A Confession

I have long suffered with my own lack of morals, my lack of guilt when I do things I shouldn’t. I thought that girl was history, but apparently she’s not. She came out last weekend.

The past me would fuck for fun, would welcome new sexual experiences then mentally high five myself for having a bloody good time. But that means I have done many things that people should hate me for, and hate me even more for getting away with.

I’ll give you an idea of what a bad girl I have been. All the girls went on a hen weekend, I ended up in bed with the best man and the groom. I went to the wedding two weeks later. No one but the three of us knows about this. But this situation was long ago and isn’t what I am writing about here, it’s just to illustrate a point. I can face my friends getting married and still look her in the eye knowing her now husband came all over my chest, without any feeling of remorse.

Is this normal?

Situations like this have made me question whether I am a good person. For there have been many. The stupidest thing is I never seek these situations, I don’t actively go for men or women in relationships, in fact I steer well clear. For some reason if I get to close, or too open with my flirty personality, these people see something they want. Maybe that sounds a bit egotistical to you, but it has been said by my friends that I have a sexual aura that people are drawn to. I am the go to girl for couples who want three way fun, for men seeking something extra outside their relationship, for girls who want to test the water with another girl. All of which I said no to.  I don’t understand why this happens to me, does it happen to everyone?

But when a unique opportunity arises, I just cant say no, no matter how wrong I know it is.

I quit drinking, thinking that my bad decisions were due to alcoholically loosening my morals. It didn’t work. Then I had to deal with the fact I couldn’t even blame it on just being a slut when I was drunk.

So instead of feeling guilty and remorseful, I beat myself up for not feeling those things. Eventually, I just accepted it, because I couldn’t beat myself up forever. I couldn’t keep thinking I was a bad person forever. So now I don’t really think about it at all. Especially because I thought that side of me was long gone.

Onto the point in hand. This is, after all, a confession.

I confess I wound up with two men. One of which is dating a good friend. I was invited out by one of my trio, and naturally assumed she would be there anyway because we were all in the same social group with her boyfriend. She wasn’t. When we all staggered back to the nearest house, her boyfriends house, she couldn’t be arsed to come out in the end when invited. We carried on drinking. Others left, and then there were three.

The fun moved from being platonic to downright dirty when he (her boyfriend) started kissing the other guy. Something I had never witnessed first hand before, I was instantly turned on. God why did he have to be dating my best friend, this is my most perfect situation!

They continued to wind me up, I was writhing on the sofa, trying my best just to stay out of it but by this point I was sopping wet and they hadn’t even touched me. But why didn’t I just leave? Why does my vagina have to take over at this point? I could have walked away and it would have only ever been just a bit of drunken fun where nothing really happened except two guys getting a bit gay.

But I stayed. Before I knew it I had two pairs of hands moving over my clothed body. One was biting my neck, the other holding my legs open while hands moved over me. Being controlled by two men, I literally couldn’t resist. It taps into places I have no control over.

But resist I did. Mostly. Our clothes stayed on, their fingers got a bit sticky, their dicks stayed in their straining pants.

I would have gone all the way, but I had been here before. I had already made the mistake of fucking a guy my best friend was involved with and here I was again, the same girl friend, different guy. I’m a bad, bad person.

Last time I got caught and came clean. I don’t know why she still chose to be my friend, but now I wish she hadn’t or I wouldn’t have done this to her, again. When I betrayed her the first time, I only felt bad about getting caught. I faced the music and gave her all the facts fully expecting to lose a friend over it, but I didn’t.

She doesn’t know what happened this time. Hopefully she will never know. I don’t plan on telling her. I don’t want to be forgiven. I don’t want to own up.

Is it selfish of me to think, what she doesn’t know can never hurt her?

Is it selfish of me to not want to ruin someones wedding day by keeping our dirty little secret?

It was selfish of me to do those things in the first place.

In hindsight, I find myself reflecting on our friendship, if I really cared about her would I do this in the first place? The hardest part to confess is, no, I don’t think we are best friends any more. I think that ended when she caught me the first time, I don’t think she has ever really trusted me since. I am by no means saying this as an excuse.

Recently I have found friends and places where I can be accepted for who I am when it comes to my sexuality. They are separate from my vanilla friends (hopefully not forever, but for now). I can be honest and other people can invite me into relationships openly. Now that I have found somewhere where I am allowed to be this slutty, I don’t have to put myself into these situations with my vanilla friends. And contrary to my vanilla life, I am cautious and sensible.

I could have been patient, because through my new lifestyle chances are I could get lucky and have two men loving and abusing me in every way I want in the future.

Now I’m writing this I find myself feeling guilty about my (second base) threesome. But probably not nearly as bad as I should feel though.

And it’s not because of what I have done to her, it’s because of the new friends I have. I don’t want to admit this to you, any of you who know me as you do now, because I feel like I have become a better person because of you. Because I feel like I have let you down, and myself. Now that I have found people who I feel comfortable with I fear they will think less of me because of mistakes like these.

Reading this back, I don’t think this comes across as even slightly remorseful, maybe even gloating in places. But there in lies my conundrum, it has never been in my nature to feel this way, so I can only portray myself honestly, even if I sound like a bitch.

I wrote this because someone dear to me said:

“Are you sure you don’t want to confess?”

My reply was,

“I’m afraid you will think negatively of me and the punishment is easier to bear.”

Turns out being a coward about confessing was hardest to bear.

Punish me for what I have done because I cant keep punishing myself for being a bad person.

On that last sentence I finally shed a tear, I wish I knew if it was for being the worlds worst friend or just because I feel like I’ve bared all. But thanks for getting it out of me.

4 thoughts on “A Confession

  • I could have written the first part of this post. I have always been the exact same way. Very promiscuous and able to be so without regret or remorse.
    What I struggle with is finding a way to reconcile being married and completely in love with your spouse but still able to not only imagine being with another person but knowing that you are fully capable of doing so without missing a beat in your relationship….
    Like kissing-the-spouse-with-taste-of-another-still-on-your-lips not missing a beat.

  • I think your confession is brave and I, for one, wouldn’t ever think less of a friend for telling me their past. Everyone has skeletons. Big hugs from me xxx

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