My First Real Fuck: The Nervous Thrill of Thursday Afternoon
Our pink bedroom. Fragile bibelots on the shelves. That Thursday at 2 PM. Heart hammering. I’d prepared tea in the living room. Porcelain cups from grandma. Nervous fingers fumbling the sugar tongs. Why did I agree? Charity, I told myself. Help the shy boy. But deep down, curiosity burned. Routine sex with my husband—mechanical, soft,…