The Reunion

This was incredible.

She wasn't hiding that she knew about my descent into a disgrace. And this meant, I mean, did this mean, Meg thought the same about me too? Would I be surprised? Why was I getting an erection again?

Or was it Marla's cynical interpretation of events?

And she wasn't stopping.

"Why are you looking at me like this? Am I keeping you? Is there a place you have to be right now?"

I was looking at her, my mouth open, trying to catch up with her sarcasm.

"Oh, my bad. I know, restroom, right? Duty calls, I guess. Yes, maybe if you hurry..."

That was it, I was about to insult her.

"What are you talking about?" Meg held my arm, leaning against me. She probably saw my face talking to that witch.

"Oh, sorry Meg. My big mouth cost you some mundane, routine fun. I'll buy you a drink to compensate. A cheap one should do..." and walked to the bar.

"What is she talking about?" Meg looked oblivious and sweet.

"What did you tell them?"

She got serious.

"What do you mean?"

"She implied things."

She looked at her and hissed "Of course she did!"

"How can you tell them?"

"Not them. Just Marla. And, she figured it out herself, mostly."

"No. There's more. You told her stuff. About that night, what happened in the restroom." I felt embarrassed again, reminding her that. She made me feel worse, looking at me for a few seconds, with a disturbing smile on her face. She was recalling that night, me and what she made me do in there.

She leaned into me more "If I want to tell them, I tell. By the way, it was very unexpected, the thing you did that night."

"Me? I didn't do anything! You forced..."

"Here's your drink babe. Isn't it chilly tonight? We should've sat at the indoor bar."

Looking in her eyes, I rolled my eyes. I slowly took off my sweatshirt. She was surprised. Meg stepped away, watching me.

I slowly turned to Meg and put my sweatshirt over her shoulders, still looking at Marla.

My effort to annoy her didn't work. She was still smiling, she was happier. I proved her that she could penetrate me, that she hurt me more than she thought. She was right. I wasn't any version of the Jerome I knew, not anymore. I hated her. I wished she froze and died there, in that chilly garden.

Meg only touched me when we were talking about Marla. After that, she maintained her distance.

"Ok, time to go." she said when I had my first sip from the vodka I just got.

"Let me drink this before..."

She took it from my hand, put it on the bar counter and held my hand saying "Bye girls."

She was acting as if I was hers, she was very comfortable about that.

When I was being pulled away, I looked at the girls. Marla was whispering something in Wendy's ear. They both looked at me and smirked.

I'm not a prude guy but as a married man, knowing what those girls thought made me ashamed.

Knowing what happened previously, they knew that I left my wife at home and came to this bar with one call of hers, just to drive her home.

And they clearly knew that 'if' Meg wanted, she was going to satisfy herself using me, before sending me home. This was disgraceful.

She didn't talk during my drive of shame and she didn't still look like she was going to invite me upstairs when we got there.

"Meg?"

"Yes?"

"Can I come?"

"I thought you were complaining about being forced to... Anyway." She reached the door handle. She was leaving. I panicked.

"I didn't say that, I was talking about that incident. I want it. Please let me come. I will leave when you tell me to. I will do whatever you want me to do and leave."

"No. They are home tonight."

I looked at her trying to find something to say. She was watching me and my desperation.

She looked around and said "Why don't you move the car to that dark corner?"

I asked for this.

But I wasn't expecting that. I begged her and she 'accepted' my wish to satisfy her. Without a setting. Without warmup. We weren't drunk like that night.

I did what she said.

She took her left shoe off, turned to me. Leaning against the door, she raised her left foot near my face. I thought she wanted me to kiss her foot. I thought she wanted me to show her my unconditional devotion.

I held it and kissed her sole.

"Oh, in my absence you've grown out to be a complete perv, haven't you?"

I looked at her face, still gently kissing her foot. I didn't understand if she was insulting me or finding this hot.

She impatiently said "Stop doing that, I don't have time"

I was startled by that.

She didn't linger, pulled her skirt up, sliding her panties aside.

She wasn't expecting to get playful; she didn't need to kiss, she didn't care about making out or seeing me kiss her foot.

To me, kissing her foot showed my admiration to her.

She didn't need to see that; she didn't care how I felt for her.

She just wanted my mouth on her pussy again. I started to question the 'I' part as well. Maybe she wanted any mouth on her pussy.

I slowly twisted my body and, in a very uncomfortable position, I started to lick her pussy. It was hard to move my head but I managed to look at her face. She was studying me, watching my discomfort due to my awkward position, enjoying my efforts to pleasure her while she sat comfortably like that.

She probably could guess that my back and neck were hurting but she didn't even move to create some extra room for me.

And I could swear that she extended her pleasure, delaying her orgasm when I was suffering down there, sweating to satisfy her pussy.

When she finally came, I tried to sit back but she didn't let me go.

"No cleaning this time?"

"Oh, Meg." I gasped.

This was torture but she was occupying my brain more and more, being insensitive and cruel like this. And when I was licking her pussy clean, she started to move her hip slowly. I was having trouble to breathe; my neck was killing me. And we were already in the next session.

After countless of minutes in that position, of heaven and hell, she started to fuck my face roughly, moving her hip. Her pelvis was hitting me hard, rearranging my spine with each hit.

When I tried to reposition myself to save my neck, I realized that she pinned me there with her left leg. Her leg was pressing on my back and she was pulling me into her pussy with it. I buckled more. I wanted to scream out of pain but this arousal wasn't less than my pain. When she started to cum in my mouth, I moaned. Like a bitch, I moaned when I was licking her pussy. She was silently cumming, looking at me, smiling smugly, watching me moan like that.

In a minute, she released my grip and let me go. But I didn't go away. I kissed her pussy with love. She patted on my head, reminding me that she was done. I kissed her thigh, leg and her foot, showing my gratitude.

"Meg..." I wanted to declare my love for her again.

"Can I have my foot?"

I didn't want to let it go to but I understood that was a rhetorical question as the sweet, soft thing slipped away from my hand.

I was trying to position myself to kiss her, to feel a bit normal again when she was putting her shoe back on. Before I could kiss her, she said "Bye" and left.

I watched her walk to her building, letting my sweatshirt hug her body and disappear. I wanted to be that sweatshirt. Why was she doing that to me?

And she didn't let me find peace. She didn't let me feel completely forgotten or find a place for myself in this awkward relationship-like thing in the following weeks too.

I heard that she went to a one-on-one dinner with Matt, from one of my friends who saw them. She didn't answer my calls that week. It was obvious that he was her choice, not me.

She played with my emotions for some reason and she was done with me. That was how I was feeling when she called me again.

We went to a movie together. I wondered if there was any expression or explanation for my situation.

She didn't let me hold her hand there. We drank a couple of cocktails in a jazz-lounge, without talking about us. When I dropped her home, she said "Come up, let me give you your sweatshirt."

Was this her line to get me there? To? Did she need a line?

I was following her inside, thinking about these, when she said "Wait, I'll bring it."

She was going to give it to me and send me home.

I felt too deprived of her. I needed something, I didn't care if it was degrading or not. At that moment, I even didn't care if she was having sex with Matt or not. I wasn't thinking anymore. I walked in and stood there in front of her room when she was inside.

I was hoping that she could want a quickie again.

Then, I noticed something near the door. A paper under a few booklets and markers. Handwritten all over it. By different people.

I could read one partial note with a devil emoticon drawing near it 'No mercy! Use M. to make h................at Reunion!!!' partially covered by a book's corner.

'?'

I was trying to read when she pushed me out hurriedly, with the sweatshirt in her hand.

I could see a partial heading-like thing at the top of the page. right above that note, mostly hidden under the corner of another book.

'Re..............ome'

I was looking at her, trying to understand if that note had anything to do with how she acted lately. It said reunion. Her face was pale. It had to be something she needed to hide from me.

"What was that..."

She handed me the sweatshirt and said "So, bye?"

"Can I stay?"

"No, I need to wake up early tomorrow. I'll go on a trip this weekend."

"With whom?"

"I'll call you next week."

She pushed me out. And closed the door while I was still standing there, looking at her.

This broke my heart.

She didn't love me anymore, as I suspected. It was obvious. She was probably going on a trip with him to enjoy it to the limit. She was going to let him enjoy her as a whole. If she didn't already. Nothing else came to my mind.

I slept unhappy. I was unhappy all weekend.

The note was bugging my mind.

'No mercy?' To whom? And it was something about reunion.

What was that heading? '...ome?' Rome? Home? J-Jerome? Was that paper about me?

'Re........... Jerome'

Fuck! 'Revenge on Jerome?' Could that be it? Of course! What else could it be? I'd bet it was Marla's doing.

But it didn't sound serious. As if girls were having fun, writing their revenge fantasies on me, just to entertain Meg.

By the way, I had serious problems. Learning that she had been doing all these just for some evil revenge, made me crave for more. Knowing that she was set to torture me, since the beginning.

But what happened since that day, didn't fit perfectly. I wasn't that sure.

Since I figured out the heading, I wrote the other note down, to find out what it could be. Like an evil puzzle, that was going to show me my fate.

'No mercy! Use M. to make h................at Reunion!'

M? Matt. It was easy.

Use Matt to make h-him... at reunion.

Pay? Nah.

Suffer? Jealous? Which one? If it was one of these, I'd prefer 'jealous'. I decided it was jealous.

Did she do it just to get back at me? So, she had no intentions involving that prick?

Wait. What about after that? Did she find him attractive while role playing?

Those dinners? Vacation and trip, if he was with her in those as well?

No, it wasn't 'jealous', it was 'suffer'. You make someone jealous if you care enough. You don't pour cement over all the possible outcomes or your future with him.

The title said revenge, so they wanted me to suffer. To make me suffer, Meg was going to give herself to Matt. Or she did that already.

Who does that? If she cared that much about avenging me, that also meant I wasn't that insignificant.

More than her cruelty, I was still fixated on the Matt part. How could she do such a thing? Or, that wasn't the initial plan, she changed her mind, she wanted him to fuck her. He became more important than her plan.

Wow. Her idea of revenge was phenomenal.

Use your target's mouth whenever, where ever you wanted to have your revenge, while starting a relationship on the side, with the guy who would make the 'bad guy Jerome' go crazy the most.

I couldn't count the number of wins on her column. And she started doing those while I was trying to stay away from her, just to protect her feelings.

That was unbelievable. Yes, her cruelty was intoxicating but back then, I didn't know she was doing those just to hurt me. I thought she was having a kinky pleasure from hurting my feelings.

I had to save myself from total destruction. Only if I could get her out of my mind.

It was obvious that Meg and her friends' intention was to ruin me completely. No surprise they all smirked that night. They were watching their plan succeed, while I was standing there like an idiot.

I understood how Marla was so happy. She knew Meg humiliated and used me in that stall, just before holding Matt's hand to take him to her bed.

But she already won. Why would they bother for more? For someone who lost all his value?

A few hours later, their plan became clearer. They wanted a complete revenge.

She made me fall in love with her like that and she wasn't giving me any relief. She was driving me crazy, while she was raising above me, occupying my heart, brain and everything in this affair-like thing.

I was sure that they were talking to each other before and after our every meeting.

And I was almost sure that her main goal was to leave me in the most shocking way when I surrendered my life to her completely, laying my marriage under her feet. That had to be their master plan. And I had moments like this, I wanted to lay everything under her feet.

That was very depressing.

And curious.

Who would come up with such a plan?

This time I wasn't asking this question in an agitative way. I was curious. About the technicalities of such a plan.

I mean, who could guess that I was going to fall for her if she was acting cruel, selfish and dominant like this? None of my friends would get horny for such a domination or deprivation trick. They all called me perv for finding such things hot. So, this wasn't that common for them to guess.

Maybe it wasn't a trick.

Maybe she sensed something on the way and she liked to act this way. Maybe my devotion triggered things and she couldn't get enough of exploiting this. She mixed business with pleasure.

So, this had to be my fault.

A few days later, I saw Marla at our bar. She was with some girls I didn't know. I tried to ignore her for a period, especially after seeing her wink at me and smile like that again.

She didn't do it clearly but I can swear she did that pussy licking fingers thing to me, when she acted like she was licking spilled drink from her fingers.

My curiosity, no, my desperation won. I had words but I had to swallow them, I needed to find a cure for my pain.

"Marla."

"Jerome..." She looked at me like I was her lackey or a rat, a dirty one.

"Please. You won."

She was surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"Your plan worked. I lost. I mean I wasn't trying to win anything but you won. I feel devastated. I will do whatever you say, just to win Meg back."

Oh, she was a vicious person. That smile was incredible. She took her time to enjoy this moment, watching my misery. It took a bit too long for her to start talking.

"You can't. I don't think so. She needs a man. A real one."

"Please, I already said you won."

She looked at me for a period. I thought she was going to come to her senses.

"I don't understand what you are asking me. What's that got to do with me? I mean you winning her back. Which sounds ridiculous, by the way."

"I know about your plan. I saw the paper."

"What?" She finally stopped smirking. I could see the panic in her eyes, she knew she did something bad and got caught. And she knew she was talking to someone who looked unstable. It was obvious that she was intimidated.

"I know the 'Revenge Jerome' thing. You already accomplished that. I caved and I accept Meg and her girls' superiority over me."

She was evil. Her panic was gone. This time I could swear she got wet down there, due to some twisted pleasure she found in this. She loved every word of it.

And, this last smirk made the previous ones look cute.

"Oh, she really broke you. I love this. If she didn't brand you with her name, I'd take you to the restroom now."

I hoped my arousal didn't show on my face.

Not because of picturing myself in the stall, pleasuring this bitch. 'Being branded' by Meg, like an animal in her livestock, belonging to her, that was what aroused me.

Also, it was also arousing how this bitch was confident that she could drag me there to use me, only if she decided to do so. I guessed Meg really broke me; she was right. I wasn't in the healthy 'kinky' zone anymore. This was serious.

"Please, Marla."

She laughed hysterically "Are you begging me to take you to the restroom? No, I won't do it."

When her laughter was over, she stared at me a few seconds, seeing how I was getting impatient, she got cold again.

"Matt proposed to her. And she's considering." She was so happy when she broke the news, watching my expression in delight.

"What? Meg? With him? Marriage?"

"I guess it's Jen's fault. She dated him for a period. When we asked her how she could do such a thing, she told us about his never-ending appetite. And his big thingy. Which he knew how to use."

I froze there. I wasn't concerned about bed-time skills of that idiot. Not at that moment.

But Meg? Interested in some asshole because of such qualities? Was she dating him for that? For him to fuck her good? What happened to her?

"I guess Meg already verified Jen's pitch at her trip with him." I could say.

This might have sounded like I was trying to learn if they went together but I didn't wait for an answer. I left the bar.

At home, I was in plant mode when Meg called the next morning. I had no resisting power to anything, I was sitting there like a prop, without thinking anything in particular.

"I heard about your conversation with Marla."

"Ok."

I wasn't acting cool. I was dead inside. Living in that house felt like prison to me after everything. I realized being alive was something else. I realized being loved was a precious thing. My wife didn't even notice anything during those last weeks or months. Not my guilt, not my sadness, not my desperation. Our marriage looked like it already left the building.

And, I realized that I lost all my hope, motivation to be happy again. Thanks to Meg and her gang.

I knew I wanted something more in life.

That 'more' was Meg. Since Meg wasn't an option, I was stuck in that prison. I just didn't have the energy to do something about this.

"I'm alone at home. Come."

"I won't come. You won. I can't be unhappier."

There was a short silence, I was about to hang up. I didn't want her to hurt me more. I was scared of the things she could say to make me jealous or want her more. I didn't want to play.

"No. I didn't win. I'm not even close to winning. Not yet. I'm waiting."

'Not even close'? Was she planning to suck my blood too?

I still didn't know what I did to deserve such a grudge.

But even in this short conversation, hearing that she wasn't done with me, made the possibility of being inflicted more pain sound better than sitting at home like that. One more time, probably for the last time, I could bear that agony.

"If you're not done playing with me, Ok. I can't say no to you."

"Ok."

She just said 'Ok' and hung up.

It was incredible. She had no mercy for me.

When I was at her house, she was wearing some mundane shorts, a t-shirt and that was all. She was bare feet. I sat down and watched her prepare us Campari and soda. She sat across me, tasted it and crossed her legs, looking at me, dangling her dainty foot.