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Hello Darling. I’m an alter ego named Phyllis. When the black widow comes out to play, there is no Gypsy. She is tucked away for my personal pleasure. Sit back and enjoy my erotic journey into making sure married men enjoy cheating as much as I do. 

I’ve waited long enough for that man to come to his senses. William and his wife Jillian might seem like the perfect couple, but when you see the cracks, you realize how deep the problems are. When foundations are unrepairable, that’s where I come in.

Years ago I met William’s father after he was widowed. We became an item quickly, but truth be told, what I was really after was the young buck. His father had the money, but William would be the perfect victim for my cheating crimes. Plus his wife loved to spend more time away from him than a loving spouse should. I gave it two years after the death before clenching my well manicure talons around William. He was always a sucker for my nails, so now, it was time to put them to good use.

I waited a house away and watched as Jillian loaded her car and drove away from that long circular drive. She would be off on one of her many adventures, and by the look of the luggage, at least a few days. My target stood in the doorway, shoulders slumped as the little woman left. A man like William shouldn’t be left alone. Well, not by a real woman he shouldn’t. I would be the woman that put a smile back on his face. Believe me, I have millions of reasons why. The old man was loaded and I knew that William would get it all. Hence, I would get it all as well.

Dressed in a sleek blue dress, white heels, and my hair perfectly done, I knew all of that would be ignored. There was one part of me that William couldn’t resist. My hundred dollar manicure and soft petal pink nails. He always admired them, which in turn pissed Jillian off. Oddly enough, whenever I waved those talons at him, he became mesmerized by them.

Knock knock

As the door opened my smile radiated a warmth that I knew William could feel deep in his balls. Without him saying a word, I leaned in for a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around his frame. What man could push a woman like me away?

“Darling boy, I am so sorry about your father. I know its been a little bit, but I am still saddened by his loss,” I cried.

William stiffened, looking around to make sure none of the neighbors were watching the embrace. Finally allowing his body to rest, he returned the hug, but his face still showed shock.

“Phyliss, it’s been a few years, but thank you. He’s missed by all that knew him,” he said in a cracked voice.

I laughed, watching his eyes as my hand moved to the nap of his neck, dragging those nails over the flesh. That’s when I knew this would be a piece of cake. Scraping my talons over his neck, his eyes glossed over in a dream like state. William has such a weakness for my nails.

“Sweet boy, take me in. I know Jillian isn’t home. She’s never home,” I snapped.

William stepped aside, his mind now in a trance like state. It was those nails that he could never get off his mind. As they walked to the couch, sitting, he struggled for words.

“She’s a good wife, but yes, she is always gone with her friends,” he sighed.

I couldn’t help but be amused by this. Why was he sighing, but more so because he didn’t seem concerned over her absence. I reached out taking his hand in mine, my thumb nail softly caressing the top of his hand. Moving quickly was not my goal. I needed to take him hook, line, and sinker into my boat.

I was determined to turn William into a cheating man.

“William, you know that I am the only woman for you. I could see that in your eyes the day we met. Jillian was never good enough for you,” I whispered.

My hands now tangling in his hair, scathing my nails on his scalp. His body tensing and he moaned out, shaking in approval.

“William, it’s time I take my rightful place. It’s time for Jillian to go, forever. I have arranged that,” I laughed.

He simply nodded, knowing that Phyllis was right. Jillian did need to go and she would take her place in his life and his bed. How could he ever be with his wife again after all of this.

It was time for the fatal act of fully killing his marriage. I slid a hand beneath my skirt, allowing the dew to drip from my pussy onto my fingers. One push between his lips of that powerful honey and the Black Widow had taken another loyal man into her cheating web.

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When did I fall from grace? I am not sure there was an exact moment, but when it happened, I couldn’t go back. I knew that the like of sin was the one for me. First off, let me begin by saying I have always been a good Catholic. Private girls school, catechism classes, and my life given to God in a huge ceremony. My family went all out for the party afterwards, but something shut off inside of me that day. The light inside of me suddenly went dim and dark. Maybe it was walking in on the family Priest and one of the altar boys, or that I found porn hidden under the family bible. Either way, I think all of it added up to who and what I am today.

One of my first diabolical acts was so bad that I might have sealed my passage into hell. If not, I am damn close to ending up in the hottest place on earth. Closing my eyes, I can still remember it all.

Sunday morning was always a dreaded day for me. Who wants to get up when they don’t have to and sit through mass? Not me. I would rather be laying on the beach drinking a margarita. The night before I had pulled out a short pink skirt, white blouse, and some stockings. You know, the ones with the lacy elastic band around the thighs. Sitting on top of the perfectly folded clothing was my rosary. I had gotten that very one when I was still a child. A gift from my parents for getting straight A’s. God forbid they just give me money like everyone else’s parents did.

It was at that very moment when I knew today would be different. Slipping on the outfit, I made sure there was not a wrinkle to be seen. Another pet peeve of my mothers is wrinkled clothing. That woman even irons her undies. Other than the rosary, the last thing was my 5 inch spiked stiletto heels. I love the way they make my legs look. I sat on the edge of the bed in front of a full length mirror and spread my legs. Did I mention that I forgot the panties? Well, I did. Rolling the beaded part of the rosary up, I pushed them in my tight bald pussy and left the cross to dangle out. Perfect accessory for that outfit. Pushing it back and forth over my lips, I felt a tingle deep inside. I was getting wet just from the thought of going to church this way.

Holy Innocents Catholic Church was the one I chose. It’s not my home church, but I thought better of going there. My parents would attend and well, nothing good could happen if they did. I would never do something like I had planned with them around. The moment I walked into the building, my nose burned from the pungent aroma of incense. Rubbing my fingers under each nostril, it was impossible to fight that odor. For fuck sakes, it was so strong that I would be shocked if some old person didn’t have an asthma attack. I have perfect lungs and still found it hard to breathe.

Stopping only to apply holy water, I did a second dip, but this time not for my forehead. One glance around and my nimble little fingers slipped to my lower lips, blessing the cross that dangled from my pussy. I knew it wasn’t possible, but a spark of electricity raced through my pulsating veins. I had never in my life felt so alive as I did at that moment.

Pushing forward, the only seat I wanted was in the front row. Nothing else would give me the satisfaction that I needed. Thankfully for me, the front row was completely empty, and the moment I sat on that well polished bench, a little clink from the rosary on the wood made me giggle. As my eyes scanned the room, I noticed the small table in front. Shit, it’s communion Sunday. I completely forgot about the date. Oh well, that might make this entire trip a little more fun.

Father Samuel Martinez was doing the service. I had met him one time in the past, but I was just a child and looked a lot different than I do now. He was middle aged when I met him before, but now, this man was closer to death than anyone I had ever known. Father Sam dressed in the traditional Priest garb, but then again, that’s what I wanted today. As he stood in front of the congregation spewing his words of how God gave his only son for our sins I decided to find out just how much is forgiven.

A glance to the right, then to the left, I moved in my seat, opening my legs enough to give the old man a clear view of my cross adorned pussy. Holding a bible in my hands, I whispered the verse he was quoting, but my legs stayed open. Peeking over the top of the tattered old book, there was no doubt that he saw my pussy. Adjusting the collar of his gown, the poor old man began to sweat. Dribbles of perspiration poured from his forehead as a smirk creased my lips. Knowing full well I had his attention, I pushed a hand between my legs and slowly pulled the rosary from my tight bald pussy. Bringing the cross to my lips nonchalantly, I kissed the crucifix, tasting my pussy for the first time. Sweet as honey, I sucked the little trophy between my lips, holding it there for a moment. It was at that moment that I might have gone a little too far.

Father Samuel clutched his chest, pointing to me as he fell from the altar. The funeral is next week. Should I wear black?

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The Submissive Female inside of me was dwindling.

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