What am I getting myself into?
Damn, I’m easy.
December 16th, 2016
Here we go again. Jameson goes quiet. I don’t even know why. And why do I even care or bother? I told him I was done but, yet, he finds a way to come back into my life and leaves me hanging. He is like crack. I just can’t stop once I have gotten a taste. I crave him, yet I’m in detox. And this is no joke. I want to move on, but he haunts me. I just need to learn how to deal with it. Unfortunately, there will always be potential for run-ins. Tonight being one of them.
My lovely trainer decided to host a Christmas party. I’m half tempted not to go. There is a huge chance of running into Jameson. It has been extremely hard to avoid him because he brings out everything I wish Patrick would bring out of me. When I told him I was done, I was done but there is something tugging inside me, pulling me toward him. Thinking of him, I have been so on edge, ready to fall. I have tried to rekindle more with my husband, but work has him extremely exhausted. I have resulted in using my silver bullet more and more, hoping for a release I so desperately need. But it isn’t cutting it. Sadly, I try to think of my husband when I use my bullet, and nothing happens. But when I think of Jameson fucking me, I come instantly. What is wrong with me?
I walked up to Ryan’s house, my fitness trainer. Claire is meeting me here. If she wasn’t going, I wouldn’t have bothered to show up. His house wasn’t anything special. Typical bachelor pad – white walls with sports memorabilia, furniture that does not match and a 60-inch flat screen television. I had to shake my head because a house party like this has not been my scene since I was in college. I saw Claire and she was standing next to another girl from the gym. I walked over to her and said, “Hi!”
She smiled, “Hey, girl. What is up?”
“Nothing really. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here tonight.”
“Are you for real? You are husband and kid free tonight. We are partying it up.”
I laughed, “Only you. Maybe we can hit up a bar after this.”
She took a drink of her beer. “That sounds like a good plan.” She pointed her beer toward a cooler. “Okay, momma, go get yourself a beer.”
I smiled at her and walked to the cooler. I grabbed myself a Michelob Ultra. I twist the cap off the bottle. Damn, I wish I brought a koozie. The bottle was ice cold. I overheard commotion going on in the back room. I looked to see what was going on.
And there he was. My addiction.
Jameson.
He was taking a shot with some of the other guys from the gym. They were being loud and cheering. I licked my lips. His white Henley long-sleeve shirt hugged every bulge of his muscles. I had to take a deep breath because just the sight of him caused dirty thoughts to run through my brain. Damn him. Why does he have to look so yummy? He is trouble. Remember, Kendra, he hasn’t bothered to contact you since the bar. Clearly, game was not on. Just walk away and drink your beer.
Before I walked away, he looked from the crowd of guys and spotted me. He smirked and winked at me. God, he knows he is in my head. I need to be strong with this one. I need to stop making it so damn easy for him. He is clearly using me as he pleases. I walked away and back to my friend.
***
Several drinks and a few shots later, going to the bar was definitely out of the question. There is a huge possibility that I am going to have to get an Uber home. Patrick is going to be pissed that I got too drunk to drive home. Oh well, I’m having fun with my friends from the gym.
But with drinking as much as I have been, I had the urge to use the restroom. I broke the damn seal a while go. I stumbled toward the bathroom. There was no one in there. Thank God; I hate waiting. I walk into the restroom and do my thing.
Before leaving the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My make-up was still on point. The black eyeliner caused my blues to pop. My top emphasized my girls in a good way. With all the time I spend at the gym, my curves were banging. I looked hot. Why doesn’t my husband want this? Sadness and feeling incomplete starts to ruin my buzz. I need another shot. I open the door to the bathroom and to my surprise, Jameson is standing there looking right at me.
He acknowledged me, “It is about time I get you alone.”
Here we go. I answered, “Alone, really? Not that easy.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Whatever, Jameson.” I tried to push past him, but his steal body blocked my way. He grabbed and forced me back into the restroom. I argued, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting what I want.”
“You’ve been ignoring me. What makes you think you are getting this?” I try to squirm out of his hold but damn him for being too strong.
“Just waiting for the perfect moment to fuck you.”
Wait. What?
He must have read my mind because he stated, “I’m going to give you what you want.”
“And what is it that I want then?”
“My cock shoved so deep in you, you will come instantly.”
“Wow, awfully confident, aren’t we?”
“Damn straight. Kendra, you are mine.”
The door slammed shut and click goes the lock. Before I could think about what was going to happen, his lips slammed against mine.
Finally, I get to taste him.
I lost it. I jumped on him and wrapped my legs around him, squeezing him tight. He embraced me and set me on the counter. I wanted him. He wanted me. I removed my lips from his and grabbed hold of his shirt and tore it off him, exposing his god-like body. I dreamt of this body. But in person, it was so much better. I ran my hand across his chest, feeling very little stubble but a whole lot of man. I could cream myself just looking at his body. I’m going to let him fuck me.
He groaned, “Strip for me.”
The feisty girl in me snickered, “If you want this, you take it off.”
“You don’t want that.”
“Jameson, why?”
He leaned in and whispered, “Because if I take it off, you will have nothing to wear later.”
My girly parts tickle in anticipation. I obliged and took of my top, bra, jeans, and everything else. I sat on the cold counter as he examined me. Jameson unhooked his belt buckle, unzipped his pants and they dropped to the floor. His fully erect cock was trying its hardest to escape his boxers. I was no longer cold sitting on the counter.
I bite down on my lip. “Are you going to let him lose?”
He shook his head at me. “Not yet. Show me how bad you want me?”
“Are you serious?”
“Damn serious. Finger yourself. I want to watch.”
Oh my God. Just hearing him say that I about lost it.
“Fine.” I leaned back, pressing my back against the mirror, feeling the faucet dig into my back. I shut my eyes and stick a finger in my eagerly and overly wet pussy.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” his voice stern as he demanded my attention.
And that is exactly what I did. I continued to fiddle with myself as I watch him pick up his jeans, grab a condom from the pockets and open the foil. He drops his boxers to the floor and rolled the condom on his cock.
He crept toward me, as I moaned. He demands, “Say my name as you please yourself.”
I moaned, “Jameson.”
Then one of his fingers slid into my sex, causing my eyes to bug out of my head. “Yeah, that’s right. Nice and wet for me. Tell me you want me.”
I started to spiral uncontrollably and whimpered, “Please, fuck me, Jameson. I need you in me.”
“That’s my girl.” He removed our fingers from my sex.
I tried to gasp for air, but I was on the brink of losing myself. He slams into me and I explode. “Oh.my.God.”
“That’s right. Come for me.”
His hip bone pushed harder against mine. He squeezed my hips and pulverized deep into my womanhood. I continued to come all over him. This is what I n
eed.
He moaned, “We’re not done yet.”
I cried, “Okay.”
“You will come again for me. You’re so fucking tight and wet.”
Just him saying that, adrenalizes me. My hips start to fight back against his.
He groaned more. “That’s right, baby. Fuck me back. How bad do you want this cock?”
I feel so damn dirty, but I am loving every minute of him fucking my brains out. This is better than any dream I have had of him. I whimpered again, “Just don’t stop.”
He demanded, “I asked you a question. How bad do you want this cock?”
I started to unleash. His deep, dominant voice demanding me would cause any girl to come on command. I wept, “I want it all the time.”
“Say it again.”
I came, “I want.it.all.the.time. I.want.you.”
He hammered himself harder into me, practically shoving the faucet deeper into my back. I dug my nails into his firm squatter’s ass. Bam. Bam. Jameson moans, “Fuuucckk.”
He continued to slowly pump his hips some more. I fell limp on him. I have never in my life came twice like this. He was out of this world.
“My dirty little MILF,” he joked as he pulled his massive cock out of me.
I couldn’t respond. My head was still in the clouds and I really didn’t want to fall from those clouds.
Jameson stepped back from me and started to dress himself. In my dazed and confused haze, I sat back and watched him cover his body with his clothes. I wanted him again and again. He just fed my addiction. He is my drug.
Then it hits me, we crossed the forbidden line. I cheated on my husband.
December 17th. 2016
Here is where the guilt kicks in. After the party, I took an Uber home. I probably could have driven myself home, but I couldn’t chance it. The realization that I cheated on my husband with Jameson sobered me up quickly. I just can’t believe it happened. Let alone in a bathroom at a party. Yes, I have been cheating this entire time. But once you have crossed the line of having sex, incredible sex at that, it is the ultimate crime in marriage. Where is my scarlet letter?
I love my husband. I could never imagine my life without him. There is no excuse for this bad behavior. I acted on impulse with Jameson. I was lonely and felt incomplete. I was weak to Jameson. But this still does not give me the right to cheat on my husband. He is a good man and does not deserve this.
I walked into our bedroom. Patrick is sleeping soundly on his side of our king-sized bed. I stripped out of my clothes. I smelled my clothes. Jameson’s scent of sweat-musk mix was present. I got dressed and ran down the hallway to throw my adulteress clothes in the laundry. I needed to clean them. I probably should just throw them away instead. These clothes will always be a remembrance of the day I cheated on my husband. My eyes began to water. I threw my whorish clothes in the wash, hoping to wash away what I have done.
I headed back to our room. Patrick was curled up with my pillow now. He looked so innocent at this very moment. The moonlight shined on his face. He has no idea that his wife of ten years, fucked another man, a younger man. I crawled into bed and curled up next to him. Without any hesitation, he grabbed me and pulled me close. Tears started to flood my eyes. He woke up and asked, “Babe, you okay?”
I wiped my eyes and answered, “Yeah. Just happy to be here with my husband. I love you.”
“You know I love you.” He kissed my forehead. “Babe, I got you. Get some sleep.”
December 30th, 2016
Well, after that wham bam thank you, ma’am in the bathroom, I have not seen or heard from Jameson in weeks. I am getting sick and tired of his disappearing act. We talk for two weeks straight and then radio silence for two more. I am starting to get whiplash. He drives me insane. Yet, boy can turn on the faucet downstairs quick.
I keep replaying our fuck session in my head over and over. He is my drug of choice and he KNOWS it. One day, I just want to wipe that permanent smirk off his gorgeous face. So, here it is, two weeks later, and just like clock-work, I get a “Hi” text message. He stated that he wanted to meet up at the gym. Keeping up with the trend of making it easy for him, I happily oblige.
We have an intense workout session. Exercising with Jameson really pushes me to outside of my boundaries. It is more than likely my competitive nature kicking in. Every workout is a good workout but, with him, I feel a sense of accomplishment.
Jameson was wiping himself down after our boot camp class. He looked at me and asked, “Hey. You want to meet for coffee?”
I questioned, “This late? Coffee?”
“Yeah. Really, I just want to go somewhere and talk.”
“Okay. But first, I need to shower.”
“Me too. In thirty minutes, meet up in front of the gym.”
“That works.”
“See you in a bit.” He walked off to the men’s changing room. I followed suit to the ladies’ room. When I got into the locker room, I noticed it was empty. Perfect. I stripped down naked and walked my bare body to the shower, grabbing a towel on the way.
As I got situated in the shower, I started to let the water pour down on me. That was when I felt hands caress my body. I jumped and squealed. Trying my best not to slip on the tile,
I turned around and was instantly turned on. In front of me was a very naked Jameson with a big old smirk on his face. Oh my God, he was stunning. And he wasn’t the only one happy to see me. His cock was ready to dance.
He grinned, “I’m sorry I scared you. But I needed to see you sooner. I can’t get you out of my mind. I need to taste you, fuck you, and fill you up again. I crave you.”
Trying my damnedest not to be easy, I replied, “Jameson, what makes you think I will let you have me again?”
“Well, Kendra, I can practically smell your arousal.” He looked down at my breasts. “And your nipples are rock hard.”
I quickly covered my chest, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was right. However, he was dead set on proving me wrong. He batted my hands away, pushed me up against the shower wall and attacked my mouth. Peeling his lips off mine, he ferociously asked, “Are you ready for me, Kendra?”
Fuck, the way he says my name. I nodded in permission.
His mouth worked its way down my neck, causing me to moan in anticipation. He continued to move down to my right breast and wrapped his mouth around my nipple, practically sucking it dry. While his other hand gave my left breast some attention, tweaking it. In one swift movement, he was on his knees and my right leg was on his shoulder. A soothing breeze of air came from his mouth cooling my very hot sex.
Then that man took me downtown to Chinatown. His tongue swirled between my eager folds. Then a finger slip, pushing hard – tag teaming me. This was pure magic in the form of a finger and tongue. Patrick has never eaten me out like this before. It was as if Jameson has been starving himself all day to get a taste of this feast. I was seeing fucking glorious stars and colors. My body started to spaz, my eyes rolled back when a huge gush released from my pussy. I was coming all over Jameson’s face.
With a sense of accomplishment, he got up, licking his lips, and complimented, “Kendra, you taste like sweet nectar. Now come here and taste yourself on my lips.”
I perked up on my toes and kissed his lips, tasting me.
Before I could devour him, he turns me around, pushing my hands against the tile. Then bam, he is inside me. His hands come around to my breasts and he starts to tug on each nipple as he pounds deep into me. The erotic echo of our grunts and moans pinging throughout the shower room made me hornier than ever. He had me caged in. My hot face pressed against the cold tile.
The tingling sensation was coming back. I started to shake. Colors, stars, and stripes were fading my vision. Yep, it was happening again. Round two of coming.
In return, my pussy lips squeezed his dick tight, causing him to groan, “Fuck.” His pumps start to slow down as he grunts
“fuck” some more.
Before I know it, we are on the tile floor with the shower water still streaming on us. Both of us breathing heavy as our airways try to clear from the heat not only caused from the water but from us.
We laid limp and utterly exhausted. I lost track of time. We might have laid on the shower floor with our naked bodies wrapped around each other for five minutes, half hour or even an hour. Who knows.
Jameson slapped my ass and said, “We should probably get ourselves cleaned up.” I got up and continued with my shower. Except this time, someone wanted to be with me. Jameson came over to me and grabbed my soapy loofah from my hands. He presses against my body, causing the suds to fall as he cleans me. It was the most intimate thing he has ever done to me. Not even my husband has done this to me.
OH shit, Patrick! I did it again. What the fuck is wrong with me? I cheated on my husband again. I need an intervention.
January 7th, 2017
We never did meet for coffee last time. I quickly got dressed and told Jameson I needed to get home. He was disappointed in my departure but understood.
I need to come to grips with what I have done. I just can’t stop. After Jameson fucked me in the shower, there was no disappearing act this time. Actually, he is blowing up my text message. I am on cloud nine. He texts me, I smile. We see each other at the gym, the flirting is obvious. I know there has been talk. Well, Claire has told me there is talk. At this moment, I don’t care. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I am fucking happy. It is all because of Jameson. He wants me. I am in deep. So deep, I agree to meet him for dinner tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking when I said yes to dinner.
We had to drive separate. Unlike most first dates, he can’t pick me up from my house. Because I am having a fucking affair. My inner whore who decided she wanted to come out and play is taking over and trying to subside the guilt I feel.
Dear Diary Page 4