Julia strained, gasping, hands planted on his broad chest, rocking atop him, feeling the wiry salt and pepper hairs of his chest under her fingers, feeling his big hands on her hips, holding her, helping her, as she groaned and ground down and forward again, and again — a short, sharp bucking motion signaling that she was there, or almost, as David used his hands to pull her forward and down onto him more firmly, lifting his hips into her, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he concentrated, his own climax close. But he focused on her, watching her as he always did in these moments, in their favorite position, her lovely breasts swaying, firm, coral-pink nipples distended in her arousal, a pretty flush suffusing her face and chest and the long column of her neck as she leaned her head back, blue eyes squeezed shut, panting. Then her head lolled forward and she dipped, her brown hair cascading down, a veil for them both, her gold necklace with two intertwined hearts brushing his chest hair as her lips sought his and she breathed into his mouth, a muffled cry like a yelp, pleasure coursing through them both as they rocked together, and he felt her shift, slide forward and stop, trembling, her slick, warm sex jammed tight to his, and then begin to shake atop him as he gripped her, holding her to him, and now lifting up into her even as she cried out and thrust again against him.
He held out a few moments longer, then, with a strangled cry, forced himself harder up and against her and came like that, holding her up even as she ground down onto him, both of them groaning and gasping, until he fell back into the bed and they moved together for a few more delirious moments, the sex wetter now, a squelching noise adding to the comfortable squeaking of the well-broken-in bed as they rode out their climaxes together.
She finally collapsed atop him, panting, then carefully slid to the side, his slick cock falling from her soaked vagina and leaving a trail of semen on her thigh and his as she moaned softly, still shaking, and clutched herself to him, his arm sliding under her and pulling her close.
She stayed that way for a few more minutes, simply breathing, eyes closed, then rolled to her back, arms carelessly folded on the pillow over her head, her breathing slowing. She could feel a slight sheen of perspiration on her breasts and stomach, and the good, deep ache between her legs as she glanced over at David.
Like her, he was still catching his breath, eyes closed, one arm still under her shoulders, the other across his midsection. His neck and his rising and falling chest shone with sweat too, and glancing down, she saw his impressively thick cock, now mostly deflated, gleaming with their combined juices. She traced her eyes up and down his long frame — broad chested, with dark, well-maintained salt-and-pepper hair on his chest and flat stomach, long, muscular legs and nicely defined arms. It was his face she enjoyed the most, though — a strong jaw, large but well-shaped nose, a bit of 5 o’clock shadow, even this early in the day. Nice lips on a generous mouth. He wasn’t handsome in any classical sense, but there was an earthy vitality and intelligence to his features. And though closed, she thought about his eyes — blue, laughing, always direct and intelligently appraising.
She turned onto her side to face him, slipping one leg over his thigh, her hand going to his slightly slick chest.
“That was nice,” she murmured, lifting her head momentarily to rearrange a sheaf of her disheveled chestnut-colored hair before resettling her head onto the pillow, sighing with content.
“Whew,” he sighed softly. “More than ‘nice.’ ” His hand moved down, found her thigh, encased in a black thigh-high stocking, and caressed it, toying with the strap and clasp of her lacy garter belt.
She felt the coolness of the air-conditioner now, the air seeming to bathe her, sending a little chill down her. She made a mental note to turn the thermostat back to the standard 72 before she returned to work.
“Do we have time for one more?” David asked in his playful low growl.
She turned her eyes up to find his head turned toward her now, smiling, eyes on hers, hand sliding further up her leg with each stroke.
She laughed, reached down and pushed his hand away.
“No, we do not,” she said emphatically, with assumed asperity. “I have work to do and you have meetings this afternoon, or did you forget?”
He groaned theatrically, and slowly extricated himself from her limbs, then sat up, presenting his broad back to her, still tan from summer, and the pale cleft of his ass, which was another part of him she admired. He ran his hands through his short sandy hair, shot through with a healthy crop of wiry grays, then turned and looked at her, reaching to give her hip a small, friendly slap.
“I’m going to shower real quick,” he smiled. “Then I’ll come help you with the sheets.”
“A *real* quick shower … I have to redo my makeup and I don’t want all that steam,” she retorted, watching as he stood, 12 years her senior but still in excellent shape at 48. “And I can handle the bed.”
“Whatever you say,” he smiled, walking from the room. She heard him enter the master bathroom, then heard water running briefly. He reappeared a moment later in the doorway, hand raised, and tossed a slightly damp washcloth to her, which she snatched from the air.
“Thanks,” she smiled. “Now go shower.”
“Yes ma’am,” he smiled, then went back into the bathroom, leaving the door open.
She lay back again, then reached between her legs with the washcloth, gently cleaning her sex, her vulva feeling a bit swollen and her clit still senstive after her orgasms. She tucked a finger into a fold of the warm, damp cloth and eased it into herself, feeling his semen still inside her her as she gently probed and cleaned.
She folded the washcloth, placed it on the damp spot on the sheet next to her, then rose from the bed herself, 36 and leggy, thick, dark-brown hair swaying to mid-back as she stood, her bare, still-firm 36C breasts topped with small, coral-pink nipples. She was naked but for a black lacy garter belt and black thigh-high nylon stockings, and she swiftly stripped them off, folding them and tucking them into the back of her underwear drawer before replacing them with simple cotton panties and black pantyhose and a nude bra, before turning to take a well-loved pink robe from the back of her bedroom door and donning it, belting it before turning to the bed.
She stripped the ground and top sheets swiftly, folding them together, then grabbed the fresh sheets she had lain on the small overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. She could hear the shower switch off as she tucked in the ground sheet, and she had just finished resettling the comforter atop the freshly made bed when David came out, towel wrapped around his waist, finger-combing his hair.
“Your turn,” she said, standing on tip-toe to kiss him and then handing him clean pillowcases. “Put the old ones and your towel with the dirty sheets, and I’ll take them down when we leave.
“Will do,” he said, taking the white pillow cases from her, then pausing, looking at her. “So glad we had time today … I’ve missed you,” he said with a smile, his free hand going to her waist, caressing, then leaning down for a more substantial kiss.
She leaned into him, into the smell of soap and shampoo and his skin, feeling his warm lips on hers and her heart pounding anew, and pushed herself away only with an effort of will.
“Stop that!” she gasped, then laughed. “We don’t have a lot of time … I’ll be just a minute while you get dressed,” she said as she brushed past him into the bathroom. “We’re going to be missed!”
“Not on a Friday,” he said confidently, pulling the old pillowcases from the pillows, then placing the new ones on. He settled them and pulled the comforter up, then finally replaced the decorative pillows on the bed, knowing from experience how she preferred them.
Julia came out a few minutes later, teeth brushed, hair and makeup retouched, having given herself a more thorogh washcloth bath and reapplied deodorant and perfume. She tossed the soiled washcloth atop the pile on the floor, noting that David had already dressed, shoes and suit pants on, shirt buttoned and slipping into his suit coat.
“You go on ahead,” she said, raising herself again to kiss his cheek. “I’ll dress and put these in the washer and be right behind you.”
“You sure?” he smiled, reattaching his watch.
“Yep … you have a meeting in less than an hour. Get going,” she commanded, smiling, then kissed him again, a real kiss this time, both of them sinking into it, lips and mouths and tongues touching, seeking … but she could tell he was being careful of her makeup, and a fresh wave of appreciation for him came over her.
He broke the sweet, soft kiss this time, smiled at her, caressed a stray hair behind her ear.
“Okay beautiful … see you back at the salt mines,” he chuckled. She watched him go, heard his tread on her stairs, and trusted that he knew to peer out the window first for any stray jogging or dog-walking neighbors before leaving.
She gathered up the laundry, made sure the small air filter in the corner of the room was on and working, then took one last, careful look around her bedroom and master bath before going downstairs, stopping in the laundry room off the kitchen to stuff the sheets and towels and washcloths in to the machine and turn it on.
She went to the thermostat and turned it back up to 72, then walked into the foyer and shrugged into her coat. She grabbed her bag and keys, then paused to survey the foyer and stairs one last time, senses attuned.
Smiling, she let herself out, locked the door and got into her tidy little Volvo hybrid SUV and drove away.
*****
It was coming up on 3 o’clock when a shadow crossed her desk and she looked up to find him standing over her as she typed.
“Hi Julia,” he said casually, and held out a tan file folder. “The Ross account. Do you mind looking it over and then getting Katherine to sign off on it?”
She took the folder from him and opened it, glancing through it, aware of his nearness and her own reaction to him, the quiet hum of the office around them made quieter by the usual early departures on a Friday afternoon.
“Can do,” she smiled up at him professionally. “Do you need it today?”
“Let her know Monday morning is fine,” he said gruffly. “Thanks, Julia.”
“Sure thing David,” she replied, already turning back to her work, her face a blank, professional mask, even as her heart pounded and she felt the sick-sensual sensation of her stomach churning at the danger and sexiness of what they were involved in.
It had been like this for months … a game of who could be coolest at the office, and who could be the most wanton and driven in the moments they could steal together.
She tapped a pen idly against her keyboard for a few moments, eyes going blank … remembering their first stolen kiss in the stairwell between the fourth and fifth floors. The first lunch they’d had together, both flushed, flustered, and yet that undefinable something thick around them like incense. How the talk, flirty at first, had turned more direct. More heated. Nore urgent. She’d accepted his offer of a ride back to the office in his car … and then had been with him for almost an hour, parked in an alley, the two of them making out like teenagers, his hands on her, hers on him, making her moan, making her his, at least for the moment. He’d fingered her to orgasm, and she’d stroked him to completion.
How she’d vibrated at her desk the rest of that day, thinking she must have a sign on her: “Adultress!” Her face flushed, heat on her breasts and thighs, between her legs, where his big, perfect hands had been. The taste of his kisses in her mouth.
She’d gone home in an increasing cloud of anxiety and guilt, though. Scott would know. He’d see it on her. How could he not? She felt like it was all over her, her embarrassment and remorse coming off her in waves. Not just because she’d done it. But because she’d loved it, and wanted more. Along with the guilt, and the incredulity that she’d actually allowed it to happen … she felt vibrant. Alive. Sexy.
But Scott had been his usual self — carefree, kind, a bit distant, insouciant. They’d shared dinner together as a family, Julia correcting Ben’s manners and cutting Karen’s food up into smaller bites as Scott had told her about a big printing job his small graphics company had coming up. She’d nodded and smiled and commented in all the right places, focusing on the kids perhaps a bit more than usual, but Scott had apparently seen nor sensed nothing amiss.
Later, kids bathed and in bed, she’d found him reading in the den, TV on a news channel but muted. He’d looked up at her, smiled, asked how the kids were.
“Fine. All fine,” she’d responded, then smiled, leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’m gonna go up and get in bed, knock myself out with a boring book. Coming up?”
“Soon,” he’d smiled back, grabbing her hand to kiss it, and then he’d dipped back into his book.
In bed, she had lain there, amazed, appalled. Could it really be this easy? *This morning I was one person. Now I’m another. Now I’m a cheater. I wasn’t this morning, and now I am.*
She picked up her phone. Scrolled through her contacts until she came to “Danielle.” He’d given her his number and she had given him hers. They’d agreed to the need for caution, and care. Texts only, and no calls. And initial texts that could be construed as business or wrong numbers.
Her fingers were shaking as she touched his contact and then opened a text window, biting her lip, her ears listening for any movement from Scott from downstairs.
She made a fist, willed her hand to stillness, then typed:
“The presentation today was good. Do you want me to type up my notes?”
She wavered for a moment, then hit send, her heart pounding, mouth dry. She knew he had her number listed under “Thomas.” It seemed like a safe plan. Or amazingly amateurish. She just couldn’t know which.
She waited, worried, glancing again and again at the bedroom doorway. She’d left the door slightly open so she could hear Scott if he started to come up the stairs, but the stairs were carpeted and he had slippers on. Plus he was a quiet guy anyway, always had been. Unlike some of the men she’d known and dated before she’d met him … brash guys, loud talkers, chest thumpers. It was one of the things she’d admired about Scott, his self-effacing quietness. He-
She felt the phone buzz in her hand, almost startling a little shriek from her.
She looked at the screen and saw his reply.
>Hi. I can talk. :) I’ve been thinking about you all day. I can still smell your perfume …. hope it’s just my imagination. ;) You’re amazing and beautiful. I feel like a kid on Christmas day. Is it wrong to say that I loved every moment? Loved being with you. Loved talking with you. Loved how your lips tasted, how you felt under my hands. Love the color of your eyes. Your perfume, your smile. You’re all I’ve been thinking about, all day and all night. Trust me, I’m not like this usually. Just hope you feel some of this too
Reading his words, her smile, tentative at first, had grown, and now he had her beaming. Her heart was still pounding but it was for him now, for his words, the sexy, playful energy in them, and she could feel the liquid warmth between her legs now, how hard her nipples suddenly were under the soft, baggy T-shirt she’d worn to bed, as she hit reply, fingers still shaking.
>I do, absolutely. It’s crazy. I’ve been shaking like a leaf all day. God, your kisses … so good. And your hands on me. I can still feel them. I hated that you stopped, and hate that we can’t just, y’know…
She paused, wanting to say more … but hit send, her breathing shallow, as if she’d just run up a flight of stairs.
The reply was quick this time.
>I know. I want that with you, soon. I don’t want to rush and make a mistake … but do you think you can see me Saturday or Sunday afternoon? I usually go to my health club one or both days for a few hours. I want to spend that time with you, behind a locked door.
“Oh my god,” she whispered, and she was shaking even more now, all over, like a leaf. And she could feel the wetness between her legs.
She willed her hand to stillness. And typed, quickly, before she could change her mind.
>I’ll make it work. You make the plan and I will be there.
She hit send, then slid a hand down, under the sheet, under her plain, comfortable panties, and found herself sopping wet, and shivered all over again as her fingers gently slid and rubbed, wondering if there would be more tonight. She didn’t have to wait long.
>I will. God … I’m so excited. I can’t wait. I’ll be in touch. See you tomorrow beautiful
She texted back:
>Can’t wait either. See you tomorrow ?
She quickly deleted the entire thread, which was hard to do because her fingers just *would not* stop shaking. Then she plugged her phone into the charging cord on her bedside night stand. She slid from bed and quickly checked on both kids before going into the bathroom, locking the door … and masturbating furiously, the heel of her hand in her mouth to stifle the moans as she came, remembering his hands on her, his tongue in her mouth, how alive she’d felt.
Remembering it now, at her desk, Julia can’t help but smile. How crazed she’d been during those two days before they’d been able to meet! Worried she’d give herself away, say or do something stupid. Or that Scott would simply notice her constant flush, her shaking hands, the way she couldn’t seem to sit still at night, her manic cleaning. The way she couldn’t meet his eyes.
But the day of their first real time together had been … amazing. She’d awoken calm, even though her sleep had been restless. She’d showered, shaved her legs and armpits. Trimmed her small, neat bush. While Scott was out with the kids walking the dogs and then visiting the neighborhood playground, she’d chosen what she’d wear beneath plain workout clothes — a black lacy thong and matching bra that Scott had surprised her with a few years before on Valentine’s Day. It had given her a twinge, slipping into them, a feeling of embarrassed guilt. But then she’d stood in front of her mirror, turning this way and that … and had imagined how David would see her. Even with the slight sag to her mom boobs, and the few remaining unsightly stretch marks. She’d been simultaneously thrilled and scared to death, quickly donning yoga pants, a plain black tight-fitting T-shirt, then a soft gray sweatshirt and running shoes.
She’d made the kids and Scott lunch, choosing only tea and a piece of toast with cheese for herself, sure her stomach would revolt if she tried to eat more. But she’d remained calm, and had felt remarkably peaceful, even as she’d lightly kissed her husband and told him she was going to the gym for a bit, and might stop at the grocery store on the way home. In her workout bag was extra underwear, deodorant, a travel toothbrush and toothpaste, and small plastic bottles of both her shampoo and body wash.
David had texted her the plan, earlier in the day. Meet at his health club. Take his car. He’d rented an Airbnb, a two-bedroom apartment not far away, in a nondescript building.
And it had all gone like clockwork. David had been waiting in his big smoke-gray SUV and she’d slipped into it after parking and locking her own. They’d driven to the building, holding hands in what had almost been a death-grip. He’d parked and told her to wait for his text. When he did so, she left the car and locked it, used the keycode he’d given her to get into the building, then rode the elevator to the fourth floor and gone to the unit. 412. She’d never forget, standing outside the apartment door, heart pounding, steeling herself. He’d left it slightly ajar, and she’d walked in. The place was tidy but unremarkable, and small. A tiny utility kitchen with a pass-through to an even smaller dining nook. One big room that the owner had decorated with a blocky leather sectional and a huge TV. And a short hall on the right, two bedrooms and a bathroom leading off of it.
David had been standing there, in the kitchen. It was a gray day, and he hadn’t turned on any lights. He was partly in shadows when she shut the door behind herself. When she came in he walked past her, locked the door … then turned and took her in his arms, both of them groaning with their need.
The sex had been wonderful. Energetic. Inventive. Punishing, but in a good way. It had been years since Julia had experienced anything like it. She’d cried out her pleasure, uncaring, and he’d done the same. They’d used gutter terms to describe what they were doing, what they wanted. They’d fucked on the couch first, her astraddle him, her bra not even off yet, telling each other how good it was. To do it harder, faster. Then they’d rolled off onto the floor in a hungry 69. She’d moaned like a woman possessed as she ground down onto his tongue, his warm lips, his nose and chin, coating him with her juices, while stroking his thick circumcised penis with her hand, the other exploring and caressing his balls and thighs, mouth busily sucking his swollen head and tasting the sweet precum he was oozing. They’d made each other cum like that, Julia more than once, then she had rolled off him, panting. He’d gone to the kitchen for water for them both, and they’d lain there together, on the rug, side by side, just looking at each other, catching their breath, smiling, shyness gone. She’d gone to pee, and when she came out, he was in the bedroom. He took her on the bed, first in doggy as she’d groaned into a pillow, then in missionary … and then, for a few brief, ecstatic minutes, standing, her arms and legs wrapped around him, her back against the door, their mouths glued together, his cock buried in her as she tried to help him, his hands grasping her full ass as he lifted her and she tried to also lift herself, using his big shoulders as leverage, before dropping back down onto the hard length of him inside her, filling her, making her scream her orgasm into the rented apartment as he’d finally turned and dropped her onto the bed, then held her legs up while he plumbed her depths, growling like a man possessed, until finally he’d yowped and exploded inside her, her hands pulling his ass, wanting more, wanting him deeper, wanting it all, even as he groaned and thrust, his semen filling her.
They’d showered together, and it had been yet another revelation … exploring, soft kisses, his hands holding and touching her, soaping and caressing, her arms around his solid neck and grasping his muscular shoulders, noting how much wider he was, his mesomorphic build, comparing him to Scott’s rangy, smaller runner’s frame. She liked David’s muscle, the power in him. Not the fake kind, like some gym rat … but just a big man, strong in a deceptive way. Scott had never once done something like that with her, holding her up like that. Had never even tried. She’d loved it. She was aching, yes, and would feel it even more tomorrow. But she relished the ache. Even relished the feeling of his semen inside her.
They’d driven back to his club, a different quiet now, pervading the space between then. She’d held his hand, his arm. Leaned against him briefly a few times. Knowing she should be careful … but not wanting to let go yet.
He’d stopped in the lot of closed-down gas station not far from his club and they’d kissed again. Lovers, now … needy, hungry, both wanting more. But aware their time was up. They’d promised to text, they’d reminded the other that they’d see each other in the office Monday. And pledged to be together again, like this, like today, soon.
She’d expected guilt to cover her like a wet sheet as soon as she was alone again in her car. But it hadn’t. Instead, she’d felt alive. Tingling all over. The warmth of the pleasure he’d given her and she him all over her still.
She felt powerful. Alive. And for the first time in a long time, completely sure of herself.
She’d been completely herself when she’d let herself back into the house, and hung her bag from the bannister as she always did. The kids were watching a movie and Scott was in the kitchen, pouring himself a beer, when she’d come in and kissed his cheek and given his back a small caress.
“Hi babe. Good workout?” he’d asked.
“Yep,” she’d smiled, going to the fridge for a cold water bottle. “Glad I went.”
“Well good,” he’d smiled. “Any thoughts on dinner?”
And just like that, her new life had begun.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/l4znf4/julias_new_life_cheating_mf