A Misunderstanding

Sarah dialed the number, postponed her four o'clock appointment and retrieved one of two condoms from Tom's pants pocket, all in one fluid motion. She left the other condom in his pants. Three condoms; what was he thinking?

She considered the things she could say to make it right as she took his cock into her mouth. I'm not that kind of girl. . I've never done this before. I have rules about this. But those excuses would sound feeble. He would not believe her anyway. He was getting hard very rapidly.

And when she straddled him she considered scolding him for bringing three condoms, "what do you take me for?" But seeing his eyes, wide and glazed, she knew he wouldn't hear her anyway. As she lowered herself onto his shaft, any guilt she harbored for screwing a married man was moved aside by the glorious feel of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. She fucked him with determination and resolve. She was determined to make it the best fuck possible and with resolve to make it her first and last with a married man.

Tom didn't understand the control he had over this lady but he knew enough to enjoy it while it lasted. She was a woman possessed. He was overcome with passion, so much that he was able to temporarily set aside the shame he felt. Why did she have to be married?

They used the third condom doggy style. Sarah offered to launder the bedding and was stripping the sheets off the bed when Tom moved behind her. My god, now I'm his bitch, Sarah thought as she pointed her ass upward for him to mount her. He's hard, does he never stop? She looked back to watch him. The Bastard! He's smiling; he knows I can't refuse to give in. Soon she was screaming, encouraging him to, "GIVE IT TO ME!"

Sarah phoned her four o'clock appointment to say she had been detained again but she would meet them at her office within the hour. She needed a few minutes to make her self as presentable as possible.

When they left the house together Sarah was mortified to discover the front door was still propped open. "What if someone walked in?" She muttered to her self. Tom howled.

They can see I've been fucking all afternoon, she thought as she shook the hands of her clients. She could feel the young man's eyes on her legs as she went through the motions of describing the attributes of the property she was showing. She spoke dreamily, so relaxed that it felt like she was floating on air.

Sarah knew Tom was in town the following week but she resisted her urges to call his office. There were a number of issues, valid reasons to call. She had washed and ironed the bedding; nothing had been resolved about the house inspection or the mortgage. A closing date had not been set. She dreaded meeting the wife in person. What was her name?

Nancy phoned on Wednesday, "Sarah, can you open the house on Friday for Mister Keyton? I've made an appointment with an inspector."

"Friday? I'm going to be busy that day but I'll send someone with the key," she answered without asking what time the inspector was coming. Nancy said that would be fine and told her the time, 11:00 A.M.

Sarah was trembling when she dropped the receiver into its cradle. She had refrained from asking, "is Tom going to be there?" She was still shaking when her phone rang, not ten minutes later.

"Sarah, is there a better time for you? Tell me when it will be convenient for you. I'll change the appointment with the inspector." There was an insistence in Tom's voice that she couldn't refuse to obey. She did need to return the laundered sheets and she did need to speak to him about the mortgage. He had arranged for the inspection without being prompted. The sale was moving along nicely. Perhaps they could set a closing date.

After the inspector left they spent the afternoon in bed. Tom had brought lunch; sandwiches, fruit and wine. Sarah had brought a roll of toilet paper for the upstairs bathroom.

"These sheets will need to be washed again," Sarah said, comfortable in his arms, no longer embarrassed by her nakedness. They had heard each other grunt. They had admitted things to each other in moments of passion. He had seen the crack of her ass open when she bent to pick something up. She had licked his balls. They had no secrets.

"There's no need to wash the pillow cases. We didn't leak cum on them," Tom observed, playfully tweaking her nipple. Her husband is an idiot. He doesn't know what he has. But I'm the reason she's committing adultery, not him. I've got to end this.

"Oh yes, they will need to be washed. I don't think your wife would appreciate smelling the scent from my hair."

Why had she said that? A quiet came over the bedroom for several minutes. Had what she said ruined the mood? Why had she mentioned his wife, reminding him that he was committing adultery? She was relieved when she felt his hand move up her thigh, lightly touching the nerve endings, arousing her senses.

They met at the house twice more before the closing date, both times for Sarah to deliver the clean bedding, both times to make love. Both times it had been at Tom's suggestion. He hated himself for making the calls. Both times Sarah hated herself for accepting his invitation. But they enjoyed their time together immensely. They admitted things to each other, personal things, secrets.

"I still don't know what came over me that first time we met," Sarah admitted guardedly. "You must have taken me for a slut, doing anything to make a sale?" Their bodies were touching from cheek to toe. She felt secure in his arms but she needed to hear him say she was not a slut.

"Sarah, nothing would please me more than meeting for the first time again and again. I knew that you were not doing it to make a sale. And now that I have gotten to know you I believe you. That was your first and only time. " Tom ran his hand down her side, cupped her ass for a minute before running his hand over her back.

"Really? Would you like for us to meet for the first time again?" Sarah could feel his cock stir, making her move back to give it room.

"I can think of nothing better than meeting you for the first time. It would be different though."

Sarah laughed. "I know it would be different. I wouldn't drop to my knees and motion for you." She felt his cock again, pressing against her tummy.

"I told you it would be different. That first time we met I was thinking how fun it would be to bend you over the banister and fuck you from behind."

Sarah jumped backward again, too stunned to shriek or call him names. She felt his arm around her and she let him pull her to him, bending his cock back between them. She buried her head in his chest, knowing her cheeks were scarlet. The man was wicked. His lewd suggestion made her shudder. But as he rubbed her back she relaxed and let the warmth of his body sooth her.

"Why didn't you?" What was she saying? Don't encourage him. What must he think of me?

"I pictured you hanging over the banister, naked and screaming. With no furnishings in the room below to absorb the noise your screaming would attract the attention of the neighbors. That's why I didn't do it that day."

Sarah contemplated what he said. She felt his cock wedged between them, pulsating against her stomach. "Hmmm, I could, you know, be quiet. I wouldn't scream."

Tom looked at her skeptically. "Sarah, I know you. I've heard you scream, remember?"

"Does that mean you don't want to do it?" She said sheepishly.

"I didn't say that. It's my greatest fantasy. I think about it every time I follow you up the stairs. But I don't want my new neighbors to get the wrong impression."

"We could, ah, put the throw rug on the floor down stairs. That would absorb the sound wouldn't it, I mean, if I had an insatiable urge to tell the neighbors how good it felt?" She gripped his cock in her small hand. Tom could only nod his agreement.

An hour later, Sarah looked in both directions to see if any of the neighbors were watching before venturing out the front door. They must be away, she thought as she made her way along the sidewalk, walking gingerly. She couldn't go back to the office, not with the permanent smile on her lips. She knew exactly what she needed.

At home in the bathtub, Sarah let the warm water sooth her tired body and let her mind drift back to her afternoon with Tom. The throw rug looked miniature on the floor below, so far away. At first she feared falling. But then she felt his strong hands grip her sides and his cock probe, probe, probe until it found its target. Oops, it came out, briefly and then back, probe, another delicious probe, bull's eye, insertion, target found, penetration, deeper, deeper, yummy penetration.

There was nothing to hold on to. Sarah used both hands to keep her tits from bouncing and put her faith in Tom's ability to keep her from going over the side. She concentrated on the flowered pattern of the rug, far below. She was aware that her hips were colliding with the railing with each thrust and her tummy was being rubbed raw. But so what? "It feels SO GOOD!" What if Tom lost his grip and she went over the side? So what? "It fells SO GOOD!"

"I almost called you on Saturday," Tom said the last time they met. It was late on Friday afternoon. They had both postponed appointments. They both planned to go back to work.

"Why didn't you?" Sarah said lazily, giving one of his nipples a pull with her lips.

"I thought about it but decided that's probably the only day you have to spend with your kids.....and your husband," he added. He's so considerate, she thought. His wife is lucky. Why am I thinking of his wife again? She resisted the urge to tell him she was in the office on Saturday and would have welcomed his call. She would have been delighted to meet him at the house.

"The closing of the property is set for Wednesday," Sarah said, changing the subject. "Will it be too obvious if I bring the clean sheets back that day?"

The closing, that's an appropriate term, Sarah thought more than once over the next few days. It would be the transfer of property, both real estate and bedding. It would be the end of an affair with a married man.

She wore the short skirt and the dark brown stockings for old time's sake but Tom did not attend the closing. "Where is his wife, we don't have her name," she said to the attorney who was there in his stead.

"There's no Mrs. Keyton, he's not married," the attorney answered, astonished at the alarm he saw on Sarah's face.

Sarah didn't believe him. There were children, two boys, four and six. What were their names? She stepped out of the room and called Nancy.

"It was a misunderstanding. Mister Keyton is single," the secretary admitted.

"This is serious. How could he mislead us? Are you sure about this?"

"There's a photo of the two boys with their mother on his desk. I asked how old the boys were and he said four and six. Naturally I assumed they were his sons. I just found out it's his sister and her sons," Nancy confessed.

"You assumed? Are you sure?" Sarah accused indignantly.

"Call human resources if you don't believe me," Nancy's mood suddenly changed from defensive to irritant.

It took some coaxing but Sarah got an H.R. records clerk to confirm that the young VP of sales was indeed, single.

Why didn't he tell me he's not married?

Sarah left the closing with her commission check and the clean bedding. Back at the office she discarded the bedding in the trash, removed the silver band from her ring finger and tossed it in a desk drawer, vowing to avoid future misunderstandings.

And that was the end of it as far as Sarah was concerned, until a few days later when Tom called to congratulate her on the sale. "I've moved into the house Sarah and I'm happy to say it's a comfortable place to live when I'm in town. I just wanted to say...to tell you...."

"Yes?" Sarah asked breathlessly.

"It was not my intention to mislead you about my marital status. It was a misunderstanding and I wanted to say..."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry if my failure to be honest with you caused any hardship. It was not my intention to cause any friction between you and your husband. I wish things had been different. I didn't mean for any harm to come to you but once it began I couldn't stop it." His voice became weak, sounding distant. "I tried...."

"I was not honest with you either Tom. I'm not....." Sarah stopped talking when she realized the phone line was dead.

Several times that day Sarah found herself staring at the phone, willing it to ring and when it did ring she answered with apprehension, finding it difficult to control her voice.

At the end of the day he had not called back. Once again Sarah looked at the phone, wondering, should I call him?

The End

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