Cheaters Always Prosper: An Affair with Rhiannon Part 1


I’ve been in a relationship for a few years with my boyfriend. He’s a decent guy overall. I mean, he works, we have fun things to talk about together, the sex is decent, however, I’ve always wanted to cheat on him. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but there’s something about other guys’ smiles that catch my attention and still make me wonder what kind of faces they make when they’re first thrusting into my tight little pussy. It’s this fantasy that now has a life of its own, and I can’t help it any longer. 


The thought of other men’s hands being wrapped up in my long, black, hair, and pressing their lips to the base of my slender throat. Well, the very idea of it makes me squirm in my seat and become uncomfortably wet. I would love for a different man to wrap his strong hand around my neck, where he’d kissed me previously, applying a bit of pressure so that I could still breathe, but definitely understood that he had the upper hand in that moment. Then he’d kiss me on my forehead; a combination of the rough and romantic. 

I needed more than what I was already getting. I needed to cheat.

You see, my boyfriend just isn’t the rough, nor the romantic type. I had mentioned that we have decent sex – and we absolutely do – it’s just, well, the exact same thing every single time. It’s possible that some women would absolutely love the same routine of having their pussy eaten, then being asked to get on their knees and fucked with a thick, hot, dick from behind. Different, in this case, would be much, much better.


One night I was lying in bed with my phone. I decided that I should scroll through social media, but I didn’t find anything that was entertaining. Then I saw a post from you, and it reminded me of how funny, thoughtful, and damned sexy you were. I bit my plump bottom lip and decided to message you. 


That’s how it started: with a simple message that said, “I think you’re hot.” And it went from there. We began texting each other almost constantly. It was about little things at first, and then one day, I was texting you as I was getting out of the shower and thought I needed to snap a selfie of my perky tits to send you. My index finger and thumb pinched at my pink, puffy, nipple, and I took another picture. This one had a smug little smile as well. 


I loved sending you pictures. It gave me such a thrill that someone aside from boyfriend was admiring  me.


You text me back, telling me how badly you wanted my hard nipple between your teeth in your mouth for you to suck on it. I shivered, still fresh from the shower. Then I text back that you should absolutely come over as soon as you can. “What about your boyfriend?” you reminded me.


“It’s time to cheat,” I text you back. Your response was a simple winky face, so I knew you were down to help me.


If you love this story about cheating, you’ll love my friend Rayne’s blog about sex with her personal trainer.

If you cannot wait for part 2, check out the audio here.

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