I twirl her hair between my fingers

I twirl her hair between my fingers. It is as black as the night sky and curls around my index finger just so. My mind swims with visions of cheap motels, thin walls, and my hand inside her.

I loved it.

Not that I loved her. She was nothing more than a distraction— a means of getting even. My dearly beloved husband is convinced that he is the only one who can cheat in this relationship but there I was, proving him wrong.

Her hair is coarse and part of me is convinced I should throw it into the fire to extinguish the evidence.

But then I remember how tight she was and changed my mind.

How loud she was, my little whore, that she wanted everyone on the floor to know. I remember the arch of her back, how her breasts pressed against mine, how her hips jerked accordingly to my thrusts, how wet and ready she was.

And I remember pulling a strand of her pubic hair when I pulled my digits outs.

I twirl her hair and sniff it. Too bad it doesn’t smell like sex anymore; it would have made the room lovelier.

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Rated M for obvious reasons. This was just one of my little experiments so don’t be surprised if you dun like it.