Adultery - coming up next

I am a 34 year old professional lady who has been happily married for 12 years. Until what you are about to read happened, I had never been unfaithful to my husband. We have a great life together, both with really good, well paid jobs and a really nice home.

George, my husband, keeps telling me I have a terrific body and a beautiful face to go with it. When I look in the mirror I think he and I are looking at two different people. Ok, I am not old and wrinkled (yet) but still the same… The old body “ain’t what she used to be” but as I have had no children, I think have a reasonable figure. My titties are not sagging too much yet but my nipples are, and always have been, way too big (long) for my liking. Sometimes, when they get really hard, they are almost an inch long. It is really embarrassing. All the girls used to tease me in the showers when I used to play netball. Now days I have to be careful what I wear when I am going out, I mean, although I would love to, I cannot go bra less. I can be so embarrassing when they decide it is too cold or for whatever reason they decide to stand up. They are not “headlights”, they are more like driving lights! I suppose if I ever have kids…

George is pretty high up in an Australia wide company and often he has to leave home while he travels the countryside. Usually not long, just 2 or 3 nights and only a few times a year. These times I am left at home alone. I have been with him once but hanging around motels while he is off working was just a bore. All that as it may be, on this particular occasion he was to be away about 10 days. He caught a plane on Sunday night and would not be home until the following Tuesday or Wednesday. This was good in its way because my work was hosting a national conference which involved a three day seminar on the Wednesday thru Friday with a bit of a social gathering of the participants on the Friday evening. Guess who had the pain of planning and looking after the organisation of and the MC duties of this gathering? I guess it kept me away from the inevitable boring stuff. On the Friday afternoon, one of the keynote speakers, a man named Tom, was due to give the closing address to the assembly.

I had met Tom on the Wednesday and I just about swooned when I first saw him. My heart started beating something silly and my chest felt filled with adrenaline. I felt sort of sick inside and stupid on the outside. I just did not believe my body could do this over a stranger – at 17 maybe, but not now. I put this silliness into the background and continued my work. On the Thursday I saw him again and he asked if I might accompany him on the Friday night to the after work gathering. Instantly I felt my nipples starting to strain against my bra. I felt embarrassed but I don’t think he saw either. In my fluster at the sight of him and this unusual invitation, I muttered something about too much work. See me later. Later came on the Friday, just before his speech where he asked me again. I told him possibly, ask me after you are finished speaking. Arrangements are open and I will know what my work commitments would be by that time.

Tom spoke to the crowd in a manner that kept us all listening intently. Sort of like some really good orators capture people with their tone, their manners and their command of language and delivery. People were mesmerised. Let me tell you, he had my attention too. His command of that audience (and me) stood well above the 5 foot 8 odd inches he stood tall. All through his speech, my nipples were so hard that they began to hurt. I had to put up with this as a woman cannot just scratch her titties like men seem to be able to do with their private parts and not seem to care who may be witnessing this crude action. We ladies have some decorum.

It wasn’t until late in the evening I got the chance to have a quiet conversation with Tom. My heart kept doing silly things and the funny feelings Tom made me feel were more than I was able to cope with. There was a three seater bench just off to one side of the stage and just flopped down on it, breathed a huge sigh and thanked the heavens that these three long hard days and 16 plus hours minimum each – was over. Tom sat down beside me. I was exhausted. Other than that, it would have been perfect except for the tiredness and the stupidity in my chest and the disgusting unfaithful things that were racing through my mind.

I told Tom that I was really, really sorry that I could stay no longer. He smiled and said he understood. He asked me if a very quiet dinner in an exclusive restaurant tomorrow night might be better for me. I said I was married to which he replied, so am I. He asked if my husband would like to come the three of us have a meal OR did I have something else in mind? I told him George was away so that was not an issue. As for anything else, as I said, I was happily married. As I was telling Tom I was about to leave, one of his hand found and rested gently on my knee. The warmth of his touch sent a pulse straight to my pussy. I sort of muttered that I would like to join him for dinner. He smiled a smile that would melt the heart of a jihad terrorist, said thank you and he escorted me to my car. A few meters from my car I pushed the little button and the light flashed and two little beeps of the horn sounded. I opened the door and threw my handbag onto the passenger seat.

I turned to say thank you and goodnight and as I turned, his right arm had found my hips and it wrapped itself around me as I turned. His left arm moved under mine and I felt it on the back of my head. He drew me to him and guided my head towards his, our lips met, slowly, tentatively, so gently at first and then with eagerness as he felt no resistance from me, building up to such a passion that my head started spinning. My god, I am married. What is happening here? As fast as these thoughts entered my head, the heat of the passionate kisses drove them away. We kissed more and more and out tongues tangled with a passion I had not felt for oh such a long time. My pussy was feeling wetter than my mouth. My nipples were hard and desperate to be caressed and wetted by a loving mouth. I felt the strength of his body and as my legs moved and swayed with his, I brushed against the growing hardness in his trousers. I am sure he noticed because Tom backed away. He told me to go home and get some sleep. He said he would pick me up at 8:00 on Saturday night. I drove home slowly and carefully as I could. My panties were so wet, my heart was racing and my mind processing a thousand thoughts - some good - some bad. Some stupid and whoreish, some of my fantasies and guilt about what I had just done, how much I liked it and what I was going to do about it. And then there was my marriage.

I was so tired when I arrived home that I just stripped my clothes off and went to bed. As soon as I hit the sheets, my right hand went straight to my pussy and the other to one to my left boobie. I leant my head forward, and sucked the nipple straight into my mouth and sucked harder than a milk starved baby. As I kissed and sucked that nipple, for a change I was glad it was so long. The fingers on my other hand were playing a tune with my clit and brought me to an orgasm that was fuelled by the wanton thoughts of whore, thoughts of betrayal cast aside with just lust and greed for the body of the man I had so passionately kissed tonight and would kiss tomorrow night. I was telling myself, “I want to fuck this man – I want to fuck this man” as the throws of my orgasm rippled through my body. I fell asleep sated. When I awoke, my right hand was still on my pussy. I wondered what the hell I was doing.

Saturday dragged on until at about 5 o’clock, I decided that I would go ahead with going out with Tom. I jumped in the shower and started to wash. All the time my mind was on Tom, our kiss last night, how I felt right now and what was going to happen tonight. I wet and used shampoo on my hair. As I started washing my body, naturally by boobs needed cleaning but as soon as my wet soapy hands brushed over my nipples they started getting hard and the inside of my pussy started getting wet – without the help of the shower. I betrayed the wantonness of my pussy and played with my hardened nipples as long as I could before I could hold out no longer.

My hands, both of them, went to my pussy and there they began the play the tune my pussy loves so much. My fingers found the folds of my pussy lips and when flushed with blood, beckoned my fingers upward to my clit. My vagina desperate for its own desires, as if by magic, coaxed the fingers of my other hand to my vagina and then to plunge a finger deep inside my wetness – inside me then out, in and out – now two fingers, fucking my pussy like a small cock. My other hand was sliding fingers up, down and around my clit as it came to life with raw intensity and expanded more and more as each stroke promised the ecstasy it longed for. It grew so more of it could meet my fingers and partake of the elixir of pleasure. With the thought of Tom doing this to me, my head was spinning. My fingers and hands became the instruments of an absent lover. Unable to contain the building orgasm, my knees buckled under me and I sank to the floor of the shower with both hands still pumping at my clit and my pussy. My body began to tremble, slowly at first but then the approaching orgasm caused me to shake all over. I was unable to control myself as the orgasm took over and almost rattled my bones as wave after wave of pleasure erupted through my body. My clit had called for attention but now screamed for my fingers to stop. When my hands and fingers did stop, my entire body jerked violently three, four and more times as the waves of orgasm ebbed away. My whole body relaxed and I slid into an exhausted heap on the shower floor. Through the haze of returning sensibility, I realised that I had only kissed Tom and I was now recovering from my second orgasm over this man.

I guess that shower lasted about 20 minutes instead of my usual three or four. I got out and dried off, ran the blow drier across my hair until it was dry and presentable and once again, checked out the clothes I had selected to wear that evening.

A cute little “hot pink” G string, satin with pretty lace trim was first. A leg each side of the little triangle and it was soon in place. My pussy was barely covered as I pulled the little strap toward my bottom and into the space between my bun cheeks. I pulled it snugly into place. Next was a pair of skin coloured elastic top stockings that held themselves in place. No pesky panty hose or garter belt. As I slid the first onto my left leg, I felt the silkiness of the smooth hairless skin on my leg. I hate waxing but I love the results. Equally, the right leg passed my own severe inspection as well. I had to be extremely careful as each time my hands touched some other part of my body, my mind sent signals of desire to my pussy. It was so distracting!

My favourite little shoestring strap black dress with a zip at the back was next. My boobies were capable of holding this dress in place without the straps but it made me a little less self-conscious of my nipples as it had a little padding in the breast area and it helped conceal them. The terrible thought of a baby suckling on my milk laden nipples - how big would they be then! I shuddered. On went a little make-up and I was dressed.

It was 7:50 and I was ready. Tom arrived exactly at 8.

To be continued…

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