Love, Lies and Punishment (Part 7 of Series)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 47: One Day at a Time
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 47: One Day at a Time - The 7th story in my Infidelity series about how I cheated on my BF, got involved with the guy I cheated with for 6.5 months and what started as a mistake, became an affair and then slowly turned into my loss of self and degradation. This 7th story takes place about 7 weeks after I first cheated. Be sure to read the previous stories for this to make sense.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual True Story Cheating BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Rough Spanking Anal Sex Cream Pie Enema Exhibitionism Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Squirting Water Sports Public Sex
I settled into the hot water and leaned back into him. His arms wrapped around me while his hands caressed my ribs, my stomach, the underside of a breast. His movements were not quite sexual, the kind of touch that is worse because it is not asking. We talked, we relaxed, and I became so comfortable in the water and his arms.
“I have really enjoyed this evening, the past two months,” he said. “All this time with you. This is the happiest I have been in as long as I can remember. I want you to hear that without turning it into a cross-examination.”
My heart missed and then jumped into my throat. Amber had said it, that I was happier than she could remember. I loved him. The sentence sat in my mouth. Give it to him, the night said. Not yet, the coward said. Soon.
I turned and kissed him. Looked at his eyes.
“What are we doing and where are we going?”
“I am not sure. I do not want it to end. That is the only part I know.”
I kissed him again. “What about Mike. This would destroy him if he found out. I am not being dramatic. It would.”
“Then he can never find out.” He kissed me. “What do you want?”
“I do not know.” A lie, and also not. “I want this. I want him not to be hurt. I want to be a person who can hold both, and I cannot.”
“Then we take it one day at a time. You will have to get used to backyard dates, jackets, and me.”
“Bossy.”
“Happy.”
We made out, and his hands roamed. His cock hardened against my ass, against the base of the plug, and I felt the double pressure and almost said it then. I got lost in the wine, and the heat, and him. I turned and straddled him, reaching down; I guided him into me and sank onto his cock, face to face, the stretch familiar and enhanced by what was already in my ass. I felt so full it was obscene. I gasped against his mouth and started to move.
“God, you are tight like this,” he said.
“Do not talk. Or talk. I do not know.”
His hands slid back and found the base. He stilled and then smiled. “I wondered why you were moving and acting strange all night. That is a new one.”
I blushed and nodded. “I bought it. It’s bigger, and I wanted—” I stopped. Not yet. “I wanted to see if I could.”
“You really like it, don’t you, you dirty slut? Sitting at my table with this in your ass. Dancing with it. Lying to me about the heels.”
More blush. The truth, finally. “Yes. I like it. I am a liar with good posture.”
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