On CL: Oh Garret
alabegonz
Oh, Garrett...
It's been well over three years since we shared a fun, exciting and thrilling night together.
It was shared with a ton of other random people on one of those party buses. You were there for your wife's brother's bachelor party. (Or maybe it was your own brother.) It was the stripper bus and we almost kissed. Almost because I pulled away because my husband's sister was on the bus and I was terrified about the family drama I was going to start and... I regret it.
I regret it so much.
I remember so much about you; your warm skin, your hard shoulders and chest, your kind sweet eyes and shy smile. Your calm demeanor and your very old cell phone. :) And your beautiful dark brown hair. You were not quite 6', I think, but honestly we spent the majority of our time sitting next to each other on the bus, thigh pressing into thigh, your hand wandering over my body, feeling the curves.
I regret not meeting you fully, in that moment, in the dark, alone on a bus.
And now I read stupid CL postings about men wanting to have affairs since they can't leave their wives but want the spark, the danger, the connection, the sex. I can't blame them, I did the same thing when I had to. But meeting online just doesn't work. I want to meet in person. I want to meet YOU again in person. Maybe we'll be with our kids (do you have kids now?) at the zoo and recognize each other! We'll strike up a conversation and exchange numbers since our kids need playdates (no fucking kid needs a playdate! Ever!) and maybe we'll text each other. Maybe we'll meet each other for happy hour or late night drinks or a movie or dancing or a walk through Forest Park or a romantic fuck at an airport hotel.
Oh, Garrett.
You still supply the best remedy to my same ole same ole masturbation fantasies. I remember you and the heat kicks in.
Fuck. I need an affair.
Bad.
It's been well over three years since we shared a fun, exciting and thrilling night together.
It was shared with a ton of other random people on one of those party buses. You were there for your wife's brother's bachelor party. (Or maybe it was your own brother.) It was the stripper bus and we almost kissed. Almost because I pulled away because my husband's sister was on the bus and I was terrified about the family drama I was going to start and... I regret it.
I regret it so much.
I remember so much about you; your warm skin, your hard shoulders and chest, your kind sweet eyes and shy smile. Your calm demeanor and your very old cell phone. :) And your beautiful dark brown hair. You were not quite 6', I think, but honestly we spent the majority of our time sitting next to each other on the bus, thigh pressing into thigh, your hand wandering over my body, feeling the curves.
I regret not meeting you fully, in that moment, in the dark, alone on a bus.
And now I read stupid CL postings about men wanting to have affairs since they can't leave their wives but want the spark, the danger, the connection, the sex. I can't blame them, I did the same thing when I had to. But meeting online just doesn't work. I want to meet in person. I want to meet YOU again in person. Maybe we'll be with our kids (do you have kids now?) at the zoo and recognize each other! We'll strike up a conversation and exchange numbers since our kids need playdates (no fucking kid needs a playdate! Ever!) and maybe we'll text each other. Maybe we'll meet each other for happy hour or late night drinks or a movie or dancing or a walk through Forest Park or a romantic fuck at an airport hotel.
Oh, Garrett.
You still supply the best remedy to my same ole same ole masturbation fantasies. I remember you and the heat kicks in.
Fuck. I need an affair.
Bad.
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