Addicted Ch. 02 - FTDS

Addicted Ch 02 - FTDS

FinishTheDamnStory ©

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Costly Addiction - my ending to CuckStudent's Addicted Ch. 01

http://www.literotica.com/s/addicted-ch-01

CuckStudent writes about another cheating slut, who has no thought of consequences when she becomes a whore for the dope smoking neighbor.

Her husband may have other ideas.

There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed. If I find a story that's been left hanging for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

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The Ending of Addicted Ch. 01

With Tom's hard dick inside my wet pussy and his fist pulling hard on my blond hair, I felt, for the first time in my life, like a real woman. Forget everything about equality, romance and all that soap-opera shit. Then and there, in Tom's apartment, there was nothing I wanted more than being a total fuck-slut, an object, a piece of flesh that's repeatedly abused by a real man.

And that's what happened that afternoon. And I mean all afternoon. Tom and I fucked and sucked and licked. He pounded my pussy at least four times, and I think I had more orgasm in that dirty apartment that afternoon than I had had my whole life. And each of them was better than all the previous ones combined.

It was only after the fourth time Tom had cum inside of me, that I realized we hadn't used any protection at all. I freaked, but not as much as I should have. Somehow, in the back of my mind, even knowing that I could now be pregnant with another man's child, I thought it to be worth it. That was the moment when I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Like I said, we fucked all afternoon. Four times he came inside of me. It was the best I'd ever had. Absolutely incredible. Mind blowing. I was addicted.

By the time I left his place, I could barely walk. I stumbled across the hall, finally realizing what I had done. I had no idea what time it was, but I prayed it was going to be another late night for Robert. I hadn't made dinner, and I was a complete mess. I knew for sure I couldn't let him fuck me that night. He'd know.

I unlocked the door and stumbled into our apartment.

"Yes. He's there now," I heard my husband say. I looked over and saw him hang up his phone.

I tried to rush past him, mumbling something about being out with friends.

"Don't be in such a hurry. You're going to enjoy this."

"Enjoy what?" I asked.

He only grinned. Moments later I heard a pounding out in the hall. "This is the police. Open the door," a loud voice shouted.

Son-of-a-bitch. What the hell was going on?

"The asshole was over there pounding another slut. His ass his grass. Literally. I smelled it when I went over there last night, and again when I came home half-an-hour ago."

"Smelled what?" I asked nervously, wondering if he could smell Tom's cum on me.

"Pot, the place reeked of it. The guy's a druggie. I went down to the police station to write up a complaint on him, and it turns out the police know him quite well. He's on parole. Didn't take five minutes to find that out. Apparently a dealer, too. Why do you think he doesn't work, and is home all day? He deals out of his apartment. I imagine he'll be back in the lockup within minutes. Of course I'm still charging him with assault as well. Seriously, all I did was ask the bastard to keep it down, and he hit me. Hopefully the next neighbor will be better."

My gut was tying itself in knots. I'd spent the entire afternoon fucking a drug dealer?

"Yeah. Those women? He trades drugs for sex. What a scum-sucking asshole! Who knows what kind of diseases that bastard has?"

Suddenly, I knew I was going to be sick. I ran to the bathroom, barely making it. Robert called after me. I heard a knock at the door, and then the creak of it opening. "Mr. Reed?"

"You caught the bastard?" I heard Robert say.

"Dead to rights. Two pounds of marijuana. PCP, and a variety of pills we have yet to determine. You were absolutely right. Thanks for the tip. Tough luck having a loser like that move in next door."

"Was his latest whore still there?" Robert asked.

Oh God. Five minutes longer, and I'd probably be headed downtown with the bastard who'd drugged me and fucked me raw. Alright, drugged me willingly, but I didn't know!

"No, she must live around here somewhere. Nobody came down the stairs. She's probably pretty messed up. It looks like he was lacing his dope with PCP. Poor girls probably never knew what hit 'em."

I stepped into the shower, unable to listen to anymore, scrubbing myself as thoroughly as I could. It wouldn't come off. The filth was more than skin deep. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't get clean.

It was the drugs, I told myself. That's why I succumbed so easily. That's what made it seem so good at the time. The fucker drugged me. It wasn't really my fault. Shit!

When I finally gave up and got dressed, I was ready to face the music. I knew it was going to be bad.

"Robert..." I started, on the verge of tears.

"What do you say we go celebrate? I saw you didn't get a chance to make dinner, and I know I'm home earlier than usual. Pizza at Luigi's?"

Over dinner, I found out why he was home early. He'd received the promotion. The dealership was one of six owned by the same auto-group. I should have known that. He was now the CFO for the entire string. They let him off to come home and tell me the good news.

"Great day, huh?" he said, over the deluxe pizza slice. "All that work finally paid off, and we got rid of the next door asshole at the same time. Life is fucking great!" He was beaming.

My brain was still fuzzy from the dope, as I passed on the beer, and stuck to diet Coke. "I knew you could do it, baby," I said. I tried to sound as excited as him.

"I was so tempted to kick his ass last night, you know? But he had a scary look in his eyes. I guess it was the PCP. He just opened the door, and before I could get a half-dozen words out, he hit me! When I saw the pig-sty he lived in, and smelled that pot smell, well I knew it was better to use brains than brawn. I still have to wonder, what kind of whore could even think about staying with him in that God forsaken mess? No wonder he had to use addicts and druggies to get off." He took a sip of his beer. "Do you know they found handcuffs attached to his headboard? I hope they lock him way for years."

I don't think he could have made me feel any smaller if he tried. What the fuck had I been thinking? "I have no idea where he would find women like that. It's kind of scary. A drug dealer next door?"

"With my new position, we won't have to worry about things like that much longer. When our lease expires in two months, we'll be able to buy a house finally, and get serious about making babies." He reached across the table, and too my hand. "I love you Carol. Thank you for being so patient these last several months. I'm gonna make it up to you."

"I love you too, Robert. More than you'll ever know."

Please, God, let him never find out. I swear I'll never do anything so stupid again.

The way he looked at me, like there was nobody else in the world, made me want to cry and beg his forgiveness. But I would be strong. I'd keep the nasty secret, and make it up to him. He deserved better. I was going to make sure he got it. We'd put this little mistake behind us.

When he made love to me that night, I wanted to scream in pain, I was so sore. I held it in, and did my best to hide my fear and shame. I was terrified the whole time, that he'd notice how loose I was, how used. I faked my response, like it was the best it had ever been. He seemed to believe it. I waited until he was asleep to cry.

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It had been a close one, but I'd managed to keep my indiscretion a secret. No more drugs for me. No screwing around. Nobody but my husband, ever again. I was disgusted with myself, trying to understand how I could go from faithful to slut so quickly. How I could possibly have let that bastard next door use me so thoroughly.

After that close call, I was going to be the best damn wife in the world. I had it good and I knew it. After 30 days in his new position, Robert was going to get all kinds of perks, including a new, high-end company car, more vacation, better hours, all kinds of good stuff. I was a stay-at-home wife, with no responsibilities except for keeping the house clean, cooking dinner, and making sure I looked good for my man. I wasn't about to fuck up again.

Three weeks later, when I had missed my period, I got nervous. I was never more than a day or two late. I'd almost forgotten about the four times with Tom, in the middle of my cycle. Hell's bells. The home pregnancy test confirmed it. I was pregnant.

Shit.

It could be Robert's. His hours had been cut back, and he'd been serious about working at making babies. Four-five times a week serious. My guilt made me available to him at any time, and in any way. It could be his. It could be.

I made his favorite dinner. He called from work, saying he'd be home on time. He had some important news. I just knew he'd been given the upgraded company car. He'd been so excited, when he told me what his options were. I knew I'd look great behind the wheel of a Cadillac STS, windows open, sunglasses on, my long blonde hair blowing in the wind.

We'd started looking at houses. Three bedroom, two bath, garage, big yard, great neighborhoods. We'd already been pre-qualified, and were debating which one of three we preferred. We were planning on going out that weekend to make our final decision.

I dressed in my sexiest nightie. I put on some nice music, lit some candles. I was going to make this night incredible for him. I owed him that much.

He walked in, and put his briefcase to the side. He didn't look happy.

"Rough day today," he said.

I welcomed him with a hug. "I've got some news that will brighten it," I told him. I dragged him in and had him sit down, putting a drink in his hand.

He grinned weakly. "Looks like somebody's in a good mood."

"I am. You should be too. We're going to have a baby!"

I had expected surprise, then euphoria. We'd been working at it for nearly a year and a half. The look of confusion, then anger frightened me. When he dropped his full drink on the floor, I started trembling.

"Aren't you happy? We've wanted this for so long, Honey."

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and threw it at me. Literally threw it at me.

"That my news, Carol. I got the results back from the doctor. The reason it's taken us 18 months is that I'm sterile. So do you want to tell me who the lucky father is?"

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Here's how it works in San Antonio. Everything starts out getting split 50/50. We split up the bank accounts and belongings. Our rented apartment and the company car had zero value.

In cases of adultery, the Judge has a lot of leeway in determining the division of assets. When you're carrying another man's child, two years into a marriage, the Judge doesn't look kindly on that. When you give your husband an STD, it gets ugly. My share was 20 to his 80. The Judge said I only got that much, because he was feeling sorry for me, for being pregnant and so damn stupid. In Texas, we don't have alimony, we call it maintenance. If you're married less than 10 years, you get zilch. That's right, nothing.

Less than three months after my announcement, I was on my own. My $180,000 philosophy degree was just enough to get me a job as a waitress at Denny's. I had a couch, a few dishes, pots and pans, the bedroom TV, my clothing, and a check for $708. I could swear we had more money, Hell, we'd been talking about putting $15 grand down on our house. But I was married to an accountant. He showed them the books, I got 7 bills. Case closed.

As you can probably imagine, Tom, the dealer with the fat dick, wasn't a great source of child support. Four months pregnant, I wasn't turning many heads. I was fortunate enough to find a better waitressing job a few months later. It was still not enough to even pay my bills; my parents were sending me checks every month. Thank God for the free clinic. I don't know how I would have managed, otherwise.

I was waddling to my latest table, 8 months along, when I pulled up short. There was Robert. He was looking great! It was only then that I saw the woman sitting across from him. She was gorgeous, and only had eyes for my hubby. Ex-hubby, I should say.

I almost turned and ran, but then he looked up at me. I don't know what I expected, anger maybe? He smiled. "Hi Carol, I didn't know you worked here."

"For three weeks now," I confessed. "You're looking great, Robert."

He didn't, couldn't say the same about me. I looked like a whale. "Dana, this is Carol, my ex-wife. Carol, my fiancée, Dana."

Fiancée? We'd only been divorced five months!

The bitch gave me that look. You know the one, looked me up and down, measuring me. Taking her good sweet time to do it. She smirked. "I'll have a Shiner light." She spoke with that God forsaken, hick, west Texas drawl. Make me puke. The gold-digger stretched her hand across the table, her left hand of course, making sure I got a good view of the huge rock on her ring finger.

"Large shiner for me," Robert said, turning away from me, gazing on that woman like he should have been looking at me. Like he had, only a few months ago. "Calamari as an appetizer." He didn't even look up as he gave me his order.

I walked away, and heard the skinny bitch giggle. I bet those tits were fake. Laugh at me, will you?

Unfortunately, the manager caught me spitting in her beer. Their dinner was comp'ed, and I was fired.

Life's just fuckin' great, isn't it?

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