When I was 20, I used to do a lot of freelance work for this guy’s company. He was in his late thirties and so was his wife. You reminded me a little of her. She would have been slightly shorter and very likely a little bigger than you are. Because of the work I did, I ended up getting to know his wife fairly well. Often, she made very vague remarks that I assumed were about the state of her marriage, but nothing concrete.
Then one morning, I accidentally overheard his wife talking to her friend on the phone. She was bitching about how she hadn’t been fucked in over six years. When she realized I was right there, things between us became immediately awkward.
A few months later, I was attending one of the company’s parties, more as staff than anything else. I was mostly there to help up when needed. The owner of the company wanted me to meet a few people, that was the only other thing.
At one point in the course of the party, his wife — who was hosting, essentially — asked me for a hand carrying something back to the lobby (where everyone else was). So, I went with her. We went down to the underground parking lot, then started loading everything off of the truck. When we finished, his wife asked me for a cigarette. I didn’t think she smoked. In fact, I was 99.9% sure she didn’t. But I gave her one.
She started talking about the phone call I’d over heard and apologized for it again, sheepishly looking down at her feet. She said she enjoyed my company and she didn’t want it to ruin anything. I told her she was being extreme and that it was none of my business. Then, she asked me if would listen to her rant. She said she just needed someone to talk to.
I asked if that was why she requested me to come down here with her, so that she could have this chance to talk about how she felt. His wife nodded and said yes. Then I told her I didn’t think that was exactly true. Six years of no fucking, the last thing you want to do is talk about not fucking. When she started to look guilty, her pale cheeks flushing red, I took a step toward her and slowly reached down for the brim of her long skirt. I lifted it up, found the edge of the fabric of her panties, then silently pulled them aside.
I took another step toward her, as my fingers eased inside of her already leaking cunt. We were face to face now. She tried to kiss me and I stopped her. I reminded her that wasn’t what she needed. I used my free hand to hold her chin, then finger fucked her up against the side of the truck, until droplets of wetness fell from my hand and splashed the cement below. His wife begged me to fuck her, but I didn’t. I made her cum, then while tasting her submission on my fingers, I told her she’d have to wait before I fucked her.
I told her two months. She’d have to see me in her house every day, but she wasn’t allowed to speak about this to me. I wanted her to masturbate to this every night, while laying alone beside her sleeping husband. I wanted her to think, maybe, it’d all been some sweet dream. And after those two months were up, I’d make a move on her when the time was right…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/88uxa9/waiting_a_little_longer_mf_cheating_lengthy