The affair with my work wife (part 2) (FM)

*Here is part 2. You don’t necessarily need part 1, but if you’re interested it can be found on my page along with my other stories. Thank you for reading.*

It felt like forever to reach Sunday morning while I lied in bed alone, dead to the world. I watched the bedside radio flip through each illuminated red number and my ears occasionally caught a sentence or two from the infomercial droning on in the back. I wasn’t so much drunk anymore as I was anxious and now delirious from lack of sleep. *What am I doing?* I asked myself. *Is this really what I want?*

It sure felt like it.

Two of the guys from our team texted me, checking that I got back alright. One of those texts was from Jack, our defacto leader. He didn’t mention Elle by name, but asked if I got lucky and based on his grinch-like grin he wore last night, I think he’s caught on to us. Very truthfully, I told him we are just good friends and nothing happened. I had only begun to trust him and wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted. Jack didn’t seem to believe me anyway and told me my secret is safe with him. I couldn’t think of a response that wasn’t going to incriminate me, so I said nothing. I still hadn’t heard a word from Elle since the elevator last night, but I guess that should’ve been expected.

My eyes began to feel heavy just after the sun came up and I slept right through breakfast. I was starved by lunch and texted Elle to see if she wanted to get some food, but she declined. It didn’t take much for me to realize she had reservations and I should’ve too, but she made me happier than I’ve been in some time. I felt like I was ready to leave my wife if that’s what it was going to take. There was a popular chain sandwich place in walking distance and I decided to get something for Elle anyway as I recalled her favorite order from memory. After leaving it by her door, I texted her when I reached the elevator.

Me: Open your door, there’s a meatball sub getting cold.

Elle: shut up you didn’t

Elle: OMG you’re the best

– 3 minutes later –

Elle: what, no Dr. Pep?

Me: you’re welcome to come share mine

Elle: what if I drink it all then what?

Me: you’ll pay dearly if you make that mistake

A few minutes go by and there’s a light tap on my door, the one I waited up all night for, she was dressed in kid’s cartoon themed pajama pants and a plain black hoodie despite it being particularly hot out. I’m guessing this was her “I’m hungover” attire. It was obvious she didn’t sleep much either, which brought me some small comfort.

Pushing me aside, she storms into my room, “get outta my way where’s my doctor?!” She playfully demands in a slightly hoarse voice.

“You girls have a one track mind,” I quipped.

She sat down on the bed, sipped my soda and took a bite of her sandwich before turning her attention to the TV. Still chewing, she asked, “what the fuck are you watching!?” I wasn’t sure either, but it looked very much like soft-core porn edited for daytime TV. The woman on the screen suddenly bellowed a loud, obviously fake, moan that caused Elle to laugh so hard she almost choked on her meal.

I was a caught between a tidal wave of embarrassment and trying to be nonchalant. Ultimately I caved to my need to explain myself and said, “you know I didn’t put this on, right? I just got back two minutes ago… Come on.” My awkward nature was only making this worse, so by now her was laughter had become an uproar. Somewhere during this giggle fit she snorted loudly, which got me chuckling, and soon we both had escalated it into hysteria that lasted long enough to make my cheeks hurt.

As our chaotic and childish behavior subsided, I tracked her next moves, observing silently as she got comfortable, leaning back against the pillows at the head of the bed and tossing the covers over her legs. I tried to be as nonchalant as I could about this, knowing that any sudden movements may scare her off.

Tiny taps of rain started against the hotel window and soon developed into violent slapping of droplets. I turned the TV up louder and moved to a seat on the bed, down by her feet. After a minute she pressed her foot into my back and pushed me to the side, “you make a better door than window, you know” she mocked. I shoved her foot from me, but she was purposely annoying me with it now, sliding it underneath my ass and putting it on my shoulder, “smell it, come on, I know a dirty freak like you is dying to,” she said.

Eventually I stood up and grabbed her by her ankle and dragged her closer to me. With her foot in hand I put it next to my nose and audibly took a whiff. I don’t have a foot fetish, but I decided to play the role for a minute, testing my boundaries. We both laughed as I got more into character, bringing a creepy tone of voice and ad-libbing my desires on the spot. She played the helpless victim up until she smacked me in the head with a pillow, which barely missed being in perfect sync with the snap of a lighting strike. Promptly, I wrestled her feathery weapon away from her while the thunder growled at us. Soon I found myself on my knees on the bed, towering over her and using the same pillow against her. She’s trying to fight me off between fits of laughter, but she knows she can’t out muscle me, and she’s now trapped. Taking advantage of the high ground I took each of her wrists and pinned them to the mattress while the pillow fell harmlessly to the side. Her laughter quiets down as we both felt the shift in the air. In that very moment all I heard was my heart beat and the rain drops on the window.

I pressed my hips closer to hers and leaned down. She could see this move coming from a mile away, but she doesn’t try to stop me, no, instead her smug smile widened as my face inched closer to hers. It seemed like she’s begun to understand how tightly I’m wound around her finger. Our lips made contact and her tongue welcomed mine, sliding quickly, pressing against each other in their own dance while the storm raged in the background.

Our hands never stopped exploring each other while we rolled around in the king-size bed. It was a sweaty montage of grabbing and grinding our bodies together, but each of us seemed afraid to be the first to take it further than this. The noises of the bed squeaking or our heavy breathing was easily drowned out by the storm, providing enough distraction from the cold reality that waits for us outside this room.

No longer able resist, my hands began to wander along her body. A few fingers slipped underneath her hoodie, with bated breath she goes, “isn’t it hot in here?” Before tossing it to the floor. It became apparent why she wore the hoodie, her pewter colored t shirt underneath it did very little to hide her body. It was an old, partially tattered shirt with a faded band name that has thinned out from years of washing and strained to make it all the way around her chest. The cloth stretched tightest at her sternum and dangled just shy of her belly button, revealing the piercing in her navel and a glimpse of her porcelain skin. Her nipples popped from underneath the fabric, begging for my attention and I wasn’t one to keep them waiting.

I grabbed her hair with one hand and we continued our dances with tongues. My other hand resumed course, up her bare little tummy, applying a delicate enough touch to produce goosebumps. Soon it was climbing her mountain of a breast, exploring each inch of the terrain as it went, cupping and massaging methodically, but stopping before I reached the peak. I switched to the other side to be sure one doesn’t get jealous and gave her nipples just enough attention to keep them erect. She bit down on my ear, releasing it only to ease out a hot breath that drew shivers from me. My hand moved lower, now resting on the mound between her legs. I listened to a faint whine escape very softly from her lips as I made contact, “please, yes,” she encouraged me.

I began rubbing her clit from over her clothes, the soft, fuzzy material of her pants gave just enough cushion for me to press a little harder. My dick grew stiffer than I ever thought it could watching her face change from my touch. I carefully dragged her shirt over her tits, taking notice of how incredibly proud they stood, perky and supple, no longer protected from me. My mouth dove down to her tit like nature had programmed it to do, sucking her nipple into my mouth before massaging it with my tongue. With each swirl over her areola, her nails dug more into the back of my neck, pressing my face deeper into her chest. My hand shimmied faster on her mound, listening closely to her sharp gasps of pleasure. I could feel a trail of spit clinging to my mouth and beard while I switched to the other side of her chest. I stopped after a minute and pulled up to nibble on her neck slightly, but as my lust for her intensified I bit too hard and she winced, “watch it, don’t leave a mark,” she chided.

“It’s just us, we don’t need to hide,” I said with far too much raw honesty. Instantly, I could feel how my words put a damper on the mood and as quickly as this all began, it stopped. She climbed off the bed and pulled her shirt down, refusing to make eye contact with me as she marched over to her hoodie on the ground.

I shot up and grabbed her wrist, “Elle, I know our situation and it may look easy for me, but it’s not, and I’d do anything to keep you by my side…whatever it takes.”

There was tremendous nervous energy waiting for her to react. Finally, she looked up at me, “you can’t do that,” she said with watery eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t pretend nothing else exists and make promises you can’t keep. We may be here, but we have families at home and we can’t ignore that.”

“I never intend on breaking a promise to you, Elle, not now or ever,” I said catching her glossy gaze, “I promise you that keeping you in my life is the most important thing to me.”

“And what about the people we’re hurting?” She asked.

“You’ve brought me more happiness in the past day than I’ve had in years, I don’t want to jeopardize that. It’s all up to you, we can run away together and start over or we can leave our secrets right here and never talk about them again, whatever you want to do, I will do.”

Just then her phone rang and judging by how quickly she scurried out of the room I assumed it was her husband. I listened as her voice got softer while walking further from my door. I got the sudden feeling I should text my wife.

Me: I miss you sweetie

Wife: miss you

Waiting for Elle to return I stared at my phone thinking my wife would have more to say since it’s been a few days since we spoke, but the longer I waited the more obvious it was that no more texts were coming. It gave me that last little encouragement to confirm my decision about Elle. I lied back in bed, smelling the fading scent of Elle’s shampoo and perfume on the pillows and slowly I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I woke up at one point and couldn’t move my right arm, glancing down I saw Elle lying on it and using my chest as a pillow. *I could die so happy right now* I thought to myself before closing my eyes again.

Elle and I woke up well past dinner time and took one of the rental cars to get some fast food. We ate mostly in silence while idling in a parking space and listening to the radio. She turned the music down and looked at me very concerned, “I dont know what I can offer you.. I love my husband, I have a child with him and we can’t just stay in San Antonio forever. And if we start something I don’t know how we can stop…” She said letting her words hang over us.

“I can’t tell you what’s right for you, but I know I want to be with you.. in any way you’ll allow me to,” I said reaching for her hand and repeating, “*any* way.”

She studied my face for a second, “so if I said I want to sleep over, but *no* sex, you’d be ok with it?” She asked.

“You mean like we did earlier? I think I have that part handled,” I said with some moxie and she hit me for the second time in two days.

A short time later she arrived back at my room with her toothbrush, makeup and an outfit for the next day. She’s changed into a different t shirt, “because I wouldn’t stop staring,” she said and I’m laying in bed watching her brush her teeth and we’re talking about work, as if we had done this hundreds of times before. She pulls back the sheets, slides in and curls up next to me, contouring herself to my body and throwing the blanket over us, I felt each move she made like when she slid her cold, bare feet between my legs, or how her ass kept pushing back into my crotch as I fought my urge to stiffen.

Our position shifted a little bit every so often until she was laying on her back with my head on her shoulder, staring down to her tits. I scooped her by the waist, dragging her a tiny bit closer to me and my arm stayed there, draped across her. Her legs scooted a bit closer and suddenly I felt her thigh press into my crotch. That was all it took to get me hard and my cock started putting pressure into her leg. At one point I even considered humping *that,* if she’d let me.

“You can’t sleep?” She asked breaking the long silence.

“No, is it hot in here?” I asked trying to be funny. She chuckled to herself softly, probably regretting she even said anything. “*Oh* that?” I asked rhetorically while my hips softly thrusted my cock into her leg, “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

She laughed mockingly and called me a pervert, “Just keep it away from me,” she said giggling said shoving me away.

“I can try to make it go away, but it’s not always easy,” I said keeping my same tone. In a bold move, even for me, I reached down and took my dick out of my shorts, but kept it all covered by the blankets. Slowly, I began stroking myself while she watched the covers rise and fall.

“Wow, do you need me to give you some space?” She asked faking disgust.

“No, I don’t need much space,” I said smiling at her. I couldn’t tell if she was just confused by my terrible humor or if she was about to yell at me for dipping a toe over the line of our agreement.

“You can grab it,” the devil on my shoulder made me say.

“I said no sex,” she snapped.

“This isn’t sex, this is just foreplay, and you didn’t say anything about foreplay,” I said behind a cheeky smile.

“You know what I meant,” she said crossing her arms and refusing to look in my direction.

“Ok, ok, you win, you don’t have to lay a finger on me,” I said faking an apology, “but what if,” I continued while sliding my hand on her thigh closest to me. She still refused to look at me.

My hand crawled slowly until it was between her legs, I cupped my fingers around her mound, over her clothes, but she still wouldn’t acknowledge me. Slowly I swayed my hand back and forth, waiting for her to respond. I focused on my rubbing, keeping the same pace for a bit before applying a bit more pressure. My next glance to her face I saw her eyes closed and she was breathing quietly, but she has at least allowed herself to enjoy this moment of pleasure. I was in heaven, she didnt have to make a sound for me to hear her body calling.

I heard her breathing become heavier through her nose and her face contorted just a bit. I gradually worked up to a faster pace and studied her expression, noting the changes. Out of nowhere she stiff arms me to the side and abruptly said, “okay, that’s enough now,” but we both knew enough is never enough for me.

“No, no, not yet,” I said, “you’re not done yet.”

She tried to resist, but I gleefully ignored her complaints and ultimately she allowed me to slide her pants and underwear off her. She sported a landing strip of pubic hair, which I hadn’t seen many in my sexual travels, but no amount of it could’ve bothered me. Assuming my original position, I ran two fingers down her wet folds, pushing them aside and along her lips, collecting her warm juices along the way. She laid down more vertically and her eyes closed while I began my favorite type of work.

She moaned when my finger split her lips and glided along her inner wall. I slowed my movements when I heard her gasp loud, like she was surprised, and pushed against the rough spot more. My face must’ve been beaming with joy watching her body involuntarily react, legs twitching and face twisting. My pace quickened, pressing a bit more faster to find her preference and it wasn’t long before I added a second digit. She bellowed out a moan again, no longer disguising her pleasure as disgust. I grabbed myself and started tugging hard and fast on my shaft. She began rocking her hips on my hands, running her hands through my hair, tugging on a fistful of it at times and sighing loudly. A few more of minutes and she’s begun crying out animalistically, thrusting her hips more as I felt her release.

Her thick nectar crawling down my finger sent me into a horny spiral. I put my fingers to her mouth and she knew what to do. While she sucked on them, I knelt beside her and with a firm grasp I yanked on myself quickly and began painting her mound in my warm, white filth. Some of it spurt out with more zeal, laying a white stripe or two on her belly. I collapsed to the bed while she continued pulling the sheets off the mattress while her pleasure faded. I got her a towel and we laughed at ourselves for a bit, but eventually went to bed.

“Thanks for not having sex with me,” she said in a chuckle as we snuggled.

“My pleasure.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/l74d0u/the_affair_with_my_work_wife_part_2_fm