Steps to infidelity [M/F]

*A pretty little flower, hidden from most, raised to follow after, always an afterthought*.

A lady of character one would think at first sight. One from a bygone era of stay at home housewives and decorum. A spouse that is the envy of husbands and inspires petty jealousies among the wives. But… You have a secret, don’t you?

It starts with mild flirting, perhaps caught behind a long checkout line while you were doing your daily grocery shopping. Perhaps it was a clothing store where you bumped into him buying something for your spouse. Something small, something that was special to you two. And so you repeated it. It was after all pure flirtation, nothing more. You were a devoted wife and nothing would make you stray from your marriage…

He was handsome and a mystery, you were lonely and long past the days where you encountered mysteries. Unlike most other men who had hit on you post marriage he was different, for the simple fact, he didn’t. He treated you like a human, not a video game character whose heart he could win with a few code words. So you let your guard down.

He told you about his work in his studies. The struggles of his life and the pains of being alone to face them. You listened, and you advised. And he was forever grateful. He made you laugh and he made you think. Treating you as an individual with your own thoughts not just parroting your husbands. And above all, he valued your words. So the chat’s continued, the brief meetings became long text chains. Which in turn became planned meetups. A date at a coffee shop. An invitation to the bookstore so you could expand his mind with your favorite literary works. Step by step that man encroached on your heart, in a space that only your spouse should have tread.

So perhaps he wasn’t quite the gentleman you had once thought. You’ve caught glimpses into his life as he had into yours. And while you had nothing to hide, obviously, you are after all a devoted wife, he did. Anger that he kept under control but always simmering. He did not go and berate waitstaff, but you had seen his anger directed at conmen and other men who paid attention to you. Looking back maybe this was a red flag but back then. Bug when you had just been annoyed for a good half hour by some young ‘casanovas’ whilst waiting for him, you had thought that anger… Righteous. Passionate. It made you feel like the woman you were in your teens with the world out in front of you yet protected by its evils.

It did not help that the physical attraction you held for him was palpable. Never having seen him in less than a tailor-made suit. Fitted around a body that you just knew was muscular. And every time he held your hands you could feel how safe he made you. His broad chest and height giving credence to his maturity, as much as his patience and insight. His eyes, how they sparkle. That smile that melts your daily worries away. Shoulders who sometimes seem made for you to rest your head against. Oh, the list is endless and ever-growing.

Pretty soon those dates became events to expand your mind. An ‘accidental’ meeting at a poetry recitation.. the topic ‘The pleasures of bondage flesh’. A date at a concert where he encouraged you to lower your inhibitions and let the inner you free…

Standing next to him with your top off exposing your breasts for the band up on stage. Feeling as foolish and alive as the 20-year-olds around you. His hand supporting you all the while, giving you comfort and security with small caresses of your back. Looking over your shoulder you see him give you a wry grin. And a kiss. Your first kiss. Naked breasts pressed up against his masculine chest, your hands letting go of the top and instead twines around his neck pulling him down into you. Lips attacking each other while the world around them stopped. Sounds, sights, smells, tastes. At that moment captured in time, all of your senses were occupied by him. And then you made the drunken realization… You’ve never felt this way about your husband. Not in years past at the least. The kiss breaks, it’s you who breaks it. There he stands, a vision of masculinity and even he cannot help panting a bit after that kiss, his cheeks flushed. The hand holding your’s trembling… “Did you do that to him?” You think between pants of your own.

Drunk and feeling at the top of the world you made a stupid mistake. But now you are about to commit a much graver one. You texted your husband you were going to stay with your friends. A lie, but not completely. How long has it been since you’ve considered your husband a friend? And recently, not even a lover. All the while he held your hand in silent support. Squeezing it while you hemmed and hawed at what to write. Kissing your fingertips whenever you hesitate and shooting you a smoldering glance. You know that you will regret it if you never take this chance…

And when he took you to his home. He carried you up the stairs himself draped on his arms like how your husband had once held you many years ago.

So loving. You felt so safe. You felt like a much younger you, someone who was losing her virginity all over again. Hands gripping his shoulders a sob, or was it a moan, escapes you. You don’t know and you don’t care. Simply trusting the man who had stolen your heart to take care of you.

Once inside it’s a frenzy of activity. Clothes torn off, ripped, flesh bitten and scratched as both of you rush to disrobe yourselves and each other. Until, ultimately, you both stand panting. Looking at each other’s naked bodies for the first time. Small red bruises on each other’s flesh visible even in the dim light.

​

*SLAM*

​

The hand that pins your neck to the wall could not be the same hand that had so loving held yours in the car, could it? For once he got his bearings you barely have time to register his actions before he’s thrust you up against a wall, a finger teasing your lower body and a savage grin on his face. The groan that escapes his lips is one you’ve never heard before as if a dehydrated man saw a cup of water just out of reach. Coinciding with that long finger of his running the length of your pussy.

“Pet, is this all for me?” He asks whilst trying to gather his emotions back under control. “Waxed, and smooth almost as if my pet wanted to show me.” The finger pressing down between your lips. Your pussy accepting it without much prompting, the slippery wetness leaking out of you quite enough lubrication for this current activity. Blushing and feeling unusually drunk you can hardly muster a response to his questions yet the smile that creeps out onto your face tells 1000 words. “But where are my manners pet, I can hardly take part in this meal without the proper procedure…” He continues while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. The kisses chaste, the tongue that flits in randomly… not so much. Like the finger that is now exploring inside your trenches. His palm rubbing against your most sensitive organ even as his dextrous finger teaches your sex to be prepared for something that’s yet to come.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/kglpvz/steps_to_infidelity_mf