The Married Rotten Scoundrel
Some times little girls come across big bad men. These little girls may wrap up their naïve souls away for safekeeping. But these big bad men are relentless and will try to bust a way in. This peen is definitely not someone I considered knocking boots with. Oh no, not at all. Even though he had a strategy in mind for knocking my boots clear off.
I like to consider myself a savvy business woman, eager to network with appropriate individuals I come across. I had switched jobs, but kept running into a gentleman my previous employer had done business with. It was one of those scenarios where I knew who he was, but he had no clue who I was. One night, I saw him out and I introduced myself and asked what he’d been up to. We hit it off in a completely professional, platonic way. I was actually out with a guy I was dating. The business guy and I made small talk, traded business cards and agreed to meet up for coffee to talk shop.
Fast forward a month and we established a comfortable rapport and were pursuing business ventures together. Now I must mention, this chap is probably 10-15 years older than me, married and not a bang-able specimen in my eyes. It honestly never crossed my mind to think of him as a sexual being.
One night I was coming home from dinner and I receive a text from him telling me he was in my neck of the woods. I think nothing of it and join him for a harmless drink while he ate a pizza, to recap some business items. Looking back now, I am seeing the flashing lights screaming, “Don’t go you naïve little girl! It’s a Friday night!” Completely blind and dumb as hell, I join this scoundrel of a man at a local joint.
The night comes to an end and he walks me home to make sure I wasn‘t abducted by some strange man in the dark. Still not thinking anything of it, we make our way down the street to my place. The entire time I’m rattling on about different ideas for the business venture we’re working on together.
We get to my door and I offer him, “good night” and start to head inside. As I’m scampering up the steps, I hear him say, “Is that all?” My first reaction was, where are my manners? I ask him, “Did you want a bottle of water for the road or need to use the restroom?” Then he shot me a creepy little smile and inferred he wanted to come inside and upstairs. My heart sank all the way down to my toes. My entire demeanor changed as I stiffened, “Excuse me, aren’t you a married man?” He inched towards me and argued, “Does that really matter?” I scoffed, “It most certainly does! I believe in the sanctity of marriage! Go home to your wife!” I spun around as fast as I could, ran inside and slammed the door.
I felt violated, disappointed and heartbroken for his wife. How could I have not seen the signs? I only saw this guy as a mentor. Someone who could really help me have my big break. The only thing he wanting was to break was his back from too much “hot, young girl sex.”
Literally 58 seconds after entering the front door, I get a string of desperate texts. He kept rattling off that he “knew I wanted this” and “we should be naked by now.” First of all, you are a married, rotten dick. Second of all, don’t be sexting me that shit. I am not some common street whore who will turn tricks. Especially with your married, semi-old ass.
These texts continued to roll in deep into the night. I finally turned my phone off and threw it across the room. I was feeling so disturbed and paranoid, I was afraid his gross face would pop out of the phone! I of course was alone in my home and scared he’d bust his way through a window and try to sex me in the night.
As the initial shock and fury escaped my body, I tried to put him out of my mind. Soon enough, his texts diminished and it’s almost as if his campaign for our sexcapade didn’t happen. I’m sure he was trying to carry on his attempt at infidelity, ready to stick it to some other 20-something girl.
Then about a month later, he started an alternate form of communication since the phone only got him silence. He started emailing me, masking the conversations with business. As my inbox continued to be flooded with his unwanted emails, I finally replied. Here’s the email correspondence:
ME: “After your inappropriate and unsettling solicitation for sex, a business relationship with you makes me uncomfortable.”
HIS JACKASS RESPONSE: That’s precious…lol. Definitely don’t want you uncomfortable. Have a great one.
—
That got my blood boiling. That’s not precious. You’re a bona fide prick who dashes around town in an overly expensive car with frosted blonde tips. Your wife is probably home masturbating because you’re out, gallivanting around town like an idiot, trying to screw innocent young girls. Stay home, get your Johnson stroked by your own wife and respect the vows you pledged to her.