"I don't fucking believe this shit!" Jay shouted at the top of his lungs, slamming the front door behind him.
Casually, I glanced up from my comfortable seat on the couch at the angry gent in front of me as he stepped through the pile of dirty clothes strewn about the living room floor. They were all his, of course. They had been sitting out like that all day and I was the one who did it. It was the only "chore" around the house I did that did, and I didn't give a damn. So with feet propped up on the coffee table and my legs crossed, I idly filed my nails as I watched him trip and cuss all the way over to me.
"You lazy bitch!" he screamed at me, finally pausing in front of the coffee table, glaring down at me with those bright baby blues of his, trying to intimidate me as usual. "You couldn't even get off your fat ass today and do my fucking laundry like I asked? Instead you're just sitting here, filing your damn nails, throwing a fucking tantrum like a big ass baby?" He threw his hands up in the air, showing off the delicious muscles in his arms from all the heavy lifting he did at his construction job each day and rolled his eyes. "Un-fucking-believable!"
I didn't say a word. Instead, I just returned to filing my nails as he continued to bore holes through me with such intense fury that I had to look away. Hmph! I thought as I continued to pamper myself. That will teach him to treat me like a fucking slave.
Last night, we had a huge fight about my new role as his stay-at-home girlfriend. According to him, he "rescued" me from my stripper job, which paid a whole hell of a lot more than his not so stable construction job. Since I didn't want to go to college and I didn't have any other talent outside of shaking my ass on stage or fucking the shit out of him, then he decided that I should just stay at home. After I gave up my job for him, we moved in together a couple of months ago, and ever since we've been at each other's throats over EVERY little thing, especially my keeping up the house skills, which I am more than woman enough to admit I have none. It's not like it was a surprise to him at all. I told him in the beginning before he even gave me a key to his place that I didn't know how to fucking clean. I made enough money to where all I had to do was call up a maid once or twice a week to take care of all my shit. Now here I was, living on a third of the income I used to make with another person who ate like a damn horse and he was expecting me to become Florence Henderson overnight. Whatever.
I heard him let out a deep sigh before speaking to me again. This time, his voice was a lot calmer, but still full of frustration with a hint of anger behind it. "Look, Crystal," he began, running his big, calloused hands over his faded blonde head before letting them meet up with his mouth and taking another deep breath before continuing his spiel, "I'm trying really hard to be patient with you, but-" he looked around the place with his arms opened wide and shook his head in utter amazement at my slothfulness "-you're not even fucking trying anymore. There are dishes piled up in the sink, trash is overflowing in the bins, dirty laundry is all over the place, and - and this place is just one big huge, fucking mess! I can't take it anymore!"
"So, what are you trying to say, Jay?" I asked, waiting to hear him tell me to leave, because as soon as he uttered those words, I was so fucking out of here. "I told you before we even moved in together that I didn't know how to be a stay-at-home girlfriend. I've never had to cook, clean, or wash my own shit before, and you know this, yet you told me you'd help me, but you always come in here after work tired and not wanting to do anything but fucking yell at me!"
"But you said you'd at least fucking trying, and today all you did was move all my dirty laundry from the bedroom into the damn living room!" he barked back at me. "My friends were right! I should have never let you move in! You can't turn a fucking hoe into a housewife!"
That was it. I stood up and threw the nail file down on the floor. I was so tired of him calling me out my name and treating me like less than a human being that I was done. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I was so hurt and tired that my mind was completely discombobulated. Besides, I was so done arguing with him all the time that it wasn't even worth my time. I pulled down the short barely there white spaghetti strap satin nightie I'd been wearing all down and stomped out of the room and down the hall until I got to our bedroom. "Fucking asshole!" I griped as I threw open the closet door and pulled out my bright pink suitcase. I tossed it on top of the unmade bed and unzipped. Then, I raced over to the dresser and opened the top drawer where all of my intimates were. I picked up an armful and tossed them into the empty suitcase before returning to the drawer where there was more waiting for me.
I didn't even hear Jay enter the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice still full of annoyance as I continued to pack.
"What does it look like?" I sniffled, upset with myself for even crying. "I'm leaving your stupid ass!"
"Where are you going to go?" he cynically asked, obviously taking me lightly like always.
"Don't worry about it, dickhead!" I cried, even more pissed off at him than before. I couldn't fucking believe him! This whole thing was nothing but a big, fat joke to him! "I'll go back to my job and find someone to replace you in no time! I don't need a fucking loser like you to be my sugar daddy anymore!" It was while I was stuffing more of my things into the suitcase that I felt his strong arms wrapped around me. "Let go of me!" I cried, struggling to break free of him, but he was too strong. Or maybe it was that I really didn't want him to let me go that I didn't struggle nearly as hard as I knew I could? He pressed his body against me, and almost instantly I felt his huge, rock hard erection pushing through his pants against my ass, and I was so turned on that I stopped struggling as much. I was still pissed at him, so as he held me, I cried out again, "Let me go, asshole!"
"No," he breathily replied, the warm air from his mouth tickling the back of my neck and making the seat of my pants curdle like cheese. "I won't let you go." Lightly, he pressed his lips against that spot on my neck that always sent me over the edge with him, and it only pissed me off all the more that I was so weak against him. The bastard! "You're not going anywhere. You belong to me." I laid my head back against his broad shoulder as he licked the side of my neck. His hands roughly manhandled my breasts, and the flimsy little nightie I was wearing was already slinking off of my body from the activity. "You're my lazy little bitch, and I'm not going to give you to anyone else."
