The Sweet Stench Of Revenge — Part 3.

Find Part 1 here — https://fionadobson22.medium.com/the-sweet-stench-of-revenge-part-1-65e61f065bcf

I was sitting in the hotel bar with Dillon McKlusky. He droolled and simpered over me, and his two friends sat at the bar watching from a distance. His eyes were all over my breasts, and as fast as he talked, I could see him devouring my body.

I am lucky. Few men would pass over me, given the opportunity. I have been blessed with soft and gentle features, even though I am a very convincing crossdresser. No one would realise I am not female, unless they were in the most intimate of engagements with me. As it was, McKlusky had no idea that he was endeavoring to get into the panties of the same little boy he had so humiliated as a child.

The conversation ebbed and flowed. I am sure you know the sort of thing. He told me he’d recently run a half marathon. I pretended to be impressed. The usual crap.

When he went to the bathroom, the copious amounts of beer filling his bladder, he carelessly left his phone on the table. I surreptitiously pocketed it and went to the ladies.

Sitting on a toilet I opened the phone. Really, who doesn’t even have a screen password? I flipped through the contacts, and the phone log. There was one entry he called at shortly before 5. It was the same the…