Please bear with me. I was inspired to write today. It's been a while.
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It was the "please don't go" that killed her. She couldn't make him understand. She didn't want to go; she had to go. It was her wife. Her wife was so giving. So understanding. So full of grace. She was her whole world. She couldn't betray her; not even for him.
But he didn't get it. He was hurt. Angry. Rejected. And he didn't know that when he said those words she'd cried for hours.
They'd never met. Still, she longed to be laid out over his lap, his strong hands caressing her bare ass. She ached for the sting of his slap, the deep throb between her thighs, and his stern voice cutting through her chatter. She wanted to watch him stroke himself to completion, pearls of white cum dripping over his dark fingers. She wanted to lick them clean.
"Please don't go."
The words were tattooed on the backs of her eyelids. She saw them each time she blinked.
He said it was one sided. She wasn't giving like he was. It hurt him.
He didn't understand that the only one she'd give more to was her wife. She'd already broken so many rules for him. It was all for him. But she knew it would never be enough. He said he'd take whatever she could give him.
He clearly lied.
Now every time it rained she'd think of they day they didn't spend fucking. Her empty inbox was a dream that she'd never hurt him. That he didn't hate her. That he'd know what it was she wanted.
Him. She wanted him. Bending her over the side of the bed. Tying her to the headboard. Forcing her to her knees. She wanted to taste his lips, his breath, his cock. She ached for him. Needed him. Longed to explore this... thing.
"Please don't go," he said.
Yet, she did. She went home. She laid beside her beautiful wife and cried. She cried all night long.
He'd never understand
