For as long as I could remember, I thought that married women that cheated on their husbands were scum, but in all respects, the more I thought about it, the more I agreed.
For if I was secretly meeting another man, allowing him to slip between my warm heavenly folds, to feel the sweltering tightness of my insides grasping his sex, then perhaps it was not me or them but it was you men once called husbands that were in the wrong well before the other man came along, as was the case for me
Fingers tangling roughly through my long locks of golden brown hair, I could feel his every moment, every twitch of his body, of his approval inside my mouth, gazing up at the handsome, muscular toned body of the barely legal man standing in front of me, his shimmering blue eyes locking onto mine as he groaned in approval.