13. The Bitch

THE BITCH

The more I sat there waiting, the more enraged I became; I was seething when I recalled all that had happened in the last few months. After the trespass, things just kept going downhill more and more. Once I learned about their affair, though, is when things really started coming undone.

I couldn’t believe he was cheating on me or that I didn’t see it coming. Sure, he’d been acting strange when it came to her and the kids, but I thought that was only normal since they’d been together for so long, and it would take some time to get used to the new changes in his life.

I started stalking her social media even harder once I was no longer allowed to go for pickups because she’d gone from barely posting to posting almost daily, which was good for me because I got to keep tabs on her that way.

There was nothing about the two of them, just a lot of shit about him spending time with their brats, but I noticed more and more that I couldn’t reach him when he went to pick the kids up, and he was taking longer and longer to boot to get back to me.

Then she started answering his phone and texts, giving me bullshit excuses about him spending time with the kids. I was a fool; I should’ve put my foot down and made him do something, should’ve made it so that she never saw him alone again, but I thought because we were still having intimacy, that things were still working in my favor.

And then he stopped. It was like a switch was turned, and he became a different person. He didn’t invite me over, there were no more floral deliveries to my place every Thursday like I’d demanded and a whole lot more seemed to just change overnight.

The worst part was the end of our sex life. It was the only power I had over him, after all, but he just stopped even touching me in passing, which made me lash out at him in anger. The fights we had were ones that I used to imagine them having when she found out about us.

I felt gutted, deranged even each time he had to see her, that’s why I’d thrown caution to the wind and started driving by his place while he was there for pickup. I don’t know how many times I wanted to go knock on her door and drag him out of there, law or no law.

Then, that day, while listening from outside of his office door, my suspicions were confirmed, and I felt as if my life was over. That smug look she gave me that day haunted my nights to the point I wanted to kill her. I never felt so much humiliation as I did that following week when all anyone in the office would talk about was how great it was that they were back together.

I’d ignored the fact that most of my coworkers knew her from those parties at their home that came to an end after the divorce. I’d forgotten that most of them liked her, so when I first started hearing the whispers, it was a shock.

I had literally overlooked them as humans because they played no part in my plans and were insignificant to me. But that first week, I realized they hated me, had hated me all along for bringing up that perfect marriage. They were all acting like those college bitches in their cliques.

Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. I didn’t get what I wanted out of her the first time. Maybe this time I will when I snatch him again. Maybe she was weaving dreams of mending her broken family, her tormented life. It would be even sweeter this time because I knew more about her and had more interactions, so it would be easier to imagine her stupid face while I fucked him and took him away for the second time.

That could’ve worked, too, if he’d ever given me the chance. But when I confronted him about the affair, he didn’t even have the grace to lie or try to explain and apologize. He looked me in the fucking face and told me he wanted her back. That he missed his family and we were a mistake.

This motherfucker had the nerve to tell me that she was the love of his life and that he’d spend the rest of his life making this up to her and his kids. But what about me? I asked. And he just shrugged. Just shrugged like the last three years of my life were nothing. Like all the hard work I put into this, it was in vain.

I would’ve cut his eyes out that night, but he was gone before I could do anything or say anything more. I remember screaming loud enough for the neighbor to knock on my wall and tell me to knock it off. That’s when I realized that I was alone, that I had no one to turn to.

I had no friends from my past. Not the earlier years or the years in college. The people I had made associations with at the job had turned their backs to me after the affair came to light. I hadn’t spoken to my parents in years, hadn’t even thought of them really. Not that they would be of any help.

I think that’s when I went off the rails. It was either that or her answering his texts. What was she doing with his phone? Then I ran into her; well, I had been following her since she left her house, something I had been doing every single night since I learned that they were fucking.

I had so many images of me burning the house down with her and the kids in it, cutting the breaks on her car, anything and everything that would get her, and, if I’m lucky, her brats out of my life.

Then I saw his car coming and followed. Waiting outside her house, watching through the window as they put their kids to bed together after dinner, looking like a true family and that bitch sitting at the head of my table.

The more I saw, the more incensed I became. I couldn’t understand why or how my foolproof plan was falling apart. I’d done everything the same only with some more mature elements added in for safe measure.

When I sucked his cock I made sure to look into his eyes. When I let him fuck me, I remembered to tell him how thick and deep he was, though, with him, it wasn’t a lie. He had the loveliest dick I’d ever had the pleasure of fucking.

I’d gone from playing him to genuinely enjoying our time together. The first night we fucked, I acted like an inexperienced rube because I got that vibe from him that he was into that stupid shit. Who cares if a woman is pure or not? As long as she knew how to fuck, who cares? And I knew all there was to know about fucking. I’d read almost every manual ever written on the subject, most of them from authors closer to the Orient.

I knew how to trap a man with my sex because I’d had lots of practice. That first night, I let him take the lead, and maybe that’s where I went wrong. I’ve always been the one in charge of my other conquests, but letting him take the lead had proven to be more dangerous than I thought it could be.

I forgot most of the time to act because I really did feel like a novice with him. The things he did got to me in ways I never felt, and before long, I was getting way more involved, putting more of my real self in the game that I intended. By the time I realized I was in love with him, it was too late.

It wasn’t just his cock or his money that I was in love with either; it was just everything about him. Before, it was awesome that he was so handsome and well-built. It was a thing of pride for me each time we were out together somewhere. I enjoyed the envious looks of the women around us because, in my mind, I was still the ugly little girl that everyone looked over.

Sometimes, I forget that this wasn’t my original face or my real body. I got lost in the way he paid homage to my tits, those glorious things that had caught him in the first place. I had to attract him in some way to get him into my pussy trap, which was bound to do the rest.

Those first few times we met in hotel rooms after sneaking away from the job were like magic. I came hard and long on his cock without having to take myself away somewhere in my head. His tongue used to make me cream so that by the time he slid his cock in me, I was dripping wet.

The fuck itself was superb, but it was thoughts of his poor washed-up wife at home taking care of this man’s kids and home while he was busy fucking hot young pussy around the corner from his job. And those nights he’d fuck me on his desk, I’d cum hard at the thought of her home waiting with a stomach full of worry because he was hours late getting home. That was the power of my pussy. I could get a once stalwart family man to say fuck it to dinner with the wife and kids for some tight new pussy.

The high I got from that was not to be believed because I had seen her in person by then. I bet she never had to pay to have her nose done or her eyes tucked so that the permanent bags she’d had since childhood went away. Or had to have her chest filled with a life-threatening substance just so she could get a chance at landing a decent man or at least one worth having.

So, knowing that with all her perfections, I had still stolen her man made sex that much more intense for me. I rode that high for the longest time, looking forward to her spiraling and becoming a shell of who she once was, never to recover again. I know for a fact that every woman whose man I took will spend the rest of her life worrying about it happening to her again, and that was the best high of all.

But now things had changed. Now, I was the one on the downward slope without brakes. I was the one stalking her and them together, something she never did. I was the one making phone calls and stalking her social media every day. I was the one pacing the floor at night, biting my nails down to nubs with stomach pains that stemmed from fear.

Fear that I was going to lose to her. Fear that the dreams I had woven in my head weren’t going to become reality. I was terrified that I had fallen in love for the first time and was going to lose my lover.

Too many things came too late, and I was left holding nothing at all. It made me crazy I admit, that night that I’d spied on them over the fence. This was long after he’d admitted to wanting her back, but I’d still held out hope that I could turn things around.

I would’ve done anything, promised everything, and still, it wasn’t enough. All he wanted was her and their kids. To rebuild the life they once had and he didn’t even have the decency to hide it from me. He’d hidden me from her. Hidden me like some dirty little secret he had to keep away from his perfect, unsullied life.

I guess he was right on that score because they’d all dropped his like a hot potato the whole sanctimonious lot of them, including his parents and hers. None of their mutual friends agreed with him or wanted anything to do with our relationship; they chose his side.

But I knew from the research I did that this never lasts. That eventually, everyone would come around and forget the whole thing. But that never happened for us. Is that why he’d gone back? Because he had been isolated and ostracized from everyone he knew.

We couldn’t even go to his usual haunts because that’s where he went with her, and they might run into someone he knew. We had to go out of the city to find somewhere decent to have a meal because our smallish town was too close for comfort for him.

But that was part of my ammo, rubbing it in the other woman’s face. How was I to do that if he wouldn’t even be seen with me in public? And then, even after it all came out with the bath water, he still treated me like a dirty little secret. Why didn’t I see it before it was too late?

Beyond the sex, we no longer seemed to have anything in common. One of the things he’d complained about was going home to a noisy house overrun with kids and the stress it brought after a long day at work, so I knew the last thing he wanted was to discuss the stress of the job with me after hours, but that was the only thing we had in common.

I’d learned all of his likes and dislikes, but apparently, he’d done them all with her, and it made him feel a certain way to do them with anyone else. I should’ve known then that his weak ass was still in love with her, but that wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?

All the others proclaimed love for their girlfriends or fiancées, but that didn’t stop them from fucking me. But with him, it seemed different, it seemed…real. Like he really did love her at some point. So what the hell was he doing fucking me?

It wasn’t long after that he told me that I was just a release he needed, that to him, I wasn’t really a whole person; I was nothing more than a hand he would’ve used to jerk off. He didn’t say it in so many words, but that is what it boiled down to.

I couldn’t believe this fucker looked me in the eye and told me this shit. He had the nerve to thank me for showing him what he was missing and went so far as to wish me luck with the rest of my life. Who the fuck does he think he is?

It was all of that and more that had sent me to the back of her property that night. I’m not sure what I was going to do that night. I’d been sitting down the street from her house with an eye on the place when I saw the kids being picked up by their grandparents.

I expected him to leave then, but he didn’t; he stayed in there with her and that made me sick to my stomach. So sick I had to open the car door and throw up. I was mad and had lost my mind for a minute, which is what I tried telling the stupid lawyer and judge later.

It had to be that because why else would I have gone onto her property knowing that I’d be in trouble if caught? Because I didn’t think I would get caught. I had never been before. She would’ve said something if she knew I was driving by her place and Justin never mentioned it.

I think the shock of seeing them together, the way he was so different with her. He touched her like she was the most precious thing in his world, whispered in her ear the way he never did with me. Her cries of pleasure, why did they sound so intimate? Like to long-lost lovers who knew everything about each other and just where and how to touch, they moved together right in front of me, and it was too much.

Maybe that’s when I gave myself away, I must’ve made some sound or the other. But I was almost certain that she’d looked right at me as if she knew I was there, even though the Tiki lights she’d lit didn’t reach the far corner of the fence where I stood on the stone I’d dragged there.

I still thought all was well, that there was no way she had seen me, but that was until the next day when I was arrested at work, no less, and taken to the precinct for breaching the terms of the trespass.

Everything went to hell after that. I lost my job because of the arrest and the impending case. News spread like wildfire and I still don’t know how that happened. But even after the case where I only got community service and a fine, I didn’t give up on the two of us getting back together.

I’d put too much work into the relationship and stood to lose too much if I gave up now. So I amped up the phone calls and texts, only for him to give me the brush-off. I staked out his apartment only to learn that he was hardly ever there because he had practically moved back in with her.

I couldn’t go to the job either. The last time I tried, the security guard who used to flirt with me looked at me like I was a stranger and threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t leave. I couldn’t fight for my job on the grounds that there was a clause in my contract that stated arrest with reason enough for immediate termination.

I was going to be out of money soon. I could no longer afford the high-rise apartment I had to rent to keep up appearances. I’d stopped saving once I trapped Justin in my web and was only waiting days to move into his place where I wouldn’t have even the burden of rent on my shoulders.

All of my money went to buying new clothes and all those things that make a girl pretty and desirable. I figured since he’d spent so much money on her in the divorce, he would be doing the same for me. I was sure that he was so hooked on my pussy that he would do anything to keep coming back for more, so I didn’t take the usual precautions.

Now, I wish that I had poked holes in his condoms or done something, anything, to be able to stay in his life. If I had his kid, I’d be sitting pretty if he ever left me and had to pay child support. She was getting more than five grand for each kid, plus her alimony was almost three times that amount.

With that kind of money, she could’ve stayed home every day like she was accustomed to, but instead, she had to go get a job, which only made Justin praise her even more, when we were still together and which led to them sneaking around in the afternoons to have sex the way we did.

After the case was settled, I told myself to leave well enough alone. I ended up having to move back in with my parents, who lived about forty-five minutes away, but it was better than having to get on a plane.

They hadn’t asked too many questions because they were just so happy that I was back in their lives and, from the looks of it, doing well. I told them a story about the company downsizing and me deciding to take a break and spend some time with them before looking for another job.

I know my past conduct will be disposed, and given the nature of my work, word spreads, and the community is pretty tight-knit, so the chances of me finding a job in my field anywhere within a five-hour radius are pretty slim.

I sold most of my things to get some ready cash, and of course, I had my credit cards, so I was able to keep up appearances. I spent those first couple of weeks stalking both Callie and Justin. First their socials and then in person. I couldn’t help it; I had to see what was going on with my eyes.

It was obvious they were back together, but the first I knew that she was aware that I was following her on social media was when she reposted something I had posted. The nasty people from my old job, the ones that were following me at least, all made snarky comments when I complained in what was supposed to be a private group about her old, used-up ass trying to steal my man.

If this was happening to someone else I would’ve found it very funny, but being at the wrong end of this farce is in no way a laughing matter. Each day felt more and more like hell, and then my parents started bugging me about looking for a job, which worked to some extent because now I could spend my days outside her house while pretending to be working.

I lost time as days ran together, and I didn’t know some days what was day and what was night. And always, there were the social media posts. The day she announced her pregnancy was one of the hardest days of my life. I can still remember the numbness that overcame me, the sense of dread, and that horrible screaming in the confines of my car.