As I look back on that fateful night, I can still feel the guilt washing over me like a tidal wave. It was a party at my stepdad's friend's house, and everyone was drinking and having a good time. I was just there to hang out with some friends, but things took an unexpected turn when his wife went home early. The atmosphere shifted, and suddenly everyone was looking for something else to do. That's when he approached me. He was tall and muscular, with thick black hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut right through me. He smiled that smile that made my stomach flutter, and before I knew it, we were making our way upstairs to his bedroom.

As soon as we got inside, he closed the door behind us and started undressing. I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then he turned around and saw me standing there in my dress, and all of a sudden, he was on me. His big hands were gripping my waist, pulling me closer to him. And then he had me, right there in front of his wife's clothes scattered across the floor.

At first, I felt so guilty. Like I had betrayed not only his wife but myself too. But then he did something that changed everything. He reached down between us and grabbed hold of his cock, which was already starting to throb. And then he started stroking it, slowly and methodically. Watching him touch himself like that made something deep within me stir. Suddenly, I didn't care about how wrong this was. All I could think about was how much I wanted to make him cum.

So I leaned forward and took his dick into my mouth. At first, it was awkward and uncomfortable. It was bigger than anything I had ever seen before, and it tasted salty and bitter. But then he groaned, and suddenly, everything clicked. His hands tightened their grip on my hair, and he began thrusting his hips against mine. The feeling of his cock pulsing against my tongue was almost overwhelming. And when he finally came, it was like an explosion inside my head.

Afterwards, we both sat there for a while, catching our breath. Neither of us said anything, but we both knew what had just happened. We had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed, and now we were both trapped by our own guilt. But even as I write this now, years later, I can still feel the warmth of his hand on my cheek, and hear the low rumble of his voice as he whispered "Thank you" in my ear.