Page 35 of Dirty Rotten Cheating Husband

That should be me in there making her moan like that.

I burned with a jealous anger.

Clementine was mine!

That should be me in there with her, me pleasuring her, laying her down and fucking her, hard and fast, then slow and leisurely.

And it would have been if I hadn’t been such a selfish asshole. She had never denied me when I reached for her.

“Oh yes! Right there,” Clementine groaned. “Just like that.”

Holy fucking hell, I had never wanted anything so badly in my life as I wanted to be the one making her say that. This jackass was the luckiest man in the world to be able to get that sound out of her.

My cock was hardening just remembering what she had looked like when I used to be the one who got to fuck her. How sweet her kisses were.

“Harder!” she squealed.

It was like a vice clamped around my heart, squeezing me tighter and tighter until I could barely breathe.

Harder

Faster

Right there baby

Oh, yes, holy fuck. . .

I thought I was going to fucking die on the sofa when she came, low, deep throaty moans, the sound of flesh on flesh connecting, the jealous fury of hearing him come too.

But wasn’t that how Clementine had felt when she had seen me fucking Vivi?

God, I had been such a colossal dickhead.

I had betrayed her in so many ways.

How could she ever forgive me?

My chest hurt, like I was going to have a goddamn heart attack, even though I was only 44.

Why had I never seen how important she was to me?

Why had I been in such denial?

It wasn’t lack of caring that meant I tried not to think about her. I had to keep those memories hidden because if I ever let myself think about her, I’d shatter.

And now I was shattering.

I had seen my behavior for what it truly was, and myself clearly, for the first time in my life.

I wasn’t working so hard in fraud because I had a personal passion for it, but because I wanted the success, the adulation, the wins.

And I had been willing to do anything to get this big win.

Even though I knew it was wrong.

That was why I had spent most of my marriage to Clementine so tightly wound, trying to drive down my guilt at what I was doing, that I thought fucking Vivi was a release from the mix of sweet pleasure and pain that being around my wife was.

I had to sit up on the couch, put my head between my legs, and clench my fists until the ache in my chest finally went away.

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