A Weekend...

So MarriedGuy is now in fact married. I did my part, participated in their wedding. Managed not to say anything about the frequency of his indiscretions. I was in his hotel room getting ready to go down to the reception. MarriedGuy copped a feel, whispered "one day I'll grow up", kissed me on the neck. I don't think he has any intention of treating married life differently to the last 6 1/2 years of their relationship.

So, Long. Good old Long and I caught up. It was BossMans birthday party. BabyFace, Long and BossMan and I got talking. There were espresso martinis. Many many espresso martinis. And after a hundred espresso martinis, I was licking espresso off two gay guys then Long and BabyFace took me home and we had quite the interesting night. What a night it was too.... spanking, oral, anal...  Those two boys fucked me so hard it was incredible. Those two twisted my body into a thousand different positions. I think my favourite would have to be on my couch though. Long sitting down with BabyFace holding my head down on Longs cock while fucking me hard from behind.

You'd think that'd be enough for one weekend? But no. At the wedding, I was busted naked by a very handsome musician (getting changed into my dress). The best man was following him into the room. I've known the best man for the better part of 10 years. At the reception, the best man and I were sitting at the bridal table. After ensuring his wife and son were a reasonable distance away, he grabbed my hand under the table, pulled it up onto his thigh, leaned in and whispered "The musician looked away, I didn't. Every inch of skin under your dress is just about perfect." When it came to good bye hugs, he kissed me, almost on the lips. Just far enough to be socially acceptable, but the hand on my ass told me that there are other things on his mind.

Punk and I have been friends - not sex-friends. Just friends. It's going fine, just pleasant.

As for (s)Ex. Well, someone told him I've been seeing other people last week. This lead to a VERY large scene, with him screaming at yours truly. I responded by telling him he could go fuck himself. Doubt there will be much more in this chapter moving forward. He informed me that if I was "interested" in others that there wasn't space for him in my life. I'd have thought after breaking it off with someone you were free to do as you pleased. Apparently I was mistaken. So silent treatment it is, from him. I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed,

As for me? I'm happy as ever. Still a perve, still loving men as much as ever.

With Love (and thoughts of sex)

SSB x

BabyFace

I hurt someone a long time ago. I was inconsiderate. I was mean.

I expressed contrition.

Then I hurt him again.

I expressed contrition. I apologised, not just to him, but to our friends.

Then I hurt him again.

And on it went. Over and over. Seven or eight months.

I was mean.

I could make so many excuses for my inexcusable behaviour. There are many reasons. I shan't try to justify it today though.

I was 22, he was just a baby. 19. I got drunk and kissed him one night. We ended up in bed together. I remember this moment vividly.

He was on top of me, we were naked. He kissed me and I held his face, stroked his cheek with one hand. I said these words:

"No matter what happens, I'll never love you."

Then he pushed his hard cock inside me for the first time.

That time ended with me on my stomach, wrists pinned against the small of my back, his other hand around my neck, forcing my face into my bed. I think he spat on my cheek. He fucked me harder and harder. The sunlight streaming in my bedroom window. We'd fucked for hours.

We bought take away, sitting on the floor of my apartment in our underwear and t shirts, talking. We hung out. We worked together. We flirted. I teased him. I played quite the coquette. 

He got sick of it one night at work, slammed my chest against the counter. He spanked my ass. Over and over. 

We played and played and played.

We'd kiss at work when no one was watching. We'd go clubbing and he'd stand next to me and stroke my ass through my dress, pulling my panties tight around my pussy. We'd sit next to each other at dinners. Then we'd sneak home together... and he'd fuck me hard. 

I didn't love him. He loved me though. And I knew it. I just didn't care.

At my birthday party, it all finally came to a head. I was kissing Bee (his best friend). I kissed another guy.

He finally cracked under the stress. He walked out. He sent me a message. Telling me we couldn't be friends any more. Telling me he couldn't stand to see me the way he had. That me not caring was too hard. He changed work shifts to get away from me. He stopped visiting during my shifts. He vanished. He deleted me off Facebook. Gone. 

Fifteen months of total silence. Not a whisper. After three years of speaking virtually every day. Silence. 

The silence was deafening at first. Something would happen and I'd think of him. I'd pull out my phone... only to realise I'd deleted his phone number.

Time went on. I'd hear the occasional whisper. Our friends to this day call him "Your Boy" to me. He was my boy. BossMan would lecture me. Telling me over and over to call him and apologise. I wouldn't do it though. I didn't want to make him hurt more. 

And so on it went.

Then out of the blue, he sent me an email about tax. Tax. Of all fucking things. Tax. I replied with a polite thank you, and an inquiry as to how he was.

The conversation grew. 

Best of all, I apologised. He accepted it too.

I nearly cried reading the words we shared. Not something I do often. But I'm filled with this sensation, maybe I'm softening. Maybe I'm starting to care. Regardless, I like it.

Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. - Mark Twain

Bee

There was a girl. Once upon a time. She was a very good friend of mine.


We met while I worked with her best friend.


Over time him and I became very close. Sleeping together a few times. Him and I were incompatible. I was in my 23 and sleeping with a teenager. Granted he was 18, but I still felt a little... strange. Younger man and all.


He eventually fell in love, I invariably didn't. He sent his best friend, Bee, to do recon. Our group of friends, her now included, ended up drinking together, partying together, her working her way through my defences at his request, to seek information about why I didn't feel the same.


Eventually I came to trust her and I laid it out for her. He was trying to make me be his mother, and I wasn't ready for a teenage child.


She explained this to him, over and over and over. Painfully. Breaking his heart repeatedly. I broke it over and over. The kid was a masochist. He kept coming back, and I'd serve him up a fresh plate of heart ache. 


She got angry with him, resenting him putting himself in the position to have his heart broken. She ended up bonding with me over our mutual dislike of kicking this kid when he was down.


Our bond over hurting him was strangely compelling. She took to spending girls nights at my house, watching action movies, playing guitar hero. We spent Friday through Sunday together. Sometimes more. 


She's taller than me. I'd guess 168 cm tall. Average build, but muscular. Large firm breasts, light brown hair, green eyes. Her eyes are a little more hazel than mine.


She was sleeping with a guy. An engaged guy with a pregnant fiance. They'd been sneaking around for sometime. Eventually she broke it off with him. I picked up the pieces of her broken heart, lying naked in my backyard, bathing in the sunshine of late spring. Months went by. Three days a week, we'd sunbathe and talk.


With how close we'd become, and the public knowledge that we were both bisexual, rumours started. Whispers. People would stare and wonder. 


She was an exhibitionist. She revelled in the attention. She'd walk up behind me in front of our mutual friends and slip her hands around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. Brushing my hair off my cheek. She loved to tease them. Torture them. 


One night, we'd been out partying. It had been a long night. Her, my boss and I wound up catching a taxi to my place for a nightcap. Nothing unusual, really. 


He made a joke about us being sexy lesbians. She kissed me, just to tease him. He was in a committed relationship. He wouldn't touch us. She was just being a tease. 


"You're bad" he remarked. 
"Yes, she is" Bee agreed.


She pushed me back in a chair opposite him, getting down on all fours. Looking over her shoulder, ass exposed a little because of her short dress.


"Should I lick her?" she asked. "Maybe I should punish her for being naughty with my tongue."


He froze. Stunned. I looked at her eyes wide. She winked. I wasn't sure if she was serious or playing. Either way, I was wet. 


She licked my lace panties with her tongue. I shivered slightly. 


"Look him in the eye" she whispered in a firm voice. Barely audible, but the directness was unmistakeable.


I obeyed instantly.


I looked him dead in the eye, and she immediately reached inside my lace panties, pushing two fingers straight inside me and as she got all the way in, she applied pressure to my clit with her thumb.


I shook immediately. The eye contact between BossMan and I wasn't breaking. She licked my clit softly, flicking it. I came in seconds. 


He sat there. Staring at us. 


That's how it all started.


She took to teasing me in public. Spanking me sometimes, kissing my neck, nibbling my ears, stroking the back my thighs under a skirt.


She pushed me into the store room at work. One night she even kissed me in front of her heartbroken best friend, just because she could. She wasn't always nice, but she was always a tease.


We ended up close. Very close. A perfect understanding. At night, sometimes we'd watch a movie, sometimes we'd fuck. But every day, we'd end up naked in my yard, talking together, lying in the sun. 


Months went past. The lazy spring weather of October turned to a chilly Autumn in April. The sunshine days were fewer.


My birthday came. We kissed, we partied. She pinned my wrists against a wall in a pub and let a very beautiful lesbian kiss me, tease me. Bee knew how to drag me outside my comfort zone. Make me feel beautiful and dirty in the same heartbeat.


We spent the night apart. Her best friend having a final breakdown at seeing us together. He's never spoken to me since.


During the cooler months of that Autumn, she fell in love. She fell in love with a guy who controlled her. So she lied, manipulated, cheated. I helped her. I gave her alibis, I manipulated his trust. Even though he considered me a friend.


Her and I stopped sleeping together, we just kept teasing guys occasionally. Just for fun. I was happy to help her get her exhibitionist fix.


One day he caught on. He realised I knew more than I'd let on.


He caught me by the wrist, put me on the spot and asked me a question I couldn't cover. The time it took me to think of a good answer was too long, the lie obvious. 


Caught in the depths of her bad lies, tangled in more than a year of deceit. I let it slip. I told him some of the truths. Since the day I told him a whisper, she's not said a word.


I don't miss her for the sex as much as I miss her for the companionship. For the fun. For her big hazel-green eyes and beautiful smile. 


Don't you wish sometimes that you could just fix it? Even when you can't.