13 - Spiraling Out of Control

this story contains characters over age 18

Chapter 13 Spiraling Out of Control

I was living a double life. At one point, I had online profiles to four different websites, periodically looking for someone who could satisfy all my desires. I had a private e-mail account and an alias name. I had a secure app that would hold all the explicit pictures I took of myself to send to people. I had an app that I used to communicate with these people, that didn't make notification sounds or leave any record with the phone company like a text message would. On numerous occasions, I snuck out of the house while my husband was at work. Although I would never choose to be with someone if I thought I would have the opportunity to be with him, sometimes I pretended to go to work when I knew he would be home sleeping. I always made sure I had enough time to shower. I covered my tracks well.

During my time online, I also discovered how much I enjoyed talking to men, sending them illicit pictures and discussing fantasies with them. Then I met a man I found so incredibly attractive, I couldn't restrain myself. I love men, just a little more than women. I was already on the wrong road, what did it matter if I went a little further down it, just for a while? As long as no one found out, why should I deny myself? So I contacted him.

The first night, we arranged to meet at a bar. We met outside, both a little nervous. We went inside and ordered drinks. We still didn't even know each other's names. We liked the mystery, that it was a secret. We talked of inconsequential things, slowly inching closer under the table until our legs brushed together. Our eyes kept meeting, and we'd smile and look away, still nervous. We both knew where the evening was going. It was sweet, the way he almost couldn't believe I wanted it, even as I slid my leg up his. We finally decided to head for the hotel.

We got in the room and started kissing. He tasted so good, and he started working his hand up my leg, rubbing me through my panties. I could feel how hard he was through his jeans. He pulled my dress off and kissed my neck as he took off my bra. I was drowning in the sensations and the excitement. I sank to my knees as I pulled his jeans to the floor with me. I start sucking his rock-hard length, rubbing and stroking him. I wanted this so bad.

He brought me up to sit on the edge of the bed. He licked my nipples and sucked so gently. He started licking his way down my stomach, over my hips, and finally parted me with his tongue. He started licking and sucking, sliding his fingers inside me and nibbling on my clitoris, making me come as I bucked my hips and my legs trembled. He reached up to caress my breasts, making my nipples harden. I begged him to come up on the bed and fuck me.

I slid back on the bed and spread my legs wide. He slid his length between my lips, rubbing it on my throbbing clitoris, taking his time. He finally entered me, ramming it home and filling me with his hardness. He fucked me hard, then grinded slow, caressing my breasts. Finally I felt him pulse inside me again and again as he flooded me with his seed. Eventually we composed ourselves, donned our clothes, and said goodbye in the parking lot, legs still shaking.

The next day, it was as if nothing had happened. My muscles were a little sore and I was a little tired from lack of sleep, but nothing had changed. My life went on exactly as it always had, working mostly, and spending time with my family. And I felt good, exhilarated, for the first time in a long time.

I saw that first guy a few times after that, but I think he was torn between enjoying the meaningless but passionate sex-without-commitment that I provided him and worrying that I would eventually turn into a typical woman after all, wanting more. I believe he agonized over this internal struggle, eventually deciding not to contact me anymore.

The more I found myself alone, the more I explored my desires. Most of the time, I would talk to people online, "sexting," sometimes playing along by myself with my toys. I met a few people in person, leaving me with stories I could remember for the occasions when I didn't have the opportunity to meet with anyone. Writing explicit stories about the experiences was another way to make the effects last longer. I posted them to my profile on the hookup website, and even found another website dedicated to amateur author's with a penchant for erotic writing.

I met another man who liked to write about fantasies, and then we would meet and see where they went. One night, he fulfilled one of mine. I left the door unlocked and waited naked and kneeling, eyes closed, in the bedroom. Every sound was magnified with the effort of keeping my eyes closed. I heard the front door open, heard his shoes hit the floor. Then the bedroom door opened, closed. I heard his zipper slide down and his clothes hit the floor.

He rubbed himself over my lips, teasing me. "Stick your tongue out, baby." He rubbed himself against my tongue. I licked it and moaned appreciatively. "Show me how much you want this." I opened my mouth wide, grabbed his hips, and leaned forward, taking him down my throat. "Get up, bend over the bed and show me how you pleasure yourself," he growled. I leaned forward over the bed, reach down, and spread myself open. He knelt behind me to taste, then stood, grabbed my shoulders, and rammed himself into me, pounding over and over, sending me over the edge moaning with pleasure. He rolled me over, telling me to rub myself. He knelt on the bed in front of me, running himself over me slowly, making me wait for it until I couldn't stand it anymore. I began to beg him.

He lifted my hips and thrust deep, slowly, leisurely, rubbing my clitoris with his thumb as his eyes burned into mine. He started to move faster. As he felt me getting closer, he slowed down again and pulled out, denying me the climax. He moved down to suck my nipples, caressing my breasts, placing sweet kisses on my stomach and hips. He swirled his tongue around my swollen bud, licking me back and forth, flicking his tongue over me. He pushed two fingers inside me, then a third, curling them against my G-spot, turning his hand and rubbing me all over inside. Oh, this is what I wanted, what I needed from him, and he was so amazing. I arched my back, screaming, grabbing the back of his head, tugging his hair. Finally my wetness gushed out, right into his mouth, all over his fingers. He brought his fingers to my mouth, letting me taste my own juices. I saw him getting harder as I sucked on his fingers, swirling my tongue around, teasing him.

He pulled me off the bed, making me bend over again. He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and fucked me hard and fast. Mmm, I felt him pulse inside me, filling me. We laid there breathing heavily, him stroking my skin, tracing the lines of my tattoo up my spine, running his fingers over my backside and between my legs, feeling my wetness. He stroked me, up my back, across my shoulders, back down between my legs, over my sex. He did this again and again, each time spending a little more time between my legs. Finally, he stroked my oversensitive clitoris hard and fast, making me orgasm over and over again. His fingers trailed up and down my back and shoulders again, slowing my heart rate, calming me and bringing me back down to reality.

Life continued, apparently normal on the outside. I was the picture of loving wife, devoted mother, productive member of my household. Alone every night, I quietly plotted my next move, often living in this remembered fantasy world. Sometimes I would find out about an upcoming opportunity in my schedule, and then spend an immeasurable amount of energy trying to fill it. I never wanted to be alone if I had at least an hour, and I rarely had to be alone.

The worst side effect of this was when plans would fall through. "Even the best laid schemes often go awry." When this happened, I would become unusually disconsolate, plunging into depression. Most of the time, I can let mishaps roll off my back, but with this, somewhere deep inside of me I felt wholly undesirable, and that it was just one more thing wrong with my life.

One sexy young man passionately made love to me for hours on a few separate occasions. The first time we met in private he started kissing me sensuously the second he walked in the door, rubbing me all over, pulling me tight against him so I could feel his hard length through his shorts rubbing against my sex. His goal was to make me climax more times in one setting than I ever had before. I led him to the bedroom, where he pushed me down on the bed, stripping off my shirt and bra, kissing me down my neck to bite and suck my nipples, rubbing his hardness against my sex.

He pulled me up to straddle him, rubbing me through my short shorts. Finally, he pulled my shorts and panties off. He started licking, gently at first, just barely opening me with his tongue, running it back and forth, touching my throbbing clitoris lightly with his tongue. He flicked, sucked, and licked me to climax, sucking my clitoris between his teeth, finally working his fingers inside me gently, slowly. I loved how he was taking his time, thoroughly enjoying my moans as I arched my back and bucked my hips, urging him on. He alternated between licking me and fingering me hard, really stroking my G-spot.

I pushed him down, ripped off his shorts, and took him deep in my throat. When he couldn't take it anymore, he urged me upward to ride him. He pushed me off as he started to come and I licked it off him, savoring the taste. He pushed me over and began to push his still-hard length back into me, thrusting hard, faster and faster. He rubbed my sex, making me climax again, just as I felt him convulse and flood me with another huge sticky load. He lay on his side behind me, rubbing me, feeling me covered in our mixed juices.

He pushed himself into me again, slowly, leisurely, both of us enjoying the feeling of the other. He started rubbing me hard again, bringing me to climax. He whispered in my ear, urging me on. He rolled us over, bringing me up on my knees to pound deep into me. I rotated my hips, taking him further inside me. He slipped one finger inside along his length, pressing backward. It felt so good. He slipped another finger in, rotating them around to swirl them against my G-spot, still thrusting into me. He pulled himself out as he slipped his last two fingers in. I loved the feel of his fingers against my G-spot, and as I pushed back against his hand he pushed it all the way inside me. Oh! He rubbed me so hard inside and out, rubbing my clitoris with his other hand, and I exploded as I heard him urging me on. Finally, I collapsed against the bed as he drew out of me.

We lay together for a moment, then we were almost out of time. He pulled his clothes on, and I pulled mine on. He started kissing me again, pushing me down to the bed. He slipped a finger under my panties, pushing into my wetness again as he kissed me over and over. The desire was so strong. "Don't move," he said, then stood next to the bed, pulled himself out of his shorts, pulled my shorts and panties to one side and pushed into me again. A few more minutes of pleasure, then he really had to leave.

Sometimes, it felt like my exploits were imprinted on my skin, a veritable scarlet letter for anyone to read, but I knew that they were not. I knew that as long as I continued to control every detail and maintain a neutral front, carrying on as I always had, that no one would ever know. Self-preservation, learned as a child, kicked in.

It wasn't always easy to be neutral. I found it hard to resist the temptation of talking to certain people all the time. I didn't want to be obvious about having a conversation with someone and not being able to explain who or why, but it was hard to tear myself away from the screen of my phone when I knew someone interesting was just a tap away, and they found me interesting.

I met a new boy toy, the first one I allowed to take voyeuristic pictures of us together. Growing bolder, I suggested we try a swinger's club, the first time for either one of us. We got there early and they gave us a tour of the place. I could tell he was wanting me already, his arm wrapped possessively around me, hand resting on my backside. As we walked, he slid his hand down my backside, under my dress, rubbing my sex and making me soak my panties. When the tour was over, we got our drinks and hit the dance floor. I moved in front of him, rubbing against him, feeling his hardness, his hand pulling my skirt up, showing my wet panties to anyone who might be watching. I turned and kissed him. We were thoroughly enjoying feeling each other's bodies, tongues entwined.

A woman introduced herself to us, slipped her tongue in my mouth, and pulled us over to meet her fiancé. The guys talked, but couldn't keep their eyes off us as she pulled me to the dance floor. We were grinding on each other, dancing away. I spanked her. Dancing, she slid down my body, then I slid down hers. We were making out again, hands all over each other, people watching us. She pulled her man's belt off, and he started to whip her with it. She gave it to me and I whipped her with it, harder and harder. Then we switched, and she whipped me. She angled it so she was hitting my sex, and left welts on my backside. I turned back to my man, extremely aroused now. I danced in front of him again while he slid his hand over my sex. He could feel the heat coming from my warm wetness. He moved my panties to the side and pushed a finger inside me, deeper, hitting my G-spot and making me moan. He pulled his finger out, and I grabbed his hand, taking his finger in my mouth, sucking my juices off it, teasing it and making him wish it was his rock-hard length instead. He asked me how it tasted, so I kissed him.

We headed to a playroom and chose a secluded bed with sheer curtains, somewhat more private than others. I sucked him deep into my throat, over and over. I mounted him, riding him hard while I rolled my hips. He grabbed my hips and lifted me up, ramming me hard. Then I turned around reverse cowgirl to pound him deeper inside me. I lay down and he started licking and sucking me. He bit my clitoris over and over, making me moan and scream. Another couple came in to use the bed next to us. The guy peeked in on us, watching me orgasm as his girl sucked him. I caught his eye and he looked away, but only for a minute. I didn't even care that I was being watched. I was in ecstasy, gripped by the hard, never-ending, whole-body climax. Finally I couldn't come anymore, and we headed back out to get more drinks and see what other people were doing.

By this time, there were naked people on the dance floor. We stood in a playroom and watched a couple of threesomes for a while. One of the hot tubs was beginning to fill with sexy, naked people, so we sat on the patio and watched as the girls knelt in the water for their mouths to be used. Another couple came to sit on the bench next to us and we talked for a minute. She started sucking her man, so I did the same. He pulled my hair, forcing himself down my throat. All of a sudden she came and knelt in front of him and asked if she could taste. I licked up one side while she licked up the other side, our tongues meeting at the tip. She went back to her man, but a few minutes later she came back, asking if I want to switch. So I knelt in front of her man, sucking his length, taking it deep in my throat, working it with my throat muscles. I came back over to my man, kissing the girl's neck and licking her while she pleasured my man with her mouth. He started to come, his load spurting out, and I leaned forward to take it in my mouth. She went back to her man, riding him on the bench right next to us.

We went back to the playroom. He lay on the bed and I knelt over his face, taking him in my mouth at the same time. I could feel myself dripping all down his face, urging me to take him further and further down my throat. He was so hard. He told me to get on all fours, because he knew I loved that position. He grabbed my hips, fucking me so hard. I rubbed myself, getting him so wet. He kept going, making me come again as he filled me with his load. We lay there together, limbs entwined, just relaxing for a few minutes. We had been going at it for hours. We roused ourselves and began to get dressed, then he ripped my panties to the side and decided to fuck me again. It was so amazing. I was raw and swollen, my panties were soaked, but I was well and truly satisfied.

We saw each other a few times after that, but he lived more than two hours away, so he always had to come see me, and it usually meant he went to work with no sleep. And he wanted more. He truly wanted a soul mate; I don't know why he ever went on a hookup website. It bothered him too much that I would never be more than just a fun time. He couldn't appreciate what I was for him. It was just depressing to talk to each other, and eventually we both stopped making the effort.

It became even easier to read the body language of the people around me, especially in men. I became more confident in myself, and found I could see the men around me who were affected by desire. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to start relationships with them, even the married ones. Men are easy; mostly they all want what I want, and they like bold women who are honest about their desires. Most men hate games, which is great because I do too. I like being able to put all my cards on the table with my paramours, and only target people I feel will do the same with me.

Targeting guys I know is more dangerous though, because they could "out" me, either intentionally or accidentally. This caused me to be very careful and highly selective, watching my targets for a long time and dropping subtle hints to learn more about their desires and mindset. Worst case scenario, if they were not like-minded, they might feel honor-bound to try to inform my husband, something I feared greatly. People are baffling, but I know some people have an inclination to do what they feel is right, even if it's not their place to do so. My relationship is nobody's business but my own, but not everyone sees it that way, believing in the need to act for the "greater good." Also, if they were not as carefully guarded as me, they might let something slip accidentally. Some of these men I worked with, and it would be too easy to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong person. But I have spent a long time observing people, and I have never yet misread a target. I do love surprising them though, when I finally decide to make a move. I love hearing about when they realized they wanted me, what it was that drew them, and what it's like now that they know.

I found a kindred spirit in a coworker, a very intelligent man who thought like me — unlike anyone else I'd ever known — who knew me at my core and encouraged me to be the person I really was. I hated that I had to be so careful around him at work. If two people spent too much time together, other people began speculating about possible affairs. If I could have spent hours talking to him, getting deep into issues and sharing personal experiences, I would never have left his office. Instead, I had to be content with occasional text conversations. I enjoyed talking to him, appreciated his unique insights and his deep understanding. I also enjoyed fucking him, teasing him, and playing with him. He had a unique appreciation for the pursuit of pleasure, truly no strings attached.

But I needed to refocus my search back to my original purpose. Women were so much harder. This would require more thought and effort. If the girls I'd found weren't right, I was just going to have to keep looking.