Regret

“When he got tired sucking my nipples and squeezing

my breasts…”

“He slowly traced his lips back up my neck before capturing my lips in another deeply kiss.”

“I responded to him with equal passion after a few moments. I felt he gently parted my thighs, and before I could realize what he was going to do next, he roughly thrust his hard dick into my pussy hole.”

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as shock and pain overwhelmed me. My whole body tensed, and for a moment, I could barely breathe. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to process what was happening, caught between fear, confusion, and the unfamiliar intensity of the moment.

His expression immediately changed when he realized what had happened.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I didn’t know you were still a virgin. I should have asked. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

I could only stare at him, overwhelmed by everything I was feeling. The pain, the embarrassment, and the sudden realization that neither of us had expected things to go this far.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to steady my trembling voice. “Please… continue.”

He searched my eyes for a moment, making sure I truly meant it before gently taking my hand in his.

He remained still for a moment, watching my expression carefully. When he saw that I was no longer hurt, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

I nodded, taking a slow breath as I held his gaze. A soft moan escaped my lips as the room fell quiet, and for a moment, neither of us said another word. He pulled me closer, and I closed my eyes, letting the tension between us slowly fade. Quiet gasps escaped me as I surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

"That night, I allowed him fucked me repeatedly in a different positions he wanted even though it was supposed to be a night I spent with my husband.”

“When we reached our climax together one final time.”

he captured my lips in a deep kiss agaiin before he slowly withdrawing himself from me.

He held my gaze, my heart pounding as the tension between us grew stronger. Whatever doubts had filled my mind moments ago seemed to disappear, replaced by a strange sense of closeness I could no longer deny.

For a while, we simply stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of us wanting to break the fragile silence between us.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was strange how peaceful everything suddenly felt after a night filled with so much confusion.

I knew I should have been thinking about my husband, about the marriage I had promised to protect, and about the reasons I had come to this place in the first place.

But in that moment, all I could feel was the warmth of his arms around me.

He gently brushed his fingers through my hair, his touch unexpectedly tender. Neither of us spoke. Perhaps there were no words that could explain what had happened between two strangers who were never supposed to meet.

I slowly opened my eyes and stared into the darkness.

A strange heaviness settled in my chest.

I knew that when morning came, everything would feel different.

I would have to leave this room, return to my life, and face the husband I had once believed was the only man I would ever love.

Yet somehow, I already knew that this night had changed something inside me.

And no matter how hard I tried, I knew I would never be able to forget him or the night we shared.

Morning came quietly.

I slowly opened my eyes, only to be met by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. For a few seconds, I remained still, confused about where I was. Then the memories of the previous night came rushing back.

My entire body felt heavy and sore, as though every muscle was protesting after the long night. Even the slightest movement brought a dull ache, particularly around the sensitive area between my thighs. I instinctively shifted more carefully, wincing at the lingering tenderness.

A cool breeze slipped through the slightly open window, brushing against my skin and making me shiver. The crisp morning air of Tagaytay felt completely different from the warmth of the room, heightening my awareness of every ache and uncomfortable sensation.

I pulled the blanket closer around myself and took a slow breath, trying to ignore the soreness as my thoughts slowly returned to everything that had happened.

I turned my head.

The stranger was still asleep beside me, completely unaware that I was already awake. His peaceful expression made me hesitate.

I stared at him for a moment, my mind filled with conflicting emotions.

What had I done?

My heart sank as thoughts of my husband returned.

I knew I couldn't stay here forever. Eventually, I would have to get up, leave this room, and return to the life waiting for me.

But for a few more moments, I remained there in silence, listening to his steady breathing while the morning breeze continued to drift through the room.

I didn't know what would happen after I walked out that door.

I only knew that nothing would ever feel quite the same again.

I slowly pushed the blanket aside and sat on the edge of the bed. I paused for a moment, gathering the courage to stand despite the lingering soreness in my body.

Carefully, I got dressed, making as little noise as possible.

Before leaving, I glanced back at him one last time.

He was still asleep.

For some reason, seeing him like that made my chest tighten. I wanted to say goodbye, but I couldn't bring myself to wake him. Perhaps it was better this way. Whatever happened between us belonged to the night, and maybe leaving without a word would make it easier to forget.

I quietly picked up my things and walked toward the door.

My hand rested on the doorknob.

I hesitated.

Then, with one final breath, I opened the door and stepped outside.

I stepped out into the quiet morning, hugging my arms around myself as the cool Tagaytay air brushed against my skin.

I walked slowly toward the main road, glancing around for a ride. A few people were already waiting along the roadside, while cars passed by one after another.

After a few minutes, I spotted a taxi approaching.

I raised my hand, and the driver slowed down and pulled over.

For a moment, I just stood there.

My hand remained on the door handle, but I hesitated before opening it. Part of me wanted to go home immediately, to leave everything that had happened behind and pretend it had only been a dream.

But another part of me was afraid of what I would feel once I was alone again.

I took a deep breath.

Then I opened the door and quietly got into the back seat.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

I gave him the address of my condominium.

As the taxi pulled away, I looked out the window. The familiar view of Tagaytay slowly disappeared behind me.

I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes.

I was going home.

But somehow, I knew I wasn't returning as the same person who had arrived the night before.

The moment I finally arrived at my condo, I felt as though the weight I had been carrying all morning became heavier.

I stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind me.

For a few seconds, I simply stood there, staring at the familiar room.

Everything looked exactly the same.

The furniture was in its usual place. The curtains were slightly open, allowing the morning light to spill into the room.

I slowly slipped my bag from my shoulder and walked toward the table beside my bed. I placed it there without much thought, then stood there with my hands resting at my sides.

I let out a long breath.

Home.

I should have felt relieved.

Instead, I felt strangely empty.

My mind immediately returned to everything that had happened in Tagaytay. I tried to push the memories away, but the harder I tried, the more they seemed to follow me.

I shook my head.

“Stop,” I whispered to myself.

I didn't want to think about it anymore.

I walked toward the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Turning on the shower, I stood beneath the warm water and closed my eyes.

For the first time since leaving the resthouse, I allowed myself to breathe.

The water ran down my face and shoulders, washing away the coldness of the morning. I stayed there longer than I intended, hoping that somehow, the warmth would calm the storm inside my head.

But it didn't.

My thoughts were still there.

And most of all, the fear of what would happen next.

I pressed a hand against my forehead and sighed.

I had come home.

But instead of feeling like I had finally escaped from the night before, I realized that I had brought everything with me.

And no matter how long I stayed under that shower, I couldn't wash away what I was feeling.