Fiancee's Confessions: Move-In Day (A Hotwife Fantasy)
Page 5
Jeff stayed buried inside me for a few moments after I felt his cock stop twitching. He pulled out and slammed home inside me a few more times for good measure, milking every last bit of cum out of his cock, and I was more than willing to take it.
I collapsed back on my bad as he pulled out and stood. As he looked down and smiled at me. I imagined I must be a sight lying back on the bed completely naked and still sweaty from the combination of our run and our fucking. I could feel his cum dribbling out of me. Another man’s cum was leaking out of my pussy!
“Fuck that was amazing!” I said.
“You’re telling me,” he said. “Now how about that shower?”
I grinned. I’d like to tell you I told him this was a one-time thing. That it was a mistake. I’d like to say that in that moment I took the opportunity to finally exhibit some faithfulness to Matt. Only I wouldn’t exactly be writing this story if that was the case, would I?
No, I got up and I followed him into the shower.
7: Confessions
Later that morning after Jeff had left, after we’d gotten good and clean in more ways than one, I sat down at my computer. I was still shaking as I thought of what had happened. Not because I was feeling guilty, but more because the whole morning, this whole week, had been so intense. So amazing. So life changing.
I realized this was a feeling I didn’t want missing from my life, and yet I couldn’t reconcile that with the fact that I was still so very much in love with Matt. In love with my fiancé who was at home waiting for me.
I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to process this strange mix of feelings, and so instead I started writing the first confession you just read. Yes, that’s right. The first confession. There are so many more from that summer. More that I intend to get out there at Matt’s encouragement.
Because he eventually got to read these confessions, and the way he reacted was far more surprising than anything that happened with Jeff.
But I’m getting ahead of myself again. That’s a story for another confession.
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