A Married Women - Infidelity 

I read an essay on a story site about unfaithful women. I found myself agreeing with much the author said. But he was pretty entrenched and dictatorial in his views and seemed to think that all women could be put into a couple of categories. I can't entirely agree. I've slept with more than a few married women, and all have had different reasons for screwing around, so you can only ever generalise.

The reaction to his essay was what intrigued me, though. Most of the replies were from haters, not that much of a surprise, but the fact that many of the comments suggested that 99% of women would never sleep around and that all stories were just fiction did astound me. Have these guys not lived? One person even stated, and I quote, "If my wife wants sex with someone else, tell me, and we can get a divorce. You can shove open marriages and swinging up your ass. Anyone who is remotely religious would never do anything like this, and if they do, they are delusional."

I have to laugh at naive comments like this. I have known men who swear their wife hates sex and would never look at another man. And I've known the dirty lucky bastard screwing that same wife. Religion has nothing to do with fidelity. The most common reason I have been given is dissatisfaction with how their husband treats them.

Hell, I worked with a Pommy guy once who had travelled the world. He told me as soon as he moved into a new town, he joined the local church (Catholic was his first choice), even though he was not a Catholic; in fact, he was not the least bit religious. He stated that a church group was the best place to hook up for sex, far better than any pub or nightclub. And he said many he bonked were married, and they were some of his best fucks.

Now, was this true or false, and was he exaggerating? I do not know, but he came across as pretty genuine. I did meet the woman he was living with and knew he had met her at the local church, so I don't believe he was exaggerating.

Let's face it: After a few years in a marriage, spontaneous, great sex doesn't happen as often as it did in the past. Work pressures, money issues, children, etc., certainly soak time and energy. And getting libidos to match is never an easy task - that unique spark between couples in the first few years wains. I speak with some experience, having been married twice and having children in both marriages.

My view is that every woman has the potential to be seduced and, therefore, be unfaithful. This is a bold statement, but I believe meeting them at the right time and place and pressing the right buttons is the key. And they are definitely not all sluts, as many haters comment. However, most married women never play around. But I would argue that it is more because they are never lucky enough to find themselves in a situation where it could happen than they never would.

Airing my opinions has made me remember a fling with a married woman I met at Disneyland, Los Angeles, in 1992.

I was in L.A. on business. I had attended the ISA show in Las Vegas a few days before and then travelled to my company's head office in L.A. for meetings. At the end of the meetings, I had a free Saturday before I flew back to New Zealand the following day. I decided to visit Disneyland, a place I had always dreamed of visiting. I arrived just after lunch and hit the rides. At around three, I joined the line for the Jungle River Cruise. There were four or five lines separated by railings that fed into two, then into a single line for the ticket box. I looked over to my left and noticed a beautiful woman who looked to be on her own.

She had long dark hair and was small but looked to have a very well-proportioned figure.

The lothario in me jumped to the fore, and I spent the next few minutes manoeuvring myself in my line so that I was directly behind her when I paid for my ticket. Once on the boat, I had to push myself in front of a married couple to ensure a seat next to her. The ruffled wife I pushed past gave me a dirty look, but the husband winked at me; he understood what I was up to. I bet he would have liked to sit next to her himself.

As I sat, the pretty lady gave me an 'Here we go again' look, and now that I was up close, I saw that she was even more attractive than I had first thought. But I also noted her demeanour and presence and knew I was unlikely to get further than a few sentences with her. She had that prim, prudish look of a woman who would not put up with anything indecent.

But never mind, I've never been one to shy away from a challenge, and I apologised, saying, "Sorry, but I've been on my own for the last week, and thought as we are much the same age, you may also enjoy having someone to talk with and share the ride."

I said this as most of the patrons on the boat were young, mid-twenty-year-old parents with children, and we stood out. I guessed she was around forty, and I was forty-two. I was to find out later that she was thirty-eight, so I was close.

"Are you English," she asked. "You sound like it."

"No. I'm from New Zealand. But I lived in the U.K. several years ago and have not totally thrown the accent."

She introduced herself as Stephanie and said, "I was born in the U.K. and came to the States when I was three."

For the next twenty minutes, we talked about England, where I had lived, and that she had never been back. I kept my conversation light, telling her funny stories about places I had visited. She commented that I must have travelled to many countries, as I seemed very worldly and knowledgeable.

In those early snippets of conversation, she was at pains to explain to me that she was uncomfortable befriending a stranger. She said more than once, "I shouldn't be talking with a stranger."

I learned that she and her husband were heavily involved with the church, that she was a mental health counsellor for her church, and that she was there in L.A. attending a seminar on domestic abuse and therapy that would help in church settings.

She said she had skipped the afternoon's final session as she wanted to see Disneyland and was travelling back to Florida the next day. I knew she was giving me all this information so that I would be under no illusions about her morals and that I was not to get too familiar.

I read between the lines that she had led a very sheltered life centred around the church. And that her husband was the only man she had ever known.

But the early conversation did not deter me in the slightest. It just made it easy for me to relax and enjoy her company. Let's face it: If you expected to bed every beautiful woman you ever spoke to, you'd be a very disappointed and frustrated individual. As was my way, though, I dropped plenty of compliments into our conversation and enjoyed watching her blush and giggle with guilty pleasure at my more risqué innuendoes.

When we exited the Jungle Cruise, I offered to go on my way if she felt outside her comfort zone, as she had mentioned several times that she shouldn't be fraternising with a strange male. But I added that I enjoyed her company and would love to join her on another ride. 

Stephanie blushed and said she shouldn't, but she also enjoyed my company and would love to go on the Matterhorn roller coaster with me, as she had been a bit nervous about riding it alone. So, I playfully placed her arm in mine and walked her along to the line for the Matterhorn ride. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon trying out every ride and experience we could. Stephanie admitted that she would never have tried many of our rides if I had not accompanied her. I played the perfect gentleman but snuck glances at her fantastic figure whenever she looked the other way. She was about 5'4", slim but curvy. She wore a sundress, the hem ending well below her knees. It was bright but conservative, picked, I had no doubt, to conceal her figure. But it did not achieve its purpose very well. The buttons down the front were stretched over her chest, indicating she had a decent set of tits.

Around 5:00 p.m., the sun started to fade, and it began to get much colder. I had a jacket, but Stephanie was only wearing the sun dress. She hadn't planned to stay into the evening. However, she was enjoying herself, and when I suggested we stay for the Fantasmic show, she hesitated, obviously wanting to see it, but then declined. 

"I can't stay with a man I hardly know after dark," she explained.

"Rubbish, what's the difference between our talking and enjoying the sights in the daylight and staying together after dark? The place will be lit up like daytime anyway."

It took a little more persuasion, but she finally consented. But she was forthright about my behaving like a gentleman if she was to stay.

"Have I not been a perfect gentleman all afternoon?" I asked. 

She replied that I had, and with that settled, we set off searching for somewhere to eat.

We soon found a free table at a restaurant, and along with the food, I ordered a bottle of wine. Stephanie resisted my pouring her a glass, saying they never had alcohol in their house and that she hardly ever drank. I countered, "Well, I have ordered it now, and I don't want to drink a whole bottle myself. Besides, it will warm you up. Just have one glass with me."

Stephanie hesitantly accepted and accepted a second glass halfway through our dinner without any argument. Then, when we were ordering a dessert, a couple of cocktails arrived at our table. The older couple at the adjacent table took ownership, saying they thought we looked such a beautiful couple that they wanted to shout us the drinks. I have a feeling they thought we were on our honeymoon.

Stephanie was at pains to point out to them that we had just met and that there was nothing romantic between us. The couple were not fazed; they said we looked so comfortable and good together and for us to enjoy the drinks. The cocktails were like fruit punches, but I'm sure Stephanie did not realise the alcohol content, as she knocked hers back faster than she should have. We wanted to get out for a good position on the bank by the lake, which had some bearing on our haste.

When we got to the lake, it was already packed. Stephanie suggested we stand at the back, but I knew it would be a long show and wanted to be seated. I saw a few gaps in the crowd. One down the front, next to a couple with two children, looked promising. So I grabbed Stephanie's hand, and we carefully wound our way through the seated spectators. Once we were alongside the family, I asked the mother if she minded us squeezing in.

"Not at all," she replied, then made the kids shift over and sit in front of them.

I offered my jacket to Stephanie, as it was getting pretty cool at this stage. She was declining when the mother piped up, "Rose, give your blanket to the lovely couple. You can sit in front of me and share mine."

Rose, who was about nine, jumped up, handed me her blanket, and excitedly plopped down between her mother's legs.

The blanket was large, so I wrapped it around my shoulders and indicated to Stephanie that she sit on my jacket between my legs, and I'd wrap the blanket around us both.

I was surprised she so willingly sat and wriggled up against my chest without protest. Forty minutes before, she had protested about staying out after dark with a strange man. I wondered if the alcohol had mellowed her. But, in my books, we had not drunk very much, and she didn't appear to be at all inebriated.

Fantasmic was absolutely amazing. Neither of us had ever seen anything remotely like it. The highlight for me was Maleficent the Dragon spurting fire into the lake. Stephanie got quite a fright and wriggled back into me for protection.

Without a thought, I hugged her tight, brought my head down, and kissed her neck. As I did it, I realised I had crossed a dangerous line. But she didn't react or resist. Instead, she relaxed in my arms and sighed. So I kissed her neck again, then nibbled my way up to her earlobe. That did get a reaction, but not the one I was expecting. She turned her head to me for a kiss, which I returned with plenty of ardour.

We both looked around guiltily when we broke apart to see if our neighbours had noticed. But everyone around us was totally enthralled by the show. So we each twisted our heads and kissed again. Stephanie broke the kiss and whispered to me, "I shouldn't be doing this, but I've never had such a wonderful day."

I agreed with her, saying, "Likewise," and as the fireworks started, we kissed again. My hands found their way to her breasts. She protested and grabbed my wrists, but the blanket fell open, and she had to let my wrists go to sweep the blanket closed over her knees again. I glanced around to see if anyone noticed but saw that everyone around us still had their eyes glued to the front. 

I touched her bare leg as I reached forward to help her arrange the blanket. In sitting and wriggling around to get comfortable, the hem of her dress had risen well above her knees. Expecting to be admonished, I nervously placed my hand just above her knee and stroked lightly with my fingers.

Stephanie offered some half-hearted resistance to this. But I could tell she was more worried about the people around us noticing what I was doing. As a stunning explosion of fireworks burst forth, and Stephanie gasped out her appreciation, I moved my hand higher up her thigh, and my other hand cupped a breast again.

She turned to me to object, but when I kissed her, I felt her rigid legs relax a little, and she pressed back into me. In the next twenty minutes, I massaged my way up her legs and worked my other hand inside the buttons at the front of her dress. It was not an easy task as we had to remain pretty motionless lest those around us tumble to what was going on under the blanket. At one point, the lady sitting to our right spoke to Stephanie, asking her, "Was it not the most beautiful sight she had ever seen."

"Just wonderful... beautiful," Stephanie replied. I'm not sure she meant the fireworks, though, as her voice was husky with desire. And by that stage, I had wriggled a finger under the elastic of her panties and was exploring the folds of her drenched slit.

Stephanie seemed less worried about our neighbours than me and kept turning her head for some passionate kissing. As the last fireworks expired, I pulled her dress down and whispered in her ear that we needed to go, as the family were packing up and we needed to give the blanket back.

I was mortified as I opened the blanket and slipped it from my shoulders. The sexual aroma that permeated the air was heady and pungent. I nervously handed the blanket to young Rose, terrified she would ask what the smell was. But she gave no indication that anything was unusual, and with some relief, I grabbed Stephanie's hand, and we hurriedly made our way towards the exit and out into the car park.

I asked where she was staying.

"In the Disneyland Hotel," She exclaimed. "But we can't go there, as other delegates are on the same floor as me."

That one statement told me all I needed to know. Stephanie was not looking to dump me and scurry off to the safety of her hotel. On the contrary, she was keen to stay with me for a while. Although I still doubted that she would go further than the light petting we had already done, I now did not doubt that she wanted to go somewhere private and continue our amorous antics.

I didn't want to take her to my hotel in Irvine, which was miles away. So I told her I would take her back to her hotel, let her out at the front door, and park my car. Then, if the coast was clear, I could come to her room. But only if none of her fellow delegates were around.

Unbelievably, she didn't oppose this and gave me her room number. But when I pulled out front to let her out, a bellhop approached us and asked for my car keys. Stephanie hesitated, then said to put it on her room number, and she let me escort her into the hotel lobby. She had a good look around, and, as there was hardly anyone in the lobby at that hour, I stayed beside her as we made our way to the lifts. She made me wait as we exited the lift, though. She had a good look left and right, nodded to me, and then hurried down the corridor to her door.

I followed at a respectable distance, prepared to carry on past should anyone step into the corridor. Not a soul appeared, and with noticeable relief, she dragged me into her room and collapsed into my arms.

Suddenly, she was conscience-stricken and mumbled that she had never done anything like this. I told her I understood and was not in the habit of seducing women myself. Well, you have to say something like that, don't you? You don't admit to being an unscrupulous womaniser in the heat of the moment, do you? 

All the guilt in the world did not quell her ardour, though. She pulled my jacket off and began unbuttoning my shirt. So, in between kissing her and telling her she was beautiful, I undid some buttons and pulled her dress over her head. She wouldn't let me remove her bra or knickers, saying she was embarrassed about her stretch marks and flabby body. Wow, her stretch marks were minor, and many a twenty-year-old would have given her eye teeth to have a body like hers.

She tried to get under the covers, and I attempted to hold her and convince her to strip further. But she informed me that not even her husband had ever seen her fully nude, so I let her climb into bed and pull the covers tightly around her.

I left my briefs on and climbed under the covers as well. Stephanie rolled onto her back and opened her legs, expecting me to get on top straight away. But no way did I want a quick bonk with this beautiful lady. If I had climbed aboard then, I would have spoofed all over her stomach instantly. So I lay beside her, running my hands all over her fantastic body while asking her questions.

In the next ten minutes or so, I learned that her sexual experiences were minimal. I doubted she had ever had an orgasm. She and her husband had both had strict religious upbringings. It was always lights out under the covers for sex. And done for procreation purposes, not for enjoyment. As I listened to her, I determined I would give it my best shot to repair her inadequate sexual experiences.

I had been with other women who had never had an orgasm. I had some successes but failed with most of them, so I knew this would not be easy. There were two tactics that I had the most success with: the gentle, wooing, and seducing, or a firm domination. I decided to go for the firmer approach. I had already worked at the bank at Disneyland. It was not an approach I usually used - I was raised to be gentle and respectful of women. But I rightly surmised that she was a bit submissive.

I snuggled against her and nibbled at her neck whilst my fingers worked at her nipples through her bra. The way she twisted around to get more contact with me and how quickly her nipples hardened told me that she was very aroused.

Dipping my head, I used my teeth on Stephanie's hardened nipple that I'd not yet managed to get out of her bra. And once her resistance faded, I lowered a hand to cup her crotch. She moaned and opened her legs, and so I continued down her stomach, licking down past her belly button. But when I moved further and tried to stick my head between her legs, I met with the first real resistance of the night. She fought like a tiger, saying she had never, and cried out that she was dirty there.

"You are not dirty. That is nature's natural secretions. I love your smell. It's driving me wild."

And I forced my head past her restraining hands, pulled her briefs to the side, and eased my tongue into her inviting slit. Her legs clamped together and went rigid, and her hands grappled with my head, but as I wormed my tongue into her, her legs slowly fell apart, and she began to moan her appreciation.