My lips are the color of blood and sin. Smeared slightly from the kiss I shared with him in the elevator. He’s nobody special. I don’t even know his name. He just knows how to hold a gaze without asking too many questions. A perfect candidate for one last tryst.
This certainly isn’t about love or even attraction. I haven’t loved any of them. Not even the ones that I’ve kept around long-term. Most of them are just a boyfriend for a week. Love is the steady beat of my husband Daniel’s heart. The house we made a home together. The life we share. The safety of a man who still makes me coffee after everything. Everything I’ve put him through over the years. The broken promises I make and continue to break. Along with his heart. Knowing all along, I’ll wake up desiring one last tryst.
No more secrets. No more lies. That’s what Daniel and I have agreed too. Moving forward together in this marriage honestly. Walking away from the version of me that hurts us both. We’ve agreed to try counseling. To take time together. He is moving out of the guest room soon, and we will once again share a bed. We’ve been making dinner together, drinking wine and even laughing more. But on some small level, I have to get it out of me. One more escape. One last tryst with a strangers cock deep inside me.
But not tonight. I keep telling myself this is closure. A funeral for the nymphomaniac version of me. Upstairs, room 1612 waited. At the hotel bar, so did he. Broad shoulders, rough hands and hungry eyes. I didn’t give him my real name. This isn`t about names, this is about goodbyes and one last tryst.
” I shouldn’t be here” I murmured against this sexy stranger’s neck, as my hands are already under his shirt. My nails in his back as his tongue slips deep into my greedy mouth. Clothes coming off in a fevered silence. Suddenly, he is devouring my hot wet pussy. My breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. I’m on my knees, ass up face down. Waiting for his smooth long cock to plunge deep inside me. That familiar ache when it’s all the way in and his balls are slapping against my pussy with each thrust.
Moments later, the euphoria is already fading. There is no small talk. No kiss goodbye. No second look. There is no pretending this was anything but what it was. One last tryst, that`s it. Outside, the air is thick and still. I stood on the sidewalk for a full two minutes before calling the car. It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when I slipped through my front door. Heels in hand, hair tussled, mascara smudged. Daniel was awake. Sitting at the kitchen table in stillness. Without words, there was a mutual understanding about my one last tryst. Unless of course… next time my husband wants to watch!
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