I cheated on my husband [F]or the [F]irst time yesterday, with a woman I met at a New Year’s Eve party

For the last few years, while I have outwardly appeared as a boring, hard-working professional mother and wife, I have actually been wrestling with a late-appearing and at times overwhelming attraction to other women. I have mostly worked this out myself, so to speak. I haven’t told anyone about it. I haven’t dared to explore something happening for real. I’ve just been having my own little psycho-sexual drama and I thought it would be a phase that would pass.

This changed last night.

We spent Christmas with my husband’s family. My father in law got tickets for a sporting event and invited my husband and son and they wanted to go. I had to come home for work meetings, so we said a cheery goodbye at the train station yesterday morning. My meeting was prompt and I was left, suddenly aware that I was on my own on New Year’s Eve. I had assumed it would be a quiet evening at home with my husband. I wouldn’t say no to a quiet evening at home with myself, but a colleague encouraged me to come out to her party. She insisted so firmly that I felt I had to go. So, last night, before 10pm, I showed up at her house with two bottles of wine, wearing a long shirt dress with a belt, and a little make up on. No baby to worry about, encouraging text messages from my husband to enjoy myself, I was ready for a fun evening.

The party had clearly been going on a long while by the time I arrived.

The kitchen was full of men knocking back whisky. I could hear the noise of kids playing upstairs. The women mostly had colonised the living room. I only knew my colleague, who is a bit older than me, but she introduced me to everyone. They ranged in age from about 20 to about 45 and they were all lovely and warm. I soon relaxed into the groove of the conversations and found myself really enjoying myself. I was sitting beside a woman called Lucy who had long dark hair, cheekbones to die for, and who was wearing this stunning ruby dress which emphasised her curves. I have already confessed how I have been internally obsessed with attraction to women for the last two years or so and I found Lucy captivating.

Her partner, Craig, was a loud Scottish man who was engaging everyone in a very confident manner about Brexit, each time I went into the kitchen. I did not find him captivating. Midnight came around and Craig David’s awful show on BBC 1 was turned on and everyone gave each other hugs and kisses and I felt Lucy’s hand on my hip when she leaned in to embrace me. Her hand was warm and I felt like it lingered longer than social norms required. But I had had quite a few Old Fashioneds by then, so how could I know.

Even though we had said goodbye to an old decade, there was no sign of the party flagging. I kept drinking. Lucy kept finding her way back to me, or I to her. She told me I had lovely legs. I blushed so hard, she made fun of me. She didn’t know that made me wet. As has always been the case, I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew I _wanted_.

Some time after 2, I felt my energy dip. I had impressed myself by lasting that long. I usually am asleep by about 10pm. Then again, I am usually anticipating being woken at about 6am by a little boy. I finally had begun to make a move to go home when Craig came in an unceremoniously announced that he was ready to go home. It felt awkward for a moment; Lucy was visibly put out. I had the first concrete sense that she was as unimpressed by his confidence as I was. In the putting on coats and thanking the host and all the other tasks that precede departing, we realised that we lived in the same area. Lucy proposed we shared a taxi. Craig didn’t wait for me to confirm. He ordered a cab for three and I found myself whisked into the back of a car with a drunk man who appeared to believe himself the world expert on British parliametary politics (at 3am on New Year’s Eve – let it go, man!) and this girl I was crushing on appallingly.

On the drive across the city, Craig stopped talking for a moment and was soon asleep. Lucy and I shared a precious few minutes more of witty banter before we arrived at their house. With him unconscious and much bigger than us, I somehow found myself bearing half his load up their driveway. Once we had deposited him on their bed, Lucy turned and said, “Well now I have to insist you take a nightcap as payment for services rendered.” I felt my cheeks redden again, and did not resist.

I’m 5’6 and Lucy is taller than me. She has olive skin contrasting my pale skin. Her hair is jet black, whereas I have forgettable brown locks. She is different from me in every way. Walking behind her, down the stairs, I had a chance to really appreciate her. I realised that my hunger, the _want_ I had been feeling, was truly carnal. I wanted to savour every inch of her body. I wanted her to want to own and devour me.

She wanted to know what I wanted to drink. We settled on tequila. We started at her kitchen counter and moved to her living room sofa. She asked me about my marriage. She told me about her relationship. We continued to make each other laugh. At one point, things went quiet, and she quietly asked, “Are you happy?” I brushed the question away, “Of course I am! Great job, beautiful son, good marriage.” She asked again, “But are you happy?” I felt suddenly defensive. “What do you mean?” I asked, a strident touch entering my tone. “I mean, are you happy; do you have what you want?” I blushed. My tongue felt heavy. My brain couldn’t work towards a sentence. She reached out across the small divide between us and put her hand just above my knee and said, “You can have what you want.”

I was pretty drunk and very tired, but I knew exactly what she meant and what she meant electrified me. There was no way to escape, but I was surprised that I did not want to flee at all. I had been properly horny for most of the evening, because of her. And now she was touching me and saying these things to me and it wasn’t that I was aroused. It was more like anticipation. Or exhiliration? I felt a thrill that was almost existential. There was no doubt in my mind.

“I want you”, I said, without hesitation. With a giant, gormless smile. And she smiled back, her eyes twinkling. I was about to ask, “So how do we do this?” when she leaned in and kissed me, gently first. But then her lips parted and I felt her tongue and then her weight on me as she pushed me back down on to the sofa. She was lying on top of me, positiong between my legs which were spread in a way that felt really relaxed. I could feel how wet I was, how primed I was, every touch was sensational and her weight on top of me was so exciting. I shifted and yielded in response to her movements and there was an almost effortless progression. Before I knew what was happening, the buttons of my dress were undone, my bra was off, and her glorious mouth was around my breasts. Then her fingers were between my legs. I could hear myself moaning, quietly, aware that her partner was upstairs, albeit in a drunken stupor. I could hear myself begging. But if I was debasing myself, I couldn’t care. All I wanted was more of her. I distinctly recall the coarse fabric of the sofa on my bare skin as she pulled my underwear away. Her tongue trailed my pubis and then with relief I doubt I have ever felt before, found my clit. I was breathing so heavily. I think I was already sweating. Lucy was cheesy in her compliments of my pussy. I felt like the most radiant being on the planet. Her hands slid under me as she pulled me into her mouth. I could feel her hair brush against my skin. Her warm, gentle tongue probed and tantalised me and I was a woman possessed. At one point, she pulled away and looked up at me. I had covered her face. I saw her swallow my juices and she moaned, holding that eye contact with me. I have never felt so at the mercy of another person. She went back to her task, at which she was obviously well trained, and my eyes had to close as my toes had to curl and the relentless rhythmic massage continued to push into the core of my being.

When the orgasm came, it was unlike anything I have ever felt. It was not prolonged, just intense. A furious, incandescent release was joined by a desperate cry as the wave of ecstasy enveloped me.

I came back to myself, with Lucy’s face resting between my legs, looking up at me with the satisfaction of a conqueror, an explorer. She had gone where no woman had gone before. Her skin was shiny with the evidence of my pleasure. Her makeup was smeared. She was the most beautiful vision I have yet set my eyes on. “Is that what you wanted?” she asked, with a laugh.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/eio6in/i_cheated_on_my_husband_for_the_first_time