The night I knew I was loved.

I fucked someone in the ass. No where near what I had planned for that day.

Normal pool gathering for a tuesday. Party a little bit. Then my Ex came over. Talked and waited for everyone else to leave, then walked back to his place. We talked. Reminisced. Snuggled. Maked out. Groped each other. Mostly his ass. Then stuck a finger up his ass. Then got lubed up and stuck my cock up his ass. He was glad that I didn't try to go for any front bits.

But anyways, we're like halfway through ass fucking and his dad comes home. Ever since the "J" incident, which he heard about, my ex's dad hasn't been too keen on seeing me again. So it was that if he came home, I was to sneak out a door. But my ex wasn't too keen on interupting our great ass fucking session. So the door to the bedroom was shut, locked and the key tossed behing the mattress. After the assfucking, about halfway through the fisting, the phone rang. One of our mutual friends. Apparently she was wandering around the second biggest city in the county, drunk off her ass, depressed about what was only explained as "My parents are assholes."

This very quickly went from a bad situation, to worse. As I wasn't suppose to be on the property of the man that was one hallway away playing New Super Mario Brothers Wii. A game which he's had for like four months and looked like he got maybe to the seventh world. I had that game for a weekend and beat it. But still a situation of if I walked passed, I could very well be spotted by a turned head. So my ex wanted me to go out the window. Fun. Dangerous. Just my type of night. Eventually he figured that I would probably get spotted anyways cuz the next room has a nice big window. So we did something ten times more daring. Walk straight out there and hope he doesn't see us. Which surprisingly worked. I had to duck behind a window for ten minuets while my ex got everything together, but it still worked out great. A quick ride and a peck on the cheek later, and I'm probably doing the same next week.

I would have gone along with her to see said mutual friend for support and whatnot, but he advised against it. I think it's because said mutual friend is almost best friends with another mutual friend for the remainder of this post I shall call M. M was there when the miscarriage happened. M held his hand when he was screaming on the bathroom floor, bleeding out so much that nothing could soak up everything. M was there listening when for three months straight, all he could complain about is me. And now my ex is back to me after so much pain and so much complaining. If there was any more of a hint that we were back together, in a more sexual sense, I'm not sure if he would ever hear the end of it.