4am at the Ritz-Calton

One would think by age 30 you would stop justifying infidelity. Knowing he was in town I sent a text his way, had caught my current boyfriend in a lie and I knew my ex, the one I followed around the entire year prior to this one would be drunk, awake thanks to either key bumps or adderal and of course he responded right away. He is waiting outside the lobby for me, laughing, smiling, pulling my ponytail and watching me walk in front of him, so I lead the way. Into the elevator his hands are all over me, legs around his waist as we stumble into his room and directly into the bathroom. We fall into the bathtub, he’s behind me unbuttoning my shorts as im on my knees bent over turning on the water. Clasps on my bra are ripped away as I’m picked up, turned around and top of him. It was fast, it was furious. He gets up and heads to the bed, I shut the bathroom door behind him, find my clothes, get dressed, walk out the door and onto the elevator. I pull back into my driveway at home, walk over to the couch, kiss my wonderful fiance’ on the forehead as he smiles whispering in my ear, “I am so sorry baby, glad you made it back home, let’s go to bed”.

bolinpsychedin is a wonderful lady, despite the content of this post—I’ve always maintained that (you’re just going to have to trust me).