An Affair To Confess

Sovereign answers the door to find Marie on the step, eyes rimmed pink. She steps inside before Sovereign can even ask. "I have to tell you something," Marie blurts out the moment they sit. Her hands shake. Sovereign waits, pulse hammering. The confession that spills out—Marie slept with Sovereign’s husband—lands like cold rain. Yet Sovereign feels only the sting of hope betrayed, not jealousy. She gathers her nerve and speaks. "I thought you were here to say something else." Marie frowns, waiting. "I want an affair too," Sovereign says, voice low, "with you." Marie’s mouth opens but nothing comes. Sovereign moves closer, kisses her, and suddenly there’s nothing else. Fabric slips from shoulders. Buttons scatter. Sovereign presses her lips to the swell of each breast, nipples already tight, before she sinks lower and drags her tongue along slick heat she has imagined for months. Marie’s thighs tremble, then part wider. Later, bare and flushed on the couch, the two of them trade desperate mouths and wet fingers until climax leaves them shaky and still joined at the hips. When their breathing slows, Marie rests her forehead against Sovereign’s. Neither looks away. The silence that follows is no longer awkward—only new.