Confessions

Confession # 1

His amazing tounge inside me, lapping violently at the moisture between my legs. arching up to meet his mouth, wracked with waves of orgasm. When I kiss him I taste myself. When I take his flesh between my teeth I taste the salty tang of sweat mixed with sweetness. I can taste the love, smell the sex in the air. All of a sudden, pleasure to pain, love to sorrow and guilt. Draw my legs in, adjust my skirt. Cry. "Too much, too soon," isn't that the saying? Perhaps "too little, too late," fares better. I didn't stop it. I wanted it, enjoyed it. I don't regret it. And yet, I cry.

Confession # 2

Over too soon. Before I could enjoy it, before I could even feel it really. One good thrust with a thick shaft. Another thrust, and "I'm about to come!" he cries. So short. I want it to be longer! I get no pleasure from this. He's ashamed, and I take pity. I love him anyway of course, but that doesn't make it better...

Confession # 3

Looking down, riding him hard, fast. Looking over, seeing her kiss him, her tounge and his mingle, his hips pump pleasure into mine. I close my eyes and see my boyfriend, but I look down and see a different face, a different body. Spread my legs wider, bear down harder. It's been nearly an hour, and I just now come. He then turns all his attention to her and I leave the room. Good sex with a shared man. A shared man who isn't even my man. So what if I cheat on my man? He cheats me out of a good time!

Confession # 4

Smiling smugly at my new singularity, I place my hands on the wall, bend over, and spread my legs. He enters me from behind, wraps an arm around my waist. I revel in the pleasure I feel. Fucked hard and fast, his fingers stroke my sensitive flesh, his teeth rake over my lips. She's jealous, but in this moment he is not a shared man. He's my prize. All mine.