I knew it was wrong the moment it happened, but that didn’t stop it from unfolding in a way I couldn’t take back. It wasn’t planned, nor was it some deliberate act of rebellion. It was simply a moment— a single, electric moment that spiraled into something I couldn’t control.
Her name was Emily. She was our babysitter. Twenty-three, fresh out of college, with a bright smile and an energy that seemed to light up every room she entered. She had been with us for months, looking after our toddler, Ruby, every Wednesday night when James and I would sneak off for our weekly date.
She was good at her job— great, even. But it wasn’t just her skill with Ruby that had drawn me in. It was her. The way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her dreams, her hopes.
The way her breasts stood proud whenever she was without a bra, her bouncy ass. I had always noticed her, always been aware of her presence in a way that felt... complicated.
It started innocently enough, as these things often do.
One evening, James had a work emergency and had to cancel our date. I decided to stay home but told Emily she could still come over, thinking it might be nice to have some help with Ruby while I unwound from a stressful day.
Emily arrived in her usual cheerful way, dressed casually in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. I remember feeling a flicker of something when I saw her— a warmth in my chest that I couldn’t quite place, but I could understand the reaction from my clit. I shook it off, attributing it to exhaustion or the relief of not being alone for the evening.
Ruby was particularly fussy that night, and Emily handled her with ease, her patience never faltering. I watched as she cradled my daughter, singing softly to her, and I couldn’t help but admire her. There was something so natural about her, so effortlessly kind and warm.
Once Ruby was finally asleep, Emily joined me in the living room. I poured us each a glass of wine, thinking it would be a nice way to unwind. We sat on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing— her college days, her plans for the future, my experiences as a mom.
It was during one of those lulls in conversation that it happened.
She was laughing at something I had said, her head tilted back, her eyes crinkling at the corners. I couldn’t look away. The soft glow of the lamp was on her, and for a moment, all I could think about was how beautiful she looked.
Before I knew it, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
She stopped laughing, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. “Oh, um... thank you,” she said, her voice soft.
I should have left it there. I should have laughed it off, changed the subject, anything to steer us back to safe ground. But I didn’t.
“I mean it,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “You’re... stunning.”
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. The air between us felt charged, heavy with something unspoken that we were both aware of.
“You’re beautiful too,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was me, maybe it was her. All I know is that one moment we were sitting there, and the next, our lips were pressed together, soft and hesitant at first, then deeper, more urgent.
It was like a dam had broken, all the feelings I hadn’t even realized I was suppressing flooding to the surface. Her hands were on me, my fingers tangled in her hair, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt truly seen, truly desired, in the way I craved.
We stumbled to the bedroom, our kisses growing more heated, our touches more desperate. I didn’t think about James, didn’t think about the consequences. All I could think about was her— her lips, her skin, the way she made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
We ended up fucking that night. Twice, matter of fact.
The next morning, I woke up to a tangle of sheets and a whirlwind of emotions. Emily was gone, having slipped out before Ruby woke up. I sat there in bed, staring at the ceiling, the memory of what happened vivid and intoxicating.
That evening, after Ruby was asleep, I sat James down in the living room. My hands trembled as I clutched my mug of tea, the words catching in my throat.
“James,” I began, my voice shaky. “I need to tell you something.”
He looked at me, his brow furrowing in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Something happened... with Emily.”
His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as if to ask something, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I... I kissed her,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “And it didn’t stop there.”
For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, to my utter surprise, his lips twitched into a faint smile.
“You slept with her?” he asked, his tone not angry, but curious.
I nodded, my face burning with a mix of embarrassment and relief. “Yes,” I whispered. “I... I don’t know what came over me. It just happened.”
Instead of the anger or betrayal I had braced myself for, James leaned forward, his eyes glinting with something I hadn’t expected. “What was it like?” he asked, his voice low and eager.
I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Come on,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Tell me. I want to know.”
“You’re not mad?” I asked, my heart pounding.
He shook his head. “Mad? No. Intrigued? Yes. So... tell me everything.”
“Fuck, I love you!” I laughed, kissing him before I began telling him everything, not leaving a single detail out.
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