For All We Know


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Tear Jerker, Cheating, First, School, .

Desc: Sex Story: I just couldn't help it. I fell in love with another man's woman

Hi Folks, How do you follow last week? You don't. You just write another story and realize that some of them are going to do well and others will go over like a fart in church. The last two have been relatively aggressive so this time I wanted to do something little different. Two of my biggest influences are DQS1 and AlleyKat08. In the last story he graced us with, he mentioned that he doesn't think that cheaters are necessarily bad people they've just made mistakes.AK08 is radical about her views on cheaters. I thought it might be interesting to explore this and see if I could find a situation where she'd have sympathy for the cheaters. Some of you won't like this one (naturally) so next week will of course be something different. Thanks, as always, to the incredible Mikothebaby who turned my gibberish into a story and this week had far less time to do it. SS06

"Again today I sat alone. I watched the rain as it fell."

"Another moment passes by. That's when the loneliness is felt."

No a good start, I thought. They were probably the most depressing song lyrics I'd ever written. How the hell was I supposed to help it though? I tended to write the way I felt and on that rainy day only one thing was going through my mind.

I knew that she was with "Him," again. I couldn't help it. I wondered what they were doing and I felt sick to my stomach. I imagined him whispering into her ear, and I wanted to scream.

Of course, she always tells me that she loves me and only me. But what difference does that make?

I imagine him running his hands all over her luscious body or simply touching her and I want to strangle the bastard. Of course, he isn't a bastard at all, he's actually quite noble. It doesn't change a fucking thing. If I thought that for one second I could get away with it, I'd kill that motherfucker. But instead, I sit here on a rainy afternoon and write depressing song lyrics. My band is doing really well and we need new material.

I don't even understand why I do certain things and why I don't do others. Why, for instance, am I playing in a band? I'm twenty four years old and working on my Master's degree in bio chemistry. Between my classes and my internship at Harris Chemical, I'm pretty busy. I'd love to be able to spend the rest of my time with Priya. And to be honest, I really do. We share a lot of the same classes. We study together and our work schedules are the same so really the only time we're apart is when we're at work at our different jobs...

... Or when she's spending time with this bastard. He travels a lot and whenever he's in town, she's with him. In fact, he mostly comes into town just to see her and fuck up my life. After he leaves, it takes a while for us to get over the feelings of guilt and anger that he leaves in his wake. Sometimes it's her, but lately it's been me.

The last time he came into town and left, I'd been already asleep when he was done with her. She came into my room. I still don't understand why she didn't just stay in their hotel room until the next morning. Anyway she came in and crawled into bed with me. I pretended to be asleep. She tried to shake me and I mumbled but continued my pretense. So realizing finally that sex was off of the table, she snuggled herself into a spoon position right in front of me.

Her ass insinuated itself against my crotch and she even had the nerve to pull my arm around her. She let out a contented sigh the way a cat does after stretching and clawing up your fucking couch.

And that was what she'd just done to me. She'd just clawed up my fragile heart and treated me like my feelings mattered to her as much as the couch you aren't done paying for, does to that fucking cat.

I could smell the Indian food on her breath with its pungent spices and I could smell the shitty, flowery smelling incense that he burned in his hotel rooms in her hair. Either she didn't care that I could smell them or it just didn't matter. Maybe she thought that I loved her so much that she could just throw shit in my face and I had no choice. Maybe she thought that I loved her so much that I'd take her back no matter what. And the worst fucking things about it is that she was right. I did love her that much and I would.

From the very first time that I saw Priya, I belonged to her. She's exotic looking with an almost golden complexion. She has long, inky black hair that goes almost down to her waist. Her waist is so tiny that I can put my hands around it and have my fingertips touch. Her breasts are very large for her petite frame and her ass is very well rounded. She has very long, sculptured legs but despite all of that, my favorite of her physical attributes are her large almost luminous, golden eyes and her mouth. Whether it's her wry little smile expressing something, while her sarcasm cuts someone to bone, or the way she winks at me while we're in class; I love her face more than anything. The only thing that comes close to her face is her personality. Priya is everything to me. She's both best friend and girlfriend at the same time. She's my biggest fan and my harshest critic as well.

I remember times when I wrote songs for her that I thought were brilliant and that everyone in the band loved and she'd say, "Meh."

I'd asked her what was wrong with it. Neither she nor I had any formal training in music and some of the guys in the band were music majors. I always figured if they liked it, it had to be good. We'd try the song out at a gig or party and usually her reactions would be correct.

I remember asking what it was about the song that she didn't like. And she'd tell me.

"You can do better, Honey," she'd say. "This song sounds just like the song you wrote me for my birthday. So if you do this song and that song in the same night, most people aren't going to like it as much because they'll think they've already heard it."

She was always pushing for me to do more and do better. All of our friends had gotten to the point where they were simply tired of hearing us talk about each other. My friends got to the point where they refused to even listen to my opinion on women. I remember last week when the SI swimsuit edition came out. Being guys, we talked about it. There was even an argument going on over whether Kate Upton or Cintia Dicker was the most beautiful woman on the planet. They even asked a couple of the girls about it. But they never asked me, not even to break the tie. Finally, one of the girls brought me the magazine and asked me which one I liked. And I told her that I thought they were both beautiful but neither one was nearly as pretty as Priya.

She, on the other hand, sits around drawing little hearts with our names in them and sometimes gets so distracted doing that and dreaming about our future during class, that I have to give her my notes to study from. I guess it's not enough to be in love. We both think that the other was put on this planet just for us.

So the other night, when she crawled into bed and snuggled up to me, it hurt her just as badly I think, when I rolled away from her, as it had hurt me to think about the time that she'd just spent with him.

By now, all of the "He man" guys out there are thinking that I should go find the guy and beat his fucking ass. That isn't possible or likely because I am not Rambo. "Shit, Rambo isn't Rambo anymore. Stallone has had a couple of heart attacks and looks more like Liza Minnelli than Rambo these days. Sorry guys but you're thinking with your fists instead of your brains. This guy is an international figure and has a crew of armed bodyguards that travel everywhere with him. If I so much as farted in the same room with him, the only thing left of me would be a small stain on the floor.

By now, the wimpy guys out there are probably making fucking excuses for her and thinking about how evolved I am to let her do what she needs to do to feel fulfilled or something stupid like that. Well guys, again I'm sorry but your panties are probably too tight. Because you see, I'm not that fucking sophisticated. Cheating is just fucking wrong and Priya is mine. She loves me. She doesn't love him. What they do together is just ... well it's just necessary.

By now the moderates among you are probably thinking about this in what seems like a logical way. Like me, they agree that cheating is wrong and I shouldn't have anything to do with it. But they realize that my relationship is with Priya, not with him. So by now, they're thinking that I should either give her an ultimatum or just kick her ass to the curb. I should either tell her that it's him or me; but not both or I should just dump her. And truly, most of those guys are probably thinking dump her.

They're thinking that no matter how much I love her, she's disrespected me and for both my own piece of mind and my self-respect, I need to get rid of her. Seriously, her having another man implies that I'm not enough for her. She threw the whole thing in my face. She didn't even respect me enough to cheat on me. That makes it seem like I wasn't important enough to her for her to bother covering it up. Then there's the future. What if I did make her stop or give her the big ultimatum? How the hell would I know if she had stopped? And how do I even know that sometime in the future she wouldn't just do it again?

At any rate, the only opinion that matters here is mine. This is after all, my life and my decision. Especially when you guys are all wrong...

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Tear Jerker / Cheating / First / School /