[Note: With the exception of changing his first name, everything else in here is 100% accurate, with absolutely zero embellishment or alteration.]
Link: [Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/aal4lb/my_first_affair_the_soccer_player_part_i/?st=JQA6E22M&sh=007106dc)
It felt surreal to be back in my house, as the reality of what I had done hit me. I had just jumped into the deep end of cheating, having full-on sex with someone. I was impressed with myself that I’d been able to go through with it, even if it didn’t exactly go how I had fantasized. I wondered whether I should take it personally that Dylan couldn’t stay hard for me. His guilt seemed believable enough, and I did feel a little guilty myself…
I was worried my husband would smell sex (and latex) on me, but he was watching a movie and my arrival home barely registered as a blip with him. I told him a couple of gossipy stories about co-workers from the post-work thing and then went to bed by myself while he stayed up finishing his movie. As I lied in bed, I ran through the crazy events of my evening and found myself wondering what Dylan could do with another shot.
The next day I went to the beach with my husband. I wandered off by myself, took a photo of my feet in the sand, and texted it to Dylan. Given all our beach talk over email, it seemed an appropriate next-day text. When I hadn’t heard back by the following morning, I sent him an email with some playful banter and asked directly when I was going to get to see him again.
The next day Dylan replied, saying simply that he had been thinking about my comment in bed that night about how there was no way that this could end well. As I berated myself for saying that, I replied saying that we should meet up and discuss.
Meanwhile, my libido was awakened and in overdrive to the point I found myself wanting sex at home. But after another short, frustrating, and ultimately only semi-satisfying session with my husband, I couldn’t help myself and burst into tears. This clearly roused my husband’s suspicions, as while I was crying up in our bed, he went downstairs, logged into my email, and found the smoking gun.
He came back upstairs and asked me if there was anything I wanted to tell him, and I knew I was busted. I frantically tried to figure out if there was any chance of keeping him in the dark about actually going through with fucking someone else, but he clearly knew everything. So I fessed up and answered all his questions.
Yes, he was bigger than you.
Yes, he was better in bed than you.
No, I didn’t orgasm with him.
I told my husband how Dylan couldn’t stay hard, how he felt guilty about fucking someone else’s wife, about his dumpy car and apartment, and about how he had told me it wasn’t over.
My husband’s reaction was fascinating. He was extremely surprised and upset, but weirdly wanted to have sex with me a lot over the next few days. But he was prematurely ejaculating every time now as a result of being too aroused. One time, deeply disappointed and annoyed about not getting a chance to come during sex after he has shot his load in under a minute, I got mean and told him I needed and deserved better sex.
Meanwhile, my husband and I were having lots of weighty discussions at home about what all of this meant for our future together. I told him this was my way of saying I didn’t want to be married any more. He gave me space to figure this out and didn’t even complain when I texted or emailed with Dylan. All he said was that it was tough seeing my face light up every time I heard from Dylan. I couldn’t deny I was infatuated. I found myself wondering whether I might have a future with Dylan.
But after a good lunch date with my husband the next week, I caved and reluctantly agreed to end the affair. I had an opening that evening after work and before yoga and Dylan and I arranged to meet for a chat over coffee.
But seeing him there sitting at the table, I found myself wanting him again and feeling like I had been denied the full experience with him. And when he flashed me that killer, conspiratorial smile, I realized I was powerless and was about to fuck him again.
He lived only a few blocks from the coffee house and as we walked back to his place, I literally could feel my pussy dripping with excitement and anticipation. Again I followed him up the steps and into his apartment with my heart racing. This time his roommates were there, hanging out watching TV in the living room. As he introduced me to them, it was clear they had heard all about me, and their eyes were wide at what their roommate was pulling off: bringing home a married woman in the daylight.
We disappeared into his room and he put on The National for some degree of sound privacy. I reveled in undressing him and being undressed by him. It was even hotter doing this in a well-lit room during the day. We were naked in short order and I blew him again like before. Hard as a rock now, he asked if we could do it without a condom, as it was easier for him to stay hard without one. I debated the hotness of this for a second before deciding I would be too worried about the risks of unprotected sex to enjoy it. So I told him we really needed to use a condom. He agreed without any further resistance and put one on.
He climbed on top and with pretty much zero foreplay he was inside me and pumping away powerfully with long strokes in Missionary. It felt amazing. Way better than I ever imagined Missionary could feel. And this time I was matching his rhythm better and meeting his thrusts from the bottom. Then he started busting out the tricks, pulling my leg out to the side and holding it there, which tightened up things noticeably and made me feel wonderfully filled up by him.
We went like that for a while, then he ordered me onto my belly. I was weirdly into being commanded like that, and I went with it. He entered me from behind and when I raised up my hips for doggie, it felt completely different from what I was used to at home. The deeper penetration felt amazing and his shape and angle meant that he was hitting very different spots than what my husband did. He also fucked me much more roughly than my husband did. His long, deep strokes drove me wild, and the sound and sensation of him smacking into my ass with each forceful thrust was so hot. I remember specifically noticing that the force of his violent thrusts was causing his balls to fly up and brush against my clit in the front, and finding this a major turn-on.
A while later, without saying a word, he pushed me down onto my stomach and skillfully maneuvered me onto my side, all the while staying inside me in an audacious display of sexual skill. As we fucked on our sides, facing each other in a position I wouldn’t have dreamt of even trying at home, it occurred to me that we had been at it a while and neither of us had come yet. A short while later, he asked me if I thought I could orgasm, indicating he was waiting for me to come before he did.
I assured him that I was orgasmic. What I did not tell him is that I’d only ever had an orgasm with my husband. Despite all my sexual experience prior to first hooking up with my husband, I had never experienced an orgasm prior to him. He had quickly changed that with expert oral, essentially teaching me how to come. And then I had my first orgasm from sex the very first time we fucked. This was weighing on me, as my concern about whether I could orgasm at all with another partner was one of the reasons I had for staying in my marriage. I was legitimately worried that my husband was the only person capable of giving me an orgasm.
So now I was determined to come with Dylan. Eventually we rolled him onto his back and I climbed on top, trying and somewhat succeeding at keeping him inside me while changing positions like he had done earlier. As I rode him, I again noted how different it felt from Cowgirl at home. Rather than fast and furious grinding for a clitoral orgasm like with my husband, I could do more riding his cock. And riding a cock that pointed straight up was much easier and allowed for longer strokes. He was reasonably hard still, and was fucking me from below, which was both really hot and felt great.
Soon I found myself marveling at his impressive stamina and honored that he was waiting for me to come first before he did. I concentrated hard on my happy place: the beach. Finally, I could feel the orgasm coming, and I felt an enormous sense of relief. I blissfully let it roll over me, moaning in ecstasy. I had been decently loud prior to this, to the point I was pretty sure his roomates could hear my cries of pleasure on the other side of the wall. But now I really let loose with a screaming orgasm that they absolutely could hear anywhere in the apartment. Or on the street for that matter. I was having my first-ever vaginal orgasm and it was different from anything I’d experienced before.
He absolutely had been waiting for me to come first, because as my orgasm hit, he let out a big groan. I could feel his cock throbbing and pulsing and I swear I could detect the hot jets of cum filling the tip of the condom inside me. His orgasm clearly was good, because it seemed to last a while, as I continued to feel him throbbing inside me. When we both were done orgasming together, I collapsed on top of him, both of us sweaty, out of breath, and pleased with ourselves.
We lied there for a bit, caressing each other and kissing while we talked. It wasn’t a very sexy topic, but I went into some detail on my marriage. He asked if my husband knew about us and I lied and said he didn’t, just to spare Dylan unnecessary worry. He told me he didn’t want to be involved at all with any of my marital drama, and I assured him he wouldn’t be. He told me that I was “intense” in bed, but insisted this was a compliment. I wasn’t entirely convinced. There was kind of a sadness that hung over us. We had just had amazing sex, but we seemed like star-crossed lovers lying there together.
Then he stood up and walked across the room. As I admired his fit, naked body in the sunset-lit room, he picked up another condom off of his dresser and returned to the bed, very visibly growing hard again. The idea that he wanted me again turned me on incredibly and I enthusiastically took him in my mouth to get him fully erect. He tasted like cum and latex, but I didn’t mind one bit. When he was erect again, he rolled on another condom and we were right back at it in Missionary. He would do the same thing with my leg again in Missionary, as we went through the same positions again.
He noticeably wasn’t as hard as he had been the first time and I worried he was losing his erection. By the time I climbed on top for Cowgirl, it felt like we were losing steam. So I did some grinding on him until I came again — this time a clitoral orgasm for my first ever multiple orgasms from sex. It took a lot of concentration to get there, and I was very pleased with myself. We went a little longer and then finally he also came while only semi-hard. It wasn’t nearly as hot as the first time when we came together. It felt like more of an accomplishment going twice and coming twice than anything else.
There wasn’t any opportunity for afterglow this time, as I glanced at the clock and was shocked. We had been fucking for three hours and I needed to hustle to meet my husband in our designated spot where he picked me up after the yoga class I never had made it to that night. As I looked for my clothes, I realized what a mess I was. I was covered in sweat all over, my middle third was drenched in my own juices, my pussy smelled strongly of latex, my makeup was smeared, and my hair was completely disheveled. While getting dressed hurriedly I debated whether I could pass off any of this as the result of hot yoga. But ultimately I decided to just come clean with my husband about what I really had been up to.
Dylan walked me down to the front door and kissed me goodbye out on his front steps. It was thrilling and I felt pretty confident he liked me. But there was a sadness to the kiss as well, because we didn’t know if it would happen again. As I walked over to the parking lot where my husband was waiting, I tried to quickly take stock of what had happened and what I was about to tell him. And when I got in the car, I spilled the beans: I had not been at yoga. I had been having sex with Dylan.
My husband knew I had been meeting up with Dylan after work to end things, but he clearly was caught off guard by this news. He asked what we were doing for all that time and I found myself gleefully and proudly telling him that I was having sex for three hours. He was incredulous and asked if it was that great. Without any reservation, I told him it was easily the best I’d ever had and that I loved every second of it. Then he got gravely serious and asked if I had come with Dylan. I feel a little evil admitting this now, but I absolutely relished telling my husband that he longer was the only person to give me an orgasm. And that I’d had my first vaginal orgasm and first multiple orgasms from sex and loved it.
I thought he might cry, but he held himself together decently well. He asked me if I had feelings for Dylan and I admitted I did. He asked me if I wanted to leave him for Dylan and I said I didn’t know. He asked me if I was planning on seeing Dylan again and I said had no intention of stopping. He then said, “This has been by far the weirdest day of my life” and drove us home. It was on the drive home that I remembered that I had done this on our fifth wedding anniversary.
I want to say I was appalled at having done that on my anniversary, but it honestly felt bad-ass and liberating. If my marriage was bullshit, why treat it as anything other than that? And it was a total power move on my part. I hadn’t just fucked someone else. I had achieved a sexual connection with him well beyond what I had with my husband. It was oddly enjoyable watching him squirm and deal with this news that he has lost his special status as the only guy to make me come.
Back at home, it quickly became clear that my husband wanted to reclaim me sexually. So still sweaty from my efforts with another man, I let my husband peel off my top, jeans, and thong — all soaked with my wetness from being with someone else. I secretly thrilled when he noted that my inner thighs were bruised from rough Missionary sex with Dylan. And I watched, half horrified and half fascinated, when he proceeded to go down on my pussy that was visibly reddened and puffy from what Dylan and I had put it through earlier that evening. With his tongue buried in me, he confirmed what I had suspected: I tasted strongly like latex, having just had sex with condoms for hours. He undeniably was getting another guy’s seconds, and I loved this.
I strangely found myself really aroused by the idea of having sex with multiple people in the same night without so much as showering or even washing up in between. And I will admit I loved the idea of my infidelity literally being shoved in husband’s face, as he tried in vain to match his far superior predecessor. My husband fucked me with a vibe while licking my clit, and I had a long, intense orgasm that seemed to go on forever. It was one of the best ones I’ve ever had and a total mental orgasm after all I had been through that evening. It was so powerful that I realized my husband came just from witnessing it. I couldn’t decide whether this was hot or embarrassing.
I was fine stopping there, but my husband was intent on having sex. I blew him to get him hard again and he put on one of the condoms that now were necessary at home. He told me he wanted to be on top, and my arousal turned to annoyance. He was trying to be dominating like Dylan, but couldn’t pull it off. He didn’t have the cockiness, cock, skill, or stamina of his new rival. But that wasn’t going to stop him.
He tried holding out my leg during Missionary just like Dylan had, but he didn’t know what he was doing. He tried slamming into my ass from behind in doggie, but it wasn’t the same without the deeper penetration and the spots D had hit. Eventually I tired of this and got on top like usual. But my clit was a little raw after all that usage, so I tried for a vaginal orgasm, to no avail. I finally told him I wasn’t going to be able to come from sex with him. This only made him more determined to get me off, until he finally came by himself.
As I lied there frustrated at my lack of orgasm from sex next to my emotional husband, I contemplated the clear distinction that had just been made between sex with Dylan and sex at home. All I could wonder was whether I would get to be with Dylan again. I was infatuated with him. I loved having someone sexually skilled like that doing their thing to me. Having discovered my vaginal orgasm, now I was craving them. I wanted to see how in-sync and good at sex we could get. And how long we could go for. And how many times I could come with him. And I really wanted to try Reverse Cowgirl with a penis angle that worked for it.
But in the end I wouldn’t have to figure out how I felt about Dylan or how long I could keep fucking him. It soon became clear I wasn’t going to get another crack at it with Dylan. He became distant over text and eventually told me he was uneasy with being involved with a married woman. It hurt, but I understood and the warning signs were there from the start.
I’ve seen Dylan a total of four times since that memorable evening. The first was a few months after it ended. I had just gotten a wax on my lunch break and ran into him on the way back to work. Nothing happened, but I spent the rest of the day imagining showing him my freshly-waxed pussy and fantasizing about what he would do to it. That winter I saw him at a bar. We made eye contact, but I was there with my husband, so we played it cool. (My husband recognized him and later said he nearly went up and thanked him for fucking his wide so well.) Third time was years later when I’d had a kid and was with my family. We smiled at each other in passing on the street. I liked to imagine he thought “Hey, I’ve come inside that mom.” And the last time was a couple years after that when we ran into each other taking our kids trick-or-treating. He flashed that same troublemaking grin at me that had compelled me to fuck him a second time years earlier. I spent the rest of trick-or-treating that night totally wet with memories of what he had gotten up to, enjoying my little secret.
I came out of the affair with a major ego boost, some new tricks in bed, a new approach to sex, new knowledge about my body, and some white-hot fantastic memories. I’ll still daydream about sex with Dylan sometimes, and I’ve definitely revisited it often in bed when I need to be pushed over the edge. Despite teasing from my husband, I’ve always been proud of going after and getting what I wanted.
My husband and I started couples counseling shortly thereafter and ultimately decided to stay together and work on things. Even with the help of a therapist, it would be a bumpy road for us, as this would not be the last time I enjoyed myself outside of my marriage. I wasn’t surprised that I found myself involved with someone else. The surprise was how quickly this would follow my fling with Dylan…
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/aarfpg/my_first_affair_the_soccer_player_part_ii