It's over, I've accepted it. I'm in love.
I know, a good mistress never falls in love, but what am I going to do? It's not about a simple fling or whim. It's something much stronger and more intense, a heart-stopping arrow that blinds and confuses me.
For the first time, I'm seriously considering divorce.
The night I spent with Damián made me understand several things, the most important being that I want to be his woman, his wife, by his side at all times.
There are guys I get along with, whose sex is sublime and stimulating, like Cholo and Jorgito, but that's all we have in common. Just sex and then goodbye (well, more than one time for Cholo... haha). On the other hand, with Damián, sex is just a derivative of what we feel for each other.
Okay, without sex, we would never have met, I'm clear about that. But over time it became something much stronger, more romantic, more spiritual.
I don't think I'm wrong if I say that today we're not just having sex, but making love. That's what I feel in my body, intimacy, every fiber of my being... the sex with Damián is pure and genuine love. I love him and loving him makes my life a calvary because I can't be with him all the time. And I want to be by his side not just for him to make love to me whenever and wherever he wants, but to share moments, know everything about each other, be his as much as he is mine. And that hurts, it hurts not just in my heart but also in my soul.
At first, I tried to deny it. I'm a married woman with a toddler still in diapers. One thing is putting my husband's horns on some occasional lover, and another very different thing is cheating on him with someone I feel something much more intense and powerful than anything I've ever felt for him. That hurts because sex is just sex, but sex with love is something much more complicated, especially when one of the parties is tied to a relationship they can't escape.
I tried to get away From Damian, I tried once and a thousand times. He didn't return my messages, didn't answer his calls, until I slept with other men just to not be with him, but nothing worked. I've always considered family first, so I even thought about ending the relationship once and for all. Forget him and all those feelings that had me submerged in an endless abyss.
I called him and asked to meet up. We met at a café after work. He asked what was going on because I'd been avoiding him. And I told him:
I love you, but I can't love you, my husband, my son...- I couldn't finish, my voice cracks.
I don't want to cry, I don't want to show myself so weak.
I also love you, or did you think it was just sex? he continues.
That's why we should stop here, before one of us gets hurt, I insist.
If we stop now, both of us will get hurt, he assures me.
We kept talking, ordered another round of coffee, and I called my husband to tell him I was at a friend's place. The conversation had been going on for a while, and I didn't want it to end abruptly. Our time together deserved a beautiful ending.
I insisted that we should stop seeing each other, at least for a while, to see if what we felt was real.
Maybe it's best, he agreed.
It hurts that he accepts it so easily, without fighting, but also I think it's best, maybe time and distance...
But if we're going to leave each other, you can't deny me one last screw, he added quickly.
Did you understand a single word of what I said? I asked, surprised.
Yes, perfectly, that's why I think it's most appropriate to end like we started: by screwing, he insisted with a lascivious smile.
I agree with that too, it wasn't what I thought, but... being so close to him, at his mercy... I'm not made of steel and less when it comes to Damian.
One last screw, and then goodbye, I said.
Whatever you say, he agreed.
We went to a hotel that's just a couple of blocks away. cuadras, nothing spectacular, we don't need that either. We start as always, with kisses and caresses, those kisses that disarm me and those caresses that make my blood boil.
I suck his cock, he sucks my pussy, and when I start to feel that tongue that usually provokes chaos in me, I realize I won't be able to get rid of him so easily. It's my addiction, my preferred vice, with him I feel things I don't feel with anyone else, he transports me to a universe of sensations that no other man has ever taken me to.
I've had lovers who knew how to touch that intimate fiber that transcends the merely physical. Bruno, the father of my son, is one of them. But still, it's Damián who surpasses him.
I'm lying on my back, with my legs open, enjoying between hoarse gasps the delicious strokes he's tracing along my pussy... ah, I feel full, radiant, happy.
I grab his face with both hands and pull him towards me, kiss him wildly, passionately, savoring between his lips my own intimacy.
Without stopping kissing him, I grab his cock (hard, solid, hot), and place it between my thighs. I put myself on it, piece by piece, feeling like I'm recovering that part of my body that's missing to feel complete. I move my pelvis up and down, putting it all in, letting myself be filled by that vital pulsation that moves me to the very depths.
-Ahhhhhhh...!- I sigh deeply as he's all inside me.
How can I give that up? Do I have enough strength to deny myself what makes me so woman?
I'm not thinking about later, only about now, this moment when the man of my life is making love to me for the last time. I feel him entering and leaving, advancing and retreating, tracing over and over again my most hidden interiors. Has anyone ever reached where he reaches? Why do I feel things with him that I don't feel with anyone else? Love, it's the only explanation. The emotion more pure and intense than we can feel, the base on which our humanity is built.
While we make love, we kiss, intensely, juicily, we savor each other, we bite each other, we give ourselves to each other's tongue. My hands rise and fall enthusiastically all over her back, I claw at her, I scratch her, leaving my passion, my frenzy imprinted on her skin.
So that any other woman who comes after me can know that she was once mine.
I cling to her buttocks and push her against my body, simultaneously pushing myself against him, going in and out again and again, piercing myself into his flesh, groaning, panting, sighing, giving myself completely to that man who is so transcendental in my life.
I don't want anyone to take it away from me, I want it to stay always inside, where it belongs, in its natural place, filling me with the force of his virility.
- I love you... I love you...! - I gasp into her ear, receiving one after another the thrusts of pleasure.
I bite her earlobe, lick her face all over, and in a burst of passion, I turn to one side, now he's below and I'm above, my cock fully inserted into me.
- I feel you so much... mmmmhhhhh...! - I say between sighs, while I start moving up and down, making love with... love, precisely.
Her hands take hold of my breasts, she kneads them, pinches them, palms them, grabs one with each hand, takes them to her mouth and sucks them with frenzy. She spits on each nipple and bites it, sucks it, savors it avidly, letting him ride me at his own pace, neither fast nor slow, with the just cadence so that we both reach climax at the same time.
We don't even have to say anything, each one knows when the other is about to come, and this wouldn't be an exception, since we reach the peak of the universe together, facing God, more united than ever. Melted into each other, fused, our essence merged. becoming one. -God... ahhhhhhh... ahhhhhhhh...!- feeling his sperm raining down on my intimacy is in itself a religious experience. The encounter of our souls, of our spirits, transcending the purely carnal. -I love you, I love you!- I keep telling him, collapsing between sighs over his body. We kiss again, juicy, intensely. He caresses my booty and squeezes me even closer to him, making me feel with greater fluidity the copious discharge. -Enjoy it, my love, because it's the last- he whispers in my ear. -It was very nice meeting you- I say before leaving the hotel, with tears in my eyes. -The same goes for me, too bad we can't keep going- he laments. -It's not that I don't want to, I'll explain it to you- I don't want to prolong the suffering, so I hurry him out, giving him a lukewarm kiss on the cheek and goodbye. It was beautiful while it lasted, but if I want to keep my family, I have to get away from him, no matter how much it hurts. As I walk away, I don't turn around, I don't want to cry like Magdalena and run back into his arms. The decision is already made. Goodbye Damian, I will always love you.
42 comentários - Siempre te amaré...
NO SIRVEN PARA NADA, PERO TE DEJO MIS 10 PUNTINES DE HOY...........
lamento el final pero eso te dar fuerza
¡¡¡¡¡Es mejor amar y aver perdido que nunca aver amado!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
igual capaz que intuye tu marido de esto, hablalo, por ahi te quedas con ambos. Siglo 21 todo es posible. +3
Besos
marita desde hace mucho tiempo sigo tus historias , desde ya que todas son excelentes en todo sentido !!! su redacción y contenido...
pero este es especial, emotivo y me toca de lleno xq me pasa algo similar con una mujer con la que salgo desde hace un año y 1/2 ..
te dejo puntos y un fuerte abrazo
saludos
j.m.b + 8
a mi mujer le hacia el amor , a mis amigas solo sexo, hoy despues de 4 años de estar viudo te digo que solo tengo sexo.
Solo es cuestion de amar Marita y si hay algun juicio al respecto, hay que dar las gracias, que como humano, eso nos excede; Buen relato. .
Tus relatos son fabulosos como siempre... Me encanta leerte y estas entre mis favoritas. No puedo negar que sin conocerte te has convertido en una especie de "amiga".
No me considero un troll, para nada... Pero lamento no poder expresar o sentir lo que muchos aqui te han escrito... Lo siento de veras, pero permitime darte mi opinion...
Pero por lo que interpreto de las señales que has contado en tu relato, Damián no te ama, solo busco siempre coger contigo.
Obviamente le gustas y se calienta mucho contigo, pero sinceramente dudo realmente que pueda o quiera amarte, no sos lo que un hombre "normal" desearia tener a su lado para siempre y él lo sabe...
Tal como siempre nos has pintado a Damian en tus relatos, siempre me parecio un ser sencillo, bueno, simpatico, pero al mismo tiempo no demasiado evolucionado y especial como para pensar de manera diferente al normal de los de mi mismo sexo, pero bueno, a lo mejor estoy equivocado.
Respecto a lo de que no queres/podes divorciarte, me imagine vagamente el motivo y en tus respuestas lo confirme... Jejeje... 😉 Vivis una vida muy placentera, Marita... Disfrutala y no te enganches sentimentalmente con nadie, porque seguramente saldrás perdiendo.
Un saludo respetuoso y con la mejor buena onda para mi escritora erótica favorita... 😉
creo que a tu lado no soy nada, me gustaria saber como sos animate a una fotito
solo una, deseosa de estar a tu lado preciosa asi no tenga japi, te haria y rico 69
Pero bueno, asi nomas es la vida Marita, pero dicen que despues del tormento llega el sol.