It's just a phase. It's just a phase... I had to keep telling myself that in order to compartmentalize my shocking new love interest.
I had just recently confessed to my husband that I had stumbled into giving my deaf client Steven a blow job at the movie theater several weeks prior. I swore to my husband that it was completely unintended... I repeatedly shared how guilt-ridden I was after it was over... and I promised him that it would never happen again.
That apology was somewhat hypocritical, though, because I did not confess how I somewhat-willingly gave Steven head a second time in my car a few weeks after the theater incident... and I also did not confess how - just a few days prior, while we were all out together on a double date - I had very willingly done it a third time.
Despite that descent into repeated indiscretions, though, my attempts to convince myself that my sexual experimentation was just a phase actually had nothing to do with Steven - rather, it was his girlfriend Cassidy.
I had never been with a woman before; in fact, I had always found the idea to be quite revolting. However, when she made out with me in the midst of openly giving my husband a blow job in the backseat of our car, I didn't resist... and when she was done, and transferred his cum to me tongue-to-tongue, she awakened forbidden feelings in me that I hadn't known existed.
As nervewracking as it had been to tell my husband about Steven, though, it felt even more risky to admit to him my taboo longings for Cassidy. At the same time, he certainly had seemed to enjoy watching us kiss, and he certainly was satisfied by her oral skills - the cum in her stomach could prove that - so I figured that my safest route to experiment with her would be to include him too.
A few days after the backseat dare that led to my husband's cock entering another woman's mouth for the first time since we'd been married, I tried to casually introduce the idea of seeing her again: "So... I was wondering about inviting Cassidy over for dinner. I know you two had quite the interesting first impression the other night, but she's a really sweet girl..."
As if he'd been waiting for me to initiate such a conversation, my husband quickly interrupted me and spilled out what had apparently been on his mind for days: "I can't believe you made out with her."
I wasn't sure how to read the inflection in his voice: Was he mad? Impressed? Suspicious? Feeling slightly embarrassed and uneasy, I put the attention back on him: "Yeah, well so did you!"
"True," he shrugged. "But you..." His voice trailed off.
"What?" I asked him. "What... do you think I never kissed a girl before??"
Perplexed, he furrowed his brows at me: "Huh? Umm... you've specifically told me that you never had..."
Now I was the one who interrupted him: "Well, you're right, I never did." An explosion of lust suddenly pushed a shocking stream of additional words out of my mouth: "Until Cassidy. Kissing her was freaking amazing. Her lips were so plump and soft, her tongue was so perfect..."