He is okay with it

After what seemed to you like an eternity, you saw a smile cross his lips. "That's okay. What he doesn't know, won't hurt him." He then kissed you again before you could reply. The kiss was as passionate as you could have hoped. You both continued to lay there like that in a deep embrace for another ten minutes, your bodies both squirming. Finally be pulled back and you both came up for air.

"My name is John, by the way," you say. "What a beautiful name," he replies. Then he looks around, finally climbing off of you and standing. Thankfully it did not seem as though anyone had paid a bit of attention to you two. Some probably saw, but simply did not think twice about it. Only a handful of people at the party would have been able to identify you anyway.

"Well, I probably should go clean up. Would have been nice to have shot this somewhere other then my pants," he joked. You blushed, instantly picturing what he was insinuating. Rolling with it, though, you reply, "next time, maybe."

"Speaking of next time, how about a number?" He pulled his phone out, ready to plug in your number. You happily give it to him, along with your e-mail, but only after making him promise not to always let you know before calling so that your boyfriend would not catch you. You also added him to your phone, but named his number a girl's name so your boyfriend wouldn't suspect anything if he saw it appear.

Afterwards, he left, but not before helping you up and kissing you again. Despite his size, he turned out to be quite gentle. You couldn't help but feel this was in part due to how you reacted. If you had reacted differently--perhaps if you had resisted even--he might had turned out to be anything but gentle. But here he was, and here you were.

He then left with the promise of calling you later. You make your way to the bathroom upstairs and check yourself out in the mirror. Just as you feared earlier, you had a hickey. A large hickey in plain sight. You also removed your skirt and held it up, checking it out. There was a rip on the lower right side. Likewise, the back of your panties was torn a little too. You sighed. They were nice clothes. Moreover, though, you had to think of a way to explain this to your boyfriend. There were two ways out that you came up with. You could climb back in bed with him, and when he woke, tell him the hickey was from him and that he had ripped your clothes--somehow. Or, you could leave him a note, call a friend to pick you up, and go home, blaming him for abandoning you at the party.

Skirt in hand, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You could not believe you had cheated and loved every second of it. You thought of Luke, your new lover, and shuddered. Your heart seemed to beat faster. You knew you were in deep one way or another.