1. Stroking Midnight


    Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: LushStories, Rating: 93.9, Source: sexstories.com

    I took a long sip of my dirty martini and leaned into the bar, staring resentfully down towards the end of it. My boyfriend of three years, Ryan, was still engaged in conversation, feeding his ego with clever banter. I noticed the familiar animated expressions, grand gestures, and overly enthused laughter that captivated the small crowd of people he was talking to. I sighed heavily, and settled back onto my bar stool and played with the spear of olives in my drink. It was New Year’s Eve, but all it really amounted to was just another night of pretending I was happy. It was something that I had become good at, thanks to several years of practice at trying to be his girlfriend. Ryan and I had started out, as every other couple seemed to. There had been that magnetic attraction that night at the club when we had first met. It had been another New Years Eve, three years prior. I had been trying to get a drink, along with the surging crowd that had been pushing towards the bar, trying to get any bartender’s attention. Being a rather small and diminutive blonde in a sea of tall men, he must have seen my struggle, and moved in to easily impress me with the way he commanded attention. When he handed me a glass of champagne in time for the clock to strike midnight, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. Over the years I had blossomed under the flattery of what it meant to be Ryan’s girlfriend. He seemed to know everyone in the city, and everyone wanted him at their parties. He was ...
    charming, and entertaining and those bright blue eyes made you feel like you were the only woman in the room. Even though behind the clever front, he was the kind of guy who was constantly aware of every flirty, smiling, long-legged piece of ass that was in his immediate vicinity. He’d make you laugh hard enough to not notice the way he’d steal a quick glance over your shoulder. Sometimes, he would blatantly and openly flirt with another girl while you were standing right there, being distracted by a conversation with one of his friends. I had wanted to be the “cool girl” back then. I didn’t want to seem clingy or insecure, or at least I didn’t want it to be obvious. Inside, I was constantly questioning what his motives were or how committed he really was, even after we’d moved in together. I was, as some of his more sarcastic friends would say, the perfect foil. My refusal to appear like the typical jealous girl gave him ample opportunity to come home at 4am, go on guy’s trips to Vegas, and spend time sending text messages late at night without me ever having the nerve to confront him. Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe I knew it and had already accepted it. After all, we were a fun couple; we had a beautiful crowd of exciting and successful friends to party and vacation with. We lived in a trendy condo in the heart of the city, right by the lake, and on the outside we were the couple everyone wanted to be. Was he cheating? It had been grating on me more and more over the ...
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