Cheating on You With a 'Co-Worker'
Have I ever told you that I cum hardest to your hatred? That I love twisting your heart and tearing it into shreds? That I love lying to you everyday, telling you that I was at work late. You’re not dumb. No, you’re actually quite smart. You’d smell the perfume on me instantly. You’d notice the payments to various hotels and motels from our joint bank account.
“A co-worker’s coming over for dinner,” I would say softly, watching your body freeze. You would know already. You wouldn’t even need to ask to know it’s a woman. A woman with a hotter, sluttier body than you could ever dream of having. You’re smart but I’ve ripped the spine out of you, lie by lie, until you can only convince yourself I’m loyal. That I’m not spending everyday and night away from you drowning my cock in the warm holes of some whore. Some girl that I shower with more affection than I’ll ever show you. I’d smile. “No, don’t wear a dress. You’d look ugly in one.”
Dinner would pass by with flirtatious giggles and smirks being thrown around blatantly across the table. You’d sit there, ignored, with your head looking down at your food. Possibly to hide your teary eyes. She and I would be all the better for it. You’d ruin the mood. We’d snap our fingers at you, having you bring us water and spices, and whatever else we wanted to torment you with.
And finally we’d retire to my office. I’d sweetly tell you to put on some music and read a book or something. And you’d do it. Not to obey me, but to mask the loud, passionate moaning that comes from behind the door. You’d hear us, even through the doors. You’d hear me groan louder with her than I’d ever with you. And still, you’d do nothing, pathetic fucking cuck that you are. And the worst part? The pack of condoms I’d leave out would be unopened. Unused. Just like you.
You’d feel depression and wrath tangle with each other, breaking you, grinding down your sanity, until you’ve accepted it. That you really are a spineless fucking loser. It’d be okay to cry at that point. I’d hope that you do. Loudly. Hearing your misery would turn us both on. I’d fuck her against the door, roughly spreading her holes on my cock while she moans as loud as she can, knowing you’ll hear it. Knowing it’ll only make it hurt worse for you.