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Not just tiny, embarrassed sobs, but humiliated wails. He is confused now as he pulls me close to him, laughing nervously at my abrupt shift in disposition. Going out and fucking — even someone you don’t really like — is wild, dangerous, but essentially social and shared.I try to pull the sheet completely over my head, but he pulls it back down and covers my face with apologetic kisses. He can’t possibly know what I’ve just revealed to him. Though I had periods of promiscuity throughout my twenties, my biggest issue has always been with what I do alone.The past couple of months has allowed us to cover most of the basics — what ended each of our most recent relationships, what our parents are like, what we hope to do with our lives in the next few years — but there’s still a longing for something deeper, and I can’t think of anything deeper than knowing a person’s favorite porn scene. For one scene to stand out amongst the rest, when so many others are available, there has to be something below the surface. What keeps a person returning in the deep, dark recesses of a lonely night?Perhaps the answers to these questions are a great source of shame. Too many of my past relationships were doomed by my inability to tell the whole truth, to fully be myself.I never thought of revealing such answers to anybody, and especially not somebody like him, somebody I could really like. Now I have the opportunity to go there, and to say to a person, “This is who I am. ” “Well, there’s this one gang bang,” I start, looking over at his face to see a reaction of surprise and interest register at once.
Or perhaps something a little more racy: These two hot teens swap their math teacher’s cum after he made them stay late in the classroom. I feel a constriction in the back of my throat, a flutter in my belly, a tremble in my extremities. ” I reach for the sheet, damp with sweat, a tangle of 300-thread-count cotton across our limbs, and yank it up to cover my breasts. The tone of my voice has become defensive and he can tell. He’s trying to be considerate since we just had sex while staring at the laptop screen after searching terms of his choosing: Latina, real tits, blow job, threesome.
I have revealed something so dark, so upsetting, so impacted in shame, and he hasn’t immediately disappeared.
He is still here beside me, propped up on his left hand, naked and vulnerable, and so am I.
I’m careful to keep my breath from becoming a pant, even as my pulse quickens, but this takes much concentration. I have masturbated in this way next to the sleeping bodies of all my serious, committed partners who came before my husband.
This orgasm is a controlled, measured, calculated experience.Because I liked him so much that I wanted to love him.