Brooklyn Heights Ch. 01

The squeaking of the bed filled my head as I walked out of the apartment. I wanted him to finish before I went back in there. I couldn't stand to see that little bitch's face again knowing that my boyfriend ran back into her arms. The loud slam of the door must've made him realize his mistake because two seconds after I walked out, I heard the door open. He was calling my name wanting me to come back. But all I could do was turn and stare at him in the eyes and wonder how I got myself into this mess. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

****Her Story****

We had been talking over the phone and on the net for over 2 years before I finally traveled up to New York to meet him. We'd always discussed how'd we'd meet and how our first fuck session would be like but it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. There was moaning, groaning, grunting, begging for more. All of this was coming from me. He had picked me up from the airport just a couple of hours before. Before we were barely situated in the car, our hands were all over each other. And I loved it. The sex was incredible when we finally go back to his place and it lasted for hours. I thought it was gonna be like that permanently when I decided to move up there. It wasn't.

Everything was fine at first. We'd have sex for hours upon hours upon hours. And it'd be all day, everyday. When we woke up, in the shower, after breakfast, before and after lunch, and before bedtime. I thought he would've gotten worn out with all that we were doing. But he didn't. He loved every bit of it just like I did, which is one of the reasons I moved.

But as the days and weeks went on, I got into school and got a job. We were lucky if we got to do it 3 times a week. It seemed to us like only old married couples should be like that but that wasn't the case. We were both still young, still in our 20s, and couldn't even make time for each other. It killed me inside but there was nothing I could do. It was probably at that point that I started seeing him slip away.

It was about the 6th month I was up there when I finally realized how far apart we were now. We'd finally gotten a night alone but he'd wanted to go out with friends. I tried to plead with him to stay home with me but he's promised he would be back soon. So, like the devoted girlfriend I was, I pouted but told him I would wait for him. We gave each other our goodbye kisses and he left.

I took a good look around the apartment and saw that he had been forever since I had given the apartment a good scrub-down. It was about 5 and I had already eaten so I decided it was time to get to work. I started picking up clothes out of the living room (where he slept some nights when he didn't want to wake me up from coming in late.) After that, I started sweeping, which ended up in the kitchen of cleaning out the dirty fridge, washing dishes, sweeping some more, which led to the bedroom of picking up things and throwing way things (you get the idea.)

I realized I had been going at this for over 3 hours and still hadn't nearly finished. I wanted to hurry and get it up with so I begin picking clothes off he floor and some which were thrown under the bed. I started separating our lights and darks when I came across a pair of red thong panties. I had about 30 pairs, one in just about every color. But like most women, I knew this one was mine. At first I thought maybe I had bought them and had forgotten, which I had seemed o do a lot in those days. But as I recounted, I hadn't gone shopping in a few weeks and the last pair of panties I bought were black. (He loved the way it matched my nice, brown skin.)

Then my most dreaded fear popped into my head. What if he was cheating on me? I wanted to shake off the feeling but I couldn't. It was just too hard. How else had the thongs gotten there? They weren't mine. So, he must've brought them in. Well, maybe he'd bought them for me. But there would be a tag on it. Or some way to tell that it hadn't been used. But there wasn't. And all I could do was wait in agony for him to come home and tell me that he wasn't cheating on me. I prayed that he would tell me he wasn't. I couldn't wait.

When he finally showed up, it was about 2 I the morning. He finally dragged his drunken ass into the house. For the last 4 hours, his friends had bought him drink after drink after drink before he finally puked all over one of them. It was only then that they had decided the fun was over. I couldn't even ask him anything before he passed out on the floor in the kitchen. I wanted to help him but figured he would wake up soon enough with a large ass headache and it would serve him right. For that moment, my anger had disappeared and I went to bed.

In the morning, I heard the shower running and he was groaning softly. His hangover had kicked in and showed him why he shouldn't be drinking so much. I figured this was my chance to make love that I didn't have the opportunity to do the day before due to his stupidity. I was just about to walk into the bathroom when I saw them again. I had put them down on the dresser a little after I had found them so I wouldn't forget to ask him about them after he came in. Fear and anger arose in my heart once again and I grabbed them and went into the bathroom to confront him as soon as he got out.

I didn't take too long for him to finish before he stepped out and saw me standing there, things in hand. His eyes got large and nearly popped out of his head. I wanted laugh but this was too serious a situation so I didn't. He started stammering asking me where I had gotten them and what was I doing with them. I told him how I had found it under the bed and thought that maybe they were mine and I didn't know it. When I saw that they weren't, I thought maybe he hid bought them for me and forgotten it. But seeing as there was no tag on it to prove that theory, there was only one more thing to conclude. Before I could get the words out of my mouth what he knew I thinking, his cell phone rang. I told him to stay there and I would go answer it. He tried to object, but I cut him off.

I went back into the room and searched his pockets until I found it. Th caller ID read "ID unavailable". I picked up the phone and said hello. A soft hello came back, letting me know it was a woman on the other end. The next words out of her mouth were, "This is Kobe."

"Kobe?" I replied back and his eyes got large again. I had discovered who he was cheating with.

To be continued...