Evening

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I lay back on my bed – our bed – the warm afterglow still infusing my body and spirit. I am naked, spent, wanting absolutely nothing more in the present moment as I sift through the events of the past few precious, exciting hours. My nipples harden as I close my eyes and recall his cock, so glorious in its impossible hardness, droplets pulled down by gravity from the tip of his beautiful manhood, the viscous fluid seemingly suspended in mid-air between us by a string of its own making. A tangible manifestation of his desire, complementing his erection. My heart begins to pound again as if he were still here. God how I wish he were, how I wish I could taste his lips, his mouth, his manhood so hard for me; yes, me.Thoughts dart suddenly to my dear husband, Colin. A pang of guilt hits me and begins to rise up, threatening to destroy the moment and kidnap my heart, my soul. My feelings, so strong for my lover, fight with my fierce love for Colin. Love, but not lust. Only my lover can satisfy the need, the intense, screaming feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever the text icon lights up on my hidden app. A feeling that, when our next tryst has been arranged, becomes so all-consuming that it overwhelms everything. I literally cannot focus. Everything swims before my eyes. I have to fight hard to concentrate on what Colin bahis şirketleri or the kids are saying to me, every nerve ending running toward the release that only Darren can give me.It started innocently enough. Fifteen years of marriage, fifteen wonderful years, and yet something had changed. I’m certain that neither of us anticipated it happening. It was gradual. The sex became more routine, less frequent. No one’s fault. Everyone’s fault. Nature, perhaps. I began, as so many no doubt do, to browse online, discovering a secret wonderland of eroticism and beauty. I found the images and videos terribly exciting at first, and brought myself to many an orgasm, legs hooked over the arms of the chair in front of my desk. Over time, however, the novelty faded, and the fare seemed to have a particular sameness, which failed to arouse me as intensely. I needed more.All this time, Colin and I continued to have sex, and when it was good, it was very good. But those moments were becoming increasingly rare, and I sensed that he, too, was growing more and more dissatisfied. But still we soldiered on, as you’re supposed to do, I guess. My love for him remained steadfast; our times outside of the bedroom were wonderful. And yet as the days and months went by, I felt an emptiness begin to well up inside me. My hunger was becoming bahis firmaları undeniable. And so I progressed, setting up a profile on a site for like-minded people At first I was motivated by curiosity and the need to indulge fantasies more directly. I wasn’t looking, or ready, to cheat. That was a line I couldn’t cross.And then I met Darren. That wasn’t his online name, of course. I found that out in due time. It started with a little harmless flirting and quickly progressed to late night and mid-day chats. They started innocently enough, with each of us opening up gradually about ourselves and our lives. Looking back, I now realize that the intimacy developing between us in those conversations was in many ways worse than the naughty talk. I was exposing myself to him, not in a physical but in an emotional way. And he to me. We were, it turned out, in similar situations. Neither ready to cheat physically, but after a few months, both of us were cheating emotionally. I began to think about him during the day, and in the evening, and when pinned beneath my husband as he fucked me as furiously as he knew how to do at this point in our marriage.It was I who made the first move. I proposed coffee. Innocent enough. He hesitated at first, and then agreed. The spark when we met at that out-of-the-way little indie shop kaçak bahis siteleri on the other side of the university was shocking to me. As we sat across the table from one another my heart was literally racing and I’m sure I was flushed. It was all I could do to keep my hands from shaking and spilling the coffee. I felt thrilled and as young as the students in the shop. Alive, wanted, attractive, sexy. He gave me a demure peck on the cheek in the parking lot. I ran to our bedroom and screamed his name as I came.I knew right then that I had to have him.Our first meeting was at a hotel. I will never forget how he undressed me. Slowly, taking time to pet, kiss, smell, lick, and gaze into my eyes. He told me how sexy I was, and how much I turned him on. When he lowered his pants, his body revealed the truth of that statement. He was hard, so hard – for me. I felt sexier than I can remember being in a long, long time. His tongue brought me to orgasm after orgasm. The morning stretched into afternoon, as I took him in my mouth, tentatively at first and then more hungrily. A secret part of me was being unlocked, something that I thought was dead.And yet, there was one more boundary to cross. I wanted this more than anything, and realized that I was willing to risk everything for it, but until I parted my legs and begged him to take me, I had deceived myself into thinking I hadn’t really betrayed my marriage. And so, when that moment came, it was a swirl of emotions – raw desire, the need for validation, guilt, a touch of self-reproach, an adrenaline rush.

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