Divorced and Falling for the Tattoo Master

~ SIENNA ~

A married woman addicted to her sèx toy? Yeah, that's me. If the poor thing could grow wings, it would have flown far away from me and never come back. I remember thinking it was overpriced when I bought it on a vacation with Harry in Paris but now? Now, I have gotten my money's worth and more.

With a sigh, I picked up the rose vibrator and increased the vibration level to the highest. Lately, my usual level was not doing it for me anymore. I inserted the díldo part of the toy into my pússy and brought the rose sucker to my swollen clít. My legs were spread as wide as the bathtub would allow, the scent of my strawberry body wash wafting around the large bathroom.

Soon, my moans were wafting around too. In the beginning, I used to cry out Harry's name but now it's just ooooohs and aaaaahs. No way I'm moaning the name of a husband who hasn't touched me in months.

I tried not to think of Harry's shortcomings and concentrate on the waves of pleasure running through my body. My pupils were rolled back and my legs were shaking just as fast, if not faster than the vibrator itself.

Just when I was about to reach an órgasm, the vibration slowed and the buzzing quieted. Soon, I was left with only the sound of my ragged breaths. Apparently, my bad habit of forgetting to charge my devices had caught up with me - in the worst way possible.

With all the strength in my séx deprived body, I hurled the dead vibrator at the wall on the far end of the bathroom. It fell to the ground with a clatter but didn't disintegrate. Value for my money truly.

The door to the bedroom opening startled me. I didn't hear Harry's car pull into the garage. Quickly, I rinsed the remaining lather off my body and carefully stepped out of the bathtub.

When I entered the bedroom, Harry was pulling his socks off and throwing them into - no, beside - the laundry basket. His blue suit looked rumpled but I guess that was expected since he slept over at the office last night. Recently, he had been working extra hours to meet ridiculous deadlines as his company hit a rough patch.

"Hey babe. Finally home," I greeted as I waltzed to meet him; títs bouncing, ass jiggling, smelling of strawberry and my own arousal musk. Any other man would have immediately had me pressed against the wall and fúcked like I keyed his favourite car.

But my husband of five years looked at me like he was watching paint dry. "Hi Sienna. Towels dirty?"

"What?" I barely heard him over the sound of my thumping heart. What I was about to do was making me nervous.

"Are the towels dirty? I thought you would have worn a towel or something."

Damn! This was Harry's reaction to my naked body? I swallowed a lump in my throat and continued my plan. Nothing like a hórny woman who is tired of séx toys and needs the real thing.

"The towels are clean all right. I just wanted to show you this..." I slipped two fingers between the folds of my pússy, looking up at him from the brink of my lashes. A small whimper escaped my mouth.

"Sienna..."

Was his voice heavy with lust or was it all in my head?

"Yes, babe. Come help your wifey out. My short fingers can't reach where I need them to," I teased as my free hand moved to his belt buckle.

"I have something to show you too," he said.

"Right after you come all over my face, babe." I had to entice him by promising his own pleasure first.

I finally yanked the stubborn belt off and slipped my hand under his briefs, finding and holding his díck. It was already semi hard and continued to harden under my touch - a good sign. But an even better sign? Harry didn't stop me. Oh my God, it's Christmas in April! I was finally going to get a good pounding and the thought of it was driving me crazy.

I brought the fingers that were in my folds to Harry's lips. "Wanna taste?"

Just then, his phone rang and I immediately knew I would hate the song Viva la Vida by Coldplay for the rest of my life. Of all the times in the world, why did the caller choose to call now?

Harry stilled and held my hand that was stroking his díck.

"Surely you're not going to take that." I eyed him.

"Of course, I am. My company is at the brink of collapse. It could be any of the people I've been praying to get a call back from for weeks."

I let go of him and crossed my hands over my bréasts. Steam must have been spouting from my ears.

Harry picked up his phone. "Hello?"

He listened.

"What?! Which hospital? I'll be there in a few minutes." He was already fixing his briefs and picking up his belt when the call ended.

Shít!

"What's the problem?" I asked.

"I have an emergency."

"No kidding." I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they would fall off. "I am asking what the emergency is."

"Not your business."

"Not my business?! Really, Harry? You haven't touched me in months. Months! And then this one time we're getting into it, you get a call that has you rushing off and you won't even tell me what the problem is?"

"Fine. Cassy got into a car accident and is in the hospital."

"Cassy? Your site manager that looks at you like you're a séx idol? She was probably thinking of rawdogging you instead of watching the road-"

"Don't speak about her like that," Harry interjected.

"Oh, really? Do you ever say this to anyone about me? When your mother asked me if I have 'scrambled eggs' because we don't have a baby yet, did you ask her not to speak about me like that? Harry, did you?!"

The memory of that day multiplied my rage. My hands moved to his collar, shaking him vigorously. "What haven't I done to be the perfect wife for you? I manage the home well, I give you my body, I support your company with my money and ideas... What more do you want from me, Harry?"

"You want to know what I want?" His voice could freeze the Arctic. "I want a divorce."

I waited for Harry to laugh. He was joking - he had to be. I didn't get estranged from my parents and give up my promising career to be his housewife only for him to come home on a random Tuesday morning and ask for a divorce.

But his face stayed serious.

"Why?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean why? You might not be a lot but you're a Harvard cúm laude engineering graduate. Surely, you can tell when something isn't working. And this marriage? It hasn't been for a while now."

My voice quavered. "I thought... you said it was work. You said you were losing contracts. I thought that was what the distance was about. And that once things got better for the company, we would be back to normal. And I was waiting-"

"Waiting?" he interrupted with a snarky laugh. "No, Sienna. It looks like you went and got yourself busy as well."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're cheating on me."

I laughed bitterly. "If you want to end our marriage, at least don't be a coward about it. Own your decision and don't accuse me falsely."

"I knew you would lie," he said, reaching into his briefcase and retrieving a set of papers. "Well, Miss Sienna Monroe, how do you explain this?"

I was still recovering from the shock of being addressed with my maiden name by my own husband when the papers came flying down. He didn't even have the decency to hand them to me.

"What are these?" I asked as I bent to pick one. Harry didn't answer - he didn't need to. The answer was staring at me in the form of a picture.

A sinfully erotic picture of a man and a woman in a bedroom. He sat on a chair while she straddled his laps. The man's identity was conveniently hidden as he had his back to the camera. I could only see his long dark hair. But the woman's face was clearly visible. And even though it was a static picture, anyone with eyes would tell that at that moment, she was letting out a loud moan.

It was the face of a woman at the apex of séxual pleasure and I would recognize that face anywhere because it was mine.

~ SIENNA ~

I blinked once. Twice. Then many more times as I looked at the other pictures which showed the same man and woman in different sèx positions.

When I managed to find my voice, I asked, "What is the meaning of this, Harry?"

That was it. It was like throwing a lit match into a pile of hay that had been soaked in gasoline. Harry turned beet red.

"You dare ask me what that is?! You whorè! I work my ass off everyday to give you the life I thought you deserve. And this is what you do when I'm away?" he barked.

"Harry, that is not me..." I started.

"Say what now?" he asked in obvious disgust.

"I know what it looks like but..."

"Oh, Sienna." He sounded like his restraint was killing him. "Please, don't insult my intelligence like this."

"Where did you even get these?" I queried, still looking at the pictures in disbelief.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it does!"

"If you must know, someone who is tired of keeping your secret sent them to my mail."

"I don't know what else to say, Harry. You were my first and I've never cheated on you. Ever!".

"I can't do this with you right now." He rubbed his temple. "My secretary would have the divorce papers delivered to you. Please, sign them so we can both move on with our lives."

With that, he was gone. While I stood there confused, hurt, and still fuckíng séx starved.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~ TWO WEEKS LATER ~

"You should have called me immediately," Margo consoled me, her hands rubbing up and down my back as I ruined her silk shirt with tears and catarrh. Beside us on the sofa, a newly opened pack of tissue laid already half empty. I was a wreck.

"You were away for work. I didn't want to be a bother," I muttered.

"Nonsense. I would have taken the next available flight back to Boston. What are best friends for?"

"Oh Margo..." I was going to say more, thank her for being here but I couldn't get any more words out. My head ached and my eyes were swollen from crying.

Harry had indeed sent me divorce papers. And he was taking everything. The house, the cars, the insurance, everything.

"I always knew he was up to no good," Margo said with a sigh. "You never listened to my advice."

From the beginning, Margo never liked Harry and every conversation I had with her about him ended in, "I wonder what you see in him."

But I knew what I saw. A hardworking young man who didn't come from a lot but was determined to make a lot come from him. Harry's drive was ruthless and I bought into his vision, investing nearly my entire trust fund into his startup five years ago.

I didn't regret it. Joseman Constructions had grown in leaps and bounds and even gotten several national recognitions. The only reason Harry was in a financial mess now was because he made a bad investment - one I had warned him against.

"You insist it isn't you in those pictures?" Margo asked.

I swallowed hard. I couldn't blame even my best friend for doubting me. The woman in the pictures had my whole face; grey eyes, brown hair, freckles, widow's peak and all. We had also decided they weren't edited or fake pictures.

Which meant either I was lying or there was someone out there who, for some reason, looked exactly like me. I would admit that the first one seemed more likely.

"It's not me, Margo. I wouldn't lie to you. I've never been with another man besides Harry."

"In that case, we have questions and Harry will have to give us answers. Who sent the pictures? When and where were the pictures taken? He can't just drop a huge accusation like this on you and disappear without giving you a chance to defend yourself. Where is he?"

"Definitely at his office."

Harry hadn't slept at home since the day he asked for a divorce but I knew he would be at his company right now. There was nowhere else to find him on a Wednesday - or any working day - morning.

The drive to Harry's company was long and uneventful. I sat gloomily in the passenger seat while Margo drove with upbeat music on blast, probably to lift my mood. But nothing could lift my mood. Not music. Not the vibrant scenery of Boston as it blurred by. Not the cup of strawberry boba tea sweating in the car's cup holder.

I gave up everything for this marriage. My family. My inheritance. My meticulously planned future by my parents. Only to have it end over a false allegation of infidelity?

On getting to the company, I noticed it was very busy right from the car park. Margo maneuvered her car into a luckily free spot and killed the engine.

"Doesn't look to me like a company that's struggling with clients," she noted as she looked around. "Wait. Isn't that Oasis news company?"

I followed her eyes and truly, a branded bus with the news company's logo was parked at the exit gate with people packing equipment into it. It looked like they just finished a shoot. My heart dropped. Were they about to publicize the company's bad fortune? That would discourage clients further and make things even worse for Harry. For us.

I jumped out of the car and half-ran towards the company bus. A man was standing at the back, coiling a long cable.

"Hello!" I called out as he seemed engrossed in his task.

He raised his head. "Hello. Sam for Oasis news. How can I help you?"

He obviously didn't recognize me as the wife of the CEO of this company. Nobody would. Harry kept me hidden like a contagious rash while my ideas literally ran the business.

"Uhmmm... I see you have just concluded a shoot. Mind sharing what it was about?"

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds before answering with a shrug. "Joseman Constructions just closed a million dollar deal that is projected to nearly double their yearly revenue. This is after they closed another one with Harper Inc. last month. We just finished an interview with the CEO, Harry Joseman to find out how he's able to do it all. Why do you ask?"

The man spoke fluently enough but with each sentence, it seemed his words began to run into each other. By the time he finished, all I could hear was an eerie high pitched ring in my head. Harry lied to me. The bad investment, the financial troubles, the nights of sleeping over at the office because he was 'building from scratch'... everything was a lie.

His company was swimming in profit yet he made us cut down expenses at home to save money? I was livid!

"Are you okay, ma'am?" The reporter asked with concern.

"Yes, thank you," I mumbled as I dragged my feet away from him and towards the company building. It was even busier inside and nobody seemed to notice me.

"Hey! You just left me," Margo chirped as she ran up to meet me. "What was that about?"

I couldn't answer and thankfully, she sensed my temper and didn't say anything else. She just walked beside me until we reached Harry's office door. I was going to slam it open but sounds coming from inside the office stopped me.

"I hope you like the gift, Cassy. I couldn't have closed this deal without you. It is as much your win as mine." The unmistakable voice of my husband spoke adoringly.

"Don't say that, darling. You did all the hard work. I was just here to suck the stress out of you when it got too much. You work like a horse." A female voice replied, dripping with honey.

"Do I fúck like one?" Harry laughed.

Deciding I had heard enough, I pushed the office door open and it hit the wall with a bang. The sight before me sent bile up my throat. Harry was leaning back in his swivel chair and Cassy was sitting on his table, her legs spread open in front of him, giving him a good view of whatever was under her skirt. A designer boxed wristwatch was sitting on the table - definitely the gift.

Harry shot up from his chair on seeing me and I saw that his pants zipper was open and his díck was sticking out. There was no remorse on his face. Just surprise - and sweat. Lots of sweat, even with the air conditioning unit on.

"Well, now that you've found out, what next?" he commented offhandedly, tucking himself back in.

I couldn't believe my ears. Even in this moment, caught red handed cheating, Harry couldn't be bothered to at least pretend he was sorry.

I was so angry, my body was trembling like a dry leaf in autumn. Forcing my legs to move, I closed the gap between us until I was standing in front of them. Cassy seemed more concerned with safeguarding her gift as she gathered it off the table.

I raised a shaky hand and it landed on Harry's cheek. Hard. "You lying, cheating bastard!"

He stumbled backwards and brought his palm to his jaw. I really hoped I broke something.

I was going to give him a good tongue lashing when I heard Margo gasp. I had even forgotten she was there. Before I could turn to see the reason for her gasp, I felt it.

A slap from Cassy that instantly made my left cheek numb. I had no doubts her palm was now imprinted on my face.

"How dare you, Sienna!" she shrieked. "How dare you disrespect my man like that?!"

~ SIENNA ~

Finding out my husband is fúcking his manager was bad enough. Getting dealt a smoky slap by that manager was the nail in the coffin.

Convinced the day couldn't get any worse, I agreed to go to a bar with Margo. Ever since the incident that happened the last time I was at one, bars had become my least favourite place - after hospitals.

The music was slow but with a strong tempo; low enough to allow conversation, loud enough for guests to enjoy a dance. Just perfect.

"Finally we get to hangout after all the times you cancelled on me because 'Harry needs you'," Margo quipped, sipping her margarita like she was in a commercial. Forever the graceful lady.

I couldn't defend myself - she was right. I let Harry isolate me from everybody dear to me and what did I get in return? Lies, betrayal and divorce papers with the most insensitive conditions.

It didn't matter that I funded our wedding and honeymoon because he didn't have much at the time. It didn't matter that I spent the last five years outside the workforce because he wanted me to be a housewife. It didn't matter that I was literally the brain behind the success of his company and gave it its first major investment. From the terms on the divorce papers, Harry was determined to leave me high and dry.

This afternoon, he had stood by Cassy after she slapped me. While still standing in shock from the slap, I watched her turn to caress Harry's face, rubbing the spot of my slap as if she was some genie and her touch could magically make the pain disappear.

At that moment, I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me. But it didn't. In its defense, it needed to be there for me to do the walk of shame when Harry finally ordered me to leave his office.

"Guess what?" Margo's voice snapped me back to the present.

"It's the last thing I want to do," I murmured, downing another shot of tequila and biting lime.

Without another word, she slid her phone to me on the table. On the screen was a picture of Harry and Cassy in the position we had caught them in. My heart rate quickened.

Margo looked super proud of herself. "I was able to capture just one before they separated. For legal purposes. To prove he was also cheating."

"Also?"

"I mean... to prove he was the one actually cheating. That way, you can negotiate the terms of the divorce."

I sighed as I picked the phone to see the picture clearly. Harry was looking at Cassy like she hand sorted every star in the Milky Way. I couldn't remember the last time he looked at me like that. Without thinking, I clicked the delete option and watched the picture disappear. I didn't need a memento from the worst moment of my life.

Margo was horrified to see what I did. "Don't tell me the heartbreak has driven you insane!" she snapped. "How do you intend to contest his divorce terms if you're not collating evidence of his wrongdoing?"

"I don't want to fight Harry in court, Margo. It will make the divorce more publicized and things could get messy. That would break me. Besides, we don't have any kids so he owes me nothing-"

"What do you mean he owes you nothing?!" She noticed she got too loud and softened her tone, leaning closer to me. "You and I know that if you weren't involved, Joseman Constructions would have folded a long time ago and Harry would be living the rest of his days as an upcoming musician."

That forced a laugh out of me. Harry had quite the passion for music. He always said if he wasn't an engineer, he would have been a musician. While we were dating, he used to serenade me a lot.

"You know that's not true. He sings quite well," I objected.

She shook her head. "You're still defending him. You know, I thought it was the séx. I thought maybe he was so good in bed, you couldn't see beyond his séxual prowess. But I saw his díck this afternoon and that thing can fit in a thimble," she ranted, wriggling her pinky finger.

"Margo Darby!" I exclaimed.

"My mother taught me to tell the truth," she said with a shrug and returned to sipping her drink.

I pulled the divorce papers out of my bag and began to flip through. Even though Harry's secretary had delivered them last week, they remained unsigned because I was still in denial - up until this afternoon. In that office, I saw why Harry barely came home anymore. Cassy was his happy place. I had really lost my husband.

Before the tears could completely cloud my vision, I fished a pen from my bag and signed the divorce papers in all the places that required my signature. Then I pulled off my wedding ring which Harry had been promising to upgrade since forever and put it in the envelope along with the divorce papers. Margo's jaw was still on the floor when I finally slipped everything back into my bag.

"See? Done! I'm a single lady!" I rejoiced, stumbling up from my chair. The room seemed to tilt slightly to the left. Or was it the right? I couldn't tell.

"Where are you going, Sienna?"

"To the dance floor. To do what single ladies do!"

She didn't stop me. She couldn't stop me. Nobody could. I was done asking for permission from anybody to do what I wanted. And right now, I wanted to dance. I made my way to the heart of the dance floor, swaying my hips to the lively music. I hadn't danced for long when I felt a presence behind me.

"Why is a beautiful woman like you dancing alone?"

I turned to see a lanky man looking at me with lustful eyes even with my simple T-shirt and jorts. He seemed nervous, like he thought I was above his league. I was. Regardless, I flashed him a flirtatious smile.

"I was waiting for you." The words tasted like sawdust on my tongue.

"Well, here I am." He put his hands on my waist and we started dancing. I had not been this sinfully close to a man that wasn't Harry in years and my heart was beating like I was doing something wrong. I reminded myself that I was now divorced and could do whatever I liked.

"Want to take this to the next level?" he asked after a few minutes of dancing - and stepping on my toes.

I took a proper look at my dancing partner. He looked okay enough. Maybe I was vain but what was that thing they said about leveling up after an ex? This man was not nearly as handsome or classy as Harry but I wasn't about to marry him. I just needed him to scratch an 'itch'. And with the way his eyes twinkled, he was born ready.

"What is the next level?"

"Let me show you," he answered, leading me away from the dance floor.

In a minute, we were in the bar's surprisingly deserted toilet and he locked the door like he owned the place, which amused me. Our hands were all over each other and it was going well - until he brought his lips to mine. I immediately got the ick. Kisses are reserved for men I'm actually attracted to.

"Just fúck me," I countered. "Got a condóm?"

"A gentleman always does," he answered, digging in his pocket for it. He was no gentleman but I said nothing as I waited, bent against the sink while he slipped the condóm on.

He lifted my T-shirt and I felt the exact moment he stilled. The calloused hand digging into my hips let go and his whole body tensed. It seemed like he had seen Medusa and turned into stone.

Before I could ask what the problem was, he spoke, "Bloody hell... people still do this fúckery?"

"What fúckery?"

"Putting names of fúckers on their body... Who the fúck is Harry?"

Shít. Shít. Shít!

I had completely forgotten about my tattoo. In the early days of our marriage when I was still drunk in love, I had suggested to Harry that we get matching tattoos. Maybe a heart or our wedding date on our wrists.

I am not sure exactly when the tides shifted but we visited a tattoo shop and I walked out with a tattoo of his name on my lower back, right above my waistline, while he got no tattoo.

Maybe the fact that it was on my back and I didn't see it often, combined with how long it had been since Harry commented on it, contributed to the tattoo being nearly non-existent in my books.

In record time, the man had pulled his pants back up and was blowing hot, "If any daughter of mine ever inks a random man's name on her body, I'd disown her. Only a simp would fùck a woman while reading another man's name off her waist like a chant."

With that, he stormed out of the toilet, slamming the door much harder than necessary. I was right; he was not a gentleman.

As I fixed my own clothing, watching my face in the mirror, I could only think of how low I had fallen.

Sienna Monroe. Harvard cúm laude engineering graduate. Only child of the biggest hoteliers in New York. Once happily married to her college sweetheart.

Now estranged from her family. Divorced on accusation of adultery. Broke and jobless.

Oh, and so séx starved, she was ready to fúck a stranger in a public toilet. But even he bailed out on her.

I could taste my tears as they reached my mouth; they tasted like shame and failure. How low can you go, Sienna Monroe?