Morals

At that point, Susan came, loudly, gripping the couch with her left hand the top of her head with her right. Richard stopped moving his finger, but kept the pressure on her clitoris until Susan stopped moving and her breathing slowed.

"Holy shit", she gasped after a moment. Richard pulled out his handkerchief, wiped off his finger, and turned back to his work. Susan lay there for awhile, then realizing what Richard was doing, zipped up her jeans and snapped them closed. She simply lay on the couch for several minutes reveling in the intensity of the orgasm. "That was wonderful", she finally said.

"Thank you", replied Richard, a hand in front and one behind, bowing theatrically.

"No, thank you" she said. "That was totally what I needed. You are awesome", and she gave Richard a kiss on the cheek.

"Maybe another time we can find out how the story ends" she said later.

"Maybe", replied Richard.

That was then and this was now. Here she was, lying naked on her back, with Richard, spent, on top of her, still inside her. She knew that one of the reasons that he had wanted to do thing slowly was so neither of them broke a sweat, more a problem for him than her. After all, wouldn't his wife notice that he smelled like a locker room, or another woman? She was already certain that, barring the discovery of their affair and Richard's eviction from his home, he had no plans to leave his wife. This was purely physical, for both of them. Well, physical in that it was just sex, but emotional in the release that it resulted in, but nothing emotional as far as a relationship with Richard. Was she a bad person now, a homewrecker? Was this not a 50/50 proposition? Richard wasn't being forced to do anything he didn't want to do. It wasn't like she had given him any reason to believe that his job hinged on his agreeing to sex. As far as she was concerned, Richard was equally at fault in the affair. She wasn't married, so she could do as she pleased.

Richard got up and wiped himself off with a towel from the bathroom. He hadn't worn a condom. Since neither of them had slept with anyone but their respective spouses for over 20 years, and she had no reason to doubt Richard's veracity, and since Richard had had a vasectomy neither of them felt the need for protection. She watched him slip on his boxer briefs. He was in good shape in general, much less for an older man. He obviously worked out, and carried himself as if he had no idea how good he looked. She liked that about him. He was subtle, subdued. A great behind-the-scenes player that kept her life and business on-track. She rolled over to face him. "Now what", she asked?

"Now we go downstairs and finish work so I can get home by 6 for dinner" came the expected reply.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Fine thanks, and you?" came the glib response.

"You know what I mean" she continued. "How do you feel about what just happened?" she asked again.

"Look", said Richard, sitting back down on the bed. It was all he could do to not touch her naked body, but he knew that things would just start all over again, and then he'd be late getting home, and didn't want to make up any excuses. "We did what we needed to do. I'm not sure how I feel about that just yet. I'm mean, don't get me wrong, you've got an incredible body, and I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of what just happened, but on the other hand, I've just cheated on my wife, and that's a lot to deal with for me." Susan nodded and Richard finished dressing and went downstairs.

Susan lay in the moment for awhile longer, and got up, put on a robe, and followed Richard downstairs. He was packing up his laptop and papers when she got there. "I don't know if I should kiss you good-bye" she said.

"I don't think that would be appropriate", he replied. "I hope you understand".

"I do", she said. "It's okay".

Chapter

The next day, Susan found Richard's daily update email in her inbox. As soon as she saw the pop-up with his email address, her mind snapped back to the previous afternoon, and a smile crept over her face as she sipped her morning coffee. A warm feeling began to grow in her groin. "That was really nice", she mused. "Lord, did I need that, too!"

Her next thought was if she would be able to concentrate on work in Richard's proximity now. She was hoping that she was sexually satisfied for awhile, and that they could get back to business. She wondered how Richard felt. Was he thinking about her? Was he fantasizing about her? Did she want him to? How would she feel if he wasn't thinking about her, sexually? Was that insulting? Did Richard really see the physical relationship as part of the job, and how would she feel about it if he did? All of these confusing thoughts and feelings were racing around in her mind. "Oh, God; what have I done?" she wondered. "Did I hire a personal prostitute?" she thought. "I don't want us to get emotionally involved, do I? Do I want Richard to feel emotions towards me? What if he was all businesslike the next time they met? Did she want that? Would she be hurt? Insulted? "No", she decided, "that's exactly what we want. What happened was just, um, part of his job?" No, wait, that would be demeaning, right? If Richard just did what he did to, for, Susan as part of his employment, how did that make her feel? Cheap? Used? "Wait; who used whom?" she wondered. "If I used him, am I okay with that? Wait, I knew going in (no pun intended, she smiled) that he was married, sort of happily. I never thought we would become anything more...did I? Holy shit! What have I done? How can I face Richard now? What do I want?"

Her eyes began to moisten. She had managed to take a totally wonderful experience and gotten herself so confused about it, she didn't know how she felt, or what she wanted. "Okay", she decided, wiping her eyes, "let's just get down to business and we'll deal with this later". Since she and Richard only really saw each other once or twice per week, and both had a lot on their plates, she pushed the issue out of her mind and got on with her day.

Richard, for his part, was more like apprehensive than confused. As far as he was concerned, what happened between them was for their mutual satisfaction. He didn't want to consider himself a gigolo, or be too cold about "servicing" his boss, but it wasn't like he was having an affair, either. It was simply a case of, um, "mutual masturbation". Yeah, he liked that. Each of them was scratching an itch, and they were just helping each other. Each was masturbating the other. Rather than watching or reading porn and a vibrator, etc, they were using each other. It was simply a mechanical thing. Back to business. He prepared the daily update of all the projects and sent it to Susan's email address. It wasn't really a strictly, daily occurrence; if there was nothing to update, he didn't send anything. He worked from his home and she worked from hers. They were physically about twenty miles apart. That was good. He checked his calendar. They had no mutual meetings for this week, so compartmentalize the previous afternoon's activity and get back to work.

Chapter

Richard was preparing for his upcoming meeting with Susan. He had some papers for her to sign, and it had been over a week. It wasn't like they were avoiding a physical meeting, it was just that they had no real reason to get together, until now.

Richard packed up his computer case and drove to Susan's house. He had not said anything when Susan suggested just meeting there. After all, they'd met there previously, many times, particularly when there were things for her to sign. It was just more private. Still, he was nervous. He wondered if he should say anything about their previous encounter. Should he compliment her if she was wearing something nice? "Only", he decided, "if it's something I would say to a male colleague."

Susan, too, was nervous. On the one hand, she didn't want to spoil the business relationship with Richard. He really was good at his job. On the other hand, what had happened had happened. She, too, felt like they hadn't had an extramarital affair. They had both just needed sex. They had mutually fulfilled each other's physical need at that time. Yeah; that's her story and she's stickin' to it!

"What a load of bullshit", she thought. She knew that she, and hopefully (maybe?) he, was just rationalizing what had happened. The bottom line, to her formerly ethical mind, was that she had had sex with a married man, that wasn't married to her! That was not a good thing any way you looked at it. The question is, "what now?" Should she even say something to Richard? Should she just let it be in the past? Gasp! Did Richard think (want?) it was going to happen again? She went back to her previous conflicts about how she felt and how she wanted to feel, juxtaposed against how she wanted him to feel. "How do I want him to feel?" she asked herself. She didn't have ANY answers, just a lot of questions, and they were running the gamut from moral, to emotional, to physical (it felt REALLY great, after all).

Having reached absolutely no conclusions, she found herself staring out the front window as Richard pulled into the driveway. "Holy shit", she thought, panicking, "now what? Now, nothing", she told herself, "business as usual", she decided. Yeah, sure.

Richard took a deep breath and got out of his car. He had been intentionally focusing his mind on business on the drive. It took a great deal of effort on his part not to recall Susan's body and how it responded to his touch, as he drove to the meeting. He felt his pants beginning to get tight and that, fortunately, forced him to re-focus. This happened several times during the course of the twenty minutes it took him to get to her place. Sometimes requiring more effort than others. "It was really good, after all", he told himself, smiling, recalling the look of concern, uncertainty, on the face of the "mature" woman, as he walked out of the bathroom. He worked out. He lifted weights. Hell, when he had energy, he could still manage fifteen to twenty minutes of kick-boxing on his seventy-five pound bag. He was proud of his mid-fifty-year-old body. He knew he looked good, and he knew what Susan's ex- looked like from her Facebook pictures. He'd done his due diligence on her before the first meeting. To Richard, he looked like a red-neck construction worker with curly hair and a gut. He might have had muscles, it was hard to tell from the photo, but he was way out of shape. By comparison, Richard knew he looked hot...for a mid-fifties guy. He also knew, from Susan, that her ex- was an alcoholic. That was the main reason that she hadn't gotten much from him physically, or emotionally in the final years of their marriage.

"What a waste" Richard had thought when she first told him. Granted, Susan wasn't twenty-five, but she looked great. She was about Richard's height, and had been wearing a v-neck top that exposed a bit of cleavage, and that ended right at the top of her jeans, so he'd been able to determine that her tummy was reasonably flat, for a fifty-plus mother of two. He could also tell that she took care of herself; eating right and working out. But he was also aware of the symptoms of alcoholism from personal experience. How it became all-consuming, to the exclusion of relationships, employment, etc, so he could sort of imagine how the ex- had lost interest. However, to Richard it was one of life's conundrums that he knew several women, in his age group, that wanted sex, either from their husband or in general, and weren't getting enough, and he knew several others, like his wife, that just weren't so interested. Granted, if he initiated, his wife was happy to accommodate, but after awhile he could tell that she was ambivalent about it. Okay, sure, she had a demanding job, and yes, she was going through menopause, so he cut her a great deal of slack for both situations, but his wife also kept herself in pretty good shape, and had a great rack!

Unfortunately, most of his "rack recon" as he'd heard it phrased in the military, was watching her get into bed, and either turn over to fall asleep or pull out her book. He guessed if he pushed the issue, he'd get more sex, but he was dissatisfied with her passive interested. Susan wanted sex. Wanted him. "Stop it", he commanded himself, "you've got to keep it as something you did for your employer, like opening a bank account or getting her cleaning. More like a stress-relieving back rub, than an extramarital affair. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!" he decided.

"Shit", the thought came rushing back, "I fucked up. Wait; I didn't really have an 'affair'. It only happened the one time. Does that even count?" He knew to Joanie, his wife of twenty-five years, it would sure as hell "count". He had no illusions about her response if she ever found out. He'd be the hell out. Then he thought about how his kids would feel. The disappointment; the anger. "No," he resolved, "whatever happens going forward, Joanie can never find out." He'd see to that. If Susan ever brought up the issue, or requested a repeat performance, he'd make it absolutely clear to her that if his wife ever found out about it, there would be dire consequences. He realized that he wasn't ruling out a repeat performance, he was just being honest, but he had to be sure. Susan might eventually find someone, and he sure as hell planned to spend the rest of his life with Joanie. After all, eventually things would calm down at her company; they'd been through this cycle before, and eventually the whole menopause thing would resolve itself. He was certain that he'd get his wife back, eventually. In the meantime, he had arrived. His reflection had resolved the issue in his pants, favorably!

Chapter

Susan opened the door as he approached, "I happened to look out and saw you drive up", she said by way of greeting.

"Timing is everything", he replied, smiling and walking past her into the dining room. He thought it would be more efficient to work at the table. It would also preclude any issues on the couch. They conducted the business, going over all of Susan's various business enterprises and the status or progress for each. He asked her advice as to how to handle some matters, and offered her options on others. She made her decisions, leaving the minutia to him. That was, after all, what he was there for; the details.

After that, Susan outlined some new projects that she'd been thinking about, and Richard asked questions and offered opinions. He made notes about research he felt that he had to do to enable him to offer his opinion regarding the viability and profitability (not all of her projects were for profit; some were philanthropic). Finally, he asked if there was anything else he could do for her at the moment, and that was the shoe that dropped. He felt himself blush, he saw her blush. The both looked down at their hands and waited; neither having any idea how to proceed.

Susan was back to not knowing how Richard felt, and he was back to not knowing himself. For her part, Susan still wasn't even sure how she wanted him to feel. One the one hand, she naturally wanted him to feel something. After all, he'd been naked on top of her and inside her. Just that memory caused her body to start to respond. On the other hand, the only way she could morally justify it was to treat it like a massage at a spa. Something she'd paid for, right? The bottom line problem was that the whole thing so conflicted with their morals, but satisfied such a need, that neither had any idea what they wanted the other to feel, much less say.

They sat for awhile, probably less than a minute actually, in an awkward silence. He'd asked the question, so he felt justified in waiting for a response. "Um, nothing that I can think of right now", she fumbled a response. "Okay, look, we need to talk about this", she suddenly blurted out.

"Okay, let's talk" he replied. , and looked into her eyes. Both felt a stirring as they waited for something to be said.

"Um, okay, listen" she began, "I think we can agree that what happened was a, um, pleasant experience, right?"

"Absolutely" he replied, "one hundred percent mutual".

"Okay, then, I also think that we're both having issues trying to resolve it in our heads" she continued.

"Look, Susan", Richard began, "what happened did so because we both wanted it to happen. We can rationalize it any way we want to, but, in my opinion, and I hope you share this with me, we wanted it, we needed it, and as two mature adults, we made an affirmative decision to do it. Neither of us coerced the other. You didn't order me to do it as part of my job, and I'm confident that you really don't want me to feel like you did. Am I right?" he asked. Susan nodded. She was relieved that he felt that way, and equally relieved to find that she wanted him to feel that way. Like he said, rationalize it anyway you want to, but the bottom line was that they had both wanted to have sex. They had both needed it to happen, and neither seemed too upset that it had happened.

"So now what?" she asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure" he said, "I feel guilty about cheating on my wife, and let's just call it what it is, but you and I are both physical people. We need physical, if not the emotional contact. As I said before, I truly adore my wife and have no plans to ever leave her. I know that you are aware of all of that, and I know that I've been open and honest with you from the start on that issue."

"You have, and for what it's worth, I respect that about you. You are honest and ethical." She said, the irony of her statement only hitting her after she'd said it. "You know what I mean", she added.

"I do. I consider myself to be an honest and ethical guy, and I'm having just as much trouble as I think you are with this situation. I know that it conflicts with your values, just like it conflicts with mine, and I'm equally at a loss as to what to do, other than realize what it is. We're two people that needed sex and helped each other" he said. "I admit to feeling badly about it in many ways, but in other ways, I'm not sorry that it happened, and I don't think you are either."

"You're right", she answered, "though the wine certainly helped, we obviously both wanted it, needed it, and took advantage of the situation. So now we're back to square one. What's next?"

Richard was wearing a white t-shirt under his snug-fitting sweater, and his physique did not escape her notice. For her part, she had decided on another scoop-neck shirt that came almost to her jeans, which fit her snugly, over a bra. She wasn't sure whether she had dressed consciously or sub-consciously to get his attention, but it was what it was.

"Wine?" she asked. It was three in the afternoon.

"Sadly, yes", he replied.

"Sadly?" she asked, getting up to get the wine and seeing him follow her towards the kitchen, stopping at the couch. "Yeah, 'cause I'm pretty sure that we've just resolved the issue." She poured two glasses of the fruity, German wine, imagining she could feel his eyes on her ass. She turned and walked back, "and what might that resolution be?" she asked, bending more than she had to in front of Richard to set the wine down. He, very obviously looked down her shirt.

"Nice" he said admiringly.

"I'm getting a sense of how you believe this issue to have been resolved", she said, sitting right next to him. He took his glass from her and took a sip. "And please let me know if we're not on the same page here, because it's critical to this relationship that all things are mutual", he said.

She took a sizeable swallow of the wine and said, "I think we're on the same page here" and leaned forward to kiss him.

As their lips touched, both put their glasses on the table. Her hands went to his head, her tongue went into his mouth. "Steady, girl", she thought to herself, "we're not eighteen anymore. Let's not be too eager. He's a boy, they're always ready". Feeling her tongue in his mouth, Richard put his right hand on her shoulder and eased her shirt over it, taking the bra strap with it. Her breast exposed, his mouth was on it in a heartbeat, his other hand grasping her by the back of the head, firmly. Susan found herself actually pulling his head to her, encouraging him to suck, hard. She could feel the tension growing between them. "I don't think it's going to go slowly this time" she told herself, thinking that was okay, too. Encouraged by the pressure on the back of his head, Richard sucked hard, and heard the resultant moan from Susan. Her breast fully in his mouth, he dropped his hand to her pants and began to open them, his other hand grasping her hair. "She likes me to be in control", he thought to himself. "He's taking charge again, awesome", she thought at the same time. She was hot; she was wet.