February 8, 2011

An Introduction to Miss

by

MissintheMaking

In 2005 I cheated on my boyfriend

I fucked another man

Well, let's be honest, he wasn't a man as much as a boy really. A young, adoring, 20-year-old strapping buck of a male who idolized me.

Derek, my boyfriend, is the first relationship I've had that's lasted longer than a year. He's the only man I've lived with longer than a month. He is the reason why I moved 3,000 miles across the country.

In the beginning, our relationship was fun. We had crazy sex, and went out to the bars twice a week. After three years, things started to become more "grown up." We bought a new car, adopted a dog and a cat, and moved into a bigger apartment.

We acquired more bills and new responsibilities. Our sex life became mundane. Our stress levels rose and in turn, the excitement and adoration for one another deteriorated.

That's when I met Rick. We worked together at a small, family-owned garden shop. I was the new girl. He was the knowledgeable young boy who knew everything about plants and landscaping. Even though he was only 20, he had worked there for five years, and was an assistant manager.

I took to him immediately. It was initially his flora and fauna knowledge that attracted me.  He was so passionate about plants, a common interest about which Derek could care less.

He hung on my every word. He appreciated my opinions. He adored my thoughts. He admired my quirks, not to mention my body. He worshiped me, albeit in secret.... at first.

Rick and I saw each other almost every day at work and then one night when Derek was out of town, I invited him over for dinner.

Nothing happened that night (honestly!), but we both knew what my invitation could lead to and what it entailed.

We started spending more and more time together outside of work under the pretense of "hanging out with my girlfriends."

That night, the night my infidelity began, it was a cool, wet, fall evening.

Rick and I decided to go for a hike in the woods with a bottle of wine. Two of his most appealing traits: his appreciation for nature and his appreciation for liquor.

Derek scoffed at anything involving the great outdoors; his idea of hiking was a paved bike path. He also thought at 25, I needed to grow up, which meant, among other things, less drinking.

Slightly tipsy, Rick and I were literally frolicking in the forest, knocking the water from tree braches onto one another til we were both soaked and muddy.

Still under the illusion of a friendship, we started rough housing and somehow (giggle), we ended up on the ground.

Squealing like a little girl, I ran ahead and slipped on a patch of mud.

When he came to help me up, I kicked his foot out from under him and pulled him down next to me.

Panting, out of breath, I remember lying there thinking: "I could just get up. I could jut brush myself off, walk out of here, drive Rick home and go home myself."

But I knew that's not what was going to happen. That's probably part of the reason I was out of breath. Anticipation. I didn’t have to do what I did. But I wanted to.

It wasn't like I was going along with what Rick did to me. He was always very respectful of my relationship with Derek (well up until now).  It was up to me. I called the shots. I initiated the kiss. Oh, but it was more than just a kiss!

From the positions of lying next to each other, in one swift I-didn't-even-know-what-was-happening-to-me movement, I was on top of him. Drenched in rainwater, smeared with mud, my lips were hungrily groping for his.

His whole body was very receptive. He grabbed my ass and started grinding my pelvis so hard, like I was the first woman to initiate and take control of a mouth-to-mouth meeting.

The passion, the intensity building, all of it was thrilling. I sat up quickly to strip my shirt off, despite the cold. He pawed at my breasts, as if unable to believe this was really happening.

 With nimble fingers, I unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out of his boxers. And for the second time that evening, I hesitated. Not because of my moral dilemma, believe me. At this point, I was committed to this act of adultery. No, I was taken aback because of his size! All this time, I thought he'd been exaggerating when he said, "I'm Puerto Rican, and you know what that means..."

 He was not exaggerating.

Read  PART ii

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