"Mmmm Connie I wish we were together right now being close and kissing." The same low but direct voice aimed for her ears. From the corner of my eye I

5 years

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“Mmmm Connie I wish we were together right now being close and kissing.” The same low but direct voice aimed for her ears. From the corner of my eye I could tell that she was mine.
I began to get energetic pulling on my now hard c***. “OOHHH Connie I wish you were touching me right now… I wish that I was touching you and making you feel sooo good!” When I saw her lick her full, s*** lips I said it, and I was honest. “I truly love you Connie and I want to make love with you physically as well as brother and sister. More than just family, like lovers. Mmmmmm I wish you loved me so much!”
“I DO!!” She blurted out suddenly. It surprised me and must have surprised her too because she looked panic stricken with her hand over her mouth. My heart was pounding at this sudden twist of fate. “Connie?” I managed to remain calm. I took the few steps to the window and slid up the screen. She was frozen in place. I knelt down and felt her silky, long, light brown hair as I took either side of her pretty face, drew her close, and kissed her.
It was magical. Honestly, I was in love. We parted just as it was getting real, but not that far apart. Our eyes met. Hers, a shiny pair of dancing, deep blue sapphires. Mine a bit lighter but I am sure just as excited. “I.. I’ve got to go start dinner.” I pulled her in for a more meaningful kiss. She was better at it all ready! “I’ll get dressed and come help.” She smiled coyly looking a little nervous. “Um.. okay.” She got a good but quick look as I stood then she turned and bolted for the back door.

New Confession

I have been living in my coworker’s attic for four months, and what started as pure survival has turned into a terrifying, secret love. I initially slipped inside through his unlocked side door out of desperation after losing my apartment, learning to navigate the quiet rhythms of his life only when he left for work. But lately, my isolation has morphed into a deep, agonizing intimacy; I find myself listening to the soft acoustic guitar melodies he plays at midnight, touching the books he leaves on the coffee table, and smelling the faint scent of his cologne on the towels. It grew even more intense when he started leaving a fresh plate of dinner on the kitchen counter every night before bed, whispering into the dark, “Just in case you’re hungry, spirit.” Yesterday, I accidentally dropped a mug in the kitchen, and when he rushed into the room, the raw, frantic terror in his eyes wasn’t for his own safety—it was for mine. I am utterly terrified to come down and face reality, but as I watch him from the shadows, I realize I am even more terrified of ever having to leave him.

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