Cheating is Better than Swinging

"Wouldn't miss it!" he exclaimed as he smiled and his eyes got wide when he saw my attire.

Zach normally drives his full size van only when he has kid duty, but he pulled up in it about thirty meters from my car as I was waiting for him in the parking lot at Randolph Park, into the most secluded spot in the lot. I could see him smiling as I exited my car in my short skirt and sashayed over to his vehicle in my four inch heels, shoes I never normally wear at school. As I entered his vehicle he genuinely said "You look even better today than normal, Amy - and that's saying something."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," was my cheeky response.

We uncomfortably chatted for a few minutes while I got up my nerve. By the time that he said "So what did you want to talk about, Amy?" I had steeled myself.

Staring directly into his eyes I asked "Do you have a genuine sexual attraction to me Zach?"

He didn't respond for at least thirty seconds as we continued to make eye contact. He placed a hand on my bare knee and then, without a hint of levity in his voice, growled "My main goal in life is to shove my cock so far up your pussy that it tickles your tonsils."

"I...I guess that's a complete response... to my question," I gulped, but then deflected him as he leaned over for a kiss. "However, I have some follow-ups that are important," I responded, hoping that I could maintain my cool for a little while longer despite the gusher bubbling at my crotch."

"OK," he smiled.

"I want any personal communications and activities between us to never, ever, under any circumstances to be revealed to any other person; and I want absolutely no public displays of affection between us in any situation whatsoever. I want no phone calls, text messages, or emails between us unless we establish an unbreakable code. Understand?" I said/asked.

"I understand, and agree wholeheartedly," he retorted.

"If we fuck after today, I want it understood that it is a biological function and that it will not adversely affect our marriages," I choked out.

"It may end up as more than a biological function," he snarled, "but it won't affect our marriages."

I sighed and then started removing my top. He stopped me, and said "Let's go to the back of the van."

I moved between the first and second row of captain's seats to what turned out to be an almost full sized bed area in the back, with a clean bedsheet over a foam pad, and he followed.

Then the ravaging began. I don't know for sure which of us was the more ravenous, but it didn't make any difference. Hands, tongues, and lips, were moving all over the place as we somehow got naked without permanently ruining any clothing. I only got a fleeting look at his cock - enough to see that it was very hard, very thick, and very proud - and only a quick fondle of his low-hanging testicles before I was on my back with my legs splayed outwardly and I was being penetrated. Despite the girth of his meat I was so fucking wet that he entered me in one thrust, mutual grunts emanating from our lungs.

As we vigorously fucked, like two jungle cats in heat, we maintained eye contact throughout. His eyes were smoldering as he lustfully stared at me, one hand supporting himself and the other mauling one of my tits, as he pistoned in and out. I bucked back as furiously as he was pounding me while continuously pulsating my pc muscles. Our virtually simultaneous orgasms were epic, and debilitating, and I swear that I completely emptied my Skeen's gland. I don't think that I had ever had simultaneous clitoral and Skeen's gland induced orgasms before, but I sure did then as Zach injected copious amounts of seminal fluid into my anxious vagina, each injection accompanied by a loud and primeval grunt.

We finally stopped moving, and I might have fallen asleep, although it is much more likely that I passed out. It seemed that Zach was having the same issue, and at one point was so out of it that he laid his full weight on me, although he quickly recovered and didn't squash me.

It was by far the best missionary fuck of my life - maybe the best fuck of any type. I certainly never remember having had two different types of simultaneous orgasms of my own before.

With both of us panting and sweating, Zach rolled off me to the side. "You soaked my sheet, and probably the foam pad too, sexiest bitch of all time," he snarled.

"Are you complaining?" I chuckled.

"Hell no - it was the best experience of my life. You're an absolute fuck goddess - Aphrodite with a vice-like ejaculating pussy," he snickered.

Twenty minutes later we had balled up the sheet, wiped up any excess fluid with our underpants, and were reasonably presentable. As I kissed Zach goodbye I didn't need to say anything except "Someday next week?"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he smiled.

I walked bow-legged back to my car carrying my underpants, hoping that no one could see my ravaged body with cum leaking down my thigh. I drove home and showered and douched before I went to pick up the kids at my Mom's, hoping that I didn't look like I felt - a thoroughly fucked slut.

My mother raised her eyebrows at my appearance and asked "What's with the funny look?"

I'm sure that she accepted my half-truthful explanation of "I just exercised as intensely as I ever have in my life."

*************

The next day - Thursday - between our 9 and 11 o'clock classes, Zach and I didn't go to the cafeteria, but just went into a fairly isolated courtyard at the school. We saw no reason to be coy.

"You are one incredible fuck, Amy," was Zach's opening salvo.

"Not bad yourself, Mr. Williams," I said with a smile, uttering the understatement of the decade.

"So how do we go about copulating regularly without in any way harming our marriages? I know from talking with you, and seeing you with your kids, that you don't want to harm your relationship with Kevin any more than I want to harm mine with Trinity. Neither Kevin nor Trinity have done anything - at least that I know of - that led us to fuck our brains out yesterday - it's solely animal instinct on our parts.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Zach, I chuckled; "you must have minored in psychology."

After we both smiled I got down to brass tacks. "Like we preliminarily said yesterday, we have no PDA at any time, under any circumstances. We also never go to the other's house, avoid even meeting the other's spouse if we can help it, we don't use motels, and the only communications that we have are in person."

"While we can use my van quite often, we'll also have to find another location - but I've already got that in the works," Zach replied. "Plus, we can't always be sure that we can arrange things in person; I think that we need burner phones, or fake email accounts."

"I'm afraid that burner phones could be problematic - let's try email fake accounts and codes; let me work on something; in the meantime, what about next week?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"How about Thursday, my van, Randolph Park, 12:30?" Zach smiled.

"Sounds good," I responded. "If we didn't have a taboo on PDA I'd put my tongue down your throat you right now," I chuckled.

By Tuesday of the next week I had worked out our code for a new email account (on ZOHO) that would always be password protected. One of us would do a draft email that would say "Can we have a phone discussion about possible artwork projects on..." and then give a date and time that was one day and two hours later than we would meet. When the other person would use the password to go into the email account he/she would delete the draft and replace it with either "Yes," "No," or another date and time, again one day and two hours later than the actual rendezvous. As places for meetings changed we would use "call my cell phone" if we would meet in one location, "call my business phone" if another, and "call my home phone," if a third place. Of course no calls would ever actually be made.

When we met in Zach's van on Thursday, we didn't waste any time. We got right down to business. His cock stroking in my tight pussy while I was in doggy position at the same time that he was mauling my tits, and I was squeezing and releasing my pc muscles and stroking his testicles each time that they swung between my legs, may have been the most intense feeling of my life - that is until he discharged a copious amount of cum into me as he grunted like a weightlifter pushing 400 pounds over his head. I momentarily blacked out. I woke up to having squirted again, only this time Zach had triple bedsheets and a hydrophobic sheet over the foam pad so that we didn't need to use our underwear for cleanup.

After we regained a semblance of normalcy he chuckled "Wow - best ever Aphrodite."

I was about to respond "Back at you Eros" when I was hit by an orgasmic aftershock almost 50% of the intensity of our fuck. Instead I just groaned while grabbing my crotch and his balls. He laughed until he was also hit by his own aftershock.

And so began my extremely rewarding clandestine relationship with Zach Williams. We used his van once a week for the next three weeks, but after that he had a surprise for me.

Zach had a successful consulting business in addition to his work at the University (you can't make ends meet teaching six class sessions a week), and moved his office to a location close to the University. His office was right next to a multi-story mall parking lot, and he had a separate, hard-to-find back entrance to a room in his office directly from the parking lot. He had a pull out couch, with a very comfortable double bed, in that back room. He gave me a key to the back entrance, and over the next five years we made very good use of that facility.

My liaisons with Zach never detracted from my relationship with my family. What those liaisons did was keep me extremely happy and stable mentally and emotionally so that I could calmly deal with the myriad of problems that always crop up in families, especially those with two extremely active and bright children. While it was not guilt that motivated me - perhaps because of my emotional makeup due to my unusual upbringing and since I didn't actually "love" Kevin even though I enjoyed his company and considered him a virtually ideal husband - I made sure that Kevin was sexually satisfied. In fact I initiated sex about half the time, and only once in those five years did I ever turn him down, when I for still unexplained reasons got the only migraine headache of my life.

**************

Over the five years of my physical relationship with Zach we probably had sex sessions an average of 45 times a year. We would have liked it once every single week, but of course life's complications do not allow that. There were times that one or both of us, or our children, were ill; there were family vacations; there were business or personal circumstances that made a rendezvous impractical; etc. We were never manic about getting together even though from the physical standpoint when we did fuck it was the highlight of both of our weeks. We tried every position, toy, and scenario imaginable, including things that we would never do with our spouses lest we be considered "weird" or "perverted." I was certain that we never fell "in love," me because I knew that I was incapable of romantic love, and Zach probably because he loved his wife Trinity.

Both my kids were happy and well adjusted; and Kevin regularly effusively praised our relationship, both sexual and non-sexual.

***************

During one week when Zach and I couldn't have a sexual interlude because he had broken his arm, I found out the next week - when I "had" to ride him reverse cowgirl while he fingered my ass with the hand on his unbroken arm - that he had had a bad time for a few days, and contrary to his other experiences with agony had taken some high powered pain pills to be able to sleep at night. It was two weeks after that that the strangest situation in my professional and personal history occurred.

By that time, since my kids were old enough for school, I did consulting on the side with a few other psychologists, cleverly in an office building on the opposite side of the parking lot from Zach's office and our little fuck nest (which really made things easy for our weekly sexcapades). I was sitting in my consulting office on a Monday - a day when I then had no classes at the University - when our receptionist announced a "Mrs. Simpson" to see me. "She doesn't have an appointment."

I knew of no "Mrs. Simpson" and I normally don't like walk-ins, however I was doing a boring juvenile assessment and needed a break so I told the receptionist to send her in.

When she walked into my office and shut the door I immediately realized that "Mrs. Simpson" was in fact Trinity Williams, Zach's wife. While Zach and I had been careful to avoid ever meeting the other's spouse, I recognized Trinity from the photograph that Zach had of his family on his office desk both at the University and at his fuck nest office. I surreptitiously immediately turned on my innocuous digital video camera with sound recorder in my office (in our state recording is legal if even just one person in a conversation consents to it).

One thing that I immediately noticed was that Trinity was better looking than I am. While our bodies were both athletic, and our legs and height essentially the same, she had a prettier face and bigger boobs.

"Hi Mrs. Simpson," I said with a smile; as a psychologist I am also a great actress, and am able to maintain calm with no "tells" regardless of the circumstances (people don't like to play cards - especially poker - with me because I usually clean them out). "What brings you to see me?"

"I'm not really Mrs. Simpson," she said gruffly, even though she did shake my hand. "I'm Trinity Williams."

"Do I know you?" I asked with a puzzled look on my face.

"Do you know any people named 'Williams?'" she inquired, still curtly.

"I know Zach Williams who is an instructor like I am at the University, and I know Diane Williams who is a neighbor of mine," I immediately replied - and then pretended to think for a while. "Those are the only two people with the last name Williams that I can think of that I know personally. Why do you ask?"

"I'm Trinity Williams, Zach's wife," she almost growled.

"Please have a seat," I replied with a smile as I sat down. "I've heard many good things about you from Zach, but I'm sure that we've never met. Is there something wrong with Zach?" I asked, suddenly getting a concerned look on my face. "Did he have another accident?"

"Actually, the only thing really wrong with Zach is that he is fucking you - and apparently it's more exciting than fucking me," she scowled.

"How did you come to that ridiculous conclusion?" I coolly queried.

"When Zach was on his pain meds a few weeks ago, during the night on several occasions he started talking about - and in one case tried acting out - 'fucking goddess Amy,' and words to that effect."

"Did you confront him about it, and what makes you think that I'm the 'Amy' he is referring to, or whomever the 'Amy' is whether it was a reality or fantasy?" I coolly inquired.

"I have since gathered other information, which I don't intend to disclose at this time. I'm really just here for one thing - and that is to insist that you to let me know in advance when your liaisons with Zach are going to occur. You can still keep fucking him - I just need to know when, not even where."

"If what you are accusing Zach and I of is true, why would you want us to continue, and why do you want to know when?" I asked. Now I wasn't acting, I was truly puzzled.

"I'm not playing games, Mrs. Watkins. I'll call you on Wednesday. Either then you'll agree to let me know your rendezvous times with Zach in advance or you won't. If you don't I will be providing the information that I have to your husband - Kevin isn't it - and to the University," she snarled more than said. Then she got up and went to the door and opened it.

Just before she exited, she turned to me and with a snide grin said "And don't tell Zach about this conversation. If you do, the shit hits the fan." Then she left.

Even though I am normally a calm person and I don't like to admit that I'm ever rattled - this encounter shook me to the core. I immediately copied onto a memory stick the video and audio I had recorded of my session with Trinity, and deleted the original. Then I went to a pay phone - there still are some in Malls, believe it or not - in the Mall next door and called Zach.

"Hi, Zach Williams here," was his greeting.

"Zach, it's Amy. I'm calling from a pay phone. I'm violating our rules not to call each other for a very important reason - Trinity just left my office."

"My wife Trinity?" he gulped.

"The same; listen I have a video of our session that I need to play for you. Can I come over now - can you put a 'closed' sign on your door?"

He was silent for a few seconds. "Give me ten minutes, then come in the back way and knock on the inside door."

We mutually terminated the call.

Fifteen minutes later Zach was viewing the video. He obviously was nervous and couldn't hide the lump in his throat or the sweat on his forehead. After I removed the memory stick from his computer I asked "What information do you think that she has, and why do you think she'll allow us to continue but wants to know when we meet?" I stammered out.

"A compound and challenging question," he mused. Zach sat silently for a good two minutes before he responded. "I don't think that I should speculate on why she wants to know the times in advance or why she'll allow us to continue. However, when she calls on Wednesday I do want you to give her a date and time - I'll let you know by Wednesday morning what date and time to tell her."

"Should we cool it in the meantime?" I asked.

Zach smiled despite the situation. "No, Thursday the cast will be off my arm and I need your unparalleled ministrations; so please, let's keep that appointment."

We kissed, he gave my ass a firm pinch with his good hand, and I exited the back entrance. I threw the memory stick into a garbage can in the Mall on the route to my office.

Afraid to use our draft folder email system in case it had been compromised, during our break at the University on Tuesday Zach surreptitiously handed me a slip of paper that read "Tell her Monday from 11 a. m. to 1 p. m."

I quickly memorized it, and threw the note in the recycle bin while I got a cup of tea and a scone.

Wednesday Trinity called from a pay phone, using the moniker "Mrs. Simpson" with the receptionist. All that she said when I answered was "This is Trinity. Are you going to tell me in advance about all your upcoming liaisons with Zach, or do I go nuclear."

Her voice indicated that she had no suspicion that I had told Zach about our meeting - which was in conformance with what Zach had told me on Tuesday, namely that he had put on an award winning acting job and was sure that Trinity did not suspect.

"This upcoming Monday between 11:00 a. m. and 1:00 p. m. is our next liaison. I'll let you know the others in the future by calling your cell from a payphone," I responded. They we both terminated the call.

Thursday we had our pre-arranged rendezvous in Zach's back room. I had a feeling of dread that I couldn't explain, like that maybe this would be our last liaison; and I wondered if Zach felt the same way. The result - whatever we were feeling - was that we were more passionate than at any other time in our already steamy, plasma hot, sexual relationship. Normally our sessions lasted about an hour. This consummate episode, maybe fueled on Zach's part by a little blue pill, lasted two hours - with no sleeping - and by the end my pussy, tongue, and asshole were the most tender that they had ever been, and we were both walking bow-legged.