Cheating On My Husband

I wished I was back in bed. Instead I was at some 7 am company culture meeting. Screw company culture, I thought. At 7 am screw it into the ground and bury it.

No, I don't hate my job. It's part time, flexible and pays fairly well. It's just that these classes are as effective as a chain link fence put up against mosquitos. You sit through a ridiculously presentation where they repeat the same things 200 times, take a test, answer questions exactly how they want you to, then everyone goes back to work the same as before. Nothing changes. Complete waste of time.

I signed in on the notepad by the door, dutifully filled out a nametag and sat in the back with my extra large coffee. It wouldn't be that bad if I could sleep with my eyes open.

Just as I started to cross my legs and get comfortable, a short pudgy man about 50 years old held his hand to his forehead so he could see all the way in the back. He pointed at me and said "hey, you there! Come on up! Let's fill the first two rows!"

I sigh as inaudibly as I could and tried not to roll my eyes. Then I willed my tired body to the front of the auditorium.

"There are some extra seats here!" he said with way too much enthusiasm. He pointed to an extra space in the middle of two very large women. Fortunately, there was a seat on the end of the second row, so I took that instead.

"I may have to step out." I said loudly so he could hear my excuse as to why I wasn't willing to wedge my way to the center. "I'm waiting on a call from a client." I smiled tightly and decided I didn't care if he saw through me or or not. Then I watched as another attendee endured the same treatment. This poor woman ended up shimmying her way into the middle aisle. God I missed the pandemic. Last year we were six feet apart and sitting away from the stage was encouraged.

For the next hour, I doodled discreetly on my notepad and tried not to check my phone. Then, just when I thought I would visibly roll my eyes if I heard the phrase "omni connected" one more time, I had the eerie feeling of being watched.

Curiously, I swiveled my head, and realized someone was looking at me from maybe 30 feet away. Recognition hit, and our eyes locked. I was trapped by his gaze, and unable to breath or think. It was like I was in some kind of vortex, and I wondered if the thunderbolt that hit me had hit him as well.

When I finally tore my eyes away from him, I looked down at my notepad and felt my heart pound.

It was Tommy. A man I'd had a crush on that had eased itself into emotional affair territory a few years ago. Before the pandemic had stopped our liaison in its tracks.

When I finally regained my senses, I looked back at him as discreetly as I could and saw he was no longer looking at me, but at the speaker on stage. I guess he felt my eyes on him and began to turn toward me again, so I snapped my eyes forward, feeling breathless.

The speaker droned on for another half hour, during which time I was tortured. We stole glances at each other, unable to stop ourselves, but trying not to let the other know what we were doing. It was a sensual game of cat and mouse where we took turns being the hunter and hunted.

Finally, after learning an acronym for how to interact more positively with people over email, we were released for a bathroom break.

I walked out of the auditorium, both wanting and not wanting to run into him. What would I say? I felt like I was transported back to junior high with a crush. Or maybe just 2.5 years back when the butterflies wouldn't leave my stomach because of him.

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, and I felt nervous, though I tried to tell myself I didn't need to be. We never slept together. He was simply a guy I liked, and had a few conversations with. Yeah, there were a few text conversations that crossed over into somewhat flirtatious territory, but that was all. The crush was mutual, I was positive of that, but we were both married, so that was that. Had the pandemic not put a stop to it, I would have. I wasn't a husband stealer. I had empathy for his wife, who seemed like a decent person, even if my marriage was lonely and Michael barely spoke to me.

When I saw him coming towards me, I put on my best smile.

"Hey! I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you quit Smith Co." I said as casually as I could manage. He looked hot in his suit. Professional and in control, much different than I had seen him last in a beat up old concert tee showing my son how to scoop notes on guitar.

"They offered me a full time job in IT, so I took it." he replied, and I wished I had worn a skirt with heels instead of slacks and flats.

"Oh, that's awesome." I said. "We certainly miss you in our department." I told him, just trying to be nice.

"I miss being over there too." then to change the subject, he said "You're looking fantastic." and scanned his eyes over my entire body. I laughed a little. Sure, I still kept in shape, but my clothing was slouchy at best. Today I barely ticked the box of business casual, especially having to get to work two hours earlier than usual. When I spent most days flirting, I looked a lot better. Had my hair and nails done, make up, heels. All of it.

"So how's Megan?" I asked, remembering his wife's name. If social media was any indication, she was sort of an earthy type who liked tie dye, pottery and hinted heavily that she liked to smoke pot.

"She's doing good. Gardening a lot." he hesitated. "What about Michael?"

"Same old." I told him. "Crazy busy at the hospital as usual." I said, and immediately regretted saying that. If that wasn't an invitation for him to swoop back into my life, I wasn't sure what was. Maybe I'd said it because I really did want him back.

"And Eric?" he asked, talking about my son. I sensed he wanted to stop talking about my husband.

"Good. He's in high school now." I said. "Hardly needs me anymore. He even has his own car."

"Wow. High School." he said. "I guess I haven't seen him since what? The end of 7th grade." I pulled up a picture on my phone and he gave it a long look "He's grown about 3 feet too, huh!"

After listening to me go on about how handsome and talented Eric was, he said "You know, if he ever wants to pick up guitar again, I'd still love to have him as a student." Which is kind of how Tommy and I became friendly to begin with. We had started out as work acquaintances, then when I learned he taught guitar, I asked him to teach my son. After that we started going to lunch, talking on breaks, and texting.

I laughed shortly thinking that was probably a bad idea, even if he was in an entirely different department on the other side of the building, so instead I asked "So how's that going? You must have lost a lot of students in the pandemic."

He shrugged. "Well, that's why I had to take the full time job." he said. Before he had been part time like me doing data analysis and taught lessons at night. "Most everybody quit after they tried online lessons. I still have a couple students, but not like before. Of course it's harder to teach music with a full time job.``

"Well, it was good seeing you." I said. "I'll think about having Eric start lessons again." I said, knowing that wasn't going to happen but trying to be polite.

As I sat through the rest of the presentation about pronouns, I was very aware of Tommy. I tried not to look over at him, but it was like I was magnetized to him. It didn't help that the presenters were talking about modern issues like the importance of respecting zee, zim, zir, in the absolute most boring way possible.

After it was done, there was a test a five year old couldn't fail, and I wrote an impassioned sounding yet complete bullshit paragraph at the bottom of the page noting how enlightening the training had been. I noticed most people kept their nonsense answers to a few words, but I figured if I was going to have to take the test, I might as well go all out.

As we left, Tommy waited for me just outside the door of the auditorium. "So, you want to go to lunch?" he asked when I had caught up. "Just as friends." he clarified, but I said no. I was busy. I had to get back to the office.

He looked disappointed, and shrugged. "You sure?" he asked one last time. I told him I was.

When he walked a few paces, I checked my phone, which I had successfully avoided during most of the last hour. My husband Mike had texted.

"Have to stay in Texas a few more days. Tough pathology issue."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah right." I thought. There was always a reason for him to be away. He was always avoiding me. He hadn't asked me how things were going, what I was doing. Nothing. Anger boiled up inside of me. What was I thinking? Here was a man who wanted to talk to me, and I said no. For what? So I could stay faithful to a man 500 miles away who barely ever spoke to me?

I ran to catch up with Tommy and we ended up around the corner from the auditorium at a little sandwich shop that served panini's and coffee. There were cute chalkboard signs with decorative art on them that served as a menu, and local handmade items for sale, but I barely noticed or ate anything I ordered. We talked about everything. How he had fared during the pandemic, how my job had evolved, my "friends" who only talked to me because I was a doctor's wife, movies, children, life philosophies. It was as if not a second had ticked by since last we spoke.

Before I knew it, it was 2:00. I realized I should go to the office and make an appearance, even if it was primarily to moan about the meeting.

"Can I see you again?" he asked, after he had paid the bill and we stood outside the restaurant. He looked at me expectantly.

I realized how much I had yearned to be with someone I could connect with, so I told him yes. We could meet next week if he wanted. Maybe at a little Italian place I had wanted to try. It wasn't like Mike would care. He'd be off to Alaska by then anyway. He was probably having an affair of his own.

I found myself nodding and looking into his eyes. I became aware of how his body seemed tall and lanky from far back, but up close, he was much taller and stronger. His eyes seemed again to captivate me, and I noticed they were green with grey and brown flecks in them.

Before I knew it, he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. It only lasted a few seconds, and could have been passed off as a friendly kiss if anyone from either of our departments was looking on, but his lips were warm and soft, and there was a definite hunger in them that excited me. Then, he said confidently, "I'll call you" and walked off, presumably to the office.

........................................................

That night, after Eric had gone to bed, I put on my sexiest nightgown. A short red silky number that came up just enough that you could see my bare ass cheeks peeking out of the rear and in the front, any observer could see a shadowy half view of my pussy. It was meant to be worn with a matching thong, but I enjoyed the overly sexual way I felt parading around my bedroom with my pussy showing. When I looked in the full length mirror, I was satisfied with the overall effect, so put on some lip gloss to complete the look.

I then lit some candles and turned off the lights. Then I started thinking about Tommy in my large, vacant king sized bed.

I grabbed my breasts over the silky fabric of my nightgown and rubbed them, surprised at how sensitive they were. I cupped them in my hands, and imaged Tommy's instead of mine. I wondered how his masculine, calloused guitar playing fingers would feel on my skin and wondered what it would feel like to have him massage them.

As I played with my breasts, I relived every moment of that morning. The thunderbolt I'd felt when our eyes locked, the casual yet sensual conversation we'd had during the meeting break, and of course the kiss after lunch. Then, I started thinking about what could happen. What sexual adventures could be ahead.

It wasn't long until I reached my hand down to my pussy, and started making circles around my clit with my middle three fingers. The warmth in my body started to build. I thought about his chest against mine. How his hair, now shorter than it had been 2 years ago, would feel as I ran my hands through it. How I wanted to feel my bare chest against his, and how his crotch would feel pressed to mine.

He had to be big. I imagined what it would be like to have him touch me where I was touching myself now, then how he would feel inside of me. Fucking me doggy style, missionary, on the side and even face to face where I imagined him sitting straight up and wrapping my legs around him so I could piston myself on his member. How much I wanted him to cum deep inside of me so I could feel him at his most excited, then have it trickle out.

At the thought of his dick pumping sperm inside of me, my pussy went wild. My body wound up to a fever pitch. I plateaued for a moment, then a micro second later, it was like a rocket had been launched from deep inside me, and I was blinded by a shock of pleasure that coursed through me like a fast moving arrow of energy. Several waves hit after the initial jolt, and I convulsed with pleasure until I finally collapsed, and even muttered "oh fuck." to myself in the room.

I think that was the turning point. It was what made me realize I was dead inside without Tommy. That I hadn't been living since he had been forced out of my life, and that I needed to be saved. That my husband, even when we were quarantined in our homes during the pandemic, had stayed to his side of our massive 6,000 square foot home (ridiculous for 3 people), and I stayed in mine. We only ever saw each other for a quick dinner, and then it was back to work in our vast basement where he claimed to be saving lives. We barely slept in the same bed.

The next week, we met at Mario's. The restaurant I had mentioned to him I wanted to try. I truly had been worried about coworkers seeing me at lunch kissing a man not my husband, so part of the reason I chose the place was because it was low lit and far enough out of town the chances were good nobody would catch us. Eric was at a sleepover, and of course Mike didn't care. He was in Alaska doing whatever it was pathologists did at such conferences. I cynically suspected he was drinking and having sex more than talking about how to cure disease, which could easily be done over a computer chat.

The conversation with Tommy came just as easily, if not more so than it did during our lunch date. After all, I had been talking to him in my head the entire week and saving up things to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything. Even dumb stuff like what dish detergent I bought and why. How I hated housework. My favorite coffee. I was so desperate to be seen as an interesting special person, and not just some disappointment. My husband wanted someone impossible. Someone who could pull in 6 figures, take care of the house and likes entertaining.

The only time there was a lull was when I did ask about his wife, knowing that was the last tender thread I had that could possibly yank me out of having a full on sexual relationship with him.

I broached the subject casually. "So Megan likes to garden? What's she planting now? It's almost fall?" I said thinking that the one time I'd tried my hand at tomato plants they had to be planted in late Spring, or maybe early summer. Fuck if I knew.

"She's got a lot of stuff. Beets, cauliflower, radishes. Stuff like that. The more hearty veggies I guess you could say."

"Hmm." I said. "I guess she's good at it."

He shrugged, and I got the feeling he wanted to tell me something. After a few awkward moments he said. "You know, we have an open relationship." He looked at me carefully, gauging my reaction.

"Oh?" I said, and I had to admit it made sense. I'd never met the woman, but she was a free spirit. A modern day hippy who might be open to such things. She was an artist with crazy blonde frizzy hair, wore bright colors and a nose ring. She was definitely a lot more open minded than me (a boring, buttoned up part time bookkeeper). Even so, I didn't think Tommy was telling me the truth. The way he slumped in his chair and didn't quite look at me was a pretty solid indication he was lying.

I wanted it to be true, though, so I took his word for it the same way a mother will look at her son in prison and determine he is innocent. Innocent even though he was caught on video pulling the trigger and a jury found him unanimously guilty.

After that, Tommy said hesitantly "What about Mike?"

To which I shrugged, "He doesn't care."

After we finished dinner, we ended up at a motel room. I don't even remember how we got there. All I know is it was a seedy place with fraying carpets and artwork on the wall from the 1990's. I didn't care though. I would have fucked him in an ally way, or outside in the woods or even in my sedan. Anywhere would have felt like heaven.

As soon as we got a room assignment from an apathetic desk clerk, Tommy put the keycard into the slot, opened the door, and looked at me for a few seconds with eyes that shone with desire. He then wordlessly grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him such that his crotch was flush with my abdomen.

His lips found mine, and I felt a needy insistence as his tongue danced around my mouth. I then felt his hardness which was right up against me, and realized just how big and powerful his body was. It always stunned me when I was right next to him.

"Oh God." I uttered when his lips left mine to pull my shirt over my head and expose my bra. He quickly unclasped it so that my bare breasts were exposed and then I felt his chest against mine in an embrace, causing warmth to course through my body.

He then pulled away from me to fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt, and before I knew it, we were naked on the bed devouring each other, save for my pink lace thong.

I couldn't take the torture any longer. My need was such that I had to take charge. I straddled him, which I would have never thought possible had I been thinking straight. I pulled my silken underwear to the side fully exposing the lips of my cunt, and eased his 7 inch cock slowly into my sopping wet hole. "Oh fuck" he moaned when I bottomed out inside of him. I relished the feel for a few seconds, and then ground my pelvis against his in order to feel his cock move inside of me.

He moved his hand to my clit and made circles with his thumb, which excited me further. I was so worked up, his fingers on my clit caused the familiar build up inside of me very quickly, and I came hard on his cock. As my pussy clamped around his dick, it prompted him to tense up. He thrust as hard as he could from below me and said "I'm gonna cum! Oh fuck!" and I felt jet after jet of cock juice squit inside of me.

I felt him soften, and I rolled off and lay beside him, wanting to keep every drop inside

"You regret it?" I asked after several awkward moments. Worried he might vanish and leave me alone in a subpar hotel room and a guilty conscience.

"No." he said shortly and kissed me softly.

I turned towards him and I saw his chest was masculine and harry, and I ran my fingers through the thickness of it and traced a line to his thick meat, getting a good look at him.

His cock was big, but soft now, nestled in a thatch of dark hair, which he had trimmed down to a manageable length. I lightly ran my fingers over his soft yet big dick, and rolled over it in my hand. He closed his eyes, and seemed to enjoy the attention I was giving him, so I moved down to his crotch in order to get a better look.

When I reached his cock, I lovingly kissed it, closed mouthed with feather kisses. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he closed them, relishing the sensations I was causing to stir through him, and whispered my encouragement. "Your cock feels so good!" "You made me cum so hard." "Your cock belongs inside of me."