Sex with the two men I love [FM]

*Disclaimer. This is a story about cheating. It was so fucking wrong and I’ll never do it again, but please don’t @ me.*

I’m cheating. It’s worrying how easy it is to forget. I remind myself all the time, as some sort of twisted penance. In the grocery store, I remind myself. In the bathroom at work, I remind myself. I hate myself, I remind myself. I’ve split myself into two and I have to keep reminding myself.

We had sex a couple hours ago, but he wants more. Desire is my favorite drug. I want to revel in it, inject it into my body. Maybe sex is really just my way of getting someone else’s desire inside my body.

He asks me to find a video I like. I scroll through my usual subreddits. A picture comes up of a GIANT cock next to some tiny chick’s face. It’s truly so ridiculous that we both start laughing. We’re bent over laughing so fucking hard. His cock is hard in his hand, and we can not stop laughing.

I’m laughing so hard, I can’t breathe. Tears roll down my cheeks.

That’s it. That’s what love is. Absolutely losing it together over a giant cock. I ask him later what he likes about our sex:

The closeness, the way you make it ok for me to be myself, say what’s on my mind, that you’re pretty much ready to do anything, that I love you truly and deeply, that I respect you, and that you’re beautiful and also so fucking hot.

Well, fuck.

There is a part of me he doesn’t see though, a part that only someone else does. I don’t have to ask this other person what he likes about the sex we have. The kind of sex we have does not need interpretation.

He’s fucking me so hard, I can’t breathe. Tears roll down my cheeks.

It’s so good, I can’t think. It leaves my mind gloriously blank. There is no space for anything else. He chokes me the way I like to be choked, he slaps me the way I like to be slapped. Grabbing, gagging, biting, smothering. He just knows. He makes me come like no one else. With his mouth, his hands, his cock. The orgasms just roll across my body when we fuck. I’m never reaching or trying for them, they always just come.

Each one rescues me from the other. I make the sex sweeter and rougher with each to justify the other’s existence. My life is split between these two sides. Binding and unbinding.

A side. I feel loved. Seen. That full-fat feeling of being enough. He holds his face next to mine while he fucks me. He says my name. Not baby, not slut, *my name*. He’s broad-shouldered and has with biggest hands I’ve ever seen a man have. I love putting his clothes on afterward. I sit crossed-legged on the bed, swimming in his shirt, happy and high.

B side. I meet him in a hotel room. I haven’t seen him in a month. I’m wet hours before, because I know what’s coming. We both come four times that night. Continental breakfast the next day, I can feel the bruises developing under my clothes. I watch him turn the pages of a newspaper. The human hand is incredible. It can both gently split apart two paper thin sheets and slap your ass so hard you bite the pillow not to scream.

A side. I kiss him and I can feel how hard it makes him. He tells me to get his cock wet and I get on my knees. I take it deep into my throat so that spit coats the entire thing. I look up when I hear him say that he needs my ass. I bend over the table like I know he likes.

“Whose is this?” with his hands on my ass.

“Yours.” I’m not sure if this is a lie or the truth.

“Do you love me?” He asks when he’s inside me. It isn’t sweet. He says it with brass in his voice. It’s hot, it’s possessive.

“Yes,” I admit while he fucks me like he needs me.

“Do you love my cock?” His voice is deep and it’s not really a question.

“God yes,” with more surrender in my voice.

It goes from raw to hot to loving. He comes so long and hard that I feel satisfied by it, like it’s my orgasm too. I know it’s going to make him cry. It happens sometimes when the sex is really good. His sigh at the end turns into low three sobs. He’s embarrassed because he thinks it isn’t manly. I stand up and hug him, his cum runs down my leg while I tell him it’s okay. That I like the emotion and the vulnerability.

The moment is so touching, it makes me want to scream. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just hug him so that I don’t.

B side. He has me ass up on the bed and he’s taking his time. He circles his palms on my ass. He grabs my ass as he presses himself inside me. I gasp and bury my face in the mattress. He grabs my ass so fucking hard that it hurts, but he keeps his strokes agonizing and slow so that I can feel both the pain and pleasure together. I know this is just the beginning. By the end, he’ll be fucking me so hard I’m screaming into the bed. He’ll wrap his hands around my neck or waist, both small enough to make him feel like he owns me.

I know which one sounds like the affair. I know what I would bet my money on. But it’s not what you think. You want the rough sex to be the affair. So do I. It somehow feels worse that I’m cheating with this deep, loving sex.

And I know there must be something wrong with me because that’s what’s in the dark, sticky part of myself. Loving, intimate sex. I keep it in as small a box I can. It’s the place I don’t go with my boyfriend. I feel more comfortable letting him slap me across my face than I do letting him see that part of me.

I look for a way out, for redemption. How to reconcile the two sides. I wonder when I’ll be able to bring myself together into one.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/stdyxd/sex_with_the_two_men_i_love_fm