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<Markey Confesses Her Infidelity on Tuesday>

I am tired, bone tired from the nervous tension brought on myself after I selfishly allowed Alana to lure me into a threesome with her old lover and classmate, Phil Foster. Don't get me wrong. I confess I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity for sex that Alana presented. I utterly relished the intense and awesome fucking I received from him and Alana when they worked me over last Friday. It was one of the few times after I had been snookered by Alana and her underhanded guises that I was delighted. I deceived myself into believing that it would make me feel better. She had conclusively convinced me to make it an act of revenge against Art, an act of liberation of me personally, or an act of declaration of my independence. It was none of those--it was an act of robust persuasion by my little sister that now leaves me with regret, sorrow, and displeasure of myself. It is tearing me apart, wearing me down, and affecting my mind. Today when I resigned my real estate job, I broke down in tears. Bryce misunderstood, assumed it was because I was leaving the firm, kept trying to convince me that I could stay, that there was no reason to leave, and that I would be treated much better if I remained with the firm. My state-of-mind was such that I answered him rudely when I told him to stick the job up Heather's ass and then rub it in Allison's face with the shit still on it. He practically fell from his perch on the edge of the desk at that outburst. He reddened when it dawned on him that I had found out about his escapades with the two of them, and he immediately assisted me out ...

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