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Making A Very Long Story Merely Long

By on December 24, 2012
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A66 long story2

At some point she had lost her clothes and he had remained clad in his boxers. She straddled him and slowly rocked over him. With a frustrated sigh he gave up and they were finally completely skin to bare skin. He positioned himself so he pointed up towards his stomach and with his hands on her hips moved her back and forth along his shaft.

“This actually feels really good.” He sounded surprised. Then he repositioned so the head was nestled between her ass. Before, there had been gentle conversation and quiet kidding between the kisses and petting and fondling. Then there was silence. And heavy breathing. Focus solely on the pulsing raw and needy thing that built between them.

“You want this,” he gasped. It was not a question. And she did. Once again he repositioned, this time he rubbed his head between her lips and pressed at her opening. Feeling him there, she wanted it. Wanted him. And yet, out of the depths, her Conscience finally got a hold of her and slapped her across the face.

“Oh god, I can’t. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” And he pulled her to his chest and just held her.

.                  .                   .

 

He never tried to have intercourse with her again. He continued to come over, stayed in her bed. They played and fooled around but it never reached that point again. Later on he told her he was glad she had stopped them. It was that last boundary that he didn’t want to break. At that time he had been going through a lot of emotional issues and allowed it to affect his control.

She moved back home, and the physical affair ended. The thought always remained with her that had he been single she would have wanted a true relationship with him. He was a Christian with no interest in Judaism and always teased her about keeping kosher, but that didn’t bother her. There was a part of her that had the feeling she would have compromised her identity to stay with him. All this despite having been raised in a traditional home, sent to Jewish elementary school as well as a yeshiva high school. Up until that point being Jewish was an important part of her life. It was all tied in with family values. She knew if she hadn’t been so close to her family she would have stayed out there and never moved home. All of that hardly mattered, as he was not single. In the end she never really compromised her Jewish identity. It was a lesson though. She could never again get too close with a non-Jewish man. The danger of falling in love would be too great and it was still important to her to marry within the religion.

She thinks about how strange that time in her life was. It almost felt like fiction. Unreal. That it didn’t actually happen. That she never deviated from being a ‘good Jewish girl’ to having an affair with a married man.

She has yet to find love. There isn’t much peace of mind. And perhaps she isn’t deserving because of what she had done. As time continues to pass and she becomes further removed from the experience, the guilt builds. However, there is no regret. She wouldn’t do the same thing if she could go back, and she would never do something like this again, but the past cannot be changed. Only accepted.

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