Acts of Infidelity - Mel and Chris

In an instant, his hand was on my vulva. Finding his way barred by my scarlet thong, he paused then, with only a moment's hesitation, simply ripped it away. I winced as the strap between my legs was pulled wire-tight, digging deep into my vulva, slit and cleft before giving way and parting, the ruined garment becoming no more than a red band around my waist.

Then, with no tights or knickers to impede his access, Neil began to finger me in earnest, his long, searching finger deep in my vagina, twisting left and right, forcing themselves further into me with every flick of his thick, strong wrist.

A second finger joined the first, stretching me wonderfully; tighter than I had felt in a long time. The angle was awkward but the pain was exquisite. His fingers were rough, they hurt too but again, I loved the pain, moaning into his mouth, thrusting my tongue as hard as I could between his lips.

My knees began to give way and I fell against his strong body, my boobs crushed against his chest. A moment later my vagina had been deserted and his hands were under my buttocks, lifting me bodily from the ground and carrying me forward.

Before I knew what was happening, I was pressed up against the wall of the stables, my dress was under my armpits, his right hand was under my buttocks, my arms were around his neck and my legs were wrapped around his waist as his left fumbled frantically with his belt and zipper.

Then I felt it; the unmistakeable feeling of a man's long, thick erect cock brushing against the underside of my thighs. My heart missed a beat. For a moment I wondered what in God's name was happening but the flow of heat from my groin drove out all other thoughts.

As Neil's left hand joined his right under my buttocks, I reached down and grasped the thick, heavy pole of muscle that was pointed straight towards my most private place.

He stabbed wildly at my vulva in his passion, first hitting the back of my thigh, then painfully hard against my clitoris before he controlled himself enough to find the right opening.

I reached down in self-protection, gasping as my hand closed around Neil's long, hard shaft. Without hesitation, but with a tightness in my chest I was to remember long afterwards, I directed it towards my turgid, dripping flesh.

Then, for the first time in twenty-five years, I felt the indescribable excitement of a man's new, unfamiliar cock entering my body. I felt my eyes bulging and my body opening as Neil thrust himself clumsily forwards and upwards, slipping easily between my lips and half way into my vagina.

"Oh God!" I gasped.

For a split second we paused, as if realising what we had done but it was too late; he was inside me. There could be no going back now. A voice which sounded like mine grunted.

"Do it! Please..."

Immediately Neil drove his amazing cock into me.

"Ahhhggghhh!"

I squealed aloud as the long, thick shaft was forced deep into my vagina, my chest aching as if a white-hot spear had been thrust upwards into my most delicate parts. Instinctively I raised my knees, trusting in the strong hands that cupped my buttocks and spread my legs to open myself to his thrusts.

I gasped again as he somehow found an extra half inch of penetration, forcing his way even deeper into my body until I felt the heart of his thighs pressed against my buttocks and the pressure of his smooth end high in my belly.

I was panting with excitement and could hear Neil grunting too.

I felt his strong hands beneath my bottom, taking my weight and lifting me bodily. I felt an emptiness in my loins as his cock was drawn back until only his head was inside me.

Then he lowered me down bodily onto his cock, driving himself upwards with his strong legs until it was buried deep inside me again.

Oh God! It felt so good! So wicked and yet...

Suddenly, without ceremony, before I could begin to comprehend the amazing feeling of his body in mine, Neil began to fuck me hard -- faster and faster as if there was no tomorrow, forcing my back against the brickwork, hammering his body into mine with a wild passion that almost made me scream.

'Slap slap slap!'

Our bodies collided noisily in the cool night air. I felt his shaft rubbing against my labia, his pubic hair grinding against my clitoris.

I bit my lip to stifle my cries as my excitement mounted and mounted. Half aware of the extreme danger of discovery I remembered to my horror how noisy my orgasms made me and fought hard to prevent myself climaxing despite the wet slapping sounds of his flesh slapping against mine the wonderful, exhilarating deep penetration of his cock within me.

Although it seemed like an age and changed my life, my first every infidelity was over in a handful of minutes. Before the full impact of the pleasure had fully reached my brain, I felt Neil's fingers gripping the underside of my thighs painfully hard as his face contorted horribly and he began to cum.

Great spasms racked his body and he shook violently as he began to ejaculate inside me, his powerful thrusts becoming short, sharp uncontrolled stabs into my vagina. He grunted and I quickly pressed my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

I felt relieved as his cock quickly softened and plopped messily out of my body and I shuddered as a trickle of something warm dripped down the underside of my buttocks and down the backs of my thighs.

I hadn't climaxed but it had been so, so good.

Neil slowly lowered me to the ground until my heels touched the floor. My dress was still bunched under my armpits leaving my messy private parts on display for the benefit of any spectators there might have been.

He stepped back, a stunned look on his face as if he was as surprised as I was at what had taken place. His trousers and pants were clumsily still around his knees. He looked ridiculous, but I suppose I looked no better.

"Neil...." I gasped. "What....what just happened?"

He looked across at me, taking my hand as I tottered unsteadily, unstable in my heels. My legs had half-turned to jelly and I held on to him for balance as I tried to recover a little dignity by pulling my dress back down over my hips.

The ruined thong around my waist tangled in the dress; I pulled it down my legs and away, screwing the torn red fabric into a ball then looked for somewhere to hid it.

"Here!" Neil offered his hand.

I silently placed my ruined panties in his palm. He Neil slipped them into his trouser pocket.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"I couldn't reply, my head still spinning from the combination of alcohol, lust and post coital comedown.

"Mel!" he insisted. "Please! Are you okay?"

"I'm... I'm okay," was all I could say though my fight-or-flight instinct was telling me to get away quickly.

"I... I need to go to the ladies' room."

"Yes... Yes of course," Neil stammered, seeing my distress. "Take my arm."

I took his strong arm and he led me, still rather unstable on my feet, back along the path towards the ballroom. But before we had gone more than a few steps I broke away from him.

"No! Wait!" I exclaimed suddenly, stopping abruptly.

"What's the matter?" he hissed in alarm.

"We can't go inside like this!" I hissed. "We can't go in together for God's sake! What would that look like? You go on ahead!"

"But..."

"Just go Neil!" I hissed.

Reluctantly but obediently, Neil did as I had told him, looking back over his shoulder three times before disappearing into the lobby.

Once he had entered the building, for the benefit of prying eyes obviously alone, I slipped as silently as I could around the back of the hotel into the staff entrance. To my relief, there was no-one to see as I took off my heels and padded down the corridor to the staff toilet where I closed the door firmly and locked it.

Safe for a moment, I breathed out heavily.

What in God's name had I done? And had anyone seen me do it?

I thought hard. As far as I knew, nobody had seen me either with Neil, in the car park, or on my way back to the hotel.

As far as I knew.

Raising my dress to avoid any more stains, I sat down on the toilet and began to pee as I fumbled in my handbag. Pulling out my compact mirror, I inspected myself carefully, a feeling of nausea growing within me as I looked anxiously into the accusing glass.

And saw me! Admittedly a rather red faced me with slightly ruffled hair but still just me.

What had I expected to see? A slut of a woman with guilt written over her face? I don't know. I certainly felt like a slut. I had just had sex in a public car park with my best friend's husband; what else did I need to do to qualify as one?

What was worse was that it had been a truly exhilarating experience. Okay, it had been short and crude; I had come nowhere near to climax but my arousal had been incredibly intense. Something deep inside me had just been reminded what really passionate sex could be like - indeed used to be like with my husband before familiarity dulled my senses and routine replaced lust.

I took some toilet tissue in my hand and reached between my legs. There was sticky stuff all over my inner thighs and a trickle down the back of my left leg. I mopped it up as best I could, marvelling at the volume of semen Neil had produced, much more than I had ever received from Chris.

Why in God's name had I done it? Like most women, I had fantasised about having wild, lust-driven sex with another man but I had never dreamed it would happen in real life.

Even in my fantasies, cheating hadn't been as crude and dangerous as this. There were a thousand ways I could have cheated on my husband less riskily than in a knee trembler against the wall in a public car park!

And with my best friend's husband too? Was I completely insane?

Had we been seen? Would there be consequences beyond the obvious?

As I anxiously re-joined the party, constantly on the lookout for signs that we had been observed in our fucking, the answer to that question became increasingly clear and very quickly too.

Firstly, thanks to Neil's destruction of my thong, I now had no underwear beneath my dress. Apart from having to take extreme care in my deportment to avoid flashing my bare vulva, twice I had to run to the toilets to mop up trickles of semen that had leaked from my vagina and were running down the inside of my bare thigh.

The first had actually reached the back of my knee before I realised what was happening. Eventually I had to shove a tissue into me to prevent further difficulties. It was rough and uncomfortable.

Secondly, I had bitten Neil so hard that I had given him a love bite on his neck. This I hadn't done since I was in school. The mark was fresh so wasn't too obvious but it was above his collar line and recognisable for what it was. He had to wear his evening scarf draped around his neck despite the hot weather.

For the rest of the night we avoided each other like the plague, each taking care not to be seen in the other's company. Once we literally bumped into each other as I left the Ladies Room for the third and last time having plugged the leak between my thighs, so to speak. The look we exchanged was something between lust, pleading and sheer terror.

Eventually the evening came to an end. As Katie and I went home together in the back of our taxi she was full of excitement and giggles. Unseen by me, her new dance partner had asked her to go out with him on an ongoing basis. From the flushed look on her face and her dishevelled appearance I suspected they had got a great deal closer to each other than I had seen with my own eyes but I was too wrapped up in my own problems to worry about hers.

Fortunately, full of her new romance, my daughter did not ask me a single question about my evening. Normally this selfishness would have annoyed me but that night I thanked my lucky stars for teenage love.

I helped her undress, unpicked the grips in her tousled hair and tucked Katie's happy, fresh, tipsy young body in her bed. Then I undressed, removed the soiled tissue from my vagina, washed myself down there with a flannel, pulled on my least sex pyjamas and dragged my middle-aged, aching, guilty self into bed, knowing that sleep would come hard.

It came very hard indeed.

I lay there in the darkness, trying to come to terms with the knowledge that for the first time in my life I had cheated on my husband. It had been hurried, crude, dirty, tawdry but even then I could not deny that it had been more exciting than I had believed possible.

It had been foolish in the extreme and an act of betrayal too but as the bed and the room span slowly round, the memories that stuck most firmly in my mind were of the raw physical pleasure and the sheer joy at feeling young and attractive again.

I had forgotten how it felt to be desired sexually in that crude, feral way. I had forgotten how good it was; how exciting it was to feel familiar hands on my body in unfamiliar ways; how incredible it had felt to feel a strange new penis penetrate my body and even to cum inside me, however messy it was afterwards.

Then the guilt took over. The betrayal, the squalid surroundings; the shameful, knee-trembling way in which I had simply thrown away my honour and fidelity forever.

I began to drift into what would inevitably be only a troubled, uneasy sleep. My body remembered only excitement and pleasure, my mind full of guilt, fear and remorse.

However good or bad it was, it had happened. There was no going back. What was done couldn't be undone. My body had willingly accepted the erect cock of a man who was not my husband. It had penetrated me, brought pleasure both physically and emotionally; it had delivered its heavy load of sperm-filled semen at the mouth of my womb...

Suddenly I sat bolt upright in bed.

Oh Jesus! Oh Jesus! Oh Jesus!

It had delivered sperm filled semen to the mouth of my womb -- and I wasn't on the pill.

Chis has had a vasectomy so between us, the subject of birth control never comes up. I hadn't even thought about protection; it had all happened so quickly that neither Neil nor I had even thought to use a condom.

Oh Jesus Christ, help!

I spent the rest of the night awake, my mind filled with horrible images of what might be taking place inside me in the darkness.

And dreading what the morning might bring.

***

The following morning I woke with a guilt-hangover to add to my alcohol hangover and sleepless-night-exhaustion. Katie showed no sign of stirring so, although I was probably still over the limit, I drove to a twenty-four hour clinic in a distant part of the city where I stood for half an hour alongside care-worn prostitutes and crying teenage girls before finally obtaining the morning-after pills I desperately needed.

When I returned home, Katie was still asleep. I lay on my bed, bewildered.

***

The flowers arrived at two o'clock in the afternoon. I was asleep, so tired that not even guilt could keep me awake. I had popped two of the pills, was hoping they would be doing their much-needed job and wondering if I would feel them doing it.

The doorbell woke me up. I ignored it, expecting it to be one of Katie's friends. It rang again. I ignored it again. When it rang a third time I realised Katie must have gone out while I had been asleep so I tottered downstairs to find a smiling young woman on the doorstep with a large bouquet of flowers.

There was no card but as I took them into the kitchen a text message arrived on my phone.

'I thought a card would be too risky but wanted to let you know how important last night was to me. You are a very special woman. Thank you. Neil x'

I should have either ignored the message or replied saying that it had been a terrible mistake which we must both try and forget had ever happened. Even now, I cannot fully explain why I did neither of these. I didn't throw the flowers into the dustbin either. Instead I trimmed them, placed them carefully in a vase then sat looking at them with a mug of coffee in my hand, thinking.

My hangover had greatly reduced and the hour's sleep had gone some way towards restoring my composure but even then I can't have been thinking clearly because I picked up my phone and began to type.

'The flowers are lovely but you shouldn't have sent them.'

The response was almost instant.

'Mel! I'm so glad you replied. I thought you might not talk to me.'

'I shouldn't talk to you . We shouldn't have done it Neil.'

'I don't know what came over me' Neil's message ran. 'I'm really sorry.'

Something in that message stirred something within me; perhaps it was anger, perhaps something deeper but there was fire in my fingers as I typed.

'Are you sorry Neil?'

'What do you mean?'

'Simple question. Are you really sorry you fucked me?"

Where the 'f' word came from I have no idea. Until then I had been rather prudish in my vocabulary.

There was a long delay before my phone beeped again.

'No Mel. I'm not sorry at all. In fact I'm pleased we finally fucked!'

The words stunned me. I stared at the screen in a combination of disbelief and guilty delight but could not think what to reply. In the end Neil must have got fed up waiting because he sent another message.

'Are you still there?'

'I'm still here.'

There was another pause before my phone beeped.

'I've wanted to fuck you for years. Ever since I met you.'

The words burned into my mind as I stared at the screen in astonishment.

'Are you sorry it happened Mel?' came the next message.

How did I feel? I certainly felt dirty and guilty but somehow, not sorry.

What was more, I felt unexpectedly aroused; I felt attractive again, I felt sexy again.

Had Neil forced me? I couldn't even pretend that he had. Although Neil had given me little choice in the matter I hadn't really resisted; I hadn't screamed or called for help -- in truth I had actually directed his erect cock into my open, waiting vagina myself.

And it had felt so very, very good to have a man want me again in that feral, uncontrolled way.

I took a deep breath then made the second biggest mistake of my life.

'I'm pleased it happened too' I typed slowly and carefully.

My heart was thumping as I saw the words appear on my screen and knew they had just appeared on his.

'Thank God! When can I see you again?'

My fingers seemed to be typing on their own as unfamiliar, powerful emotions surged through me.

'Tomorrow night.'

'You're alone?'

'Katie's staying with friends'

'You really mean it Mel? Let's be very clear; you want me to fuck you again?'

The words were so hard to type I almost gave up but in the end I sent the message that was ultimately to destroy the trust in my marriage and leave me where I am today.

'Yes Neil. I want you to fuck me again!'

***

Neil came round the following evening dressed in his tennis clothes. He had told his wife Alison that he had a league match to play but instead came straight to see me. I was wearing a short yellow sun dress with a plain white bra and knickers underneath.

When I saw his strong tanned legs and tight buttocks in those crisp white shorts and the way his polo shirt showed off his chest and biceps, the few reservations that remained simply disappeared.

Within ten minutes of arriving he had bent me over the kitchen table, raised my dress around my waist, pulled my knickers around my ankles and was fucking me hard. I had my first orgasm within minutes, my hands gripping the table edge for all they were worth as I wailed into the empty house.

This was no drunken, accidental mistake. This was a deliberate, sober decision to have sex with another man.

The first, pivotal act of infidelity out of the way, we could take our time about the second. This took place in the guest bedroom with the curtains open, both of us naked. I came again, noisily, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him as he came, this time in a condom.