It wasn't intentional. It was never supposed to happen. We'd known each other for eight years give or take. Certainly there was the friendly flirting and maybe, if I'm being completely honest, some of it skirted the razor's line between appropriate and inappropriate; but the line was always there, the unspoken limit of where either of us was willing to take it.
I suppose that one venture into the taboo land would have been forgivable. But the line was obliterated; it was deconstructed in a way that would never allow for repair. I say that because it wasn't simply crossed; we didn't just stumble past the line, only to retreat to our previously safe ground, shocked and ashamed with ourselves at the realization of where we were suddenly standing. It was crossed with intent, whatever paltry hesitation shown by either of us was dismissed without a second thought; the overwhelming allures of our furtive affair clouding our minds and fueling our passion.
I suppose that's why I'm committing this to the page, just my own pathetic attempt at justification and forgiveness. No, justification is wrong. There is no justification for what we did, for what I did. I guess I'm hoping that if I can put it down in print, not muddling it like I will when I confess in the spoken word, maybe then it will be a touch clearer and if there is any forgiveness to be found, this will help me earn it. Enough of my blathering; let my sordid confessions begin...
It was a sweltering July night. We'd thrown our annual summer party. There had been food and drink all day long and into the night. The pool was occupied starting at 10am until the last person gave it up for the night and left, which was usually well after midnight. It was about 11:30 and the bonfire was roaring. It didn't matter if the temperature was already in the mid 80's and humid; when we partied, we had a raging fire. Terri had opened a cooler to find the Sam Adam's were out.
"Don't worry," I called out to her, "I'll be back in a few with more. We have another couple of cases in the fridge in the garage." I turned and walked away, a fresh trickle of sweat retreating from my auburn ponytail, down my neck and back, disappearing into my black tank top. Opening the garage door I flicked the lights on and walked to the refrigerator in back. I took out two twelve packs of Sam's and set them on the counter to the right of the fridge. As I shut the door, the lights went out.
"Shit," I barked into sudden blackness. Gathering my bearings I turned to grab the beer, planning to make my way through the well known garage in the darkness. As my hands came to rest on the beer, I felt two strong hands grip my waist.
"Aiyeee," I yelped in surprise, guessing as my heart rate started to slow that my husband must have been the one to douse the lights in an effort to surprise me.
Gripping his wrists I turned to face him. "You could give a girl a heart attack that way," I softly scolded him. He didn't answer right away. My heart rate again began to climb as I realized the wrists I was gripping were familiar, but certainly not my husbands.
"You looked so good all day. It felt great to have you on my shoulders earlier in the pool," returned the deep and silky voice of my cousin-in-law Roy. After lunch we had a game of chicken in the pool. The only caveat was that couples couldn't be teams. Roy and I had kicked ass, toppling all the other couples until it was my husband Jim, and his partner Kara, one of our neighbors. It was a good battle. Kara inadvertently ripped my bikini top off in the beginning of the bout, but we had the last laugh when I dumped her from Jim's shoulders.
"Roy, what are you doing?" I asked as he drew me towards him. He was standing so close I could feel his warm, beer scented breath on my face. My hands were still on his wrists and his hands were still locked on my waist, holding firm the small area of exposed skin between my tank top and my shorts.
"Your skin was like silk on my shoulders," he muttered, pulling me tight against him.
I could feel his hard erection between us, pressing into me as he held me tightly against his body.
"Roy, I think you had a little too much sun today," I replied, my lips so close to his I could almost taste him. My knees were starting to buckle under the intense sensuality of the moment. I knew it was wrong, that our history of risqué flirting was on the brink of becoming something else, but it felt so good.
"Tell me to stop Kirsten," he said, a second before I felt his mouth on mine. This wasn't a "happy birthday" kiss, which could maybe graze the lips when planted near the front of your cheek. This was a passionate, lust driven assault on my lips. I felt his tongue enter my mouth, forcefully seeking my own to duel with, and I gave it to him. As we kissed he undid the button on my cut-off shorts, allowing them to slide down to my ankles.
"Roy...I...please..." I moaned as his hands roamed my exposed ass.
"You what Kirsten? Please what?" he teased, his hands delicately kneading the globes of my ass.
"This is wrong," I panted, wanting him to stop, and praying that he wouldn't, "we can't..."
"We can," he insisted, his hands leaving me to unzip his own shorts.
In the darkness of the garage my lust grew enflamed. This Adonis like specimen of a man was standing before me, slowly stroking his steel like cock, tempting me with it.
"Put it away Roy...this is wrong and you know it..." I falsely pleaded. Standing before him with my shorts pooled around my ankles, and my tank top bunched just below my breasts I felt like a cheating whore, and it felt exhilarating.
Roy stepped in close again, his throbbing cock sandwiched between us, pressing into my exposed stomach. His strong hands again found my ass, pulling me against him.
"Just say the word Kirsten...just say no..."
