S
Sarah_56
Guest
I responded to a 'game' thread in a forum here, and talked with a man on a similar theme, and it reminded me of my first and ony full-blown extra-marital affair - which ended badly, in chaos and confusion and emotional pain that thankfully has faded with the years but that still leaves me cautious despite how sexually open I am in here.
And being me, I wrote it down: and here is my memory, o fhow it began - though not of how it ended because that ws not fun.
I hope you enjoy me.
My affair
I had an affair.
It was years ago, and a stupid thing to do.
I was happily married, with two young childrem, a successful though demanding career. I was very much loved by my husband, and sexually desired as well as satisfied by him. But I felt I had missed out on something - that I was inadequate. To understand this you would have to know and understand my background, but I will not go into that here - let us just accept that I had reason to feel plain and physically unattractive, and still do. My husband had been my first boyfriend, and in my mind men never looked at me as a woman - with physical desire - and that ate away at me, so that I wanted to prove that I could be attractive to men other than just to my husband - probably a common feeling and a dangerous one.
It was at a time when my husband and I were both separated often by our work - travelling internationally with schedules that sometimes did not coincide for weeks at a a time. Mobile phone charges internationally were costly then, and the internet was not quite so free as it is now, so we kept in touch via a chat program called ICQ. It facilitated live real time chat by text. You could also chat with random people, and through simple ‘chat rooms’, and I started to do so.
I met a very nice man through the chat program. He was interested in me as a person - asked all sorts of things about me, found me fascinating and funny, responded to my jokes, sympathized with my worries and problems, shared with me details of our lives and families and hopes and dreams. There was never anything sexual about it - nor even really anything other than a fascinating man, fascinated by me - but I found it intense. I checked many times each day to see if there might be a message from him, an was disappointed when there wasn’t - we even had an arguent about it, which we then resolved in a way that strengthened our mutual bond of liking and trust - and intimacy, in the sense of the word that is not sexual.
One day I mentioned to him that I was to speak at a conference in an English city - and he, amazingly, was to visit that same conference. I was surprised, as his work had no connection with mine nor with the theme of the conference, and I had doubts that maybe he was simply using this as an excuse to meet in real life - but he was living in Washington DC, a highly paid financial consultant, and even the suspicion that he might actually fly all the way to England just to see me was intoxicatingly flattering - though of course I denied to myself that any such thing might be true, and convinced myself that it was simple coincidence, a nice man who was friendly and had surely no interest in me other than as a casual acquaintance with whom it might be nice to share a coffee.
In the end our paths did not cross at the conference (surprise!) but we arranged to meet ‘for coffee’ at his hotel. He was indeed fascinating - mesmerising - and fascinated by me to an extent that almost literally took my breath away - genuinely interested, sincerely so, attentive and nice - and safe, reassuringly never taking our conversation anywhere near the sexual thoughts - suspicions, hopes - that my own mind entertained despite my efforts not to.
He had some music he thought I would like,but it was on a portable CD player he had left in his room. So we went up to his room, and shared one headphone earplug each, and listened to it together, our heads close because of the earphones. I did indeed like it - it remains one of my favourite tunes even now - and we danced, at first casually, laughing, but then together, close.
I had worn a simple short torn-denim skirt and a sleeveless white t-shirt top: something in which I knew I looked good (I have good legs..) but also casual, not too showy, carefully chosen to be flattering but not overtly sexy. As we danced, he raied my arms so they were above my head - as one dances in a crowded disco, arms raised, swaying, twisting- and I felt sexy, incredibly so - like a sex goddess, like a disco star. And he ran his hands, softly, up and down my sides and my upraised bare arms - each stroke eliciting the most intense sensual thrill and leaving a tingling trail of unmistakable arousal. And on one upward sweep of his hands, he did something I now think must have been a practised move - in fact I suspect the whole thing was a choreographed, practised move - the whole affair probably was. With my arms upraised and my body swaying sensually close to his, on one upward sweep his hands lodged under the hem of my sleeveless skimpy top and caught it and raised it, slipping it effortlessly up my arms and off, so that I was bared down to my waist. It was an incredibly erotic move - had I been a historical novel heroine I would have swooned – and he bent his head and suckled at one nipple, sucking it fully but gently into his mouth. And I kept my arms raised, as he sucked at my breast - and as he wrestled off his pants, and laid me on my back, and tugged my panties down and off, and parted my thighs, and rucked my denim skirt up like a belt above my waist - I laid as I had danced, with my arms upstretched above my head, my whole body open to him, bared, exposed. And he positioned hismelf and I closed my eyes and bit my lip and fought back the shame, the guilt, the anxiety, and my cunt welcomed his cock in wetly and easily until he filled me so full of cock that I felt like a virgin on my first time and I orgasmed almost straight away, and then he fucked me - hard and deep and for a long long time, until he came, in me, after I had orgasmed several times.
That is how it began - my first and only full-blown extra-marital affair.
And being me, I wrote it down: and here is my memory, o fhow it began - though not of how it ended because that ws not fun.
I hope you enjoy me.
My affair
I had an affair.
It was years ago, and a stupid thing to do.
I was happily married, with two young childrem, a successful though demanding career. I was very much loved by my husband, and sexually desired as well as satisfied by him. But I felt I had missed out on something - that I was inadequate. To understand this you would have to know and understand my background, but I will not go into that here - let us just accept that I had reason to feel plain and physically unattractive, and still do. My husband had been my first boyfriend, and in my mind men never looked at me as a woman - with physical desire - and that ate away at me, so that I wanted to prove that I could be attractive to men other than just to my husband - probably a common feeling and a dangerous one.
It was at a time when my husband and I were both separated often by our work - travelling internationally with schedules that sometimes did not coincide for weeks at a a time. Mobile phone charges internationally were costly then, and the internet was not quite so free as it is now, so we kept in touch via a chat program called ICQ. It facilitated live real time chat by text. You could also chat with random people, and through simple ‘chat rooms’, and I started to do so.
I met a very nice man through the chat program. He was interested in me as a person - asked all sorts of things about me, found me fascinating and funny, responded to my jokes, sympathized with my worries and problems, shared with me details of our lives and families and hopes and dreams. There was never anything sexual about it - nor even really anything other than a fascinating man, fascinated by me - but I found it intense. I checked many times each day to see if there might be a message from him, an was disappointed when there wasn’t - we even had an arguent about it, which we then resolved in a way that strengthened our mutual bond of liking and trust - and intimacy, in the sense of the word that is not sexual.
One day I mentioned to him that I was to speak at a conference in an English city - and he, amazingly, was to visit that same conference. I was surprised, as his work had no connection with mine nor with the theme of the conference, and I had doubts that maybe he was simply using this as an excuse to meet in real life - but he was living in Washington DC, a highly paid financial consultant, and even the suspicion that he might actually fly all the way to England just to see me was intoxicatingly flattering - though of course I denied to myself that any such thing might be true, and convinced myself that it was simple coincidence, a nice man who was friendly and had surely no interest in me other than as a casual acquaintance with whom it might be nice to share a coffee.
In the end our paths did not cross at the conference (surprise!) but we arranged to meet ‘for coffee’ at his hotel. He was indeed fascinating - mesmerising - and fascinated by me to an extent that almost literally took my breath away - genuinely interested, sincerely so, attentive and nice - and safe, reassuringly never taking our conversation anywhere near the sexual thoughts - suspicions, hopes - that my own mind entertained despite my efforts not to.
He had some music he thought I would like,but it was on a portable CD player he had left in his room. So we went up to his room, and shared one headphone earplug each, and listened to it together, our heads close because of the earphones. I did indeed like it - it remains one of my favourite tunes even now - and we danced, at first casually, laughing, but then together, close.
I had worn a simple short torn-denim skirt and a sleeveless white t-shirt top: something in which I knew I looked good (I have good legs..) but also casual, not too showy, carefully chosen to be flattering but not overtly sexy. As we danced, he raied my arms so they were above my head - as one dances in a crowded disco, arms raised, swaying, twisting- and I felt sexy, incredibly so - like a sex goddess, like a disco star. And he ran his hands, softly, up and down my sides and my upraised bare arms - each stroke eliciting the most intense sensual thrill and leaving a tingling trail of unmistakable arousal. And on one upward sweep of his hands, he did something I now think must have been a practised move - in fact I suspect the whole thing was a choreographed, practised move - the whole affair probably was. With my arms upraised and my body swaying sensually close to his, on one upward sweep his hands lodged under the hem of my sleeveless skimpy top and caught it and raised it, slipping it effortlessly up my arms and off, so that I was bared down to my waist. It was an incredibly erotic move - had I been a historical novel heroine I would have swooned – and he bent his head and suckled at one nipple, sucking it fully but gently into his mouth. And I kept my arms raised, as he sucked at my breast - and as he wrestled off his pants, and laid me on my back, and tugged my panties down and off, and parted my thighs, and rucked my denim skirt up like a belt above my waist - I laid as I had danced, with my arms upstretched above my head, my whole body open to him, bared, exposed. And he positioned hismelf and I closed my eyes and bit my lip and fought back the shame, the guilt, the anxiety, and my cunt welcomed his cock in wetly and easily until he filled me so full of cock that I felt like a virgin on my first time and I orgasmed almost straight away, and then he fucked me - hard and deep and for a long long time, until he came, in me, after I had orgasmed several times.
That is how it began - my first and only full-blown extra-marital affair.
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