Invitation to Adultery

It was the last thing I expected. It had been four years since I'd last seen or heard from Paul. Now, out of the blue, here was a letter and the memories came flooding back.

Dear Clare, it read.

I shouldn't even be writing this but I can't help myself.

It turns out that I'm going to be back in the UK. My company is expanding and, because of my local knowledge, I've been asked to help.

I'm going to be in Bradford, staying at the Regent on the 24th/25th. I shouldn't ask you this but if you are free I'd really like to catch up with you.

I know we haven't kept in touch and there are probably hundreds of reasons why you wouldn't be able or want to see me. If that's the case I'll understand. I just couldn't stand being so near you without even trying to contact you.

I hope you'll be able to make it but if not I'll understand. I know I'm being unfair trying to swan, however briefly, back into your life but I do still think about you.

All my love,

Paul

I must have read his letter a dozen times and as I did my mind slid back to the summer of four years ago.

Eight weeks. That was all the time we'd had together. Eight short weeks that seemed like an eternity at the time. We'd just graduated. Paul was jetting of to California to do his Master's and I was due to start my first job after graduation. The intensity of our relationship was frightening, perhaps because we knew our time was limited. Neither of us held any illusions that we had a future once the summer was over. We simply lived every moment we had as if it was our last, cramming as much experience as we could into the time we had.

We'd met, inevitably, at the end of term party. Paul was the "friend of a friend" that always seem to be present at these affairs. He was someone I knew to see and had probably said no more than a dozen words to during the four years we'd been at university. Our eyes met briefly across the room and he smiled. I smiled back, my knees strangely weak.

Paul was about 6'2", well built, I remembered that he played rugby. Not what you'd call stunning by any means but quite good looking in a slightly dishevelled sort of way.

I walked over to the table that was serving as a make-shift bar and helped myself to a another drink. I chatted to friends, danced and drank more than was probably good for me. There was a slightly frantic atmosphere that could probably put down to a mixture of the end of term need to let off steam and the fact that, in many cases, this was the last time we'd all be together. Many of the friendships that had been made over the last few years would begin to fall apart as we went out into the world to take up careers.

At some point Paul asked me to dance. We'd caught each others' eye on a number of occasions but finally he'd got me when we were both on our own. An excitement rose within me as we danced. I was drawn to him and I was pretty sure he was attracted to me.

I hadn't intentionally gone on a man hunt that night but I'd gone to a fair effort to do myself up, I always did. Without wanting to sound big headed I knew I was attractive. 5'6", with shoulder length, dark, curly hair. Body; slim but generously curved in all the right places, kept firm with regular exercise. A tight, black, v-neck halter top, figure hugging leggings, to show my legs off to good effect and a little denim jacket completed the look. I looked good and I felt good. My finals, a six week onslaught of stress induced abstinence were behind me and if a little excitement was to pass my way, I certainly wasn't going to let it pass me by. No, I hadn't gone looking for anything in particular that evening but I was alert to the possibility.

As Paul and I danced I became aware of the frustration that I'd endured and that only heightened the sense of excitement and anticipation that I was feeling.

Then, suddenly, the music changed. The DJ obviously decided the time had come to put on a few slow numbers. Paul looked at me with a quizzical smile. I simply smiled back and moved into his embrace. My body melted against his and as we slowly moved in time to the music I could feel his reaction, that gallant reflex, as our bodies moved together. I smiled, "What's this I feel?", I whispered, standing on tiptoes to reach his ear. Paul smiled then slowly, giving me every chance to break away, moved to kiss me.

Our lips touched. That was all it took. One fleeting contact and my passion, suppressed as it had been for so long, ignited. I wanted him. There and then; I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him to undress me and explore my body with his hands, to tease me with his lips and tongue, to take me as he desired, driving me wild with passion, satisfying my every need. What, I suddenly realised, I needed was a good, hard fuck, and I wanted Paul to be the one to administer it.

As we danced the feeling of anticipation grew. I simply had to have him. From the evidence I could feel I was pretty certain Paul felt the same way. I whispered to him "Meet me outside on a couple of minutes". I gathered up my things and made my way out. Once outside I waited nervously. I lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, wondering what was keeping him. Finally, as I stubbed it out, I resigned myself to the fact that I'd misread the situation and that he hadn't really been interested. I was just about to give up when Paul, looking slightly flustered, emerged through the door.

"Sorry.", he breathed, "Couldn't find my coat."

"I forgive you.", I laughed and then we kissed. His lips pressed against mine and I could feel fire in my veins. Reluctantly I pulled away. "Come on.", I said, my voice hoarse with desire. "Let's go." I took his hand and led him the short walk to my flat.

The flat was empty, I knew it would be. Sarah, my flatmate was away with her boyfriend and wouldn't be back until Monday. Closing the door behind us, I kissed Paul briefly then led him to my room.

And then our lips were together again. Our hands roaming all over each others' bodies as we struggled to remove each others' clothes. Our jackets lay forgotten on the floor. My fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt and were soon exploring his tightly muscled chest. My top was lifted over my head, I raised my arms to let it be removed completely.

Paul cupped my newly revealed breasts in his hands then began to suck on them. A bolt of pure pleasure ran through me as his tongue teased my nipples. My hands feel to his jeans tugging at the buttons. With one movement I pulled his jeans and boxers down over his hips, revealing a cock that was long, thick and very, very hard.

"I want that inside me," I said as I stepped back, removing my leggings and slowly peeling off my black, lacy knickers. Paul rummaged in his jacket pocket. He dug out his wallet then extracted a condom from one of the compartments.

"Feeling lucky were you?", I asked with an wicked little smile.

"A good Boy Scout is always prepared.", he replied with a grin.

I laughed and snatched it from him. I removed it from its wrapper and dropped to my knees. Since Paul's cock was so handy I opened my mouth and took it between my lips and gave it a quick suck.

Paul gasped as my mouth engulfed his cock. I slid my lips up and down his shaft a couple of times but the fire in my pussy needed to be put out. I reluctantly removed my mouth and put the condom in place, my fingers expertly rolling it along the length of his cock. Then I took his hand and led him over to my bed.

"Fuck me!", I whispered as we lay down. "I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel your cock filling me. Do it to me now!"

I closed my eyes as Paul parted my legs and positioned himself between them. I wrapped my legs around his as I felt the head of his cock press against my entrance. Then slowly I felt him slide into me. I cried out as inch by glorious inch Paul slid his cock into my cunt, burying himself to the root, my pussy stretching to accommodate him fully.

"Oh Clare", he moaned, as his hips began to move, "You feel so good."

"Mmm.", was all I could reply as I pushed my hips back to meet another slow, powerful thrust.

I brought my knees up to let him in deeper. "Harder! Ooh harder!", I moaned as his cock ground in and out. Paul responded. His pace increased. My hands clutched at his arse, trying to push him in deeper. "Ahhh mmm!", I sighed as a warm glow spread out from my pussy to engulf my whole body.

We rolled over. My pussy slid up and down the length of his shaft. The walls of my cunt gripped it tightly, milking it as I rode him with mounting intensity. With each thrust of my hips I ground my pubic bone against his, sending small electric shocks through my swollen clit.

Almost two months of frustrated celibacy were being washed away as over and over again I impaled myself on Paul's dick. My body moved to a rhythm of its own as I lost myself to the sensations.

Paul propped himself up and started playing with my breasts, cupping and squeezing them in his hands, licking and sucking them. His attentions lifted me to new heights of passion. I slid my pussy up to the very tip of his cock and briefly held myself there. Then I slammed myself back down, my pussy filled utterly with his cock. Over and over again, up and down, savouring the feeling of every inch of my pussy's journey along the length of his shaft.

We rolled back and I was below him again. His cock plunging in and out of me like a piston, our hips marking time together meeting each thrust.

"Go on!", I urged. "Harder, harder. Fuck me harder! Don't stop. Please don't stop. Fuck me! Go on, fuck me! Fuck meeee!!"

Sweat was dripping off Paul's face as he ground his cock into me. He was getting close. I could feel my own climax building and I wondered if he could hold out long enough to tip me over the edge.

"Clare, oh Clare.", he sighed as his body began to tremble. I pulled him close and held him tight as with one final convulsive thrust he came.

We lay there, just holding each other for a few minutes then, gently, Paul pulled out. He stood up then bent over and kissed me. "Don't go away, I'll just be a minute." he said then turned and walked towards the bathroom.

I hadn't come yet but I needn't have worried. Paul came back into the room. He kissed me. "Now it's your turn.", he said. With that he climbed between my legs, lowered his face to my pussy and began to lick.

"Yesssss!", I gasped as his tongue lightly flicked my clit. I pinched my nipples as Paul expertly explored my pussy with his tongue.

Paul applied his tongue with firm strokes that had me at boiling point in almost no time at all. My body shook uncontrollably as my orgasm broke over me like a tidal wave of pleasure.

"Don't stop, don't stop!", I cried, clutching his hair, pushing his face hard against my mound. His tongue flicked slowly over my engorged clit, keeping up a steady pressure.

"Yes! Oh God, yes! Oohh.", I cried out as I climaxed again and again. Paul held me on the precipice for what seemed like an eternity as wave after orgasmic wave pounded me. Finally, my body no longer my own to control, Paul sensed that I could take no more. I felt his strong arms gather me up, holding me tightly to him as I recovered.

We lay there for a while secure in the afterglow of our passion. Finally I turned and kissed him.

"I've some wine in the fridge. Want some?", I asked

"Yeah sure.", came the reply.

I got up and made my way to the kitchen and poured two glasses. I returned to the bedroom and handed Paul his glass. I fumbled around in my things until I found my cigarettes, lit one then snuggled up to Paul.

He held me close as we drank our wine. When our glasses were empty I stubbed out my cigarette then turned to kiss him. Our hands caressing each other as our lips pressed against each others. I noticed that part of him had recovered from its earlier exertions.

I took his cock in my hands and stroked it. Our mouths increased their passion. When I judged he was hard enough I pushed him away, got off the bed and knelt down between his legs. I parted my lips and took his cock into my mouth.

My lips slowly slid up and down his shaft. My hand stocked up and down in a counter beat to my mouth. I sucked hard with long slow strokes, occasionally removing his cock from my mouth to lick his shaft and suck lightly on his balls.

Paul grabbed my head and thrust his hips, fucking my mouth as I sucked eagerly on his prick.

Then I simply decided that I needed his cock inside me again. I rummaged in the top drawer of my bedside cabinet until I found my supply of condoms. I rolled it over his engorged member then, holding on to the headboard, I positioned myself on my knees in front of him. Paul grabbed my hips and slid into me with a single thrust.

I cried out as he took me with long, powerful strokes. In and out, I thrust my hips back to meet him as he filled me again and again.

Paul leaned forward to grab my breasts with his hands. He squeezed and teased them as his cock pounded me from behind. I let go of the headboard and leant forward on to my pillow, taking my weight on one arm allowing me to reach back and stroke my clit with my free hand.

I came almost at once, Paul's cock buried deep inside me only added to the sensations. My body shook as my climax held me in its grasp.

Suddenly Paul's cock was no longer in my pussy. I felt its head press against my other entrance. I pushed my hips back to meet him as his well lubricated prick slowly slid into my arse. "Aahh, mmmm, oohh God that feels sooo good!", I moaned as Paul sank his cock, right up to the root, in my arsehole. I rubbed my clit with one hand as Paul grabbed my hips and started to slide his cock in and out.

It felt so dirty having Paul's cock in my arse as I furiously frigged my throbbing clit with my fingers while Paul's hands rubbed and squeezed my breasts. In and out, in and out, over and over again, Paul's cock rammed my arse.

My body began to shake again. "Oh God, fuck me! Harder, harder! Oh Paul, fuck me hard!", I screamed as I came yet again, my whole body aflame.

Paul continued to thrust. His breathing deepened as he got close to his own climax. He pulled my hips back as with one final lunge he came, his cock still buried in my arse.

Finally he withdrew and we collapsed, spent, together in each others' arms, holding each other close.

Paul eventually got up to take a shower. I snuggled up under my quilt. When he came back he kissed me and started to get dressed.

"You can stay you know?", I said, sitting up and lighting a cigarette.

"I'd love to", he replied, "but I'm playing rugby at 9 and my stuff's all over at my place. Not that after tonight I'll be much use to anyone." The last was said with a grin. I threw my pillow at him playfully.

Paul scrabbled in his pockets until he found a pen and a scrap of paper. He scribbled something quickly and passed it to me. "My number", he said, "I'll be back sometime after lunch. Give me a call and we can meet up."

And that was that. For the next eight weeks we fucked. We fucked and then, as quickly as we met, we parted. And now four years later I was faced with the possibility that, briefly, we might be together again. What should I do? Could the magic be rekindled? If we did meet up, could it live up to my memories?

I pulled myself up short. What about Craig? We've been married for 3 years. Could I cheat on him? Would sleeping with Paul again, even if it was only once, really be cheating on Craig? I was torn with indecision.

Don't get me wrong, I love Craig. We met about 6 months after Paul left and we were married 6 months later. He was intelligent and considerate and our sex life was pretty good. Not the same tumultuous passion there'd been with Paul but still satisfying in a safe and secure kind of way.

Safe, that's what Craig was. Safe, secure, dependable and utterly familiar. Oh he was adventurous enough and could be extremely passionate but more than 3 years together had all but robbed our lovemaking of excitement, an excitement that Paul and I had never had time to exhaust. Still was that little extra zest worth risking everything I had for? I was confused. I was also extremely turned on.

It was Wednesday. Craig arrived home about 9:30 having eaten in town then gone on to play football. I had re-read Paul's letter a dozen times. Part of me wanted to see him again. That part was at war with the part saying no, leave it in the past where it belongs. I was torn between following my heart and my head and I didn't know which way to go. Each time I read the letter a new set of memories were relived. By the time Craig got home I was ready to explode.

Craig was pleasantly surprised at the passionate greeting that awaited him on his return. He responded with an ardour that he rarely displayed. I don't know if it was my high state of arousal or the intensity of Craig's passion or some subtle combination, but I came so violently I almost fainted as Craig's cock ploughed in and out of my pussy with hot, surging stokes. I came at least four times until, finally, Craig's balls released their load deep inside me, flooding my pussy with hot, sticky cum.

Pleased as I had been by the intensity of our passion I was delighted if more than a little surprised when it became obvious that Craig was keen for an encore. It was slower this time, less frantic, more caring, gentler.

It was as I lay there, Craig's cock inside me, gently massaging my inner most being that I made my decision. I would risk it and see Paul when he was here. Much as I love and need Craig I also needed the excitement that Paul alone, of all my lovers, could give me. And then, as if my decision had caused a dam to burst, I came.

"Oh God Craig, I love you!", I moaned as my orgasm washed over me.

"Oh Clare! Oh my sweet darling Clare!", he whispered in my ear, holding me tight as his penis erupted inside me once more.

Paul had included his e-mail address on the letter. I replied from work the next day and after a flurry of messages in each direction we worked out the details.

Manufacturing an excuse was easy. My job constantly involved me attending seminars around the country. These usually involved staying away overnight. I simply invented one that coincided with the dates that Paul would be around.

Craig greeted the news with a shrug. "That's ok", he said, "I'm used to it. I'm sure I'll cope. Besides, I'm long overdue a visit from 'my other woman' anyway."

I laughed a little nervously. This was a long standing joke between us. This time however, even if Craig wasn't aware of the fact, it was a little too close to home. I must admit to feeling more than a little guilty about the way I was deceiving Craig but I knew I'd suffer endlessly from "what if?" and "if only" if I didn't go. On the plus side the excitement of my impending reunion with Paul had me in a state of near constant arousal. For the next fortnight our sex life was fantastic. It had always been good even if it had become a little predictable but the whole situation raised our love-making to another level. I still wonder if Craig has any idea as to what happened.

The day finally came. I'd made sure that I'd covered for myself at work, I had my mobile with me if anyone really needed to get hold of me. The sense of excitement and anticipation had risen to fever pitch as the minutes of the day ticked by.

I'd arrived at the hotel about 5:30ish, Paul was due to arrive around six. I left my case at reception and wandered through to the bar. I had a couple of glasses of wine and smoked a couple of cigarettes as I waited. I experienced a strange mix of emotions: nervousness and anticipation, desire and excitement, guilt and arousal.

I was so caught up in the wash of feelings that I almost missed his arrival. I snapped out of my daydream and waved to him as he walked through the door.