(47F) I have a “trophy necklace” for all the husbands I’ve fucked. Sorry, not sorry

When I was just out of high school, I babysat for a man and a woman who lived three houses down from me. The woman had always been a total bitch to me, so…I fucked her husband.

It wasn’t hard. He was a nerdy guy — a lawyer who made the mistake of marrying the first gold-digging bitch who blew him on the first date. He was starved for all the pussy he SHOULD have gotten when he was still single, and I was smart enough to use that to my advantage.

One trip under my skirt and it was like he became my errand boy, buying me and my friends alcohol, paying a bill for me occasionally and even LITERALLY running errands for me like making a quick trip to McDonald’s — just because I told him to.

My friend Sherri joked that I was so proud of bedding him that I should buy a fake wedding ring and put on a necklace as kind of a trophy. I did it. Then when I fucked a married cop to get out of a speeding ticket a few months later, I upped it to two trophies.

Now it’s quite the collection.

There’s one for the 60-year-old mayor of our neighboring town who probably would have given me the key to the city the first time we did anal. There’s one for the husband of the woman who harassed the hell out of my daughter the whole time she was on the cheer squad. I should really put two on for him, considering I fucked her oldest stepson too.

There’s one for my college professor who often ate lunch on the campus lawn with his wife using strong aftershave to keep her from smelling my juices on his lips. One for my current boss, whose wife is a twice-a-month lunch date for me but is too fucking clueless to even ask what the necklace represents.

Oh, I know! I’m terrible!

But it’s become quite the piece of costume jewelry — and one that’s only gonna get bigger and more jingly.