100 WAYS TO SIN
He came first this time, groaning deeply as he spilled inside me, and the feeling pushed me over the edge right after him.
We spent the rest of the weekend like that — talking, cooking simple meals together, reading on the porch, and falling into bed whenever the tension became too much. We had sex in the shower, on the couch, against the kitchen counter. Each time felt different, more familiar, like we were learning each other’s bodies and rhythms. The guilt was still there, especially at night when I lay in his arms thinking about what we were risking, but it was quieter here, easier to push aside when it was just the two of us.
On Sunday afternoon as we were getting ready to leave, he pul
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