Bits on the Side

We kissed, deep and with very active, plundering tongues. His fingers slid down the outside of my thongs and miraculously with no fumbling lighted right on my clit. That was simply too much for me. My mind and body exploded simultaneously and I climaxed. It was hard, shuddering and for me quite noisy with long groans, harsh grunts and deep moans.

I clung to him cradling his face with my head thrown back, my eyes closed and mouth open. I pushed my breasts against his face riding the waves of sensation with jerks and shudders of my body. He had made me cum with only the very lightest touches on my clit and tits.

"Oh shit," I grunted feeling so embarrassed.

This wasn't in the plan. The script hadn't been written that way. Mistresses don't cum so easily.

"Oh baby, don't say that."

"I'm sorry Jack."

"Cat don't please."

"But I feel stupid."

"Why?"

"Doing that."

"It's fine, I'm pleased, in fact I'm flattered," he went on planting little kisses on the tops of my boobs, my chest and neck before kissing me fully on my mouth. His hands ran up and down my back, softly pinging my bra strap and running around inside the narrow waist band of my panties.

"I feel like a kid," I groaned, although his reaction had reassured me somewhat.

He slid his hand inside the cup of my bra and eased one of my breasts out. Lifting it and looking at me out of the top of his eyes as he licked across my nipple he whispered.

"Some kid? Kids don't have these."

I again cradled his head as he sucked, chewed and licked my nipple.

"Come to bed Cat. I so want to make complete love to you."

Complete love. Oh my God yes I thought as I got up, held his hand and let him lead me to the bedroom; that's precisely what I need, complete love, what a great phrase.

The bed was already turned down. He kissed me and laid me on it. He stood at the side of the bed, undid his shirt and removed it. His chest was toned and fairly hairy, just as I like a man's chest, not like, I found myself thinking, Richard's chest.

He wasn't at all embarrassed as he took his trousers and socks off, but then why should he be? I wasn't embarrassed being in my underwear so why should he be, why would I think he might be? I guess it was just me thinking back to the last times I had been with a new lover, but then I was in my teens and it was a very long time ago. Things change.

He slid his boxers off and, for the first time I not only saw my lover naked, but also wonderfully erect. He looked gorgeous. He had, I found myself thinking, a better, more muscular and more toned body than my husband. He also had a bigger cock I noticed as he lay beside me on the bed.

We kissed. Again it was deep and passionate. His naked cock pressed against me, I held it and stroked it and my bra came off. He licked and sucked my tits and I rubbed his chest, belly and cock. He was pulling on the waistband of my thong. I lifted my bottom up and he slid it down my legs. Apart from my stockings I was naked. Our bare bodies pressed together, it felt good. I loved his hairy chest on my boobs and nipples.

He turned me onto my back and I realised that we were about to have full sex; to make complete love as he'd described it.

It seemed just right to do it with me on my back and him on top. Nothing flash, nothing too adventurous, they could come later I found myself thinking as he lay on top of me.

"Cat I have thought about this so much," he groaned snuggling his cock down between my legs.

"So have I, Jack all the time."

"I so want you my darling," he whispered, pressing the tip of his cock right against my lips.

"Yes, my dear, yes," I sighed "Have me Jack, take me,"

++

I felt terrible when I got home around ten that evening. I had made my excuses both to the kids and Richard so the time was not an issue nor was the fairly obvious fact that I had been drinking. I had covered both of those in my lies.

'What have I come to?' I thought as I carried on normally with my husband and family after spending an afternoon and early evening with my lover. An afternoon with my lover. An afternoon in bed with him. An afternoon being fucked by another man, yet here I was making tea for my husband and children. Surely they could tell? Surely they would know? Surely it showed? Surely I reeked of being an adulteress?

But everything seemed to be fine. Nobody said anything untoward, nothing seemed to be out of the norm. Phew, I could relax.

When I came in there was the usual, hi mum's from the kids and hello darling from Richard. They didn't question me or ask awkward questions. Everything was as it usually was; watching TV, surfing, X box and Richard reading. Yet there was me an adulteress who had spent the afternoon being fucked in a hotel just up the road.

The evening passed uneventfully.

Mark Austin didn't fuck Julie Etchingham during News at Ten and Jonathan Ross didn't fuck Gwyneth Paltrow on his chat show, though he did try.

We had a drink and went to bed. I was dreading Richard wanting sex. Of course if he had, I would have obliged for I would never refuse my husband. But after certainly five and possibly more orgasms that afternoon and after Jack and me having 'complete sex' twice between about three and nine, further sex would have been difficult. But then Richard teed off at eight thirty on Saturdays at Highgate and had to be up early!

++

"Was it awful, darling?" Jack asked, his fingers idly tweaking my nipple.

"No not awful, but very odd, very strange," I replied stroking his flat stomach as we discussed going home after the real start of our affair at the Luton hotel.

We were in bed two weeks later; it was the first chance we'd had to get together properly since then. Well we had got together in his car, but that was just deep kisses and caresses, and we had repeated the office scene. Again though, that was just 'heavy petting.'

We were at a hotel in St Johns Wood right near, actually overlooking, the Lords Cricket ground; not that I particularly liked cricket.

We'd had lunch and then made love. It was as simple as that. Met in the lobby, went to the restaurant, ate and drunk went upstairs and fucked. Magic.

And it had been a good fuck. Better than either of the two Luton shags. I was more relaxed, he was more confident and we were, I suppose, getting used to each other. Yes we were developing our relationship, we were becoming better acquainted, we really were having an affair.

I had told Richard and the kids that I was attending a conference, 'somewhere in north west London.' I had purposefully been as vague with the location as I was with the title 'Oh something to do with using the Internet for marketing research.' That way they couldn't check!

"Not quite sure what time I'll be home for there are some old colleagues from my Burston days there so we may have dinner," I had told them, agreeing arrangements for the kids' meals.

"Don't worry about me, I've got a client dinner," Richard advised, "I won't be home until probably eleven."

"It must be difficult for you making excuses," Jack went on kissing my hair.

We were lying on the bed naked. It was surprising, well to me at least it was, how quickly both of us had got used to being naked with the other. I am a little self conscious about that. I don't really like being seen naked in changing rooms, I don't walk around the home undressed and I'm not even that comfortable being topless on a beach or by a pool. And, of course, I hadn't been naked with any man other than Richard for such a long time!

It's not because I am worried about my body. I am very lucky with that for I am fairly slim naturally, I don't have a swollen tum, there's no signs of cellulite, yet, and my tits haven't started to sag. It's more emotional I suppose, perhaps due to a strict upbringing, but it's also been made worse by my bloody nipples. I do have, though I say it myself, good boobs. They are full and round, not like some that, although sticking out some way, have a small diameter. Mine do both. They are, as Richard describes them, a bloody good handful!

My areola aren't that big, about average I would say and they are a nice coral pink. It's my nipples that give me problems. It's not that they are unduly big, but they are very perky; they always look as if I am aroused or very cold and that can be hugely embarrassing.

"Yes it is rather, Jack, but I suppose that goes with the territory doesn't it?"

"Territory?"

"Yes. It's the price I have to pay for this," I smiled running my fingers through his pubic hairs and touching the top of his soft, just used cock as I turned my head and kissed him.

"Cheap at twice the price I reckon," he joked back.

Those moment just after having good sex can be lovely. Both feeling mellow and close from the mutual orgasms, the couple can talk and broach the most intimate of topics. They can chat about topics that would be impossible to discuss at any other time. It's when some couples discuss their fantasies, when other admit to 'peccadilloes' in the past and when some talk about their sexual aspirations. It's at such times that Richard and I have talked about joining a swinging circle, he has said how much he would like to see me have sex with a woman and I have, reluctantly and hesitantly, admitted to being attracted to having sex with a young man; none of which, however, have survived the cold light of day!

I muttered "Even cheap at three times the price," just before we kissed, tenderly and caringly and he cupped my breast.

"How is it with you with Jane?" I asked.

"From an excuses and lying point of view it's not bad, for I'm always all over the place with the job. It's just when I'm with her and the kids."

"You feel you're betraying them, sort of letting them down?"

"Yes, something like that, it's hard to define. I feel so much for them, but then at the same time I miss you so much," he said stroking my breast. His words and touch made me tingle.

"I know exactly what you mean Jack, I feel the same."

We kissed deep and long. He caressed my breasts and I stroked his stomach. I found his cock and gently rubbed that. Was it starting to grow, I wondered? But then I remembered that this was real life, not an erotic novel and in that, forty five year old men don't often recover in twenty minutes and they certainly don't shag four or five times in an afternoon, even a long one!

After lunch and coming up to the large, top floor bedroom I had been nervous. This time, however, it was not about having sex for the first time with Jack, it was about hoping he didn't make me cum too quickly as he had last time.

We had, of course, kissed each other immediately we were in the room; we were hungry for that and for each other. This time though, I started to undress myself and Jack followed suit. Although I had begun doing it for other reasons, it became immensely erotic.

I undid my blouse, he unbuttoned his shirt.

I looked at his flat, muscular, hairy chest and he stared at my boobs in the see through, white lacy bra.

I slid out of my skirt, he gasped and smiled as he saw the light tan, lacy topped hold ups.

He removed his trousers and it was my turn to gasp at the tight grey CKs with the lovely, big lump running right up the middle of them pushing the waist band out from his stomach.

I turned my back inviting him to unclip my bra.

"If sir would oblige?" I said smiling.

"Sir most certainly will", he retorted coming up behind me, pressing his erection against my bum and reaching round and squeezing my boobs. That worried me a bit, but it also thrilled me.

"I meant the clasp Jack, nothing else," I laughed squirming away from him and undoing it myself.

I turned back to him keeping the bra in place by holding the cups. We stared at each other, it was, or so it seemed, a seminal moment. I felt enormously aroused and so very close to Jack at that moment. Again, that feeling of everything other than him and me faded away. That was all there was, I felt that he and I were my world as I slowly moved my hands away from my breasts taking my bra with them. I felt sort of humble, yet so wanted and feminine as Jack let out his breath, shook his head stared as I flaunted my boobs at him.

"Oh Cat they are so lovely."

"Thank you kind sir," I whispered back feeling adventurous. I cupped each of my breasts and lifted them. He came towards me and stroked my nipples. "Mmmmm, but there's a price to pay to do that," I smiled.

"And what may I ask is the price?"

I stepped back, still holding my boobs, lowered my gaze and nodded at his boxers. Obviously getting my message, he smiled and, possibly a little too quickly, pushed them down. It really was my turn to gasp now, for naked he looked awesome. I didn't at all like the thought that popped unasked and unwelcomed into my mind about him having a better body generally and a more attractive cock specifically than my husband.

"Jack you are beautiful," I sighed.

"Have I paid the price?" He asked closing the gap between us.

"In full sir, totally and completely in full."

"Then ma'am there's also a price you have to pay."

"What for?"

"Let's just call it Jack's charity," he joked pulling on the waist band of the white, lacy shorts.

Smiling I removed my knickers, but not the stockings, which in any case would be thrown away when we finished. We were soon on the bed and equally quickly Jack was in me.

We started with him lying on top of me. My legs were open and our mouths were clamped as he started to fuck me. Slow and deep, long and languid he pumped his way inside me. I raised my knees and wrapped them round him.

"Oh Cat that's great," he grunted getting further into me than he had on either of our previous times.

"Yes, Jack, ooooo, harder."

He thrust his way in and out of me going faster and faster and then stopped and held himself rigid deep inside me. He rolled us onto our sides and continued to fuck me like that and then turned onto his back so I was on top. I didn't kneel, though, that was for later. Instead I lay on top of him, but I moved not him so, in a way I was fucking him. He sucked my breasts and played with my bum, something we hadn't yet got round to. The way he flitted his fingertips across my anus, suggested that it wouldn't be long, though, before we did.

He turned us again so that I was once more on my back, we were right on the edge of the bed and almost falling off, but we didn't stop, I doubt that we could if we had wanted to. We were kissing and licking each other, rubbing, squeezing, caressing and stroking as we fucked and fucked and fucked. There was no problem this time with a premature orgasm just one with having on orgasm that went on and on and on.

"Lift your legs."

"What, how?" I asked.

"Like this," he said reaching down and behind him. He grabbed my legs mid way between my knees and ankles and started to lift. I of course understood and I helped him put my legs over his shoulders. He raised himself by straightening his arms and doing a sort of sexual hand stand so his back was arched. He used one hand on my breasts and I lifted my head and nibbled both of his nipples.

"I want to watch you cum darling," he whispered.

I smiled. "Then, my dear, you had better fuck me hadn't you," I groaned using such a basic word for the first time with him.

++

I gradually got used to having an affair, to being someone's lover, to being an adulteress.

The excuses, the lies and the subterfuge became second nature, although I hated them and hated myself for having to use them. But then, I rationalised, 'There's no free lunches!'

At times, especially when I was in bed with Richard, he had dozed off and I was lying there thinking about the future I wondered if the price I was paying was worth it. I was cheating on my husband, lying to my children and, in part at least, taking another innocent woman's husband away from her. I was spending afternoons in hotels and brief periods in the evenings in his car and the office having sex of one type or the other. Yet there was no real shortage of sex with my husband and, to be truthful, I had never had the greatest appetite for it.

Although I was getting used to it, some aspects were difficult to cope with. Weekends, for instance, when I wouldn't speak to or even see Jack let alone kiss him or have his hands on me were terrible. As was watching him in the office and not be able to talk to him as my lover. It was almost as bad when we got out of bed and went home.

But slowly I began to cope. I began to be able to compartmentalise my life. To love Jack, to enjoy being with him and to shut everything about my 'real' life from my mind. At the same time I learned to live comfortably without him and to be happy and content loving Richard and the children. With them I developed the knack of being able to 'forget my other life.' I was living my life in a parallel existence. I was coping.

Jack and I talked a lot. Before sex it was usually a bit stilted, but our post sex, pillow talk opened up. It was mainly about us. When we were together, 'us' and our future were important, but, we both agreed, when apart and back in our natural habitat, the home, 'us' was different. There was not so much the future to think of, but the present to miss. We agreed that when apart we mainly missed the other's body, yes it was the sex that we yearned for when not together. That was despite being perfectly able to have good sex with our spouses. But when together, we hated parting. Weekends were bad, Bank Holidays terrible and family vacations horrendous.

We both perfectly well realised that normal life had to go on. I continued having sex with Richard as frequently as I always had and, in some ways, maybe because of my guilt I tried harder and may even have been better.

Although Jack and I might have a 'quick grope' in the office when most had left or a 'heavy snog' in his car, actual full sex wasn't that frequent, probably every ten days to two weeks.

I knew that Jack was shagging Jane and although at times I felt pangs of jealousy I recognised that he felt the same as me. We discussed it at length and agreed that yes, it was possible to love two people.

++

As the summer wore on so did my affair.

We used hotels quite frequently. Usually we followed the pattern established at Luton the first time, but occasionally he would book in and I would go straight to the room either, before or, after Jack. For some reason, walking into a hotel, picking up the key from reception and going up to a room which had been booked for just one reason, sex, was a hell of a buzz. I got such a thrill from being a mistress in those circumstances. It was the same when we had lunch and then wandered out, usually hand in hand and took the lift up to our room. I just loved those moments and the feeling that everyone was looking at us thinking he's taking her up stairs to fuck her.

Numerous other highs emerged as the year went on.

We couldn't always use hotels. It was not only very expensive; with lunch, the room and the booze, around three hundred ponds a pop, making me feel like a high, well highish, priced hooker, but it was also not that convenient. Hotels couldn't cope with a surge of need on either of our parts and they weren't there when our circumstances changed suddenly and we had time for each other.

That's when some of the highs happened.

The first one was in the office. We had been 'an item' for a couple of months I guess, so we were pretty relaxed with each other. It was early evening and most people had gone. Jack was out and I had decided to stay late to catch up on some jobs that had fallen behind, largely due to my 'afternoons of sin' as I called them. I like working alone in the office. It makes me feel virtuous to be the only one working when the rest have gone home. It also made me feel virtuous to be telling my family the truth when I say 'I'm working late tonight.'