Confessions Read Online Free Page B

nightgown up, my panties aside. I was wet already, just from listening. My fingers slid easily between my slit, parting the soft, red pubic hair and searching in the darkness for my throbbing clit. It always thrilled me when I heard him, too. Mostly it was just her, but sometimes I heard him growl or grunt something low and oh, so hot: "Get on your knees, bitch! Suck it! Suck it!" Then I wouldn't hear anything for a while, but I didn't stop rubbing, the delicious sensation growing between my thighs as I tweaked my nipples through my nightgown. I strained to hear something, anything, trying to imagine Mrs. L on her knees like he told her, sucking his cock. I'd had a cock in my mouth before, I knew what it felt like, the insistent thrust, the tangy taste of precum. "Oh god, yes!" Her voice rose, grew closer somehow, and I arched toward the wall, my fingers buried in my wetness. "You like me bent over for you, baby? You like fucking me like a dog?"
    The heat of her words made me want to hide my face in the pillow, but my fingers worked faster, harder under the covers.
    "That's it, don't stop! Oh god, don't you fucking stop! You're gonna make me come all over that big, hard tool!"
    Mrs. L was a slut. A naughty, dirty whore. She said so herself. "Fuck your little whore! Fuck her 'til she comes!"
    I heard him groan, long and low, and that made me twist and buck on my little twin bed, hearing her finally lose her words, lost in her orgasm, just moaning with it now, over and over and over. My climax found theirs and I came, too, whimpering and shoving my hips up to meet the wet thrust of my own fingers, shuddering with pleasure as the sound of their coupling faded.
    I always had a hard time looking them in the eye the day afterward. Of course, they didn't know I'd heard. And I never said anything. But they sure taught me a lot, late at night, after everyone else was asleep…

Confessions: Union Station
    It's been over ten years ago, now, that my ex and I were separated, and I flew to Chicago to meet a cyber lover. Dan was a former DJ, charming, arrogant, cocky, and a staunch Republican. We were like gasoline and a match- the sparks flew. I was twenty-five, separated with two kids. He was thirty-something, a year out of a serious relationship with the "love of his life" and liked kids… the way some people like cats…
    "with a nice honey glaze sauce."-Those were his exact words.-I don't know what I was thinking. Okay, I know. I thought I was in love. I probably really was. But it was doomed from the start. Still, love doesn't pay attention to that, does it?
    Perhaps my body knew, because I got my period the Friday I left. It started heavy and fast and I called him in tears, because of course, after all the cyber sex and phone sex, real sex was definitely on the menu. I had new lingerie and had planned not to wear any panties on the forty-five minute flight. My body had other ideas. He comforted me on the phone, said it was okay, we'd just spend the weekend together doing… other things.
    And we did. We kissed the minute I got off the plane. We kissed a lot that weekend. We cuddled a lot. I certainly alleviated my oral fixation more than once with him. And Chicago was a fine town to play in. It really was a good time, and I remember it fondly. In fact, when Sunday rolled around, neither of us wanted to go home. We walked, hand in hand, through Union Station, where he was going to meet his train. It's very stately and beautiful, and we spent an hour or so on one of those benches. We didn't talk much — but we felt a lot.
    Considering how things ended up, I'm glad I had an excuse not to have sex that weekend, but at the time, I was simply aching to be with him. I spent the whole time in a constant state of arousal. The anticipation for our meeting was incredible and I didn't know how I was going to make it through. But I did — the entire 48 or so hours — with no orgasm. He had a few, and giving him those made me so filled with