Writing Saddle (Lupine Love Letters #1)

Maisie

. . .

ONE

Men are good for three things: orgasms, entertainment, and protection. But all three of those things could be solved with my right hand, a good book, and a taser, so really, men ain’t shit.

I’m not sure how I hadn’t come to that realization before walking in on my boyfriend of two years balls deep in some petite blonde's perfectly bald pussy, but apparently, it took hearing her obnoxiously sexy moans to really drive that lesson home. The cherry on top? I found a ring in his dresser just last week, and now, I’m second guessing if it was ever intended for me.

I’m standing frozen as I watch her perky tits bounce while she rides my boyfriend’s average-sized cock reverse cowgirl like it’s the best thing she’s ever experienced. Newsflash: it’s not even close. I’m not sure why I keep staring, but it's like a train wreck you just can’t pull your eyes from.

This girl could be on a magazine cover if the prompt was, give us a girl who’s the opposite in every way to Maisie Brooks.

My strawberry red hair is no match for her perfectly highlighted blonde.

It looks like she just walked out of the salon with a fresh blow out.

Apparently, her hair and back both had blow out appointments today.

I could probably wrap her entire body around my pinky finger. I’ll be the first to admit, I can give credit where it’s due, and she has one immaculate rack on her. What I lack upstairs, I make up for with my ass, so I’m counting that as today's small win.

If Carl had any brain cells, he would have her facing the other way so he could at least enjoy the view.

His eyes are closed tight, though, head thrown back in ecstasy.

He hasn’t even noticed me standing in his office door yet, his forgotten lunch still clutched in my hand as I watch my life unfold.

God, is that how he sounds when we have sex?

His pathetic grunts sound like he’s constipated.

Now, I have the ick again. Sweat drips down his forehead, as if he’s doing any of the work here.

Blondie is putting on the performance of her life while he sits there and takes it.

It’s pathetic, really. The least he could do is reach around and play with her clit.

It’s times like this I wonder if I was meant to date women.

Carl is average at best, from his personality to his looks. The one redeeming thing he had going for him was his honesty. He’s felt like a stable rock in a life of uncertainty. It’s laughable how wrong I was.

I should be more disgusted and upset, but I just couldn’t be bothered. Life is exhausting, and if I got upset every time someone has disappointed me, well, I would be a shell of a human. It may very well all come crashing down once I leave and reality comes to slap me across the face…or maybe not.

Right now, all I can do is laugh. Not some gentle, feminine laugh. I'm talking a full-on hysterical cackle I can’t seem to stop.

I’ve officially gone crazy. I knew this day would come eventually. My life has been one big fuck you letter from whoever my almighty puppet master is. I feel like I live in a damn pinball machine.

Whoever you are, you’ve officially won. You dangled a fraud in front of me, and I clung to him with self-made blinders on, chasing any type of love I could find in this lonely world.

Blondie gasps once she spots me—or, rather, hears me.

And, of course, she even makes that sound sexy.

It could also be Carl jackhammering into her once his petrified eyes connect with his psychotic girlfriend watching his escapades in 4K.

She has the decency to cover her boobs with her palms; there goes the one good thing going on in this room.

“Maisie? It’s…it’s not what it looks like,” he whines, his dick deflating right before my eyes.

Pathetic.

I roll my eyes and can’t even fake sounding bothered.

“Oh, please. Be so fucking for real right now, Carl.” I stroll into the room like I own the place and set his Spiderman-themed lunchpail he just had to have right in blondie’s lap, covering her goods.

I pat one of his chicken thighs and shoot him a feline smile.

“I’ll be leaving this here for you to snack on after you finish with this sweet little treat.

” I throw the girl a wink, and goddamn it, she blushes. It’s the little wins in life.

I spin on my heels, heading for the door. “And you will be leaving my life for good, effective immediately.” I can’t help but smile at him. “You’ve just been evicted, fucker. Have a good life…or not.”

Items clatter to the ground, cussing and rushing feet catching up to me. “Maisie, wait! Can you just hold on a second? We can work this out, baby. It’s only a minor setback.”

The laugh that comes out of me this time is pure evil.

I whirl on him, and he almost runs into me.

He’s got his boxers on, thankfully, but he’s wobbling around with his pants still thrown down to his ankles.

He’s so flustered, he’s forgotten we are standing in an office full of people.

His coworkers, to be exact. His cheeks flame bright red, and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“Minor setback,” I seethe. “A minor setback is when Starbucks runs out of whipped cream for my drink. You volunteering your dick to be warmed by that woman's vagina is the furthest thing from a minor setback. It’s a fucking wakeup call is what it is.” I take a deep breath before I start hysterically laughing in front of the growing audience collected around us.

We are making quite the scene, some would say.

“Now, get out of my face. Your presence is annoying me.”

He reaches for my arm, falling to his bare knees, and it’s in this moment I wonder what I ever saw in him.

Am I upset and embarrassed he made me out to be a fool and wasted two years of my life?

Yes. But seeing this grown man pants-less and down on his knees in front of all his peers, begging for my forgiveness, is a high I’ll never forget.

“Maisie, baby. Please, don’t do this.” He’s mumbling madness under his breath so fast, I can’t track a single word. And is that…a tear I spot? Call me impressed; the man really is worked up. It almost makes me feel bad about the lack of tears from me.

I bring my fingers to his lips. “Sweetheart, your dick already did all the talking for the both of you. Maybe blondie will give you some sympathy, but you won’t find any here.

” Just to patronize him and knock him down one final peg, I pat his head like a child.

“I want your stuff out of the apartment by end of day. And I’m keeping the plants.

” His face falls, seeming more upset at losing his precious plants than me.

I’m about to leave before I think of one last thing.

“Oh, and I want the ring. It should fetch me a pretty penny at the pawn shop for my hardships. Toodles.”

I’m like a living tornado as I storm out, his pleas following me into the brisk, spring New York air.

I book it across the street and down a few blocks back to my work building.

I’m even more pissed when I realize I wasted my entire lunch break before my meeting trying to do something nice for a backstabbing man wannabe, because Carl is definitely all boy.

I make it up the final steps to my office with one second to spare. I’m huffing so hard, people are probably thinking I just got back from a dick appointment instead of suffering through watching one.

I have my eyes set on my plush chair. Just a few more steps to go when the she-devil herself beckons me.

“Maisie, my office, now!”