The Confession

The Confession

By

Jeanette Muscella

Copyright © 2015
Jeanette
Muscella

ISBN:
978-1-4951-7580-0

This book is the copyrighted property
of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed
for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from
the author. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it,
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reading material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

Chapter 1

1986

***John***

“I can’t believe she
fucking married him.” I am so angry I want to hurt someone. How
could she do this to me? How could she
choose
him over
me?

“Get over it dude.
There
are
plenty of other women out there for you to feed
on. Find someone else to fuck.”

I want to ram my fist down
his fucking throat. He doesn’t understand how I feel. “I don’t want
someone else. I want her, and now that she
has a husband
, she
wants us to be friends. She always invites me over for dinner. I
hate seeing them together. She hangs all over him. It makes me want
to puke!”

“Why are you so hung up on this girl?”
Jake asked me for the thousandth time.

“I still love her Jake. I
don’t know what to do. I know she doesn’t
love
me, but I can’t
get her out of my mind. I know I fucked up with the drugs. That’s
why she left me. I’ve tried dating other women, but I haven’t been
with anyone in over a year.”

“Wow, you seriously need to get laid!
What can I do to help you?”

What can he do to help me?
I think about this for several minutes. I know what I want to do.
Do I have the balls to do it? Hell yes, I can do it. I’m pissed off
and I want revenge. I have to plan this correctly. “I need
something to make her
amenable
if you get my
meaning.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I need something that will
fuck up her memory. I have a score to
settle,
and then I’ll walk
away.”

“Ok,
dude. I have to call my supplier.
Do you really want to go down this road? You could mess up her mind
if you give her too much.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.
I told her I was in love with
her,
and she laughed in my
face. She said, “I never
told you I loved
you. We have been
friends for a long time. I don’t think of you that way.”

“I have to go over to their
apartment
to
a birthday party tonight. My balls are aching. I
just want a piece of her pussy, and I want her agreeable when I
fuck her. Will this drug wipe her memory?”

“A friend of mine slipped it into some
girl’s drink at a club. She was out of it, and to this day, she has
no memory of what happened to her that night.”

I can feel the hairs on the back of my
neck stand on end, but I have to push down the guilt. I’m too angry
to give a shit about remorse. “Perfect. I need one night with her
before I walk away. I don’t want her remembering
anything.”

I hang outside the bar for a few
minutes while my friend Jake calls his supplier. Several minutes
later, he exits the bar. “Hey buddy; can you get what I
need?”

“Yeah, I’ll have it for you in an hour.
Where do you want to meet?”

“Meet me at the park on Tasker
Street.”

***Her***

I planned a special dinner for my
husband’s twenty-eighth birthday. I’m not a great cook, and it took
me all day to prepare the meal. He calls me at four o’clock to tell
me he can’t make dinner. I’m upset and frustrated.

“It’s your birthday. Why do you have to
work, tonight of all nights? I’m sick and tired of being alone. I
never see you, and the one night I make a special dinner, you are
on call? I hate this, and I hate you. Why did I marry you?” I knew
I upset him and he let me know it.

“Why did you marry me? What
are you saying? Do you want a divorce? I am working my ass off to
make a better life for us. I don’t need this bullshit. I
work
sixty
fucking hours a week and all you do is whine and
complain about how lonely you are!
Why are you breaking my balls about working
late?
”

He’s so angry. I have to calm down. I
don’t want to fight with him. I can hear the stress in his voice.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I am in such a foul mood. I miss you.
I do understand.”

“I’m sorry I snapped
at
you,
honey.
I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. I just
want to come home and fall into bed.”

“Please,
try to take a nap. I worry
about you.”

“I’ll try, but I doubt I
will get more than a few hours.
Please
be
patient
honey. I
love you.”

“I love you too.”

When I hang up the phone, I look around
our little apartment. I have spent so much time alone lately and I
feel neglected. I call John, knowing he’ll have some dickhead
response. I worry about him. His substance abuse is getting worse.
I’m afraid to say anything to him. It’s really none of my
business.

“Can you believe he has to work
tonight? I made a special dinner, bought a nice bottle of wine, and
he waits until the last minute to call me. His parents will be here
in a few minutes expecting to see him. What am I going to tell
them?”

“Well, you have two
options. One: Cancel the dinner. That will get you a lecture, as I
am sure they will bend you ear for a good hour. Two: Suffer
through
dinner
and save the wine for when everyone leaves. I will
stay and help you polish off the bottle. We can watch a movie, and
I’ll make popcorn. You know, sometimes he gets on my last nerve.
You’d think he could walk on water.”

“Do I hear a
hint
of envy in your voice John?”

Not envy baby doll, anger.
You
had been
my girlfriend before he took you from me. “Hell
no, I’m not jealous of him. I feel sorry for him. He tries so hard
to please everyone.
Evidently
, he dropped the ball with you.
Why did you marry him? Do you love him? Tell me the
truth.”

Why does he do this to me?
He needs to get over the fact that I married someone else. I never
loved him, and he is really starting to piss me off! “Why would you
ask me that question? I love my husband, and I don’t appreciate the
third degree. Are you still angry with me for ending our
relationship? I thought you understood I considered you a good
friend. I hear the
anger
in your voice.”

There is no way I am
admitting I still love you.
“No,
I’m not angry. We have
been friends for a long time. Let’s get through dinner, and then
we’ll have our own private party.”

“Ok. I like the sound of that. Dinner
is at seven. Do not be late. I want them out of here by
ten.”

***John***

I’m nervous and pace the sidewalk
outside her apartment. My moral compass has doomed me to the fiery
pits of hell and I don’t care. My hand fingers the bag of drugs in
my pocket. I already snorted a few lines of cocaine, which took the
edge off my nerves. I’m starting to have second thoughts about
doing this to her. As I am walking away from her apartment, I see
my parents. It’s too late to back out now.

I sit through probably the worse meal
I’ve had in a long time. The chicken is dry, and the vegetables
overcooked. She really does suck at cooking, and her “pretend to be
a good little housewife” act is getting old. I escape to the
bathroom to snort another line. When I return to the kitchen, my
mother is consoling her.

“It’s ok honey. It
takes
time
to learn how to cook. You’ve only been married for
six months. Give it time. You’ll learn.”

“I don’t understand what happened. I
followed the recipe. How hard can it be to cook a stupid
chicken?”

My mother laughs and the
sound of her voice grates on my nerves. I watch my
mom
interact with her, and I get pissed off. She’s so patient and
solicitous. Why can’t she be that way with me? Why does every
conversation end in an argument? I can feel my father’s eyes on me.
Does he know I’m high? Probably, and I don’t give a
fuck.

Thank all that is holy when my father
rises from the sofa and announces he’s tired. My parents finally
leave and it’s just the two of us. Game on! I walk over and turn on
the television. I scan the measly assortment of movies available
and pick one that I like. I pop it in the VCR and sit on the sofa.
She walks into the room with two glasses of red wine, my favorite.
It will mix well with the cocaine.

“How many times do you want to watch
this movie?” She asks me when she sits next to me. I resist the
urge to reach out and touch her. My cock is already twitching in
anticipation.

“Hey, this is a classic,
and I refuse to watch a chick flick. Suck it up and be quiet.” As
the night progresses, I switch from wine to beer. The buzz I had
earlier is fading. I need another fix. I grab her empty glass and
walk back to the kitchen to refill her
drink
. I make sure I
fill it to the brim. I take the bag from my pocket and drop two
pills into her
wine
. I snort another line of coke while
I wait for the pills to dissolve. She made me do this, I think to
myself as I feel the coke hit my system. I’m angry and this will
end tonight. I’ll walk away from her after I get what I want. She
will give it to me, even if I have to force it from her. I walk
back to the living room and give her the wine.

“This will be my last glass of wine
John. I’m feeling buzzed and I don’t want to be drunk when he gets
home. You’ll have to leave soon. I’m getting tired.”

“Sure, I’ll leave when the movie is
over. Drink your wine, and I’ll be out of here by
midnight.”

I try not to be obvious as I watch her
drink the wine. How long will it take before the drug starts
working? I have no idea, and I’m trying not to freak out. It takes
several minutes and finally she drops her head onto the back of the
sofa. “I feel dizzy,” she says to me. “I don’t know what wrong with
me. I feel…” I hear her words slurring. Her eyes are glassy. I
reach out to touch her thigh. God, her skin feels so soft. It
surprised me when she grabs my hand and thrusts it between her
legs.

“Oh, I want you to touch
me.”

Is she talking about me? I
can’t be sure. I kneel in front of her and spread her legs. I push
her dress up and over her thighs. I want to see what she’s wearing
under her dress. Damn, she’s wearing pink lace panties. I grab her
legs and pull her to the edge of the cushion. As my thumbs trace
along the band of her panties, I pull them down and off her body. I
spread her legs and bury my face in her pussy. Her scent is fresh
and feminine. Her skin is soft and her taste sweet. She opens
her
eyes
and blinks several
times
as she tries to focus on
the face that is now between her thighs.

She reaches out and runs
her fingers through my hair. Her nails scratch my scalp and my cock
twitches. “That’s right baby, I am going to fuck you all night
long. Keep your legs spread for
me,
baby. Let me taste
you.”

I feel her trying to sit up. She is
staring at me. She knows it’s not him with his face in her pussy.
She pulls my hair in an attempt to push me away from her. Her words
are slurred. She’s telling me no, she doesn’t want me to touch her.
After a weak attempt to get me off her, she closes her eyes and I
feel her body relax.

“It’s too
late
bitch. You deserve what I’m going to give you.” I grab the top
of her dress and rip it off her body. I’m staring down at
alabaster
skin, and perfect breasts. I’m beyond the point of no return.
I reach down to free my cock, lift her from the sofa, and carry her
to the bedroom. I don’t want to fuck her in their bed, but the urge
to sink balls deep is too strong. I pulled her to the edge of the
bed, grab a
condom
and take what I want, rough and
fast.