Note To Self - Sex Stories

Sex Stories, Erotic Stories, Porn Stories, XNXX Stories, Adult Stories, XXX Stories

Sex Stories Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Anal, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Fantasy, Incest, Hardcore, First Time, Dark Fantasy, Young, Group Sex, True Story, Romance, Masturbation, Domination/submission, Male/Female, Teen Male/Teen Female, Written by women, Teen, Erotica, Lesbian, Mature, Bi-sexual, BDSM, Exhibitionism, Virginity, Taboo, Humiliation, Female/Female, Cheating, Reluctance, Male/Teen Female, Rape, Threesome, Bondage and restriction, Gay, School, Voyeurism, Non-consensual sex, Cruelty, Love Poems, Violence, Teen Male / Female, Ass to mouth, Coercion, Wife, Male / Females, Job/Place-of-work,

Note To Self

Date: 11/27/2014, Categories: Bisexual, Author: blin18, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

Private journal of Anna Volakas Monday 22 nd September, 2014 I feel strange writing this down. No, not strange … guilty. I don’t know why I feel that way, because it doesn’t make sense; but I do know what’s causing it and maybe if I put it on paper then it won’t be in my head any more. Then maybe I can sleep again at night. Let the damn paper feel guilty. But here’s the thing: I’m not completely sure I want it out of my head. How’s that for messed up? Pretty frickin’ perfect, I should think; perfectly messed up is exactly what it is. The truth? I haven’t felt this excited … this alive … since my honeymoon. I think that’s why I feel guilty; not because what I’m feeling is wrong – I don’t think it is – but because these feelings should be reserved for Nick, my husband. ~~~ Shit. I just re-read what I’ve written so far and I sound like a lying, cheating bitch. Even to myself. But I’m not … at least, I’ve taken a long, hard look inside and I don’t believe I am. What if someone reads this? What if Nick reads this? Holy crap, Nick, are you reading this, baby? I can picture it so clearly; I left this thing lying open, or you went looking in my drawer for my keys, or any one of a million other things that could put this in your hands. Maybe I got killed at work and you’re sifting through my stuff, trying to make sense of the insensible, and this is what you find! Now I feel like an utter turd; part of me wants to tear out this page and burn the fucking thing. But I have to go on. ... I have to. Nick, baby, if you are reading this then please keep an open mind. Know that I love you. Always have, always will. Nothing has changed there. But there is something new; something inside me that I have to deal with and it doesn’t affect the way I love you. I’m not trying to make something happen with Susan, but if it did – and I know you probably won’t believe this – then it might actually be good for me. For us. I feel that very strongly. ~~~ Damn, clock’s ticking Anna. Forty minutes writing this and so far all you have is a page full of bullshit and innuendo. Maybe it’s time to take a concrete pill – as they say at the station – and harden the fuck up! Okay, here goes: I think I’m a lesbian. A rug-munching, fuzz-bumping, clam-digging, scissor sister! A fucking diesel-dyke copper; what a cliché. I thought that would make me feel better, but it didn’t. It makes me feel worse, not least of all because it’s not true. I just made myself cry. Good job, Anna. I’m straight; I like guys. I like the way they look and I like the way they feel. I love my husband. I don’t go for chicks. I don’t check out their tits or their legs. I don’t undress them in my mind. I don’t find them interesting … except for Susan. Susan! Susan is …? … ? Interesting. For the life of me I don’t know what’s interesting about a middle-class white woman in suburban America. ~~~ It’s not guilt. I just worked that out. I think it’s shame; and that burns so much hotter than guilt. If it was just the ...