaten to reveal their fruit and vegetable fetish (picture banana, cucumbers, bodily orifices –catch my drift?). Anyway, I dont know why I am telling you this– I guess it is just another unwanted side effect of my fan fic addiction.

I have spent hours and hours formulating my plan for revenge . Honing the details, perfecting the timing, covering all the bases, dotting the Is, crossing the ts, making sure the moment is right . Seems like being a stickler for detail has become just another obsessive, addictive behavioral pattern for me.

Throwing myself into this project has lifted my spirits and K has noticed a difference in my personality lately. A positive difference – – she isnt quite as worried about me as she has been. Not only has all this preoccupation with getting even made me happy, its made me horny. So yesterday afternoon I felt the overriding urge to ***** while dreaming of the fall of those who drag me down. I accomplished this act of self-pleasuring both manually and mechanically (Say hello to my liddle friend!) and IN FRONT OF K ! (of course this happened AFTER I finished a delightful session of FAN FIC stories and called K to join me for dinner).

Neither of us would really qualify as very sexually adventurous , well unless you count that time in Key West with the chambermaid who cleaned our room while we vacationed. I still think we may get caught over that one because Im not sure she was 18 – she said she was but I dont know. And I guess you could count the 121 different public places in which we have engaged in ***** – -we have a list of 327 places we want to complete but Im not sure thats really adventurous behavior as much as it is trying to accomplish a goal in life.

I will admit to having a dark side when it comes to *****, a side which I share only with K. She brings out the best and worst in me and I adore her for that. As I sat in a chair facing the bed, one leg straddled over an arm, the other dangling to the floor, K sat on the bed removing her clothing piece by piece.. She wants me to use my fingers, not the device. I was wearing nothing but a tank top (white, of course) and K is completely naked by the time my little digital dance number is finished. Knowing by this time Id be a river of milk and honey , she told me to candy coat the vibrating ***** , bring it to her then go put that thing on cause we were gonna get nasty. Ks not one to get nasty very often but when she says thats what were gonna do, aint no way on Gods green earth Im saying no even though this isnt my all-time favorite thing to do.

I hand K my liddle friend and am frozen in place watching her put in her mouth, rotating it around, pushing it slowly and deliberately in and out. She removes it long enough to angrily say go put that thing on NOW and get over here. Just a little scared by her tone, I go to the dresser drawer and find the flesh colored bathing cap she sometimes wears when swimming in my pool. I put it on – making me appear to be bald – just the effect K desires. I walk back and kneel at the side of the bed lost in the sight of her licking and sucking my residual juices off the ***** as if they were drops of ice cream leaking from a cone on a hot day. She stops long enough to order me around again — Ok, DO IT– I SAID JUST DO IT This is the part I hate, but I would kill for K, die for her, so I guess I can do this for her.. . For us.

I start slapping my head and face all the while Yuck-Yuck Yuck ing it up — yep, thats right , K is a Stooges freak, and it has been made apparent to me over the course of our relationship the CURLY really gets her off. So thats what I do – – my best Curly impression. AGAIN! she demands. Again, I hit myself in the head and face just a little harder and faster this time all the while trying to imitate that famous Curly sound. AGAIN she is practically screaming now. I start hitting myself so hard and so fast that I truly believe I am going to give myself a black eye — try explaining that one to your friends!

I am watching her as I perform my little act of seduction (if thats what you want to call it) She stops with the *****, bites her bottom her lip and and puffs out her cheeks as if she is going to vomit, then suddenly bursts out laughing accidentally showering me with her spit. She is laughing so hard that I begin to do the same until tears are running down my cheeks. Oh my gawd, this is one of the most fun and funniest rituals in which we engage and the end result is always the same. We laugh so uncontrollably that we have abdominal pains for days afterwards — the kind of pains you get when you exercise too much! By this time I am balled up on the floor while K is hanging off the bed, both of us getting to that point of almost stopping then thinking about what we just did and start cracking up again. I sit up slowly but surely regaining my composure, wiping my eyes, to see K more clearly. She is doing the same thing — composing herself and locking looks with me. Then it starts to happen – she is so turned on by this time that she demands I get into the bed. She grabs the vibrator from the pillow to make room for me and flings it blindly across the room all the while in a state of built-up sexual passion. She then pulls the bathing cap from my head, grabs my hair and roughly yanks me up. I hear glass shatter as the ***** she tossed hits the mirror on the dresser – Jesus, K, thats the fourth one this year. If were going to keep doing this you had better practice your aim, and YOURE paying for this one. K doesnt care. K just wants to have ***** NOW.

Just shut up and get up here, her voice desperate and wanton, her eyes half-closed, dark with an almost frightening desire.

K still has a hold of my hair as I crawl into the bed. She pulls me on top of her locking her legs around my waist and squeezing so tightly I can not breathe , kissing me like its the first time weve ever done it her tongue so far down my throat she tickles my tonsils. I know at that moment that I am going to be fucked by K likes its the last time well ever do it and if she kills me in the process at least I will die happy – I just hope I ***** before the expiration date. I silently thank Larry and Mo for making Curly such character , and I am not really surprised by the fact I instantly cream my jeans every time she calls me a Knucklehead. More than just a term of endearment for us !!

Several hours later we lie together, me on my back with one arm behind my head and K wrapped all over me, her head on my chest. I run my fingers through her hair, lightly, repeatedly. She is contently sleeping. I am silently giggling SO unable to sleep. I remind myself to check the TV listings and find out when the next Stooges 24-hour marathon is. Im not sure I can physically survive an all-day love assault. I know the furniture sure cant.

All I can think about as I lie here so blissfully in love with this woman is how this little episode of afternoon delight would make for a good FAN FIC story . . .

God, I am so pathetic. Even in my most intimate and vulnerable moments I somehow manage to go to L and I am really beginning to hate you all for creating such a sorry creature.

Someone is going to pay . . Its time to hook the hookers. . .

TBC