Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Entangled Pt. 2–Apology
Note: This story not only contains descriptions of violent lesbian sex, but also addresses such issues as the structural sin: heterosexism, and how it affects a bisexual married woman, and creates an increased possibility for more personal sins between individuals. It also contains a suggestion of sexual punishment, and the possibility of an honest and morally good open relationship. If any of these things offend you please do not read this story.
“You Bitch!” I exclaimed. I wouldn’t normally have called a woman a bitch, but I was so taken aback by her betrayal. “You lied to me,” I accused, not really looking at her as we both struggled to find our cloths. I felt like crying but I knew I couldn’t let her husband know: I stilled loved her.
“Please try to understand–“
“Oh Fuck you Lucia.” I lifted my shirt over my head while she finished with her bra. As her husband called out to her from what I judged was ten feet or so away I whispered a crisp “I never want to see you again.”
“Don’t say that, please,” she plead at the same decimal, a trace of pain in her voice.
“Honey I–oh *Sarah*, hi.” It’s almost a question. Like: “What the hell are you doing here? What the hell are you doing sitting on my bed next to my wife?” I could hardly speak to him.
“Hi John,” I kept my head down.
“Are you two OK? You look like you’ve been crying.” John had entered the room just as Lucia finished with the last button on her blouse.
“We watched a sad movie,” I answered without thinking.
“It was very sad,” Lucia added, more to me than him.
“I should be getting home.”
“Oh you’re leaving? Let me walk you to the door,” she half pleaded.
“No that’s ok. Stay here and catch up with your husband.”
I walked as quickly as I could without arousing suspicion, but she caught up with me and stopped me from opening the door.
“You just like to have fun while you’re husband’s out? On to the next one now?” I whispered rapidly.
“That’s not it at all. You mean so much to me–,” she met my pace.
“That’s why you lied to me?”
“I didn’t think you would…I can’t explain right now. Just please don’t say you’ll never see me again. I couldn’t bare it, and I will make it up to you.”
“And how are you going to make it up to him?” I asked. She stood there speechless, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Please get out of my way.” She hesitated for a moment, then moved aside.
“Fuck,” I said, turning back as she stood in the doorway, “I love you so much…and I mean nothing more to you than a sideways fuck.”
She choked back her words, that moan of pain covering them. I turned around to walk away, but I didn’t hear the door shut.
I made it back to my car, walking as fast as possible without running, then as I shut the door I put my head down on the steering wheel to cry. Heavy sobs kept coming. I couldn’t believe I had just given myself to her so completely, when I had held back for so long, and then she had stripped it of all it’s meaning, all it’s truth and beauty.
I knew what I meant to her now. She lied to herself that it meant something so she wouldn’t feel so guilty about having meaningless sex outside of her marriage. She would have to find that satisfaction amsterdam shemale with someone else: I couldn’t love her that much and know how little it meant to her. She would destroy me that way.
Lucia’s messages on my machine:
“Sarah…I feel so bad about lying to you: hurting you so much. Seeing what I did to you as you walked out my door…it broke my heart, Sarah. It tore me apart. I would give anything to go back there and not lie to you, even if that meant we couldn’t have made love. And you don’t know how hard that is to say: how hard it would be to trade what we had that afternoon for anything…Please call me back.”
Three days later:
“Sarah, I want you to understand something. The way I was with you…I’m never like that. I never felt so open, I’m usually more reserved. It was just you. You make me feel so good, like I deserve pleasure. I just…I need you to know that.
Two days later:
“I told John what happened between us. I told him everything, including how I lied to you. He’s not sure what he’s going to do. I hurt everyone. I was so selfish. And now I’ll lose both of you,” she sobbed. “I understand why you can’t get over this. I’ll be waiting if you decide you’ll give me another chance…I told John I won’t give you up if you can ever forgive me.”
And a few days later:
“Sarah? It’s John. We need to talk. You owe me that. Saturday at noon, meet me at the pier…please.”
My first impulse was “no.” Why should I meet him? What did he think I owed him? I hadn’t known: not that I could have stopped myself if I had. Maybe I did owe him. I forced myself to go on Saturday, though my nerves were making me nauseous. I knew what we did had hurt him, though I could not have known that it would and I didn’t know how to help him now. I figured I could at least listen to what he had to say.
I saw him looking out over the lake, looking dismal and tired. I moved to stand beside him, looking over the lake as well, but I didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything for a long moment either.
When he did speak I felt it was forced. “My wife says she told you I knew she planned to…and I had said it was ok?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know John, I swear.”
“Still, you do understand about marriage, right?”
“You could have had an open marriage.”
“A lot of people don’t think so.”
“I’m not one of them.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“You’re right.” He turned away. “I’m just…I’m having a hard time with this. She never…never said she wanted anyone else before. I didn’t even know she was–“
“If you’re asking me to leave your wife alone, I was planning on it anyway. She lied to both of us, but you are married and you need to work this out.”
“No. I don’t want you to do that. You make her happy. She–“
“You can make her happy if she can forget me. And I can make her forget me by getting out of her life.”
“Don’t Sarah. Lucia loves you. You can’t make that just go away.”
“Besides,” he added, after a long pause, “I want her to be happy.”
“And what about your happiness?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! John was giving me everything I wanted, and I wasn’t sure if accepting it might kill him.
He was rotterdam shemale silently crying, though he tried to hide it, I saw him wipe the tears away, trying to hide his face from me.
“Oh Christ John. I can’t do this. I can’t ruin your marriage. I can’t come into your life and tear you away from the woman you thought you’d be with for the rest of your life. I’ll tell her to stop calling me, that I don’t care about her at all. That I’ve met someone el–“
“No! My wife loves you, Sarah. I want you to forgive her. I asked you here because I want you to be with her.”
John no longer tried to hide his tears from me. I was astonished how selfless he was for his wife. He must love her more than I ever could love, and I knew it was not right for her to divide her love between us: he deserved all of it. “What about you?”
“I’ll still…just when I’m gone. She says she loves me too. I don’t understand how she can love us both but…I guess I have to accept that, because I love her so much…”
“So, you’re asking me to be Lucia’s Mistress?”
“Yes. That and her friend. Come back to the house with me and forgive her. She’s just so in love with you.”
“If that is really what you want, John. But tell me one more time that you want me to make love to your wife, who loves me, and whom I love, and be her friend, when you thought it would just be the two of you for the rest of your lives.”
And there I had given that self-sacrificing man something he had to think about. But dammit, he knew the reality that had shattered all fantasy, and he wanted her to be happy even as that happiness tore at his life. And so, he must have found a way to tell himself it would all work out, and he would be able to accept it, to deal with it, because he still answered in the affirmative, and we walked back to the house together in silence.
She was in the study, working, and he went to get her. I looked around the warm living-room, the couch where everything changed. And I wasn’t sure how it would continue to change, or if I didn’t just want it all to stop spinning.
She stood in the doorway, looking at me, tears in her eyes and words forced back in her mouth. I didn’t expect that I would cry too: having tried so hard to let her go. And I wanted to forgive her so much, and to tell her it was all alright, though not really and not ever again, because everything would be so confused and jagged from now on.
“I love you.” I said, and suddenly realized how much I could hurt John by telling Lucia this. Luckily he had left already. “I am extremely hurt that you lied to me. And I don’t think that highly of how you treated John.” She waited and I continued. “Don’t think I forgive you. I don’t yet. I love you but it will take a long time before I trust you again.” Still she said nothing.
“Still, I understand that you didn’t have many options, that you never had as many options as I do. And I know that you love me, even though you lied to get me to make love to you.
John and I talked. It is really hard for him, but he wants me to stay because you love me. So I will give you another chance. I will give this a try, but we need to build trust again. And I want to find a way for us both to make it right with John. OK?”
“Yes,” her tears spilled from blog shemale her eyes, “I am so sorry for what I’ve done to you, Sarah.” I came over to her, took her in my arms.
“I know you are,” I said, “I can’t stay away from you. Lucia, you really spoiled me for anyone else. And you’ve got me. I’m so completely yours.”
This time was awkward and bittersweet.
She was not up to taking the reins right now. I had to began, and I wasn’t exactly upset about that. I became instantly aggressive, flicking my tongue over her nipples and then taking them in my mouth to bite just a little, then a little harder. She moaned in approval, and I continued to kiss her while I gently caressed the inside of her vagina with two of my fingers, just making love to her as gently as I could, though I didn’t feel like being gentle.
There was still so much shattered between us, and she was meek and seemed to feel undeserving, so stopped herself from having or showing too much pleasure. I ignored it and tried still to please her, but she didn’t seem to want it, not really. And with me she was too desperate to pleasure me, so I felt like I had to make myself perform by cumming for her, and I couldn’t just appreciate it either.
So I finally told her I was too mad at her, that I sort of wanted to hurt her. And she said in that meek voice, shrinking back, “alright” to a little pain. And I began to bite her neck a little, testing, just like before only now with this added significance. She moaned and urged me on, “harder,” and I did just as she said. At first her instructions were denoted with lust, but then they began to change and I could hear the guilt and something else: a sort of desperation for a little punishment. “Bite me harder, scratch me, please, harder, deeper, please…”
So I gave her what she asked for, daring a little more roughness, a little harder, a little deeper. She asked for more and more fingers to fuck her cunt, and never for my mouth to caress her. I indulged her and kept adding, fucking her hard like she asked for, as she gasped with the pain of having my fingers taken completely out of her dripping cunt and slammed back in. She began to cry, and I wasn’t sure but she said keep going, maybe she was working through the guilt a little. So I didn’t want to deny her.
“Do you deserve to be punished?” I asked in between thrusts. She must feel that’s what this is, as I did.
“Why do you think you deserve to be punished?”
She groaned, letting me know how hard it was for her to answer that question.
“Because I lied to you and John and made it hard for both of you to trust me.”
“And how do you deserve to be punished for this?” I maintained a no-nonsense tone; let her know I was serious.
“I deserve…to be punished severely for lying to you and John and hurting you.”
She came gasping hard but I could tell it was affected by her guilt, so it could have been better and it will be later but for now we needed to talk.
I asked her why she was crying. And she said, “because I’m so ashamed.”
“You should be,” I told her, “but you should be loved too. You should be fulfilled too.”
I took her in my arms, kissing her and comforting her. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you,” I told her. I held her and kissed her over and over again as she sobbed and calmed down.
“I think John will forgive you too.”
“Thank you,” she finally said.
I held her and she me, and we thought about how to make it right for John.
To be continued.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32