A Decided Affair Ch. 02

We have been married twelve years. No children – by choice – and are very happy together. As we went on, and our work lives became more stressful as we progressed in our careers, our sex life became less passionate and frequent. Finally, a couple of years ago, I gave up the rat race and started consulting, working from home mainly. Less stressed, less tired, fitter as a result of having more time to exercise, my sex drive returned to its former state ... Susan's, of course, did not, and I began to feel increasingly disgruntled at the condition of our sex life. I would invariably masturbate in the morning after Susan had gone to work. Something had to be done. My own private fantasises as I masturbated varied quite a lot, but an increasingly common fantasy of Susan being fucked by other men was sure to get me to an intense orgasm.

One Sunday morning, as I tried to initiate love-making with my still comatose wife, I thought, why not share your fantasy? See if it turns her on. I did, and she listened as I talked quietly through my fantasy as I caressed her into arousal, then made love with her gently. After several minutes she was listening intently to me, her face alive with interest – she asked me if she could lie on top, a sure sign that she wanted to masturbate. I lay on my back and she wriggled herself onto me, lying on her back so she could reach herself. With my arms around her, cupping and squeezing her breasts, stroking them gently and teasing her nipples, she masturbated quickly to an intense orgasm, then another a few minutes later as I described watching her enjoy herself being fucked by another man.

At first she was hesitant in admitting to me that she enjoyed the fantasy, but it became a recurring theme, and our sex life picked up as she gained confidence to admit that she enjoyed it. She even began to masturbate on her own, which she hadn't done for a couple of years, even doing it when I was in bed with her.

Like most women, she refused to admit that she was attractive, which she is – 5' 8", pretty face, thick chestnut hair, slim body, those gorgeous boobs, lovely legs ... she is stunning. Add to that a great personality and abundant intelligence - I had always counted myself lucky to have her.

So, with our sex life picking up, her confidence growing and her interest aroused, she began to take a more active role in our fantasies, telling me her own or reinforcing the narrative of mine as we made love or she masturbated. She had started dressing more sexily – nothing slutty (other than on occasion at home when we acted out a particular fantasy) just chicly emphasising her wonderful body.

We got to the stage where if we were out I could see her occasionally checking out a passing guy. I asked if she fancied him – she would always say that he was ok, or quite cute. When I asked if she'd like to fuck him she would coyly deny it and tell me to stop being silly. One Sunday, sitting in a pub having lunch, a particularly attractive couple entered and Susan clocked the man with little attempt to disguise the attraction she clearly felt. He was a tall, well-muscled, and, what surprised me somewhat, given her reaction, probably in his early forties. He and his partner, a stunning blonde in, I guess, her late thirties, looked well-off and very confident.

"She's not bad, either."

"Pardon?" She asked, her attention focusing back on me.

"His partner."

"Hmm?"

"Well, you're clearly wetting your gusset over Mr Sophisticated, so I thought I'd let you know I found his partner equally fuckable."

"Oh, yes." She glanced their way again, then murmured "He is rather fuckable, isn't he?"

Lunch passed with her trying, but failing miserably, not to sneak glances at the stranger. They had a couple of drinks, then left, much to Susan's barely disguised disappointment.

When we got home she almost dragged me to bed and we enjoyed a passionate fuck as I described her fucking the man from the pub, with her adding her own embellishments and plot twists. She masturbated herself to an orgasm of freight-train proportions.

And then came the session over John ... her attitude had changed so profoundly that she was now going to embark on an affair with her boss - possibly the most risky kind of affair she could decide to have. John, the head teacher, was forty six, a big man but trim, and whilst average-looking he possessed bundles of confidence, charm and authority – as you would expect from someone in his position. At the teacher social evenings I got on well with him and his attractive wife Fiona, a forty two year old education adviser.

The next week she said nothing more about her daily contact with John, and refused to be drawn on the matter when I asked her, but on Friday she phoned after school to tell me she was going for a drink and would be back a bit late. She hung up before I could say more than 'ok'. My imagination went into overdrive ... would she be fucking John?

She came in at eight, just as the dinner I had made was ready to serve. She kissed me and hugged me tightly. I could taste and smell white wine on her breath.

"That smells good." She said, meaning the dinner.

"Lamb Madras. Nice drink?"

"Mm-hm. Can it wait a while?"

She let me go then dropped to her knees in front of me, tugging my belt, button and zipper undone before pulling my trousers and pants down. She leant forward and took my soft cock into her mouth and began to lovingly suck and work her tongue round it as I quickly engorged.

"That's nice. What did I do to deserve this?"

She said nothing, continuing with her oral attention and then using her hand to stroke my shaft as I rose to full mast. When I was ready, she stood up, turned round and pulled her skirt up to her waist; no knickers again ... this was getting to be a habit. She put both hands on the kitchen table, moved her feet apart and arched her hips up in invitation. I stepped up behind her and guided myself into her – she was ready, her labia already parted and wet ... incredibly wet.

"Mmm." She moaned softly as I slid slowly into her, savouring the clinging warmth of her begging-to-be-fucked cunt.

"Did you fuck him?" I asked quietly as I bottomed out.

"No. That's why Ineedyou to fuck me."

"Glad to be of service." I muttered somewhat sarcastically, starting to fuck her vigorously.

I reached round her hip with my right hand and found her clit with my index finger. It was firm. She wiggled her hips to discourage me.

"No, it's alright, I just want you to fuck me."

I fucked her hard, all the time feverishly imagining what she had been up to. She responded to my deep hard thrusts, arching her hips up and grunting in encouragement and pleasure as I banged into her. Soon I could feel my orgasm building up, and she sensed it.

"Yes, come in me!"

With that I began to come, spurting inside her as my muscles pulsed my release, the glorious sensations welling through my groin. I pulled slowly out of her as I softened, letting go of her hips as she stood up. Turning to me and dropping back down to her knees she sucked my soft, sticky cock into her mouth, cleaning it with her tongue. When she was done she stood once again and kissed me passionately.

"That was good – I really needed you to fuck me."

We re-arranged our clothing and we parted, me to serve the meal and her to go and change out of her business clothes. As I put the plates on the table in the dining room she rejoined me, dressed in a loose skirt and a T-shirt. I served the wine, a run-of-the-mill Cava to go with the curry and we sat down to eat.

"So?" I opened.

She looked up at me and smiled as she chewed.

"It's very good, as always."

"You know that's not what I meant." I said, a slightly petulant tone to my voice.

"What?"

"Your evening."

She grinned at me. "Later, when we're in bed."

I knew from past experience that no amount of asking, wheedling or cajoling would budge her, so I ate my meal in silence until she offered some conversation.

"Mary called me - I've invited them round for Sunday lunch. Is that alright?"

Mary was our next-door neighbour, the single mother of the delectable Kate, a nineteen year-old nymphette whose horny body and knowing flirting fuelled many of my masturbatory fantasies. Mary herself was a very attractive woman of forty two, who had once been rather plump and frumpy – possibly what led to her idiot husband Gareth leaving her for a younger, slimmer secretary in his office. Following that, she had made a determined, and very successful effort to slim down and glamour up, and had enjoyed the occasional company of one or two gentlemen, much to her errant husband's no doubt chagrin, as his relationship with the secretary had foundered after a year and he had tried to return to Mary. Mary had refused to countenance this, proceeding with the divorce, and even flaunting her rediscovered looks with her latest beau in front of Gareth at his favourite restaurant, where he was dining alone. It seems he then finished his meal very quickly and left, stony-faced.

"Does this mean there's another man in tow?" I asked.

"No, just a neighbourly lunch."

I felt vaguely puzzled by this turn of events – we'd had them round for drinks or dinner of a Friday or Saturday evening, but hadn't invited them for Sunday lunch in the seven years that we had been neighbours. When Gareth had left, Susan had often been round to console Mary, and we had been round for dinner with her, which in the early stages of the separation had been awkward, rather forced affairs. Still, I shrugged an ok and finished my meal.

We cleared up and adjourned to the living room to watch the TV for a while. I sat in the corner of the main sofa and Susan snuggled in beside me – 'assuming the position' we jokingly referred to it, as we both felt comfortable like this, with my left arm draped around her shoulder, my hand resting on or fondling her left boob, which was, as was usually the case at this time of the evening, bra-less. At ten she made getting up noises, so I switched the TV off and we made our way to bed.

We undressed with minimal fuss and crawled under the duvet. She snuggled up to me, wrapping her arm across my chest and resting her left leg across my thighs.

"So?" I tried again.

She sighed softly. "Well, I went for a drink with John. We'd been flirting all week – discreetly, I hasten to add – and he just asked me if I fancied a drink on the way home. I said yes, and so we went to the Crown and Sceptre. We sat outside in the garden on one of the benches – he was beside me. We chatted, and I turned slightly to look at him, so that my leg was pressed against his. I did all the appropriate girly things: looking intently at him, smiling a lot, giggling at his jokes and occasionally resting my hand on his thigh. When he put his hand on my knee and left it there I smiled encouragingly at him. Then he looked a bit awkward and eventually said that he shouldn't say what he was about to say and said that he was probably about to make a complete prat of himself and that if I was offended I should tell him the truth ... and then he said that it seemed we'd been flirting and he wondered if there was any possibility of it going any further ..."

I was gently stroking my cock into a passable erection in anticipation of things to come. Susan, sensing me doing something, lifted the duvet to look at what I was up to. She tutted, then pulled my hand off, replacing it with her own; much nicer. I could feel her vulva against my thigh – she squirmed gently against me and I could feel her wetness against my skin.

"So I put my hand on top of his, gave it a squeeze and leant forward and kissed him gently. Then I said 'I sincerely hope so'. He was so relieved and thrilled I just had to laugh. Then I gently encouraged his hand to move up my thigh. We couldn't do anything too obvious as there were several other people sitting nearby, so I suggested that we finish our drinks and go and sit in his car for a little while before I had to go home."

I was now fully erect and Susan was stroking me slowly and steadily, and very gently working her vulva against my thigh.

"We'd parked away from the pub, and the car park was full, so no-one could see us unless they came up close. We got in to his car and he immediately leant across and kissed me, then asked me if I was sure about this. I said 'Oh yes' and pulled him in for a proper snog. It didn't take long for his hand to start work on my breasts, and I undid a couple of buttons so he could get inside my blouse. God, I felt like a teenager - snogging in a car!" she giggled, then went serious.

She lifted herself up, straddling me, then guided my cock to her entrance. We both moaned in pleasure as she pushed herself down, my erection sliding effortlessly into her wet cunt. She lay down on top of me, resting her head on my shoulder, her mouth close by my ear. I ran my hands down her back and cupped her firm cheeks, then moved my hips to push gently in and out of her.

"He was caressing and squeezing my boobs through my bra, telling me how beautiful and sexy I was as we kissed, how much he wanted to make love to me. I reached out and rubbed my hand across the front of his trousers to find his cock ... and that's when I got arealsurprise." She was whispering sexily into my ear.

She began to work her hips in coordination with my own thrusts to increase the penetration.

"What?" I asked.

"He is very ... very ... big." She chuckled, then lifted up and kissed me.

"I broke off our kissing and looked at him wide-eyed ... 'Wow!' I said 'No wonder Fiona has that cat-that-got-the-cream look!' Right then I decided that I might just not be asking him to fuck my bottom ..."

I smiled at her "Good. At least I get to have something to myself."

"I said 'might'." She grinned at me. "Anyway, I took his hand out of my blouse and put it on my knee, then we started kissing again. I was stroking his cock through his trousers – God it felthuge. I felt his hand slide up my leg, under my skirt, and he moaned in delight when he found out I was wearing hold-ups. I opened my legs and he slid his hand right up to my pussy – he moaned again when he realised I wasn't wearing knickers and was shaved. I wassowet! His fingertips were just teasing between my labia, then he pushed a finger inside me ..."

I rolled us over and lifted myself up to look down at her. She was so beautiful, her hair cascaded across the pillow, her face so lovely, her full breasts firm on her chest, her slim waist and flat belly, her plump, hairless mons and her labia slayed pinkly out around the shaft of my cock as I fucked her steadily.

"All the time we were snogging, oblivious to the world outside. Then he slid his fingertip over my clit and began to masturbate me, occasionally sliding two fingers into me. I came in about a minute ... God, it waswonderful!"

She had reached down between us and begun to masturbate, and I increased the pace and force of my thrusts.

"I so wanted to get his cock out and have him fuck me, but we realised we'd run out of time. I told him that what we'd just done was wonderful, and I really wanted to make love with him, and I was sorry he hadn't had a chance to come, but that I'd have to go. He understood, and I buttoned myself up. I said that at least Fiona would have a good time tonight. He agreed and said that he would be thinking of me. So then I came home.'

"So that's why you were desperate to be fucked."

"Yes."

"And you were thinking of him as I did you?"

"Yes."

She was masturbating quickly now, getting close, as was I, pounding into her hard and deep. Just before she came, she gasped out 'I love you' and pulled my head down and hers up for a passionate kiss. I surged into her and erupted in my orgasm as she came, Susan pulling away from the kiss, throwing her head back as her body went rigid with the ecstasy, her face and chest flushing scarlet with the effort. After twenty seconds or so she subsided, collapsing back onto the bed like a rag doll.

"Fuck that was good!" She gasped.

I leant above her, panting, trying to get my breath back; sweat dripped off me onto her and I slowly lowered myself onto her. She groaned quietly as she took my weight. I softly kissed her shoulder.

"So when will you fuck him?"

"Soon."