Cruel Infidelity

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Heather sips her rum and coke, eyeing Andrew and Tammy closely. Maybe it’s nothing, but they’ve been acting different around each other lately, she’s sure of it. It’s in the way they look at each other, the way they always seem to be facing each other; heavily distracted with one another.

She cautiously glances at Chris, whose gaze shifts from them to his cards to his drink to his cards and back again. He briefly meets her eye and quickly looks away, coughing and clearing his throat. He must see it, too. He has to.

“I’m getting tired,” Heather announces tossing her cards down. Tammy’s smile falls into a line, as she drags her eyes off of Andrew and focuses on her.

“Likewise,” Chris agrees, meeting Heather’s gaze again. “Come on, Tam, let’s wrap this up, huh?”

Tammy slaps her cards onto the table, frowning.

Andrew leans back in his chair, finally looking at something other than Tammy and her lack of tits. “Yeah, I suppose it’s getting late,” he agrees, glancing at Tammy with an air of annoyance.

“Well it was great having you two over, it’s always a blast,” Tammy says, staring at Andrew as she speaks. “Feel free to pop on by whenever you’d like,” she adds, eyeing Heather. She smiles with her mouth, but not with her eyes.

Chris scratches the back of his head, standing awkwardly as Tammy continues to ignore his existence.

“Well give me a hug,” Tammy sings, opening her arms wide as she walks into Andrew. He breaks into a toothy grin, giving her a quick hug, patting her back before breaking free. He immediately turns to Chris, avoiding any further contact with Tammy.

“Nice seeing you again, buddy. Let me know when you’d want to take the bikes out, I’m dying to go riding,” he says, giving him a nudge on the shoulder.

“Oh yeah, you betcha,” Chris replies with audibly feigned enthusiasm.

Tammy glances at Heather. “Great seeing you again. We need to plan some girl time, yeah?” She smiles wide as she haphazardly embraces her.

Before Heather has a chance to hug her back, she’s already pulling away, taking her place next to Chris. “Bye now,” she says, waving as they walk down the hall and out the front door.

Heather twists around, giving a quick wave of her hand and a small smile.

Relief washes over her as soon as Andrew closes the door behind them. She exhales, releasing all the built up tension and anxiety.

* * *

Andrew pushes Heather against the wall, kissing her feverishly. His hands move frantically up and down her body. Heather shoves Andrew away from her. He ignores it and promptly resumes kissing and fondling her, turning her around and ripping her leggings down. “Bend over.” He moans.

Heather obeys, realizing there’s no use trying to get through to him right now. She braces herself, praying he doesn’t try to stick it in her ass again. He slides into her pussy, pounding her so hard that she has to hold herself steady to prevent her head from bouncing off the wall.

As usual, he doesn’t last long. All the built-up sexual tension bursts out of his shaft in under five minutes. She crumbles into herself the second he releases his grip on her.

She pulls her pants up and clears her throat. “Can we talk?”

Andrew groans, buttoning his pants. “Do we have to?”

“It’s just… I’ve noticed lately that any time we spend time with Tammy and Chris that you can’t keep your hands off me after.”

Andrew studies her, his expression suggesting waning patience. “Is that a problem for you?”

She presses her lips together and runs her fingers through her hair. “No, it’s just. Is something going on between you and Tammy?”

“Obviously not,” he answers. “She’s with Chris. He’s my friend.”

“But if she wasn’t with Chris...”

“I hate when you do this. You try to catch me in these stupid theoretical scenarios just so you have a reason to be mad. You find a reason to complain about everything.” He makes his way into the bathroom.

“She’s an old hag!” Heather calls after him as he closes the door.

She stares at the door for a moment, listening as the shower starts. Why does he treat me this way? She’d thought once Rachel was out of the picture he’d calm down, and things would change, but they haven’t. The only good thing that came from Rachel leaving was Andrew agreeing to move in with her and taking over the rent so she wouldn’t have to move back in with her mother. The only stipulation is she works, cleans, and has dinner on the table waiting for him. She needs to keep her colon cleansed as regularly as possible so that he can take her ass whenever he pleases—a chore she’s come to despise.

She’s been delegated to Rachel’s old room when he brings women over. She doesn’t particularly like playing the role of roommate, but she’s willing to do whatever it takes to show him she’s serious about wanting a relationship with him, hoping that maybe someday he’ll see all the sacrifices she’s made.

Heather picks up her phone, tapping on the new message box.

Everything alright? You were quiet tonight.

Heather rolls her eyes. Tammy knows damn well why she was quiet.

It’s just hard being w someone who doesn’t want u, that’s all.

Well I’m always here if you want to talk about it. I know it can’t be easy being in an open relationship, especially when it’s so one sided.

It doesn’t bother me like u seem 2 think. It only bothers me when he does it 2 ppl who r supposed 2 b friends w me!

Nobody is forcing you to be with him.

Heather tosses her phone away from her. Tammy’s always causing trouble. She must be jealous, there’s no other reason for it. She must want to steal Andrew from her, just like everyone else.

She lets out a sigh, pulling open the freezer. She reaches in for a pint of her favorite overpriced ice-cream. “When in doubt, eat it out,” she whispers, chuckling to herself.

“You know I don’t like it when you eat that shit at this hour,” Andrew says from behind her.

She jumps, spinning around. Andrew’s dark hair is soaked and dripping onto his muscled physic. A heavy cotton towel hangs loosely around his torso.

She swallows hard, reflecting on Tammy’s words: Nobody is forcing you.

“Put it down. I have plans for that ass,” he states, closing the distance between them. He pries the container out of her hands. Heather watches as he walks it to the trashcan and tosses it in. “I’m going to shave. I want you naked, face down, and ass up by the time I’m done.”

The moment he disappears into the bathroom her eyes dart to the trashcan. She waits for the buzzing sound of his electric razor to start before fishing out the ice-cream and putting it back into the freezer. She covers it with a couple bags of frozen vegetables so he won’t see.

Andrew had promised it would get better, and that soon she would love anal so much that she’d be begging him for it regularly, but that hasn’t happened. Instead she finds herself dreading it anytime it’s demanded of her. The worst of it was when Andrew made her suck him afterward.

Getting into position, she grits her teeth. Too bad Tammy doesn’t know the real Andrew—the sexually-depraved freak he hides so well.

He appears in the doorway, dropping his towel to the floor. His cock already half mast, hanging low.

She takes in his girth, bracing for what’s to come.

“Oh, don’t tense up, Heather.” He groans. “You need to relax. You need to beg me for this, I’ve told you.”

Heather nods silently.

“Beg me,” he says, exasperated.

She doesn’t answer, too lost in her head. He grabs her flanks roughly, pulling her ass back into his groin. “I said… Beg me, and I won’t ask you again.”

“Please fuck my ass,” she murmurs.

“What? I can’t hear you,” Andrew bellows, holding his hand to his ear for effect.

She exhales, rolling her eyes. “Andy, please fuck me in my ass, I need it.”

“How bad do you need it?” he taunts, rubbing her ass cheeks, spreading them apart.

“So bad, I need your fat cock in my tight hole!” she yells.

“That’s a good girl,” he says approvingly.

A lubed-up cock pushes into her exit, forcing it open. Heather lets out a half-suppressed moan, trying her best to be a good sport. “Yeah, just like that.” she says, hiding her discomfort. “Fuck it just like that.” She winces.

Andrew abruptly pulls out and shoves her away from him. “Never mind!” He sneers. “You’re useless. You can’t even talk dirty without sounding awkward—Do you even like sex? Maybe you should have run off with your lesbo girlfriend, what was her name again?”

Heather stares at him, her mouth more gaped than her ass, brows furrowed.

“I’m going to jerk off into the toilet. Learn to like anal or find someone else to support your lazy, retarded ass,” he snaps. He snatches a pair of boxer shorts out of his top drawer, slamming it shut and leaving the room.

Heather falls into tears the second she’s alone. Sometimes she forgets how easily replaceable she is. She will try harder, she’d be better. Her thoughts turn to Tammy and how much more desirable she is than her. Her body shakes, and she balls her fists. Even Rachel was somehow more desirable to Andrew than her.

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