Carly
How could he? That bastard of a boyfriend of mine?
Yes, despite living together we both had our freedom. He'd never been unfaithful to me before. Not that I knew of. Neither had I with him. Not with another man, anyway. A woman was different, of course.
My boyfriend had no idea I was bisexual. That was, and is, a side I keep to myself. I love men. Love cock. But I love women, too.
I'm not one of those who chooses one over the other. Both are wonderful in their own way. There are times when I yearn for cock. And there are times when I yearn for pussy. Okay, I confess – given a choice it's the woman who wins every time. But that's getting away from my story.
That bastard of a boyfriend of mine. I threw him out, of course. After all, it's my flat. He could fuck off and find himself someone else. If she was as hot as me, as loyal as me, and could suck his cock as good as I did – well, good luck to him.
Then there was revenge. Not on him. Throwing him out was enough. No, I wanted revenge on the bitch he'd cheated with. I knew her well enough. We were friends, though not good friends. In many ways, she reminded me of me. As sexy as hell. And I knew she preferred women as well as men. The beauty was – her husband didn't know me at all. Perfect. Revenge, part one.
I met him in a bar. By accident, of course. We just bumped into each other one Friday night. He spilt my drink. Accidentally, of course. Bought me another. After that, he went back to his mates. But he kept looking over. And I kept looking back. I had him hooked.
Later, I asked if he'd walk me to my car. It would only take a moment, I said. How prophetic those words were. I fucked him in the car park. He couldn't resist. What man would? They're all the same when you get down to it. He came quickly.
'When I said it wouldn't take a moment, I didn't expect you to cum that quickly,' I told him. It was a nice exclamation mark to end the moment.
My car wasn't in the car park, of course. Not that one. I walked away from him leaving him confused, puzzled, and spent.
Now for revenge, part two. The next night. A group of us were out together. Girls night out. Including Carly. She flirted throughout the night, of course. Two timing bitch. I couldn't drink, of course. I was on antibiotics for a chest infection.
At least, what's what I told her. It meant I could give some of the girls a lift home. Including Carly. And – of course – I made sure she was the last one in the car.
She was well intoxicated, of course. Nothing new there. Naturally, she invited me in. And naturally, she flirted. I don't think she expected me to come on as strong. It took her by surprise. But she responded just as strongly. As expected.
We were naked when her husband arrived home. She'd told me he'd be back around midnight, but it was a good half an hour later before he made his appearance. That should have been a frustration for me. My plan was simply to let him find Carly and I making out, then leave.
Instead, his wife and I enjoyed each other's body for much longer than I expected. That wasn't the frustration I expected. This was my revenge on her. And her husband. What I hadn't expected was that she'd be such a hot bitch and how much I'd enjoy myself.
Which brings me to now.
Carly had phoned me twice since then, asking to meet. To talk. She had no idea I'd set it up for her husband to find us. Nor did she have any idea I'd fucked him the night before. And if I'd thought my plan would fuck up her marriage, I was wrong. Okay, I'm a vindictive bitch. But she'd screwed my boyfriend – and my relationship with him.
Meet for a drink, she'd said. To talk about things. At first, I dismissed it out of hand. I'd done what I'd done. Had my revenge, such as it was. Now, I was looking for a fresh start.
The problem was that, after I'd thought about it, I began to feel horny. For her. I remembered the way her body looked. The uninhibited way she'd pleasured me. The way her voice warbled when she came. Suddenly, I realised that I was turned on by the thought of seeing the bitch again. In short, I wanted her.
When she phoned me a second time, I made a pretence of saying no again. Then – reluctantly, naturally – gave in. Yes, I'd meet her for a drink. Maybe a quick one.
Her voice seemed to drip with lust when she heard me agree.
I'll tell you what,
she'd said.
I'll pick you up at yours. After all, you gave me a lift last time. Shall we say eight o'clock?
Jeans and tee-shirt, I told myself. Casual. No bra.
At half seven, I was just out of the shower. That's when my bell rang. It couldn't be her. Not half an hour early. We girls didn't do that. Not unless… Was she hoping to catch me before I'd dressed? Make sure I invited her inside?
God, but she looked hot. Her wavy red hair framed a face that had that aroused, mischievous, wicked smile I'd seen before.
