Dear Memory Ch. 1

The night passed in a pleasant blur of companionable silence, deep conversations and glorious, guilt free, pleasurable sex. I sucked on your cock and you ate my pussy. You lay on me as I wrapped my legs around your waist, your hardness driving me crazy as you fucked me slowly, withdrawing almost entirely from my honeyed hole, then that gut churning slide back into me, until you pressed my cervix with your thick blunt tip… again and again and again.

I rode you like a cowgirl in a cheap western. Working my pussy up and down the impaling thickness until I thought my head would explode with an overload of pleasure. You rolled me over and fucked me face down on the bed. Thrusting into my upraised ass, grunting in my ear. You fucked my breasts, sliding in the lubrication of spit and pussy juice as I held my tits together to form a channel, licking and sucking your glans each time you came into reach. You had only cum that once, in the ally, and I was starting to worry. “I want you to cum.. inside me.” You smiled your lopsided smile and I knew what you were going to say even before I heard the words,

“You, we, can’t take that risk.” You paused in true dramatic style, “There is an other way... that would be safe.” I could not help myself and played along. “I don’t know… wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Not if you relax.. got any Vaseline?” you grinned.

That stumped me, and I didn’t know what to say. Then your grin became wider, and you fished in the pile of your clothes by the bed. “I think some KY would do the trick.” And you held up the tube.

Bastard.

It didn’t hurt this time.. I was more than ready and probably as relaxed as I have ever been in my life – take a note - three hours of serious fucking can do that to you. The difference this time was that I insisted on being propped up on elbows and pillows and by straining my neck, I watched you force your pale, greased thickness into the small, dark knot of my anus. Oh god! There really are no words to describe the sensation, the passage of a throbbing cock past the tight, sensitive sphincter, filling me… I jammed my fingers deep into my vagina to feel you once again. For only the second time in my life, I felt that indescribable sensation of anal excitement.. and urged you on with loud, dirty, filthy words “Fuck my asshole. - Fill my ass - Cum in me. - Shove your white cock up my brown ass. - Fuck me. - Bugger my hole!”. I yelled words at you I am ashamed to admit knowing… and had that incredible anal induced orgasm once again. You came this time. I thrilled as your face contorted, lost its composure… you groaned like your life was ending and I could feel the semen pass down your thrusting cock to fill my ass. It was a magical as my memories recalled.

We showered again, and you seemed to take special delight in cleansing my abused little opening... not that I was complaining. Clean and dry we crawled once more into the bed and cuddled, petted and eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms. I woke early, still inside your protective embrace… and studied your sleeping face. I cried. I cried for the life that had never been... the life that could never be... I cried because I had never felt so good, and for the fact that I feared I would never feel so good again. I cried because I was lost. I cried because I had never been so happy. I cried for what I had found, and at the same time, for what I had lost. Who ever said we were simple?

I had dried my eyes and composed myself before waking you in a way that I had often imagined, but never attempted. I uncovered your sleeping body and gazed down the your semi-hard cock and its nest of curly hair. I slithered down and took you into my mouth once more and sucked back to full erection. You awoke during the process and began to stroke my hair. Then you rolled me onto my back and spread my willing thighs. You lay on me, slipped into me, and at last... I held you tightly in my arms and thighs as you filled my pussy with your cum. There were tears in my eyes again, but I do not think you noticed. And I would have denied it if you had. We lay together for another hour or so, before using the shower again. It was more subdued this time, the hour of parting weighing down our spirits once again. You started to ask me to stay with you, run away… but I could not listen to that. I hushed you, firmly… and I am sorry for the pain on your face. I was, still am, touched by your desires… and your reluctance to comply with my wishes. Your walked me to the station and I can still see your face as the train pulled away. We should have been in a black and white movie – the kind with a sad ending.

And now. Now I have a husband who thinks I am a whore. A family in turmoil due to his loudly voiced suspicions, pressurising my closest friend to betray my confidences. Why does he suspect me? He suspects me because I could not fit back into the role of a compliant wife... to be used when he desired something to fuck. I made the mistake of trying to express my own burning needs, fires of lust stoked by you. I wanted him to eat me, fuck my ass… He knows… he just can’t prove anything. Rani is my alibi, I spent the evening at her house, and he cannot prove otherwise. But he knows that she is covering up for me… it seems only a matter of time. Dear memory, what have you done to me? What do I do now? What have I done?

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