Have you caught your partner watching porn? Have you caught her masturbating? Have you tried to reproduce the scene? Don’t miss this audio story by Karen Moan.
How to confess it? When I caught him I had to hide it, I had to look disgusted, surprised, I had to. Why? Well, I don’t know, I guess old ideal, old, old. I caught him arriving unexpectedly from a business dinner cut short by an unexpected stomach ache. So, when I opened the front door, everything was different. Some light was sensed in the living room, the doors of the hall and the hall closed, and from afar, from afar, moans. I was paralyzed, a block, I could not believe it. He was with someone in our house, in our living room. The mental paralysis, however, was not physical, my body moved automaton to the door, and I opened it slowly my relief was such that I sighed loudly, very loudly I suppose.
I was watching porn but not like someone who watches porn quietly from the couch. He was on the carpet in front of the television, half shirt, half pants and on his knees, leaning back, holding his cock like an offering towards the screen in which a woman with impossible curves seemed to swallow him. Like in those Japanese advertising screens that are in three or four dimensions. It was even pretty, very pretty. If I had not known my living room, the image would have become real, I would have seen that body on that generous cock that was offered.
My sigh / cry alerted him and everything fell apart like that house of cards that is held for very little. He looked at me overwhelmed and there, there, damn it! I made my disgusting face of disgust. And I still don’t know why, since instead of feeling disgusted, I felt like it. But I had to.
He fell apart just like the scene and then he wanted to get up, but the pants in between made him that trip that caused his ridiculous fall, which could also (or should) have become a moment of common laughter. And yet I closed the door and stormed into the room. Why? At that moment I immediately answered: because it is not offered to me in that way, so fucking sexy, kneeling, pig, half dressed.
Anyway, I felt jealous and excluded, and also, very, very horny. So for the next few days, weeks, my attitude was that of a dignified offended woman who, as soon as she could, would put several fingers in her pussy wishing, desiring her, that woman in three or four dimensions who was immensely beautiful and occupied our entire screen of TV. He wanted to fuck them both, but he couldn’t, couldn’t tell him. Was I embarrassed?
And another day, thanks to the unforeseen events of routine life, it was he who caught me. Dressed almost as she had seen “the other one,” in a tiny lingerie set that left everything out. I had gone to buy it two sizes smaller to replicate an impossible exuberance, but still, the effect worked for me. And he came in, when I was doing him in the gym, and he caught me looking at me in the mirror, imitating her, and he knew it, and he smiled, and I smiled. And then the laugh came, and after it, we saw each other, with that desire for that something that we thought we should hide, but no.
He began to unbutton his shirt and took it half off. I began … full text