Memoirs of a Slut

Memoirs of a Slut

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

So, here's what happened... (Please see Prologue)

Summary

So, here's what happened...

(Please see Prologue)

Prolog (v.1) - How It All Began

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 26, 2019

Reads: 1816

Comments: 7

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 26, 2019

A A A

A A A

Memoirs of a Slut
 
 
 
Prologue
 
 
 
August:
 
Andy headed towards the pond with a huge net. Dan was waiting by the bank. Those two have been friends forever, though Dan is several years older. 
 
Dan was at our wedding, one of the groomsmen. He was the third guy from the front, the one who winked at me when Andy was lifting my veil for a kiss. He was the guy I talked to at rehearsal dinner while Andy was making his rounds; the guy who cracked me up with his crazy antics as we practiced our ceremonial positions. He was the guy married to Susan, the beautiful blond. They were Ken and Barbie. They never had kids and I never asked why. Now, they are history.
 
When I was pregnant, it was Dan who would come back to the kitchen with me when all the other guys were watching the game. He's the one who put the dishes on the top shelf that I couldn't reach, pulled sheets of cookies and pigs in a blanket from the oven, insisted that I sit down and lift up my legs. He was the one who helped me empty the dishwasher and all the mundane chores of that culinary space, that maternal matrimonial domain. He was the one who leaned against the counter and smiled, patient and attentive.
 
"Don't you want to get back to the game with the boys?" I'd ask. He'd just shake his head affectionately.
 
"Are you all this help for Susan as well?" I'd inquire.
 
 
"Not hardly," he'd respond. I would laugh. We would talk. It was all superficial, at least at first. But then, our conversations grew deeper. He'd tell me things about Susan. I'd tell him things about Andy. We'd share things that only girlfriends should talk about; things like sexual satisfaction, desires and fantasies, experiences with old lovers, kinky inclinations. The guys barely noticed our chatter or absence. Andy, in particular, seemed oblivious.
 
Then the phone call came from Susan, a discussion about her secret. She'd been seeing someone, a man she knew from high school whom she had dated before Dan. He was a boy she had been forbidden to see by her parents; an outcast, a trouble maker. But she saw him anyway, even during the latter days of her engagement. Her parents had no idea and neither did Dan. I was sworn to secrecy; to know nothing, to say nothing.
 
From that day forward, every time I looked at Dan and each time we spoke, I could see it.  Susan scurrying out her bedroom window on the night before her wedding. There were relatives scattered throughout the house, so she could never have otherwise escaped through a door. She met up with Victor just down the block, hopped on his bike and rode bitch back to his place where they fucked for hours.
 
"It was the best sex of my life," Susan said. "What with knowing the wedding was the very next day, it was just so naughty! So daring! And Vic was so fucking hard!" My stomach churned. She trusted me like a sister, or so it seemed.
 
I was compelled to ask Susan why she would even marry Dan, given her desire for Vic. But she insisted she loved Dan; that Vic was not marriage material. Plus, her parents would never have given their blessing to Vic regardless of her feelings. 
 
Dan WAS marriage material; a proper man, a beautiful man, a provider. He was sweet, affectionate, a fashionable arm-piece for social occasions. 
 
Vic was a FUCK. But she couldn't leave him alone. She couldn't go without it. He was wild, passionate, careless, completely inappropriate. He was her polar opposite in every sense, a rebel, a rogue. Susan was the quintessential prom queen, a social darling, the apple of her father's eye.
 
And now, Susan was charging me with the duty of keeping her secrets, the duty of keeping her husband occupied during conjugal visits.
 
You see, Susan preferred that Vic visit her at her home rather than driving over to his place. Apparently, he wasn't much of a housekeeper.
 
Susan liked clean sheets with happy scents as opposed to Victor's stale and smokey surroundings.   Susan liked lots of things...things she said Dan couldn't give her, though I found that hard to imagine.
 
Susan's house was tucked back in the woods, just as Danny insisted when he built it. The geographical location provided isolation. No nosey neighbors to pry on her business, an electronic alert at the gate accompanied by a long serpentine drive. There was nobody to hear her screams and no one to notice Vic's motorcycle coming and going.
 
I'd get a text in the middle of a ballgame, something vague like "busy, busy, busy...are you all having fun?" 
 
I'd respond with something equally benign, all the while knowing it was a signal to keep Dan at my house until Susan gave the green light.
 
Keeping Dan busy would occasionally require innovation. Sometimes, in lieu of what I knew about Susan and my growing affection for Dan, I was much less innovative and more flirtatious.
 
Thus came the conversations, the revelations, the things that neither of us should know about the other. I soon came to realize that I knew things about Dan that I'd never asked about Andy, nor did I really care to know.
 
There were times it seemed Dan suspected that I might be purposefully altering his plans when I asked him for just one more favor before he left for the evening.  I would fretfully fire off a message to Susan so she could clear the premises and prepare for his arrival. 
 
"Could you just help me this one thing, Dan?" I'd ask. I felt almost nauseated. He would look at me curiously, then flash me that boyish smile. Of course, he would help.
 
 
************************************************************
 
 
I'm not sure how he found out, really. I've never asked the specifics. It happened while I was on maternity leave, after the baby. I was at home alone with Samantha when I got the call. Dan was coming over to the house and he didn't sound happy.
 
‘He should be at work,’ I thought. Andy was at work. Dan should be at work. What was going on? When he knocked on the door and stepped into the foyer, I knew by the look on his face.
 
"You knew didn't you?" he asked. 
 
"Knew what?" I responded, trying to look innocent. That just made him madder. 
 
"Knew about Susan and that guy!"
 
I was feeling dizzy when he grabbed my shoulders with his big strong hands, and it wasn't because of affection or desire. For the first time ever, I was legitimately afraid. I saw an anger I had never seen before in Danny.
 
It was incredibly frightening. He lit into me like a blow torch, the heat of his accusations scorching my face! I truly thought he would hit me, but he didn't. He just said what he had to say, the last of which being that he never wanted to see or hear from me again. Then he slammed the door in my face and walked away. 
 
I cried. I deserved everything he said. I deserved to be smacked. And true to his word, I didn't hear from him for over a month.
 
Andy told me about the pending divorce, the grisly details as he had understood them. How Dan had come home unexpectedly to find Susan getting banged by some long-haired biker that worked in a local body shop.  The guy had never even graduated from high school and probably was a drug addict. I acted totally bewildered. Susan didn't contact me.
 
 
 
In February, close to Valentine's Day, Dan showed up at the front door unannounced. I was alone with Sam, my baby daughter, who was sleeping upstairs. Dan's demeanor was solemn as he entered the foyer and closed the door behind him. 
 
"Meg, I want to apologize," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you and I didn't mean the things I told you, the names I called you. I was totally out of line."
 
I stood there in disbelief, silently absorbing the moment before I teared up and reached out to hug him. 
 
"I'm the one who's sorry, Dan. You've got nothing to be sorry about. I deserved everything you said. I totally screwed up. I should have told you. I shouldn't have agreed to keep silent, to hide the truth."
 
I was careful not to admit to the text messages and warnings to Susan, as I wasn't sure if Dan knew just how active my role had been. We walked into the kitchen, a place so familiar to us both. We had spent so much time there on those pregnant fall and winter nights. 
 
We sat and we talked, just like old times. I listened for Sam on the monitor. She barely stirred. We hashed through the events, the plans, the impending divorce, the feelings of betrayal. We walked back to the foyer to say our goodbyes. 
 
"Dan, I'm so glad you came back to me," I admitted. "I've been so devastated".
 
"I had to see you, Meg.  I couldn't go on without seeing your face."
 
Dan leaned down to kiss me.  It was supposed to be a peck.  It wasn't.
 
By the time we disengaged, my panties were soaked.


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