Throughout all of my adventures, I'd been having occasional indiscretions with Dick. The appeal of being the other woman and making him be unfaithful to his girl was too much to resist. However, when he got married, his answer to me as to why he was tying the knot was, "So I'll be faithful". For some reason I found his marriage more of a challenge than a wound. The fact that he sort of dared me to prove him wrong on the fidelity front said to my mind that he wasn't truly serious about the girl; people in love don't really think about other people, much less sleep around. So if he was in love with his stupid little girl, he wouldn't have to marry her to resist the temptation of being with me, the in-love-ness would have taken care of it.
Honestly, I had evilly planned to seduce him, slowly but surely, and make sure that Tatum found out. But the way it happened was amazingly easy . . .
It was nine days into his marriage. I'd spent a wild weekend but a miserable, miserable week thinking about nothing else but Dick's leaving me for the little bitch. Dick had been calling me a couple days, finally, after completely ignoring me, and had seemed as though he wanted to talk to me, but I'd been short with him because I was miserable. I'd been so miserable, in fact, that I'd decided on a stupid course of action; find myself a man who would be my boyfriend and keep me away from Dick for a while. And while I was at it, i figured, I'd choose the one person guaranteed to hurt Dick as much as I'd been hurting; one of his closest friends, Larry.
Larry is neither good looking nor rich. Which made him perfect for my needs; desperate to have me and willing to build me a pedestal upon which to revolve. I let him take me out on Friday night and then called him over to my house on Sunday afternoon for a movie and . . . you get the picture.
We're starting up the movie, making small talk, with him complimenting me and reassuring himself that I really wanted him there. (Insecure men are so easy.) Dick calls and asks me for some smoke. I rudely tell him to go fuck himself. He proceeds to start blowing up my phone, so I turn it off. What I don't know at this point is that his cousin has driven by my house, called Dick and described Larry's vehicle in my driveway. Which was the reason for the phone explosion. Larry and I finally get around to fooling around - he's absolutely awful, like some sort of deranged lizard - with my pants unbuttoned and my hair disheveled, when lo and behold, knock knock there at my door stands Dick. Larry, feeling chagrined and not sure whether Dick's there to start shit, sits nervously in my living room while the next takes place:
In my house, the laundry room is what you first enter from my "front door" from the way the house is situated. So there's a small room that you can't see from the rest of the house, and my door opens outward, so from the driveway you can't see someone standing directly outside of my door. I open the door, Dick gets right where his wife, who's in the car, can't see him, and looks at me all dishevelled - and tears start streaming down his face. "Why him?" he asks, shaking his head.
Well, my best laid plans for revenge were working, but I seemed to be more hurt by it than I originally thought. I knew sex with Larry would be awful and so not worth it. Here stood the best lay of my life, whom I was still in love with, crying on my doorstep. I sighed heavily.
"We haven't done anything yet. We were getting there."
"Yeah, right. why Wouldn't you have done anything?" he asked petulantly.
"Because . . . he's horrible." I confessed with my eyes rolling at myself.
"Why's he so horrible?" Dick asked, still seeming broken up.
"Because . . . he's not you." I glared at him, knowing that would bolster his spirits. He straightens up a bit and reaches for me - I back up a step, knowing his girl's in the driveway.
"Come here, I'll help you." He says, his hand outstretched towards my waist. My morals battle for about a half second, and, as always, err on the side of what's going to get me an orgasm. I step forward.
Dick reaches under my shorts and touches me in a way only known to him, and I cum in a puddle all over my entry way.
"GOD, that's hot." he groans. I lean my forehead on my doorway and ask him why.
"Because I can't help myself." he confesses, and sends me over the edge again.
"Go!!" I tell him, after coming back to myself again, and he says, "Get rid of him."
"Why???"
"You can come get me at David's. Get rid of him. Don't do this with him. He isn't me."
Damn, but I hate it when a man's right. It happens so infrequently . . .
Dick leaves, I shoo Larry out the door with the admonishment that "I'm not ready, there's too much drama here . . ." and Dick does indeed call as soon as Larry's leaving . . .
"Come get your man." he states.
I fly over to David's - he's walked up the street some, leaving his wife at her friend Daniel's house and his wedding ring in her car after picking some sort of fight in the car ride over. Dick comes home with me, swearing it's over with her, he's mine, he wants his family back, etc. - and of course we spend two hours fucking like wild rabbits on ecstasy.
When the lust was slaked for both of us, he turned his phone back on. the whole time I fully expected his wife to be pounding on my door at any moment, but apparently she hasn't the balls. But the moment he listened to her messages and read her texts, his demeanor changed and suddenly he decided to have her come get him. Of course I flipped out - it's one thing to tell me "I want to fuck you real quick" and quite another to say to someone, "I want to be with you again" and THEN change your mind. I completely lost it for a minute or two. Halfway through my hysteria, though, I realized my tears were not actually being cried. My face was scrunched up, but I'd been expecting this. i took a step back, breathed deep, thought for a half second and said,
"Wait. I'm ok. Just . . . when can we fuck again?"
He burst out laughing and said, "Is that your only concern?" and laughed some more. After he promised to try and get away sometime that week, I got in the shower and composed myself while he gathered his stuff. When I got out, a devilish, purely evil grin came over my face as I got mostly dressed. I put on a crop top white tshirt that came barely below my breasts and a pair of white lace spanky underwear that showed off my ass to its best proportions. Dick sees me, slaps my ass and asks what's so funny. "Nothing, " I answer, still with my Cheshire cat grin on, as I had formed a dastardly plan and I couldn't believe my own genius.
Dick had told Tatum that he was at my house talking. TALKING. He gathers his shit and walks out as she pulls in the driveway. I'm standing in my doorway, holding the door open. He gets off the porch into the grass, glancing back with a half grin of his own at my attire. Just as I open my mouth to call out, he turns back and asks for me to throw the sunglasses on the dryer to him. My evil grin returns tenfold as I grab the glasses.
"Oh yeah - want to know what's so funny?" I call out.
"What's that?" He calls back, cupping his hands for me to throw the shades.
"This." I call back . . .
In my barely-there shirt and my sexy-ass panties, I stroll out of my house, down the steps and around to where he's standing, now with the most shocked and deer-in-headlights look I've ever seen on a man. I hand the glasses to him, take a step backward, blow him a kiss, glance at the car to see that yes, Tatum is indeed watching with mouth agape, turn around . . .
and I slap my barely-covered ass as I saunter back into my house and slam the door with the same satisfied, sexy and EVIL grin on.
I was on a natural high for three days, so very very proud of myself for my forethought and for having the balls to carry out such a thing. I'll bet he had fun explaining THAT one to his little wife - who of course in her stupidity still allowed Dick to get in her car and go home with her.
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