Seduced By His Mistress

Walking into the bar I was more nervous than I'd been in years. The old me, the me from just 6 short weeks ago, would never have dreamt of even entering a place like this, let alone meeting up with a woman I'd found online. But you see six weeks is a very long time and I needed to feel alive again. I needed to feel lust and passion and desire. I needed to see what I was missing and I really needed a great fuck.

Striding into the dark bar I tried to hold my head high and extol a confidence I didn't really feel. Turns out I didn't need to bother. Nobody even looked in my direction which would have hit my confidence had it not been for their attention firmly focused on the almost naked woman on stage.

Part dive bar, part burlesque house, the Silken Kitty was famous for its cheap beer and beautiful women and I'd been surprised when she'd suggested we meet here. Now as I focused on the dark haired beauty on stage and recognising her as my Midnight Angel it all became clear.

It probably seems like a strange thing to do considering the circumstances but at the time it seemed like the perfect solution. My husband and I had been married for 6 years and things were currently far from good. I'd had my suspicions that he was cheating, no-one works hours that long, not even him. We still had sex but it was perfunctory, vanilla sex.

The only foreplay consisted of him squeezing my tits for a few minutes before flipping me over to fuck me from behind. I didn't even bother to fake it any more, I'd just wait for him to slip out of me and fall asleep before getting up and going to my bathroom to finish myself off.

It had only been like this for the last few months, before that our sex life was dynamite, there was nothing off limits to us and we would routinely make love for hours. We'd had a similar episode early on in our marriage, a few months where he'd taken to sleeping in the spare room and avoiding my attempts at seduction.

I'd addressed it then and he'd told me he was stressing out over the corporate takeover he was overseeing and that he didn't want to take it out on me. I knew he was a busy man and I'd accepted his reasoning then but something now told me that work wasn't the issue.

Being the third wife of one of the richest men in the state I knew just how many women coveted my position. He was a catch, handsome, sexy, smart and richer than Croesus. There wasn't much a woman wouldn't do to land a man like that. I knew because I had done just about everything to become wife number 3.

I'd been a highly successful CFO in my own right and being head hunted by his Company at the age of 27 had been the highlight of my career. Suddenly I was launched into the big time and was handling the kind of numbers that could finance a small country.

The responsibility was immense but I've always been a Type A personality and loved the pressures of working in such an intense environment. Two weeks after I'd started I'd been called into his office to be introduced to the big boss and that had been it.

Just being in his presence made my skin tingle and within minutes I was in full blown lust. As we talked about trajectories and planned projections I couldn't stop myself picturing him naked, fucking the shit out of me and giving me the kind of pleasure I'd only ever read about.

I knew he was married, I knew he was older and I knew he was my boss. I had been hired because of my reputation for getting things done, and in that instant he was what I wanted to do.

It was easier than I'd thought. A few weeks of flirtatious looks and increasingly lower cut tops and suddenly I was invited out for drinks to "celebrate" my first month in the job. Sitting in the bar of a very upscale hotel we drank champagne and talked about business and my goals for my career when he leaned forward and told me he wanted to fuck me.

Within 10 minutes we were inside the penthouse suite and he was inside me and it felt incredible. Everything coalesced in that night, chemistry, lust, passion and we had the kind of sex people dream about. It was hot and sweaty and in his arms I was a wild woman.

Within a month I was living in an apartment in his building and his wife was being served with divorce papers and within a year we were married. I stayed as CFO until our wedding and dedicated my life afterwards to being a full on corporate wife.

It's my job to look the part so my days are filled with personal trainers, aestheticians, visits to the salon and manicurist. My breasts have been surgically enhanced, I've been liposuctioned and last year I underwent a vaginaplasty. And through it all, well except after the vaginaplasty, we have fucked like animals.

On our wedding night I gave him my ass as his wedding gift and as he buried his cock inside my body he told me that I was the woman he'd been waiting for, the perfect combination of beauty, sex appeal and intelligence. His former wives had just been a necessity to allow him to build his business and now we were together his life was exactly what he'd dreamed of.

We really did have it all, I loved my life, I worshipped my husband and our sex life was completely uninhibited. For the next 6 years we travelled the world, dining in the finest restaurants, drinking the best champagne and fucking in the classiest hotels the world had to offer. I wanted for nothing... until 2 months ago.

My first suspicion was his disinterest in sex. Aside from the few weeks he spent in the guest room and my rest periods after surgery we had fucked at least twice a night for 7 years. That's about 5000 orgasms minimum. At first I'd been worried that there was something wrong health wise, he was in his mid fifties and as strong as his libido was, Viagra had been invented for a reason. As I opened the door to his den to ask him if he was okay I found him masturbating furiously as he watched porn on his iPad. So that answered that question.

A search on his browsing history showed he was watching porn daily and that he seemed to be into brunettes, particularly long haired perky breasted brunettes with bare pussies. My tits were the best money could buy so a trip to the waxer and the colourist later and I arrived at his office naked under my coat to test my suspicions.

His look of surprise at my hair colour soon changed to one of lust as I dropped my coat and he seemed mighty interested when I knelt before him and took his cock deep into my throat. At home that night he went down on me for hours until I was incoherent and boneless before turning me onto my stomach and riding me hard to completion.

Satisfied that I've solved the problem I made weekly appointments for my hair maintenance and carried on as normal, relieved that my husband could still get hard for me even if I had to go from blonde to brunette to do so. My relief however was short lived and after a few days, we were back to our old routine.

My second suspicion was his increased absences, working later and later during the week and having to suddenly drop everything to fly out for a weekend conference. I was used to him having to go away but this was becoming a regular event.

Previously I'd fly down with him and explore whichever city we were in while he had his meeting before falling into bed on his return. This time he told me not to worry, that it was too last minute and I'd be too much a distraction. As always he called me every day and always brought me back a gift but something felt odd.

Even during phone sex where he would always call me by my name suddenly he was calling me baby. Not "Oh Mellissa, you're getting me so fucking hard!" but "Yeah Baby, you're so fucking good!" I've read enough Cosmo to know that men using nicknames is not a great sign, if he's calling you by your name he knows exactly who he's with but if he's calling you a pet name it's usually to avoid calling you by someone else's.

Between the nicknames, the porn and the short lived renewed interest in me as a brunette I was sure that there was someone else. I didn't want to believe it but I was wife number 3 myself so I wasn't blind to the situation. I had been the younger, hotter babe who lured him from his ex so it seemed plausible after all this time that I too would be replaced. Nothing between us had really changed but the grass is always greener and I would be fooling myself if I'd thought this would never happen.

Thankfully our pre-nup was ironclad and if we did divorce I would be taken care of. If we divorced as a result of his infidelity then I would get almost everything so I was pretty confident that whilst he was probably fucking someone else our marriage would remain intact. It hurt like a mothafucker but I knew things would be okay. His infatuation would burn out and hopefully we'd return to how we were.

Of course life has a habit of kicking your ass. He came back from his trip with a stunning diamond bracelet and flowers and went back to his routine. We still had sex every night with me on my stomach and him taking from behind with routine precision. I tried to get into it but every time I got close I'd picture him fucking one of his porn girls or any number of brunettes in our acquaintance and I'd dry up like a flower in the desert sun.

I became obsessed with knowing who she was and stalked his email like a crazy person.

After weeks of torment and a shit load of lube I decided to confront him, unable to stand the woman I was becoming. Poised to open the door to his office I heard him on the phone and recognised his tone as his sex voice. Stunned I pressed my ear to the door and listened as he crooned sweet nothings down the handset.

"I miss you so much baby... Last weekend was incredible and I can't stop thinking about how sweet your pussy tastes... I know you do baby and I love eating you even more... I wish you were here too baby, so much... I want to lay you down on my desk and watch my cock disappear into your perfect pussy... Yeah, it was made for my cock... Nothing has ever felt as good as your sweet pussy milking my cock dry."

I almost retched as I heard him tell her the things he used to say to me... verbatim. My pussy was perfect and had literally been made for him at an insurmountable cost and my personal pain. Unable to drag myself away from hearing the words which threatened to rip me apart I sank into the door and bit back tears.

"My ex wife never made me cum like I do with you baby, I only have to think about your perfect body and I'm hard... No baby, you are perfect... I know I like big tits but yours aren't exactly little are they?... Baby, I don't need to fuck your tits when I have your world class pussy wet for me do I?... How wet baby?... Tell me how wet you are for me... Let me hear how much you want me to fuck you..."

I heard the sound of him whacking off and wished I had the courage to just bust through the door. His ex-wife?! I was getting divorced?! Asshole. Defeated I started to push myself away from the door, but found my legs couldn't support me. He had literally pulled the rug from underneath me. Torn between staying where I was and crawling down the hallway I heard his breathing kick up a notch and realised he was about to cum.

"Oh baby girl... When I see you next I am going to kiss every inch of your body just like that... No really... I'll worship your tits and make you cum so hard you'll black out from the pleasure... I bet I can!... And then I want you to get on your knees and suck my big hard cock... Take it all the way down your throat until you're so full of me you can't take any more...

I want to watch your pretty face as you suck me dry baby... Oh god, I want to cum on your face so bad baby... I'm looking at your picture online now and I'm going to spray my cum on the screen as if you were here with me... Oh yeah baby... So fucking good!"

He came with a huge groan and for a second I thought, hopefully, that he'd had a heart attack. After a moment of silence he coughed and wound it up,

"Oh baby that was awesome... My cock just exploded all over your face... Ha ha yeah, I'd better clean it up I guess, I can't exactly tell my IT guys that I broke my iPad by spraying it with cum!... But it's so hot watching it drip down your face. I'm tempted to take a picture of it... Really?... Okay baby, next time I'll come all over your face and take a picture of you for real... That's going to be so hot I can't wait... Okay baby girl I will. Sweet dreams and keep that pretty pussy wet for me. Laters Angel"

Summoning the strength to stand I crept back down the hallway, a plan forming in my head. I now had the proof that my bastard of a husband was cheating on me which surprisingly gave me a huge amount of comfort. I wasn't going crazy, he was just a dick. And better than that, if I could get to his iPad I'd be able to see exactly who he was cheating on me with.

That proved somewhat harder than my initial seduction of him. Sneaking into his office hours later I found his iPad jizz free in its case. Typing in his password, Billion@ire – idiot, I waited for it to boot up and held my breath. I desperately needed to see her but I knew it was going to hurt.

Rationally I knew that there was nothing I could do to stop his affair but if he was planning to divorce me I needed to make sure everyone knew that he'd cheated. If it was just a fling then I knew I had to at least see what she looked like, even if it was so I could picture the face he was seeing when he fucked me.

Right then I hoped for the divorce because the idea of just swallowing his infidelity tore me up, I knew that I wouldn't be able to carry on pretending to be oblivious while he thought he'd got away with it. I'd physically changed since our marriage but I was still the same woman he'd been attracted to. I had a head for figures and I liked to think I was pretty smart. The concept of pretending to be so vapid that I'd ignore his treatment of me and our dismissal of our marriage vows made me sick to my stomach.

Going into the history I found the expected porn sites, his Firefox searches were an endless list of 'Busty Brunette sucks/fucks/creams/cums...". Filtering down into his recent history I found visits to the NASDAQ, Sky News, Bloomberg and Twitter but nothing stood out. I didn't know what I was expecting but I'd hoped he had logged into CheatingSpouses.com or Infidelity4U just to make my life easier.

And then it hit me, unless he was fucking a news anchor she had to be on Twitter. A few clicks later and I hit paydirt. My husband had a Twitter account and was a pretty active user, his screen name '@JamesBlaze' hit home as we'd often checked into hotels anonymously as Mr and Mrs Blaze in reference to our habit of scorching the sheets. He really did lack any originality.

His posts were mostly quotes from famous writers that he'd cut and pasted from the internet, I knew for a fact that he'd rather watch paint dry than read a book, and a few supposedly meaningful tweets that I knew where from him, "I dream of the day we can wake up together #countingtheseconds". Blah blah blah.

He only had 3 followers and followed about 50 so I set about clicking on each account to see exactly what he was up to. Man, he really liked nubile brunettes!

Mostly he followed NASCAR racers and entrepreneurs but there were a fair few porn stars and glamour models as well as some non-famous women. Even I had to admit that the 3 women I didn't recognise were hot and a trip through their photographs didn't change my mind. Looking at his followers I found they were the same three women so I set about print screening their pages for later. I wasn't sure what I would do next but I just wanted to get out of his space, the aroma of his semen lingering in the air made my stomach lurch, and clutching my evidence in my hands I bolted to the guest room.

Turns out its super easy to stalk people on Twitter. Sitting in the salon the next day as my colourist stripped the brown out of my hair I surfed through each of the women's feeds. One was a dancer at a club in town, one was a bartender/model at a hotel bar we frequented and the other was an aspiring actress from LA.

All 3 could potentially be the other woman but I wrote off the actress as being too far away. So it was between @MidnightAngel and @CocktailsAndCatwalks. Honest to God, everyone online is a comedian. As my hair slowly reverted to normal I created my own account, and as I lacked their creativity I went with @AmericanBlonde.

Once set up I trawled through his feed again and found he'd messaged each of the three within the last few days, the actress had landed a spot in a commercial which he'd congratulated her on, Cocktails had posted a picture of her new haircut which he'd said was "HOTTTT!" and MidnightAngel had tweeted about her weekend away to which he'd commented "Looks like Paradise". As the most beautiful of the 3, MidnightAngel caused me the most anxiety and I knew in my gut that she was the one fucking my husband.

On an impulse I messaged her, "When are you next dancing? I heard you were perfection". A few minutes later she replied "Wow! Perfection huh? That's cool. You should come and judge for yourself" and posted a link to The Silken Kitty.

Hesitantly I followed the link and was actually pretty impressed with the site. Turns out she was a Burlesque dancer so while it was pretty sexy it was classy too. The dancers all had their own bios and I watched the video of her performing. I could see what my husband liked about her, sensuous and graceful with a body built for fucking. I figured she was about 22 and all natural with small tits and a tiny waist.

Impressed despite myself I tweeted back telling her how well she danced and that I wished I could dance like that. She replied that there were classes where you could learn and that I should try it. I told her that I was a bit shy and she told me to just go for it.

For the rest of my appointment we messaged each other and even though we didn't really say much I found her to be sweet and genuine. I still didn't know exactly what I was going to do about my husband and I didn't know if this girl was the other woman for sure but at least I felt pro active. The demon on my shoulder wanted me to ask her outright if she was fucking him but for some crazy reason I didn't want to upset her. Shutting down the iPad I let the colourist lead me to the sinks to rinse the chemicals out of my hair, silently hoping that the water would wash all my sadness down the drain along with the dye.

Back home, my husband took one look at my blonde hair and smiled, "I liked it darker baby." I kissed him on the cheek and shrugged, "It was nice for a change but this is the real me." He nodded and went off to his office, probably to call her for another round.

Pouring myself a glass of wine I sat at the kitchen counter and pondered my situation. If my marriage did end, financially I would be secure and mentally I knew I was tough enough to survive. If his affair ended and he came back to me, could I ever trust him again and did I even want to? I loved him, I honestly did but I really didn't like him. I craved his attention but I didn't want him to touch me.

Our lives together up until that point had been phenomenal; I wanted for nothing and had been blessed with every luxury you could think of. Clothes, shoes, diamonds, furs... I had eaten in every Michelin starred restaurant and visited every high end boutique, I had the personal numbers of at least a dozen named designers who I could call upon to make me whatever I wanted. My name opened every door and the air I had breathed was indeed rarefied.

Draining my glass and refilling it to the brim, my shoulders sagged, Stuff. I had a glut of stuff but it was all just superficial. Worse than that, it was all his. Everything I had came from his money, every conversation was about him and his interests.