The Other Woman

Mistress

Its not such a bad term, once you get used to it. What I do not understand is why she, or shall I say, I, always gets blamed and loathed in these situations. In case you've all forgotten it takes two to tango. And furthermore, being a mistress hurts too. Well I believe it depends on the type of person you are actually. Am I soul-less whore, who needs to get fucked for the simple pleasure of it? No, absolutely not. I just cant seem to get him out of my system. He's always there, like a cancer upon my now weakening body. And every time we both try to get rid of each other from our lives, something, just something, always brings us back. It was a perpetual carousal with emotions, anger and lust, going round and round, all over again.

Now, here I am. A blissful 28 year old, Serenity Reynolds. On a plane to Washington D.C. And for what? To sleep with him once again. It hurts sometimes when I think about it, what I'm doing to this man, and even more importantly what I'm doing to his wife and 2 kids he has, left behind like old high school friends, at home. When he and I are together though, I just cant help myself. Those emerald green eyes of his, that messy black hair, the small love handles attached to his somewhat slender hips. Everything about him made a smile creep along my bright face and filled my eyes and body with an unimaginable lust.

"Dammit" I scoffed under my breath. One of the crew's flight attendants had just spilled a small amount of orange juice on my now spotted pants.
"Sorry about that" she says. She's wearing a tired look on her face, while her hair is in a messy bun, with a few loose strand descending down her forehead.
"Its ok" I said, while smiling at her. How could I be mad at her, people make mistakes all the time, its life. See, I told you I wasn't a mean, cruel, groveling slut. I am kind at heart, which I think is another reason why he cares for me. I know what he has for me doesn't even come in an inkling of comparison for the love that he shares with his wife. He even told me before, which I completely understand (a little).

*Flashback*

"Don't get me wrong, I have some feelings for you, but what I have with Adie is just so much more" he said to my cowering ears.
And he wasn't done bragging about her yet. His wife seemed like a nice person, which was another dilemma. How could you knowingly have an affair with a good wife's husband? Simple answer, when he's Billie Joe Armstrong, has credulous green eyes, and when he fucks like he's superman.

"I love her to death, I don't even know why I'm here with you, I feel guilty every time" he said, still caressing my happy stomach.

We lay on my black and blue striped couch in my living room. We had just finished watching Nosferatu, A Symphony of Terror, which is basically the very original and best vampire film, still in black and white. I was laying horizontally with my black couch pillows snuggling at my feet, and Billie Joe was laying on me. His head was cradled right on my vibrant lap, as his callused hands rubbed my tingling stomach. During the film, the majority of the time we were throwing popcorn into each other's mouths, and giving the occasional short pop kiss to one another.

"This isn't my ideal relationship either Billie" I replied.
"In case you don't notice, being with someone who knows that they'll never love you, or you cant even be seen in public with is some pretty fucked up shit too" I added with a defensive yet hurt tone.
"I do realize that Seny". He replied. Billie Joe then positioned his body up towards me, so that our faces were only millimeters away from each other. And dammit, I hated when he used that pet name for me. It made me soft, like heated mash potatoes, ready to serve.

"And I'm sorry, but I do care for you somewhat, don't think that I'm just using you as a replacement during sex for my wife."
And with that, his pink and ripe lips came upon my own, ready for picking and packaging. I kissed him back, not even remembering what we had just previously disputed about. I felt his tongue trace the rim of my lips, eager to enter my mouth. Willingly I slide my teeth apart, allowing my own tongue to roam inside his mouth as his does the same to mine.

Before I realized what was happening, my happy hands were roaming all over his bare back, touching every tattoo, every scar, and every goose bump. Billie Joe had already managed to slide my lacey halter top from off my body, and lucky for him I wasn't wearing a bra. So as our bare chests came and lingered together, it wasn't a surprise when he suddenly withdrew from me, and stood up from off of the couch.

"Come here" he said in a seductive tone, running vivacious chills down my spine. And like a soldier following orders, I stood. He then picked me up by my ass, as I forcibly wrapped my legs around his waist, and his arms every now and then pinching my ass, as we walked and kissed towards my bedroom.

*End of Flashback*

"We will shortly be arriving at Reagan National Airport in D.C. We hoped you enjoyed you flight" the telecom bellowed. The flight to Washington D.C was decent I suppose. The food was edible, no one who was seated behind me kicked or screamed towards my seat, and my flight partner was an old lady who wasn't senile, so when we talked I actually enjoyed the conversation.

"So who do you have waiting for you in D.C?" she asked.
"Oh, just a close friend of mine" I half-lied.
"Is he or she a man?" she nearly giggled.
"Yes, but there's nothing going on between us Margaret" I half lied again to her.

There was nothing REALLY going on between Billie Joe and I. All we were doing was having a little fun with each other, but I knew he didn't really have any feelings like LOVE towards me. And I was content with that, or should I say used to that.

"Well, if I were you Ms. Serenity, you should consider dati----". Before the meddlesome Margaret could finish giving her morbid advice to me, the telecom again sounded.

"May we have everyone's attention, we will now be landing at Reagan National Airport and it could be a bumpy landing, so passengers and crew please fasten your seatbelts, and turn off all electronic devices".

'Yes' I thought to myself. I was almost there to Billie Joe, almost there to ecstasy, almost there to pleasure and lust, almost there to confusion and false hopes, almost there to dishonesty. And the more I thought about all the negative connotations accompanied with Mr. Armstrong, the more I wanted the flight to turn back so I could go home. But it never happened.

I felt like thrusting a screw driver through his temples as he stared at me. All I was simply doing was sitting on one of my luggage bags and waiting for a cab to pick me up. My black sunglasses hung over my eyes, and my jet black hair was streaming onto my face, bought by the wind the tourists were making as they sped to their different locations. I was wearing an olive green tank top and a black skirt, with olive green flip flops, and a small brown bag with my wallet and chewing gum inside. I didn't look that special for him to keep staring so acutely at. Why do complete strangers have to stare at you? It really irritates me. So in turn I flipped my middle finger at the old Spanish guy who had just licked his dry lips, making me want to puke. I felt mentally mutilated as he blew me a weak kiss through his opaque windows and sped off towards the airport exit in his beat up car.

I felt my waist vibrating, but it wasn't Billie Joe who was doing it, it was my cell phone. I stood up and withdrew it from the waistband of my skirt. Struggling to look at the I.D, since the D.C wind was blowing my hair out of place, I put it close to my eyes. It read 'A. Idiot.', which stands for Adultering Idiot, whom I know as Billie Joe.

"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey Serenity, you landed yet" he asked intently.
"Yeah, I'm waiting for a cab to drop me off at the ... ... ." I hesitated while pulling a small brochure out of my purse.
"The what?!" he asked, as if I said something that was too low to hear.
"At the Marriott" I responded, pushing the brochure back into my purse.
"Oh, you do know that I'm staying at the GreensBury right" he giggled.
"Yes Billie Joe, but I don't want to stay there, if you want you can always come and see me, I always have to stay at your dumb hotels" I muttered.
"Oh I'm sorry Serenity, I didn't know you were the one who was risking getting caught" he snapped.
"I don't have time to argue with you Billie Joe, and I see a cab so---".
"You don't have to take a cab, I'll pick you up if you want" he interrupted with an apologetic tone in his voice.
"If you don't mind, but you're the one being bothered."
"Its not a bother, look, I'll be there in 25 minutes"
"Alright, thanks Billie" I smiled into the phone.
"No problem, see you in a few, Bye"
"Bye".

I flipped my phone back and hooked it back onto my hip. I took out my small pocket mirror to check myself. Cute hair: check. Minty breath: check. Appealing smile: check. Nice clothes: check. Yep, I was ready to meet up with him.

30 lackluster minutes later, I saw a shiny black BMW appear in the line of already waiting vehicles. What was he thinking personally picking me up like this? It couldn't be him? Unless he truly was an idiot. He was risking at this moment being mobbed by the mass of fans and spectators gathered at the airport, photographers blasting pictures of me entering his car, and then lastly when Adrienne would see the photos she would become suspicious, and if she wasn't a vapid monkey from Mars, she would notice something awful was going on behind her back.

As the BMW neared me as I sat waiting on the sidewalk for pick-up, I saw a funny looking man appear as the heavily tinted windows wined down. His appearance was like no other. He wore a filthy discombobulated beard on his chin. His hair was slicked back as if he were an important business CEO. The glasses, sliding every now and then on his crooked nose, were broken in half, and had an attachment of white tape for them to bond. It was a real ghastly sight. But I knew that beneath that repugnant costume was the sexy, charming, sneering, and infamous Billie Joe.

"Hey you, with the nice ass, get in here" he sneered from out the car window to me. It was difficult for me not to giggle at his devilish comment. I immediately stood up and carried one bag of luggage from underneath me, and sauntered on over to his car.

"Aren't you going to help me load up my things?" I asked biting my bottom lip.
"Yeah, I was just grabbing my jacket" he whispered in my ear as he passed me to get my remaining belongings.

I could barely make out what he had just whispered in my ear, because I was busy laughing like a mental runaway. First it was his absurd face that got me, but his attire was even funnier. He was wearing the tackiest Hawaiian shirt I had ever seen, complete with tikis and red blossoms. Adding to that, his shirt was a bit unbuttoned and you could see a bushel of fake white chest hair, which was obviously cotton. And to make things even more humorous, his shoes were these nasty little flip flops, with HEELS. They were about only an inch high, but that still qualifies as HEELS. He looked like a beastly transvestite, which earned him many unpleasant and embarrassing stares from the surrounding crowd.

I smirked in his direction and slid my bags into the already open trunk of the car. When I was settling my bags comfortably in the trunk I placed myself into the passenger seat of the car. Moments later he joined me in the driver's seat and we exited Reagan's airport.

"You look really nice, I like your makeover" I snickered.
"Yeah, I thought it was time for a change" he commented while tearing the false beard from his chin.
"mmhhm, much better" I mumble into his chin, kissing him there.
"Fuck, could he drive any slower" he groans, pointing to the blue car driving at a snails pace in front of us.
"You'll be alright".

I turn my head to look out of the window. I had only once previously been to Washington D.C. This was about 5 years ago, when my friend Valerie and I, had gone on a little road trip. It was absolute fun. As silence fell between Billie Joe, I continued staring out of the window. Green trees with yellow and pink blossoms turned into blurs as we drove. The scenery I had to admit was gorgeous. I watched the cars in the lane next to us, and looked at the unfamiliar license plates. Instead of seeing a huge orange, I saw a white plate with three red lines, and 3 stars on top of the lines. I made the presumption that Florida plates were much better looking than D.C's own.

"Do you have the directions for the Marriott?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence that had consumed us.
"Uuh, yeah, let me get it from my purse.".
I shift my arms and pull out my purse from the car floor. I tug out the brochure from out of my purse and tap him on the elbow before handing it to him.

"Lets see.." he said. His tongue appears from the corner of his mouth, as if he's busy trying to figure out a calculus math problem.
"Don't overheat your brain now" I tease.
"Shut up, I was thinking where this might be, next time just take a fucking cab" he teased after poking my side for fun.
"I don't see why just don't stay at my hotel, but whatever, its your choice" he added.

"Exactly, my choice." I said
"So, what venue are you guys playing at tonight?"
"At the Patriot Center, I hope the crowd is lively"
"They will be, haven't you heard about the DC area punks" I mimick, as if I know what im talking about.

Billie Joe giggles to himself.
"What do you know about punks Ms. Serenity?"
"I know that there are many in D.C, and that they're fun, cool, and chill people" I reply.
"Whoa, that's a lot, you should get a medal"

I slapped his arm playfully and kissed him on the cheek, enjoying his sarcastic comment. Looking back, I take in the sight of the interior of his car. The last time I had been in here it was quite messy. Guitar strings and picks were scattered on the floor, he had recent pictures of his wife and mother on the dashboard, and my underwear that I had been wearing that night was placed appropriately on the seat headrest. Now, it was spotless, only a few papers were neatly piled in the backseat. A noble improvement.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asks.
"I don't know, I'll probably get something to eat, go to a bar, get some sleep, you?"
"Play the show, come back, eat, get some deep sleep".

It was a game. A very well played game at that. We both knew very well what was going to end up happening later on tonight. We just toyed with each other's minds like nothing was going to happen, that I wouldn't end up in his hotel bedroom, that my legs wouldn't be spread across the sheets of his warm bed, that only sighs and moans wouldn't be heard in his room late at night.

No matter, we continued to act upon this lie.