<You could be typing while you speak since it's meant to be an email, but that's completely up to the performer>

The scent of my perfume still lingers on your skin. You once told me it was sweet and intoxicating. But now I know you can't wait to jump in the shower and wash it away before you go and see her. It's funny to me that you think I don't notice. Of course I notice. We've lived together for 5 years. I know your routine, I know you habits, I know your moods.

When the "business" trips started I was happy. I thought finally you were going somewhere with that company. Finally you were starting to take things seriously and not want to be stuck at entry level your whole life. I was excited for you. I helped you pack, helped you buy new suits out of out meagre savings. I stayed home, alone, even when you knew I was scared.

I assumed all the extra time you spent with your phone in your hand was business related. But looking back now, who the hell smiles like that at business emails? I may have been naïve, but I'm not stupid. Far from it. I knew. And you made me feel worthless.

When the phone rang one day and I happened to be home, I was surprised to hear a very angry man on the other line. He had all kinds of questions about you... and his wife. I guess he wasn't expecting that I'd want to talk to him further about what was going on.

We met for coffee in the city, far from our regular places that we frequented. He was slightly older, but very good looking and confident. He carried a briefcase and looked very professional. We said our hellos and ordered our drinks. I couldn't stomach anything to eat that day, I was a bundle of nerves.

I started the conversation asking if he was sure about his claims, still grasping the last little bits of hope I had that he was wrong, that he called the wrong number, that it wasn't you. But as he opened his briefcase and handed me a photo, my heart sank. It was you. With your arm around a pretty blonde woman who looked about 21. The next one he passed me was the two of you entering a hotel room. He continued to pass me photo after photo, different occasions of the two of you together. I felt sick. All my fear were confirmed.

I sat, silent for a while. Not really knowing what my reaction should be. I was completely out of control of this situation and I had no clue how to proceed. I looked up at him and said what do I do? He told me to keep the photos, that he had many copies and suggested that I either get mad or get even.

I left in a hurry. Not wanting a stranger to see me break down. At home I spread the photos out around me and studied you. I think that's when I started to hate you. I hated you for lying. I hated you for sleeping with her. I hated you for being so cowardly. I hated you. But I was calm. I didn't know how, but I wasn't screaming and throwing your stuff out of the house causing a big scene for the neighbours.

I considered the words of that woman's husband. Get mad or get even. And that night when you told me that you'd be away next weekend, a plan formed in my mind. I wanted to get even. But I needed help. So I called him, the only other person who knew about your sordid affair. He said that he hadn't confronted his wife yet and I asked him if we could meet up again. He laughed when he told me that he happened to have the next weekend free. What a coincidence I said, so do I.

That week passed quickly and soon I was saying good bye to you on Friday morning. You kissed my cheek and I smiled at you but on the inside I was cringing. That night I drove out to an expensive looking neighbourhood. I re-checked the address that he had given me and drove slowly down the street looking for the driveway.

Their house was huge. But I guess the saying money can't buy happiness is true after all. I parked my car and walked up the front door, rang the door bell and waited. I'd dressed nicely, for which I was glad. If my plan was going to work, he needed to find me attractive.

He answered the door looking as handsome as I'd remembered. A quick hello and he invited me in. I commented on his lovely home and he waved away the compliment saying that he didn't have much to do with the decorating, he just made the money. He offered wine and I accepted. Glad to have a small distraction. He leaned against the counter in a spacious kitchen. I think I know why you are here, he said.

I swallowed my wine in an unladylike gulp and stared at him. You want revenge, don't you. He said with a gleam in his dark eyes. Yes. I answered. I want them to feel what we felt. I want them to hurt. And what better way then to do to them what they did to us. I agree, he said taking a step towards me.

His large hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer. Are you sure, he asked. My yes was muffled as his lips pressed to mine, hard. A little shock coursed through me, but I was soon caught up in the moment with him. My god could that man kiss. Months of pent up sexual frustration at the hands of our cheating partners came pouring out. Our kiss turned primal, on the verge of animalistic. Every time I came up for air, he pulled me back to him.

Clothes were shed, hot skin came in contact with hot skin. Breathless panting and quiet moans were the sounds of our frenzied rush to see each other naked. He was magnificent and strong. He could pick me up and throw me around like a doll. We didn't even make it upstairs to his bedroom. He fucked me right there on the kitchen counter. His cock filled me like yours never could. A fleeting thought came into my head as I was being pounded like all those times I'd begged you to do. What was his wife thinking? Leaving this for you.

So, I got to spend my own weekend away. And it was one I'll never forget. Especially since we'll probably be doing the same thing next weekend and the weekend after that. You see me and him, we have amazing chemistry. Like you wouldn't believe. He satisfies me like you never could. I guess I should thank you.

Any way. Just wanted to send you this email to let you know that you can get your stuff out of the house this weekend. I won't be home so we can avoid any uncomfortableness of bumping into each other. I don't care where you go, you and her can work that out. Just don't contact me. Enjoy your broke little whore. And I mean broke, thank goodness for pre-nups. I guess your "business trips" will have to stop now won't they.

Yours FAITHFULLY