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I learned everything I could about him and their relationship, but I missed a step here, so let’s go back to the beginning. I found him extremely attractive the first time we met, which was months after I first started working there. But it wasn’t until my first party at his home that I met his wife and saw their beautiful home.
All evening, while everyone else was networking, I was weaving dreams in my head about the life they must live in that big, beautiful mansion in the ritzy part of town. The oversized portrait of their family that hung over the mantle in their living room had everyone talking, and when I asked, the women who knew her had nothing but good things to say. Everyone talked about how amazing their family was, and for some reason, that irked me.
The seed was planted, and it was then that I did everything in my power to get close to him on the job. That chance came a few months later, and I knew, as hot as I was to get him into my bed, I had to take it slow. Like I said, it was obvious that he still loved her. I’d seen it the few times I was in their presence together, the way he still looked at her. I wanted that. Wanted his eyes to look at me that way.
I talked about myself a lot but made it seem offhanded as if I was just shooting the breeze or passing time. I made myself seem as exciting and free-spirited as possible. To a man whose wife was a SAHM and had made her life all about her kids and family life, I knew he would find my weekend adventures intoxicating.
When I invited him to go hiking that first time it was just as friends, or so he thought. But I was sure to be as engaging as possible without being too obvious. The tank top I wore wasn’t too revealing, but it hugged my tits just right to be in his face at every opportunity.
When I bent over to redo my lace that had come undone, I made sure to show my ass in its best light. After that, it was just a matter of time before I was touching him here and there, innocently of course, while we worked on something together.
Our weekends together grew more frequent, and it wasn’t long before I felt the shift. I knew it when I called him late one night crying about some made-up shit that I don’t even remember, and he came running; he’d left his marriage bed to come to me, and I knew then that I had him.
My excitement was hard to contain because by then, I had made up my mind that if I hooked this big fish, the biggest so far, that I was going to go all the way. I wasn’t interested in a few expensive dinners or weekend getaways. I wanted it all. That house, that life. The fact that he’s the best lover I’ve ever had only made it more appealing to shoot for the stars.
THE BITCH
I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t I think of this before? I left her neighborhood and headed to the airport. I knew where they were arriving from due to all the posts she’d made on social media, so it should be easy to blend in with other people there to pick up their friends and family.
In some part of my mind, I knew I was acting weird; something felt off. But something has felt off since the first moment I realized I was losing him to her, and I haven’t been able to stop it or change it. It feels like I’m out of control like someone else is leading me around by the nose, and I can’t stick to the plans I had in mind because nothing was going the way I expected or foresaw.
I think maybe I relaxed too soon, and that’s why this is happening, but how could I know that he’d go back to her or that she’d take him? She always seemed so aloof, like all those women I graduated with who wouldn’t give me the time of day now because they were all afraid their men would find me more appealing, which most of them did.
By the time we graduated, I had slept with at least five of their men and wasn’t shy about letting it be known. Maybe that’s where I went wrong. But I never had any intentions of keeping any of them; that was never part of my game plan back then, so it didn’t matter if they knew or not. But things were different with Justin. With him, I could see forever.
Those other boys and men were just like cutting teeth before the real thing, and he was the real thing. I’d worked so hard on him, given him the best time of his life, I’m sure. What could an old, dried-up woman who’s already birthed three kids have on me?
I never gave birth and had a tight-fit body that was partly bought, but so what? I looked better than her washed-up ass, and he wanted it. He wanted it bad. I played him like a fiddle, getting some pointers from online forums of all places, where women discussed their affairs and how to go about doing things the right way.
I needed that because up until now, all of my conquests had been young high school or college men, and this was the big leagues. I knew that I couldn’t rely on my old trusted ways of just throwing some pussy at them, so I got some new pointers, especially how not to move too fast and how to play coy, never letting on that I was after everything he had and then some.
It's much harder to convince a man in his thirties to leave his wife and kids than it is to convince college boys just looking to get laid to take the risk. I knew that a background check back then would’ve destroyed any one of those earlier relationships, so I used them mostly as learning experiences, but now, with years and distance between my family and me, it was going to be much easier. It was time.
Justin, unlike those other men and boys, was a grown man who didn’t need Mommy’s approval to marry whoever he wanted, or so I thought. But that’s a different story for another time. Let’s just say his mother refused to meet me or even let me into her home in the time we’ve been together. The way she’d acted, you’d have thought Callie was her kid instead of Justin, something that pissed me off no end.
I’d met her a handful of times at their parties, and she always seemed very nice and personable. We’d even had a few conversations, nothing enlightening, but enough for me to learn that she was one of those upper-crust types who took family values very seriously.
Seeing the relationship between her and Callie, as well as her and Justin, I was almost certain that she’d come around at some point since she loved her son so much, but I was wrong. She’d stopped talking to him for the longest time before and after the divorce, and I was almost certain that it was Callie who talked her around for the kids’ sake or some such crap.
I hate these women who use their kids to hold onto men who want to be free. That’s what I’d found all over the forums and what I prepared for. I’d convinced Justin that I could be the perfect stepmother by volunteering some weekends with the Big Sister organization and regaling him with made-up stories of my time spent volunteering with kids of all ages. I hate fucking kids.
But I was more than ready to have one or two if it meant I would make out like Callie did in the divorce. I snooped and found out how much he was paying in alimony and child support, and that bitch was making more in a month than I do in three, working my ass off. A hell of a lot more.
In the beginning, when I brought it up with Justin, he’d griped and agreed with me that it was too much and he should see about getting it lowered, but coming on to the end, when I mentioned it again, he’d cut me off harshly and warned me not to get involved with anything to do with his kids.
I think that was the moment I realized that things were really not going well for us, for me. But that was only the first of many red flags. Since then, everything seemed to be going her way, and things were getting away from me more and more. First, she refused to give me the satisfaction that fueled my desires.
One of the best parts of stealing a woman’s man is watching her disintegrate. I get such a rush from seeing other women cry and scream and make a fool of themselves, all the while knowing there’s nothing they can do because I’ve got my hooks into their man.
Those online forums go very in-depth about pussy techniques that are meant to bind a man to your side if you know what I mean, so there was never any danger of me losing him. There was no way she could compete against me in that department, I was sure.
I used to wait by the phone almost breathlessly, especially after the affair came to light, my panties already wet with anticipation because I knew that no matter how stoic she pretended to be, no woman was going to just let go of her husband, the man she’d been with for so long, without a fight. But nothing, there was nothing, not even a peep.
I think Justin was surprised as well by her indifference because some of his rants seemed to be more about her and wanting her to fight for them than it was about us finally being able to be together without the noose that was his wife and kids around his neck.
I, too, was so distracted that I didn’t find fault with his rages but instead let them slide, foolishly telling myself that he was just as surprised as I was by her behavior, and that’s why he was acting this way.
She didn’t do any of the things I expected, not even kicking up a fuss when I insisted on coming along for pickup time. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the only reason Justin gave in after fighting me on that was to make her jealous. It wasn’t about me at all. But by then, I had let so many things go over my head that it was too late to turn back the clock, and she got the upper hand.
