Dangerous

First off, I must say that I love my husband. I had never cheated on him in all the years we've known each other and I never thought in a million years that I'd be one of 'those' women, the ones who have something good and manage to fuck it up. And he's never given me a reason to stray. It's just that sometimes temptation hits you in a way that you just cannot resist; no matter how hard you fight it. At least that's the way it happened for me.

I had been on my job for 10 years. I won't tell you where I work or even what I look like because this could fall in the wrong hands and the last thing I want is to be recognized. If my husband were to ever find out what a shameful slut I'd been it would absolutely ruin my life. However, there are a couple of things I that I can say. One, I was a supervisor at an age where most people are still struggling to make it out the mail room. Also, despite some of the compliments I've received from my male co-workers, I considered myself to be kind of average in the looks department. I mean, I felt good about my appearance and I always dressed to accentuate my assets, but I didn't think I was up there with supermodels or anything like that, just an attractive woman who just happened to be damn good at her job.

The man who would turn out to be my kryptonite had just started in my department. He was a transfer from another division and I gotta say he wasn't the type of guy that girls fall for at first glance, at least not to me; in fact, I hardly noticed him. Everything he wore was stylish yet understated, from his turtle shell glasses to his navy blue Brooks Brothers suit (and matching tie) to his black wingtips. Yes he had the corporate uniform down pat, but the effect didn't bowl me over. Besides, it isn't like I never saw a man in a suit before. But I guess there was something about him that was impressive; everywhere he walked he had the girls in the office turning heads. I wasn't going to ask any of them what they saw in him, I had chided them too many times for perving on the new guys to do that. I decided to take a second look, you know, just to see what all the fuss was about.

The first thing I noticed was the way he moved. It was like a lion in the wild going in for the kill, all power and grace and suddenness. Maybe the reason I didn't notice it at first is because I didn't want to notice. Once I did, one word came to mind immediately: Dangerous. Not dangerous in the sense that he looked like a dangerous guy, more like dangerous to my marriage. Because the more I looked at him move the more wheels started turning in my head. Like how it would feel to be pursued by this powerful looking man, this animalistic hunter, and what it would feel like if he caught me. Of course I've seen attractive men before and even flirted with a few since I'd been married, but I'd never crossed the line. I had self-control, or so I told myself.

When we began working together I noticed a second thing, something that eventually ripped my vaunted self-control to shreds. It was the eyes, those damn eyes! Hazel with flecks of green, dancing with a hint of mischief, his eyes started talking to me. His words were always polite, never condescending, sarcastic, or even remotely sexual, but his eyes told a different story. They read all my movements, always assessing, and then he'd give me a half-smile, almost to say, "I know what you're thinking, and the answer is YES." I couldn't tell which one to believe, his words or those calculating eyes. The confusion had me on edge and yes, horny. It was almost like a conditioned response; seeing him move about the office had my heart pounding, when he smiled my pussy got instantly wet. And yet when we had an occasion to talk his words were completely innocent. Not a hint of innuendo, not a compliment on how I look, nothing but business related topics. His eyes were the furthest thing from innocent. They promised passion beyond anything I could imagine. They promised sweat-soaked sheets and multiple orgasms. Despite my marriage, despite all the criticisms I leveled at all cheaters, I found that I wanted to believe his eyes. I desperately wanted to see if he could deliver.

The uncertainty held me back. Men had always been straight-forward with me, always let me know when they wanted me and what they wanted me for. I had some guys try the subtle approach, but there was always something, a stray comment here, an attempted touch there, something I could point to just to let me know where I stood. With him though, it was like he was two different people. What if all he was interested in was business, that his eyes did that to everyone? Somehow, whether by accident or design, he had sparked some kind of challenge in me. I was determined to find out if he actually wanted me. I was so far gone by that point, never considering what would happen if he actually did want me.

With every passing day my dresses got shorter, tighter. My blouses got sheerer, showed more cleavage. I took more risks, 'accidentally' bumping into him coming out of the company gym after lunch just to cop a feel. He never responded, or at least he said nothing about it. His eyes, those haunting eyes, showed not a hint of surprise. His eyes left me naked, exposed. He knew what I was doing, knew the effect he was having on me. On more than one occasion he would catch me staring at his powerful physique, give me that half smile, and I'd have to go into my office and lock the door for awhile. I had never been seduced by a person's eyes before, especially with no words to back it up. Looking back, I'm sure that I was the talk of the office with the shameless way I was acting, but at the time I was on autopilot. I wasn't thinking about my husband and only slightly more about my job. I was consumed by thoughts of this man inside my walls. I had to have him. So I decided that it was about time I took it to the next step.

I asked him to stay late to help me with some bogus project. He agreed to swing by my office after he took care of something. I waited in anticipation for what I hoped was to come. Soon I was the only one left in the office. There was no sign of him. Had he stood me up? Maybe his eyes were lying to me. Maybe I was just lying to myself, seeing something in his eyes that just wasn't there. Feeling foolish, I was about to give up on him when I heard a knock on my office door. Before I can get up to open it or tell whoever it was to buzz off he came in with a dozen roses in a vase. He sat them on my desk and pulled me into a powerful embrace. I stared into his eyes; they seemed to be questioning me.

Was I ready for this? Unable or unwilling to break the spell he'd put me under or even speak, I simply nodded my head yes. I guess that's all he needed to see, for no sooner than I gave the ok he touched his sweet lips to mine. I was lost. He lifted me effortlessly and placed me on the edge of my desk. He slowly undressed me while kissing me hungrily; devouring every inch of exposed flesh like it was his last meal. Everything he did to me was a study in contradiction. The fire and passion in his eyes was undeniable, yet he took his time to ensure my complete satisfaction. In his eyes I saw love poems and declarations of absolute lust, yet he never said a word. His hands told me of his desire, his lips and tongue as they explored all my intimate spaces.

I was shaking in orgasm before he ever penetrated my folds. I tried to match his intense silence, his concentration on my pleasure, but when he finally gave me what I had desperately needed from the outset I knew that I could hold back no longer. I couldn't help but to scream "FUCK ME!!" over and over like a litany. He had me seeing fireworks as he drove into me again and again. Then he picked me up from the desk, never breaking contact, my legs wrapped around his waist, and held me in the air, kissing me furiously as he pounded my pussy.

At some point I didn't even know what I was saying. I forgot where we were. Hell I forgot my own name! All I knew is that I was being fucked within an inch of my life and I couldn't get enough. By the time he came on my belly I was totally satisfied and smiling. He kissed me deeply and for the first time that night I heard something from him that was more than rapid breathing. He thanked me for the wonderful evening while his eyes assured me it would not be the last evening of this sort.

Every night after work for a week we fucked. All types of positions, in every room, in every way we gave each other pleasure. The office reeked of sex and sin. Every night he would fuck my brains out, and then I'd go home to my loving husband. He seemed completely unaware that his wife's pussy had been violated by another. In my saner moments I figured that he would eventually find out and divorce me, but when I was with my office lover I didn't have the strength to resist the temptations of lust. He'd give me a look and it was all over from there.

Luckily for my marriage and the life I had built, he was moved to another department and I never saw him again. When he moved on it's like a spell had broken. I saw what I had almost certainly would have ruined. I saw the snickers of the women I'd chastised in the past for displaying just the type of behavior I was displaying. Mostly, I saw my husband, a good man who didn't deserve to have his wife taken from him. I swore to myself that I would never treat him like that ever again, that I would rededicate myself to ensure my husband's happiness. I would bury the truth of my infidelity and never even think about being unfaithful again. And if I ever saw another 'dangerous' man, I would just walk the other way. No fuck, no matter how good, can ever replace the love I bear for my husband.