Reassessing My Life - Pt. 1 - Sex Stories

Reassessing My Life - Pt. 1

... convinced her that they weren’t for her. As she had put it right before passing out, “I’m kinky as fuck, but I’m not a slut. Nothing against sluts, though, ‘cause some of my best friends are sluts.”

She dragged me out to go clubbing sometimes, trying to get me both out of the house and out of my head, and I’d seen her in everything from Victorian finery to skintight PVC. But she rarely bared actual skin; the most immodest thing I saw her wear was a one-piece swimsuit when we went swimming at a nighttime pool party. She was heavily tattooed, all her own designs, with full sleeves and thigh pieces. They were beautiful, intricate works of art that I loved to look at.

Her torso was heavily inked as well, but I never got to see much of it. When I asked about those pieces, she got a little shy. “That’s… I don’t want to be a famous artist or anything. I just want to make my art and make a living as an accountant so that I don’t have to worry about starving. And some of my stuff, well, I don’t mind if people see it. That’s the stuff on my arms or legs or hanging on my walls.

“But the other…” She smiled bashfully. “I don’t want to share them with just anyone. They’re for the people that I want to really know me, all of me.” Then she laughed. “Well, that and my tattoo artist. Can’t avoid that, really.”

When I was with her, I enjoyed my life again, really enjoyed it in a way I hadn’t in a while. She had done in college what I should have, exploring who she was and who she ...

... wanted to be, trying different things on and letting them go when they didn’t work, until she got herself on steady footing. I was envious of that, even if it had left her with a pretty sizable amount of student loan debt.

We were sitting on her couch one night, watching a movie, when I realized that we weren’t just sitting together, or even sitting close to each other. We were cuddling. I don’t know how it happened, but she was leaned against me, her head resting on my chest and my arm around her, and I felt really, truly, completely content for the first time since this whole thing had begun.

I stiffened for a moment, worrying that I was making a mistake. I didn’t want to get into some kind of rebound thing with Cass; I really did like her. I might have even been falling in love with her. But I was still a little gun-shy about who I really was and who I wanted to be, and I didn’t want to fuck anything up, including our friendship.

She squished up against me, hugged me tight, and patted my leg, as if she knew what I was thinking and was trying to reassure me. Telling me without speaking that it would be what it would be, and we’d be fine either way. I settled again, kissed the top of her head affectionately, and we ended up falling asleep there together. It was the best sleep I’d had in half a year, even if I did have a crick in my neck the next morning.

Things were a little lowkey between us over the next week; our lunches were still pleasant, and we were still ...