Showing Confessions

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She shows her boyfriend how she cheated.
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It's not that I'm an evil. I'm not even a bitch. But faced with telling my boyfriend, Kevin, the truth, embracing my dark side was easier. And I think it worked out better in the end. Of course I also think I'm confusing 'better' for 'relief.'

I was pacing our apartment for an hour. Yeah, I was trying to sit on the sofa and watch a movie. I tried not to tap my foot on the floor. I was trying my damndest not to keep opening the refrigerator and stealing another uncooked hot dog. I just couldn't settle my nerves. When my cellular beeped in my pocket I about jumped out of my socks.

It was Kevin.

"Hey, hey. Tiffany my love. I am on my way home. Want anything at the store?"

"I just want you home, babe," I said as naturally as I could. I could hear the betrayal in my tone, though. I prayed that he couldn't, at least not yet. I hoped against hope that he would forgive what I had done to us only a few hours ago.

My heart really kicked into overdrive knowing he was on his way. He'd be here in about ten minutes. My stomach knotted painfully as I rehearsed in my head the words I would use. For the fiftieth time, I talked myself out of grabbing a beer to take the edge off. No. Why should I make it easy on myself? I deserved this horrible feeling.

With what I imagined was five minutes left, I checked myself in the hallway mirror. Somehow my green eyes were not teary or puffy. My shoulder length wavy blonde hair was still damp from the shower I'd recently taken. Once again I vetoed the idea of putting on makeup. Even though I was only wearing denim shorts and a Happy Bunny t-shirt, I made a point to pat down the wrinkles. I took a deep breath and for the first time since the cable guy had left, I began to relax.

My calmer heart beat only lasted about five minutes.

"I'm home, Tiff," Kevin called from the door. I waited in the middle of the living room as he walked down the hall. He greeted me, pecked me on the lips and hugged me. I hugged back, wondering if it seemed a desperate embrace. "Cable guy come?"

"Oh, yeah," I muttered. Fucking double entendres.

Kevin started his normal routine of putting his things away, grabbing a soda, changing shirts and keeping polite 'how was your day' small talk with me. My foot was tapping as I steeled myself for our impending battle. "So, we have super high speed internet now," he queried from the other room.

I felt myself shattering on the inside, my hands now shaking on the outside. This was just another day for Kevin. Maybe I should tell him later. "Yeah. We just have to set up passwords and junk. I planned on leaving that for you."

"That's cool."

"There's something else." Shit. My heart was pounding when I realized I had opened the door to my confession. I couldn't turn back now. Well, I could make up something lame like, "It's going to cost less than we thought." But I think deep down inside I recognized this was my only chance to tell him. So, before he could get his soda, I grabbed his hands and kept him there in the middle of the living room. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes. And I made myself breathe evenly.

"What," he asked, seemingly genuinely clueless that anything was amiss.

Fuck, I forget every word I had imagined telling him. Think, Tiffany. It started out with an "I love you," speech. It segued into a "I never want to hurt you" speech. That was closely followed by something about hoping he was the kind of guy who would forgive mistakes. Because, Dear God, I love you, Kevin. Right, that was how it ended. How did it fucking begin?

"What is it, Tiff," Kevin's voice was edgier now.

At that exact moment, clear as day, I heard my tenth grade English teacher's voice speaking inside my head. "Show, don't tell. Writers don't tell stories. They show them."

Ohhhh, it was a rush as evil, selfish empowerment flooded over my being. This destructive course I now plotted was infinitely better than the train wreck of guilt I was formerly rushing towards.

"Stand right here," my lips curled up in a nasty smile. Kevin obeyed while I turned to tamper with our stereo.

I walked back to stand in the middle of the room with him as AC/DC queued up. I was smiling when I closed my eyes and let my head swivel to Angus's sultry and sexy guitar intro. "You like this song, babe?"

"Um, yeah," he answered at the moment a snare drum announced the beginning of the rhythmic guitar rift that everybody knows. Now my body was getting into it, my hips swaying side to side with a hint of grinding into my four year boyfriend. It was great watching him ogle my tits as they did a dance of their own just for him.

"That's good. Because so did the cable guy."

*She was a fast machine.*

"What the fuck," Kevin started to push me away, but I didn't let him. I grabbed his ass and ground him hard into me.

*She kept her motor clean.*

"I'm the best damn woman that you've .... Ever seen," I told him, licking my lips. Fuck, I wish I had slut red lipstick on right then. He was tense and pissed. He was also hard and didn't stop me when I reached for his bulge over his jeans.

*...Telling me no lies. Knocking me out with those American thighs.*

"I love your cock, Kevin," I purred. It was true. And I was going to have it.

"What did you do," he held his hands helplessly to the side, unwilling to touch me, unwilling to stop me.

*Taking more than her share. Had me fighting for air.*

I giggled, acutely aware of the lyrics. "I'm showing you, baby. I'm showing you."

"You fucked the fucking cable guy?"

*She told me to come but I was already there.*

I grabbed his wrists and forced them on to my tits. It wasn't difficult. He knew what to do. He squeezed my tits harder than usual while AC/DC told us the earth was shaking. I stared at him lustfully. And when I pressed my body against his, his hands reached down for my ass, pressing us tighter.

"First we just danced like this. Really sexy," I whispered into his ear while I gyrated against him. Fuck, I was wet. Again.

*And you ... shook me all night long.*

"And then we did this," I breathed more than spoke. I kissed Kevin deep and passionately. His body was tense with protest, but it didn't stop him from flicking his tongue with mine. I kissed him deeper than I had in the longest time. Fuck, I wanted to choke him with my tongue. The way he possessively gripped my ass urged my tongue to fuck his throat deeper.

I loved when Kevin got really passionate. I loved when we clutched and grabbed at each other. I loved the feeling of my breasts smashed against his chest and somehow managing to heave with lust just the same. And I loved it even more that he couldn't keep me from raping him while I told him just how evil I was.

*Well you took me. Well you shook me.*

The guitar solo started to heat up when I put my hands on Kevin's chest, pushing back towards the sofa. "This is when he really started to take control," I grinned.

"Tiff, stop it," he tried to command me. He even managed to remain standing when his calves bumped into the sofa; until I gave an extra shove, anyway, when he fell helplessly backward.

"Yeah, that's what I told him, too, baby. Way to play along." I couldn't believe how cruel and uncaring I was. Was it worth being so destructive to avoid a little guilt?

Fuck yeah, it was.

"And the next thing I knew, he was pulling my shorts right off," I narrated, already having Kevin's pants and boxers down to his knees. "Oh, he took my panties off at the same time of course. They're on a schedule. They can't fuck around, you know."

"Tiffany," he scolded. He sounded so cute when he used the long version of my name, trying so hard to be serious. He was going to get fucked anyway.

I pulled him towards me until his ass was just on the edge of the couch and his gorgeous cock was standing straight up at me. He once bragged it was nine inches. Fuck if I knew if it was true. It was bigger than my cable guy's, but I wasn't about to disclose that. Let Kevin feel vulnerable. And slutty. Like I did.

I pulled off my shirt and bra. It was great feeling my tits hang naturally down and I couldn't resist squeezing them around Kevin's cock. When his cock twitched and spilled a bit of pre-cum on my tits, my pussy squeezed in heavy desire.

"I laid there just like you are, babe. I know my wet, shaved pussy was just begging," I slid between his spread legs and started to work his shaft with both of my hands. I humped my pussy at him and we exchanged lustful glares. With my knees on the floor and clit slapping at his balls, I lazily grabbed his ass. I continued this bizarre fucking motion. "Do you know what my pussy was begging for?"

"You better not have fucked him," he said behind lust hazed eyes. "I swear to fucking God, Tiffany,"

I opened my mouth and slowly ... I mean slowly, lowered it to his cock, locking my eyes with his the entire time. I stopped just short of putting him in my mouth and went a little lower. His cock jumped when the tip of my tongue licked the base of his cock and started to stroke up. I squeezed his thighs, and his hips were beginning to move against the sofa.

"That's when he started to lick my pussy, babe," I growled just before swallowing his rock hard cock. I know he didn't care for the allusion of his cock as being a cunt. But fuck if he didn't drive his hips hard into my mouth.

I'd given Kevin blow jobs before, usually on special occasions. Birthdays and shit.

I'd never fucked his cock with my mouth.

"Oh, god, Tiff," he groaned and twisted in a feeble attempt to escape my will. He didn't know if he should take control or give in. I knew that because this echoed my descent earlier with my cable guy. I groaned into Kevin's cock when I remembered the way my cable guy devoured me. He wasn't subtle or clever. He just plowed into my opening like he was fucking me with his cock. Like my mouth was my pussy for Kevin.

Kevin suddenly grabbed a fistful of my hair and I could feel him ready to yank. I sucked hard on his shaft, hard enough to trip beyond pleasure and into pain. At least a little. He got the message and let go of my hair but not the back of my head. If my mouth wasn't so full, I would have grinned when I felt his hand guide the tempo of my mouth. Give in, baby.

"Oh, God, Tiff. That feels so good."

Yeah, it did. Present and past melted together when I unbuttoned my shorts and tugged them down enough to grant me access to my pussy. My lips were wet and heavy, and my protruding clit ached for my touch. Yet as surely as my cable guy yanked his cock with no clever touch, I went past my clit and plunged two fingers deep inside my pussy.

AC/DC faded to background noise. I moaned around Kevin's cock. He grunted with every thrust between my lips. The taste of his salty pre-cum made me fuck him harder. And then his cock began to swell and twitch.

I pulled my mouth from his cock and my fingers from my pussy. I tugged on his balls and massaged the inside of his thighs. He was breathing so hard with his stomach rising and falling and I just hoped he could hold off from cumming.

He looked at me with eyes that were desperate with release. Behind that, his eyes revealed hate for me. I felt the evil in me slipping away, nudged aside by a knotted feeling of guilt. Looking down from Kevin's eyes, I beheld his cock, pulsing and powerful. It was meant for my pussy. Keep it simple. The guilt ebbed. I smiled again, my wicked side renewed.

I stood up and was impressed with how fluidly my shorts and panties hit the floor. Straddling my boyfriend, I took his cock in my hand and began to rub it in small circles around my pussy. My eyes were fluttering as I wondered if I should ease down on his pole or thrust down in one beautiful, hard stroke.

Kevin was always the sensible one. "Condom, babe."

"Why," I questioned him, feeling every part the slutty bitch. "He didn't." Oh, fuck, that was the stupidest thing I could have said. But I felt hotter than I ever had when I positioned Kevin's cock directly at my opening. My thighs started to relax and I prepared for the glorious feeling of penetration.

"Tiffany, fucking stop it," he yelled, his hands gripping my ass and holding me from dropping down on his cock. "You are crazy to think I'm going to fuck you after you had some other guy's dick in you. Never again." Kevin shook his head, trying to shake the fog of lust.

"Alright, babe," I acquiesced. "Just suck my tits, then." Shit, there was no end to my depravity. I didn't know what I was doing. I had only given in to something deep inside me and it seemed the only way everything could be alright was if Kevin did the same.

And the bastard started to suck my tits. All I did was grab one in both of my hands and presented it to my lips. He started to flick his tongue around my nipple. He kissed and bit around the areola. He was being too clever by half. He always was.

"God damn it. Suck my tits," and I pushed them against his face. I didn't care if I suffocated him with my breasts. Kevin was forced to release my ass to push my breasts off his face. But he got the picture and pulled them back in and began to devour them hungrily one at a time.

"Yeah, like that. Like that, baby," I whispered, encouraging him. I looked up at the ceiling. I smiled. "And like this, baby," I plunged down on Kevin's gorgeous, defenseless cock.

"Ohhhh, god," he moaned into my tits. He must have seen it coming. "Tiffany. Don't."

It was too late. It had been too late from the beginning. I ground on his cock, rotating my hips. He always seemed so deep, but I never felt him so hard. I never felt him pressed against my womb like this. "Fuck. Fucking good," I whispered.

I grunted. He groaned. I thought everything was going to be fine. Yes, I worried about getting pregnant. Yes, I fretted about catching something from my cable guy and now passing it on to Kevin. But I was much happier as a disillusioned slut. If he came deep in my unprotected pussy, everything was going to be fine.

"Gonna cum in my pussy, baby," I told him more than asked him between moans.

Kevin tensed. He stopped breathing. He grabbed on to my hips. But he wasn't cumming. He stood up, and I had to hold on to his shoulders. My pussy squeezed his cock, still trying to control him. It was useless. He grabbed my hips and threw me off of him. My feet hit the ground and I staggered backward into our entertainment center. It rocked, and AC/DC skipped.

"Fuck. How could you fuck that guy, Tiffany," he yelled, standing there in taut rage. I gnashed my teeth together in a supreme effort to keep my lip from quivering. I shrunk before him, wilting against the heat of his hate. His jutting cock was a rod of judgment instead of a promise of pleasure.

"And you are fucking out of your head right now if you think I'm going to let you make me your bitch."

Oh, God, don't lose it, Tiffany. Keep it together. Don't start to cry. "That's not what ..."

"Shut up," he yelled. "Just ... shut up."

And he jumped at me. I cowered, covering myself up. I thought he was going to beat me. Instead he turned me around and pushed me into the entertainment center. I held out my hands to catch myself, but not fast enough to keep my breasts from pressing painfully into one of the shelves. "Kevin," I muttered.

And then he took control.

His cock was hard inside of me. "Kevin," I groaned, looking at our reflection in the black screen of the television. "Oh, my god,"

He didn't say anything. He only grunted as he pounded into me. It hurt as his cock landed against my womb again and again. I tried to push back at him, but I could barely stand on my toes let alone my feet.

Kevin shouted in rage. He shouted in anger. He shouted as I felt his cum erupt in my pussy. It was the second time that day I had felt that feeling. The second time in my life. "Oh, yesssss," I hissed at him as he continued to fuck me through his orgasm. My pussy clenched and dripped in my own climax. Kevin didn't notice. Or care.

Finally he stopped moving his cock. He just held still inside of me, and his arms wrapped around my tummy. The stereo no longer played. Our panting was the only sound. Kevin dropped to his knees, taking me with him. From there, we laid down on the carpet with him spooning me from behind. His cock was still hard.

And then he pulled me to him and his cock lodged deeper. He lovingly kissed my neck. "Did you really fuck him?"

"No," I lied without hesitation. I sensed just then he was willing to believe anything. "I just wanted to spice things up a little."

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14 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
Bullshit

She is a slut and he would be an idiot not to know that!

AnonymousAnonymousover 10 years ago
Of course she fucked him.

She's a slut. Good thing she's only a girlfriend. They're SO much easier to dump than a wife. He's lucky he found out she's a whore before he married her.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 13 years ago
I will ask the my standard questions

How would she take it if he cheated?

Obviously, she wants to have no holds put her.

But how about him?

But lets face it, in a fuck out any girl can get more strange then even the best Don Juan de Marco.

So she's a worthless slut, do keep her? That is the question.

ErotonautErotonautalmost 13 years ago
Well matched

She's a lying slut, and he's an idiot.

kelsaffirmkelsaffirmalmost 13 years ago
CHALK ME UP INTO THE hhmorant COLUMN

oF THE 500 plus articles I've read, I've rated less than 50 and made approximately 30 to 33 comments - with only 1 or 2 being rated 5 stars. For me the author is less likely to be male (and if male, has an extraordinary metaphysical sense of females); however this does not diminish the art - form for a female author - as I truly enjoyed. Much as I am male, it is difficult to admit women are subjected to having a greater communicative sense and timing when determining what males need to hear regarding such topics. I may not appreciate having had the wool pulled over my eyes from time to time - yet mother nature can often be a harsh teacher. THANKS AGAIN

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