Page 102 of Deliverance

Before I can finish that thought, she’s lowering her pussy onto me as she begins eating mine. We both groan as we begin devouring each other. I’m stuck between wanting this to last forever and making her come all over my face. Fuck, I’ve missed her. Her smell, her taste. Just…her. Knowing that I can’t have her has only made me want her more. Knowing that I absolutely shouldn’t be touching her or letting her touch me, it sends me over the goddamn edge.

I feel my legs begin to quake and hers are right behind me. Tilting my hips, I grind my pussy against her tongue before I’m falling over the edge. Running my tongue through her, I moan and whimper against her, forcing myself to stay focused as I shatter apart. Thankfully, she is right there with me, the taste of her cum splashing against my tongue as I lick and suck her clean.

When our orgasms have passed, she slowly climbs off of me, sitting beside me hesitantly. My post orgasm clarity hits, and I realize the gravity of what I just did. Holy fuck. I just cheated on my girlfriend. Not just a ‘little peck while I was drunk’ cheat, either. No, I tongue fucked the woman I love while she did the same to me. I humped and grinded against another woman, and until this moment, I felt practically zero guilt.

Now guilt is all I’m able to feel.

Sliding out of bed, I quickly grab my clothes, pulling them on as I attempt to get dressed as quickly as possible. Bridgette doesn’t say anything, thank fuck, because I’m pretty sure if she asked nicely enough, I’d climb back into bed with her and we’d never come up for air again.

I pocket my phone and keys before moving to the door. I’m halfway through it when I hear Bridgette’s soft voice.

“I’m sorry.”

I pause, my body going stiff. She didn’t do anything wrong. This was on me. She tempted me, I gave in. That was the extent of her doing. The rest is on me. I’m so goddamn weak for her I folded like a lawn chair.

Forcing myself to continue through the doorway, I let the door shut with a solid thunk. I walk to the elevator, jamming the button to my floor as I put my head in my hands. I’m so distracted, I don’t hear the elevator arrive and I slip inside just before it closes on me.

When I get to my room, I slam the door shut and move to my bathroom, beelining for the shower as if I can wash the mistake from my skin. I turn the water up until it’s practically scalding, before peeling off my clothes and slipping inside. I lather up my loofa with soap and pause.

I have warring feelings of needing to scrub every inch of that moment from me while also never wanting to touch it, never wanting to lose the feel of her, the smell of her. Then guilt slams back into me, and I begin to scrub. I scrub until my skin is raw and then I scrub some more. I brush my teeth three times and yet I can still somehow taste Bridgette on my tongue.

Fuck.

How am I going to tell Maryia? It’s going to break her heart. I may be having a hard time truly falling for her, but I know the same can’t be said for her. She’s fallen for me hard and fast, and I just did the most disrespectful thing I could possibly do to her, to us.

When I step out of the shower, I wrap a towel around me and get dressed. As soon as I slide on my clothes, a knock comes at the door. My heart flips in panic. I can’t see Bridgette right now. I don’t know what to think or even do. I know that I need to be alone, though.

The knock comes again.

“Babe, are you in there? It’s me,” Maryia says through the door.

Fuck.

Pasting on a smile, I crack open the door.

“Hey,” I say as I scrunch my hair with the towel.

“You didn’t tell me you were back,” she says as she lingers in the doorway.

“Just got back. What’s up?” I ask.

Maryia frowns. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Sorry, yeah,” I say as I shake my head, stepping out of the way.

If I thought guilt was eating at me before, it is practically consuming me now, being face to face. I just have to tell her. Word vomit it out. I’ll feel better once I do. She deserves to know. I’d want to know immediately if the roles were reversed.

The roles would never be reversed, though. She is kind and sweet and loyal and I’m just…a tramp.

Okay, I just need to say it. Here goes fucking everything.

“Maryia, I?—”

“I’m sorry,” she says before bursting into tears.

I frown as I wait for her to continue.

“I just…I get so jealous. I feel l-like I’m losing you. I know there isn’t anything between you and Bridgette, I mean, she’s the worst. You were just being a good person and I just…I’m a jealous bitch. I’m so sorry, though. I don’t want to lose you,” she sobs.

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