Cheating Pt. 01

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A message from the author.

I know that it is not everyone’s cup of tea. I know equally well though that there are many of us who thrive on it, who enjoy it and get a big buzz from it. I know I do. I get a massive kick and huge excitement from it. There’s some guilt and trepidation too of course, but they are relatively easily overcome. And when you have a fling or an affair the downsides are far outweighed by the upsides, well they seem to be at the time. And one of the upsides, ironically, is that often after an affair, fling or a one-night stand and usually during it as well you feel closer to your partner and it can become the glue that keeps the relationship stuck together.

Now I am talking, of course, about women cheating. Horrific is it may sound to some bigoted men, it does happen. Women do go off and ‘sow their wild oats,’ oddly just like men do and have done for years. Well in this new age it’s the females’ time and it’s us who can have our cakes and eat them as we fuck both our husband and our lovers.

I’m talking about cheating. About playing away from home, being unfaithful and having bits on the side. Long term affairs, short flings and even one-night stands, they all provide that buzz, that kick and usually those thrills and excitement. And during and between my two marriages I have had loads buzzes and kicks and lots of thrills and excitement.

Liaisons such as described above arise from many situations. This series of stories, some of which is taken from real life as it happened to me, looks at the motivations, pleasures, excitement and concerns of the more common circumstances.

Christina x


The Work Colleague.

In some ways the workplace is a disaster area. It throws relatively happily married people together without their partners. And of course the inevitable happens all too often. It is the place where more illicit assignations take place and where more men and women seem to forget their marriage vows as both dip their pans in company ink.

He was not exactly my boss, but he was senior to me and a member of the senior management group and like many women I am attracted to men with power and Kendal certainly had that.

It was a classic office affair. Two people away from their partners attracted to each other. The build-up was so typical; more contact and talk than was necessary during the working day, coffees and lunch together in the company restaurant, moving onto drinks outside it, which escalate to lunch in restaurants or pubs, all possibly innocent. But then the big move, the heavy stuff, dinner. That meant lying to our partners; the thin end of the wedge, making excuses and making sure when we got home there was no tell-tale smell of perfume or aftershave or my stray blonde hairs on his jacket or shirt.

In some ways the lying, the excuses and the clear deceiving of the partner is a bigger step than the almost inevitable next one, climbing into bed. It took us less than five weeks from being introduced to having sex, one month to get to know each other well enough to go to bed together, thirty one days from shaking hands to fucking.

However, it didn’t last long, such affairs rarely do. We both had our heads in place. It wasn’t love. Well not the sort where you want to spend your lives together at the expense of existing relationships and families. But then it was not just lust. There is a state somewhere in between those two that encourage people like Kendal and me to risk all for a few months of excitement together.

Office romances seem to break down into three categories. Long term affairs that just go on endlessly, serious shit where the couple ditch their partners and quickies where the pair have a few shags and find the sex just isn’t worth all the guilt, lies and cheatings. Ours was very much in the latter category although whilst it goes on the guilt, lies and cheating were bostancı escort all major turn ons.

It was after the first time that we went to dinner that we kissed, properly that is for he had pecked me goodbye on the cheek a couple of times. We lived in different directions from the central London offices where we worked; I was to the north in Hertfordshire and he to the west in Chiswick. So we said good night between the restaurant in Covent Garden and Holborn tube station. Well we actually said goodnight in a dark little alleyway just off Great Queen Street to be precise

Had I have given such things much thought beforehand, I might have assumed that being in another man’s arms would have worried me; it didn’t. I could well have felt that being pulled against the body of a man other than my husband might have surprised me; it didn’t. And I would surely have believed that being kissed, open mouthed with lips squirming by a man I hardly knew would have shocked me; it didn’t.

On top of that, when I got home and Richard asked I had a nice time with the ‘girls from the office,’ I felt hardly any guilt and no remorse. And when he fucked me later I loved it and loved him even more than usual. Contradictions I know, but that’s what cheating is all about.

The next week one of the girls from the office was having birthday drinks and a dinner.

It was after the dinner that he suggested we go back to the office, ‘for a nightcap.’ He was quite senior and had his own keys. It was in his office, on the green, leather Chesterfield that he undid a button or two on my blouse and slid his hand inside and soon after eased my tits out of my bra, pinched my nipples and stroked the smooth flesh of my breast.

“God I so want you,” he whispered, gently squeezing my breast.

I had already let my hand fall onto his thigh. I slid it up until the side of it pressed against his bulge. I ran my hand further upwards and felt the outline of his erection through the thin wool of his trousers.

Although little of what had gone on with Kendal had surprised me so far, the words I heard myself saying in reply did.

“Not here though, not now.”

“Where then and when?”

“A hotel perhaps?”

“Yes. That would be perfect,” he breathed. “When Christina, when could we do that?”

“Up to you really Kendall, you’re the one with the busy diary.”

“You mean an afternoon I take it.”

I smiled at him as I replied.

“Afternoon, evening, both?”

Kendal pulled his iPhone from his pocket and said.

“I know this sound a bit hasty, but how about the day after tomorrow, Thursday?”

Feeling remarkably unfazed by it I smiled. “That would be fine Kendal,” I said, as I shrugged my tits back into my bra.

That had been the start. The beginning of my new life. Lunch in a West End hotel restaurant, the lift up to the room Kendal had booked and sex for the rest of the afternoon. I was home by six, which was well before Richard got back so I did not even have to make an excuse.

Again oddly, I felt no guilt, well not much. I was able, almost, to put my affair with Kendall out of my mind. I had that knack of only feeling the need to think about a situation or a problem when it was absolutely necessary. So Kendall and I only really came into my mind when we were, or were about to be, together.

I always find hotels sexy. Even if alone or with my husband they have something about them and some of Richard’s and my best sex has been in hotels. The idea of checking in one just for an afternoon and evening of sex with a lover was a massive turn on for me.

I had been a little nervous getting ready for the big date. Choosing what to wear to be undressed in had not been a concern for such a long time; Richard rarely undressed me nowadays! Luckily the weather was quite warm and my legs were still tanned büyükçekmece escort from our recent holiday in Italy, so I did not have to confront the tights or stockings issue.

It was quite a posh hotel so I decided to wear a smart, pale pink silk blouse and a white pencil skirt with a white, cashmere cardigan that I wore draped over my shoulders. My problem, I realised, the day before the liaison, was underwear. As a long married woman who did not play around and only had sex with my husband in our marital bed, I had little need for sexy underwear. Although I knew that Kendal would need little encouragement and certainly no seducing, I felt that as a lover, I should be appropriately attired, and that meant sexy lingerie. Luckily I had time to pop to a shopping centre just a few miles down the road and had a surprisingly exciting time selecting a couple of bra and panty sets. It was more the thought that I was selecting underwear that a man with whom I was cheating and who would most likely take off my body that made for most of the excitement. Although the fact that I was buying lingerie purposefully to impress and titillate another man than my husband and that that man would then fuck me, did add to my tingling arousal as the girl in the shop wrapped them up for me.

The whole day was a completely new experience and a major arousal for me. From getting up in the morning with the thought. ‘Today I am going to commit adultery,’ to going to bed with Richard knowing that I had, twice done just that during this amazing day. Getting ready, slipping into my especially purchased new knickers and bra, painting my finger and toenails and trimming my pubes, were all, for a change, thrilling actions. I applied just the lightest of make ups and hardly any perfume excited as, I thought to myself, ‘I’m already thinking like a mistress.’

I was nervous all the way on the tube to the Mayfair area of Central London. I was even more so as I walked into the five star hotel desperately looking for directions to the bar that Kendal had said was off to the left from the reception.

There was a strain between us after he had kissed me on the cheek and as we had a drink at the bar and looked at the menus; we were both tense and anxious.

As I learned later it was almost as new an experience for him as it was for me. He was not a serial adulterer, just a typical man that likes a bit on the side now and then and how many of them can look the relative gift horse in the mouth that in some ways I suppose, I represented? But then on the other hand so did he. What was the difference I debated on the trin into London between what he was doing and my position?

The meal, though lovely and horrendously expensive, hardly registered with me or, him I thought. We talked a lot, but said nothing and certainly wouldn’t have given an eavesdropper any indication of why we were there and what they were shortly going to do. The second bottle of Chablis, between the main course and dessert was the ice breaker. That relaxed us a bit and prompted Kendal to slide his hand across the table and rest it on the back of mine.

“Nice meal Christina?”

“Lovely thanks, my lamb was great.”

“You are sure about this aren’t you?” he asked considerately as he held my hand.

“Yes Kendal, yes I am, it’s fine,” I replied, hesitantly, but then adding as we looked into each other’s eyes. “How about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure about this?”

He held my hand and said. “Yes Christina. Yes I am sure.”

“And Beth?” I asked mentioning his wife who I had not met, but would in a few weeks at the corporate party.

Smiling he said. “Well I have not asked her, but I am pretty sure she would be fine.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said smiling.

As we walked to the lifts I, certainly and Kendal I suspected were anything but sure. çatalca escort I had doubts and concerns, I felt guilty, in the wrong and disloyal to Richard just as I think Kendal did to Beth. So what was driving us? What was it that made us seek out sex outside our marriages, why were we being unfaithful and just what was it that drove us down this road of having an affair? I know more had the answer to that than I did for the meaning of life. It was just what some men and women do, what they felt the need to do and how they gained something missing in their lives. What that was for me, though, I had no idea, perhaps I had a rogue gene?

In the lift up to the tenth floor Kendal kissed me and caressed my breast. I liked him doing that.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment you walked into the bar,” he muttered as we left the lift and walked down the corridor to their room.

Later, when looking back on breaking my marriage vows, I concluded that it wasn’t actually the sex with Kendal that was the prime excitement. It was the buzz I got. The buzz from doing something I probably, no certainly, should not have done. From being almost anonymous; I was not Christina the wife, but Christina the lover. I was having illicit sex. It was not the sex itself that made me feel so good. It was of course having sex in a London hotel in the afternoon that made it so deliciously wanton and thrilling for me and as he told me later him as well.

That’s not to say of course that when we kissed in the bedroom and Kendal immediately cupped my breasts, quickly undid my blouse and then pulled me onto the king sized bed it didn’t excite me, for it did. Equally, when we rolled around on the bed fumbling his shirt off and removing my bra, it would be ridiculous to claim that I did not get aroused. Similarly when his hand went up my skirt rolling it up until it was bunched round my waist, making me so pleased that I had bought the sexy undies, I of course was thrilled.

When I was naked I found yet another oddity with this sort of affair. I was more excited at the fact that I was nude and that I had let a man other than my husband strip me, than I was by Kendal caressing my breasts, sucking my nipples or rubbing my clitoris. My first orgasm exploded over me when Kendal slid his fingers into me as I held and stroked his cock firstly outside, but then, as the sensations grew, inside his tight boxers.

It was a good orgasm, one that built up slowly, exploded suddenly and then subsided gradually as I clung to him pulling his cock from his pants.

He had a nice cock, I decided, even though I had little experience of others to base that on. It felt nice in my hands, it responded to my stroking and when he pressed it against my stomach, it sent tremors through me. There were even more tremors when Kendal slid between my legs that I willingly, enthusiastically even opened for him and even more when the tip of his erection snuggled up against my lips. I knew that just a slight surge of his hips would mean that I was cheating and committing adultery.

It was just as well he remembered, for I doubt that I would have even thought about him wearing a condom even though I was on the pill and I am sure that he was clean.

The actual fuck was fine. It was ok. It certainly wasn’t any worse than most I had with Richard, but then it also wasn’t much better. The main issue was that it was different. It was wrong, wanton, illicit, done in the afternoon in a hotel room and most significantly, it was another man doing it to me. And that made that fuck one of the most exciting and memorable I had ever experienced.

It was a remarkable feeling lying naked beside Richard just a few hours later after having had sex two times that afternoon. It was not the memories of Kendal shagging me from behind as I knelt naked in the middle of the bed, but more the feeling of empowerment and the sense of freedom I felt. Sure, I had gained substantial sexual pleasure from the afternoon, but that was more emotional than physical, I realised. The satisfaction was more between my ears than between my legs.

More to follow soon about neighbours, young men and casual flings. Watch out for them.

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