It Isn't Cheating, Right?byAkito01©
I'm sure everyone is familiar with the phrase, 'married, but not buried.' As I can personally attest, even the most faithful husband is not blind to the beauty and charms of other women. The engine that drives male lust tends to run on automatic.
At the very least, I offer this as some excuse for what I am about to confess. I do have a roving eye, not to mention some internet browsing habits that I've mostly managed to conceal from my better half. In fact, it's usually other women that she's much more suspicious of, with mutterings of 'how she was flirting with you' once we're alone. It's funny how only after I'm married that I suddenly find myself getting attention from the opposite sex.
Before I continue, I really should make clear that I am not the kind of man who cheats. Most of my sexual fantasies tend to involve women of no specific identity; one's born of my own imagination or living in the realm of other's erotic fiction or generic pornography. There are exceptions to this rule, and the most recent would be my wife's good friend Lilly. Ever since I first met her some four years ago, I've kept a secret hard-on for this woman.
When I say that Lilly is just over fifty years old, I hope I won't put anyone off. I think if you were to see her for yourself, you'd understand exactly why she became such an object of erotic fascination. From her clear blue eyes, short ash-blonde hair and delicate arrangement of nose and cheekbones; she is, quite simply, pretty. There are many kinds of beauty, but this most basic quality manages to endure through time. In addition, she is also very lithe and fit; certainly in much better shape than my chosen life-mate, whom one might say is built for comfort rather than speed. On various occasions, I've had the pleasure of watching Lilly work outside in the summer sun, wearing her khaki shorts and a light breezy top. On those days, I'd go to bed with images of those elegant yet strong legs, and her oh-so tiny breasts just barely visible under her clothes. I'd give anything to press that soft flesh against my palm and tease her pink nipples with my tongue until they became hard and firm.
I'd never given any serious thought about turning these fantasies to reality, but a very odd opportunity for mischief came my way a couple of years ago. She was going out of town for about a week or so, and dropped our place by to ask if we could keep an eye on her place and pick up her mail. She lived alone, and often relied on her friends for these kinds of favors. Naturally, we were only too happy to oblige, though the task was inevitably going to rest entirely with me.
From the time Lilly gave us her spare set of keys, I thought about being alone in her condo. It held a strange fascination, because it was tempting to think about having all that time alone in a single woman's private home -especially one I'd had such erotic fantasies about.
On this particular day, having retrieved her mail and walking down the plain narrow corridor to her condo, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I'd thought about it every night for the least three nights, going to sleep with a rampant erection, dreaming of the opportunity. Stepping through the door, I quickly shut both deadbolts behind me and dropped the collection of letters on the nearest convenient table.
I stood there for a while, taking in the familiar sight of Lilly's living room. It was difficult to feel entirely comfortable, since I'd never been present here before without Lilly and my wife. There was still a lingering scent of Lilly herself in the air, of her daily living and personal perfume that marked this as her place and no one else's.
I knew that there were no security cameras in the building, but my eyes automatically darted to the corners of the ceiling just to be sure. The cost of discovery would be extremely high for what I intended to do. A few nightmare scenarios flitted through my mind; what if she somehow came home days early, or gave spare keys to other people as well?
I walked around the living room, slowly defeating my anxiety as I looked at her inert TV and the various papers and knick-knacks on her work desk. The air conditioner had been shut off in her absence, making the air warm and still. The window blinds were quite firmly closed, and I took a peek just to make sure no one was around outside. For the afternoon, at least, Lilly's home was my playground.
While I'd been cautiously padding around, I casually but deliberately pressed my hand over the crotch of my jeans, provoking a pleasant erection in anticipation of what was to come. No longer feeling the need to be so careful, I unbuttoned and stripped off my pants entirely. I'm sure I was openly grinning as I continued to undress, thinking of all the times I'd been here before, chatting with Lilly while secretly ogling her sweet small breasts and lovely legs. By the time I was down to my snug fitting white briefs, I was already quite hard and eager.
This was pretty much my last chance to step back from the brink. One more step, and I would be completely naked in the condo of my wife's longtime friend. Well, at least it isn't cheating, right? No harm, no foul, and all that...
Sliding off my underpants, they joined the rest of my disordered clothes on the immaculately clean carpet. I clasped my bare erection, giving it a gentle squeeze just to underline the point. This was only the beginning, and I'd become bored of the living room -it was time to take my solo party to her bedroom.
Stepping quietly into this intimate space, I took in every detail as I slowly stroked myself. There was no mistaking that this was the bedroom of a single woman of a certain age, from the delicate perfumed scent that hung in the air to the various family photos on the walls and dresser. It wasn't a large bedroom, but it seemed like there were no shortage of small corners to poke my nose into and explore.
I was tempted to wonder if there wasn't a vibrator tucked away somewhere. I liked to imagine Lilly lying alone in her bed, hands between her thighs as she brought herself to orgasm while reliving past sexual adventures; maybe her fingers weren't the only thing pressed against her clit.
I was also eager to get a good look at what I hoped would be her panty drawer. I'm not at all what one would call a panty-sniffer, and married life had diminished my boyish fascination with a ladies silky under-things; but right then, I would very much have liked to touch and caress Lilly's most intimate garments as I aroused myself.
If this were a fictional tale, I would have found that slender white vibrator, and used a pair of her silk panties to stroke off to messy orgasm. Sadly, this was not the case. While I did open her clothes drawers, caution prevented any serious rummaging -I knew Lilly would be very unhappy if she suspected I'd been going through her things, even if she remained blissfully ignorant of everything else I was doing in her bedroom. I could only content myself with fingering some of her neatly folded, brightly colored tops. That was all right, because the bed was waiting a mere step away.
I brushed my hand across the comforter, teasing myself with thoughts of Lilly sleeping beneath these very sheets. Did she sleep in the nude, or wear a nightshirt? Had she invited any men into this bed with her? If not... Well, she was about to have one anyway.
Mounting the mattress with one knee, I grasped my cock firmly in my right hand, pointing it towards her pillow. The image of feeding my prick to Lilly's delicate lips was irresistible, and as I teased my thumb across the sensitive tip of my cock, I thought of her tongue scraping across it as she sucked me. Just to enhance the perversity of what I was doing, I leaned forward and pushed my prick into her pillow, brushing the underside of my glans back and forth on the soft cream-colored linen.
In the rational part of my mind that wasn't busy being a total pervert, I knew I couldn't keep this up indefinitely. While ejaculating over her bed sheets would have been a unique joy, the resulting stain would have been impossible to miss. Even as I reluctantly left the bedroom, my hand remained encamped on my erect member, its craving need for stimulation overriding any sense of propriety.
The final destination on my tour of Lilly's home was the bathroom. It was not especially large, but very cozy as well as immaculately clean and unmistakably feminine. The most charming feature was the sink, which was a pearl-shaded pink and shaped like an empty scallop shell. On the cluttered and full wicker shelves next to the sink I spied a dispenser of hand lotion. If that wasn't exactly what the doctor ordered...
Taking a generous dollop of the sweetly scented cream, I smeared it over the head of my penis and down along the shaft. It felt pleasantly cool, but more importantly, allowed me to rub and stroke myself with much greater freedom and vigor.
I glanced over at the shower to my right, picturing Lilly standing naked in the stall, warm water sheeting down her perfect ivory skin. How much fun it would be to join her there, wrapping her up in my arms as I press her slender back close to my chest. As I caressed her slick flesh, my prick would prod against the cheeks of her ass, begging for entrance and release deep inside. Unconsciously responding to this fantasy, my fist squeezed a little harder, a drop of pre-cum seeping forth as proof of my excitement.
Clutching the edge of the sink with my free hand, I aimed my erection over the shallow, shell-shaped basin. I originally planned use her toilet to safely expel my passion, but Lilly's sink was set so conveniently level with my hips, making for a much more exquisite option. Not looking into the wall-mounted mirror, I kept my head down, entirely focused on this act of desecration.
My breath quickened as my arousal rapidly mounted, an inevitable response to the actions of my clever fingers slipping greasily over the smooth underside of my cock and the sensitive skin of my glans. Even more pre-cum emerged, joining with the now translucent hand lotion, making my fingertips wet and slick. Staring transfixed, and nearly oblivious to my surroundings, I knew it wouldn't be long now. My guilty fantasy was about to be realized.
Jaw set and rising up on my toes, I held my breath when I felt that familiar tingle deep inside. I shuddered, visibly I'm sure, teetering against the edge of the sink as I felt the overwhelming surge of climax. Clutching the base of my cock, I directed my unleashed semen into the sink, the thick white gobs splashing against the opposite side and collecting in uncouth pools.
For a while I stood frozen like that, the last ebbs of my ejaculate dripping from my gradually deflating organ. As my head cleared from its state of orgasmic bliss, I immediately felt a pang of anxiety and regret. I turned on the water and quickly washed away the results of my solo infidelity down the drain. I thoroughly washed my hands and regained my clothes, leaving the place as quickly as if I'd robbed it.
I'm not sure it's right to say I was proud of my perverted accomplishment, though I didn't feel any particular lingering shame either. In fact, even now, I still feel a certain secret glee whenever I see Lilly again. Until writing this story, only I knew that I've had the pleasure of being naked in her bedroom and stealing an orgasm while in her home. As I said before, I'm not the kind of man who cheats, so hopefully no one will judge too harshly this bit of acting out of my secret fantasies.