Who’s Cheating Who NSFW

Who’s Cheating Who

“I did not fucking cheat on you!” I screamed at Sam as he began throwing his clothes in a bag on our bed.

“Yeah right, I saw you coming out of the arsehole’s fucking house yesterday arvo.”

“What house?”

“The one down on Smith St, which house do you think?”

“You idiot. That’s Megan’s new house. I told you her and Anthony moved in last week, but you were too fucking busy to come to the house warming.” I spat back at him while thumping the wall.

He stopped throwing clothes into his bag and looked at me. Damn why did he have too look so good, so darn easy on the eyes, especially when I was so pissed at him?

“Ok, so this once I got it wrong, what about all the other times?” He said calmly as if he’d been thinking about this topic for a long time.

“What other times?” I said in a slightly calmer voice but still pissed off. “I’ve never fucking cheated on you and I never will.”

“No, but you’ve wanted too!” Clothes started flying from the drawers into his bags again.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?”

“I’ve seen the way you spend all day perving on that dickhead in the band. Watching his videos on the net, dribbling over his fucking CD’s”

“What band?” I asked wondering if he was serious.

“I don’t know their name. That stupid fucking band we saw in the city a few weeks back. The one with that stupid singer whose voice sounds like a cat being strangled while being fucked by a doberman. The guy who can’t grow a real beard to save himself. The guy that is such a pussy he couldn’t even get himself a real tatt so he wears fake tatt sleeves.”

“They are not fake.” I screamed not quite admitting anything but saying too much at the same time.

“See, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Same thing goes for that bloody racing car dick we meet 6 months ago. You’ve spent the entire time since then mind fucking that guy every chance you get.”

“Since when if mind fucking cheating? You do it.”

I had no idea where the argument was going, it was getting sillier by the minute. Sam had only stopped packing his bags because he couldn’t fit anything more in them and we were still yelling at each other.

“Yeah but I only do it with good looking chicks.” He said as he pushed passed me and headed out the door of the bedroom.

I stormed after him, still yelling at the top of my voice. “So this whole fucking outburst is because I didn’t cheat with a real person and might have a fantasy or two about guys you think are ugly?”

Receiving my answer as a wall of silence, or more accurately a door of silence as he stormed out of the house slamming the front door I had mixed emotions.

Do I chase after him?

Do I tell him I’ll stop fantasising about musos and fast drivers, while knowing I couldn’t if I tired?

Do I let him keep walking?

Or do I call Chaz and tell him that the house is empty and he can come around for a quick root before the gig starts?

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