11. The Bitch

THE BITCH

Imust’ve driven by their house five times before realizing that there was no one home. The posts said they would be back today, so why was there no movement behind the windows? I knew the outside lights were those timer things that came on at a certain time and his car was still not there, so where was he?

My friends keep telling me that it’s over, that I should move on before things go too far with his ex, but as far as I’m concerned, I won him once, and I can win him again. I just need to get close to him, but how?

I no longer work for the same company; we’re not part of the same friend circle because they all rejected me and chose her in the divorce, and the only places I know he hangs out are places I chose in the past. I have no idea where he liked to hang out before we started our affair because he was always afraid of being caught.

I wish I had paid more attention, had asked more questions and at the very least insisted on frequenting the same places he went to with her, but I thought I had all the time in the world for that. I bought into all the promises he made to me, and now look at where that has gotten me.

I don’t even know where things went wrong. I had it all worked out from the moment I decided to go after him. He wasn’t the first fish I’d hooked away from another woman, but he was the biggest one thus far and I had put my all, exhausted every effort to get him.

It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I think he was genuinely still in love with her, but that was no deterrent. I wasn’t interested in his heart as much as his wallet back then, but that changed with time, starting with the first time we had sex.

Before, I was always able to hold part of myself back with men. I’d seen enough in my parents’ marriage with cheating on both sides to know that giving my heart to a man would be a fatal mistake, so from a very young age, about the time I started dating, I knew how to look out for myself regardless of anyone else’s feelings.

It cost me quite a few boyfriends in the beginning because once they realized that all I wanted from them was what they could give me, they seemed to find fault with that. By the time I was seventeen, I’d learned to hone my skills a bit and was better at hiding my true feelings, but it wasn’t until I stole my roommate’s boyfriend during my second year in college that I realized the thrill of taking something that’s not mine. She was a bitch to me anyway and deserved it. And so was every other woman whose husband I stole.

None of them would’ve given me the time of day; they all thought they were better than me because of my background and lack of wealth. You see, I’d studied hard because I realized that if I wanted to move in bigger and better circles, I needed a foot in the door, and that started with college.

I got into one of the best with my brain alone because there was no way my broke-ass parents could afford it, but that was just the beginning. My looks weren’t the best I knew; my teeth needed fixing because of neglect, and there were marks on my face from teenage acne. Not to mention, my breasts were almost nonexistent.

Still, even then, I had a way about me with men. Some people call it being easy, but I don’t see it that way. I realized that I could pull the hottest guys in high school because I put out when the other stuck-up girls wouldn’t, and even though they wouldn’t be caught dead with me in public, I still got what I wanted out of them.

I always knew what I needed to do to get ahead in life and I worked hard towards it. As soon as I got into my dream college, I put my past behind me, including my parents and the little bit of family I had back home. I didn’t cut ties with my parents completely because you never know what you may need in the future, but I went very low contact, using my studies as an excuse.

This way, when asked, I had an excuse for why they were never around. I kept my head down that first year and used my smarts to make money with online tutoring, which brought me a hefty sum. The first thing I did was get my teeth fixed, which cost a lot but was worth it.

At the same time, I worked with a skincare specialist to clean up the marks on my face, and the last thing I did that year, my holiday gift to myself, got a new pair of tits. I wasn’t done there, though, but the last bit was the most expensive thus far and would take time to heal, so I chose my first spring break to get it done.

By the time I came back to school the following year, I looked like a different person. Since I’d kept myself isolated that first year, the people I met this time around were practically strangers. I did see the few people I had known that first year but since we were never friends, it wasn’t like they knew what I looked like anyway. Besides, the changes weren’t outlandish; I still looked like myself, but with a few minor changes that made a big difference.

That was the year I met Casey. Casey was this rich snob of a bitch who thought her shit didn’t stink. Every gesture seemed fake to me. Like when I told her I didn’t have plans for winter break and, she invited me to go skiing with her family. Why would she do that? She didn’t even know me. So, of course, I didn’t trust it.

Or the way she was always giving me her unwanted clothes. Granted, most of them still had the tags on them, but I didn’t want it getting around that I was wearing her shit. Most of my clothes came from high-end thrift stores because I always knew even before I came here that if I wanted to fit in, I’d have to look the part, and since I couldn’t really afford it even with my well-paying tutoring gig, I’d searched out the best online consignment shops.

I’m not sure if she knew or if she caught on the third or fourth time I came up with an excuse as to why my parents never came around the way hers and many others did, but she started to change after that. It started out slow at first, with her offering to pay for lunch when we went out. The only reason I went out with her was to get access to her friends, and I always made sure I had enough money on me to cover my meal and one other if it came to that.

Then she started acting as if I were a charity case, offering me all kinds of things without coming right out and saying she thought I was beneath her. Her boyfriend wasn’t much to look at but he came from one of those families that everybody knows their name.

He was a geek who was more interested in outer space or whatever, but she was wild for him, which made no sense because she was a very beautiful girl. It wasn’t easy getting him to cheat either, but I’d had years of practice under my belt by then, and within weeks of making my first move, she walked in to find him fucking me hard on her bed in our dorm room.

I’ll never forget the look on her face or the way I came harder than ever before that day. It didn’t matter then that he dumped me right after; I didn’t want him anyway. I just wanted to prove to her that I could take him and to myself, too, I guess.

I used that as my stepping stone, so to speak, and by the third time I moved in on someone else’s man, I was almost an expert. I’d learned how to look for the signs and read them well. Some men laughed in my face and went home to their wives, but most got caught up on my tits, and reeling them in was easy after that.

Justin wasn’t easy, but that just made the chase all the more interesting. I had to try something new with him; I took on the role of friend, an ear to listen when he wanted to gripe or complain about anything.

It started with work related issues when we were working on projects together, which I worked very hard to make happen, but soon I was asking about his life at home, and he didn’t see a problem sharing. A man in his thirties, tired from raising kids, was easy to get to open up.

I learned everything I could about him and their relationship, but I missed a step here, so let’s go back to the beginning. I found him extremely attractive the first time we met, which was months after I first started working there. But it wasn’t until my first party at his home that I met his wife and saw their beautiful home.

All evening, while everyone else was networking, I was weaving dreams in my head about the life they must live in that big, beautiful mansion in the ritzy part of town. The oversized portrait of their family that hung over the mantle in their living room had everyone talking, and when I asked, the women who knew her had nothing but good things to say. Everyone talked about how amazing their family was, and for some reason, that irked me.

The seed was planted, and it was then that I did everything in my power to get close to him on the job. That chance came a few months later, and I knew, as hot as I was to get him into my bed, I had to take it slow. Like I said, it was obvious that he still loved her. I’d seen it the few times I was in their presence together, the way he still looked at her. I wanted that. Wanted his eyes to look at me that way.

I talked about myself a lot but made it seem offhanded as if I was just shooting the breeze or passing time. I made myself seem as exciting and free-spirited as possible. To a man whose wife was a SAHM and had made her life all about her kids and family life, I knew he would find my weekend adventures intoxicating.

When I invited him to go hiking that first time it was just as friends, or so he thought. But I was sure to be as engaging as possible without being too obvious. The tank top I wore wasn’t too revealing, but it hugged my tits just right to be in his face at every opportunity.

When I bent over to redo my lace that had come undone, I made sure to show my ass in its best light. After that, it was just a matter of time before I was touching him here and there, innocently of course, while we worked on something together.

Our weekends together grew more frequent, and it wasn’t long before I felt the shift. I knew it when I called him late one night crying about some made-up shit that I don’t even remember, and he came running; he’d left his marriage bed to come to me, and I knew then that I had him.

My excitement was hard to contain because by then, I had made up my mind that if I hooked this big fish, the biggest so far, that I was going to go all the way. I wasn’t interested in a few expensive dinners or weekend getaways. I wanted it all. That house, that life. The fact that he’s the best lover I’ve ever had only made it more appealing to shoot for the stars.