by B. M. Hardin
Dakota’s mother pulled in behind me with the boys, before I’d even got out of the car. The boys greeted me, grabbed the house keys, and once they were inside of the house, Mrs. Tilda spoke.
“You look horrible. Leave him. Or do something about it already.”
That was easier said than done, but she was right. It was time to do something. Sitting around being quiet and stalking him wasn’t going to fix the problem.
At the end of the day, Dakota was still my husband. And I wasn’t going to just let him continue to cheat on me. It was more than about the money to me. It was about principle and respect. And it was about Chanel.
I thought long and hard, and then I got an idea.
I asked Dakota’s mother if she could stay over for dinner and sit with the boys for a while and after she agreed, I headed upstairs to call in a little favor.
I called my brother Nicolas; better known as Slick Nick. He’d gotten the name from all of the robberies he’d done back in the day, without getting caught.
As far as I knew, he’d slowed down a bit, but hopefully not so much where he couldn’t help me out.
I’d always wanted more for him.
More than the criminal record, the hand full of baby mamas and all of that other stuff. But he was family. And he was the only family that I had. I always looked out for him. That’s what big sisters were for. And with what I had in mind, I knew that he was the only one that I could trust. And he was the only one that I knew of that could get the job done.
“Hey bro. I need a favor.”
After talking to my brother, I cooked dinner and once the boys were fed and comfortable on the couch with their grandma, I changed, and after locating my husband and seeing that he was still at his office, I headed his way.
I got there within a few minutes. I smiled at the other workers as I walked towards Dakota’s office. A few of them just stared at me. I figured it was either because I was the boss’s wife or because I was wearing a long trench coat. It was early Fall, but it was still hot as hell in the South.
I entered Dakota’s office and he froze mid-stride. He had changed out of the suit that he’d been wearing that morning. He now had on jeans, a t-shirt and a plaid button up.
Busted!
“I thought you had to work late?”
“Uh, yeah baby. I changed my mind. I was just about to call you.”
Um huh. He saw me glance at his clothes.
“I spilled coffee all over myself earlier. This was all I had in my trunk. What are you doing here?”
“Well, since you said that you had to work late and was going to miss dinner, I figured that I would bring you something to eat,” I said to him, closing his office door and opening my long coat. I was damn near naked. I was up to something, but he didn’t need to know that.
Dakota grinned.
“Well, I am a little hungry. And it looks like you brought me a snack.”
My husband dropped his bag and headed towards me. As soon as I was within his reach, he pulled me close to him. I allowed him to kiss me.
Every single time that we’d had sex, since finding out about his affair, I’d faked it. My focus had been solely on being nasty and satisfying him, and not so much as being pleased myself. But this time, I wanted to give him something real. I wanted to give him something that he could feel. And not to mention that this was the only way to keep him away from that house.
I was fighting for my husband, and my marriage, whether he knew it or not, and as much as I hated to admit it, I still loved him.
I pushed Dakota towards his desk, but he had other plans. He picked me up and carried me over to his office sofa. With me still in his arms, he sat down and leaned back. I could feel him tugging at my panties, and just like he always did, he ripped them at the sides, exposing my most prized possession. With his head now resting up against the arm of the couch, he pulled my pussy towards his face. Placing one foot on the floor and another one in the crease of the sofa behind his head, I cooed as he tasted me.
Dakota had always been dangerous with his tongue and even I, one secretly frustrated, pissed off wife, couldn’t deny the pleasure that his mouth supplied. That tongue of his had magic powers. I swear, he could wake up a coma patient with his mouth. It was just that damn good.
He palmed my ass as he motioned for me to move back and forth on his face. It didn’t take long for my body to heat up, and I tried not to make too much noise. Dakota’s grunts were loud. It was as though he didn’t care if anyone heard him.
“Ride daddy’s tongue baby,” I heard him mumble. And the faster I rocked my hips, the faster he licked and the more he growled. I closed my eyes and placed my hand over my mouth.
Dakota started to use his fingers. He pushed them deeper and deeper inside of me, causing me to bite my bottom lip.
“Whose pussy is this, huh?” He moaned. I didn’t answer his question. I opened my eyes, just to look at him. I was so turned on that I felt as though I was about to explode…until I caught a glimpse of myself in the long mirror that was hanging on the wall behind the couch.
For some reason, the look of contentment on my face made me feel like a fool. And somehow, it made me think of Chanel.
What if he’d been on his way to do this to her? Immediately, I was out of the mood, but apparently. my two-faced vagina didn’t get the memo, because seconds later, her creams of satisfaction filled up Dakota’s mouth.
“Um huh, that’s what I’m talking about. Now bend that ass over.” Dakota moved quickly, and before I could blink, I was on my knees, and he was behind me on the sofa. He didn’t hesitate to go inside of me and I felt his thumb enter my butthole. He always did weird, little suspect shit during sex, but I’d always let him have his way with me.
I noticed that Dakota’s strokes were different.
Usually, he was slow and gentle, as though he wanted to take his time with me. But at this moment, this time, he pounded me as though he was angry. As though he was in a hurry. As though…he was screwing someone else.
I gripped the cushions to maintain my position, but something in the side of the couch caught ahold of my fingers. Slowly, I pulled at it. The sight of the red thong in between my fingers caused me to curse aloud.
“What the fuck?” Dakota smacked my ass as though I’d been talking to him.
Of course, the thong wasn’t mine.
So, he was fucking Chanel here too? On this very couch? Probably in this exact position.
I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I no longer felt as though I was having sex with my husband. I felt as though I was being violated.
Completely disgusted, I stuffed the thong back into the couch’s crease, just as Dakota moaned and released himself inside of me. He kissed my left butt cheek and hurriedly I got up.
“Shit! That’s exactly what I needed baby,” he said and kissed my lips, once I stood up beside him.
“Dakota---,” I started to say, just as his phone started to ring. He headed to look at it, but he didn’t pick it up. He simply started to get himself together and then he replied to me. “Yes?” He asked.
Maybe I just hadn’t noticed it before, but since I’d found out about the affair, he never answered his phone in front of me these days. Ever. Unless it was his mother.
I opened my mouth to speak, but his phone started to ring again. He grabbed it and placed it in his pocket, while it was still ringing.
“Yes?” He repeated.
“Nothing.” I said, covered up and then he grabbed my hand.
“I don’t know about you, but after all of that, I’m hungry---for real food this time,” he smiled.
I simply nodded.
We headed out of the office, hand and hand.
Dakota suggested that I leave my car and pick it up the next morning, so we rode in his car together, and for only a moment, things felt---normal. Everything felt right.
He talked and talked and even made jokes as we stopped to get take-out. He was being affectionate and ev
en complimenting me on random things that I did for him and the kids, but I couldn’t get the thong out of my mind and the only thing I could seem to focus on was his never-ending ringing phone. And not once did he answer it. Or take it out of his pocket to look at it.
I asked him why he was ignoring the calls, and all he said was that it was probably a work client, or associate, and that whoever it was, could wait because he was spending time with me. I even made a joke saying that it better not be another woman. All he said was that it wasn’t.
It amazed me how he could lie to me so easily. As though he wasn’t even trying. As though it was normal.
He did most of the talking, and I simply pretended to be enjoying his company and then finally, after a while, we headed home.
Dakota’s mother decided to stay over and I took a seat beside her on the couch. She was watching the news. Immediately, inside, I became nervous as Dakota entered the living room, and sat on the other side of me.
And that’s when I saw it.
On the news, I saw the house, Dakota’s secret house, up in flames. The news said that they didn’t know what had caused the fire and that the owners weren’t home and that they were trying to reach them.
Maybe that’s who had been calling him.
With no questions asked, my brother had come through for me. I’d told Nick that I had two grand with his name on it if he could or if he could get one of his homeboys to burn that damn house down…today!
I needed to take some kind of action. And so, I did. And just like I knew that he would, my brother had gotten the job done.
I glanced at Dakota.
He sat still, somewhat lifeless, as he stared at the T.V. His facial expression refused to change, but I could tell that he was bothered. I could tell that he was pissed, but he couldn’t show it.
So, I decided to pour salt on his open wound.
“Oh, my goodness! Imagine coming home to find your house up in flames. I wonder what happened. I’m glad no one was home or got hurt,” I commented, though a part of me wished that Chanel had been inside.
Dakota sat back on the couch.
“I know right. That’s crazy,” was all he said.
I didn’t respond. I simply turned away from him and smiled. I looked up to see Dakota’s mother, looking right at me.
She was smiling too.
~***~
“Didn’t your dad die from cancer?” I asked Dakota.
Dakota hadn’t had to “work late” or go on a “business trip”, since his house burned down. It had been over a month and he was home every night, and more than he had been for probably the last six months. Though he never so much as mentioned the house or what had happened to it to me.
“Yeah. Why?”
I shrugged. Of course, I was asking because the comment that his mother had made about killing his father, had crossed my mind. I figured that she was probably just pulling my leg. “You were like twelve, right?”
“Yeah. He was diagnosed when I was nine. He refused to get chemo. That stubborn old man. He lived three whole years longer than the doctors said that he would. He made the best of them too. Some of the best memories of my life. And then one night, he went to sleep, and never woke up again.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d had a little help with that.
“Oh.”
Dakota walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “After you leave lunch with Chevey today, come by my office.”
“Why?”
“Just to see me and make my day.” He kissed me on my forehead and my heart started to melt.
“Okay.”
Dakota headed out of the room with a smile, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t smile too.
Maybe things were going to be okay after all.
Was I over the fact that I knew that he’d cheated on me with Chanel? No. I couldn’t say that I was.
But I was hoping that it was all over. I was hoping that it was just the result of a mid-life crisis or something. Because regardless of how hurt and mad I was, I still loved him. And a month of consistency had given me just a little hope for the future. I was willing to forgive him and his adultery as long as it was over.
With happy thoughts, I managed to get a few things done, until Chevey came to pick me up for our weekly lunch date.
“So, I’m dating someone. I have been for a while, I just didn’t want to tell anyone and jinx it,” she squealed, as soon as we took our seat.
Chevey had the worst luck with men that I’d ever seen! Though she tried, she always ended up with the same type of guy; the lazy, baby-mama drama, no job having, staying with his mama, eating up all of your food, kind of man. Hell, she’d always ended up with someone like my brother.
“Oh God,” I whined.
“No. You would approve of him. He’s a lawyer girl.”
“Married?”
“Nope.”
“Divorced?”
“Nope.”
“Kids?”
“Nope.”
“Ugly?”
“Hell no.”
“A thumb-dick?”
“What the hell is a thumb-dick, Yaya?”
“You know, a little mini-winni,” I laughed as I wiggled my thumb.
“Girl, not even close!” Chevey chuckled and took a sip of her drink.
“Well alrighty then! What’s his name?”
Chevey talked about him with excitement. I could tell by the smile on her face that she was already in love with him. I could only hope that he was the one, finally.
We were in our thirties now and it was time to get the ball rolling. She’d never been married, didn’t have any kids, and I could tell that she was starting to wonder if she would be alone forever. And even though at the moment, I felt like love was a pile of bullshit, if anyone deserved it, it was Chevey.
Unlike Chanel, Chevey was like a breath of fresh air. She was sweet and caring. She was dependable and she was the best friend that anybody could ever ask for. She was one of those people that didn’t ask for much, but was always willing to give her last. She always knew just what to say and she was always ready to act a fool with me, if need be. She was so genuine, in everything that she did, and the man that finally got to marry her, should consider himself lucky.
“Hold on,” she said, and answered her phone. “What’s up Chanel?”. I stared at her at the sound of her name. “What? Where? Okay, I’m not far from there. I’ll ride down the street until I see you.”
Chevey hung up and grabbed her keys. “Come on. I gotta’ go pick up Chanel. She said that she is on the side of the road. She ran out of gas. She said that Jerome wasn’t answering his phone, so I have to go get her.”
I wanted to tell her to drop me off at home, but I didn’t. And I was glad that I hadn’t because I couldn’t help but notice that the more Chevey drove, the closer we got to my husband’s job.
And I’ll be damned if we didn’t pull up right in front of it. Chanel’s car was right in the entrance as though she was pulling out of the parking lot and it cut off.
“What are you doing on this side of town?” Chevey asked her, as she got out of the car.
“Fucking my husband,” I mumbled, but Chevey didn’t hear me.
I was disappointed.
I really thought…I really hoped…
I really…wanted to fuck him up!
“I was headed to meet a friend from work and I pulled off the road into the parking lot, just before it cut off,” Chanel lied. Her car was facing the road as though she was leaving. Not as though she was pulling in.
I wondered why she didn’t get Dakota to help her instead of calling Chevey. I mean she was fucking him and all. And you mean to tell me that she couldn’t ask him for help or to take her to get gas?
She was a stupid kind of slut, wasn’t she?
Chanel walked around the car to the passenger side. When she saw me sitting in the passenger seat, she rolled her eyes and got in the backseat.
“Hey Yaya
,” she grunted.
“Bitch don’t speak to me,” I growled. Chanel smacked her lips. Chevey got back into the car after getting her gas can out of her trunk.
“You’re right here at Dakota’s office. You should’ve walked right in there and asked him to help you,” Chevey said, pointing, and I turned to look at her. “What? He would’ve helped her get some gas,” she giggled, but I didn’t.
“Hmm, I didn’t know that was his office,” Chanel mumbled.
“Yes, you did. Remember you rode with me to drop off my computer that day. When he cleaned off the virus,” Chevey said. I remembered that day. I wondered if that was the day Chanel and my husband somehow decided to become acquainted.
“Oh yeah. Right,” was all she said.
Chevey drove her to the gas station and she got out of the car with the gas can. “I’m going to run in and get me something to drink. You want something?” I shook my head no. Chevey ran to catch up with her twin. I watched them enter the store from the rearview mirror.
I knew Chanel hadn’t taken her purse, so I took off my seatbelt, and turned to the backseat.
Oh. And she’d left her phone. I didn’t hesitate to pick it up. Of course, she had a lock on it. She was a simple bitch. Maybe the passcode to her phone was simple too.
I tried their birthday. Nope. Not it.
After thinking for only a few seconds longer, I figured that I wouldn’t figure it out, so I put it down and started to look through her purse. I couldn’t help but notice that I had a purse just like it. He’d bought us the same bag?
There was no way that Chanel could afford this. It had to be a gift from Dakota. Rolling my eyes, I saw them both head towards the counter, so I moved faster.
Chanel had a pair of panties in one of the side pockets.
“Ugh,” I could only assume they were the ones that she’d just taken off because they were ripped at the sides; Dakota’s signature.
Damn it! He was still sleeping with her! I mean, I figured that when we’d picked her up from the parking lot, but the panties confirmed it. And then again, maybe the panties had been in her purse for a while. They had a smell to them. The panties smelled like a perch and flounder plate, minus the tartar sauce. I could smell the stench on them from a distance. Dakota was big on hygiene so I knew for a fact that there was no way in hell that he’d just had sex with Chanel if her pussy smelled like that.