After a while and a couple of months of immediate and social encounters secretly performing our hard core wishes within a dream, we have finally developed our desire; it was quick, but enough for a second and a third encounter. Each time was perfect, but that first time was surreal: the kisses were given (mouth, neck, mouth-neck-chest and a bite); the touches were well played (arm, cheeck, arm-hips, hips-down); the mood was set; jeans off, panties wet and the hard fusil on screen...
Silence, sweet silence heard, eyes shot and a score: zero-one for the two sweaty pairs of legs. Contractions and a new score: zero-two... I'm an easy gal.
There, lays a wife on the street (or another girlfriend hooked by the "swear I love you"). The wife of that "him", the desired and taken man for the night by another woman: me. The street and the woman walking wonder how well and perfect is he for children and home sweet home.
Don’t judge me… don’t. I might have just saved your marriage, or your so called relationship. Every man is perfect for a night, flesh we are and we all must be eaten. But the woman on the street once loved, once lover of that man taken by another woman for the night, has never understood this is just pure sex, a one time. Or two... maybe three.