Mega-Bitch

When Adam showed me the final draft – in a hotel room – I was very pleased. I just had to make sure that I was never caught fucking another guy and I'd make out like a bandit if Jonathon and I divorced for any other reason. "You deserve a treat for your good work, Adam," I said in my most sultry voice as I fished out his cock and kissed it. After I rode him cowgirl to an explosive orgasm I got dressed.

As I was leaving the room Adam – still in bed in a mild stupor – said "You know that you've ruined sex with my wife – she can't compete with you."

"Just pretend that you're fucking me when you're pumping into her," I replied with a smirk, and then exited.

After I signed the pre-nup without looking at it Jonathon said "That's not the way to do business, Amy – you should read everything you sign."

"This isn't business, Jonathon, this is a relationship. I never would have agreed to marry you if I didn't trust you. Just assure me that there are mutual infidelity clauses, and email a copy to my business advisor so that he has it in his records," I responded, and then gave him a series of smiling kisses on his lips, cheek, and neck.

****************

I resigned from the event planning company, took over planning of the wedding myself with the help of a colleague there, and demanded that Jonathon give me a budget. "$200,000" he said, about half of what Merilee's cost. "Too much," I replied, "$125,000 max because you don't have to pay me and I don't have as expensive of tastes as Merilee does."

"Don't skimp," he chuckled.

"Hardly," I said.

My wedding to Jonathan Jenkins went off without a hitch too, with Merilee as my matron of honor and Estelle as my only bridesmaid. Jonathan insisted on fifty more guests at the last minute so it cost $175,000, but he was happy.

Before the wedding I had negotiated something else with him. "Jonathon, I intend to do lots of charity work, and I also want to be able to buy things that I want, so I want an allowance of $5,000 a month."

He looked at me with surprise. "Amy, I've been impressed with the way that you handle money but I'm putting my foot down here. I'm putting $1,500,000 in an account in your name only which will be your mad money for the next ten years, not some miserly $5,000 a month. This time, no arguments – give it away for all I care."

Another situation where the less I asked for the more I got. I made sure that Jonathon was amply rewarded that night.

******************

Obviously I had no intention of fucking only Jonathon when I was married. Although he was fine in bed, I needed more vigor and variety. However, even cheating skanks like me have rules. These were mine:

-I never refuse Jonathon sex

-I make sure to remain anonymous with my paramours

-I never, ever, say anything bad about Jonathon to anyone and cancel with a paramour whenever there is a conflict with Jonathon

-I never, ever, fuck anyone that he knows; in fact I never even flirt with them, especially not his bodyguards, Andre, and Merilee's husband

-I fuck not only just married guys, but ones who have something else to lose

-I only communicate through code on burner phones with paramours and change phones every two weeks

-I had a tech whiz reprogram the GPS in my car so that it says that I am or was anywhere that I want it to say

-I had a special room constructed at a women's shelter that I use whenever I want to, with a separate hidden entrance

-I have a collection of wigs, actor's makeup, and nose putty, and dowdy clothes that I keep under lock and key in a safe in the trunk of my car that I use when I need to change my appearance; and

-I have a checklist of things – in code – that I go over just like the pilot of a plane both before and after every session with a fuck buddy.

I have a conceal carry permit for a .25 ACP Taurus pistol with a blue finish with rosewood grip to handle any situation, and I know how to use it. Actually I have two such guns, the registered one – which I keep in the safe in my trunk – and an identical off-the-street unregistered one which I carry in any situation where I won't be checked for a gun.

The six years that I have been married to Jonathon have been fantastic; I love my life. I have all the material possessions and social standing that anyone could possibly want. I get real satisfaction by doing volunteer work for women's organizations and being worshipped by Jonathon. I have a truly good friend in Merilee. I am completely sexually satisfied, averaging fucking about six different guys each year that I have been married to Jonathon. My most memorable experiences were three sessions a week with a famous local professional football player during two different off-seasons, a two sessions a week experience with a local famous professional baseball player for six months, and four truly dirty sessions with a professional dancer.

I made a mistake a couple of weeks ago. I ran across a truly good-looking stud who was single, and made an exception to my rules and fucked him. He had a thick cock that he really knew how to use, and expertly ate me. The problem was that he saw my photo in the local newspaper when I got an award at a charity event that I could not slink out of – I normally try to remain behind the scenes. The next time that we met – at an out-of-the-way motel off a highway that had no video cameras and where people kept to themselves, after we fucked once he wanted my ass.

"No fucking way, dude, I told you that before – what about 'no fucking way' don't you understand?"

"Well, that was before I knew that you were Amy Jenkins, socialite and multi-millionaire, who just received an award for her dedication to women's charities in our fine city. There are going to be a lot of things that we re-negotiate in view of that, sweet cheeks," he said with a sneer. Then he growled "Now get that sweet ass over here."

"You really are going to blackmail me?" I asked. "I thought that you liked fucking me."

"I love fucking you; you're my best ever. But now I can get more from you both sexually and monetarily," he said as he moved his fingers together in a "cash" gesture.

I shrugged my shoulders. "OK, but let me get some KY out of my purse," I said as he chuckled. I pulled out my Taurus, stuck a pillow on the muzzle to muffle the sound, and put three bullets in his forehead.

I removed the sheets and pillows from the bed and brought them in a plastic bag to the trunk of my car, washed down all surfaces in the room, rubbed down his body with alcohol taking particular care to wash any of my pussy juice off of his cock and tongue, rinsed out his mouth with mouthwash, and then started the mattress on fire. I called 911 on my new burner phone when I was about a mile away.

I was suddenly filled with remorse. "Shit; I really liked this gun and phone and now I have to dispose of both of them," I cursed under my breath.