I tried, I really did.
I ended things (read: the dirty texting & fooling around) with my ex as the end of COVID, and his wedding, drew closer; but the little slut just couldn’t quit me.
One rainy Monday afternoon, after I’d ended things 5 days prior, his name popped up on my phone.
The text read, “I’ve typed this, deleted, typed, deleted, so many times. I’m sorry, but I’m so horny for you Madame.”
This man is addicted to me. And dammit, my body reacted because I am too.
“I know you are, slut,” I respond.
“I have something to confess,” he texts back. And then he sends a picture from his bathroom at the office…showing me he’s in a lacey floral thong…that I did not give him.
“Where did you get that?” I ask.
“Madame…I was so sad thinking this was over…and I was so horny for you…that on Saturday, I drove across town to a Target I never go to and bought it to surprise you with.”
Like I said, he’s addicted to being my bitch. I remind him of this.