Ending Affairs

This story is written as a loose tribute to someone. If this person happens across this story, she will know who she is. Here's hoping that she does.

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The spark ran out. I don't think it will ever come back. The thought of being around him only pissed me off, because of the affair he had. Like, what the fuck was it about her that he needed? I don't understand, and I never will. I mean, I still love him, but I can't trust him. Not after this.

But the way that he touches me, and looks at me. Ugh. I can't control myself around him. I need to have boundaries and borders up when it comes to him, but even after this breakup; since he left all I can do is think about how he hurt me. He hurt me so bad. But he hurt me so damn good too. Who the fuck does he think he is that he can just play with me like that? I'm a woman who has emotional needs, and I can get what I want from anyone. But no one looks at me the way he does. No one touches me like he does. No one plays with my mind the way he does. He stimulates my anger, but also my sexual drive.

I can honestly say that no one has ever loved me and hurt me the way that he has. Alternatively, no one has ever made love to me the way that he has. No one has ever fucked me the way he has. Everyone else was just for their benefit, to talk dirty, wrap it up, cum, and that's it. I've been left so unsatisfied with everyone else, but to my credit, they don't really turn me on. They're just...fillers. I have a hole that needs to be filled, and I've been horny. Like, ridiculously horny, to the point where I'm taking breaks between clients at work to be alone and finger myself on occasion. Now let's get something straight, I'm not just some whore who goes around looking for sex. I have standards, and I'm not just going to let them down for anyone. No, I'm very selective, but I always keep myself busy so that I don't have much time to think about it. But when I do, I act accordingly, and a whore is not in my description. Most of the time, it culminates in me having to sneak late at night at my house with my nosey ass roommates to even attempt just fingering myself, let alone bringing someone else, which hasn't, and isn't going to happen. And to be clear about this as well, fingering myself it still doesn't do it. Seriously, how the fuck can he touch me in a way that I can't even touch myself? I can't shake it.

I'd been trying to distance myself from him, in the separation portion prior to serving him with the divorce paperwork, but it's been hard to. I was seeing him at least once a week and every weekend because we're both on the same recreation softball team. Honestly, there's something about the way his ass looks in his baseball pants, but even more the way he looks at me when I go up to bat. After he left me, I was still drawn to him, and after every game, win or lose, the rest of the team would want to go out for drinks. I wasn't a drinker, but I went for the comradery. He would often sit at the table I was at or next to it, directly across from me just to look at me. The look he gave me was so...intense. Even in a passing glance, he'd find a way to reel me in. It's not fair. He must be able to do that with anyone without it happening to him. FUCK HIM! No...I want him to fuck ME...I need him. I can't hold it in anymore.

Anyway, after these games and dinners, and most of the time when the rest of the team left wherever we were eating, we'd happen to talk afterward, either about the game or about us. No matter what, one hundred percent of the time, it resulted in us going somewhere and having sex. It would often be in my car, if not out at a park or abandoned building's parking lot or extra area. But I had to put that to bed because I had to start looking after myself. One day, a few years ago, he surprised me by promising that he wouldn't meet up with me for sex again after dinners, or at all for that matter, because he wanted to work on himself. He claimed that he was going to be celibate until we were back together. I was angry and happy at the same time, but mostly understanding. I felt like he took my power away from me with that move, but I felt like it was a step in the right direction. But his celibacy? Fat fucking chance in hell. But more power to him for trying to manipulate me yet again. Psh...not.

Crazy enough though, whether it was true or not, he didn't ask me for sex in the enitre following 2 years. We talked here and there about the prospect of it and different scenarios and stuff, but I couldn't believe or trust him most of the time. But there was an inkling of light, in that we talked for 2 years off and on, but had no relationship, and as often as we were previously having sex, he quit cold turkey. At first I felt a certain kind of way about it, but I kinda got over it as time went on.

Today was our championship game and we won. He hit 3 home runs, one of them a grand slam in the 2nd inning. Except for a double in the bottom of the 3rd, I was either struck out or got out on 2 fly-outs. It wasn't my day, but we ended up winning 7 to 2 for our 7th championship in 12 seasons. Not too shabby for a group that had only played 6 years together. There was always this chemistry that we all had as a unit and it helped us to succeed on the field. Maybe that discipline helped him out too.

Like any other night we went out for drinks, but something was different about tonight. He didn't drink, and he sat across from me. Like, directly across from me like old times. It struck me as odd, but then he went to the bathroom and no less than 2 minutes had passed when I got a random text.

Don't leave when everyone else does. It's been 2 years, and I haven't done ANYTHING. I want you tonight. I NEED you tonight.

He hasn't asked this of me in 2 years, and I was confused. I sent back question marks, and he came back from the bathroom staring at me, lustfully. To put it in perspective, we were on the "off" portion of our on and off talks. We hadn't talked in almost 2 weeks. After the dinner, the rest of the team left and we waited for the last couple of people to leave before we took off. Before we got in our cars, he told me to follow him.

We drove about 3 miles from the bar we were at, and parked at a vacant train parking lot in my car. I went back and forth on the prospect of hooking up with him again, but let's face it, I'm not really in a position to say no. After his game, compared to mine, and the fact that he was so upfront about meeting me like this, I couldn't help but get a little horny at the thought of it. In my head, my plan was to give him a little bit of head because he "hadn't had sex or jacked off in 2 years, and he was so wound up". I was already horny and empathized with him because, well, so was I. However, I wanted to tease him so bad because he wanted me so bad. I had him in my palm, for however long I would, and I wasn't going to relinquish that power. I knew exactly what I was going to do, except when he pulled his pants down while sitting in the passenger seat, I looked at it, and immediately began to second guess myself. Do I want to tease him, or challenge myself? My mouth was watering at the thought of him filling my mouth, just like old times when he would force me to do it. He used to order me to do certain things, and I went above and beyond the call of duty for him sometimes, selflessly wanting nothing more than to please him. I wanted to feel the passion that we used to have. When I leaned over to kiss him, I had it in my mind to only suck the tip to punish him but I couldn't do it. He kissed me so passionately and when I went to pull back, he bit my lip to keep me there. I let out a slight moan, and went back for more. I finally pulled back, and paused, recollecting myself.

He stared at me with this lustful, dark look in his brown eyes, and even though it was night and the closest streetlight was about 50 yards away, I could see that look. His lips, just as juicy as I pictured them when I kissed him. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him that I was waiting on an order. I sincerely missed when he commanded me to do things, whether it was as little as turning over in bed, or demanding that I don't make a single noise as he drilled deep inside of me while in some of the most uncomfortable positions, I was happy to oblige and do anything he wanted. I was his bitch, and he was my daddy. When I told him that I was waiting on his order, he grabbed me by my hair and as if he read my mind, he told me to only suck the tip. But once I felt his tip on my tongue, I remembered what it was like before, him having complete and unwavering control of my mind and body, I couldn't help myself. I devoured him and it felt so good, and on top of that, he started to moan. He never lets out more than a hard breath, let alone a moan or grunt. It made me wet instantaneously, and all I wanted to do was hear more.

I began to slide it further and further in my mouth, eventually to where he was in my throat. What happened next was what I expected and desired. He pulled me up by my hair, and slapped the dog shit out me for disobeying him. That's when I fully committed to challenging myself to do something that I haven't done for him in 3 years: make him cum in my mouth by only giving him head. I knew this wasn't something he expected, and I'm not sure that he even wanted it, but with every motion of my head, I gargled more and more spit, grunting along with him...moaning with him. With each motion, my motivation grew larger and larger, to where I almost came just knowing that I had this kind of control over his body, and of course, reciprocating that power dynamic with his dick. He controlled my head by grabbing my hair, controlling my throat and how much air I could breathe with his dick, but I didn't care. I let him do it and all I could think when he restricted my breathing for tens of seconds is how I could please him, because I knew he would reciprocate. He ALWAYS did.

Surely enough, as sloppy as I was making it for him, and as intentional I was with him, his breathing got heavier and more measured, his grunts and moans got louder, and I could tell he was getting close because he was pulling my head up. As motivated as ever, and with all the strength I had, I forced him to fill my throat, and allow every warm drop of cum to come up my throat while he screamed out my name. I didn't really care for swallowing because of the texture and how it gets stuck in my throat like a phlegm, but I didn't give it a second thought to take all of it in, and milk him as dry as I could. I couldn't help but notice, though, that his load wasn't as big as I expected. Right as I was about to ask him, he offered to make me cum and promised a second round, no matter how sensitive he was. How thoughtful. How come he couldn't have been that thoughtful to me when he was with that other bitch? Whatever.

Without a care in the world, he opened the door and moved to the back seat, then adjusted the passenger seat to accommodate his long legs. I bit my lip as I was smiling, taking my shoes off to follow his lead. His dick was still out, and I could feel how wet my pussy was just by sitting down, only I wasn't the most sure that it was just me being wet, or if it was mother nature rearing her head at the most inopportune moment yet again. The most self conscious moment of the night happened when he leaned over to kiss me, because I didn't want to say anything in a moment of selfish spite, but I couldn't help myself. I stopped him and told him, and he asked if it was a tampon or pad. I told him it was a tampon, and he told me to take it out so that he could finish his job. THAT for sure wasn't my period. That was all him.

I got out and threw the tampon into the bushes next to the car and sat back down. Luckily there wasn't much of a trace, but a slight bit of spotting. Once I sat down, I didn't have a chance to settle in before he grabbed my legs and pulled me to where I was laying on the back seat, sideways as he licked my clit. I couldn't contain myself. I began to shudder, cuss, scream, and moan simultaneously as he forced his tongue and fingers inside of me. There was almost no build up or easing into him devouring me, he just did it. He did it so...ravenously. So strong. He wanted me. He was eating me like he needed me. But I couldn't give in, no matter how much he wanted or how well he FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!! He licked every crevice of me, not sparing an ounce of energy. I can't remember the last time that I came that fast, but I know it was with him. I wish I could just wrap my arms around him and cry because of how good he eats me out. I love this man so much, and not just for the sex, but my God it's a very close second. I asked him if that was it, and if he wanted more, and without saying anything else, he pressed his tip against my over-sensitized clit, rubbing it against it slowly and with a sense of purpose, to where I could feel every nerve ending on it, and I can tell you he was NOT any less hard than just before he came. I begged him to fuck me, meaning that our power dynamic shifted all over to him.

He teased me with the tip, and pulled out, telling me to get out of the car. I was confused, not knowing what was going to happen next, but ironically enough, I trusted him. He got out and went into the passenger side to grab something, but I couldn't make out what it was. There was a beautiful full moon facing the back of the car, which meant it was facing me. He walked to the front of the car, with his and my phone both in hand, on selfie mode. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me to shut up. Not knowing what else to do, I walked behind him and reached around, grabbing his balls to play with them gently as I waited for his next instruction. Maybe it was the length of time between actions, or since he gave me this feeling, but it felt like he was bigger than I remembered. He strategically placed his phone on the hood of the car to where it could capture anything that happened within the frame. He finished with my phone, and placed the phone the same exact way. He told me then that he wasn't going to fuck me for a couple of minutes, but he did want me to suck it again. I asked why, and he slapped me and told me to do what the fuck he said. I didn't know what was going on, but I was willing to do anything he said just to get that feeling back; the feeling of having him, and not sharing him. I wanted to be his. Alone.

As fate would have it, another car pulled up and I stopped to go and hide behind the car, only for him to grab my arm and force me back to the ground, all without moving his feet an inch to stop me. I was even more scared than before, almost on the verge of tears. This person gets out of their car after parking it and walks toward us, looking at him, then looking at me. The mysterious person never talked, but got an approving head nod from him. What the fuck is going on?

He grabbed me by my hair and told me to suck. He leaned on the hood of my car, pressing record on both phones, then sat with his arms crossed. I sat there, on my knees, confused about what I was supposed to do. The person unzipped their pants to reveal a larger than anticipated dick. It was bigger than his, and I didn't know what to do. He ordered me to suck it and the person grabbed me by my hair and lodged it down my throat. Fear took everything away from me, but this underlying sense of pleasure desensitised me completely from an independent woman to just a character in this threesome. The whore that I swore that I wouldn't be, I feel like I'm becoming. I did my absolute best to satisfy this person the way I did him. I gagged, I deep throated, I spit, and I played with the tip. Maybe it was the desensitization that I was going through earlier, but it didn't have a taste, but it throbbed when I sucked as hard as I could. I could barely get my mouth around it to the base, but I did it. Still, this person didn't react at all, except when they were about to cum, they just breathed hard. They came a good amount, not in my mouth, but on my face and glasses. It was all recorded on camera.

Once they were finished, they zipped up their pants, and I turned around to look at him, and he smiled with this matter-of-fact look on his face. I asked him what was going on, but he remained silent. The mysteriousness of the moment had me still horny, clamoring for more. I felt like this sex crazed monster that didn't want anything less than the roughest, most passionate, and dirtiest fucking that I've ever had. I was getting more and more wet at the thought of it, but I still had an overwhelming feeling of confusion as to who this stranger was.

He walked over to me and helped me up to my feet, never taking his eyes away from mine. All of that love that I felt before from him came back in a rush, and just as fast as it came, it fled as he whispered in my ear something that set me off. He told me that he was going to stop the recording, and take me to his house to finish the night the right way. Just like old times, he was always looking to satisfy me above all else. He grabbed both of our phones, handing me mine, and gesturing the stranger to leave. I walked over to my passenger side and put my leggings back on, and wiped my face with a napkin soaked in water from a water bottle I had in the cup holder. I wanted so badly to ask who that was that just used me for my mouth, but I felt like it wasn't my place. At least not yet. I don't even feel like the strong woman that I was just an hour ago at dinner. There was something about him tonight that was just...different. I sat down and let him drive, and he pulled off after the stranger pulled out of the lot.

Upon the ride to his place, it was very silent, but at the light just before the turn to his apartment, he looked over at me.

"Do you remember the deal I made with you? The one when I told you that I would stop having sex with you until we were together again?"

"Yes," I started, "I remember you telling me that you wouldn't have sex with me until after we were together. But I don't remember the deal."

"The deal was that if I ever asked you for sex before we were together, I would sign the divorce papers no questions asked." he said.

"Ok, yes, I do recall that deal," I said smirking, but the smirk quickly faded into a look of anger that shot at him." Is this you saying that you want to move forward with the divorce? To get your rocks off one last time? You stick son of a bitch I should have known you were up to something. Don't you know that I loved you?"

By this point, I was trembling in anger and had a rush of resentment that came over me. He grabbed my hand and I pulled away with tears filling my eyes. How could he do this to me?

"I love you too. And I am 100% committed to you. But don't rush to judgement just yet. You haven't seen what I have in store for you. I'm extending this offer to what awaits my place. You just need to be patient. But I asked you to refresh your mind on our deal." he said so calmly.

I was skeptical of what he said versus what the deal entailed, but he is so methodical and meticulous with his planning of everything, that I had to take that into consideration. I held back my tears and agreed to give him a chance.

When we arrived, he led me inside to one of the most romantic gestures that he ever did. There were rose petals all over the living room, leading to the bedroom, with about a dozen tea candles set around the place, but my favorite mahogany coconut scent filled the entire apartment. I looked back and smiled, and he gestured for me to continue to the bedroom. I walked, following the roses to his bedroom door. To my surprise, the divorce envelope was taped to the door, completely intact, ready to be mailed out, with a note.