Breaking the Ex [MMF, [F25, M25, M41] [BiSexual] [Cuckold] [Power Dynamic] [Non-Fiction]

I’m writing this on the back of a post I made several days ago on a confessions board. In light of Nick’s discovery, and having blocked me from contacting him using conventional methods, I penned a lengthy, somewhat rambling, letter to him. I sent it recorded delivery to his home address. I wasn’t looking to rekindle anything, far from it. I was actually glad that the relationship was over. I didn’t expect a reply, I just wanted to provide Nick with closure.

I was surprised, I’d even say shocked, when, barely a week after sending the letter, that Nick appeared at the gate of my apartment building. I don’t know if he’d been trying the door, as I saw him when entering myself. I didn’t even realise it was him until I attempted to enter, as he had his back to me. I should have recognised him, but I just didn’t. He was the last person that I expected to see that day.

My First Orgy

3rd February: AM.

I awoke this morning with trepidation, anxiety and a feeling in the pit of my stomach that acknowledged that today was going to be the day I was going to change the course of my adult life and cross boundaries that were previously thought unbroachable. At least by society, that is. I’m not going to lie, I’m by no means a prude, perhaps inexperienced, but not a prude. I love fucking. I love doing it, I love listening to it, I love watching other people do it.

I couldn’t face breakfast, not even coffee, and it was only when my alarm went off on my phone, giving me that fifteen-minute countdown before I had to leave my apartment, that I realised I was kneeling in the shower, such was the daze and level of pre-occupation my mind had been placed under. I’d washed thoroughly, shaved, and applied a number of different perfumes. It’s something I was taught as an exchange student whilst living and studying in Italy. Apply one fragrance to your ankles, another to your midriff, and another to your wrists and neck, and make sure the scents all complement each other.

My First Orgy

3rd February: AM.

I awoke this morning with trepidation, anxiety and a feeling in the pit of my stomach that acknowledged that today was going to be the day I was going to change the course of my adult life and cross boundaries that were previously thought unbroachable. At least by society, that is. I’m not going to lie, I’m by no means a prude, perhaps inexperienced, but not a prude. I love fucking. I love doing it, I love listening to it, I love watching other people do it.

I couldn’t face breakfast, not even coffee, and it was only when my alarm went off on my phone, giving me that fifteen-minute countdown before I had to leave my apartment, that I realised I was kneeling in the shower, such was the daze and level of pre-occupation my mind had been placed under. I’d washed thoroughly, shaved, and applied a number of different perfumes. It’s something I was taught as an exchange student whilst living and studying in Italy. Apply one fragrance to your ankles, another to your midriff, and another to your wrists and neck, and make sure the scents all complement each other.