Waiting five years for my man to get out of prison was a sentence my body could no longer uphold. I had needs, and that mixed with alcohol required them to be met. Self-care in the most intimate way just wasn’t working anymore. I needed someone who was gonna talk back. I blamed it on the summer nights and brown liquor, but honestly, I was sober when I let him taste me. The regret always seemed to be stronger than the orgasms when it was over, though. That’s why I had to stop. My man thought he was coming home to a fiancée, and I was going to give him just that. He couldn’t find out I was cheating, and even if he did, he had to forgive me. Why? because he was cheating too.
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