Betrayed Ch. 01

I was completely spent, physically and emotionally. My humiliation knew no limits. What had Susan called me?The prettiest boy she had ever met.Obviously, a 'pretty boy' had no chance against a stud like Jeff Spencer in her eyes. Just as obviously, the beautiful boy-girl atop me felt the same way; she had just made me her punk bitch. Self-esteem? What's that? I threw on my pants, fumbling frantically with the zipper and belt, then swept up my other clothes in my arms and fled for the door. I heard Dianna call out good-naturedly behind me as the door closed.

"See you again soon...Freak."

I didn't go home. I couldn't; not now, not ever again, not to live, anyway. Icertainlywasn't ready to face Susan, assuming she was even home. I got a hotel room that night, took a long, hot,thorough shower, turned off my cell phone, then crawled between the sheets. I slept, but in a tortured turmoil commensurate with my waking experience.

***

It was the Week from Hell. Granted, it had actually begun when I fled Dianna's apartment Friday night and extended through that long, lost weekend. On Monday morning, I called the office and took personal time. Later, when I was certain Susan would not be home, I returned to our Printer's Row loft and removed my clothes and personal items. The building was going condo; thank God I hadn't signed the conversion contract yet. I gazed around what had been our –my– happy home one last time, recalling memories of much better times. Then, I walked out the door. It closed behind me with a resoundingclickof finality.

I filed the separation papers first thing, citing "Open and Notorious Adultery". After viewing the DVD, my attorney assured me my case was a slam-dunk. Divorcing her financially was almost as easy, owing to some simple precautions I had taken along the way; separate accounts, asset protection, offshore holdings. With her own income, plus the assets of her millionaire boyfriend, she would have no need to come after my assets, much less legal standing to do so. My attorney had quipped all Susan would be able to do was bend over and spread her cheeks, something that didn't appear to be a problem for her. I inwardly shuddered at the reference. He promised to file the papers with the court clerk immediately and see to it they were served the next morning.

My cell phone began ringing around lunchtime Tuesday. Funny she hadn't bothered to call all weekend or Monday to see if I was all right. I guess she hadn't noticed I hadn't come home. Caller ID told the tale. I summarily rejected Susan's calls and instructed our office's receptionist not to put her through if she called there. My estranged mate switched tactics, and the cell's display came up "Private Caller". I wasn't about to be that easily fooledagain, and let the calls go to Voicemail.

On Tuesday afternoon I signed the lease-with-option on a nice two-bedroom in Streeterville, across the street from North Pier. It had a breathtaking view of Ogden Slip and the lake beyond. I liked boats and had always enjoyed watching all the pleasure craft tie up at the berths in the slip while their owners dined at the adjacent eateries. I was looking forward to the coming summer. It was nice to havesomethingto look forward to again.

The next three days were filled with the loosely-organized feeding frenzy that is commodities trading. After work, there was the camaraderie of fellow traders and co-workers. The office grapevine had pronounced something was up between me and my wife and everyone avoided the subject. The condo was sumptuous, made more so by the furnishings I equipped it with. The neighborhood was young, gentrified, and hip. The evening crowds below hustled to and from the surrounding restaurants, clubs, and shops.

Every night since the previous Friday had been long, lonely, and tortured. I couldn'tnotdream about Sex. It had dominated my waking thoughts, my life, for a week. In my dreams, I was walking naked down the middle of North Michigan Avenue. The street was lined with people: my wife and her lover, my friends, co-workers, complete strangers. Sex was going on all around me and I was powerless to affect its course or outcome. Everyone mocked me openly.

Through it all, I was aware of one particular pair of eyes watching me intently, bemusedly, as though I was some form of entertainment – or a personal plaything. It embarrassed, humiliated me to know those eyes watched my every move. I hated them, feared them, yet desired them. I never wanted to see them again, yet couldn't bear to be without them.

Those eyes were brown, not green.

The call came Friday afternoon.

"How long were you planning to hold out?" Dianna inquired nonchalantly.

"Bitch," I growled.

"Always," she deflected gracefully.

"Did you call to rub my nose in it – again?" I asked pointedly.

"Don't take me there, Lover," she snipped abruptly. "You could have left at any time. You didn't. Don't eventryto tell me I made you do anything you weren't willing to do."

She paused a moment, as if re-considering her words.

"Actually," she continued in a much more conciliatory tone, "I may have sent you off on the wrong note the other night. I meet so many fr... I mean, I have a bad habit of treating all men the way I have been treated. You didn't deserve that. You were nothing but nice to me, a real gentleman. The fact youdidn'tleave makes me think I made an impression on you, too. Am I right?"

There was so much Iwanted to say, how she had dominated my thoughts and dreams for the past week. I couldn't even put it into words.

"Well, at least you're not denying it," the bewitching brunette summarized. "For what it's worth, you are the most attractive lover I have had in a long time. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but I have been thinking about you all week. I was wondering; would you be willing to... let me make it up to you? On the house?"

I couldn't believe it. Dianna probably had sex with a dozen men or more a week. Yet, she was thinking about me? She wanted to see me on a personal basis? I may not have been the most perceptive man on the planet, but I sensed her offhand reference to it being a 'freebie' was as much to mollify her own doubts as mine. For all my earlier ambivalence, I realized I had been obsessing over her, too. I couldn't make the arrangements fast enough.

I was extremely agitated on the drive to her place in Lakeview. The traffic on Lake Shore Drive wasso slow. If that wasn't bad enough, parking was impossible in her neighborhood. She buzzed me in and was waiting at her door when I reached the top of the stairs. She wore only garter belt, stockings, stiletto sandals, and a floor-length sheer black peignoir. She was exquisite, head to toe. Her eyes danced and she flashed an alluring smile.

"Hi again, Sugar," she purred. "Welcome b..."

I cut her off with a straight arm to her chest. My momentum carried her backwards, across the tiny studio apartment. To her credit, she kept her balance beautifully in those skyscraper stilts, right up to the moment she fell backwards onto the bed. I was on her in a flash, then had her cock in my mouth a moment later. I teased, tormented, tortured her with my lips and tongue for over an hour, bringing her to the edge, then backing off, only to bring her close again. Finally, I allowed her to shoot her load down my throat. By that time, she was screaming, thrashing wildly, and pummeling my shoulders with her fists. It was something like ten minutes before she was able to take a deep breath and speak.

"Well," she exclaimed, staring at the ceiling. "So much for idle chit-chat. Does this mean all is forgiven?"

"Do you have plans for the rest of the weekend?" I countered.

"I guess I do now," she chirped. "I was going to work. A girl's gotta pay rent, you know."

"Don't worry about that," I returned. "I'm good for it."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked cautiously.

"Let's work on it and see what happens," I replied.

She raised one eyebrow in that manner I found so attractive. Then, she began massaging my engorged, aching cock.

"Work on it, huh?" she teased. "Oh yeah, Honey; I'll 'work on it'. Tit for tat – so to speak."