Hello, I Am The Other Woman [FM][Cheating]

Oh hey, nice to meet you, finally! Your hubby talks so much about you, it feels as if I’ve known you for ages already!

So, uh, anyway, I guess it’s probably good that I know more about you than you know about me, huh? I bet it’s better this way, I’m not sure if you would like me as much otherwise.

Does he talk about me at all? I hope he did, because this is gonna be awkward otherwise. You look so cute! Did anyone tell you today? I’m sure he did, and he probably kissed your neck on his way out the door, huh? I love when he does that, and it always makes me giggle when I tell him to give you a kiss from me.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing all this out of spite, or anger, or anything really. I wouldn’t do that to you. I knew from the beginning that I would like you, just from hearing him talk about you so affectionately. He really likes you, you know? And I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

I wouldn’t want him at the cost of losing you, you are perfect for him. 

I am not like you, and I know that. I am not the kind of girl that he comes home to, whom he married, who will carry his children one day. I couldn’t be any of that, and you can. You want to, and I know you’ll be perfect for it, and for him. They’ll call you mommy, and he will call you all kinds of cute words, and I won’t get in the way of all of that, or any of it.

No, I know that I smell like him sometimes, and he sometimes texts me cute little messages when you have already fallen asleep — but I know better than to interpret that the wrong way. 

I am the other woman, the one he visits when he needs a break, from work, from life, even from you. Or rather, he uses me when he needs to be a good husband for you, and feels like he can’t do it. 

He comes to me when he needs someone he can use in ways you wouldn’t let him, and would probably be afraid to know he even wants sometimes. He slaps me sometimes, did you know that? Not my butt, I mean, he slaps me in the face. Only when I give him reason to, of course, and only if I tease him that he wouldn’t dare. And I like doing that, because I like that look in his eyes when he gets over the other half of him that tells him to respect me, caress me, kiss me softly. 

I like that, too, when he feels like he has to make things up to me, and softly kisses my breasts. He is so cute when he gets like that, silently saying sorry for things I didn’t even take the wrong way. 

Because I love that, when he takes me the wrong way. I love it when he rips on my clothes rather than pulling them slowly, and I love when he doesn’t bother to undress me all the way. I love it when he bends me over my kitchen counter, makes me stare out of the window while he fucks me from behind. And I love it when he thinks he can just shove his thumb into my butt, and doesn’t even ask. It’s so rough when he gets careless, and I love that he trusts me enough to lose himself like that.

And all the other things he does to me, without ever really asking. When he texts me in a meeting to tell me he needs me now, and I have to make up some excuse to leave the room early. I love it when he takes me in the bathroom stall at work, when he shoves me against the wall in the storage room in the basement.

And most of all, I love it when he swings by my place, and when he brings some time. I normally don’t even ask what he tells you where he is, I just hope it was believable. 

I wouldn’t want you to know what he does with me when he’s in a rush — but I would want you even less to know how caring he gets on those days when he doesn’t have anywhere else to be. When he knocks on my door instead of using his key, when he hands me a bottle of wine and slowly gets me drunk. When he makes me awkward compliments while we sit on the couch, and when I have to play all my tricks to make it obvious to him that I am not opposed to his shy advances. 

I love it when he holds my hands, after I have touched his arm enough times to show him it’s okay to touch me back. I love it when he kisses my hands before he kisses my lips, and asks me if it’s okay for him to do so. 

I love it when he takes me to bed, carrying me, and explores my whole body first before he touches me anywhere I really want him to. And the best thing is how he always makes it feel like he has never done any of this before. He seems so excited to feel my chin, kiss my stomach, kiss me on the thighs. 

He is so good at dragging my pants down slowly, undressing me with his eyes long before his fingers do it for him. And how he takes me in his arm, cuddling side by side, how I get so lost in his embrace that I barely even notice when his left hand spreads my legs apart. He glides into me so effortlessly, so caring, and I can never get enough of it. 

But luckily, I don’t have to, because he will make sure that I am always one step ahead of him, and he is always ready to call it quits if I asked him to. He is so accommodating of my needs and wishes, and my hesitation is enough to give him pause. 

At least it is until the first time that I came, until I no longer have the strength in me to complain. It’s that moment he waits for, before the look in his eyes changes, and he thrusts his hips forward, to test me more than to please me. 

Can you take it? his eyes will ask, but he doesn’t wait for mine to respond. 

He takes me, pulls me closer, whispers things into my ear that should not sound as good as they do. And I will follow his guidance, allow myself to get lost in his arms, while he loses himself in me. It’s those moments when I get to see him for what he is, that I allow myself to fall in love with him. 

Just for a moment, sure, just until his eyes go back to normal, and his movements slow again. Just after he has pumped his seed into me, not even bothering to ask, just after he claimed me as his property. And sure enough, I am and will be, for as long as he treats me so wrong and right.

Because that’s what he is, your husband, someone who can treat you all right, and me all wrong.

And that, my dear, is why I’m here today, and why we’re having coffee together. So that you can tell me of this other side of his, how he is when he holds himself back.

I am here to meet someone I could be friends with, if I wasn’t the other woman.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ztfa17/hello_i_am_the_other_woman_fmcheating