What More Can a Woman Ask For?

My ex boyfriend is an asshole, arrogant and cocky, inconsiderate and always wanting to dominate every situation. All of which is good when it comes to the bedroom but annoying when it comes to real life. Yet, though I now have a respectful fiance who considers my feelings, opens the doors for me, shows me to my future in-laws, I still find myself answering my ex's calls and messages. Even when I'm with my fiance.

Well, one day, my fiance found out about all of this and more after searching through my phone while I was in the bathroom shaving my vaginal area. After I came out the bathroom I knew that something was up because he was staring at me, agitated. What? I asked him. Immediately he said, Your ex. Then pointed at my phone. I was so shocked that the towel wrapped around my body, covering my breast down to my ass, just seemed to loosen and fall by itself.

But not only was I shocked, I was worried about what my fiance was about to do. I badly wanted to have the wedding we'd been excitedly planning for the last year and now...I just didn't want such a stupid mistake to ruin my big day. If the wedding got called off then everybody would be asking why, for what and suspecting their own theories.

So I walked over, slowly, to my fiance and tried to console him. But as I took his hand in mine and began apologizing, he forcefully shoved me into the wall, causing me to fall into the corner. I was now not only shocked, but hurt and devastated. And my tears began to fall as my fiance stormed out the door, slamming it closed.

When I finally picked myself up, limping and all, I patted all around the mattress to find my phone. I was pissed at my fiance but even more pissed at my ex because I had asked him, over and over again, to stop randomly calling and texting me. I had even told him that my fiance and I had a "no password phone policy", so that we could develop trust. So I had explained to him that, at anytime, my fiance could check my phone. And I had actually thought my ex got the point because he had ceased to continue his random calls and messages, and instead, he would send me a coded facebook message under a fake account if whenever wanted to talk to me. That's how we kept in touch.

But I should have known that, with him being domineering and possessive of me, that me telling him that my fiance can check my phone at any moment would only give him ideas of being the alpha male over my fiance.

"The inconsiderate muthafucka!" I thought as I grabbed my phone from under a pair of worn panties, ready to call him up and curse his ass out.

Then that's when it hit me, right in the face, that not only had he sent me text messages, but he had had the nerve to also send me video messages, recent videos of him and I. I even had the same new weave ponytail in that my fiance had helped me pick out and bought. And in the video he had his thick manly hands pulling it as I gave him head on my living room couch. Tons of salvia just falling from my mouth as I worked the 8 and a half inches of his shaft with my fat pink bubble lips. Seriously. The Salvia was dripping down between my cleavage and all. Then to make matters even worst, my fingers had that same salvia webbed between them, covering my wedding ring, as I jacked his dick into my mouth, swallowing his load.

In the next scene I was on our -me and my fiance's bed- being recorded from the back as the same dick slid in and out of me, pulling my ponytail like I was a fucking horse. As I turned the volume up I was even more shocked because there he was feeding me degrading comments and questions about who's dick was better to which, unable to clearly think, I was crying his name out as king of kings. Which caused him only to speed up, give a final thrust and then squirt out a creampie, into my red swollen pussy. The close up that he got of the mess, slowly dripped down from my pussy lips and finally landed down onto my fiance's side of the bed.

"Omg!!!" I said feeling stupid. "Fuck!!!" I cried as the video ended with me temoring on the bed.

Immediately, I began to dial my ex in a rage. But just then the front door abruptly pushed opened and my fiance stormed in.

I dropped the phone.

"Baby baby please let me explain." I began to plea.

But all he did was push me out the way, grab a suitcase, fill it up and leave. Even though I was crying, hysterically the entire time, he still wouldn't talk to me. All he did was grab my face like he wanted to squeeze it and said soft but firmly, "It's over." Then sped away.

As I watched his car disappear out the apartment complex, I was so mad that I could barely talk, not even to curse out my ex. Had it not been for the next message he sent, of a oops face emoji with the words, "My bad boo. Forgot that nigga b all thru ya phone. Won't happen again." Had it not been for that I would not have called him.

But I did. I called his ass up, cursed him out, letting him know how he had ruined my marriage, made my fiance pack and leave and made me look like a fool. I also let him know that he had broken our creep rules, so it waa over, "For good!". Then I hung up. All to which he simply texted back, "Lol.That's what good dick do. Shoulda stayed at the nest. But now that he's gone think I'll cum thru. Lol."

After that, I just turned my phone off and cried myself to sleep, hoping to escape my mistakes.

I must've slept for hours because when I woke up it was night outside. Moving to sit upward in my bed I yawned and gradually began to recall all that had happened until it all hit me like an anvil.

I felt like a complete slut which made me feel naked. Here I was French kissing my future hubby, day in and day out, while at the same time giving my ex head on demand. Here I was smiling at his parent's during family get togethers talking about having his kids within 2 years after graduating college. All the while I was still allowing my ex raw access and occasional creampies. Of which my ex convinced me to have my fiance give me money to pay for the morning after pill. There I was in love with a good man with a good job as an accountant but still allowing my ex, who still got his money from the streets, to have me as if he put a ring on my finger. There I was looking like some ungrateful black slut. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, knowing I'd fucked up.

But just then, a gleam of hope shone through the gray clouds over my head and I heard the front door open. My fiance, I thought, He's back. I swear my heart skipped a beat I was happy. But still, I didn't want to show it so I quicly laid back down, covering my head with my pillow, pretending sleep. As I did so I listened to his footsteps walk towards me. They sounded calm. My heart smiled again, though now beating faster. Then, all of a sudden the footsteps, stopped, right at the head of our bed. From this point all I heard was breathing. Heaving yet calm breathing. At this point I was hoping for make up sex, as crazy as that might seem. I just wanted it so bad so that I could hurry up and move past my error. Which would never happen again because after the hot wet make up sex I'd never talk to my ex again or cheat. Promise. No matter how much better of a dick he used to shove into me.

Well, my hopes suddenly began to materialize in the pitch black darkness of our bedroom as I suddenly felt fingers begin to caress my pussy lips and massage my clitoris and slowly begin to finger me. Thick manly fingers that made my pussy run and faint. Thick manly fingers that wouldn't allow me to finge sleep and forced me to moan and move my hips, craving make up sex. These were thick manly fingers that just seemed to know my body and how to read my mind. And before I knew it these thick manly hands led me unto all fours, pulling aside my wet fabric like a cool breeze to a clothesline. They were so seductive that somehow I'd forgotten that they felt more like my ex's hands than those of my fiances. Which made me suddenly open my eyes wide and gasp.

But by then it was too late. The pleasure of a warm thick and throbbing penis head was entering me, my wet kitty, sending electricity throughout my body. Then gradually the easing of inch after inch after inch crept down my pink velvet tunnel until I realized, while trapped in ecstasy, that the dick that was now sliding in and out of my kitty might not only not be that of my fiance, but neither my ex's. It was felt bigger and way fucking better. And it wasn't even all the way in.

But what was I to do in the pitch black darkness of my bedroom after being turned on like this and with a dick in my pussy that was stretching it with slow strokes, invading my pussy with teasingly pushes? The only thing I could do was ask retheortically, between moans, "Rob...Robert daddy. That daddy dick?" But after I laid the side of my face on the matress, giving in completely, I felt the rest of the dick slide in, shocking me and letting know that it wasn't even my ex's 8 and a half inch dick.

Fear and pleasure burst throughout my 200 pound, 5 feet 2 chocolate body. It made me want to scream out like a rape victim but each scream would only come out as if I was an amateur in a porn video, getting some good dick. It was so humiliating and violating but at the same time it felt so good that, I felt glued to his dick, thick like a cucumber and as long as a foot. I was so mad and happy at the same time as he handled my phat 45 inch ass like pizza dough -gripping, stretching and squeezing- that I squirted off of the thought and feeling of helplessness alone. The feeling so fucking primal. No permission no remorse. Just an act of selfishness that by default gave me pleasure as a plus, a derivative.

Then to make matters even better I felt his two fingers slide out my ass (wondering when they first entered) and then the his huge head struggle into my 3rd hole, using my cum as lubricant. Of course, because I hadn't been worked back there for a while, I pleaded with this stranger. But he only ignored me, pushing my face down, hurting my neck, slapping my ass. Which really hurt.

The rest was history.

After he made me cum a myriad of times I just found myself on my knees, saliva drooling from my chin, covering my wedding band as I tried to fit him into my mouth and finish him off.

After what seemed like an hour of this I finally felt him tense up. He pulled out and began pumping over my leaning head that now focused on his sack. My God! It was like a 5 pound bean bag that smelt like testerone carrying heat waves. I was so turned on by this display of manhood that I came again as I fingered myself.

And then his grand finale came. I position myself as he pumped his dick. Pulling my head back by my ponytail he made me tilt my head back as I said, "Ahhhhh." Then he grunted something in Spanish and out splurted a hot goo right between my eyes. Then the next two on my forehead and nose. Then I rewrapped my thick lips back around him and pulled the rest out with my soupcoolers. The rest which was a lot. But I managed to suck it all down, thick and sticky as it was, while experiencing his high salt content.

As I looked up at him in the now manageable darkness, I swiped and gathered his first splurts onto my fingers and sucked them clean.

"Gracias, morena." I heard him say.

Then, as I remained on my knees becoming sober, he searched around for his clothes, gathered them and got dressed.

"Who are you?" I whispered feeling used.

He laughed pulling up his pants, fixing his belt.

In broken English I heard him say, "I am Dominican mami."

"No. Who are you?"

I got up from my knees.

Standing in front of him in the dark I could tell that he was easily 6 feet 4 and somewhere on the burly side. Not fat but stocky and manly. He made me feel small like a little girl.

Placing his thick manly hands on my shoulder he said, "Don't worry you. Next door I live."

Then he pulled me into him. And for some reason I rested against his chest. Why? I don't know why. I just did. I just felt like after what had happened, that I belonged to him. That because he was so bold in his endeavor of walking in without pernission and taking another man' pride, that I belonged to him. But even though I felt that way he only returned my gesture by slamming his thick manly hands down on my ass and squeezing my entire left cheek with it, as if it were nothing. Then he leaned down as if he were to kiss me but only ended up swiping some of his sperms from my pink bubble lips and pushing one of the same fingers he used on my pussy and ass earlier, into my mouth. To which I sucked off without a trace of hesitation.

Then he left me standing in the middle of the room. I never even saw his face.

The next morning I was woken by a phone call. It was my fiance. When I answered I immediately began talking fast and upset but he only cut me off, telling me that he was outside with a moving truck and to open the door.

Nude, I only put on my satin gown and went and opened the door. Seconds later he walked up and in right pass me with a man dressed as a mover. As I watched him with folded arms, they gathered his belongings and carried them out.

As they picked up their last load which was a stereo set I heard my fiance thank the mover.

"Amigo, you're a lifesaver. Thanks for giving me the hook up."

The mover smiled and just said ok as if he barely understood.

"You moved in over here just in time."

I made a confused face unsure of what I'd just heard my fiance say. And though I wanted clarity, I decided not ask out of fear of what I was thinking it meant, being true. Instead, I just watched them carry the speakers out.

Still standing by the door with my arms folded I waited hoping that my fiance would come back upstairs at least once more so that we could talk. But after the footsteps I heard coming up the steps only turned out to only be that of the mover, I was disappointed and pissed.

I moved pass the threshold, angrily, and yelled down the steps, "Really? Are you fucking serious? You could at least say one fucking word to me."

Silence.

"José," he yelled up. "I'll be outside in your van waiting."

"Ok. Ten minutes and bathroom." José replied.

"Cool amigo."

José smiled again. Then my fiance disappeared.

Seconds later I saw José staring at me. I stared back. Then he walked up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, calling me "Morena."

Fuck. I had been so caught up with my fiance that I...And I had neither seen him clearly last night nor knew he'd just moved into our building until last night. But now...

José pulled me into his apartment, sat down on his couch and unzipped his pants. I dropped to my knees, crawled to him and smiled. My latin matador was back, alledgedly to help his, "Amigo". Yeah, he was helping alright. He was helping himself to seconds, of another man's fiance. And by now I just didn't give a shit because that's how my fiance was treating me. So I effortlessly went to work on my new Latin Papi sausage giving him what I was planning on giving my asshole fiance as a form of apology. And I did it all with no sympathy.

This might sound evil but I even made sure that I prolonged my pink bubble lips being wrapped around his heartless manhood so that my fiance had to wait longer. I made sure that at least 30 minutes went by so that he'd get frustrated and come up the stairs like I wanted him to earlier. And, like some puppet on a string, he did just that.

By now I was feeling bold. With dick on my tongue, gums and lips, I looked up at a closed eyed José and, letting his dick pop from my mouth, I brought it back down, deepthroating. José absently moaned. Just then, I heard a knock on his door.

"Jose? You good?"

I looked up to see José nodding.

I let his dick pop from my mouth again. Then let it fall back down and make an obvious slurping sound as it went back up. José moaned again. I grinned seeing that he was so far in that he didn't give a fuck. And neither did I. I figured that my life with my fiance was over anyway and that regardless I could never go back to his 7 and a half inches anyway. So when he knocked again I began giving that nasty submissive moan as you suck dick type head, with wet suction sounds to top it off. The kind of head that I used to give him, my fiance, whenever I wanted something; which, in this case, was his attention.

And my moans, slurping and suction finally got it. Before I knew it I was blowing José as my fiance walked through our apartment calling my name. By the time he'd finished searching all over our apartment for me, under the rug and all, he went to knocking on José's door again.

"Si morena, si mami." José moaned in a low whisper like he did the night before. "Si."

My fiance knocked again.

"Yes" José moaned. Then, with a clearer voice he said, "I am coming."

After which I picked my speed back up and re-tightened my rhythm, grinning, knowing that a bunch of questions and correlations were running through my fiance's head.

Yet, all he had to do to find out was twist that knob, ever so slightly, and Pandora's box would be open.

But instead he said, uncertainly, "Ok man. Just hurry up and come."

Then he mumbled to himself and went back down the stairs.

As soon as he did, José tensed up and began fucking my face like a piñata. Then like a piñata, he exploded in my mouth, bucking his hips, stroking. All the while I sucked out all of his heavy paste salsa, not skipping a beat. When I sensed that he was all drained, I let his dick pop from my mouth again and looked up and gave him a smile. He smiled back down at me.

Then he got up , tightened his clothing and left me in yet another room. I had finally seen his face.

And this time I could understand his cold departure. He had work to do.

When José and my fiance returned, so that José could go back to his apartment and so that my fiance could get his car, my fiance finally came back and talked to me.

In the living room he asked me "Where were you earlier when I came into the apartment, calling you? You said you wanted to talk but then just disappeared."

Really? He knew that he didn't come back to talk to me. Neither was he back now to talk to me simply because I wanted to talk to him. Obviously, he was now worried, curious about something.

"I was across the hall talking woman to woman with Kelly, because, you didn't want to hear me out."

He took a deep breath somewhat relieved.

"Well, look, let's talk now that I've finally cooled down."

I closed the front door then stood in front of him. Immediately I noticed how he wasn't as tall or bulky as José. In fact, in comparison he looked small. No offense. He's 6 feet and all but there's still a clear difference.

"Look," he began, "I cheated once before too. Me and my coworker. We were drunk and she gave me head."

That took me by surprise. I was definitely not expecting that.

"Oh," I said trying to sound a bit hurt.

"Yeah, so I wouldn't be right to go on how I've going on."

"I wish you would've mentioned all of this before you pushed me down."

"Hey, I'm sorry. But when I read those messages talking about how he wished he could eat you out, I went blank. I was just mad. It wasn't you're fault that he texted you. "

Wait. What? Huh? What? Wait a minute. Did he even see the video messages? Did he even read through the messages for that matter? Perhaps my ex had sent all of the incriminating evidence after my fiance put the phone down. Or perhaps he didn't want to read past the first text messages just like he didn't want to twist the door knob to José's apartment. Perhaps. But I wasn't certain and definitely wasn't going to ask, ruining his apology. I just pried deeper for more info in the most indirect way I could.

"Look," I began, "I told him to stop calling and texting me. But he's jealous of you and feels that he missed out. And I don't want to change my number because it's the one that everyone knows. So he keeps calling and texting me trying to rekindle the flame."