Playing Cruel Mind Games With Claudia

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Featured Review on this writing by Nite-Owl

...and then she landed the bombshell: I love my husband, but you broke my heart and I still love you after all this time. I have thought about you every day...

I like to think of myself as fundamentally a nice person though maybe a little weird and more than just a bit kinky. But nevertheless decent, helpful, respectful, hardworking, and financially independent. But sometimes when I look back, I think it’s possible I may have been a bit of a cunt at times. And this is why I need to tell you about Claudia and the 'games' I played on her a good few years ago.

Readers (how I flatter myself with having ‘readers’) of my stories will perhaps recall my kinky tale of how I swatted her very hard with a table tennis bat prior to shagging her immediately afterwards – it was just so horny and exciting. What I didn't tell you was that the last time I saw her was on my twenty-first birthday. It was also the last time I ever made love to her as well. The last time I viewed her tits with the sexy mole on the mound of her left breast. The last time I savoured her dark and musky cunt.

A few days later I went to a public phone box telephoned her and told her that I didn’t want to see her again. Just like that. A couple of sentences and your life is devastated. Changed.

The thing is though we just weren’t really suited character wise. We would have split up anyway, and better to call it a day before kids arrived. Tough decision.

In our kitchen cupboard, still, and towards the back is the pewter tankard she bought and had engraved for me for my aforesaid twenty-first birthday which elicited a twinge of sadness when I looked at it the other day – she really loved me and would have had so much hope for the future.

Anyway, shortly after I finished with her, she met another chap on the rebound and after a bit she married him. Incidentally, my best friend, Jeremy, was invited to the wedding as he was mates with Claudia's brother. I hasten to add at this point that Claudia was now living on the mainland.

I must confess also that I did begin to miss her, my first, and certainly not last, taste of heartache. It took me about a year to get fully over her.

That said, our lives diverged and though occasionally I would wonder what had happened to her I pretty much moved on though I did sometimes masturbate about the time I whacked her.

The years passed, about twenty-four, and I was now living with Sharon in the bungalow. We had just connected to the Internet, and I had joined Friends Reunited.

One day when I logged on, I found I had received a message from a friend of Claudia's asking me if she could have my mobile just to catch up. I said ‘okay’ because curiosity got the better of me. But I did wonder if it was a mistake. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.

A day later she texted me to tell me that she was still married and had four children. We exchanged details about our lives and then she landed the bombshell: I love my husband, but you broke my heart and I still love you after all this time. I have thought about you every day.

I was amazed. And a little flattered too.

I was polite but told her that though I did love her at the time I now loved Sharon. What I didn't tell her was that the relationship between Sharon and myself was slowly and inevitably crumbling.

She then asked me if it would be possible to meet up somewhen.

I agreed because I was intrigued. And was she still the same sexy and kinky woman after two decades?

But I was in two minds fearing that I could live to regret this.

A few weeks later we arranged to meet in Lymington.

She met me off the boat, with her mother, of all people, who then drove us downtown. I felt uncomfortable, and if Sharon found out then that would be that. I realised in that instant that I neither fancied her nor loved her - I regretted agreeing under her pressure. Still, we wandered around and had a pleasant drink together.

Character wise, she hadn't changed: loud and crass.

I kissed her goodbye at the end and vowed that that would be the last time.

Sharon was none the wiser as to where I had been and in fact it made me feel quite fortunate in having Sharon.

I messaged her later during the week explaining that I couldn't reciprocate her feelings and that perhaps it would be best if she just texted me once a week.

She complied with my wishes.

Time moved on to the inevitable and traumatic split with Sharon.

Then Claudia told me that she and her husband were leaving Lymington for good and moving to Lincolnshire for a fresh start. I thought that she had finally got me out of her system.

Will you meet me in Bournemouth for one last time? Please!


I agreed to rendezvous at the station.

When I arrived, I espied her on the far platform - she hadn't seen me – and I had this urge just to get back on the train. I remember watching her across the tracks put her mobile up to her face and call me. I answered though I didn't really want to.

We wandered around Bournemouth, had something to eat and then took a boat trip.

Whilst on the boat she gave me a necklace.

"I've kept this for 25 years to give to you."

I thanked her but underneath I felt nothing for her.

We eventually parted, and she was tearful.

"I'm happy just to be friends. Please keep in touch."

"I will."

But I didn't really want to.

Curiously Claire texted me whilst I was on the train home. Now she was a woman I coveted.

Time rolls on, and so do the relationships: first Claire then Lulu, but every week Claudia texts me.

Then I get a message: Me and my husband have decided to buy a guest house on the Island then you'll have to see me whether you like it or not!

Fuck! That's stalker talk.

After about a week I convince her that it is a bad idea.

Then she invites me up to stay with her and her husband in the same bed.

We have an open marriage now.

I decline the kind offer. Not really me.

I am then plagued with messages.

Finally, I get Lulu to text her.

She stops.

For a while.

I ignore the texts for several months.

Then I snap.

Fuck it I'm going to wind her up, I'm going to play mind games again.

It was wrong I know.

I make her my phone sex slave and get her to send me pictures of her cunt and tits. I make her phone me and then come so I can hear her. I send her a photo of my cock seconds after I have wanked with spunk running down it.

Then I stop contacting her for several months again.

She persists in messaging me.

I ignore her and know it's hurting her badly - I have become a callous bastard.

Then one day I text her.

I knew you still loved me, she texted smugly.

I didn’t fucking love her.

At this point in time, I am single - between Lulu and Della – but I lead her to believe that I am now seeing someone else and having an affair on the side. It's all a… Complete. Fucking. Fabrication.

I tell her the girl I am going out with is a drug addict and I am besotted with her - she 'advises' me to be… careful with problem women. And totally misses the irony.

One Saturday night Claudia texts me to ask me if I will be seeing Tracey (my made-up girlfriend). I can't resist I and send her a text as if Tracey has picked up my phone and read the message before sending one herself in reply. It goes something along the lines like this: Who the fuck do you think you are trying to get off with my boyfriend. You fucking slag!

I can't stop laughing as I press send.

Three days later I receive a text from Claudia: I don't think your girlfriend is very nice. Is she really right for you? Not my business I suppose.

I tell her that it was unfortunate that she texted whilst I was in the loo.

I also inform her to make her feel really guilty that Tracey took her an overdose shortly after just when she seemed on the point of getting her life together and that her estranged daughter had even recommenced phoning her from jail. I also add that at least she isn't going to be prosecuted for assault after hitting a nurse when they were pumping her stomach out.

I can't stop laughing about all the lies I'm telling - it's really fun.

I then, a couple of days later, tell Claudia that I go round to Tracey's with some flowers unexpectedly and find her in bed with a woman. I then tell Claudia that I can't abide infidelity and am so disgusted with her that I pop round to the other woman I’m having an affair with and immediately shag her for comfort.

Once again, the hypocrisy eludes Claudia.

A couple of days later Claudia accuses me of making up stories: I think you should see someone - you're ill.

Actually, I've had enough of you Claudia. Goodbye.

And that was that. I have never heard from her since. And I got her to hate me which is kind of what I wanted.

Submitted: December 11, 2022

© Copyright 2023 Matt Triewly. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


harriet-jacqui x

Well, you thwacked her four, Matt - elegantly recounted in your own inimitable style!

Mon, December 12th, 2022 12:15am


Thank you!

Mon, December 12th, 2022 2:19am


Interesting read, I really mean that. For some reason your story kind of reminds me of that song " Love Yourself" by that kid Justin Beiber. Claudia ? What are you doing, girl?

Mon, December 12th, 2022 6:19am


Not heard of that track before. She's called Claudia in my tales as she looked a bit like Claudia Cardinale when she was younger. Half Italian and very pretty. Thanks for commenting though!

Mon, December 12th, 2022 2:21am

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