We were so drunk when we had our first encounter in a motel. I didn’t want to be tagged a lame fuck so I gave him my best. I was on his top and rode him like a wild cowgirl chasing a bull. He reached my deepest part with his tool—it was so big, hard and fat making my partner’s seem childlike in comparison. I just can’t remember how may climaxes I reached. It was so good I knew we’d have a second encounter.
This time, we were not drunk. Since we hooked up, he’d always drive me home knowing my partner wasn’t there. One time I made the first move. I kissed him torridly, sucked his tongue, and sat on him while we’re parked in front of my place. He told me he didn’t want to disrespect me at my place so we went to a nearby motel. There he fucked me so hard in a missionary position. I came thrice. We changed places; I rode him again and he deliriously shot his load inside me.
I resigned a week after and moved to our company’s competitor. Now I feel like I’m having a third kid. If my OB tells me it’s positive, then I would stop this affair. But if not, I do it again—more carefully this time.
MJV, by email