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“Ashley,” Peter says again, as if saying my name again is going to mitigate what I’m seeing.
And what I’m seeing is searing into my memory. I see Peter get up off of whomever he's with. His dick is hard and slimy.
He tries to cover himself, but the woman grabs the blanket and raises her head.
She’s blonde like me. She has huge boobs. Not so slender. Kind of a fucked-up face.
Yes, okay, I’m being unfair. Whatever. I have the right to be unfair right now.
“Ashley!” Peter says again.
I wish there was something I could do to make everyone see what an asshole my ex-boyfriend is.
I’m not thinking. That’s why I pull out my phone.
I turn on Facebook. I select the option to go live.
Sure, I’m young. I have thousands of friends on Facebook. So does Peter. We have so many mutual friends in common. People from Peter’s work are my friends.
I push the button and voila. We’re live on Facebook.
“Everyone,” I say pointing my iPhone toward Peter who is standing there frozen, his dick is hard. “Say hello to my ex-boyfriend. He used to be my boyfriend, but I just got home from work a few minutes ago. I’m about four hours early. And I found him in bed with…”
The woman doesn’t seem fazed at all. She gets out of bed and I wince as I see her tits sway. Did he cheat on her because I don't have as big of tits as her? I mean, I have D cups. She’s definitely older.
She looks to me.
“Hey, love bug,” she says with a wave as she picks up a pair of panties. “I’m Laura. You can find me on the corner of 42nd and 8th Avenue. I charge $100 for the half hour. $150 for the hour. Do you want my website or something?”
A hooker?
A fucking hooker?
Peter Theller, my boyfriend, was cheating on me with a hooker who stands outside of the Port Authority Bus Terminal?
“Peter Theller,” I say, surprisingly calm. “I just want to make sure all my friends know, so they don't have to ask when they find out why we broke up, that I caught you cheating on me with a hundred dollar whore that you found outside of the bus terminal!”
I zoom into his face. He’s sputtering.
I move the camera down.
Peter’s cock, which was as hard as a 5-inch cock could be, starts to deflate. Despite myself, I can't suppress a smirk. This is insane.
“Ashley, turn that off!” Peter says angrily.
Doesn't matter. He can try to turn my phone off. Hell, he can break it if he wants. It's already gone live. And it’ll play forever. And ever. Till the end of time.
“I have nothing else to say to you, you stupid, selfish, piece of shit,” I say to him. My voice is even calm. Still.
Am I acting crazy? The jury’s gonna be out on that one, babe. But I don't work 8 hours grinding my ass on other guys’ cocks not to be able to roll with the punches. And I’m not gonna put up with this shit.
Not when there are guys who look like the Gorgeous Jerk walking around out there.
I turn off my phone and turn around.
“Nice to meet you!” the hooker calls out. “I’m Laura. In case you didn't get that.”
I don't know how, but I’m out the door.
