Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
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.