Can't Abide Cheating

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A bad experience makes Jennifer hate cheaters.
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amyyum
amyyum
1,757 Followers

One of my clearest memories from childhood is ten-year old me overhearing an argument between my mother and father when I was supposed to be asleep.

"Why do you disrespect me so, George; you not only have affairs but you're not the least bit subtle about it," my mother sobbed. "You seem to enjoy rubbing your infidelity in my face."

"Get over it, Joyce," my father replied in a sharp tone. "I'm not the first guy to need sex outside of marriage."

"But you promised to stop; you're killing me; I have no self-confidence and feel less than human," Mom moaned on the edge of hysteria.

"I can't help it that other women fuck better than you do - pull it together or you'll drive yourself to drink," my father responded without any hint of remorse or compassion.

"Don't you care about what this would do to our daughter Jennifer if she finds out?" Mom sniveled now clearly going over the brink.

"Then fucking make sure that she doesn't find out," were my father's last words before he left for the night, obviously to have a tryst with one of his mistresses.

I wanted to go comfort my crying mother, but I didn't want her to know that I had overheard them. From that day forward I grew closer to my mother and emotionally distanced myself from my father, only interacting with him when necessary.

I'm convinced that my father's cheating let to a premature death for my mother. While she didn't commit suicide, I could tell that the only reason that she stayed on earth was to care for me. I don't know why she stayed with the jerk; maybe she was afraid of the economic consequences because she didn't have any marketable skills, and because she did not have a strong personality.

Two months after my sixteenth birthday Mom's life ended in a car crash, as she drove recklessly from a humiliating confrontation with my father about another of his transparent affairs.

My father tried to be supportive of me after my Mom's death, but even though I never confronted him about it, he knew that I justifiably blamed him for it. I did little more than sleep at our house, and tried to have things to do all weekend so as to avoid him as much as possible.

*****************

I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I worked hard motivated by my desire to get the hell away from my old man; and I was crafty. By my seventeenth birthday I had enough credits to graduate High School.

I was also lucky enough to have a good friend named Tiffany Scalia. Most of the other kids at the upper middle class school that Tiffany and I attended were very wary of Tiffany and never befriended her because her father was - well to put it nicely - in a very "shady" business. I embraced her friendship, however, and always was pleasant when interacting with her parents. Both of her parents, Adolfo and Gina, welcomed me into their home, and liked me a great deal.

Tiffany was on track to go to college, but I needed to get a job as soon as possible in order to get away from my father. To facilitate that, just before graduating from High School I asked for a big favor from Tiffany's father, Adolfo Scalia; a second identity. He was happy to accommodate his daughter's best friend as long as I kept it between us and never let anyone else know. My second identity included a new social security number and birthdate. I became not just Jennifer LaBate, but also Alicia Brighton.

I didn't even bother to tell my father when I got my High School diploma at the end of summer school after my junior year. I collected my personal things, emptied the relatively small joint bank account that my father and I had (separate from his much larger accounts) after forging my father's signature to a withdrawal slip, and left him a simple note:

"Hey George. I'm gone, out of your life. Don't try to find me. Rot in hell, you murdering asshole!"

I think that my note let him know how I felt about him.

*****************

I was confident that I could make it on my own - with a little more help from Adolfo Scalia. Alicia's birth certificate indicated that she was a year older than Jennifer. Eighteen year old Alicia got a job as an exotic dancer at "Bottoms Up," a high-end club that Adolfo was a part owner of. I was perfect for the job because even though I had a shitty father and a weak mother, I had been a winner in the "looks" gene lottery; I had a pleasant face and a five foot nine, one hundred thirty pound, body with long sleek legs, a round ass, and nice C cup boobs, as well as naturally blond hair with red highlights.

Because Adolfo let it be known that no one was to mess with me, and because Bottoms Up had a high-end clientele and some of the toughest bouncers in the country, I was able to work without the fear of harassment that most women in my situation are exposed to. One of the older dancers even took me under her wing and taught me her best moves. That, combined with my daily gym workouts, allowed me to become the headliner at Bottoms Up by the time that I really was eighteen and a half years old.

I had become such a regular patron and so proficient in the gym that as Jennifer I not only got a free membership but I got a part-time job at the gym training out-of-shape older women. I filed tax returns under two different social security numbers; Alicia paid a lot of tax, Jennifer very little.

I worked at Bottoms Up until I was a little over twenty one, and made scads of money; on some busy Saturday nights I got more than a thousand dollars in tips. However, I knew that exotic dancing was not a long term profession, nor one conducive to marriage, which I ultimately was interested in. I decided that a good follow-up would be working as a masseuse.

I became sexually active after my eighteenth birthday, but not as Alicia - as Jennifer. While, as Jennifer, I had had a number of good sexual experiences by the time that Alicia quit working as an exotic dancer, I never had a particularly satisfying relationship. That changed when, as Jennifer, I met Rick Wilton while Alicia was studying to be a masseuse and Jennifer was still working at the gym.

Rick is a big strong guy, and handsome too. My first impression of his looks was very favorable, and he also seemed nice although maybe a little too full of himself. We met one weeknight when he was a guest of one of the gym regulars. While I was used to guys hanging around me and usually just tolerated it, in his case I welcomed it. We chatted on and off for about two hours.

Rick hung around until I was done working at the gym, and wasn't particularly subtle.

"Say Jennifer; I was hoping that maybe we could go out together this Saturday night."

"I don't know, Rick; I think I need to know a little bit more about what you're like before I commit a Saturday night to you. I'm in demand, you know," I said, with a big smile and in a flirtatious manner.

"I have no doubt about that," he chuckled. "If not a Saturday night for a first date, then what?"

"Well Saturday at noon you could take me to that paintball park that opened up last month off of Route 50. Unless you're afraid of getting dirty, or of a girl kicking your butt," I replied with a big grin.

"Getting my butt kicked?" he snickered. "You're on; how about I pick you up at noon..."

I cut him off. "How about I meet you there at 12:30 instead; you're not coming to my apartment until I know you better," I said with an even bigger smile.

We had a great time at the paintball park both when we were on opposite teams and the same team. I wasn't really worth a shit at paintball but it was very instructive - it revealed a lot about his personality, and even some things about his character, and I liked what I saw.

I didn't make it easy for poor Rick to romance me, though. It was obvious that he was smitten with me, and I saw him as the best relationship prospect I had come across, but I wanted to take things slowly. I actually put the poor guy through a facsimile of the Twelve Labors of Hercules, including a ropes course, bowling, a ballet, a concert, miniature golf, a comedy club, and even Bingo at a local senior citizens home where I volunteered. He passed with flying colors.

Bingo was our seventh date; he had yet to see my apartment, let alone be invited in, and all he had gotten in the way of body contact was a few kisses and a couple of tit feels that in good humor I warded off. As we entered the senior citizens home he was mobbed by a good dozen old ladies, all of whom knew me from my volunteer work there. After they oohed, aahed, and harassed him for ten or fifteen minutes I rescued him.

Rick grabbed my arm and chuckled. "You really are pushing it to see how dedicated I am to you, aren't you?"

"Hey dude, Bingo's fun," I replied, pinching his cheek.

"Yeah, well if it doesn't work out with you I've got a dozen eighty year olds that would gladly hook up with me," he snickered.

I laughed.

"If I'm going to play Bingo, I want it to be for more than just a few bucks," he chortled.

"What then?" I inquired.

"How about if I beat you, you invite me to your place tonight and make me dinner. If you win I take you out to the nicest restaurant in the city. Deal?" he asked, extending his hand.

"Deal," I replied while shaking his hand. "Best of three. Do you even know how to play?"

"I'm a fast learner, Jennifer," was his reply.

We agreed that a game would end when someone called "Bingo" and that whichever of us had the most markers on our card at that time would be the winner between us.

I beat his butt in the first game - he missed several numbers on his card - but I made sure to lose the next two games, intentionally missing some numbers on my card. I pretended to be upset. We left as soon as he won the second game, and he followed me home.

When he entered my apartment I changed from playing hard to get to a tigress. I put my arms around his neck, gave him a passionate kiss filled with tongue. "I'm adding another condition to me making you dinner," I seductively said after the kiss.

"What's that?" he skeptically asked.

"I need to be sure that you're a good fuck, and like to eat pussy," I replied before sticking my tongue in his mouth again.

Although I'm sure that he was shocked, Rick took it in stride. Within minutes all of my clothes were off, I was sitting on my living room couch while moaning and grabbing his hair as he licked and sucked my pussy and clit. After a first orgasm I encouraged him to sit on the couch with his mushroom head cock sticking straight up. I had never seen a mushroom head cock before - I liked it!

After I sucked Rick's cock, diligently tonguing the mushroom head while I made eye contact, I mounted him and slowly buried his dick in my pussy. Getting that mushroom head inside of me was a little tricky, but fun to negotiate. It felt so fucking good - it seemed like his cock was just the right size for my pussy and the contrast between his head and shaft really turned me on. Once I was buried we both started undulating, rocking, and bucking in a frenzy of activity. While I dug my fingers into his shoulders he squeezed or sucked my tits or pinched my nipples.

I came again faster than I had ever come a second time in my life, and when I came a third time he discharged five or six cum bombs in my cunt. I wondered if my ecstatic scream would cause the neighbors to call police, but in actually at that point in time I didn't really give a shit. I was concerned only with our mutual pleasure.

I eventually did make dinner - I just heated up frozen pizza and made a salad, hardly a gourmet meal - but Rick didn't complain. Maybe it was because he spent the night and we fucked twice more before we got up the next morning.

I fell hard for Rick that morning. We were about to shower together, but before I turned on the water he got this look of lust in his eyes. He bent me over the bathroom sink, weaseled his mushroom head into my still cum-soaked tender pussy, and started reciprocating. As I supported myself with my hands on the sink I could clearly see him in the mirror, and since he was turned slightly I could even see his cock moving in and out of my pussy. He had a positively euphoric look on his face as we fucked. I was so turned on by the way his mushroom head was stroking my G-spot, the way that he was fingering my asshole with one hand and squeezing a nipple with the other, and the pure excitement he was experiencing, I had one continuous orgasm, highlighted and punctuated by the deposit of another large wad of cum in my pussy.

Rick had to halfway support me in the shower as he washed the cum off of my body and made sure that my nipples were squeaky clean.

I made him blueberry pancakes for breakfast. We were both starving and ate a batch that was supposed to serve six people. After we finished breakfast and sat down next to each other on the couch he had fucked me on the previous night, I was as blunt as I ever had been in my life.

"Say Rick; you are one terrific fucker. Plus I really like you. I'd love to make a habit of fucking you but there's one big caveat that probably will prevent that?"

"Wow - you really speak your mind, don't you?" he replied.

I chuckled.

"What's this supposed major caveat?" he asked.

"I don't share. If you're going to keep fucking me we need to be exclusive. That probably is too much to ask of a stud like you, but that's my deal," I responded, trying to give him the most seductive look possible.

He stared at me kind of like what I envision a hungry lion would do when looking at a gazelle. It seemed like a long silence. I stood up and said "Well I hope to hear from you..."

He pulled me onto the couch and gave me a passionate kiss. "Fucking you was the most fun I've ever had in my life," he grinned when he finally let me up for air. "I couldn't handle anyone else if I'm having sex with you even if I wanted to - and I don't want to. How about dinner tonight at my apartment?"

I grinned. "OK."

"Bring an overnight bag," he said before giving me another zealous kiss.

***************

Things moved swiftly with Rick. We definitely were simpatico in many ways aside from sex; and the sex was beyond incredible. We fucked each other in so many different positions and places that it was impossible to remember them all, especially since after every extended fuck fest with Rick my mind was full of cobwebs and my vision blurry.

My lease was up two and a half months after our first fuck, and as soon as it was I moved in with him in the small house that he owned. Three months after that when we got home from a party about two a. m. he sat me down on a couch, got on one knee, took out a ring box and said "Jennifer LaBate; will you make my dreams come true and marry me."

Of course I wanted to say yes; but I hadn't had a real heart-to-heart talk with him about the subject that was the most important to me regarding marriage - fidelity. Considering what a hunk he was and how women responded to him I needed to have that talk.

"Rick; I'm not going to answer right now. I love you and want to marry you but there is a subject we need to talk about first."

He looked a little hurt and bewildered. I kissed him twice on the lips in quick succession.

"I'd rather not go into details but I need you to know that I had a very, very bad experience in my life when there was a serious fidelity issue with people that I was close to. If I marry you, you have to understand that that is my number one priority. I'll never be with another guy and you'll never be with another woman. If you are that will be the immediate end of our relationship no matter what the circumstances," I said as seriously as possible while holding his hands.

"Of course that's what I expect if we get married," he replied, somewhat perplexed.

"Yes that is the normal expectation," I replied, trying to be as calculated as possible although my emotions got the best of me as a vision of the conversation between my parents that I overheard when I was ten flashed into my brain. A few unwelcome tears drained from my ducts as I continued. "I just need you to know that with me it is far more than an expectation; it is a necessity, a requirement; even an obsession."

He still had a perplexed look on his face, and he was truly mystified by what I said and did next. I stood up and pulled him up off his still bended knee. "I'm going to take you to bed and fuck your lights out, and then I'm checking into a hotel until you've thought about what I've said and you call me."

He started to protest. I put my finger over his mouth in a "shushing" motion. "Wait at least forty eight hours; any time after that that you come to a thoughtful decision, call me."

I let him to bed, seductively stripped him, sucked both his cock and balls with alacrity, then rode him reverse cowgirl to a gargantuan simultaneous orgasm.

After our orgasms I lay next to him, sucking his slimy cock, stroking his head with one hand, and manipulating his testicles with the other, until he fell asleep. Then I packed the necessary clothes and left for a hotel room.

Exactly forty eight hours after our talk - almost to the minute - Rick called me; it was 2:04 a.m. My cell phone ringing woke me up. "Please come home tonight, Jennifer. I have something to ask you," he pleaded.

"I'll be right there," I groggily responded. I immediately packed up my stuff, checked out, and got home by 2:45.

Rick met me at the door with a passionate kiss. He lifted me up and carried me into the living room and plopped me down on the couch. Again he got on one knee.

"Jennifer, I want only you. I don't ever want anyone else and I swear I'll be true to you. Please make my life complete and marry me," he said, holding out a diamond engagement ring with sapphire baguettes.

"Yes, yes, yes," I shouted in glee as I threw my arms around him and kissed him fiercely.

We got married in a small ceremony just three months later. Of course I wanted as little publicity as possible since I didn't want my old ex-father George LaBate to show up, but an announcement made it into the local paper anyway. Tiffany was my matron of honor (I had been the maid of honor at her wedding a year earlier) and I actually made hard-ass Adolfo Scalia cry by asking him to give me away. Gina Scalia sat holding a photo of my mother, where she would have sat if she were still alive.

I was embarrassed when Adolfo and Gina gave Rick and me an all-expense eight day honeymoon trip to Hawaii as a wedding present - but not too embarrassed to turn it down.

There was only one bummer. Ole man George snuck into the wedding chapel during the nuptials; but at least he had the good sense not to try to come to the reception once I became Jennifer Wilton - I was glad to get rid of LaBate as my surname, my last association with my father.

*************

I never told Rick about my secret life as Alicia; I'm not sure exactly why. Despite my trust in Rick, maybe it was a vestige of the trauma I suffered as a little girl, protecting myself so that I always had an option. Whatever it was, I became a true master at living one work life and a home life as Jennifer Wilton, and a secret work-only life as Alicia Brighton.

Alicia got a massage certification about three months after Jennifer got married. When married I filed separate tax returns from Rick. All the money I made as Jennifer went into our household expenses, and the money I made as a masseuse I put into bank accounts and stock purchases for Alicia, along with the more than $200,000 already there from when Alicia worked as a stripper.

As Alicia I worked for a group of massage therapists for six months, and then started my own business, subletting space from a nutritionist and acupuncturist.

To minimize the chance that someone who knew me as Jennifer would recognize me as Alicia, and also to tone down my attractiveness as Alicia, I wore a rudimentary disguise when working as a masseuse. I put clip on red hair extensions in my hair, I wore plain lens glasses, and I put actor's three-dimensional makeup on my nose and chin. The makeup was virtually impossible to detect and changed my "celestial" nose to a more straight-edged one and covered up the small cute dimple in my chin.

amyyum
amyyum
1,757 Followers