An Accidental Infidelity Ch. 01

This tale of Melissa's fall from grace consists of four short parts

*************

Gene and I lived a good life in Crawfordsville, Indiana. It's a small town, around 30 miles west of Indianapolis, with around 16,000 souls. Median family income is $50,000. For comparison, for the US as a whole it's $62,000. Money goes farther in Crawfordsville than it does in Chicago, for example. Still, it's not an especially prosperous place.

Crawfordsville is the home of Wabash College, a private school that has only male students, one of the last such schools in the country. Housing is cheap, and we had bought a cute, small house, so that we were prepared for the day when we had kids. I was off birth control, so I expected and hoped to become pregnant in the near future.

Our house had an entry hall, a kitchen off to the side, a main room, a small dining room, and two bedrooms, with a nice, large bathroom in between the two bedrooms. I rise early in the mornings. Usually it's still dark out when I get up. It always is in the winter. I get up and go to the kitchen to make breakfast. Gene sleeps through my morning routine.

I like to make breakfast in the nude. It makes me feel sexy. Even though nobody can see me, I enjoy fantasizing that they can. There's a moment when I walk naked from the bedroom to the kitchen that I'm exposed to the street via a window, but it's the early morning, circa 6AM, and with our lights out there's really no reason for any of our neighbors to look. There's just enough ambient light from the streetlight near our window.

The neighbors who could, in theory, look at my naked body live in the house next door. It's a house that is rented by a group of students who, at times, are a bit loud. They all sleep late, and the idea that one of my students might see me naked, even if the reality would be horrific, turns me on.

Once I'm in the kitchen I wash the dishes from supper the previous night, put the kettle on for coffee, take out a yogurt and maybe a hard-boiled egg, and then I return to the bedroom to put on a robe, and I eat breakfast in the main room. The kitchen is too small to eat breakfast in it, unless one eats standing up at the counter. Sometimes I actually do eat breakfast that way.

When I'm feeling particularly nasty, and once I'm seated at the breakfast table, I let my robe gap a bit, showing off my boobs to whomever might care to look. I try to make it look as if I don't know that I'm exposing myself. I wonder if anyone believes a woman could ever be that unaware?

I once caught a student staring at me, checking out my boobs, trying to see my nipples. I pretended I didn't see him and let my robe part just a little more, teasing him mercilessly. He never did see a nipple, but he came excruciatingly close. There's a mirror which, just by chance you understand, lets me watch the peeper without revealing to him that I'm watching. With optics, it's all about the angles. I became nice and wet as I saw his pants bulge a little - you know where. I finished my breakfast, left the table, returned to bed, lay next to my sleeping husband and fingered myself to a climax.

It was a Saturday morning about a month later when my lovely, normal life began to change. Gene's best friend Philip came by early in the morning. I had forgotten; they were heading up to a lake for some fishing. "In the winter?" I had asked. "Yes," I'd been told, with no elaboration. It made no sense, since they could not take out a boat on a partially frozen lake. I know, however, that lots of Midwest fishermen are totally nuts, so I did not dwell on it. I now wish that I had.

Gene got out of bed quickly and answered the door. Philip came in and I was trapped. I knew Philip would smell the coffee and head to the kitchen, and I was naked, with no way out that would not run smack dab into Philip. I quickly donned an apron. My front was covered, sort of, but my backside was still nude. My boobs were not completely hidden either, but at least my nipples and areolas were tucked away behind the top of the apron.

Philip indeed followed the smell of coffee right to the kitchen, while Gene brushed his teeth, shaved, showered, and got dressed, and there I was in all of my glory, covered only in my apron. Philip figured out the situation in a split second, and I was blushing furiously.

"Uh, Philip..." I began but Philip surprised me completely by kissing me! I tried to protest and to push him away but his hands wrapped around my back. He removed my apron in an amazingly fast and smooth use of his hands, and then he stepped back to take in the view of my naked body while I blushed furiously, covering my lady bits with my arms and hands.

"I...I..." I began, but I did not know what to say, and then Philip pulled my hands together, holding them away from my body. He began to caress my breasts! This was so inappropriate! Philip was our friend, married to Mary, and probably my husband Gene's best friend.

"No, Philip," I whispered and I removed his hands. Inexplicably, I was turned on, and this became obvious to Philip when his hands next went to my snatch, and three fingers slipped inside me effortlessly, I was so very wet. I groaned with arousal, and closed my eyes.

Philip's fingers began to pump in and out and I just stood there like a zombie, my back against the kitchen counter, moaning softly. I could hear the shower running as in only minutes Philip drove me to a climax. It was a new personal record for fast orgasms. I slowly sank to the floor. After the orgasm my legs were like rubber.

The next thing I knew, Philip was on top of me with his cock out and poking around, near my warm, wet entrance. I don't remember spreading my legs, but nevertheless they were spread, and spread wide. I surprised even myself when I offered only token resistance, squirming just a bit to avoid his cock entering me, and pathetically pushing with my two hands at Philip's sexy, hairy chest as he got into position. If Gene had not called out from the bedroom saying he was almost ready, I'm sure Philip would have gotten his cock inside me, and I would have been his to do with as he pleased.

This sort of thing had happened to me before. One time in college I was making out with a guy, Ray Richmond was his name. I had met him only the same evening, and before I realized what was happening he had my skirt up, my panties off, and he had me so aroused that I became completely passive and let him enter me and then beautifully fuck me until I climaxed. After I came, he continued to fuck me wonderfully until he had cum, too. I never saw Ray again. He never called me, he never texted me, nor emailed me, nothing. He ghosted me.

After that incident I went on the pill. I generalized, and if that happened repeatedly, sooner or later I would be pregnant. Not good.

I also went to one of the university's free shrinks they offer to troubled students. I explained how I had seemingly entered a trance (I actually told him I became a zombie) and that I gave the man total submission. In retrospect it both freaked me out that I had behaved that way, but I loved it too. I had not even been attracted to the guy! I kept replaying my first ever fuck in my mind, masturbating like a woman possessed, even if at the time I seemed to myself to be more of a witness to it than a participant.

The doctor, a man, told me I was young and inexperienced about sex, and stuff happens.

"No, it doesn't. I've spoken to other girls, and none of them enter a trance and find it impossible to resist," I said.

"Your reaction is not uncommon. Don't worry, it will pass. Just remember, you can always just say no," he said.

"What are you, Nancy Reagan?" I asked.

"What?" he said, and then he got it, and he chuckled. The First Lady Nancy Reagan had waged a "Just Say No," campaign to end, or at least to reduce, teenage sex and the unwanted pregnancies that often come with it. Just say no? Yeah, right.

"I should be able to make out with a guy and still be able successfully to resist sex. I couldn't do that. Something's wrong," I said.

"How many times has this happened to you?" he asked. I actually saw a little stirring in his pants, the dirty old man! I found a reason to lean forward for a few seconds, to give him a look down my blouse. I might as well torment the jerk, right? I can be evil that way.

"Once, but it will happen again, I just know it," I said, as I watched the doctor trying to suppress a laugh.

The idiot doctor prescribed Prozac. I also extracted from him a prescription for birth control pills. The Prozac gave me a lot of nervous energy but it did not really solve the problem! At least with the pills, pregnancy was off the table.

I found out how far Prozac came from solving my problem on my very next date. This new guy was nice, good looking, and gracious, but he was sexually aggressive when we went back to my dorm room. He had me naked in minutes, and we kissed as he felt me up. He too fingered me, and once again I went into this passive, submissive state, and soon we were humping like wild animals. My roommates heard my moans, and so did the girls living directly above us. It was kind of embarrassing. Once again, I had put out for a guy on my very first date with him. I never heard from him again, either.

Why didn't the men want to date me again? What had I done wrong? Was I bad in bed? Was I so ugly that they were embarrassed to be seen with me? Was I so trivial a person that while I was good enough for a quick fuck, for them to get their rocks off and add another girl as a conquest, perhaps I was not scintillating enough for a relationship? Or were the men just jerks?

Still, given I had put out, I would have thought their sex drives were strong enough to want at least one repeat performance? After all, they must have known I was ready to do anything: blowjobs, anal, or good old vaginal sex in any position they wanted. I just couldn't figure it out!

I had not intended to have sex on the first date, it's just that once I get turned on, I somehow can't stop the process, and college men (it seemed to me) try to go as far as the girl will let them. In my case, that's far. It's very far. Maybe they think I'm a slut and develop contempt for me? Maybe they'd still want to date me if my body had retained some secrets a little longer?

I tested my theory with my third date in college, with a guy named George. I refused to go beyond kissing the guy and did not let him remove any clothes. I guess he had heard I was an easy lay or something, because my refusal to provide sex got him angry. I thought he was going to hit me he was so mad, so I dropped to my knees, unzipped his jeans, and I fished out his cock.

George's attitude changed on a dime. As soon as I took his cock inside my mouth, he began to smile. It got hard quickly, and after I had sucked his cock for a little while, George pulled me up to a standing position, unzipped and unsnapped my skinny jeans, and peeled them off me. I knew this was the beginning of sex, but this time I actually liked the guy! I liked George a lot, and I did not want to lose him. George could tell by my breathing and my body language that my whole attitude had changed; I was back in my submissive, do with me as you will, state of being.

George took me anally that night. He was the first man ever to do that. It hurt a lot, even though he used Vaseline and all, but once my asshole adjusted to him, I actually enjoyed it, and I told him, too. He washed his cock off, and when it got hard again, he fucked me in the classic way, with him on top. It was lovely. When he was spent, and he was dressed and was about to leave, I asked him, lying there naked before him, "When will I see you again?"

George was too kind to say 'never, you slut,' but he didn't have to say it. I saw it in his eyes. From his lips I got a white lie. I was really hurt. Once again it was a case of love 'em and leave 'em. I was batting a thousand on that score.

I ended up solving the problem myself by simply avoiding men. If a man wanted to date me, I was always too busy. This continued until I met Gene. With Gene I decided I was ready to take another chance. We made love on our first date, given my apparent inability to resist men, and especially I could not resist Gene. Gene was the most handsome, debonair, sexy man I had ever met. Luckily, instead of thinking me a slut, Gene fell for me, especially when he learned he was only the fourth man who had ever laid me.

Now Gene was inadvertently saving me from his friend Philip. I was definitely lucky!

Philip quickly got off me and got his clothes arranged, and he left me there, wrecked, sitting on the cold kitchen floor, my back against the cabinets below the counter, my legs spread wide, breathing heavily. Philip grabbed the to-go cup of coffee I had prepared for him, with just a splash of 2% milk, the way he likes it, and he quickly left the kitchen. I forced myself to scramble to my feet and reattach my apron. I finished just as Gene came into the kitchen to kiss me goodbye, squeezing my naked ass as we kissed. The two men left and were gone for the rest of the day and late into the night.

I spent the entire day worrying that Philip might tell Gene what had happened. Thank goodness we had not fucked! I knew that if Gene had not called out, I would have become another notch in Philip's belt of conquests.

I felt horrible. I could not believe I had let Philip finger me to a climax in my own kitchen and to do so in record time. I walked back nude to the bedroom, not caring that the lights were on, got a robe, and I took my breakfast to the main room. Sitting there I imagined Philip having his way with me on the kitchen floor and soon I was fingering myself to a second climax. It was the first time I had a climax while eating a hard-boiled egg.

After that episode I felt horribly guilty, and I atoned by initiating sex with Gene every chance I got, to Gene's great delight. More times than not, I fantasized Gene was Philip as he fucked me. I scrupulously avoided Philip whenever possible. I succeeded in not seeing Philip again for over six weeks. Nevertheless, something about that short-lived intense session in the kitchen stayed with me, and changed me in ways that were unfortunate.

A few days later the student who had peeped at me when I was eating breakfast appeared at our front door at 6AM. Gene was still sound asleep, out to the world, and I was naked of course, so I grabbed my robe and went to the door. The student, whose name was Mike, was holding a box of doughnuts.

"The doughnuts are from Bloomington," he said, "The best in town. How about we eat some and you can provide some coffee?" I recognized him. He was in one of my classes at Wabash College. His name is Mike.

I was flummoxed, not having even the slightest idea how to respond. I just stood there. Mike pushed past me, knocking my robe off of one shoulder, and entered my home. "It's cold outside. How about that coffee?" he said.

"What's going on here, Mike? Why are you here?" I asked. I did not fix my robe. My breasts were not exposed, but the position of my robe gave a tantalizing promise that gravity might soon undo my modesty to the benefit of Mike's eager eyes.

"Just being neighborly," he said.

"Really!" I said, trying to sound skeptical.

"I could really use some coffee," he said.

"I'll get us some plates, napkins, and coffee," I said. "Let's save some for my husband; he should be getting up soon." I wanted to mention Gene, and let Mike know he was home, and that Gene should not try anything!

Mike quietly followed me into the kitchen and surprised me when he spun me around and kissed me! Completely shocked, I automatically returned the kiss, but then recovered my senses, pulled away from him, and slapped his cheek, hard. My eyes were blazing, I hoped!

Mike smiled and kissed me again. It was as if I had never slapped him! Again, I returned the kiss, while panicking and wondering once again what was wrong with me? As we kissed he pushed my robe off my shoulders, trapping my arms, and when the kiss stopped he stared at my now exposed breasts. My nipples were as hard as rocks! I just stood there, once again having entered my zombie state. In retrospect, I think I was in shock!

Mike began to caress my boobs. His touch was wonderful, and I let him feel me up. He tweaked my nipples and I groaned, so softly it was barely audible, but Mike heard it. He smiled when he heard me groan.

Mike pulled open my robe, undoing the belt as he pulled it open, and suddenly my naked body was completely exposed to this young stud. The gall! I did happen to notice the sizable bulge in his pants.

"Let's go have the donuts. You carry the coffee," I said, and I put a steaming hot cup of coffee in each of his two hands. I placed the donuts on a china plate, grabbed some napkins, re-tied the belt of my robe, and walked to the table in the dining room.

We sat down. I was sullen and silent. Mike's face was filled with lust. He had just seen both my boobs and my pussy, after all. I chose a yeast doughnut and Mike went for a chocolate frosted one. We ate and drank our coffee in silence. By the time I finished my glazed yeast doughnuts, Mike had eaten three.

Mike's eyes were constantly focused on my boobs as we sat at the table, and I don't know why I did this. Even now I don't know. I untied the belt to my robe, and I flagrantly pulled apart my robe exposing my boobs, tits and all. I kept my pussy covered.

"Thanks for the doughnuts. They're delicious," I said, as I exposed my boobs to the horny, young student.

"Thanks for the coffee and the lovely view. Everything is delicious," he replied. "I'd love a taste, you know."

I knew what he meant. "No. Just taste the doughnuts and the coffee. Then you must leave," I said.

I walked Mike to the door. "Kiss goodbye?" he asked.

We had already kissed, so why not, I thought. He moved to kiss me, and I accepted. Once again, as we kissed, Mike expertly maneuvered my robe so that it fell off me, pooling at my feet. I was naked, and kissing a student. I could not believe it. He broke the kiss and before I could even react, he had his mouth on my boob, tickling my nipple with his tongue. I softly groaned.

He kissed my boobs for a while and then began to kiss me again. As we kissed, one of his fingers entered my snatch, revealing to him exactly how turned on I was, thanks to him. This was only a few days after Philip had almost fucked me, and I knew I was doomed if I let this young guy finger me!

I quickly pulled away and forcefully pushed Mike out of the house, closing the door forcefully, and then leaned against it, panting! It had taken much too much of an act of will for me to have pushed Mike away. I locked the door, and returned to bed, and once again lay next to Gene. As I listened to Gene softly snoring away, I fingered myself to a lovely climax. I fell back asleep, and when I woke I had to rush. I needed to dress and to get to work.

I left a note for Gene. "A neighbor boy dropped by with some doughnuts. They're on the kitchen table. Coffee is in your cup on the counter. Enjoy your breakfast!" Then I left for work. I had a lot to think about!