Neglected Red Headed Trophy Wife Ch. 03

"I'm a filthy, worthless whore!" She groaned, bouncing her ass back and forth.

"And who do you belong to?" He asked, and she almost choked, gasping for air.

"You sir! I belong to you! I'm all yours!" She spat, groaning and quivering, then cumming again.

"OH FUCK!" She moaned.

"Who's my sweet, little kitten?" Paul asked, as she slowly recovered.

"M-m-me?" She asked, and Paul nodded, watching her turn from him and hide her face, cumming one last time before he groaned, filling her ass with cum.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Paul!" She whimpered, turning to him. "Paul, please, hand me the plug."

Paul grabbed it and handed it to her, watching as she feverishly licked it and lubed it up, shoving it back into place before collapsing.

"I want to keep your cum inside me," She whimpered, and Paul lied down next to her, rubbing her flesh as she quivered and gasped, slowly calming herself down.

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

"And you don't look like you're eating enough," Valerie nagged him as they drove back through their neighborhood. "Fuck, nobody feeds you when I'm not around!"

"Relax, I eat, I eat," Paul laughed, and she smiled, parking the car and staring at him.

They'd lied together and cuddled for as long as Valerie could get away with at the mall parking lot, but she'd promised Roger she'd be back from "her work out" early so he could take her to dinner.

"Not enough!" She snapped, smiling and blushing at him, then she reached into her purse and grabbed her wallet, pulling out a handful of twenties and pushing it into his hands.

"Take it, go out to eat tonight, my treat," she insisted, and Paul rolled his eyes.

"So you're giving me an allowance now?" He joked, and she laughed, rolling her eyes.

"I'd much rather you make me earn it by being your filthy whore," She whispered, and he leaned in, grabbing her neck and kissing her, then slapping her tits and choking her while she gasped and moaned.

"Soon enough," he laughed, stepping out of the car, leaving her gasping and panting.

He started walking back to his house and she pulled up, driving slowly next to him.

"Same time tomorrow?" She asked, and Paul nodded.

"See you then, kitten," he smiled, watching her car drive off, leaving him walking the remaining block or two back to his house alone.

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

Paul woke up early the next day, unable to sleep, unable to think about anything besides seeing Valerie again. He missed her smile, her sophisticated, sarcastic demeanour. He thought about what she'd said, that she belonged to him, and he looked over at his computer desk, the flash drive sitting near the edge, and his stomach dropped.

Was she really his? Did she really care? How could he know when he lorded her old affair over her, when he blackmailed her for her body. Did she care anymore? Would she still be his if he gave her the flash drive? Or was that the only reason she stayed.

It was raining when he left, pocketing the drive and grabbing an umbrella, walking the few blocks down to where they'd agreed to meet.

Noon came and she wasn't there, so he waited. It was almost a half an hour before she drove up in her red sports car, but she didn't roll the window down. Paul closed the umbrella and stepped inside, dripping wet.

"Hi," She sniffled, and Paul turned to her. She was wearing her big, baggy hoodie and sweatpants. Her eyes were red and puffy, she'd been crying.

"Kitten?" Paul asked, leaning over, but she flinched, shaking her head.

"We need to talk," she told him, her voice cracking, almost a whisper.

"Yeah," Paul sighed, nodding.

They drove to the park, finding a secluded spot and she turned the car off, turning to him as the rain pitter pattered on the roof.

"What are we doing?" She asked, flat out, and Paul shrugged.

"I don't know," he stammered, grabbing her hand, and she laced her fingers around his. "What's wrong?"

She turned away, sniffling and sobbing quietly, clenching his hand in hers for some time before she looked at him.

"Roger, last night, he took me out for dinner, he ap- he apologized, for how he's been treating me. He said, he said after his next trip, he wants to take me to Hawaii or Mexico or the Caribbean, somewhere nice, spend a couple weeks together and try to work it out, he wants to work things out."

"Oh," Paul said, her every word adding another brick to his chest, making it so hard to breath.

"What are we? What is this?" She asked, sobbing and rubbing his fingers.

"I don't know," Paul stammered, feeling worse than ever. "But it's something."

"Am I just your pet? Is it just physical?" Valerie sobbed, pulling her hand from his. "I need to know, Paul!"

Paul steadied his breath, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"No," he finally told her. "No, maybe it was, but not anymore. I think about you every day, I miss you when you're not around."

She buried her face in her hands, groaning.

"What do I do?" She squeaked, shaking her head. "Paul, you're great, you're all I could ever want from a man, but I'm married!"

Paul crossed his arms and looked away.

"I made a vow, I made a vow," She sobbed, her breath quickening. "If I- if I leave him, would you- would you stay with me? Would you- would you-"

Paul sat there, staring out into the rain as she fumbled over her words, then he reached into his pocket, pulling out the flash drive, setting it in the cup holder, and she turned to him, her eyes wide, her make up smearing down her cheeks.

"I'd stay," he whispered.

"Oh, Paul!" She moaned, lunging over the center console, throwing herself on top of him, pushing the seat back and clinging to him, kissing him over and over. "Paul!"

Paul kissed her back, and it was a short moment before she'd lifted her skirt and pushed her panties aside, pulling his cock out in a flash of movement and grunts and shoving it deep inside her pussy.

Paul groped her, grabbing her ass as she rode him, kissing and sobbing quietly, whimpering, her tears streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto his face. She clung to him, her nails digging in, and as he groped her ass and pulled her close, he could feel it, the plug.

"Oh Paul!" She groaned, cumming, and he came with her, filling her pussy with his cum before she fell back, panting and moaning, curling up in the front seat, turning away from him.

"Tell me what to do," she squeaked, and Paul sighed, his heart heavy.

"I want you, Valerie, I want you all to myself," Paul whispered, putting his cock away and zipping up his pants. "But I can't tell you what to do. I'll never make you do anything ever again, I can't."

He reached into the back seat and grabbed his umbrella. She turned to him, staring at him with sad eyes.

"This is your decision," he told her, opening the door and letting himself out, into the pouring rain.

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

Over a week had passed and Paul had barely managed to get out of bed. He'd waited for Roger to leave, and once he was gone, he'd returned to Valeries, only to find the door locked. He knocked and knocked, but she didn't answer.

And so he knew.

He felt like a ghost returning to his old life, his life without her, and wondered how it had ever been enough. He was restless, food didn't taste good any more, his video games lost their appeal, he wondered if he'd even bother starting school once fall came, how he could keep going through the motions when it all seemed so meaningless.

He stared down at the watch on his wrist. Maybe he'd sell it, use the money to go on a road trip, clear his head, maybe he just wouldn't come back.

But he didn't want to lose it.

A few more days passed slowly as he hid himself from the world. One afternoon, as he crept out of his bedroom to get some food, trying desperately not to starve to death from disinterest, he heard his mother on the phone.

"Oh god, that's terrible," She said, shaking her head. "Oh, that's just awful. I'm so sorry."

Paul shook it off, having barely enough energy to deal with his own grief, let alone somebody else's, grabbing some food and shuffling back to his bedroom.

The next day, he was feeling slightly better, deciding to try being a person again, to go out, maybe see his friends. He left his bedroom, coming downstairs to find his mother and father dressed in black, getting ready to leave.

"What's going on?" He asked, staring at them, and his mother smiled faintly.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you," she said, stepping forward and rubbing his shoulder. "Mr. Mansfield passed away, some foodborne bacteria infection he caught in Thailand, we're going to his funeral."

"Oh," Paul could barely muster the words.

"We didn't bother telling you, figured you wouldn't be interested in going," his father smiled, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around Paul. "Just shows you how painfully short life is, you can't take anyone for granted in this world."

Paul nodded, sitting down, and they smiled at him, leaving him there.

At first, he was elated. He was excited. Now there was no choice, now there was nothing keeping him from Valerie, they could finally be together.

But that excitement was short lived. Valerie had made her choice, she'd chosen her husband, and if he went to her now, he'd be preying on her vulnerability, using her again.

Paul sank back onto the couch as the guilt and pain of what he'd put her through, the pain she must be feeling now, increased by her own infidelity, were all his fault. He'd blackmailed her, abused her, forced her to bend to his will. And even if she'd enjoyed it, there was no denying the fact that she was not a willing participant, and Paul felt like the biggest piece of shit in the entire world.

He wouldn't be going to her, no matter how much he wanted. He couldn't put her through any more.

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

Paul woke up on the couch as his parents walked in, smiling at him.

"Catch a nap?" His mom asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted, getting up and walking up the stairs.

"I'll have dinner ready in an hour, ok honey?" She called to him.

"Yeah, an hour," he echoed back, closing the door to his room.

"Why do you think she asked about Paul?" His dad asked as soon as they were alone.

"I don't know, simple curiosity I guess? People say the strangest things when they're suffering from grief like that," she reasoned, half sympathetically.

"Yeah, strange woman, that one," Paul's father shrugged, taking off his coat. "Did you see that weird necklace? That thick green choker thing?"

"Mitch!" Paul's mom groaned, smacking his chest. "Come on! Don't talk like that!"

"I'm just saying!" Mitch laughed a little, backing off. "Strange choice of fashion for a funeral."

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

Paul was walking from his bedroom to the bathroom the next day when he heard her voice.

"Hi Mrs. Scott, I'm sorry to bother you," Valerie's said meekly, and Paul caught himself before he walked in front of the stairs and into view, pushing his back against the wall.

"It's quite alright, dear, are you hungry? Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no, no," Valerie replied, smiling. "It's just, well, I was wondering if Paul was home."

Paul clutched at his chest, barely able to breath, his heart beating a mile a minute, all the blood draining from his face, turning a ghostly shade of white.

"Oh, Paul? I'm not sure, he might have fun off with his friends, would you like me to go check?" Paul's mom asked sweetly, turning to call him, but Valerie reached out, grabbing her hand.

"Oh, no, no," she frowned, then smiled, trying to hide her sadness. "I- uh, I just have so many of Roger's things lying about, and it's too much for me, I was wondering, if you think it's alright, would you ask him if he wouldn't mind helping me move some of it?"

Paul's mother smiled sympathetically.

"Well, yes, of course, dear," she said, and Valerie nodded, blushing.

"Ok, uh, thanks," she whispered, turning around and darting off.

Paul caught his breath as he listened to his mother closing the door, then he stepped out.

"Was someone here?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, just Valerie Mansfield, she'd like your help moving some of her husband's things around," his mom smiled weakly. "You don't have to, of course, but it would be awful sweet of you if you did."

Paul nodded, walking off to the bathroom, groaning and rubbing his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest.

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

It took some time before Paul worked up the courage to knock on her door, standing outside in the light of the setting sun, unsure of what awaited him, but when he finally knocked, the door parted at his touch, and he stepped inside.

It was a mess.

There were empty wine bottles everywhere, dirty dishes and broken glass on the floor, and the air was thick with the smell of stale alcohol.

"Valerie?" Paul called, walking through the house, and he found her lying on the couch, a bottle in her hand, a giant stack of tissues before her, sitting up drunkenly.

"Oh, Paul, Paul," she slurred, smiling weakly and trying to stand up, but losing her balance and falling back down on the couch. She was wearing a black dress, the shoulder straps hanging loosely around her arms, her makeup smeared and caked, her hair disheveled, a complete mess.

"Hey," Paul smiled, sitting down next to her, and she smiled up at him weakly, then collapsed into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist, rubbing her face against his shirt.

"Oh Paul! Paul!" She sobbed, shivering, and he held her, rubbing her back, feeling a confusing mixture of guilt and shame with happiness as he felt her in his arms again.

"I'm so sorry, Valerie," he told her, and she nodded.

"Paul, I'm- I'm so lost," she groaned, grabbing the bottle and chugging it, nearly finishing half of it in one stretch before Paul grabbed it and pulled it back down, some wine spilling down and staining her dress.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," Paul smiled, setting the bottle down, and she shook her head.

"I don't want to stay here," she whimpered as he grabbed her arm. "I don't want to stay here alone."

"I'll stay with you, until you fall asleep," Paul told her, and she clung to him, letting him walk her up the stairs.

"Oh Paul," she groaned, and as they entered the bedroom, she stumbled onto the bed, pushing her dress down to the floor and collapsing, and Paul came forward, helping her undress, then tucking her in under the blankets.

"Wait!" She called, grabbing his arm, even though he wasn't going anywhere, and she pulled him in close, pushing his face into her chest.

"Paul, Paul, please don't go," she groaned, and Paul climbed on top of her, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms.

"Valerie, I can't do this to you, I can't keep taking advantage of you, you're vulnerable and hurting, but you chose Roger."

"I didn't chose Roger!" Valerie sobbed, breaking down in his arms, clutching his skin in her fingers, digging deep into his flesh. "I chose you! I chose you!"

"But-" Paul pulled back, but she held tight.

"I told him it was too late!" She sobbed, shaking her head. "I told him he couldn't fix it, I told him I didn't want to fix it!"

Paul's heart was thumping so loud he could hear it. He leaned back and lied there, eyes wide, his jaw dropping, and she picked up her head.

"I was- I was going to surprise you. He didn't believe me, he told me we'd figure it out when he got back, but I was already talking to a lawyer, I wanted, I wanted to show you the paperwork, but then I- I got the call!"

Valerie trembled as she broke down, crying and clinging to Paul for a long time before she finally regained herself.

"He l-l-left me everything!" She sobbed, and Paul sat up, taking her in his arms and cradling her. "He didn't have kids, I was going to leave him, and then he dies and leaves me everything!"

Paul held her, rocking her back and forth slowly, unsure of what to say.

"And here I am, rich as can be, and nothing to spend it on. All the time in the world, and nobody to spend it on, because I lost you too!"

Paul shook his head, grabbing her neck and bringing her face close to his.

"You didn't lose me," Paul told her, kissing her, and she wrapped her arms around him, moaning and whimpering.

"You never lost me."

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

Paul woke up the next day to an empty bed. The last thing he remembered was cradling Valerie as she drunkenly sobbed, slowly falling asleep.

He got up and slowly got dressed, walking downstairs to find Valerie, sitting at the dining room table, a bloody mary in her hand, sipping it slowly, looking up at him and smiling, bags under her eyes, wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair frazzled, only smudged make up from the night before on her face.

"Oh shit," she groaned, rubbing her head as Paul walked down the stairs. "Don't look at me, I look terrible."

"You look beautiful," Paul smiled.

"Shut up," She smiled, standing up. "I figured I'd at least have another hour or two before you woke."

"Couldn't sleep," Paul smiled, leaning against the table in front of her, and she scooted towards him, wrapping her arms around his leg and leaning against him.

"Thank you for staying the night," she whimpered, and Paul pet her hair.

"You're welcome," Paul smiled, pushing her back. "Here, you just relax."

He walked off, grabbing the kitchen trash can and tying up the overflowing bag, carrying it to the front door.

"Paul, you don't have to-" Valerie started, but Paul smiled at her.

"Hush." He laughed, then nodded at her drink. "Haven't you had enough to drink? For maybe a couple weeks? Months?"

Valerie snorted, hiding her face, then turned back, blushing at him.

"I've been on a bender since our rainy day in the park," she admitted, sniffling and wiping a tear away. "The cumulative hangover would probably kill me, best to ease myself off slowly."

Paul smiled, walking off and grabbing another trash bag, filling it with the empty bottles and spent tissues, letting her rest while he cleaned.

"You weren't too drunk last night, were you?" He finally asked.

"Too drunk to what? Remember embarrassing myself by being a sloppy, drunken mess?" She smiled, standing up, but Paul shook his head.

"Sit down, relax," he told her, and she fell back down.

"Yes sir," she whispered, and Paul smiled.

"So you remember?" Paul asked, his heart beating.

"Yes, I remember everything," she smiled faintly.

"Good," Paul told her, walking off and getting the broom, fumbling as he swept up the broken glass on the floor.

"You should hate me, you know," Paul finally admitted, once all the trash was cleared, and Valerie looked up at him, a curious look on her face.

"For what?" She asked, and He slumped down next to her, taking her hand.

"Blackmail? Forcing you to commit adultery, using you, preying on your vulnerabilities, your loneliness?" He asked, and she grabbed her hand.

"Do you regret it?" She asked.

"I regret how I treated you," he admitted, "but I don't regret being with you."

"Do you love me?" She stared at him, and he looked up, into her big, beautiful eyes, and nodded.

"Yes," he whispered.

"And you still want me to be your kitten?" She asked, and he smiled.

"Yes, of course I do," he said, reaching out to her, but she slapped his hand away.

"Not so fast, Paul Scott," She snapped, eyeing him suspiciously. "You know, you're right, you've done some pretty fucked up stuff these past couple weeks, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Paul admitted, sheepishly.

"I could take that flash drive to the police, or worse, your mother!" Valerie smiled, leaning forward. "I could tell everyone about how you blackmailed me, threatened me, used me, even whored me out to your friends!"

Paul's heart sank, but he knew this is what he deserved, this and worse, and he nodded.