I didn’t even blink.
It began innocently sufficient. A cocktail party, an excessive amount of wine, and a shared snort over an inside joke that solely he and I appeared to get. His hand lingered on mine only a second too lengthy when he handed me the bread, and that’s once I knew — there was one thing harmful between us. The evening unfolded like a forbidden dance: stolen glances, unintentional touches, and the sluggish burn of curiosity turning into need.
I didn’t imply for it to occur. A minimum of, that’s what I advised myself. Sophie, my finest good friend, trusted me fully. We shared every thing, from our deepest secrets and techniques to our wildest desires, however the one factor I by no means admitted to her was the way in which her husband, Mark, made me really feel. He had a manner of commanding consideration, of constructing you’re feeling such as you had been the one particular person within the room. That evening, it felt like he noticed proper by way of me.
The social gathering started to wind down. Sophie was drained and excused herself early, leaving Mark and me alone within the heat glow of the patio lights. “Need one other glass?” he requested, his voice low and welcoming. I nodded, unable to belief my phrases. As he poured the wine, I observed his palms — robust, regular, and just a bit too near mine.
We talked about every thing and nothing. His frustrations at work, my struggles with courting, the mundanities of life that instantly felt charged with electrical energy. Every snort introduced us nearer, every shared story deepened the connection. When he leaned in to brush a stray hair from my face, I felt my breath catch.
“You’re lovely,” he stated, his voice barely above a whisper. I knew it was fallacious, however in that second, it felt like essentially the most proper factor on this planet. When our lips lastly met, it wasn’t hesitation that gripped me, however starvation. Pure, unfiltered starvation.
We stumbled into the visitor room, our palms exploring, our breaths fast and shallow. Each contact felt electrical, each kiss a spark that ignited one thing deep inside me. It wasn’t simply lust — it was a connection I hadn’t felt in years, a way of being really seen and desired.
The following morning, I awoke tangled in sheets that weren’t mine, my head resting on his chest. The daylight streamed by way of the curtains, portray the room in a golden hue. I ought to have felt responsible. I ought to have been wracked with remorse. However as I checked out him, nonetheless asleep, a tender smile taking part in on his lips, all I felt was peace.
I left earlier than Sophie awoke, slipping out of the home like a thief within the evening. However not like a thief, I didn’t really feel regret. As an alternative, I replayed each second in my thoughts, savoring the way in which he made me really feel. Alive. Desired. Worthy.
Days was weeks, and I couldn’t shake the reminiscence of that evening. Mark and I didn’t communicate of it, however each time I noticed him, the air between us crackled with unstated pressure. I discovered myself craving his presence, his contact, his smile. And when the chance arose once more, I didn’t hesitate.
It wasn’t about love, probably not. It was about the way in which he made me really feel in these stolen moments. It was about reclaiming a chunk of myself I hadn’t realized I’d misplaced. And sure, it was egocentric. However in a world that continually calls for selflessness, I allowed myself this one indulgence.
Trying again, I do know what we did was fallacious. I do know it broke belief and crossed boundaries that ought to by no means have been crossed. However I can’t carry myself to remorse it. As a result of for the primary time in a very long time, I felt really alive.
Sophie by no means came upon, no less than to not my data. Our friendship continued as if nothing had occurred, although I’d be mendacity if I stated it wasn’t tinged with guilt. However each time I consider that evening, I don’t really feel remorse. I really feel gratitude. Gratitude for the way in which it jogged my memory of who I’m, of what I’m able to feeling.
Would I do it once more? In a heartbeat.
Simply to wind up I’m gonna say, in the event you’re somebody who really enjoyes studying about intercourse you can purchase me a espresso perhaps, proper? 🥺
