Confessions: I Didn’t Get Mad. I Got Even.

Sometimes kharma comes quickly. Sometimes it takes all night.

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I know baby. It’s our anniversary. You had plans. I found the dinner reservations in your email. I’m sorry I snooped, I can’t help it. After I found out what happened I couldn’t stop.

I’d love to be there with you tonight, but I’ve always lived my life by one maxim. Don’t get mad. Get even.

You really only have yourself to blame for this. And your brother I guess. If he wasn’t so busy hitting on my sister he would have never sent her that video of you at your bachelor party.

I’m sure he was too drunk to even realize what he’d done. I’m betting he never told you. Did he?

You didn’t even know there was a video did you? The one of you in the VIP room with that blonde stripper. I guess your attention was elsewhere. The guys loved every moment of you railing that excitable slut.

I wasn’t nearly as impressed. I was pretty close to calling off the wedding. Most women don’t have to watch their husband try his best to knock up a desperate college student. Then I realized that if I called off the wedding, I’d get the blame. Everyone would think I got cold feet.

So we told the girls at the hen’s night that I was tired and needed to get to bed early. They were dissapointed, but they understood. Then my sister and I slipped out of the party but we never went home.

No, Carly talked our way into the dressing room at the male strip club. I was still mad when she told the first guy to get out his big swinging dick. They were confused at first but Carly told them everything.

So instead of simmering with rage in my hotel room, hon, I let a room full of male strippers fuck it out of me. At first I just got on my knees. Making sure they were nice and hard when they went out on stage.

But I’ve never seen such massive dicks, baby. Some of them were nine or ten inches long. Then one of them got a little handsy. He wanted me to take my tits out. It only seemed like a fair trade. They were naked after all.

Things moved pretty quickly after that, dear. One of those muscled hunks just bent me over a table and stuck his big dick in me. He didn’t even ask, he was just so hot I couldn’t resist.

I thought of my hubby-to-be getting ridden by a stripper. You were having a great time, so I had one too. I let him have his way with me until I came for him.

Then it was on. He used me until he seeded your fiance’s willing sex. When I told them what you’d done, they really stepped up their game, baby. I never realized how many guys have the fantasy of fucking a woman on her wedding day.

I stopped counting at eight, but I’m sure there were more. Remember how I kept commenting on how sore my jaw was during our wedding? I lied. I knew exactly why it was sore. I’d spent all night giving strippers head before our big day.

So you see honey, you’ve spent the last year thinking you were the big dick on campus when really you were my cuck since the day we said I do.

I know you won’t believe me, so rather then come to the restaurant. I thought I’d prove it to you. Head to the Hen House and ask them if Brad, Michael or Tyrelle are working.

They’ll tell you they are, but they’re busy getting ready out back.

We’ll both know what that means.

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