My Mom's Ex-Husband (The Forbidden Fun)

“Fine, it might be legal, but it’s not morally right,” she sniffs haughtily.

“You’re going to lecture me about right and wrong after the way you treated Faith? Who says those crude words? Where did you even learn to talk like that? She’s beautiful and you’re a fucking harlot.”

Samantha merely jiggles her titties at me, a gleam in her eye.

“Beautiful? Really? If you think my daughter’s beautiful, then why not go straight to the source? Moi, big boy. This is where the original DNA began.”

A small mouthful of vomit comes up the back of my throat, and I force myself to swallow hard. There’s nothing uglier than Samantha right now, with her oddly orange skin and dried-out, straw-like hair.

“You know what? You’re a saggy piece of shit for a mother.”

She frowns, pausing for a moment while jiggling her titties thoughtfully.

“Take it back.”

“No, it’s the truth. You don’t give a shit about Faith. You made that clear her whole life, but completely solidified it with your bad behavior just now.”

“You don’t know anything about my daughter and me!” Samantha sniffs while reaching for her veil.

I shake my head with disgust. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter when we were married, and to be honest, it’s amazing that Faith shares any of your DNA whatsoever. You’re nothing alike.”

Samantha sighs, carefully placing the veil back on her head before patting her hair. “I didn’t mention Faith when we were married because she hates me and wouldn’t have wanted to meet you anyway. Besides, we were married for how long? Six days maybe? You basically boinked me and then took off.”

I stare at the cougar again.

“Your mouth is so vile, I’m surprised I ever fucked it.”

Samantha immediately pops her mouth open into a round “O.”

“Do it again,” she begs. “I’ll let you, big boy.”

That does it. It’s clear there’s no reasoning with this woman, and that she may actually be deranged. After all, Samantha’s currently in a hotel ballroom wearing nothing except her veil and high heels. Those saggy assets are still out for anyone to see should they pop their head in, and our conversation is going absolutely nowhere.

I don’t bother to say goodbye. I merely turn on my heel and stride out, determined to find Faith.

“Tell my daughter that she’s still invited to the wedding,” Samantha calls after me. “Georgie will come around, don’t worry. We’ll reschedule and Faith can be the slutty maid of honor this time.”

I growl, striding quickly from the room. The more distance I put between myself and my ex, the better. In the meantime, I have to find the woman I love to explain this fucked-up situation.

Outside the hotel, I look left and right. If I were a distraught girl, where would I go? To the left, there are a bunch of stores and office buildings. To the right, about two blocks down, is a small park. Quickly, I jump forward because I have no doubt where Faith has parked herself.

Sure enough, I find my girlfriend alone on a bench in the park, crying softly into her hands. My heart breaks when I see her with her brown curls tumbled, and her cheeks stained pink. When I sit next to her, she jumps up, frightened, but then her face takes on a look of terror.

“Don’t—” she begins.

“Faith,” I say quietly. “Please give me a chance to explain. I swear, I didn’t know.”

She stares at me for a second. “I can’t believe you never told me that my mom was your ex-wife,” she whispers.

“I swear, Faith, I had no idea,” I repeat in an urgent voice. But the beautiful woman stares straight ahead now, her voice a monotone.

“How did you even meet Samantha?”

I sigh. I haven’t thought about this in a long time, and I’d prefer not to rehash it, but clearly, the story must be told.

“It was years ago. I was in Monaco at a ski competition, and I took first place. That night, I went to the resort bar to celebrate with a few buddies, which is pretty normal for these things. Samantha was vacationing there, and we got to talking. To be honest, the alcohol was flowing hard, and the next morning, I literally woke up with a ring on my finger.”

My girlfriend looks at me with horror.

“You what?”

I nod miserably.

“In my drunken state, I guess I agreed to get married. To this day, I have no idea how Samantha found a clerk, or even where the ceremony was performed. All I know is that the wedding certificate was real. I had a wife.”

Faith is silent for a moment, but then she looks out over the park again.

“I remember that vacation,” she says slowly. “Mom used the money from her latest divorce settlement and took a month-long jaunt to Europe. I know she stopped in Monaco, but she never mentioned getting married.”