The Tales From The Tavern: Revenge, Bitch - Sex Stories

The Tales From The Tavern: Revenge, Bitch

... We looked at each other. Again, an uneasy silence set in. Before Emanuelle leaned in to hug me, I nervously broke the silence: “It was nice catching up with you. Real nice. But I should be going home now.” “Why?” she asked, “Don't you want to come in?” “No,” I replied, “I'm tired, Em.” “You can spend the night here, if you like.” She tilted her head, and chuckled nervously, what caused a crooked smile to flash across her lips. “Just for the old times' sake, you know.” I didn't hesitate, for I had already made up my mind earlier that night: “No, I can't. I have a girlfriend, and you know that.” I admit that it was a bluff. A bad one even. But I just wanted to make it out of this situation as quickly as possible. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you're such a bad liar.” Shit! She didn't hook. So another plan needed it was. “And you... have a boy... friend,” I stammered trying to sound as accusing as possible, but failing rather miserably at it. Turned out the rumors about her fidelity were true as she replied: “Yes and?” Oh boy, did she make me angry. I really had to keep it together not to wake up the whole neighborhood: “And what?! That's exactly why our relationship broke. And after what you did to me you seriously ask me to spend the night with you while knowing you've already got someone screwing you? Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me?” She wanted to slap me, but her hands were too shaky. Adrenaline? The alcohol the smell of her breath testified to? “Come on, Dan, that's ...

... three years ago! How can you just be so resentful ?” “You broke my heart, Emanuelle! You should have know better, you really have.” She tried to shove me away. “Oh yeah? Should I?” I didn't directly react to her physical aggression. “Yes you should! And now just go to bed, and leave me alone.” I pointed to her bedroom window to emphasize my point, before adding: “And if you so desperately do need a fuck, then call your boyfriend!” She wasn't used to someone resisting her. She never had been. The mixture of rage and desperation on her face gave away her insecure handling of the situation. Her facial expression got all distorted as she fought the urge to cry. “Fuck! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get over you? I fucking knew I had made a horrible mistake! But by the time I would have come crawling back, you were already screwing that Laura bitch! You're just thinking of you, aren't you? And me?! I fucking loved you! I missed you! Of course there's Jack! But he's just a substitute, and a bad one on top of that! He could never give me what you gave me: true love! Someone I wanted to spend my life with! He's just a toy.” I didn't know how to react. All I wanted was to end this situation, whatever the cost. Emanuelle was not exactly dead to me, but not really far from it either. It was up to me: give it another shot, and end things smoothly with her; maybe even be friends again, who knows? She was a nice girl after all. Or ending it there and then. Either way, there was ...