A Slut's Triangle Pt. 08

As soon as Kimberly leaves the Chamber, I zone out with all sorts of random thoughts crossing my mind. I shouldn't feel any sort of attraction to her, considering I've only been intimate with guys since my divorce. Strangely, though, I can picture myself having sex with her.

What's weird is that we're both sharing the same boyfriend. However, she didn't mention Kryss by name at all to me in our conversations. Despite knowing the truth, however, it has my head all fucked up.

Things were somewhat better back when I didn't know what was going on. Now that I do, I feel guilty and, in a way, somewhat responsible. Sooner or later, Kimberly is going to find out that Kryss is fucking me behind her back and there's bound to be some sort of drama. Then, I'm going to get caught up in the crossfire.

"You hardly touched your drink, Kevin," Brenda remarks, studying me.

"It won't solve anything," I sigh, swiveling my barstool to face her.

"Well, you just let an opportunity walk out the door," she remarks, propping herself on the bar with her elbows.

"Yeah, but some opportunities come with more drama than others," I add, drumming my fingers on the bar.

"Kimberly's not the bad guy," she reminds, silencing my drumming fingers with her hand. "It's not her fault Kryss is sleeping with you."

"I know that," I sigh, turning my head from her gazing eyes to ponder, "It's just that - well - fuck, I don't know. Of all people, why does she have to be attracted to me?"

"You need to think about your own needs for a change," she insists, squeezing my hand as she finishes my drink for me.

"I have," I joke, pulling my hand out from underneath hers, "and it's making my head hurt."

"Can I help?" She offers, clearing away our empty glasses from the bar.

"A miracle would be nice," I jest, standing up from the bar, then slinging my purse over my shoulder, "but they don't come in the size I need."

"If you had followed Kimberly out the bar, you would've gotten laid tonight," she implies, wiping down the bar.

"What makes you so sure about that?" I ask, pulling my hair out of it's ponytail.

"Telling her that you dress like a woman and sleep with guys," she explains, tossing the towel behind her, "won't stop her from having an interest in you."

"I hear what you're saying," I reply, walking to the door, jingling my car keys.

"Yeah, but are you listening to me?" She explains, walking to the end of the bar, "It's human nature to want what we can't have."

Propping open the bar door with my foot, I bow my head, letting the breeze whip my hair. I admire Brenda's persistence. She's hard on me at times, but it's only because she wants what's best for me. She also has a knack of reading people and their ulterior motives. I should've been listening to her when she warned me about getting involved with Kryss. Then, I wouldn't be in the mess that I'm in right now.

"Before you leave," she adds, stalling my departure as she rounds the bar, "I want you to think about something."

"What's that?" I ask, glancing at her over my shoulder.

"Are you letting what you want hinder your happiness?" She asks, resting her hands on an empty table.

"I don't see how getting dick is holding me back from happiness," I answer, turning to leave.

"Just think about it," she hollers before the door closes behind me.

Brenda's comment has my mind churning. I should stay and chat since I could use her insight instead of walking away. Right now, all I can think about is getting home and taking off all these uncomfortable guy clothes.

Pausing beside my car, I dig my iPhone out of my purse to check my missed texts. It doesn't surprise me that I have one from Kryss. After opening the door and getting in, I read his text.

"You need to call me, Ashleigh," Kryss' missed text reads, stirring my emotions.

"Pfft... Need?" I vent, tossing my iPhone into the passenger seat.

After starting my car, I drive away. Hours later, I pull into my driveway after running errands and battling Atlanta traffic. As soon as I walk through the door, I strip off my clothes. Then, I sift through my closet for something more comfortable to wear - like my pink, body length satin nightgown, gear down for bed, and remind myself I have to work tomorrow.

My uneventful week at work week drags along and, by Wednesday, I'm counting down the days until the weekend. All I can think about is getting some dick. Oddly, I find myself dodging Kryss' calls and texts, distancing myself from the drama. The last thing I want is for Kimberly to find out Kryss is fucking me behind her back until I can sort some things out in my head.

When the work week is finally over, I race home to start my transformation routine and make plans for the weekend. While the time ticks by, I shower, put on some satin lingerie, and get dressed in my short, black leather mini dress. Then, I sit down at the vanity to put on my makeup, thigh-high stiletto heels and gold jewelry. When I'm finished, I primp my hair, accent my outfit with a metal chain belt, and put on a hint of perfume.

Once I'm all-dolled-up, wander around the house, hashing out my weekend plans. At first, I consider going up to the Chamber to socialize, but I decide to change my routine to avoid Kryss. What I'd really like to do is seduce my neighbor Rick into having sex just for the challenge, but he's off playing soldier with his Army reserve unit.

Ultimately, I end up sending out random texts to guys I know, looking for a booty call. It's discouraging when no one replies back or they say they're busy. I end up sending my last text to Tommie against my better judgement, hoping for another threesome with him and Derek.

"Can you and Derek stop by tonight?" I text, walking out of my bedroom.

While I'm waiting on his reply, I head to the kitchen and raid the refrigerator. Minutes later my iPhone rings. It doesn't surprise me it's Kryss calling. Against my better judgment, I answer his phone call.

"Hello?" I cough, pretending to sound sick, but somewhat cheerful to hear from him.

"You don't sound good," he remarks, being sympathetic, and a little devious in his approach.

"I've been out of work sick all week," I fib, rummaging through my refrigerator.

"I was worried you lost your taste for dick," he sighs.

"Derek has to work tonight," Tommie's text reads, pausing my phone call with Kryss.

"Well, fuck!" I blurt, pouring a glass of tea.

"That's what I like to hear," Kryss replies, bringing me back to reality.

"Looks like it's just the two of us," I text Tommie, flinging my hair to the side, then taking a sip of tea.

"You didn't hear what I said, Kryss," I explain, waiting for Tommie's reply, "I'm not in the mood for a booty call tonight."

"I can't tonight, Ashleigh," Tommie's text reads.

While nibbling on this and that for a bite to eat, I pretend to listen to Kryss' babbling on the phone about whatever. Tiring of his voice, I close the refrigerator door, pick up my glass of tea, and leave the kitchen. Before I get to my bedroom, I'm detoured by someone knocking on my front door.

"Let me call you back, Kryss," I interrupt, silencing his babbling. "Someone's at the front door."

After ending Kryss' phone call abruptly, I turn and head to the front door, wondering if he's going to keep hounding me for a booty call. Anyway, I neglect to peek out the window before opening the door. At most, I'm expecting it to be just a door to door salesman.

"Hello," I greet, opening the front door with a smile on my face.

It's not a salesman at my door - it's Kryss. I'm utterly speechless. My jaw drops and a sick feeling churns in my stomach. Then, I catch a quick glimpse of Tommie's blue Camaro backing out of my driveway. I just got played like a fucking fool.

There's a stench of alcohol lingering on Kryss' breath as he stands in my doorway, towering over me. The way he's staring at me makes me feel uncomfortable. Then, he invites himself inside and slams the front door shut, rattling the pictures on my walls.

"Well - well - well, Ashleigh," Kryss slurs, undressing me with his eyes.

"How - how did you -," I stutter, taking a step back to process the situation.

"Tommie dropped me off," he answers, slapping me with the back of his hand, "and that's for lying to me."

Startled, I drop my glass of tea, spilling it all over my living room floor as I cower away from him. He's never hit me or even slapped me before; however, I probably deserve it for dodging him all week long.

"I - I can explain," I stutter, holding my cheek to soothe the stinging sensation.

"Oh, you don't have to explain," he slurs, steering me towards my bedroom. "You said 'fuck'."

Backpedaling, I put some space between us, but every step seems like I'm pulling Kryss with an invisible string. I want to run and barricade myself in my bedroom, but that'd be a bad idea. He's a lot stronger would just force his way into my bedroom.

"But, I -," I stutter, looking for a legitimate excuse as I glance over my shoulder.

"Tommie told me all about last weekend," he snarls, snatching my iPhone from my hand.

"But, Kryss, I -," I stutter again, only to be slapped for a second time.

"And when I show up at your house," he adds, shoving me into my bedroom, "I find you dressed like a hooker."

"I had some fun," I confess, stumbling over my high heels and nearly falling on the floor, "but only because you pushed me away."

"What - my cock isn't good enough for your ass?" He gripes, kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his pants.

"You were drunk - you fucking pushed me away, "I argue, regretting my poor choice of words to defend my actions. "You know I love getting dick from you."

"Then, you shouldn't have a problem with me fucking you," he counters, snatching off his shirt and dropping his pants.

I want some dick, but not from Kryss - not until I can sort through the things clouding my head. His assertiveness, however, is actually turning me on. Blinded by need for dick, I ignore the fact he's fucking Kimberly behind my back. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to deal with it, though.

Grabbing my arm, Kryss slings me onto the bed and tosses my iPhone onto my nightstand. After crawling on the bed with me, he straddles my body, smothering my tiny cock in the mattress to prevent me from playing or fondling it. Then, he hikes up my leather mini dress and yanks my satin panties off my hips.

"I don't care who fucks you," he rants, immobilizing me under his body weight, "but my needs come first."

My face grimaces in pain from the sudden burning sensations when he shoves his hard cock into me dry. With tears in my eyes, I want to scream. My ass feels like it's on fire, being torn and ripped open as it stretches and wraps around his cock.

"Agh...," I shriek, snatching a pillow over my head, burying it like an ostrich.

"You don't act like you love my cock, "he taunts, yanking the pillow from my hands and tossing it in the floor.

As much as I want to resist, I hardly put up much of a fight. It's as if my futile actions are all for show. Kryss knows I'm obsessed with his beautiful, sexy cock. Twisting and squirming my body around on the bed, I get comfortable the best I can.

I'd much rather Kryss fuck me doggie style instead of on my belly. To relieve some of the pressure, I arch my back. When I do, Kryss grabs a handful of my long, red hair and pulls my head back even further.

"I do love your cock, Kryss," I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the pain.

"What did you say?" He taunts, pumping his cock in and out of my ass, I can't hear you."

Giving into Kryss' insistent demands, I feel guilty. It's bad enough I let him sexually humiliate and degrade me when we have sex. However, I feel as if I'm enabling him when I do it myself.

"I said - I'm a faggot and I love dick!" I holler, holding back my tears as he fucks me.

"I bet you do," he remarks, clenching my hair tighter and driving his cock deeper into my ass.

Grunting and groaning, Kryss pummels my ass unmercifully with his hard, swollen cock. The rough, insensitive sex hurts, but it feels good at the same time. Despite the feelings, it still makes me wish he'd make love to me again instead of just fucking me.

"I don't feel guilty fucking you," he pants, slamming his cock into me with each and every thrust.

Kryss' hollow words don't really phase me anymore. I'm used to them. Nevertheless, they trigger thoughts of Kimberly and the fact he's using me to cheat on her, filling me with guilt.

"I can't wait until I cum in your ass," he pants, slowing his thrusts.

As Kryss' breathing becomes shallow, I feel the cold beads of his sweat dripping on my skin. I'm relieved to know he's close to his orgasm. It's doubtful that he's even noticed I'm not as vocal as I normally am when we have sex.

"Let me suck it for you," I offer, pretending to enjoy the moment.

"Hell, no!" He refuses, declining my offer, "You can suck it after I cum in your ass."

Nearing his point of climax, Kryss releases his grip on my hair. I breathe a sigh of relief as my muscles in my body relax. My whole body is trembling and shaking, his cock twitching inside me. I'm upset with myself, burying my face into the mattress.

"Oh, my fucking God! Ahh...," he grunts and moans, injecting his warm semen into my ass, "I'm coming - I'm coming in your fucking ass, bitch."

When Kryss' cock stops twitching, he pulls it out of my ass and his warm, sticky cum oozes from my ass. Exhausted and sore, I roll over onto my back and close my eyes. I'm ashamed I didn't voice my concerns or confront him about Kimberly. It wouldn't have mattered; my words would've fallen on deaf ears.

"Now, suck it," he insists, pulling me up onto me knees in front of his cock by my hair.

I want to resist my urge to suck his cock, but I can't. He knows how much I love sucking his beautiful, sexy cock ass to mouth. Suppressing my irrational feelings, I coil my hands around the back of his thighs and wrap my lips around his cock.

"That's it, suck it - fucking suck it," he, demands, watching me work my lips up and down his shaft, leaving lipstick rings on his cock.

As I'm sucking Kryss' cock, thoughts and images of Kimberly swirl around in my head, clouding my mind again. Brenda was right. What I want is holding me back from finding happiness. I just thought that I wanted dick, but what I really want is a meaningful relationship with Kryss. I'm not going to find it or any kind of happiness if he's cheating on Kimberly.

"No wonder your wife left you," he scolds, pushing me over onto my back. "You're nothing but a cock sucking faggot."

Kryss' degrading words reverberate in my head, reminding me that I'm trapped by my own desires. Suddenly, my iPhone chimes with a text, drawing me out of my silent, distant daze. Snatching it off the nightstand, Kryss reads the text. Then, he tosses it back on the nightstand. While I wallowing in my shame feeling guilty, he retreives his cell phone from his blue jeans and calls Tommie.

"I need you to swing by and pick me up," he requests, staring at me laying on the bed with his cold, brown eyes.