Betsy got her revenge in style

Lemme tell you something about Betsy. It started out as a pretty ordinary Friday night. My wife was off visiting her sister so I was getting ready to enjoy a nice quiet evening at home. I popped open an ice cold Miller Draft and turned on the big screen television to start sports to watch the game.

I was debating whether to order some pizza or Chinese when the doorbell rang. I figured I was about to come face to face with someone selling something or worse yet, a Hare Krishna telling me that I needed to be saved. I was pleasantly surprised when I opened the door to see our neighbor Betsy standing on the front porch smiling.

Betsy had just turned eighteen and was often the subject of my glances any time she was lying outback tanning by their in-ground pool. She had an amazing body; she was 5’9” with slender long legs that just seemed to go on forever. Her long blonde hair framed her beautiful face and I was pretty sure that her bright blue eyes could melt any man that they gazed upon.

To me, she looked like a cuter version of Taylor Swift and as such she was pretty much perfection. Now, here she was at my door, wearing a sexy little green and white striped sundress and heeled sandals that accentuated her amazing legs.

“Hello Betsy, is there something I can do for you?” I asked, as the little voice inside me said “Oh, there are so many things you could do for this girl!”

“Hey Mr. John, I just wanted to talk to you about something, may I come inside?” I opened the screen door and watched her walk into the foyer, her perfect young ass swaying with purpose as she walked to the kitchen and I followed her.

“So what is it that you want to talk about?” I asked as she popped her young body up onto the kitchen counter, her legs dangling in front of her.

“Your wife,” was her reply.

I was pretty sure this had something to do with my wife putting her nose where it did not belong. A couple weeks ago my wife saw Betsy and a few of her friends out back by the pool having a few beers and smoking a joint and she took it upon herself to make sure that Betsy’s parents heard all about it.

“I’m sorry Betsy, I told her to mind her own business and to just stay out of it. But, as you can see, she doesn’t always listen to me.”

Betsy cracked a smile, “Yeah, so you heard about what happened then. I am SO pissed, I was supposed to be getting a new Mustang for my 18th birthday and thanks to little miss narc my parents have decided I’m not ‘mature’ enough for a new car yet.”

“Ouch, that is horrible!”

“Yep, so now I guess I get to be the girl that needs her friends or her parents to drive her everywhere she needs to go senior year, I hate it!”

“Like I said, I tried to get her to just mind her own business and really wish she would have. We were all young once, doing the same types of things.” I leaned on the counter across from Betsy, my eyes unable to keep from stealing glances of her body in that sexy little sundress as my mind tried to piece together what she was doing here on my kitchen counter complaining about my wife. Was she just blowing off steam, or was there more to it?

“Yeah, I know, it’s not your fault,” she said smiling. “You’re a good guy; it’s just too bad that you married a complete and utter bitch!” I could tell she felt awkward the minute that she said it and she immediately tried to backtrack saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, you meant it,” I said, cutting her off, “and in this case you’d be correct. She stuck her nose where it didn’t belong and you paid the price for it. I wish there was something I could do,” I said, looking into her blue eyes.

“Really?” she said, her eyes sparkling even more than usual.

“Of course, but what can I do?”

Betsy thought about it for a moment and a grin came across her face. She bit her bottom lip for what seemed like an eternity before she spoke. “You could help me get back at her,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Yeah, well I’m not sure what I could do, it’s not like I can tell HER mom she was being a total bitch or anything!” I laughed and Betsy laughed too, nodding her head.

“I was thinking of something a little different than Mr. John,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I just think that her meddling made me pay a price so I thought maybe I could meddle in her life a bit, you know what I mean?”

“I’m not sure I do, Ash.” I said, but that little voice in my head was getting ideas of its own. “Maybe you should just talk to her face to face and have it out with her, but she won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Oh, I know, I heard her tell my mom that she was visiting her sister tonight. That’s why I came to see you.” Betsy slid off the counter and took a couple steps closer to me. “I have seen the way you look at me when I’m out back tanning Mr. John.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said in a very non-convincing fashion as she closed the distance between us.

“It’s ok, I have to admit I’m flattered that a man like you even notices me at all.”

“Yeah right, you are a beautiful girl Betsy and you have to know that. Any guy in the world would be crazy not to notice you.” I was overcompensating now and she knew it.

“So, you admit that you DO look at me,” she smiled a sweet, innocent smile that said “gotcha.”

I stuttered trying to find the right words to say. “I’m not sure what this has to do with helping you, Betsy.”

“It’s pretty simple Mr. John,” she said, now standing right in front of me. Her blue eyes were staring up into my eyes as she bit her bottom lip and chose her words carefully. “She took something from me, I want something of hers.”

“What do you want, Ash?”

“I want you,” she said with a little trepidation in her voice. She quickly rallied and added with an amazing amount of confidence “but, the first time has to be on her side of your bed.”

There was no denying what this teenage beauty had just said, she wanted me to take her upstairs and fuck her on my wife’s side of the bed. I’m pretty sure whatever look I had on my face at the time was somewhat amusing because even though the words were simple they were somehow just not computing in my mind.

“You’ve never thought about fucking me Mr. John?” she asked, her eyes sparkling as she realized she had gotten over the hard part of broaching the subject and was going to do whatever it took now to complete her mission.

“Betsy, you literally JUST turned eighteen, how could I have?” I muttered and started blushing.

“Ooh, you were imagining fucking me when I was still jailbait, weren’t you Mr. John? That is SO naughty.” I tried to answer, but couldn’t, not sure what to say. “How old was I when you first thought about fucking me? Seventeen? Sixteen? Younger?”

I stood there speechless, and she didn’t wait for an answer this time; she was already making her way out of the kitchen and up the staircase. “Don’t make me wait too long,” she yelled as she made her way down the hallway and into the master bedroom.

My head was spinning; sure, I had wanted to fuck this hot little piece of ass for more time than I’d care to admit but I was still a married man who had never crossed that line before. I did my best to avoid temptation and to keep myself out of situations I knew I wouldn’t know how to properly navigate, like having an amazingly sexy eighteen year old girl waiting for me in my bedroom to launch some crazy plan to get back at my wife for being a bitch.

I walked up the stairs, telling myself with each step I took that I just needed to let her down easy and tell her that I could not do what she wanted me to do. But, my resolve disappeared when I hit the doorway to my bedroom. Betsy was lying across my bed, smiling up at me. Her arm was propping her head up and her blonde hair flowed down. “Come here,” she said as she got on her knees on the bed, “I want you now.”

I walked to her, unable to speak. She reached out and grabbed my belt, undoing it as she looked up at me with a very wicked grin on her very pretty face. My cock was now straining to be free of my jeans and boxer shorts. She unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and slid her hand inside, smiling wide as her hand found my eight inch throbbing cock waiting for her. “Fuck,” she moaned, “this is going to be more fun than I thought.”

“I don’t know, Betsy, this is wrong,” I spoke the words with no conviction at all in my voice and Betsy knew it.

“I know it’s wrong Mr. John, that’s why it’s going to be so much fun!” she giggled.

Betsy got her revenge in style will continue in the next page.

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