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You

You're not a bad person. You just want to be happy.

By CailinPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
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She pounces upon you, taking your thick locks in her supple hands. Her warm lips press against yours. They feel kinder and warmer than your wife’s, but then that could be all the alcohol fabricating false truths. You resist the urge to stop this madness and leave, salivating at the thought of having her. Her petite breasts imprison you against her, as she gently pushes you against the window, unbuttoning your shirt with the deftest of flicks.

Before you realise it, the shirt is gone, your bare chest exposed. The names of your children lay bare on your skin for your mistress to see. Her gentle hands find her way to your neck, tingles encapsulate your skin as you let out the softest of moans. Her hands dance across your chest, as she brushes both nipples, choreographed to excite and stimulate your member. Her fingertips slip your belt off with ease. You forget how experienced she is in the art of love making.

Before you can finish the thought your heavy jeans are off, and her grip has found its way along your manhood as the soft moans you make become rugged and breathless, her hands stimulating you, bringing you closer to climax. You cannot have all the fun you think, ripping her dress from her bosom, savage as a predator against its prey. Her small gasp of delight invites a wave of euphoria through you. You grab her by the throat, gentle at first as you unclasp the shackles from her breasts. They collapse to the ground; her nipples erect for you.

Your grip on her throat grows tighter, emulating her womanhood, as the rest of her dress is torn loose from her skin with your free hand. Her skin is perfect, her breasts divine and her warm cunt feels like nectar against your fingers. You throw her against the room onto the bed, your stiff manhood penetrating her in one fell swoop. She gasps, screaming your name. She digs her claws into your back, intimately extracting your lifeblood for her pleasure. You thrust rhythmically, her moist cave enticing your erect member. Your breaths quicken as she wraps her thighs around your abdomen tightly, forcing you to climax inside her. Her womanhood fills with your essence, forcing you both to gasp in unison. She releases you from her grip, allowing you to slink beside her on the bed.

You lie awake, your wife asleep next to you. You study her as she sleeps. Your wife is your age, but the lines on her face and the greys in her hair betray that. You’ve never liked how old she looks. Her breathing is shallow, a by-product of the daily cigarettes she chuffs for as long as you can remember. You hate how much she smokes. Her fingernails are bleached yellow from all the smoke, as are her teeth, though they are blackened in spots as well. You hate the discolouration. You roll over away from her, the sight of her making you nauseated. You’ve not always felt like this. You used to adore the way she looked. She used to look younger before the three children and all the stress of her job. She looked like a princess on your wedding day, but not anymore. She is now a shell of her former self. You met your mistress that day. She served you drinks at the reception, and it overshadowed the wedding. She made you feel youthful and sought again, and the way her skin glowed was enough to turn any mans head. She took an interest to you immediately. She laughed at your jokes, she wanted to understand you and asked so many questions about you it made your head spin. She even gave you her address once the party was over, even though you mentioned your wife so many times; she didn’t care. She only wanted you. You were transfixed from then, unable to relinquish her presence in your mind.

How did your life get so fucked? you think to yourself, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. You roll out of bed, checking the alarm clock your wife bought you for your third anniversary. 3:42am. You don’t sleep much anymore, not since you welcomed your mistress into your life with open arms. You reach for the phone on the bedside table and leave the room, unaware that your wife is also awake. She does not sleep much anymore, not since your mistress latched her way onto your lives.

‘Hello,’ you say after dialling the number, ‘I know, I know it’s late,’ you reply, ‘I was just thinking about you; I can’t get you out of my head. I need you,’ you confess, your breath becoming shallow just at the mere thought of her, ‘Yes, I can come now,’ you answer eagerly, ‘I’ll be fifteen minutes. No, she’s asleep; I’ll be back before she wakes up’ you confirm, ‘I love you too,’ you drop the call and grab your keys and jacket, silently opening the front door and sneaking into your car.

You sigh, checking the time once more. Almost six o’clock. This is the fifth time this month that you’ve had to leave work early to take your son to the hospital. ‘I’m busy,’ your wife said on the phone when you got the call, ‘You take him,’ she finished before hanging up the phone. You’re not sure what’s gotten into her, but you shake the thought from your head. You pull your phone out of your pocket and flick through Instagram. You fly through selfie after selfie after selfie, staring at each one blankly as you move on to the next. You suddenly stop, stumbling upon an almost nude photo of your mistress. Your eyes widen and you feel your heart racing.

You remember this night vividly. That weekend you told your wife you had a business trip and would be gone for a few days. You lied. You took your mistress on a cruise, ‘I’ve never been on a cruise ship before,’ you remember her whispering to you in your embrace, ‘Nobody has ever been so nice to me,’ she finished, tears in her eyes. You couldn’t keep your hands off her that weekend, holding her tight and whispering cliché words of love into her ear. That was almost six months ago, and you took a picture of her in that black lacy lingerie you bought for her the week prior to the trip to commemorate the day. It was a trip you would never want to forget.

The next picture you stumble across is that of your wife, a throwback picture from years prior. You remember the day this photograph was taken, your twenty-third birthday. You both went away to Paris that day. You spent the day drinking Pinot Noir while you both ran through the streets of Rue des Thermopyles, never letting go of her hand. You sang love songs as loud as you could, while the locals watched and laughed along, witnessing young love blossom in its truest form. You took a picture in front of a blue shop, the very same image you’re looking at now. Shakily, you lock the phone, lower your head into your hands and weep silently.

‘I want you out of my life!’ your wife shouts, throwing the last of your things from the window, ‘Stay away from me and the kids, you cheating bastard!’

It’s nine in the morning and you’re standing in the middle of the street. As your wife throws the last of your possessions from your former domicile, you feel a sudden wave of relief wash over you, as if your whole life culminated to this very moment. You emphatically retrieve your belongings from the street, noticing that most of your neighbours have left their homes to witness the domestics in the morning. You smile to a few of them, nodding them good morning.

After grabbing the last of your items, you retreat to your car. You message your mistress to tell her you’ll be spending some time there, perhaps a few days or weeks, a prospect she readily agrees to.

You’re not a bad person. You tell yourself this as you penetrate your mistress, each thrust married with your thoughts. You spent a lifetime of energy on your wife. You love your wife. You spent an eternity with those kids. You love your kids. But because of that, you lost sight of the one person in your life that needs your love, time and energy the most. You have neglected this person for too long. You’ve lost sight of….

You.

humanity
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About the Creator

Cailin

I am a proud father. I enjoy writing, reading, gaming and music. I have had a troubled life and I wish to have a platform to talk about things that I have experienced.

I will also use this platform for original story ideas. Thank you all.

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