Acts of Infidelity - Polly's PhD

Instead a few days later, I came back for more. It was every bit as good as the first.

A few days after that we fucked again.

From then on, our tutorial sessions became much, much more intense and much more frequent.

I became and still am, a full and very willing member of Harry's harem.

For the past year, our relationship has mostly involved snatching moments of extreme intimacy whenever opportunities arise. We have only twice gone to a hotel, the rest of our encounters being in his car, in my student flat, in the open air and of course, in his office many more times.

In between dates, he sends me messages telling me where to go, what to do, what to wear -- or increasingly what not to wear - when I go out. I find this very arousing indeed.

Sometimes he sends me links to erotic stories before our dates, suggesting what he intends to do with me, getting me turned on even before we meet. The anticipation alone can make me shiver as my body prepares itself for the pleasure to come.

It is of course through these stories that I came across Jenny and her work.

To be honest, it was Harry's idea that I got in touch with her and offered my own story, persuading me it would be far more intense to see my own sex life in print than simply reading about other people's lives and fantasies and acting them out.

So far, he has been one hundred percent right; just telling my story to a stranger has been one of the most arousing experiences of my life so God alone knows how I will feel if and when it gets published.

The thought of thousands of unknown men and women reading about and being turned on by skinny, dowdy, flat-chested me being fucked silly by an older, stronger, deeply attractive black man makes me shiver with arousal and excitement.

And of course, until now, the details of my defloration have been kept secret even from Harry. I wonder how he will feel when he reads about what happened.

Since Harry first fucked me, my life has become thrilling, both physically and emotionally. I know it's wrong to cheat on my fiancé, but it's the most daring, exciting and sinful thing I have ever done, and I just can't help myself.

Even the word 'fuck' is one I would never have used before, yet now it seems to describe what we do perfectly.

Deep down I have known from the beginning that he is only using me for sex. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only girl he's fucking too, but he is amazing both in bed and out, and I can't bring myself to end the relationship.

I tell myself that I am using him as much as he is using me, but it isn't really true; I have fallen in love with him a little bit. Okay, I have fallen in love with him quite a lot, but I'm not naïve enough to believe he feels the same about me.

Deep down I know I will eventually get hurt, but he likes me and enjoys fucking me and that's good enough for me now.

I can't give all this excitement up just yet; the sex alone is reason enough to stay.

Sex with Harry is like nothing I have ever felt before, far better than with my fiancé and on a different planet from my painful, messy defloration. Sex with Harry is better than I had imagined sex ever could be, and as he teaches me more and more, it's getting better all the time.

He has had me on my back, on my face, on my knees, on a chair, against the wall, even straddling him like a cowboy rides a horse. I can suck cock properly too, something I used to think disgusting, but which now brings me almost as much pleasure as Harry tells me it brings him.

He has even cum in my mouth; a thing I never thought I would ever allow let alone enjoy.

I love the way that, after we have been together, the soreness and tingling in my vulva and breasts can keep the memories fresh in my mind for days. And I love the little nips and tiny pinch marks he regularly leaves on my body, marking me secretly as his.

But there is much more to it than just being regularly fucked; Harry makes me feel as good emotionally as he does physically. Being wanted sexually by such an obviously attractive man makes me feel good about myself in ways I never understood before.

For the first time in my life, I feel attractive; maybe even sexy.

For the first time in my life I feel desirable and desired, wanted as well as wanting.

For the first time in my life, I feel like every woman deserves to feel. Special.

Being with Harry has quite literally, changed my life. After only a few weeks as his lover, I began to dress more sexily, to style my hair more carefully; to take a great deal more care over my make-up. These days I carry myself better too; wearing higher heels than ever before, holding my head higher too; moving with much more confidence and an increasing awareness of my own sexuality.

And the result? After two decades of being dull and invisible, for the first time in my life, men have started to notice that I exist. What's more, some have even tried to chat me up; a few have even attempted to seduce me.

The effect on my self-esteem is beyond description; finally, I understand what being a real woman is all about.

But what about my fiancé Ian? That's where I begin to feel bad again.

Although he and I are still engaged, there is no date fixed for a wedding and right now, I don't want there to be. I still love him, and we still occasionally make love, but I am no longer the girl I was when he proposed, and I suspect I can never be the wife he needs.

I know all this will not endear me to Jenny's many followers and readers. I know that in most people's minds I am nothing but an unfaithful slut or cunt -- more words I would never have used before Harry fucked me.

Most people would think a slut like me deserves a comeuppance and might well have one in the offing.

But I'm not hard, though I am selfish. I do have a conscience. When I'm alone, it does bother me that I am cheating on my fiancé and doing it so frequently. Ian has done nothing to deserve this.

It bothers me that sex with Harry is making me dissatisfied with the life I had previously desired so much and that I might hurt the man I still love, though desire less.

It even bothers me that I am taking Harry away from his wife and children, though in my defence, he seduced me, not the other way around. If Harry wasn't fucking me, I'm sure it would be another girl on his desk, legs apart, knickers on the floor.

Even now I have no reason to believe I'm his only lover.

And of course, it bothers me that my whole future is up in the air and that I have no idea where I want it to land. But when I am with Harry, the sheer physical and emotional pleasure that being his lover brings is more than able to drive all such feelings from my mind and replace them with... something that can at times approach pure physical ecstasy.

I'm not sure where my life will go from here.

I have no illusions that Harry will leave his wife and children for me and when I'm thinking clearly, I wouldn't want him to either. He is far too unfaithful to be a good prospect as a life partner, and I am not one of those dewy-eyed girls who believes she can change a man's fundamental nature through love.

I know it will all eventually end, and most probably end badly. I know that someday he will dump me and move on to another conquest, and that I will then suffer the pain that Jenny's readers will no doubt think I deserve.

When my PhD is finished, I will have to find a job and move out of student accommodation, so perhaps it will all reach a natural conclusion then anyway.

But there is at least another eighteen months of pleasure before that happens.

And Harry was right; now that I can see my own story in print, I can confidently say that confession has been good for my soul.

My body has other needs entirely!