Julie and I had a volatile, love/hate relationship almost from the moment we hooked up. That first night we met in the club we ended up fucking like animals in the alley beside it and that was only moments after I had been arguing with her.
For my part the problem was she was so damned sexy. She had a body built for sin (light brown shoulder length hair, a cute smile that easily melted into a dirty smirk, a slim yet curvaceous, toned body) and a mind that more than matched it. It was hard to get past how fucking good looking and how kinky she was. Even allowing for what a fucking bitch she was.
And she was a mega bitch. Julie was stuck up, thought she was better than everybody else and was selfish and self absorbed. She also had friends as glamourous and as dislikable as herself and they hung around with Julie's gay cousin, Scott., who despised me from the first (probably because I met him in that self same back alley as I was fucking Julie from behind on our initial encounter and accused him of being a peeping tom faggot before we were properly introduced!).
Not that I am an angel, but these two really were a pair and not the kind of folks you'd want to cross. They held grudges like kids collected baseball cards. But as much as I came to realise this I was always drawn back to Julie just for the pure sex appeal. And we did have some hell of a good times.
Like the time she suggested hiring a hooker and having a thoroughly filthy threesome which included me fucking the hooker while Julie gave me an incredible rim job that saw her tongue buried in my asshole. Or the time I fucked her doggy style while holding a plastic bag over her head choking her as I came to a climax. She liked rough sex, in fact and enjoyed slapping, choking, scratching and punching (both of us) and one of the best fucks we ever had was after she had participated in (and won) a catfight in a bar against an older, fatter, uglier woman who took exception to Julie teasing the guys in bar.
But our arguments and split ups were extreme too and to get back together I always had to admit liability and fault to get back with her, she always had to win. Until I didn't. Neither I should have either, I was tiring of her ways, was tired of the arguments and thought I had experienced the depths and heights of Julie's debauchery. And then I went round to find her fucking Barry, a friend of hers. She was naked, on her hands and knees on her living room floor and taking a hard ass pounding and just looked up at me, smirked and told me to get down there and fill her mouth up.
We had discussed a two guy threesome before and I was willing to do it for her (after all she had done it for me) and hell it would have been quite an intense experience but she didn't even know I was coming round so she was cheating on me and didn't care, plus right then I wanted to wipe that smug grin of her face.
"Fuck that! And fuck you gutterslut! I'm done with you!"
And I stormed off and I was done with her. But she wasn't done with me. Not by a long shot.
In the past Julie had ignored these break ups and we had gotten back together (usually with a filthy fuck session) but the look of unadulterated hatred on her face as she snarled at me as I stormed off (while Barry continued to ass fuck her) suggested this was a terminal event. And it was.
We unfriended on Facebook, deleted posts and photos on Twitter and did not speak for nearly two months. I wish it had been longer.
My problem, though was twofold. First, Julie always had to win, things always had to be on her terms and our split hadn't been. Secondly she was a nosy bitch and had been prying into my life and what I did all the time we were together. Like I said earlier I was no angel either and had done something that couldn't be discussed on Literotica or similar sites and rather stupidly had kept film and pictures of it on my laptop.
And it was one of those pictures I received to my email from Julie's that fateful Wednesday night. At first I wondered what the attachment was (knowing her it would probably be a picture of her mid coitus in an attempt to make me jealous) but it wasn't it was a picture that I had kept well hidden on my laptop and if it fell into the wrong hands with the wrong details would have seen me in a shit load of trouble. Immediately the prospect of a vengeful Julie having this picture (and no doubt the others and the recording I had taken, because they were all stored together) sent a shiver down my spine.
The message on the mail read.
"Hey asshole, guess what dirty perverts pictures and films I have access to? You'll get a package tomorrow in the post, read and obey the instructions that come with it or I will take great pleasure passing this info onto the cops. X"
*
The package, when I finally opened it with visibly trembling hands, was as bad as I had expected. Inside were a pair of bright pink high heels, a matching underwear set of bright pink frilly bra and panties, pink stockings and suspenders and a bright red lipstick. The note with this load read.
"Wear these on Friday at 8pm and knock on the door of Room 571 of the Sheraton Hotel in town and we'll see if there is any way you can convince me not to go to the authorities. These must all be worn and the lipstick applied from the moment you enter the hotel. If you fail to comply or to show up you can expect the police anytime from Friday eight o'clock onwards.x"
I sat on my sofa and stared at the box and its contents. The bitch knew where to hit me.
I liked to think I was a man's man. Real masculine. I was not slow to ridicule or deride camp or gay guys and I guess I was more than a little homophobic. I remember laughing at a porn DVD I watched with Julie (prior to her deep throating me like you would not believe) that featured cross dressers and telling her you would never catch me like that. Well as I held up the flimsy underwear I guess she had.
Hell I refused to evn wear a cerise coloured shirt she bought me, well she was going to get her pound of flesh this time, wasn't she?
*