It was cold outside when I woke up in that manipulative cunt's bed. I had no sheets on, a rash from sleeping in the wet spot, a sore asshole, and a sinking feeling I shouldn't have just done that with my ex-wife. That was a fucked-up night to be sure, I left the dive bar that had become my home away from home, and went to my shitty apartment pretty drunk. My phone rang and I wondered who in the hell makes phone calls these days. Just send me a god damned text and I'll ignore it until I wake up with a splitting headache. I am drunk on tequila, Jager, and God knows what else. So, like a fucking moron, I answer the call.
"Hey, babe, it's me kitty." I knew who it was believe me. That voice is burned into my brain like a severe case of syphilis. At the end of our marriage, I was used to hearing that voice really fucking loud, and it wasn't calling me babe. It was more like 'drunk piece of shit', or 'drunk asshole'. Usually, it was a harsh defense after I caught her texting some guy that she met at the bar or at her salon. All of a sudden, I'm the loser who drinks too much or passes out when she's sitting on her phone. Never mind that she's talking to another man.
I'm a tolerant guy. I don't get hysterical and jealous. I tried to give her space, and if she wanted to flirt with other men and get her ego stroked, that was fine with me. After all, I was doing the same thing with women. I guess the difference is when the women asked to hookup, I didn't oblige. Kitty on the other hand, she was all over it. Of course, I didn't know about it for a long time. Then was the accidental look at her phone, over her shoulder one evening.
I was trusting and didn't spy on her, or tried not to root through her phone. I was walking up behind her and not trying to be sneaky, after all, I was about 5 whiskies deep. I was definitely not stealthy. She obviously had no idea I was there. The pair of tits, that looked just like hers, taking up the screen was hard to miss. I was a little jolted and I watched her texting someone. Sending a picture of her tits, followed shortly by one of her spread open pussy. I hadn't ever seen these pics. She would send me stuff like this too, when I was working, just to tease me. These were clearly taken for and meant for someone else. I freaked out and shit got ugly. She was great as gaslighting. It was just a little 'you show me yours, I'll show you mine' fun. There was nothing else going on. Bullshit! As usual she would calm me down with some super dirty sex. She would let me do anything I wanted to her body. Anywhere I wanted to stick it. And let's face it, for all of her flaws, looks are not one of them. Frankly, she's heart-stopping sexy. After that night, I became a god damn private eye. That's when shit started to unravel. Oh well, it's over now, and has been for about eighteen months.
This random, late-night phone call from Kitty was not an unusual occurrence. Like I said, she really loves her ego stroked, and when there's no one left to put up with her bullshit, it's me she contacts. She was trying really hard to be sweet and told me some bullshit sob story about something, I don't know, I wasn't listening. Through tears she begged me to come over. She was relentless, flirty, and obviously convincing to a drunken fool.
"Alright, take it easy." I commanded. I poured myself back into my wildly uncool, four-door Caprice, and swerved my way over to her condo. A condo, which by the way, was paid for by me in our divorce, and is a fuck lot nicer than the shit hole I inhabit. Luckily, we never had kids. I'm glad we didn't have to drag some poor kid into our high-speed shit storm. The devil knows the world has enough of those kids. Kitty and I are those kids. She met me at the door with a 7 & 7 in one of the highball glasses that used to be mine, knowing booze is the key to getting me to cooperate. I was too blitzed to realize she was up to something. I'm a sucker for her beauty, even when I'm pissed out of my tree. She looked good. Her hair was perfect, as usual. She has expensive tattoos and a Medusa piercing that makes me weak in the knees. Plus, her sweet fake tits were sticking out of the top of her low-cut, blank tank top. She kept bending over pretending to fuck with something on the floor, just to give me a great view of them.
"Can we talk, like we used to?" she asked in a soft voice.
Unfortunately, I got sucked in. I'm sure the booze had everything to do with that. Somewhere in the one-sided conversation, I was glassy eyed and bored, and she leaned forward and kissed me. The thing about our marriage, you see, is that it was based purely on sex. I guess that's what happens when you marry a slut with no brains. Normally, a marriage filled with amazing sex is bound to be great, but when the sex isn't always with your husband, that's when the shit hits the fan.
She was kissing me, passionately, the way she used to. My judgment was more than just poor, and I began kissing back. At this point, I really wanted to see those huge tits that I bought her a few years ago, so I yanked her top off, and out they bounced. I forgot how stunning they were, she has this sort of year-round tan, so her nipples are this great shade of pinkish brown. With little more than a thought, I found myself sucking one nipple, which the piercing made taste like a set of house keys. While pulling pretty hard, maybe a little too hard, on the other nipple. She was rubbing my boner through the tight shorts that I had just gotten, on sale, at TJ Maxx.
Before I really knew what was happening, my gristle missile was in her hand. Getting her out of her expensive, designer jeans was no problem. When she wiggled them off of her well-shaped hips, I instantly remembered why I get so mesmerized by her. She has a big fat ass. It's flawless. DaVinci couldn't have sculpted something better. She is built like an average woman, with the exception of that ass. I'm surprised she doesn't have to buy special pants to fit it, I'm not kidding. It's outstanding. Her red thong panties were tight around her voluptuous ass, cutting in at the hips. I was, once again, completely under her spell. She asked me to get undressed and go to the bedroom. I knocked back what was left of my Seagram's 7 and trailed after her. Her round ass wiggled as she walked in front of me. Her shoulder length brown hair danced delicately on her slim neck, and I realized I was going to have to fuck her, there was no stopping me now.
We entered the dim light, of what used to be our bedroom, which is now her bedroom. I grabbed her by the soft, squishy hips. She was kissing me; I probably tasted like the world's worst cocktail. I worked my hands around her big bum and grabbed a handful. It was just like I remembered it, so round, sticking out there so bubbly. My enraged, engorged meat was begging my foggy, drunk brain for a shot at her. Naturally, my brain was in no shape to argue. I knocked her backward onto the big king-sized bed, messing up her pricey duvet, and flipped her quickly over onto her stomach. I ripped her panties off like a fucking bad ass. I get pretty impressed with myself when I'm drunk. It isn't until the hangover, then next day, that I realize that I'm not as cool as I think I am.
Her perfect ass was sticking straight up at me and I stuck my face between her huge cheeks, and began licking the masterpiece like it was a federal law. There was no way I was sober enough to wonder how clean it was. That kind of thinking went out the window 4 hours ago. I could feel her hand below my chin, hard at work, presumably rubbing her slutty pussy. I was eating her beautiful ass and grabbing it with both hands. The feeling of her soft skin squishing between my fingers, while my tongue lapped at the wrinkled opening, was sublime. I was back where I belong, between those soft, ample cheeks. It was paradise, but there's a complicated mix of lust and hate. I can't just forget all the cruel things she said and did to me. But I also can't forget the fun days, the wild sex days, the all or nothin' days. I was taking my time, drinking in the moment. She began wriggling and reaching over to her nightstand and then suddenly, she shot some greasy lube out of a tube, and all over her asshole. She was pushing the lube up her ass with a couple of fingers, interrupting my nirvana.
"Fuck me in the ass" she panted.
She always did love anal, and that obviously, hasn't changed. She would convince her friends that they 'just had to try it'. Inevitably they would, and report back how great it felt. She probably loved anal so much because it was the only hole she could feel it in. Slut.
I slid my whisky infused prick up her ass. It was damn tight and I really hoped it hurt her a little. A little grudge fuck was exactly what I needed. I began hammering her colon. I didn't bother easing into the hard thrusts, I just went for it. My tight balls were slapping up against her wet cunt, while she played with her little clit. I worked her over pretty hard, and unfortunately, she seemed to be enjoying it. She could take an ass pounding, that's for sure. She would shove her fat ass back against my pelvis, trying to sink my bone deeper in her asshole. I was trying to make it hurt. I was really aggressive and definitely didn't have as much lube as I should have. I whisky dicked her butthole until I was out of breath and sweating. After a thorough hogging out of her back door, which was far tighter than the front door, I pulled out of her ass and wiped my dick off on her pillow. That'll teach the bitch. Her well used asshole sort of turned inside out. Part of her insides were becoming outsides. It looked like a little rose trying to sneak out, and I thought how it was pretty gross, but also very hot.
