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From: "Pretty Kate" <pkesales@singate.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Affair Begins (M/F)
Date: Sat, 5 Aug 2000 23:10:06 -0400
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I entered the bookstore and immediately felt my heart in my throat. Did he
get the email I sent him on Friday telling him I'd be here on Sunday? Would
he get the subtle hints I'd dropped about wanting to see him there? I
straightened my favorite dress, a long purple gown that enhanced my sinuous
frame. It plunged softly in the front to reveal my healthy, full c-cup
breasts. I tried to catch my breath as I made my way to the magazine rack,
the first place I always go.
I wasn't sure how to act. I'd never had an affair before. In my four
years of marriage, the thought never crossed my mind. Until now. David and
I had grown distant in the past six months and though I insisted almost
daily, he flatly refused to see a counselor or to talk about our problems.
I loved my husband, but every time I'd look into his brown eyes lately, they
were colder and further disconnected. We had never had much in common in
the first place. It didn't bother me when we married, but it was all I
could think about now. Since we had no children, there really wasn't much
holding us together. Our marriage was hanging by a fine, thin thread.
Russell was nothing like David. In fact, he was almost his exact opposite.
His sun-tinged blond hair formed a brilliant halo around his face on our
many strolls through the park where we met. His blue eyes were playful,
with tiny crinkles at each side and slight shadows underneath them. He was
an artist and spent his free time in the private waterfront park that was
only footsteps from my house. It gave him inspiration, he said, to see so
many kinds of people from all different walks of life just wandering about
such a beautiful place all day. He was a people-watcher and that was how we
met.
One afternoon I ran to the park crying after a fight with David. He was
flying to Toronto on another unexpected business meeting that would take him
away for two weeks. I guess I should have learned to expect all the
unexpected trips after six years of waiting for him. I kept telling myself
that one day he'd put us first. I should have known better, when, after our
wedding, he cut our honeymoon short to make yet another business trip. We
were in Hawaii for god's sake! He's an electrical engineer for an
international construction company. I spent the last week of our honeymoon
combing the beach for shells all alone as I watched other newlyweds walk
hand in hand every day.
The day I met Russ, David was canceling yet another promise he'd made. We
had planned a week at our beach house and the day before we were supposed to
go, he announced that he wouldn't be able to make it. While I was upset,
the most hurtful part was the last thing he'd said to me before leaving, "We
wouldn't even have the beach house if I didn't work this hard."
Those words hung over me like a dark rain cloud. Even after he was gone,
the air in the house felt so tense. He was right about his job. When I
agreed to marry him, I also agreed to stay home full time and eventually
care for any children that might come along. David had pressed me about
kids for the first two years of marriage. I told him that I didn't want to
be a single parent. That shut down his arguments, but also his feelings.
By the third year of our marriage, he was working more than ever before.
The tiny shreds of romance that had barely existed before were erased and
replaced by dinners for one and sleeping by myself. I was the loneliest
person in the world.
Then along came Russell. He spotted me crying on a bench in the
sun-drenched park. He sat down next to me and put his arm around me. For a
second, I hoped it was David, coming to comfort me and promise that our trip
to the beach house was still on. When I looked up, I saw a thatch of blond
hair that didn't match my husband's dark brown. I was startled.
"The sky's the only thing that's allowed to be blue around here," he said
smiling. He pulled a paint covered rag from his pocket to offer me, then
looked at it, "This won't do."
I started to laugh. He looked at me with a certain "mission accomplished"
look. I eased up after he told me his name and who he was. Our
conversation seemed so natural. I didn't feel the least bit insecure around
him. He was so comfortable to be with. We spent three hours talking about
everything, including our spouses and then I noticed the sun was setting.
He invited me to dinner. I was too scared. Then he offered me his email
address. I took it and hurried home. I walked into an empty, dark house.
I quickly regretted my haste to dismiss his invitation. So I sat down and
emailed him.
We decided that lunch was a less-threatening possibility, though we were
quick to acknowledge our attraction. It was intense. Every time I saw him,
my heart felt like it would burst out of my chest and my panties were always
sticky with hot desire. It was all I could do to keep my hands from sliding
into his pants and grabbing his cock. We always kept things on the
friendly, non-sexual level, but the stinging passion that surged underneath
our words was always less than an overt look away from clothes-ripping sex.
The only time we allowed our feelings to come out was during our emails
back and forth. We danced around the obvious for a few months, until one
day, he blurted out at the end of an email, "I want you so badly." I
remember going over his emails, again, and again. I looked at those words
and I just turned completely hot inside. My cheeks were flush as I
responded. I didn't want to seem too excited, at the same time, I needed
for him to know how I felt. I dashed off something about going to the
bookstore on Sunday and that I'd be there for quite awhile.
Now here I was. I made my way to the magazines with a slow, searching
step. I slipped past the bestseller list, then past the books of local
interest. When I got to the magazine rack, I peered around with caution.
My heart sank. He wasn't there. I feigned disinterest. I started to look
upon the magazines intently, as if I was searching for something important.
As I bent over, I caught a breeze of my scent, patchouli. He loved the
smell of it and told me each time we saw each other. Today, I was
practically drowning in it. I grabbed a few magazines off the rack, then
remembered a book I promised to get for a friend. I dropped the magazines
on the wooden-plank benches by the racks and headed toward the information
desk. Then I saw it.
It was his shoe; a beat up brown-leather docksider slipped over his size-12
feet. My eyes traveled upwards to the site of his long, hairy leg. He was
sitting crouched over in a one of the wooden chairs, reading a book. I knew
that two steps closer and he would see me or perhaps catch my scent. My
heart felt suspended in time. It didn't seem to beat and I could hear no
breath coming from my mouth. If I approached him now, there was no turning
back. I knew what he expected, he knew what I needed.
Before I could turn back, he looked up. "Hi."
"What are you reading?" I stammered out.
"Hemingway. He's the greatest." His eyes focused in on mine, then he took
one long, lusting glance at my figure. He pulled a chair next to his over
and offered it to me. I sat down and took a long, drawn breath. I had been
waiting to do that for an eternity.
"Did you get my--"
"Why do you think I'm here?" His smile broadened as he reached over and
put his hand on my knee. I could see his wedding band.
"Would you like to get some coffee? I believe the caf will have a free
table for us."
"It's too bright in here. Don't you think?"
It did seem a bit over-lit. "What else do you have in mind?"
"Let's go to my cave. It's only a few minutes from here."
He was referring to his studio. He had a small one on a state-owned piece
of waterfront not far from the park. He talked of it often and would always
extend me an invitation. I was always too nervous to go. I wanted to go.
"You drive?"
He dropped his book and we practically ran for the door. As we stepped out
of the store into the daylight, he slipped his arm around my waist. It felt
so good and safe.
I couldn't help myself when we got into his small, tan car. I reached over
and kissed him with such a longing, I thought I'd stolen all the breath from
his body. He looked a happily surprised. I then sat back in my seat and
put my hand on his hairy, well-defined thigh. He was wearing shorts and it
was almost October!
We were at his studio in a few minutes. It was a small concrete building,
a salt-box style abode with four windows and a door. It was small, but it
had a wonderful panorama view of the river and the bay it was planted in
between. Once a state office had been given to the arts community for
struggling artists. He had planted flowers all around it, including my
favorite, daisies.
His arm was around my waist again as he led me to the door. As we opened
the door, he reached down to pluck a small, yellow daisy and placed it in my
hair. "You have great hair," he said smoothing my short reddish-brown
curls.
I looked around the room that was covered in paint, pictures and art
supplies. I saw a futon in the corner. "So, what do you want?" He
whispered.
"To fuck you."
I boldly took his hand and pulled him along behind me. I dropped onto the
futon and grabbed at his side and swiveled his hips around and unbuttoned
his shorts. His cock was already a hard, throbbing rod that demanded my
attention. I loved sucking cock, but it had been so long, I was worried I
wouldn't be good enough. Then I decided to just go for it.
I took his seven inches into my hot mouth. It felt so warm and tasted so
manly. I started slowly, then I found his gorgeous balls and started to rub
them. He was swaying gently as I tugged them and drew his thick manhood
deeply into my throat. I could feel my clit swelling with anticipation as
my pussy got wetter and wetter. I started to rub that great spot between
his balls and his ass and that's when he let out a loud groan. It was
primal and full of pleasure.
He could barely speak, but I heard him say, "I want to let go inside you."
He softly pushed me back onto the mattress and lifted my dress. I wasn't
wearing any panties. He slid my dress up past my neck, then he lifted it
over my head. I gasped as he began to caress my breast while he kissed my
neck and mouth. He had a few whiskers and the sensation of them rubbing
against my ear nearly sent me over the edge. When he tickled my ear with
his tongue and blew steamy breaths inside it, I became dizzy. Then his
mouth moved further south on my tingling body.
He devoured my breasts with his mouth and then worked his way downward. He
circled my belly button with his delicious tongue, making me giggle. Then
he threw my legs over his shoulders and put his face into my honey pot. He
swirled his tongue across my clit, then slide his finger inside me. As he
slid it in and out, he continued to lap at my juiciness. I felt sensations
of joy I hadn't known in a long time. My ass clenched tightly and I
breathed rhythmically. When I finally came, it was a beautiful song.
He climbed on top of me, still hard. Then he kissed me and I savored the
sweet taste I left on his lips. He turned me over and told me to get on my
knees. I complied without question. In a few seconds, I was taking his
length with wild abandon.
As he pushed into me, he held my waist with one hand and fingered my clit
with the other. In a short time, I felt myself coming again. I squeezed my
pussy tightly around his burning cock and fucked him for all I was worth. I
had three orgasms before he finally had his. His cum was warm and filled me
completely. As we crashed down to the mattress, I could feel it dripping
down my thigh.
He pulled me close to him and started to rub my hair. God how I loved
that! He kissed the back of my neck as we spooned. I felt so completely
exhausted and alert at the same time. My body was alive again! When he
pulled a down comforter over us, I turned toward him to see his face.
Without missing a beat, he slipped his finger in his mouth, moistened it,
then started rubbing my excited clit again.
I had two more orgasms. After, he kissed me again and we fell asleep in
each other's arms. I didn't want it to end.
We got up a few hours later. It was getting dark. I didn't want to leave
him. I didn't have to leave him. There was no one to return to at home, as
usual. And his wife was away as well. So we stopped by our houses and
gathered up a few things and drove to the beach. We arrived just in time to
watch the sun sink into the ocean and kiss our first kiss at our special,
new getaway.
Brought to you by: http://www.sinstory.com
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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