As the old saying goes: Hell has no fury as a woman scorned. Well, I'm here to tell you I'm a living testament.
I'm Rita Farnsworth formerly Rita Atkinson. I married my ex, Rex Atkinson, during my sophomore year in college. Rex requested that I drop out of school and become a housewife. Like the fool I was, I did as he requested. I was in love.
Rex had graduated two years prior and was on his way at the Morrison Advertising Company. A Madison Avenue firm in New York City. We had a second story walk up flat near the Village and all was good, or so I thought.
At first, we fucked like rabbits. Rex couldn't seem to get enough of me. I loved his big thick cut cock. I worked hard to develop the skills to deep throat it. I even developed a taste for his bittersweet cum. There was nothing I would not do for him, including giving up my ass.
Little did I know Rex was a womanizer on a gigantic scale, but in time, I would find out.
Six months after we were married, Rex received a promotion at work that would require travel. This was the first time since we started dating, that I would go days without being fucked by Rex. But when he returned home, he would make up for it, and fuck me senseless.
I should have suspected something when I contracted Gonorrhea or better known as the Clap. But I was naΓ―ve, and accepted his excuse that it can be picked up from a toilet seat, and he undoubtedly picked it up on one of his trips. The only thing true was he did pick it up on one of his trips. With the magic of penicillin, I soon forgot about Gonorrhea.
I began thinking of starting a family, but Rex wanted to hold off. I reluctantly agreed. Over time, Rex began fucking me less and less. I was feeling down and low. How I missed all the great sex.
I knew how much Rex loved sex and could not believe he did not want any. My suspicions were being aroused. I was so suspicious, I decided to hire a Private Detective. I was convinced, since my horny hubby was not getting it at home, he was getting it elsewhere.
I found an ad in the yellow pages of the phone book for the Anderson and Coombs Detective Agency in midtown Manhattan and made an appointment. When I arrived, I was ushered into the office of Richard Anderson by a tall statuesque secretary named Millie.
"Mrs. Atkinson to see you," Millie said.
"Come in have a seat Mrs. Atkinson. You can call me Dick. What can I do for you?" Richard Anderson said.
"Well Mr. Anderson," Rita started to say.
"Uh, just call me Dick," Richard Anderson interrupted.
"Okay Dick, I suspect my husband is cheating on me." Rita said.