Page 15 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

In the end, I had to learn to bite my tongue because my well-intentioned interference made life even more unbearable for the unfortunates she targeted with her acerbic mouth. The unwarranted verbal attacks sometimes became physical, especially when other females were involved.

Her treatment of people was alien to me, more so when I come from a life where ours are treated like an extension of our own family.

Sophia and I aren’t compatible. We will never be compatible.

I made it clear to her then that our marriage would only ever be in name only. That she could take it or leave it.

Undeterred, she has attempted to woo me with her feminine charms on several occasions, but, frustratingly for her, her efforts remain unfruitful. I steer clear of whiskey. I steer clear of her.

History will never be repeated.

I wrongly assumed that her brother would put a gun to my head to make me perform my husbandly duties, but our lack of intimacy is of no interest to him.

On the rare occasions he and I have spoken, it quickly became apparent that he wanted to add a Duster to his family for political purposes rather than procreational ones, given that any resultant offspring would be an O’Connell and not a Ruocco.

That may all change, of course. This family likes to move the goalposts.

“I’ll start packing,” I answer dismissively before looking out the window.

She knows our conversation is now at an end. That she can fuck off and do some more shopping on her Duster credit card.

Once she’s gone, I sit at my desk.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I realize it’s not helping my healing. That it’s only dragging me back into the past and filling me once more with foolish hopes and pipe dreams. With wishful thinking that I could change things.

But I can’t change things. There’s no do-over to be had.

I cheated on Jaine, and this existence is my deserved comeuppance. Once more, I stare at the image before printing it off and placing the hard copy inside my phone case.

12 Years Earlier (Age Nineteen)

Yale University, Connecticut

We’re in her room, lying on her bed, and partaking in my new favorite thing to do.

Kissing Jaine Jones.

Being allowed to put my tongue in her mouth makes it taste all the sweeter. And right now, that appendage wants unrestricted access to that little pussy of hers.

We’re being sensible. We’ve done our work, and now it’s playtime.

Fortunately, she doesn’t have to share her room with any other students, and she’s also chosen me to be her study partner.

Win-win.

With my mouth still on hers, I gently roll her onto her back before prizing her thighs apart with my hips and grinding my hard-on against her. It’s met with a soft whimper.

Result.

Pushing her top up, I expose her pink, pebbled nipples. My mouth drops to taste one, and then the other, and my reward is her instinctively raising her hips to silently beg for more.

She’s aroused. She wants me as much as I want her. And let me tell you, I have never wanted a girl as much as I want Jaine Jones right now.

My dick is so fucking hard that it hurts.

I grind against her once more, rewarded this time with short fingernails digging into my back. Slowly dropping my hand, I reach for the button of her pants.

If I could reach third base… but just when I think my luck’s finally in, she pushes me off and snaps her legs closed—locked out of heaven once more.

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