The Quarantine vs. Your Affair

2 min read

photo: SexArt

Because it really is a versus.

All I want is to fuck mindlessly. All I want is to take my body and throw it out the window, straight into your bedroom. Straight to the place where you grab me at the doorway and fuck me against the wall.

Our escape from our real lives has transitioned into necessity, in time where we are barred… to our real lives.

The spotlight on my sexual discontent at home is blinding. That’s the risk you take when you build second, third, and fourth lives. You’ve almost forgotten the true measure of your first life. To be fair, both my husband and I are having affairs. However, for some reason, he seems relatively unfazed being chained to the house. There’s likely numerous reasons for this, but the one that seems to be fairly obvious is that my affairs carry slightly more emotional weight. My fault.

So, to those of us confined to our homes and to those of us sad we no longer have the escape of sports, gambling, or mindless sex: I give you the fantasy that lives in my head. The one that warms up my cold soul. The one that helps me escape for a brief second of the day. The one that gives me hope that we are all one and the same, excited for the day we can continue our lives; our second, third, and fourth lives. And the hope of future mindless moments.

I’m sitting on the hood of my car on a summer evening, parked outside a closed ballpark. The field lights are off. I’m sitting in silence as I pull out a smoke. I smoke one pack a year; it’s a phase I go through once a summer. I feel like being self destructive sometimes for the hell of it.

Come on baby, hunt for me.

I see your truck pull up beside me. You lower your music and take your time getting out. You tell me I should stop smoking, I tell you if you knew anything about me, you’d know I’m not in it for the long haul. I smile, invitingly. You hop on my hood with me. The weight of the car shifts in your direction. I laugh inside, I love my men big and burly.

Come on baby, kiss me.

Every meeting I have with you is like a movie scene. Everything slows down, excluding my heart. You can’t replicate the sweetness of something out of the ordinary. An escape from everything we are used to.

You smirk and tell me you cleaned out your backseat yesterday. You know just when I’m in the mood for cheap and cheerful. I slide off my hood first, my skirt hiked up, and just a thong underneath. My combat boots are still on from the rain earlier. I’ll keep them on in your car. I want your cock in me and my boots helping me grip on for dear life. I want you to fuck me, hard.

You open the car door like a gentleman, pushing your hand into my lower back as I lift myself into your backseat. You hop in and close the door. Your gaze on me resembles a tiger and his prey. I lift my bum off the seat as your hand comes closer to my pussy. I’m going down and you’re coming with me. Our combined breath steams the windows and we both begin to sweat. Your cock is already hard and my pussy equally wet. I take the palm of my hand and spit, I use it to cup your balls and caress as I beg you to put it in my mouth.

You deny my request and slip three fingers in my dripping pussy. As you pull out you grab your cock to slip it in. I want it, I need it. My head tilts back in pleasure. I fucking love it inside me. You keep your lips close to mine as you thrust in and out. Our foreheads pressed up together and eyes closed. There’s no more fresh air, all I breathe in and out is your breath. I have all of you in me as I feel myself climaxing.

I beg you to cum on my stomach. I want to see the cum dripping out of you. I want to feel it all over me.

This. This is a moment of happiness.

I’m right here with you.

We’re in this together.


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