“Show me,” I challenge.
Danika slides down my body, dropping her knees to the floor. Licking her lips, she shoots me a wink then undoes the zipper of my jeans. Her fist wraps around me giving me a tug and a few strokes. I’ve never had trouble getting it up. The lips suctioning around the head of my dick may not be the ones I crave, but I dip my head back and get a grip on her hair giving into the temptation of being wanted. All Danika is right now is a warm hole to use. She could be anyone right now.
Doesn’t fucking matter. Sometimes a man just needs to feel wanted. Women aren’t the only ones who can be neglected in a relationship.
The cut chasing slut works my cock, and I imagine her mouth belongs to my woman. The only woman I truly desire. My wife. What can I say? I’m fucked in the head. I picture my gorgeous wife with her soft lips worshipping me. Paying me the attention I’ve been desperate to receive.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Attempting to block out reality. That the tongue gliding up and down the backside of my shaft belongs to a whore who will give it up to nay man with a patch on his back.
My stomach drops and the sensation of being watched pringles along my spine.
Something tells me to open my eyes and when I do all air goes out of my lungs.
My wife’s gaze locks on mine. Her words from earlier come back to me. “Fuck whoever you want.” I yank on Danika’s hair showing Pam I’m only following her orders.
A single tear slides down the woman I love’s cheek. Her face ashen as though she’s about to throw up. A quiver moves through her body. Her bottom lip trembles. She intakes a quick breath. Now she knows how I felt every time Nickle sunk his cock inside her while I watched and prayed for her miracle baby. Hoping another man could give her the one thing I’d never be able to.
Chapter Two
I stare at the clock on my cell phone. It’s past midnight. Another text—one word from my husband flashes across the screen as another tear slides down my cheek that further shatters my heart.
Link: Sorry.
I stare at the screen as the minutes tick by unable to type a response. How am I supposed to reply after what he’s done? He broke his vows. Every promise—even the ones unspoken are null. Void. Meaningless. There’s a saying that the best apology is changing your behavior, but I can’t trust him.
Not right now.
Maybe never.
I don’t know that I want to.
Another text message.
Another lie.
Link: I love you.
Three words that slice into my soul.
Love.
He loves me?
You don’t do what he did to someone you love.
Link: I miss you.
Another lie.
Another mile between us. I swipe away another tear. My anger growing with every passing second. I want to hit something. Like his face. His balls. I want to hate him. To destroy him. To cut him bone deep as he has me. I’m broken. I don’t want to be so hurt, angry, and stupid. But I am all three.
I shoot off a reply.
Pam: Like you were missing me the other night when that whore was giving you a blowjob?
How easily he forgets that I saw them. I wish I could burn the memory from my thoughts, but I can’t. I’m not built that way. God do I wish I were. Things would be much easier. To look the other way. To play pretend. To go back to way things were before he did this to me. To us.
He’s destroyed everything.