82: Yvette

He's been coming here almost every night.

I would see his car parked in front of my apartment building and when I reach my place at the third floor, he's already there next to the door, waiting for me.

We don't talk much these days, it's purely business by going straight to fucking. Unless there are times when I couldn't take how disgusting I felt with the sweat from cleaning houses and offices that I'd shower first.

I know, why should I bother. I was gonna get 'dirty' anyway. Believe me, I'm disappointed with myself too. For wanting to get the best experience when we do it. As if I wanted to do it, not being forced to do it.

Screwing my toxic ex-husband? Pathethic.

Screwing somebody's fiancee? Whore.

Using his penis for MY orgasms? Double whore.

Humping myself shamelessly on him until he cums? I certainly can't be helped anymore. That's it, I'm a lost cause.

But when I see my calendar, counting days till the day we will finally talk about me seeing the twins, it's all worth it