My phone beeped during a meeting with a client. I didn’t check it, but my gut told me that it wasn’t anything good.
After the meeting, I closed my eyes and lowered my chin after reading it. Matt had called it quits on our relationship. I don’t know why that surprised me. After all, he had cheated on me, but I was tired of starting over again, so I hoped that he would change. At least he had the decency to tell me that he was leaving, even if it was via text. The two guys before him didn’t say anything before they left.
The guy before Matt moved in with me after he lost his job. He used the subsequent few months to lie on my couch and watch TV, not bothering to look for a job. I can’t say that I blame him. I was stupid enough to provide everything for him, and I bought him a car when he said he needed it for job interviews. He used it to visit his ex-girlfriend and have sex with her.
I didn’t bother repossessing the car, despite it being in my name. I always let bygones be bygones. I’d never thought about getting back at the men who broke my heart. Maybe that was my problem and the reason my heart always got trampled on.
Mom had said that I was destined to be alone. Her dismal track record with men made her believe that, and she felt that I’d follow the same path. As much as it pained me to admit it, so far, she had been right. But I was determined to prove her wrong.
The new guy in my life was Byron. I met him at a race track two weeks after Matt broke up with me. My best friend said I shouldn’t rush my feelings for him, but I was determined to fill an empty hole.
On our first date, he took me to a car convention. I thought that was a bit strange, but I kept smiling as he spoke mostly about cars and asked only a few questions about me. At the end of the date, he suggested we go to his place. I declined because I didn’t want to rush.
When he called me two weeks later, I was relieved because it made me believe he was still interested in me. I silenced the little voice in my head that told me he should’ve called sooner if he were interested in me, not just a booty call. When Byron suggested we go to a drag race, I countered with a visit to a park.
It was spring, so flowers had blossomed, and trees had burst out of their buds. I loved that time of the year, and seeing couples cosy up to each other on benches had always warmed my heart. I was a hopeless romantic and wished to meet a similar man. Byron was a little rough around the edges, but I hoped that he would change.
On the bench, he ran his hand up my leg and looked at me with a wanting smile.
“Are you feeling frisky like I am?” he asked.
I smiled and looked down. Those weren’t exactly the words I hoped to hear. “I’m feeling comfortable. It’s nice to be here with you.”
“You know where we could be more comfortable?” he asked and flashed his eyebrows as he sneered.
“Let’s take it one step at a time.”
His sneer faded, and he pulled back slightly. I saw that he was disappointed. He even turned his body away from me slightly and became less engaging. For the rest of the date, I spoke most of the time, and Byron’s answers were brief.
At the end, all I got was a handshake. It would’ve been nice if he had walked me to my car.
I hadn’t heard from him in a week. I got the feeling that he wasn’t going to call, so I picked up the phone. That wasn’t the first time I had called a guy. Desperation had made me do worse things.
“Hey. How’ve you been?” I asked.
“Been busy.”
“With?”
“I’m looking to buy a classic car.”
“Oh, wow. That sounds interesting. Maybe I could tag along the next time you go.” I cringed, hoping that it didn’t sound too desperate.
He snorted a laugh. “You wanna come with me to check out cars?”
“Yeah. I bought my ex-boyfriend a car, so I know a thing or two about them.”
“You bought your ex-boyfriend a car?”
“Yeah. I wanted to help out.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
“So, what do you say about our shopping expedition? We on?”
“Sure.”
Byron picked me up in his Dodge Demon. Something about the car’s roaring engine and muscular design got me wet. When he stepped on the gas, I felt flustered. The adrenalin got me more excited.
At the dealership, Byron showed me the Shelby Cobra that he wanted to buy. It needed restoration, and he planned to sell his Dodge to fund the purchase.
Afterwards, we went to a restaurant. As Byron spoke about cars, his passion for them exuded, turning me on.
When he dropped me off at my place, I asked, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” I wanted to take things slow, but I felt that I would scare him off if I didn’t give him what he wanted.
He smiled, then switched off the car.
In my lounge, he ran his hand up my leg and nibbled on my neck. I ran my fingers through the back of his hair and raised my chin. His hand slid in between my legs and over my pussy. As he rubbed it, he bit my bottom lip and stretched it. I looked at him with droopy eyelids.
Byron ripped my shirt apart and ravaged my chest. I loved every second of it. He was aggressive and sensual at the same time, making me wetter. My dress raised up my leg as Byron slid his hands over my thighs.
He kneeled in front of the couch, grabbed my ankles and then opened my legs. I closed my eyes as he licked my pussy. He did a waggling technique on my clitoris that drove me insane.
Byron lay next to me on the couch, my back facing him. He put his arm under me and his hand on my stomach as he raised my leg with his other hand. My eyes closed as he stuck his dick into my pussy.
I had never tried spooning during sex, but I loved it because of Byron’s vigour. I shot out several loud screams as he really put his back into it. His big dick also added to the pleasure.
Byron’s cheek rubbed mine as he carried on the aggressive penetration. My right leg was straight up as he grabbed my tit and squeezed it.
After several minutes, Byron stopped and then stood up. He tapped my leg, making me believe that he wanted me on my hands and knees. I obliged.
My knees were on the edge of the couch as Byron stuffed his big dick inside me. He grabbed my ponytail and pulled it, making me clench my teeth and raise my chin as he pounded me from behind. As he let go of my hair, I bowed my head and panted while moaning. He really knew what he was doing.
He stuck his dick into my ass, making me curl my lips and moan. Byron grabbed my shoulders and started thrusting. I squeezed my eyes closed and screamed. Byron carried on for several minutes before pulling his dick out and tapping my ass.
I quickly turned around and kneeled in front of him on the floor. I winced as his load splattered on my face, and I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. He glided his tip on my tongue to wipe off the remnants.
I thought that Byron would spend the night, especially because I had let him cum on my face, but he got dressed and left.
He called me a week later and told me that he had sold his Dodge and bought the Shelby. I was happy for him, and I got even more excited when he asked to take me out to dinner. We had a great time, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
For the next few weeks, he took me out often, and we kept having sex. I knew that we were getting closer when he slept over a few times.
On one Sunday, Byron asked, “You do feel the same way about me the way I do about you, don’t you? I mean, we are an item, aren’t we?”
I smiled, feeling relieved that he had strong feelings for me. “Absolutely. I’m so glad you said that.”
“Good. I’m glad you like me. I was thinking that since we’re getting close, we should be partners. You know, like share everything, right?”
“I’d love that,” I said, thinking that Byron wanted to move in with me.
“I bought the Shelby, and I have to restore it to peak condition so that the car is perfect. It’s gonna cost $10,000. Would you be able to chip in a couple of thousand?”
I lowered my gaze to the floor and thought about it. I wasn’t keen to give him money early into the relationship, but I figured that he would love me for it, so I agreed. He smiled, hugged me and kissed the top of my head.
After the restoration, Byron washed the car every Sunday. He was strict about me putting my feet on the floor mats, and he didn’t allow me to test drive it. He spent less time with me and more time with the car and going out. On several occasions, I had worried about him and called to make sure he was okay, but he hadn’t answered. His excuse was that he hadn’t heard the phone.
The gap between us widened during the next two weeks. I craved his company, but he always had a reason for not coming over. I eventually persuaded him to visit me.
We spent about an hour together before Byron wanted to polish his car because the classic car show was the coming weekend. Byron was going to put the Shelby on display, hoping to catch the eye of a collector who would pay a hefty sum. He said that certain models at previous shows fetched for several hundred thousand dollars and some for over a million.
While he was polishing his car, his phone beeped. My gut warned me that it had something to do with me. I didn’t know how, but I was convinced that I had to read the message. I was never the one to invade somebody’s privacy, but I couldn’t tame my feelings.
My eyes closed, and my heart sank as I read the message. It was from a woman he was sleeping with. She had sent a picture of herself in lingerie and said she couldn’t wait for him to come over tonight. When I read the previous messages, they confirmed the cheating.
I put his phone on the table and sat on the couch, feeling devastated. I dunked my face into my palms. Looks like mom is right. I’m going to be alone forever. Another man had trampled my heart. I felt used again. I realised that Byron had gotten close to me so that I would help him fund the restoration.
My phone rang. After I spoke to the city council, I went to the garage and told Byron that he should park his car on the curb because I wanted to clean the garage and the driveway.
“Okay. Just make sure that you don’t get a single drop of water on my precious Shelby,” he said and smiled.
I flashed a smile that faded quickly.
Byron was inside while I was cleaning the driveway, probably messaging his floozy. When I saw the roadwork crew pull up with their massive machinery, I went inside and switched the music on so that we wouldn’t hear the noise.
Byron was messaging while I prepared lunch. I peeked out of the kitchen window and saw the crew drilling a jackhammer into the road and mixing concrete, then laying it.
After lunch, Byron said that he had to go. I looked at him for a second from the corner of my eye and thought that he was in a rush to get to his skank.
As he opened the door, he shrieked, “No!,” then ran to his car. “What are you doing?” he asked the workers, sounding like he was on the verge of spilling tears.
I stood in the driveway, arms folded and smirking.
Byron’s doors and fender were scratched from the asphalt that flew into them as a result of the roadwork. Since he had an open-top roof, the asphalt had flown onto the interior and damaged it when they drilled. Most of the car was covered in dust. His flushed face and tears that had filled his eyes were priceless. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
“What the hell’s wrong with you guys?” Byron asked the workers, seeing that they had worked close to his car.
“Sir, we informed all the residents that they should park their cars inside because of the roadworks,” said one of the workers.
He grimaced. “What? Nobody told me.” Byron turned around and looked at me. “Did you know about this?”
I kept smirking.
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