I am pretty sure I’m starting an affair with my neighbor. Then Billy said she was at her mom’s place on Long Island and that they’re separated.
I don’t know them well, but I see them in the elevator a few times a week, and at the bar across the street now and then. Last night, I went to the bar across from our apartment building and Billy was there. Erin wasn’t there, but I just assumed she was in the bathroom.
I get home from work and take a shower before dinner. It’s a little odd because our vibe feels sort of warm and boyfriendly — but we haven’t had sex, we’re not dating, he is still married, and I’m not particularly interested.
There’s been so much build up that I come just from this. After I come from the dry-humping, I need a little break, so I get on top of him and take my shirt and bra off. He tries to bring my body up so I’m sitting on his face, but I still need a break. He has a nice dick, not as big as I thought it was, but a hard and confident cock.
Our neighborhood has one restaurant that I love so much — I’d literally go there with anyone just for this one pasta dish. He writes back instantly that he’ll take care of the reservation.
I’m not very high maintenance: I like to be clean, wear a little perfume, no makeup. I’m lucky because I’m tall, thin, and pretty “chesty” — guys tend to think they’re into me and then, blah, who knows. We meet at the restaurant because Billy’s coming straight from work.
where I could predict exactly what Billy would text, do, wear, and eat, I find this guy original and refreshing.
I’m in bed when he texts: “Having a good time with friends?
My friends are hosting a lunch and I’m helping out with the prep work.
I lie in bed wondering what the fuck is happening here.
Need a lot more therapy before crossing that bridge.