Dichotomy

I am sitting up in bed, my computer on my lap, a pink-pinstriped cotton and lace babydoll nightie bunched around my thighs.  My legs are open, so I can smell and see the evidence of this evening’s earlier activities.  Ad likes this little nightgown.  He likes how sweet it looks, and then he likes to push it up and fuck me in it, looking down at the pink and white lace as he does so.
I can’t imagine ever wearing this around W.  He is all sexy/slutty, and would probably laugh at me if I showed him my sweet girlie side. In fact he has, or rather he has just shaken his head and looked askance at me when I’ve shown up sweet-girlie, or all athletic. Whereas Ad sometimes seems more attracted to me when I’m not slutted up, when I am in my yoga pants or a t-shirt and running shoes, or like tonight, in a pink babydoll.  Not even a Victoria Secret type babydoll, either, just…cotton and lace.
It’s amazing to me how different the guys are, and yet I love them both and they both make me wet and hot and dizzy with desire and need. It’s amazing that they both like me.  But sometimes, I think that is what makes it work. I can be both girls. The sex slave slut and the sweet girl-next-door.
This morning, after leaving W’s, I sat at work in just this way, my legs spread beneath my desk. Even in jeans I could smell myself, smell him, on me. I wore 5 inch platform peep-toes with my jeans, and a tight black shirt. Jeans-day slut girl at the office. I was wishing he had told me to wear my tit collars.  That would have completed the image I think. But it was almost enough to just look down at my slut shoes, to feel the way they made me walk when I walked into our staff meeting late and everyone looked over at me, to know that his semen was coating the insides of my cunt.
I dip a finger now into Ad’s wetness between my thighs.  I have them both inside me now and the memory of each of  them, one this morning and one tonight, straining and shuddering in their orgasms, spending themselves inside me.  Delicious. As delicious as the difference in their tastes, in their smell, in the way their hands feel on me. A delicious, delirious, dichotomy.