Bimbofying the Busty Cheating Ex
Bill Crest
I jumped into the cab of my truck. My gaze flicked to the front door, my hands gripping the steering wheel. The vinyl covering creaked as my fists twisted on it. I should have decked that little fucker in there who bimbofied my daughter, Barbie.
I should have broken his damned nose, but...
There was nothing I could do about Barbie being a whore now. She was lost. Hell, I had paid all the spare cash I had to ram my cock into her pussy and dump my cum into her mouth, pussy, and asshole. I had enjoyed Barbie way more than any father could.
I had used her.
I was fucking weak.
I couldn't do anything about my baby girl. She had turned into a whore. Not surprising given who her mother was. There was a whore. A fucking cheating slut who couldn't keep her thighs closed. At least Barbie had the excuse of being turned into an air-headed bimbo by the App.
I had three ex-wives, and they were all cunts. But Jennifer, Barbie's mother, was the worst. My first ex-wife. Jennifer had been my high school sweetheart. We were supposed to build a family and all that shit. While I was busting my ass laying bricks, she was busying laying pipe.
Caught that whore with the mailman. "Surprise, honey, I'm home early from work."
Barbie was crying in her crib as that slut was getting her back blown out by the mailman. I still can't believe
I
was the one arrested for whooping that shithead's ass. Me! That's the justice this world had.
Patti was number two. I had been married to her the longest. But she wanted kids, and I had my fill of that with Barbie. She was hell-bent on having kids, so she slapped divorce papers on me and was married to a guy from her work before the ink was dry. Fucking slut had him waiting in the wings.
Wife number three was barely older than Barbie. A stripper I had met on the rebound from Patti. I had married that nineteen-year-old trollop two years ago and divorced her six months ago. She was crazy hot.
And fucking crazy.
They all had to fucking pay, but It was Jennifer that I would start with. I detested that fucking skank. She bought herself big tits with
my
child support payments. She had custody, yet I was the one taking care of Barbie while the government fleeced my paychecks to give to her.
They still did.
I hated her more than any woman I had been with. That fucking little whore needed to learn her place. She was supposed to be
my
wife. Well, she was about to learn, wasn't she? I had the App now. That little shit who took my baby girl had given it to me.
"Fuck," I growled, my anger still boiling. But not much to do. Barbie was gone. She was his. If I wanted to see her, I had to pay to pound her cunt.
God, she had a tight cunt. Like Jennifer had at that age.
I turned the corner and drove down the street. Jennifer's latest boyfriend lived on this street. The latest man she'd latched onto. She got her mouth on his cock and, like a leech, would suck him dry until she was ready to move on to some other sap.
I pulled up to the house and jumped out of my car. I held my phone in my hand. I marched up to the front door and threw it open. I stepped into the living room. The TV was on some daytime soap. There were several beer cans. Coors Lite.
Her favorite.
"Oh, look at that!" the whore gasped from the bedroom. She was getting reamed right now.
"Fucking whore," I growled as I headed down the hallway.
"Oh, damn," a guy groaned.
I reached the half-open bedroom door. I shoved it open to find my ex-wife's naked ass aimed right at me, her shaved cuntlips dripping with juices. At least she kept herself tight. She was forty and sexy. Her blonde hair swayed as she bobbed her head on a guy's cock.
Not her boyfriend's cock, either. Course she was cheating on that poor sap in his own home.
"Holy shit!" gasped the guy, jumping.
Jennifer ripped her mouth off his cock and whipped her head around, her blonde hair half-obscuring her face. Her big, fake tits swayed. They were large and plump. She at least had a quality boob job done.
"Hey, man!" gasped the weaselly guy she was blowing. "I don't want any trouble. Your wife... She invited me over."
"I'm not her fucking boyfriend," I said. "I'm her ex. That poor simp has no fucking idea that you're here. So take a fucking hike. I have business with the slut."
Jennifer glared daggers at me as her current boytoy, probably the one she was moving onto next, grabbed his jeans and shirt. He pushed past me and darted out of the house. I folded my arms across my chest, grinning at my ex.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jennifer asked. She hopped off the bed, not caring she was naked. "Huh? Just barging in here! You scared him off! Asshole! I'm going to call the police and have you arrested for attempted rape! Yeah! I'll say you came in here, ripped off my clothes, and were going to rape me!"
"So that fucking pathetic simp that ran off can come to your rescue?" I asked. "Or the poor fucking idiot that you're dating doesn't find out you're a cheating ho-bag screwing around on him while he's at work."
"I'm going to do it because you're the biggest fucking dickhead, Bill!" she snarled. "You have no fucking business barging in here! I'm not your wife! I fucking dumped your ass."
"Yes, you did," I said and grinned. "I'm here to get you back."
She snorted. "Like I want to be yours again." She looked me up and down and, like the randy vixen she was, lust blossomed in her eyes. "Though you do still got that body. Construction... You might be a meathead, but you could fuck. Fine, you want a pity lay, you got it."
I raised the phone. "Jennifer, you're about to be my cock-loving little slut. You'll do whatever
I
want. I'm about to own your ass."
She posed. "Take the video. I don't care. My boyfriend won't believe it. He's thicker than you were. You won't ruin anything. He won't believe my ex."
I winked at her and tapped the screen. Then I tapped