My affair with Katie that had been interrupted by her third pregnancy recommenced when she surprised me by going down on me in her van parked outside a crowded cafe in the middle of the afternoon — as her youngest child sat in his car seat right behind us. This was harlotry at its best, but not the sort of thing I wanted to repeat with the son around. You can read the details in my last post.
So Katie and I were off to the races again, and began meeting in our usual hotel and my office when we were both able. Or so I thought. I soon found out — actually she told me — that she was hooking up with other men, even on days when I wanted to get with her again.
I need to say something about my mental state at this time. This was 2009, and the Great Recession was well underway. We had also had a change in leadership at work and the new guy made all kinds of bad decisions that put the Texas office at risk. Other offices had already been shut down, and we were tottering on the brink. I was deeply concerned about my financial future.
So when Katie casually wrote me that she had met another man on craigslist who was going to take her to swingers clubs and to his own bed (again) and to who knows where else, about the same way she might have written Oh I went to the grocery store today and they were out of tomatoes, I took it even worse than I otherwise might have. I knew that she sometimes played with others but I assumed I was her only regular outside lover, as she was for me. That’s what I had been looking for when I placed my craigslist ad that she had responded to a couple of years earlier, and that’s what I thought I had found. I couldn’t find time to fool around with others besides her and work my job and do the family thing too …. how could she?
We had some difficult conversations via email over the next few days. She told she was not looking to replace me but could not play only with me; she needed ‘more than one place to stand’ or she would ‘lose her footing and fall.’ I said, But if you go looking for others you might find someone you like better than me, and she said, Yes, that’s right, I might. I was stunned. She added that I was wrong to see her as a good person; she was not a good person and could not be relied on for anything. I pushed back, reminding her of her community service and motherly qualities and superior writing and overall sweetness. My words did not seem to register. But she was genuinely sorry to see me suffer, with my job on the line and all, so agreed to meet me the next Monday morning.
She came to my house — a good 40 minutes’ drive from her place — after our spouses had gone to work and her kids were off at school or with a sitter. I will never forget how she looked standing on the front porch when I opened the door. Blonde hair zig-zag around her face and a look of half-surprise, nipples poking through the loose fitting flowery dress. She pushed her way inside, hands wrapping around my back, kissing me. My hand darted between her legs as we half stumbled into the small guest bedroom; she was not wearing underwear and was oh so wet. I dragged her down on the bed on top of me and pulled the top of her dress down to her waist and somehow — by her hand or mine? the bottom of her dress came up, exposing her sex. My clothes came off, and she rode me, the way I like it, those tits in my face (again!), my hands on her ass no her tits no her ass, my fingers in her mouth so she could suck them, then my cock in her mouth so she could suck it, then she was on her back so I could her eat her the way she liked to be eaten and then fuck her missionary style. It as in this moment, me on top of her firmly in control, that I told her, Katie, you are such a good girl, you are! You are good! Confess your goodness! Confess! Confess! And she started crying, tears running down her cheeks as I continued fucking her. She came and I came and we both came and she cried. I don’t have the words to describe how I felt in that moment.
We pulled ourselves together. I thanked her, walked her to the door, and she disappeared into the rest of her day. She continued to carry on with others but spared me the details; I had decided I did not want to know them. She found less time for me. She wrote, Why can’t we meet each other when we both want and are able? She even offered to help me find other women, and write ads for me to post on craigslist — like letters of reference. But she was not trying to end it with me, believe me. She wrote me every day, still, and was flirty and sweet as always. You are an amazing lover, she told me, not for the first time. And we did meet from time to time, in that hotel, or my office. But it ate at me, not knowing when I might be able to see her again, wondering who she might be with, the risks she might be exposing herself to. After a time I simply didn’t feel up to it any more. So I sent her a carefully worded email explaining that our erotic dalliances had to stop, for my sake
She seemed surprised but was good about it. We emailed each other still, but as friends, sharing little stories from our daily lives. She even agreed to meet me over coffee — the only time we did that and behaved like normal human beings — and handed me a tee-shirt from that annual fundraising event she organized each year, the one benefiting special-needs children. I kept it for a couple of years, only wearing it on bike rides, before I decided to give it to Goodwill.
And so it went for a time. But soon Katie’s email turns flirtatious again. She teased me with little images of lego-like figures in comprising positions, the female figure bent over with the male figure right behind her, like that. And I was climbing-the-walls horny. I did find another married woman I met a few times — that confession is coming soon — but I craved Katie. So I had a talk with myself and wrote her that I wanted to see her again, yes like that; I wanted to fuck her again. I was willing to accept her as a mere fuck buddy, with no expectations, just taking what I could get. She did not refuse.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/id8t32/i_m_fuck_milf_f_katie_to_tears_break_it_off_and