Listen to our user submitted adult bed time story xxx, AI-narrated erotic story: Thursday Nights
Submitted by Anonymous. I’ve never told anyone about what happened back in the early 2000s when I worked at that small office just outside of London. It’s a secret I’ve kept locked away, hidden from everyone, even my closest friends. But as I sit here, sipping my wine and having listened to this channel for months, I find myself wanting to share this story, to finally let it out into the open.
It started innocently enough. Every Thursday evening, after everyone else had gone home for the weekend, Daniel and I would stay late to finish up any loose ends before the Friday rush. We’d sit side by side at our desks, the only two people left in the office, and we’d chat and laugh as we worked. Initially, it was just friendly banter, nothing more. But as the weeks went by, I found myself looking forward to those late nights more and more.
Daniel was charming, with a quick wit and a devilish grin that made my heart flutter every time I saw it. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to see right through me. As we spent more and more time together, I found myself drawn to him in a way I’d never experienced before.
One Thursday evening, as we were packing up to leave, Daniel suggested we have a quick drink in the break room before heading home. I hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending just a little more time with him was too tempting to resist. We made our way to the break room, and Daniel poured us each a glass of wine from a bottle he had stashed in his desk. As we sipped our wine and talked, the conversation turned more personal. We spoke about our hopes and dreams, our fears and insecurities. As we opened up to each other, I felt a connection forming between us, something deep and powerful that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him. He hesitated for just a moment before responding, his lips moving against mine with a hunger that matched my own. We kissed deeply, our tongues tangling together as our hands explored each other’s bodies. We made our way to the couch in the break room, our clothes falling away as we went. Daniel’s hands were all over me, caressing and teasing until I was writhing with need. He took his time, savoring every inch of my skin as he trailed kisses down my neck and across my breasts. When he finally entered me, it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. We moved together in perfect harmony, our bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been made for each other. Pleasure built slowly at first, like a volcano ready to erupt, until it finally exploded within me, leaving me shaking and gasping for air.
We made love right there on the couch, lost in a world of our own making. We took our time, exploring each other’s bodies with a sense of wonder and reverence. As we came together again and again, I felt a sense of connection to Daniel that I had never felt with anyone else before. But even as we basked in the afterglow of our passion, I knew that what we were doing was wrong. We were both in relationships, and yet here we were, giving ourselves to each other completely. It was a betrayal, plain and simple. Yet, as the weeks went by, we couldn’t seem to stop ourselves.
Every Thursday evening, we would stay late and make our way to the break room, unable to resist the pull of our desire for each other. We did it so casually that we would look forward to our dirty Thursday evenings. I would walk in and out of the building on a Thursday with an extra spring in my step, although deep down we both knew it was wrong. We made love on the couch, on the floor, even on the conference table sometimes, always careful to clean up any traces of our encounters before anyone else arrived on Friday morning. It was a dangerous game we were playing, and I knew it could only end badly. But even as guilt weighed heavily on me, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Daniel was like a drug, and I was hopelessly addicted.
In the end, it was Daniel who ended things. One Thursday evening, as we lay tangled together on the couch, he turned to me with a look of sadness in his eyes. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said softly. “It’s not fair to our partners, and it’s not fair to ourselves.” I knew he was right, but hearing the words out loud still hurt like a knife to my heart. We made love one last time, slower and more tender than ever before. And as we held each other afterwards, I felt a sense of loss so profound it brought tears to my eyes.
We never spoke of it again after that. We continued to work together, but the easy camaraderie we had once shared was gone, replaced by a polite distance that felt like a chasm between us. Every Thursday evening, as I packed up my desk to leave for the weekend, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing for what we had once had. But even now, all these years later, I still think of those Thursday nights sometimes. Of the way Daniel’s hands felt on my skin, the sound of his voice as he whispered my name in the heat of passion. It was a secret love affair, hidden away from the rest of the world, but no less intense for all that.
And while I know it was wrong, and I know I’ll have to answer for my sins someday, I can’t regret those moments with Daniel. They were some of the most passionate and intense experiences of my life, and they changed me in ways I’m still trying to understand. So there you have it, my secret confession. The story of my affair with Daniel, hidden away for all these years. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s a part of who I am, for better or worse. As I sit here sipping my wine and watching the fire dance in the hearth, I can’t help but smile at the memory of what we had, even if it could only last for a little while.
