My Husband's Mistress

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My Husband's Mistress Page 19

by Racquel Williams

He snatched his hand away from me and stood up. “You been lying to me my whole life. Had me calling this man dad, and he wasn’t. Why would you do that, Ma? Why?” he yelled.

  “Calm your voice. I’m sorry, Josiah. I did not know. Baby, I swear I didn’t know.” I cried.

  “So who is my father? Do you even know?”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to tell him that that bum was his daddy, but I saw he was dead serious.

  “This guy named Corey is your father.” I sniffed.

  “That’s the same dude, Dad or Hassan, I don’t even know what to call him anymore, was talking about. You knew he was telling the truth all along.”

  “Josiah, I’m sorry. It was a mistake, baby.”

  “A mistake? You’ve been lying to me for all these years and now you’re telling me it was a mistake. I trusted you, Ma, but my whole life has been a lie. I hate you. I swear I fucking hate you.” He said, opening the door and dashing out.

  “Josiah,” I ran to the door and yelled.

  He ran fast down the stairs. I wanted to run after him, but instead I ran back inside and flopped down on the couch, crying.

  “No God, that’s my baby boy. I’m sorry that I lied to him. I’m sorry.” I cried.

  Any other time, I would say it was going to be all right. But not this time. I knew my child was hurting because of the fucked up decision that I made. I’d lost everything and I couldn’t afford to lose him too. I got up to pour me a glass of wine. I needed to drown out the pain that was burning my insides.

  What else could go wrong? I thought before I took a big gulp.

  Hassan Clarke

  I walked around on pins and needles for days. Every time I saw a police officer while I was driving I kept thinking they were coming for me. I hadn’t heard from that nigga, Dre, and I was too scared to call him in case the police were on to him. I couldn’t believe the nigga fucked up like that. He was supposed to be a certified killer. I shook my head in disbelief.

  I stayed glued to the television whenever I was not at work. I wanted to know if the police had any suspects or witnesses. I started drinking heavily; life was weighing on me. I had one crazy bitch that was trying to put me out of my house, another put a bastard on me that wasn’t even mine, and then one bitch talking ’bout how she was pregnant and now this nigga done fucked up. Fuck my life. There wasn’t shit else that could possibly go wrong. I got a big bottle of Hennessy Black and opened it up, even though I was driving. I was in despair. I wished I had someone to talk to. Shit, I wasn’t going to lie; I missed talking to Imani. She used to be my rock when I was going through shit. I thought ’bout popping up over there, but decided not to. Her motherfucking son was blowing me and I didn’t have the strength to fuck his little ass up tonight. I decided to take my ass home. I didn’t give a fuck if Destiny’s bitch ass didn’t want me there. Fuck that bitch. Matter of fact, I was goin’ fuck that bitch tonight.

  I opened the door and walked up the stairs. The house was quiet, so either she wasn’t home or she was asleep. I walked into the room and quickly noticed she was asleep. I stood there, looking at her. She looked so peaceful. I quickly took off my clothes and got into the bed with her. I started to rub on her shoulder. It didn’t take long for the bitch to wake up and start snapping. This trick needed to be taught a lesson. I was her motherfucking husband and that pussy belonged to me. Her deranged ass started fighting me, but I wasn’t going to give up. I was going to take what was rightfully mine.

  The bitch tried to run out of the room, but she wasn’t going anywhere—not before I got the pussy. My daddy once told me that when a bitch acting like she ’ont want the dick, it really meant that she was begging me to give it to her. Her arrogance only made me angrier and I was determined to fuck her hard, fuck her in her ass raw.

  She tried to slap me, but even in my tipsy state, I was quick to block it. I snapped and grabbed her by the neck and threw her on the bed. I really wanted to choke the life out of that bitch. I would definitely get pleasure out of seeing that bitch in a casket. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about giving her a dime in the divorce.

  I don’t know what happened, but that bitch must’ve gotten the memo that I wasn’t going to cease until I got the pussy. She decided to give me some head, and even though there was nothing special ’bout her head game, it would do right about now because I was tipsy and horny. The minute her mouth touched my dick it sent electric volts through my body. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, and because I was too caught up in the sensation I was getting from her.

  “Aaarghhhhhhhhh,” I screamed out. This dumb bitch sank her teeth down on my dick.

  “Stupid bitch. I’m going to kill you.” I wrapped my hands around her neck; my intention was to break that shit off her body.

  The pain was unbearable; I had to tighten my grip so she knew it was not a game. The bitch finally let my dick go as I continued to squeeze until that ho bit my hand. I let go, but before I could grab that bitch again, she ran out the room. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom. I cut the lights on to examine my dick. I peeped the imprint of her teeth, but luckily for her ass, there was no blood. I got a warm rag and applied pressure to my dick.

  I didn’t chase after that bitch. By now I was no longer tipsy and was in my right frame of mind. I quickly got dressed and left the house. I called Imani’s phone.

  “Hello,” she answered groggily.

  “Yo, what’s good with you? Why you sound like you crying, you good?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. What do you want?”

  “I want to see you.”

  “You know where I’m at.”

  “I’m on the way.”

  On my way over there, all I could think about was my hatred for Destiny. Tomorrow, I would file for a divorce. I didn’t care how much money that bitch thought she would get. She could have all that little chump change in our joint account and I’d pay alimony. There was no reason to keep that good for nothing bitch around.

  * * *

  I banged on the door. It was late and these niggas were robbing people and I didn’t want to become one of their victims. I had to make sure I got a burner; after all, I was a defense attorney and I needed protection.

  “Hey babe, “I walked in.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m tired as shit. I need to lie down.” I walked to the room.

  “Aiight, lie down.”

  It was strange that she didn’t try to argue. Instead, she got into the bed beside me and tried to rub my back. My dick got hard instantly, which made it hurt. Even though I wanted to fuck her, my shit was sore and swollen. There was no way I could even attempt to stick my dick anywhere. I closed my eyes, pretending like I was asleep.

  I was tired, mentally and physically. I needed a break from everything in my life, including all these bitches. I swear, I needed some new hoes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Imani Gibson

  Hassan spent the night for the first time in a long time. Any other time, I would’ve asked why he wasn’t at home with his wife, but this time was different. I was on a mission to get evidence of him sleeping around on his wife. I thought when he got here he would want to fuck, but he surprised me by telling me he was tired and wanted to lay down. Things seemed different. I tried to rub on him, hinting that I wanted to fuck, but he didn’t budge. He lay there until he fell asleep. This is strange, I thought before I dozed off.

  * * *

  The next morning, I awoke to Hassan kissing all over me. I didn’t resist. Even though I was on a mission, I still loved to feel his touch. He still had control over my body, mind, and soul. He kissed my neck, and then slowly made his way down to my stomach. He massaged my clit and then inserted his finger into my moist pussy.

  “Aweee,” I groaned out in ecstasy.

  His touch sent electric volts through my entire body.

  “Daddy, I want you. Please,” I begged for the dick.

  “Relax, I got you.” His head made its way between my legs.
<
br />   I bit down on my lip as he sucked on my clit. I tried my best not to scream because I knew Josiah was in his room.

  “Hmmm. . . Daddy, please fuck me,” I whispered in his ear.

  I wasn’t worried about anything that was being recorded. I was all for myself and my guilty pleasures.

  He ate me out, and I came in his mouth. He slurped up every drop, and then got on top of me. He stuck his dick all the way in, and started long-stroking me. Even though it was touching my soul, I welcomed every inch of his manhood.

  “Oh, oh, I love you, Hassan. I love you, fuck me harder,” I mumbled.

  “I got you babe.” He went deeper, breaking my walls down.

  “Owiee.” I moaned.

  He stabbed harder as I threw the pussy on him. I really missed this. I miss our souls connecting as one. I felt his dick harden as he grabbed my butt, and pulled me closer to him.

  “Aargh,” he groaned loudly.

  “Shhh.” I put my hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds.

  He pulled out, and bust all over my chest. I saw he was being careful. I guess he didn’t want a child with me, after all.

  I lay there for a few minutes. I watched as he got up, put on his boxers, and walked out of the room. I closed my eyes and smiled to myself. My pussy was sore from him pounding my walls. I knew he missed fucking me and I missed having him in my life.

  He walked back into the room, and sat at the edge at the bed.

  “Hey babe, you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about how good that pussy is.”

  I sat up and scooted closer to him. “Really, hm. . .Let me find out you pussy whipped,” I joked.

  “Chill out, B. You know a nigga checking for you, but I just can’t get over the shit you did to me. It still hurts deep down that Josiah ain’t my seed. I just want to know what the fuck did I do to deserve this? Even though, I was out here messing wit’ these other bitches, you always had my heart. You know that.”

  I felt bad that I had put him through this. I wished I could change everything, but it wasn’t possible. I rubbed his shoulder. “Hassan, I am so sorry. I swear to you, I only messed wit’ that boy one time and it was because we both was drinking,” I cried.

  “Imani, this ain’t ’bout you fucking the nigga. You lied and said that Josiah was my seed. I gave you money for him. I provided for y’all. I feel like a fucking fool. I’m embarrassed to go ’round the people I know ’cause I know they laughing about this shit.”

  “Hassan, fuck what e’erybody saying. This is me and you. I felt embarrassed when you went and married that ho, but I still stayed with you. Why can’t you forgive me so we can move on?”

  “Yo, B, it ain’t that easy. I’m a man with pride. My name carries weight in this state.”

  This nigga was pissing me off. He was more worried about how people would look at him instead of worrying about me.

  “Hassan, this is us, boo. I’m patiently waiting on you to divorce Destiny.”

  “Fuck that bitch. She’s dead to me. I don’t ever want to hear you mention her name,” he yelled.

  “Damn, calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m sorry. I ain’t mean to yell at you. It’s just the mention of that bitch’s name drives me crazy. Nobody understands what I go through with her ass.”

  Listening to him, I kind of felt bad for him. I thought about telling him about the plan that Destiny came up with. I swear I didn’t want to help that bitch bring him down.

  “Hassan, I’m going to need some money to pay these bills.”

  “What? You better call that nigga Corey. That nigga was popping all that shit ’bout taking care of you and his seed,” he lashed out.

  “Really, you know damn well Corey don’t have no money.”

  “Ha, ha, so your dumb ass went and fucked a nigga that’s broke, had a baby by him, and now you want little old me to take care of you and that little bastard. Nah B, I love you and all, but you goin’ have to find you another fool.”

  I sat there, looking at this nigga spit venom at me. A few seconds ago, I almost confessed some shit to him but I was happy that I kept my mouth shut because this confirmed that, he was not trying to be with me. I was good for fucking, but not to pay these fucking bills.

  “Get out of my house!” I yelled.

  “What you say to me?” he got up and stared me down.

  I stood up and stared back at him. “You heard me. I said get out of my house. I’m tired of the way you treat me. You know I love you, but I’m tired. You’ve been slinging that dick all over this motherfucking city, and I forgave you. But you act like the shit I did is the fucking worst.”

  He raised his hand and slapped me twice, back to back.

  “Bitch, don’t you ever talk to me like that. You’re a fucking ho. I made you somebody.”

  I held my face, which was still burning from the slap. I decided that I wasn’t going to cry, at least not in front of him.

  “I fucking hate you. Now get out of my shit before I call the police to put you out.” I opened the door.

  “Bitch, fuck you, do you know who I am? I’m Hassan Clarke, the defense attorney.”

  He lunged toward me, grabbed my neck and started to choke me. I tried to scream, but he applied more pressure. He punched me, nonstop in my face, until blood started to spew out. I started to lose consciousness. All I could think about was this being my last time on this earth....

  * * *

  I woke up in the hospital. I could barely open my eyes, but when I forced them open I noticed two uniformed policemen standing over my bed. I knew the hospital must have called them.

  “Ms. Gibson, I’m Officer Maxwell and this is Sergeant Oliver. We’re here to a take a report and possibly file charges on whoever did this to you.”

  Shit just got real, I thought. Hassan had always put his hands on me, but has never gone this far. This time, he bloodied my face and broke my nose.

  I closed my eyes, which were hurting from opening them up.

  “Ms. Gibson, can you tell us, who did this to you?”

  I hesitated, then I spoke, “Hassan Clarke.”

  “Hassan Clarke? That name sounds familiar,” Sergeant Oliver said.

  Oh here we go, these fools knew him. He had always bragged about how he was tight with some of the officers in the Bronx.

  “I got it. Are you talking about the popular defense attorney Hassan Clarke?”

  I hung my head down, “Yes,” I mumbled.

  “Well, tell us what happened.”

  I looked at both of them. They didn’t seem too interested after I told them who did this to me. I didn’t give a fuck. I was tired of covering for a nigga that didn’t give a fuck about me.

  Destiny Clarke

  After last night, I was more determined then ever to get Hassan out of my house. The nigga had been seconds away from raping me, so I knew the next time I might not be as lucky.

  After Amaiya left for school, I went on a rampage. I went through his closet in the spare bedroom, grabbed all his expensive suits and leather, foreign-made shoes. I made several trips inside to make sure I had everything. I got two big bottles of bleach that I had in the basement, put everything in the back yard, and went on a rampage. I emptied the bottles onto everything he owned.

  I was no longer hurting. I was filled with rage. I’d had enough of this bastard playing me and disrespecting me. He had definitely violated me when he tried to take pussy that didn’t belong to him anymore.

  I then grabbed some big trash bags and threw the soiled clothing and shoes into the bags. I took them and dropped them off on the curb. I saw my nosy next-door neighbor outside raking his yard. He looked at me strangely as I pulled the bags to the curb. I smiled at him, turned, and walked back inside.

  I searched through my CD’s and found my old Waiting to Exhale soundtrack.

  “While all the time that I was loving you, you were busy loving yourself. I would stop breathing if you told me to,
now you’re busy loving someone else, eleven years out of my life, besides the kids, I have nothing to show Wasted my years a fool of a wife. I should have left your ass long time ago,” Mary J. Blige’s voice echoed through my Bose surround system.

  I went through the house and one by one, I broke all the pictures that we had taken together. Our wedding pictures included. There was shattered glass everywhere, the exact way my heart was shattered. I kneeled down on my living room floor and I cried my heart out. I cried until there was nothing else in me. No more tears or any other emotions. I felt drained, so instead of cleaning up the mess I made, I decided to take a shower.

  I didn’t feel like driving, so I called Mama and asked her to pick up Amaiya from cheerleading practice. I guess I had dozed off because I was woken up by the phone ringing. I ignored it the first time, but it rang a second time. I got it off the dresser and looked, to see who was calling. It was the handsome Mr. Private Investigator Spencer. I wondered what he wanted since our business dealings were over.

  “Hello, good evening,” I said in a seductive tone, but I quickly corrected myself.

  “Hello Mrs. Clarke, or do you go by a different name?”

  “No, I’m still married. Working on the divorce now,” I chuckled.

  “Oh, I see.” he paused.

  “Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Spencer?”

  “Well, I wanted to invite you out for dinner and maybe we could catch a movie as well.”

  “Oh my, I feel honored, but I am not trying to see anyone. As you know, I’m trying to get out of one messed-up relationship.”

  “I understand that, but it would be good for you to get out and enjoy yourself a little.”

  “I don’t want to sound rude or anything like that, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sorry.”

  “All right, but if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to call.”

  I didn’t say anything and hung up the phone. Oh Lord, his voice did something to me. I smiled to myself, and then the sound of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts.

  I ran downstairs, and peeped out the hole. It was Mama and Amaiya. I opened the door for them.

 

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