For some reason I had cheated on my boyfriend Jeremy.  I think I'd forgotten about it until I got a call from the guy I'd slept with asking to come over again.  Jeremy and the families were there; I was trying to figure out how to tell the guy it was a one-time thing without raising suspicion.  I finally said I'd call him back later.  I was extremely uncomfortable, not just with the fact that I'd cheated on Jeremy, but that, while I didn't remember the occurrence, that I think I enjoyed the sex somewhat more; his penis was larger.  There were things going on in the room.  I was conflicted and trying to decide whether I should tell Jeremy or not.  He should have the decision to choose whether he wants to stay with someone who cheated on him, but at the same time, I knew I loved him and didn't want to lose him, and would never cheat again, and that telling him would only hurt him.  I was laying on the floor in my parents' living room.  Jeremy's parents were there, too, and Jeremy's father seemed quite sympathetic to my parents' situation with my brother Stuart.