I went home with him but resisted having sex with him. I couldn’t, I told him. It was too painful for me the next day. He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. “I know, baby.” I knew this person, the one I was in love with, cared about me, even if he couldn’t say it.
I asked him why we couldn’t date. If I cared about him and he cared about me, what was the problem? He told me that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I called bullshit. I told him I had always been so patient with him and never pressured him. “Britni. Stop. I don’t want to talk about these things. These are not things I talk about.” I pushed harder, crying harder. “Fine. You want to know why? You hurt me. I can’t get over the fact that you dated The Redneck, of all people, a week after breaking up with me. I just can’t forgive you yet.”
But it’s been 4 months! I know I made a mistake, but haven’t I kind of already been punished for that? He fucking raped me. That should be enough proof right there that I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. I told him that he didn’t have to forgive me yet, but that we could still try again. Forgiveness can take time, and that’s okay. But that’s no reason to not work on building back our trust and giving our relationship another chance.
He kissed me again and led me to bed. He spooned me from behind and kissed the back of my neck. He whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t see my face, but he could feel my body being racked by sobs. I cried, there in his bed, with him whispering “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over and over again.
Despite the sadness, we were both naked and there was no ignoring the erection I could feel against my ass or the wetness that had dripped down my thighs. I was still crying a little bit, but pushed my ass into him and his hands found my breasts. He pinched my nipples and I moaned softly. He easily slid into me. We had been kissing passionately all night and I was so wet that my juices had almost reached my knees. We didn’t stay in this position long, as he flipped me over onto my back. “I want to look at you.” He kissed me and we had a kind of sex that we had never had before. It was slow, it was sweet, and it was gentle. He wiped away a tear that had found it’s way down my cheek. He kissed me again.
After fucking like that for a while, I was flipped over onto my stomach. He held himself over me, fucking me harder now. I was moaning loudly, and he pushed my face into the bed to try and keep his roommates from hearing me. With him fucking me like this, his balls slamming into my clit, I came. I came hard. I came, screaming, shaking, and crying all at the same time. While I was still writhing and grinding against the bed from my orgasm, he pulled out of me and released all over my back.
He collapsed on top of me before even wiping his cum from my back. We laid like that for a while before he cleaned me up and crawled back into bed with me. We resumed the spooning position, and I quietly cried myself to sleep. He was crying, too.
I'm Britni, a snarky bitch and generally awesome person. I write about sex, love, and bullshit. If sex-positivity, discussions about BDSM and kink, queer issues, and topics that are completely inappropriate by society's standards make you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.
Good Vibes 
7 Comments
Love is a beautiful, powerful, painful thing…
I'm so glad he said it to you.
((you))
peace…
oh, god…. this brings up so much in my heart, and I'm sending hugs.
Oh Britni
So it sounds like things could work out for you two. I certainly hope they can.
I hope things work out for you! What about the best friend?
dang. it's scary how we not only share the same name but the same story. something eerily similar happened before my current s.o. and myself finally began "officially" dating again. i know exactly the pain you're feeling right now, though my memories have obviously been dulled over time and with my relationship reshaping. *hugs x999*