Having amazing sex brought up soreness.
I hadn’t stretched my inner thighs in years. I was surprised that my legs didn’t have a spring hinge that closed them back up. Sex made me feel a soreness that tingled and reminded me the next day of the naughty fun I had been up to.
Happyhotpocket on r/adultery posted, “I don’t remember when the last time I’ve been this sore. And I’m loving every minute of it. I’ve got bruises in places I have no rational way to explain. I am giggling while putting concealer in places I never dreamed I would. Looking at them brings back memories of what happened and how good it felt. All I can think of is when can we do this again?”
Yes, when? I thought.
I had two lovers. The Italian I saw every week or so, and the Doctor, every four to six weeks because of his schedule and distance. I met the Italian at his apartment because he was single and the Doctor in hotel rooms.
I craved them both.
The Italian pushed me apart like I was a nut he couldn’t crack. My body stretched and bent into positions that I could only acknowledge by closing my eyes. I didn’t feel any pain during sex, but I knew I would see the results. His sharp elbows left marks as he tried to get his mouth deeper into me. His knees left black and blue’s that were tender days later.
“Where did you learn to fuck like that?” I asked after we were lying sweaty in each other’s arms on his queen mattress without a headboard. “It’s amazing you can go so long and not come,” I added.
“You like it?” he smiled.
He knew he had skills. “Other women complained that it was taking too long.”
“What?” I said, opening my eyes.
“Why wouldn’t you just cum, already?” they said to him.
“God, we’re perfect together,” I sighed. The longer, the better. He didn’t tire of pounding away at my body.
I was under its sway. Literally. That dick had power. My body responded, and all logic and reasoning went out the window. Like men who think with their dicks, women can have pussy for brain. I knew because my clothes were off within seconds of walking through his bedroom door.
The things my Italian did to my body had me whimpering and begging. I literally couldn’t believe that I could react to his touch so strongly.
He whispered in my ear, “Yes, baby,” when he knew that I was close.
It made me cum harder. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel ashamed of my sexuality. It was a gift that I offered myself and him. I had never been so uninhibited. I didn’t care about my cellulite or my body jiggling. I let myself go fully.
My lovers couldn’t keep their hands, mouths, and bodies off of me.
I’ve never had lovers who were so encouraging of my sex drive—who wanted to see me orgasm. And I didn’t want it any other way. I had been celibate for far too long.
An excerpt from my unpublished book about my first year “affairing.”
Who else savored soreness from their illicit rendezvous? Tell me in the comments.
My summer fling with a woman in her twenties involved several two way 24 hour drives into Canada while sleeping at rest stops. The return trips were NEXT LEVEL soreness 🤣😭😎
Pain is not my jam. But a god orgasm can make up for it.