My Brief Affair With a Colleague [FM][cheating]

I’ve had many, many women in my life but recently thoughts of Clare obsess me. I keep reliving my brief time with her all those years ago.

This all happened in 1975 or 76, I can’t remember exactly now. I was twenty-one at the time.

I landed a new job as a trainee manger in an electrical warehouse in one of the six Potteries towns, here in the U.K.. First day there I immediately noticed Clare. Just nineteen, she worked in accounts. Beautiful more than pretty; shoulder length chestnut hair, a hint of last years tan; large grey eyes ad wide mouth, strong nose. Barely five-one, I reckon a size ten. Nice arse and tits. A real tidy little package,

There was something about her that really piqued my interest, the way she looked me directly in the eye, the way she was so physically present in the world. Even though I thought her stunning, I judged her skirts way to short for the work place. I can’t blame her showing legs off, though: they were exceptional. I would try to catch a glimpse of them whenever I visited her office.

Dan, the warehouse foreman, noticed the way I looked at Clare when she brought order sheets down to the loading bay. We would both watch her walk back up to the office via a short run of wooden steps. When she’d gone he’d always give me a knowing wink. On my first day he’d told me she was married but not to let that put me off. She had a reputation with the younger drivers, he said. I didn’t believe him; she looked so young and fresh faced. I don’t know why I was surprised, though, teenage working class couples had jobs and money back then so could marry young. Perhaps I was surprised because she didn’t look like she could ever be someone’s wife.

When he told me she was married, I immediately went her office on some pretext, just to see if she was wearing a ring. I was gutted by the bunched gold, silver and stones on her finger: friendship, engagement, and wedding. Rings just like Carole, my girlfriend of the time, wanted from me. We’d got as far as friendship.

One day I’d gone up to accounts and was talking to Cath, the accounts office supervisor, but my mind was on Clare. I kept looking over at her wondering if she was wearing tights or not. I decided she was: sheer and very fine denier. She saw me gaping and smiled for me in this real smug way. Holding my gaze, she twirled her chair around to face me full on, while ostentatiously crossing her legs at the knee to show an expanse of under-thigh. Then she just sat there eyeing me while ever-so slightly rocking her chair lightly from side to side. Something passed between us as we looked at each other.

In the days that followed, whenever I went on a break she would come down to the small scullery to make hot drinks for the other girls. She would see me walk past the office window and quickly follow.

We were in the small staff kitchen and by now hHer signals were blatant. Even though I was seriously involved with Carol, I could not resist. I was standing by a work surface waiting for the kettle o boil when she came real close, her breast brushing my arm. I turned to face her and looked her in the eyes. The way she looked back at me told me all I needed to know. I reached for her, placing both my palms on her hips and drew her to me. My cock was already hard by the time I pressed myself against her.

“Is this what you’re after, Clare?” I said. I was expecting her to wriggle free, but she didn’t.

“I thought you’d never get the hint,” she said, a great wide sexy grin on her face beaming up at me.

And then up she went on her toes and we kissed. God! The way she pressed herself against me, her arms around me pulling herself on me. Her tongue voracious in my mouth; no messing, just shoved it past my lips and let it slide where it would. Even though we might have been interrupted at any moment, I put my hand up the back of her skirt and massaged her buttock cheeks though her tights, feeling the micro-mesh slide all over her silky panties. I was tempted to pull them down there and then but restrained myself. Any number of people could have walked in on us. And I certainly didn’t want to get in the bad books of my boss for uncouth behaviour. He was a stolid upright chap and would have gone ballistic to see his staff in such a wanton embrace.

Meeting up like that went on for maybe a week, the pair of us visiting the kitchen and bumping into each other as if by chance, me groping her like she might disappear in a puff of smoke. It was driving me mad to be snogging her and getting very little else other than a feel of her cunt contours through her tights and panties, or my hand on her breast over her blouse.

We had to do something.

I arranged to meet her at lunchtime. She said she would be walking to the shops and I could pick her up in my car as if I was just passing her by chance. Neither of us wanted anyone to know we were having a fling.

So that’s what I did. She slid into the passenger seat and I watched the hem of her skirt ride high to give a glimpse of a white panty-haze beneath sheer denier. I asked her if she wanted to drive up to the woods just out of town. She said no, said she had a better place. I was to take her back to her house.

She gave directions and I drove to her to street of terraced houses a few miles from where we worked. She told me to park a little way up the street from where she lived while she went to check her husband was not home. She said he sometimes came home for lunch, but said if he wasn’t there by now there was no chance he would come later. I told myself, never say never. It added to the feeling of subterfuge.

She went inside and a few moments later popped her head out the door and beckoned me. As soon as I was inside she took my hand and led through to the back living room. Straight away we were at each other. I was frantic to get her undressed. I was sick of feeling-her-up through her clothes. This was passion unhindered. Heated. Not a gentle seduction.

I remember her standing half undressed in that small, back room. It was March, the air chilly. The gas fire was on but had not yet warmed the room. Her top and skirt were gone. I noticed her well proportioned breasts still had that teen-uplift, but her nipples were large, stiffer from the cold air — or excitement. Her tights and panties were to her knees, prevented from falling further by her knee high sued boots.

All the same, she spread her legs as wide as her panties and tights allowed while I rubbed her between her cunt with the flat of my palm until she moaned out loud. Then I fingered with three fingers. She made sounds like she’d never been touched there before. The speed and degree of her arousal shocked me. Her breathing became frantic, her cunt all unctious. She gasped as she said she wanted to be fucked properly, repeated it over and in a breathy chant in my ear, but every time I tried to remove my fingers she held them in place, told me, “Just there.”

I prised myself from her. She was barely able to ask if I had condoms.

While I pulled them out of my jacket pocket, she took of her boots and removed the tangle of tights and panties. She lay on the sofa her with legs spread, displaying the raw gash of her sex. Her eyes watched every move I made while she gently touched herself.

I did not bother to take of my shirt or socks, just my jeans. My cock led the way and she took it in hand and guided me into her. She was so wet; I slipped into her with one easy thrust. In that first pushing into her velvet tightness I was overwhelmed by the actuality of her beauty and that she was giving herself to me so readily — and the we animal-fucked. Joined as one, we heaved and rolled. She captured my torso between her thighs, knees way back and her eels hard in the small of my back.

I did not last long. I could not contain it. When I felt the explosion building, I pushed deep and let my cock spasm its contents out. She seemed a little put out that I had cum already, but she was a beautiful young creature and any man would have found themselves as excited as me. At the age I am now, with all the dulling that age brings, I doubt I would last any longer now than I did then.

I said I would be ready to go again in ten minutes, but she said she had to be back at work . . . and so did I.

As we dressed, I asked her if she didn’t love her husband any more. Why else would she be doing this. She told me she loved her husband completely but they had an arrangement, could each take a lover for a week or so as long as it was all up front and out in the open. She said they had agreed to be honest with each other. She said she liked the look of me and had decided to have me.

I asked her if she told her husband about me. She said she wasn’t stupid, would not mention it while it was on-going, but might later.

She asked me about my girlfriend, Carole. I showed her a photo. She asked me what she would say if she knew I was cheating on her. I said I didn’t like to think. Clare said she though Carole was pretty and did I think she would like a threesome.

That really floored me. I could not believe anyone would just come out with something like that back then. The people I knew back then, up in the north of England, just did not say stuff like that. I managed to ask if she were serious. She said she would not say it if he weren’t. Back then such a scenario was not on even on my radar, had never crossed my mind once, ever. Even now I still try to imagine what Carole’s face would have looked like if I’d said, “There’s this girl from work wants us to let her join us in bed.” All these years later, I wish I had; Carole might have surprised me.

I agreed to call for Clare early the next day at eight-fifteen, half an hour after her husband left for work She answered the door as soon as I knocked, practically dragged me inside, said she didn’t want the neighbours to see me. She wore a full length, satin nightgown, cut low in a classic Grecian sort of way. It clung to her legs as she walked. She took my hand again and led me thought to the back room once more, which was warm and homely this time. The smell of earlier breakfast and coffee hung in the air..

Her buttocks soft and breathtakingly soft and curved beneath her gown. I held her to me while we kissed, savoured the material sliding here-and-there as my hand caressed lush cheeks. I gathered the fabric from her hips and took it up over her body, she breaking off our kiss to raise her arms high to allow the silky garment to slip over her head. Free of it, she shook her head allowing her hair to settle back into place, then brushing strands from her eyes. I held her naked flesh to me, relishing the moment. For me there is something piquant about holding a naked woman in my arms while I am still fully clothed, they acquire a degree of vulnerability they have at no other time.

Even then I knew this was a unique moment. I loved the way this beautiful young woman now pressed her whole body against mine, responding to my kissing with subtle bodily movements, fluid and sensual, almost ethereal. I thought of her loser of a husband and wondered what kind of idiot he must be to sanction his wife’s infidelity. What an arse!

I lowered my head and sucked each breast over and over, my mouth going from one to the other. My finger plied the crack of her arse and then rubbed her clit. I went on my knees licked the bush of her pubes as she stood there. Than up straight again to fill her mouth with my curled tongue.

My request that we go up to her bed but was brusquely refused. She said she would never betray Kevin like that — by taking another man into their marital bed.

So I had to make do with fucking her on the sofa again. I stripped off all my clothes this time, while she again waited for me, naked on the couch legs wide and arched, her fingers delving.

What can I say! It was sex. You Don’t need clichés or lies.

Again, we were pressed for time. She went upstairs to dress for work while I pulled on my own clothes and went to the downstairs bathroom to dispose of the condom. She appeared ten minutes later in her works clothes; blouse and cardigan; short skirt, tights and boots. I remember sitting and looking at her while she made a few final touches to her makeup in the mirror that hung over the mantelpiece, thinking how beautiful she was. I found myself admiring her no nonsense attitude to shagging. She had seen me and liked what she saw, and so had decided to have me.

I saw her three more times for sex. Before the last time, she told me it would be our last meeting, time to stop before we feeling were stirred. She thanked me for our moments together. But too late for me. by now I had begun to fall in love with her a little. If she had asked me I would have left Carole to be with her. I told her it couldn’t end just like that. She said it would have to, said she would see that it did.

Eventual I had to accept she no longer needed me as her fuck-buddy. I still remember the last time we made love. She had taken a few days holiday that were due to her. On one of the days I visited her at lunch time in her home. She knew I was coming and had dressed up special for me in a little black mini-dress and heels, as if going out for a night on the town. I undressed her slowly, like a precious gift.

As a parting gift — something special to remember me by, she said — she gave me blow job. This was something Carol rarely did for me. I remember Clare licking my cock in long passes. When she sensed my climax approaching she tried to dodge the bullet but had left it too late and ended up with cum in her hair. She stood up fast to look in the mirror over the fireplace, horror in her eyes. Near anger, “Oh fuck, I only just washed it.” Then suddenly she was laughing, falling back down to me and holding me with all her strength, forcing me to kiss her. I did: long and deep.

Afterwards we lay naked in front of the gas fire on the duvet she had spread on the floor for our lovemaking. For fifteen minutes we just lay there in each other’s arms. When it was time for me to get back to work she smiled a thank you smile and then kissed me. I thought of her husband, how he was the luckiest man alive to have a wife like her. But I was absolutely certain I would not be able to share her with anyone if she were my wife.

Soon after that, I was moved to another branch.

A year later I was out for the night with Carole when I saw Clare in a bar up town. She was wearing the same black dress she had worn for me the last time we made love. She was with her husband and another couple, the female of who was probably her sister. She had the same fetching, dark looks as Clare, but was perhaps two or three years older. Clare was laughing at some remark the other girl had made when she saw me from across the room. I caught her eye just as her face was completely animated by laughter. She looked so radiant, so alive. When she saw me she held my gaze and smiled the sweetest smile and then turned away.

I don’t know why I did it but I pointed Clare out to Carole, saying she was a girl who used to work at my old place.

“Which one is she?” she asked. “They look like sisters.”

“The younger one is Clare.”

“Her in the black dress?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going over to say hello.”

“I hardly knew her.

“She looks nice.”

“Yeah — she was,” I said, my heart nearly breaking.

I never saw Clare Again.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5gyucf/my_brief_affair_with_a_colleague_fmcheating