(Part 1 and Part 2 are available [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/9nek5d/the_former_trophy_wife_fm_cheating/) and [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/brgggy/the_former_trophy_wife_part_2_fm_cheating/) respectively)
If there had been any doubt of my infidelity and what it was, it was answered fully a few days after our time in the shed.
Chris and I had spent a little time talking relatively innocently, certainly compared to what we’d just done, after we’d finished. My limited amount of clothing was back on my body, as well as a smile on my face. I say relatively innocent, because the conversation was making plans for more.
“I’m free Friday, if you are?” he asked with a wry grin because he knew full well how busy I was in my life as a full-time mother who had little mothering to actually do while my son was at school. The date was set quickly – I’d follow him back to his after dropping the kids off and we’d spend the day together.
There was no need to say what we’d be doing.
Unlike the first two times of intimacy, this time I could prepare for him. I found out lingerie and a dress I’d not worn in years, woke early to put on a tasteful amount of makeup, and felt giddy and alive as I drove Jake to school.
Even Chris had made an effort. He’d had a haircut, his beard was neatly trimmed and I could smell a moderately expensive aftershave on him as we stood close with our arms just lightly touching as we waved our children goodbye.
The drive to his feels like an age such was my anticipation. To finally have alone time with him, to finally be able to cry out his name as he fucks me, was something I badly needed to be able to do.
His home is nothing compared to my own. Sat in the middle of a busy street, the car I’m driving is perhaps worth more than the rest of the other cars on the street combined. And his house is tiny in comparison too. Not that it bothered me in the slightest – I’d come from a lower middle-class family and this area was not so different from where I’d grown up.
There was little to say about his home, simply because I didn’t care for any of it. All I cared about was how good Chris felt as he pushed me against the wall the moment the door was shut behind us. We kissed fiercely, hands all over one another, fingers sliding under clothes in a desperate need to touch each other’s bodies.
For all the effort I’d made my clothes were soon off, and between us we created little stepping stones from his front door to his bedroom. There was no need for foreplay, not with how we were both feeling.
I couldn’t pretend this was a one off anymore. Not after that day of incredible, mind-blowing sex. Every touch from him along my naked body was electric, feeding me to fuck him with an energy I didn’t realise I had anymore. The day followed a similar routine throughout – we’d fuck, we’d talk and rest and cuddle, and then we’d fuck again. Each time it would be a little different, both of us keen to try new positions as well as finally getting to taste one another.
I knew I wanted more, regardless of the risks. Like a flower hidden from the sun for too long, I craved it now it was in my life again. I was a renewed mother and housewife, even if I wasn’t particularly close to Joel still. Not that he noticed really, and that suited me well enough.
There was only one man’s hands I wanted on me now.
The problem was getting that time. Regardless of how free with my time I was, Chris did have a job to do. And he couldn’t just not work just because – his daughter needed a roof over her head and despite my desperate lust for him, I could at least understand.
As it was I didn’t have to wait long anyway.
Two weeks after our day together, just before the school broke up for holidays, there was a parent’s evening at the school. It was only when I was preparing for heading out when the thought occurred that Chris would be at the same evening. All alone.
The thought certainly changed my opinion on what to wear. Suddenly the figure hugging jeans and woolen jumper weren’t anywhere near convenient enough. Instead it was boots, a knee-length denim skirt, black boots and a top with a plunging neckline. And no panties – they would only get in the way.
Unfortunately, my appearance didn’t go unnoticed by my husband.
“Like that?” he said, looking up from his laptop as I was about to leave the house, eyes judging me over his glasses. “You’re going out like that?”
“Like what?” I demand.
“Like a whore.”
I laugh softly. “You think a whore dresses this well? There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing. If it’s that much of a problem, you go!”
That shuts him up – Joel turns back to his laptop and mutters something under his breath and I quickly leave – apparently my time with Chris has given me something of a backbone again, one I can’t ever remember having before with my husband.
It wasn’t like he was far wrong. Despite my own self-esteem issues, the time with Chris had awoken in me the fact I wasn’t entirely past my sell by date. There were plenty of lingering looks from teachers and parents, and disapproving glances from some of the mum’s from the school run.
There was only one person whose attention I wanted though.
When Chris finally sees me his eyes widen. And then a knowing smile grows on his lips before he turns away to continue to speak with a teacher. Playing it cool, apparently. A game I’m happy to play.
Pulling my phone out of my purse, I quickly send a text.
“Very coy. Maybe I’ll see you in class 6b?”
With the message sent, I make my excuses and leave the hall where the parents and teachers are talking and make my way through the empty corridors of the school. It’s a risk, but the risk is what makes it all the more enticing to me. That and I’ve waited long enough to be with Chris again.
Class 6b is at the far side of the small school. I don’t turn the light on as I enter, preferring the streetlights filtering through the windows. I move to the large wooden desk used by the teacher and perch on it, facing the open door of the classroom and waiting for Chris to hopefully arrive.
In the few minutes that follow I feel some doubt about what I’m doing. It is one thing to have done what we’ve done already, but to fuck inside a school where anyone could see us? It was too dangerous, surely.
Those feelings of danger though are amplified in the best possible way when I start to hear the echo of footsteps in the hall outside, slowly getting louder and louder. Each step seems to quicken my heart in my chest, and I feel the urge to rush out to Chris and drag him into the room. Instead I stay put, wanting to appear cool as he always seems.
When he peeks his head into the room, I have a small smile across my face.
“Well hello,” he says, stepping into the classroom with his eyes only on me. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Fancy that,” I purr back, not leaving my perch at the edge of the desk and watching him shut the door silently behind him. When he turns back I notice the obvious bulge in his jeans. It makes me want him all the more.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come” I say, eyes dragging from his manhood to his face as he takes the few steps from the door to the desk. To me.
“Oh I’m going to come,” he growls, taking me into his arms. “And so are you.”
The kiss is every bit as passionate as intense as I thought it would be as I waited for more with Chris. The session in his bedroom hadn’t satiated any of the desire for him. If anything it was the opposite – that day had only added fuel to the now raging fire within me. And I need to feel how only he can make me feel.
I moan into the kiss and push my body against his, my hand tangled into his short hair as I drag him down onto the desk. His rough hands are on my exposed legs, dragging upwards and pushing my denim skirt past my thighs
Chris leans up from me, panting wildly like an animal as he lowers his zipper and quickly pulls out his hard shaft. I part my legs wider, knowing we don’t really have time for any foreplay and not really needing it anyway. The risk, the naughtiness of doing it here on a school desk, is enough to get me going like a teen.
Our eyes meet briefly and he gives me a wicked grin as he yanks me to the edge of the desk, the thickness of his cock pressed against my sex. I bite my lower lip and rock my hips slightly, desperate to feel complete again.
“Want it?” he growls, and I mewl in response, a noise that turns into a groan of longing as he drags a hand up my top before gripping a breast through my shirt.
“No,” I pant. “I need it. Need you. So much.”
They are strangled words that only catch in my throat the moment he slams himself into me. I muffle a cry and slap a hand to his backside, wishing it was his bare muscular behind in my hand rather than that of his jeans. Chris takes the hint though, and he takes me with deep, animalistic thrusts that creak the desk beneath us.
He leans down, one large hand cupping my skull and pressing my head into his chest. This close I can hear the grunts of exertion each time he drives into me and the promise I made to not make any sound becomes lost – I let out a low, long moan of longing for my lover and slide a hand under his shirt to feel his back muscles work under his skin.
In return, Chris pushes his free hand between our bodies and pushes my own top up, along with a single cup of my black bra, to take hold of a full breast. From my time with him just the other day I know how much he adores my breasts, even if they sag a little now and bear the scars of breastfeeding. Even in that moment he shows his adoration, dipping his mouth to take hard nipple between his lips and suck hard.
I groan out in response, rolling my hips against the distracted movements of his own. Chris leans up once more, strong hands on my hips under where my skirt is hitched up uncomfortably against thick thighs…
And he fucks me.
He fucks me with scant regard for anything other than our mutual enjoyment of being together. Both my tits bounce freely, Chris having released the other and making sure my shirt and bra were pushed up and out of the way of his view. When my eyes aren’t rolling back under my lids I can see him taking me all in, enjoying every last inch of my body.
Getting close, I pull myself up and wrap myself around his strong torso. Chris lifts me from the table and then presses me against the wall, and I’m barely conscious of the posters that press against my bare back, pictures of pets or grandparents or whatever – none of that was important. All that was important was release.
His. Mine.
“Cum,” he hisses into my ear, and the demand and the sensation of my nub dragging along his pelvis, is enough to set me off. I hold on tight and moan into his shoulder, smelling the fragrance of the outdoors on his shirt just as he pumps ropes of his seed into me. I grind down onto him and get rewarded with the sound of his satisfied grunts.
We hold each other in our post-coital embrace for as long as we can until he eventually sets me down and we quickly rearrange what clothes are out of place. The smile on my face can’t be rearranged though. “Satisfied?” Chris asks me, pulling me into a hug and slowly kissing me. I murmur a soft noise of agreement before stepping back.
“Always,” I say, taking his hand and linking my fingers with his. “I don’t think I’ll get bored of how you look at me.”
There’s a pause and then his handsome face turns to the side slightly, looking at me with curious eyes.
“Then don’t. Move in with me.”
My first reaction is to laugh. Then when he doesn’t laugh with me I look at him seriously. Surely he’s not just suggested that?
“Chris,” I whisper. “It’s not that simple. You know it isn’t. Dale… he needs a settled home. A loving home.”
“Loving,” he snorts, his hand slipping from mine. “What’s loving about it? Joel doesn’t give a shit about either of you.”
“And you do?” I snap back.
“I bet I give ten times more of a shit than he does about you.”
“Yeah?” I growl. “Because you care? Or because we keep fucking one another?”
I immediately want my words back the moment I see the hurt in his eyes. This, whatever this was, means something to him. Chris did care, and he probably cared more for Dale than Joel did. Still, it didn’t mean that leaving was something at all possible – I still needed that security.
With a shake of his head, my lover slips past me and out of the door. I call to him once but don’t move, hearing his heavy footsteps fading down the hall. A door opens, then closes, and all I’m left with is the feeling of his cum trailing down my bare leg. Even then I’m oblivious to it.
Just like I’d been oblivious to the eyes watching me and Chris fuck.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dkq4ol/the_former_trophy_wife_part_3_fm_cheating_risky