Bits On The Side

Posted in: Affairs | Crushes | Office Tales | Romance

This is not a sensational story. There is no extreme sex or outlandish characters. It’s a simple story of a frequent occurrence between fairly ordinary people; me, a forty year old married woman and Jack a forty five year old married man. Yes, it’s about an affair. It’s about the reasons why they happen, it’s about the emotional as much as the physical aspects and it’s about the, possible, inevitability of affairs, such as mine, increasing enormously in the twenty tens and teens of this century. But at its heart its about loving two people at the same time! Bits on the Side; An anatomy of an Affair. By Catherine Moore aka to her friends as Cat * I grunted as it slid into me, but then I often do. In fact I suspect that most women do. After all, it is one of the loveliest feelings anyone, well any female at least I’m not sure about men, can experience: a cock slipping up you that is. I was on my side facing away from him. It was fairly late, nearly midnight, I was tired and he had been drinking. Not heavily to the point of being drunk or performance inhibiting, but to the level where inhibitions are reduced and ambitions are increased. I knew that would mean that he would want a bloody good shag and that he would be unlikely to take no for an answer. So I didn’t say no and we did have a bloody good shag. But then that is the role of a wife. I always sleep naked. I had gone to bed after News at Ten, when I had imagined the gorgeous Julie Etchingham and the ridiculous James Mates fucking on that big desk they now use as part of the set. I hadn’t masturbated, as I often do when Richard is due to be home late, but had quickly fallen asleep. When I felt a hand cupping my breast I wasn’t sure who it was, James Mates, my husband or even the gorgeous Julie! I quickly realised it wasn’t her, though, when I felt an erection pressing against my bum. “It’s late,” I groaned as he squeezed my breasts and gently pinched my nipple. “Yes darling, but never too late for this,” he went on pushing his cock against my bum. “Oh Richard,” “Oh Cat,” he mimicked. He started to push his cock between my legs. I opened them a little to give him easier access. Although I wasn’t one hundred per cent up for such late night sex when I had to be up early to get to work, I had never refused my husband and didn’t want to start now. I wasn’t that sort of wife. “Mmmmm nice,” he whispered as the tip of his cock found my lips. He slipped his other arm round me and ran that down my stomach onto the patch of neatly trimmed pubes which were shaped similar to, but not quite, a landing strip, a fashion I had only recently learned about. “I like that,” he murmured stroking me there. He pushed it further and found my clit, which is quite pronounced and easy to find for the folds are not deep. My body shuddered with the surge of sexual feelings. I assume that made me wet for he then slid effortlessly into me making me grunt. ++ “Take it off.” “No, I can’t here.” “Why not, no one will see.” “What if someone comes along.” “Just pull your top up, after all darling, your tits aren’t that big,” Jack smiled playfully flicking one with his fingertip. That was true, but they are a respectable 35 D or so, a proper handful as Richard often terms them. I smiled. We were in Jack’s car. It was early evening after work and he had given me a lift, as he sometimes did when he was in the office at the end of the day. Being the Client Service Director of the Marketing Agency for which I worked part time, that wasn’t very often, probably once a week on average, but when he was, he gave me a lift and we snogged in his car. He hadn’t been in the office when I left work for about ten days or so for he had been away on business. That meant that not only had we not had our evening snogs in the car, but also that we hadn’t had sex for some time, too long for sure. In fact we hadn’t ‘slept’ together for getting on for a month for I had been on holiday just before his business trip. We had found a very secluded spot, which was on our way home, we didn’t live far apart. We had stopped there several times and no one had ever come along and we hadn’t been disturbed so we had become more adventurous and recently had started getting into the back seat of his Merc. “God I’ve missed you Cat,” he whispered just before we kissed. He was a good kisser, probably better than Richard I thought, immediately admonishing myself for making the sort comparison a mistress should never make between her lover and her husband. He pushed me back into the corner of the big, leather seat. His mouth was on mine, his hand went to my breast and I felt his erection pressing against the outside of my upper leg. We kissed deeply, it was exciting and enjoyable. His hand went into my shoulder length, ash blond hair and he ruffled that as I stroked the side of his smooth face. He always felt and smelt so nice, things I had recently found I like in a man. As I had no client meetings scheduled for that day I was not wearing a suit, my normal business garb. I wasn’t ‘dressed down’ for the agency had been there, tried that and had reverted. We did, though, have a ‘relaxed’ dress code which precluded tee shirts, jeans, shorts and that sort of thing. It was largely left to the discretion of the staff for the management stressed ‘Dress so that if necessary you could meet a client.’ Though well intentioned that announcement produced a torrent of emails recommending what many of us female staff should wear for particular clients, with black lingerie, basques and stockings and, of course, nothing featuring highly for all. A tight or wet tee shirt was suggested a couple of times for me. PC hadn’t arrived at our agency. I was wearing a pink, vee necked, cashmere sweater with a black, knee length, pleated skirt. Smart yet relaxed was how I thought I looked and was how I felt. The skirt, though not flared, was fairly loose and as Jack pushed me back in the seat so it, of course, rode up my thighs. Despite it being mid October, the weather was still quite warm and as Richard and I had just returned from a week in our house in Florida, my legs were nicely tanned so I wasn’t wearing tights. As our kiss progressed so his hand had slid inside my sweater. It felt good as he firstly caressed my boob through my bra then, after easing it out from its restraining cup, the bare skin and my nipples. That’s when Jack had said “Take it off.” It’s also when I, without a great deal of conviction, had demurred. It was also when after demurring to salve my respectability, I reached round behind me, unclipped the bra, removed it and pushed it into my bag. The soft cashmere felt nice on my tits. We kissed more as he fondled my boobs and I undid his shirt so I could feel his fairly hairy chest with my fingers. He rolled my sweater up and pushed his chest against me; that felt good. He kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. His hand went up my skirt and mine went to his erection. We were very worked up and were getting carried away. His hand was between my legs rubbing my clit and lips, mine had fumbled inside the waist band of his trousers and had found his erection. He had undone his belt, I had pulled his zip down. “I have to fuck you Cat,” he groaned thrusting his cock into the surrogate pussy I was making with my hand. “We can’t here,” I moaned back wishing that we could. We had made each other cum with our fingers and once with our mouths in his car, but we had never had full sex in it. Summer affairs with the long light evenings aren’t that conducive to outside sex and we had mainly used hotels for our pleasures. “It’s ok, it’s safe,” he retorted pulling on the waist band of my panties. “It’s not, anyone could come along.” “We would see their lights miles away,” he pointed out. I then realised that it was the first time we had been in the car here in the dark, for the clocks had just gone back the previous weekend. We had only started the affair in May so we hadn’t had the opportunity for ‘snogging in the dark.’ As he continued pulling on my panties, I slowly raised
m
y bum from the seat. They slid easily down my legs and off. They joined my bra in my bag. Although awkward, although complicated and although requiring a level of dexterity I probably no longer had, we had an exciting and very satisfying fuck in his car. ++ I had recently gone back to work. We didn’t need the money. Richard was very successful and was paid a large salary and huge bonuses. We had a nice house in Barnsbury, North London, a holiday home in Florida, miles and miles away from Disney, and a half share in a villa in Tuscany. We both drove nice cars, I had all the clothes and other female goodies and playthings I wanted and I had help in the house. We had two children who were both doing well at school preparing to go on to university, we loved each other and we were faithful. Well I think we were, even though I had suspicions that on his very frequent business trips he strayed. As a corporate lawyer working mainly on big mergers and acquisitions there was ample opportunity and I knew full well that the New York office of their firm did, at times, employ hookers for would be clients. Nevertheless we got on well together. His job was terrifically demanding; murderous hours, an incredible overseas, mainly the US, travelling schedule, lots of entertaining and functions and ‘closings’ on deals that often went on well into the wee hours. I was awfully impressed with the way that he handled his work. He was a great father even managing to schedule attendance at the more important school events of both our son and daughter and he never forgot birthdays or our anniversary; he was a very effective organiser. I had recently started golf lessons. I had recently started going to the gym. I had recently rejoined my tennis club. Yes I was bored. I was lonely. Selfish as it may seem, I wanted more from life than being a ‘lady who lunches! And on top of all that, I was approaching forty. + “I’ll give you a lift,” Jack had said one evening as the Marketing Research group meeting finished up around seven thirty. He dropped me at Kings Cross station. A week or so later, when he found out where I lived, he gave me a lift all the way home. I went to dinner with him, another colleague from work and a man and a woman from a big client. He gave me a lift home. We talked a lot in the office, too much probably, he was so easy to talk to. My work brought me into frequent contact with him, but probably we both exploited that. We got on very well, I found him interesting, easy to talk and very attractive. “Look it’s fairly early, how about a drink?” He suggested one evening in early May when he was giving me a lift home. Of course I should have said no. Of course he shouldn’t even have asked the question. We were both married and in good relationships with children and all the other ‘fixtures and fittings’ that go with twenty year plus marriages. We only had one drink and then he took me home. He pulled up the discrete distance from my house where I had asked him to drop me the first time he had given me a lift. “It’s easier for you to go down the next road,” I had explained wondering if sub-consciously there were other reasons why I got him to drop me two hundred yards or so from my house? Richard came home early, well for him that is, around eight. I felt awful as we had a glass of wine and chatted as I prepared dinner. I felt slightly less guilty as the evening wore and we finished our customary bottle of wine, but I still felt as though I had to make something up to him when we went to bed. He seemed to enjoy me straddling him and fucking his brains out. “Ok for a drink tonight?” He asked the next time, about a week later, he gave me a lift. I genuinely meant to say no, but, and it’s hard to believe, I forgot and went along with his casual suggestion. After all, it was only a drink and he was married, a work colleague and, ultimately my boss. There was an atmosphere between us in the pub. We were both reserved, inhibited and, it seemed, reticent to open up. We discussed trivia, the conversation didn’t flow as it usually did. We didn’t stay long and hardly talked on the drive home. He stopped at the normal place, we looked at each other, both of us seeming to want to say something, but were loathe to do so and were hoping that the other would. “See you tomorrow then,” I said looking at him. “Yes Cat see you tomorrow,” Jack replied reaching out and touching the back of my hand. As he reached over the centre console I had momentarily thought that he was going to touch my breast. I am sure that I probably arched my back a little. There was a rarity for my husband that night. I gave him a blowjob, something that was usually reserved for holidays. Jack and I had another client dinner and again he took me home. It was dark when he pulled up in the usual place. He turned to look at me. Our eyes caught, I averted mine for a moment and then looked back, he was still staring at me. “Catherine,” he started. “Sorry Cat.” “Yes Jack,” I replied quietly “That’s ok, either will do, I don’t mind what you call me.” He didn’t respond for a moment or two, but then leaning across he took my hand. I didn’t stop him. “How would darling or baby sound?” He said very hesitantly, obviously realising how cheesy it was. I smiled “As long as it’s not babe or doll.” We looked at each other again and smiled. He lifted my hand and kissed it. “You can’t know how relieved I am at hearing that.” He leaned further across. His arm slid along the back of my seat and his hand fell onto my shoulder. He pulled on it. I went with the pressure and our faces moved very close. “So what would Cat say if she was kissed?” He asked me. I closed my eyes and said nothing. He kissed me. Soft, gentle, patient, caring and tender were the descriptions that came into my mind as our hands found the other’s neck and hair. We broke it and I rested my face on his shoulder. “I think she would say that she had better go now,” I said moving away. “Was I wrong to do that?” He asked. “No Jack, you weren’t.” “Well………..?” “Well what?” I replied pulling the sun visor down and looking in the vanity mirror checking my make up. “Well what now I suppose?” Jack said, sounding nowhere near his usual confident self. I was working very hard to remain calm and collected and not to show either the excitement or, the conflict I was feeling. Freshening my lip gloss I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “I’m not sure Jack that there is a what now,” I said realising that I probably was not making sense. “Isn’t there Cat? Isn’t there baby?” He said smiling. “I really don’t know.” “Would you like there to be?” He asked continuing the heavily guarded and somewhat convoluted discussion that really was saying ‘Shall we have an affair.’ That was a topic that must have been in both our minds for some time, but neither of us had so far, and didn’t seem now, to be able to confront head on and say those words. “Would I like there to be what?” “I think you know as well as I do Cat.” “Yes Jack I think I probably do.” “Well Cat?” I looked at him and smiling responded. “Well Jack?” We both laughed. “Look let’s stop beating around the bush shall we?” Jack said very seriously. I tried to lighten the mood, I was worried where it was going, I didn’t want to have to confront the big issue between us. “Oh I don’t know, I quite like beating around bushes.” “Well we seem to have been beating for quite some time haven’t we?” He responded not really reacting to my attempt at lightening the mood. “Yes I suppose we have.” His arm was still along the back of my seat. His hand dropped on my shoulder. He went to pull me to him. “Actually Jack, I think we may have done enough beating for this evening don’t you?” He sounded very calm when he replied. “Well actually Catherine I don’t think we have done anywhere enough beating tonight.” I laughed. “Look Jack I am so confused about this.” “So am I Cat. I don’t do affairs.” “Nor do I, ……. surprisingly.” “Sorry. I know you don’t.” “Thank you.” “So what then?” “Well you’re the boss, t

he Director of Client Service aren’t you,? I’m just a humble market researcher.” “Hardly humble.” “Ok, modest then.” “I’ll go with that.” “Look Jack,” I said taking hold of his hand and removing it from my shoulders, but still holding onto it.” “Yes Cat.” “Oh shit I don’t know.” “Nor do I?” “What I do know, though, is now is not the time.” “For what may I ask, I hope you’re not trying to lead me astray.” I laughed. “I’m sure you don’t need any leading,” I said, realising we were still holding hands. It actually felt nice. “It’s not the time for decisions or actions,” I said sounding, I thought, rather more assured than I felt. “Ok, but Cat, I think decisions do have to be made don’t you?” “Yes Jack. Yes I think they do.” Richard was away on business so I slept alone. Well not quite. In my mind, I ruefully realised, Jack was in that bed with me. Jack was holding me and kissing me and as I grunted when my vibrator slid up me it was his, not my husband’s cock, that fucked me. It wasn’t late, just after ten, five pm in New York. I wasn’t surprised then when the phone rang and it was Jack. I wasn’t surprised, but I was embarrassed and I did feel guilty. After all it’s not an every day occurrence for a wife to be chatting to her husband with a vibrator stuck up inside her. ++ I travelled to work on the train from Harpenden into Kings Cross. I got the Victoria Line and then walked from the station to the office. It wasn’t far. The journey gave me time to think and I needed to do that, badly. I was hugely attracted to Jack, of that there was no doubt. However, the level of that attraction scared me, the nature of it surprised me and the combination of the two confused me. I had rarely, if ever, since committing myself to Richard seriously fancied anyone. Ok I thought Brad Pitt was pretty tasty and, at times, I could easily have become a panty thrower at Eric Clapton, but in real life I didn’t have any strong feelings in that direction. Suddenly, I had those feelings for a man I worked with; I seriously fancied Jack and continuously through most days I imagined being with him and at most bedtimes I visualised making love to him. That scared me, but then I guess most of us are scared of the unknown and wary of new sensations. What was equally, if not more scary was that he clearly fancied me too. I didn’t know his circumstances well, but was aware that he was married with two children, both a little older than mine for they were at uni. Other people in the office who had met his wife at company dos, spoke well about her making me say ‘Sod it’ to myself, for I realised I was thinking how much easier it would be to have an affair with a right bitches husband than a nice woman’s! If the intensity of my feelings scared me, then the nature of them surprised me. I was as sure I loved Richard as I could be about anything. I had never had a moment’s doubt. But now I was experiencing similar feelings towards Jack. Had they have been singularly sexual that, I felt, would have been relatively easy to handle: either resist them or have a few fucks and get over them. That wasn’t the case though, for I wanted to be with him, to talk to him, to learn things about him. Unfortunately in some ways, my feelings of attraction towards him were not accompanied by anti feelings against Richard; I still loved him. The combination brought enormous confusion to my line of thinking. Was it possible, I kept wondering to love two men? “I hope I wasn’t out of order last night,” the email from Jack asked. “No, not at all,” I replied, looking up and down the long room to Jack’s glass walled office where I could see him hunched over his PC. “I hope you enjoyed it?” “Sort of yes.” “What do you mean, sort of?” “I enjoyed it at the time, but felt guilty after.” “I know what you mean, so did I?” “Yeah, I bet yr used 2 it.” “Y u say that?” “Big wheel in marketing, involved in arranging promotions, travel a lot, loads of entertaining.” “We aren’t all lechers.” “lol” “Hold on phone.” I sat back in my chair pretending to read from my screen, but my eyes were riveted on Jack walking around his office talking on the phone. He was wearing a pink shirt that probably was from Pink, I guessed and a blue striped tie. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, but had on lightweight blue trousers, which were fashionably fairly tight. He was tall, around six feet and looked to have a fine physique, there didn’t seem to be much spare flesh on him. He had quite long hair and overall looked trendy without going over the top and appearing to be trying to look too young. He carried, what I had learned to be, his age of forty five very well. And on top of all that he had a great bum. Putting all of that together with his intelligence, fairly vibrant and charismatic personality, empathetic and quite sensitive yet assertive manner made for a pretty good package, I thought. “Not all,” I typed as I watched him sit down, adding “Just most.” “But then I’m not most am I?” Quickly came back. “No” was all I could reasonably think of writing. He was still on the phone so I didn’t send anything else, after all it was becoming a little like the scene from Bridget Jones. I saw him hang up. “Cat, I have to go down to Bristol this evening straight from work,” I read, suddenly thinking he was going to ask me to go with him. I paniced at the thought not sure whether that would thrill me or scare me. Probably both. I continued reading the email. “I think you said your husband was away so I wondered if we could have dinner?” My heart leaped. “I don’t know, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I found myself typing. “But Cat we do need to talk, I am not used to this sort of thing and I am so confused,” came back his almost immediate and very simpatico response. I had neither, any arguments or, any will left to resist. “Yes, I suppose we do.” I was on edge all day as I waited for our ‘assignation’ as I was starting to view it in my mind. Jack went out and was in meetings in different parts of the building most of the day, though he did put in a number of brief appearances in his office. He totally ignored me, which with the way I was feeling was a good thing. The sense of our dinner being an assignation increased when, around four, I got a mail from him. “When I leave this evening you wait and I will text or mail you when the car park is clear, ok?” ++ I had called my son daughter and told them that I would be working late and would grab a bite in the office; I didn’t feel that it would be very wise to say I was going out to dinner either on business or with friends, I rarely did that. I told them what to do about making their dinner, they are both very capable like that, but suggested that if they wanted a take away that would be fine. Was I salving my conscience, I wondered. I had felt hugely nervous during the rest of the day. I had to keep checking my watch and as it got past five, I could hardly take my eyes off Jack’s office. Work was as good as impossible. Fortunately my job is pretty self-contained so I work alone and have little to do with most of my colleagues from a business point of view. I wasn’t therefore slacking or doing anything that someone else might notice. I had worried a bit over the last couple of weeks when I had seen some co workers watching me get into Jack’s car, but I hadn’t had any catty remarks made about it, well not yet at least. When I saw him walking out of his office at about five forty, most of the staff work until well after six even thought the official end time is five thirty, my heart started to pound and my nervousness increased enormously. I felt as if I was about to do something incredibly dangerous such as rob a bank, as opposed to get in a lift, go down to the car park and get into a colleague’s car. “Oh God Jack,” I said as he drove up the ramp onto the main road. “What?” “I felt so nervous, doing that?” “You’ve done it before.” “I know, but that was different.” We were in stationary traffic so he could turn and look at me. As our eyes met my pulses raced. ‘Shit
what’s happening?’ I thought as he reached across and squeezed my hand. “Just relax, it’s not as if we are doing or have done anything is it?” I smiled at him and continued holding his hand, which was resting on my leg nearer my stomach than my knee. I was wearing a crisp white shirt and a business suit. It was black, lightweight wool with a three button jacket and a pencil, knee length skirt. I was wearing dark, almost black tights and black patent leather mid height heeled shoes. His hand was right on the hem of my skirt with the edge of it touching my leg. “No but you know what offices are like Jack.” “Yes and that’s why I said about me phoning you. I guess in future we will have to do that sort of thing.” I looked at him and said, smiling. “In future Jack? Is there one?” He smiled back and squeezed my hand as he said. “Well my dear, that’s what we are going to talk about isn’t it?” ++ I was in his arms. Our mouths were clamped together. Our lips were squirming against each other and our tongues were plunging and probing. He was thrusting his body against mine and I was writhing against his. He had pushed me back against the wall in the reception area of the office and his hand had found my breasts, I had pushed them back against his hand. “Oh God Cat, I have wanted this for so long.” “Yes Jack, yes,” was all I could groan as he fiddled his hand inside my blouse. We kissed harder and more passionately; he was such a fervent and enthusiastic kisser. His lips and mouth roamed all over mine. He sucked my lips, licked inside them on my gums and teeth and kissed all over my chin and then down my neck. That made me tip my head back and arch my back a little pushing my breasts and the rest of my body more firmly against him. He was massively erect and that was pressing right against my pubic mound and up the centre of my stomach. He grabbed my bum and pulled me even more firmly against his cock. It felt wonderful. It was romantic, erotic, intimate and so fucking horny I could have so easily been made to cum. His hand with no further ceremony went up my skirt and right onto my bum, he squeezed that just as I fiddled my hand down between us and felt his erection through the thin wool of his suit trousers. We had returned to the office after dinner, it was only a few minutes from the restaurant. On just what pretext we had gone there I couldn’t remember for at dinner we had, effectively, agreed to have an affair and that had so excited me the rest of the meal became a blur. It kept going through my mind that it was now, not if he would fuck me, but when he would. I felt his hand going inside my tights. His other had slid into my bra and had scooped my right breast out of its cup. He had kissed that and sucked my nipple. His hand was on my bare bum inside the nylon of the tights, he was edging those down. The situation was so sordid, so wantonly wicked I was thinking as I revelled in the feel of the outline of his cock. My shirt was undone to the waist, both of my breasts were out of my bra, his hand was on the bare cheek of my bum, my tights were being slid down and I was holding his cock. At dinner when we had agreed to have an affair I had stopped thinking about the ‘if we would make love.’ In the situation we were now in, I realised that we were almost at the now of when we would make love. As he edged his fingers inside my tights round from my bum, past my hip, onto my tummy then down onto my pubes, something snapped. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It wasn’t how I imagined it. Where were the candles, where was the big double bed, the crisp white sheets, the champagne? It wasn’t in the plan for us to have sex like this, for him to have me in the reception of the office where we both worked. This was sheer lust. This would only be a fuck not us making love. “No Jack, no,” I said pulling away. “What?” “I can’t do this.” “Why Cat, why not?” He asked as I pulled away putting my breasts back into my bra. “Not here, not now Jack. It’s just wrong.” “You mean in the office, like this.” “Yes.” “I understand, I’m sorry.” “Oh Jack,” I replied softly, “There’s no need to be sorry, we were both to blame. I just don’t want it to be like this.” “I know, I realise that,” he said moving a respectable distance away as I did up my blouse, pulled my tights back into place and smoothed my skirt down. ++ ‘Sorry about earlier’ I read on my phone as I waited for the train at Kings Cross. ‘NP, it was good, but not the time or place.” ‘Agreeeed,’ came back making me realise the silly bugger was texting me from his car on the M4. ‘Be carefl in the car.’ ‘Wil do but had 2 cont u.’ ‘Thnx.’ ‘u ok’ ‘Yes fine @ Kings x waiting.’ ‘B carful this time of nite’ ‘yes I will, am a big girl tho.’ ‘mmmmm yes u r’ ‘now now.’ ‘sory’ ‘np lol’ ‘wen cat?’ ‘u choose’ ‘Lunch thursdy’ ‘yes where’ ‘how about the Ritz?’ ‘grate’ ‘talk soon sleep well’ ‘yes I will u too’ ‘unlikely for me’ ‘wy’ ‘lot on my mind’ ‘wot’ ‘u and us’ ‘no wot u mean bye’ ++ Jack, in the guise of my vibrator, fucked me very nicely just over an hour later. The next morning, though, preparing breakfast for the kids I regretted that simulated fuck. I regretted the dinner with Jack and, most of all I regretted almost having sex with him in the office. I realised I was regretting everything to do with him. I was feeling enormous pangs of guilt when I was with the children and, of course, even more so when I was with Richard. I felt ashamed of myself. Why was I doing it? I had good sex with my husband so it wasn’t that. I had a varied and enjoyable social life and I had numerous guys try to pull me at the gym and the tennis club, including a very tempting twenty two year old, so it wasn’t either, a need for more in my life or to boost my ego by being wanted. I hadn’t even started the affair and I was lying and making excuses to both my children and husband as well as friends, who I cancelled tennis games or going out with. And now to office colleagues as well about the lifts with Jack. Yes I had guilt, I had shame, I had remorse, I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t do it, but equally I think I knew that I would. Fuck it, if only I could find out why and what was driving me to contemplate an affair when I had all the things going for me in my marriage. ++ I didn’t work on Thursdays and assumed that was one of the reasons Jack had suggested that day. It meant waiting three whole days though. Three whole days before I would even see Jack as he was in Bristol until Wednesday, three whole days without seeing him, touching him smelling him and, I thought very guiltily, three whole days without fucking him. “I’m not too sure The Ritz is a good is a good idea,” I told him when he called me at the office the next day.” “Why not, the dining room is great, the food’s ok and the bedrooms Cat are fantastic.” “Yes I know.” “Have you stayed there then?” “Yes.” “With Richard, I hope.” “Yes of course,” I replied a bit shirtily adding “I’m not in the habit of staying in hotels with any one else.” “So I’m the exception am I?” “Yes very much so.” “Sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I shouldn’t have asked.” “No that’s fine.” “So why not The Ritz?” “It might be a little too public.” “How?” “Well Richard has many US clients and they might stay there and I know he’s had dinner there and maybe lunch. It’s too risky.” “Actually you’re right Cat, I could see people I know there and although you could easily be a client it could be awkward.” At the dinner when we had made the tacit agreement to have an affair we had agreed to meet and have lunch with no commitment. We both acknowledged that it was a complete diversion for us and that we should be at liberty to change our mind. But just in case, we had agreed, we would book a room. Hence, his nice suggestion of The Ritz. I was actually quite pleased that he suggested such a prestigious place for it indicated to me that he was not used to such, I smiled, ‘assignations.’ We discussed it at some length agreeing that a hotel was the mo

st appropriate place to meet and have lunch, but that it should not be one of the landmark places in London. In the end, we agreed to meet at a rather innocuous hotel, just off the M1 near Luton. ++ Our bodies moulded together so easily and naturally. We kissed, long and languidly, there was no need to hurry, we had the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening if necessary. We had both arrived by cab knowing that an essential aspect of our assignation would be alcohol. Not masses of it, but wine with lunch in the dining room and champagne with sex in the bedroom. I was incredibly nervous. I had been when getting ready at home, in the cab on the way and throughout lunch. Although the meal was fine I picked at it and couldn’t even remember what I had; the food was unimportant it was the company that was the focal point and what was going to happen after lunch that was the main agenda item. Although I hadn’t let my standards go completely with regard to the type of underwear that I normally wore, even after twenty years of marriage, I had recently found myself visiting lingerie websites; Lejaby, Figleaf, Bravissimo, Agent Provocateur, Janet Regar and the like. I had bought a small selection and feeling nervous and guilty in about equal parts I had slipped into all black, a bit obvious I know, but then I was wearing a black dress. There was a low cut bra, which almost showed my areola and through it did show the indentations of my rather obvious nipples, which always look as though I am aroused. I may well be, but the truth is I simply have protruding nipples. A black thong and as an added bonus to the scenario of the ‘assignation’ long, lacy topped black hold-ups. It really was underwear to be undressed in, I thought as I modelled it for the full length mirror in my bedroom. That did give me yet a further surge of guilt; it felt so awful dressing up in this obvious ‘mistress’ underwear in the bedroom I shared with my husband to go to share a hotel room with my lover. My lover, my fucking lover, I thought, amazed, excited, surprised and ashamed that I would soon have such an acquaintance. On top I wore a fairly simple, just above the knee, sleeveless, black sheath dress with a zip up the back and a white linen blazer over it. At the dinner on the Monday evening and in the subsequent quite busy and fairly open and intimate exchange of texts and emails, we had completed most of the talking that was necessary. We had told each other that we didn’t ‘do affairs,’ that we were hugely attracted to each other and that there seemed to be something driving us towards this point. We had talked at length about how we were both happy at home, loved our partners and children and were, on the one hand, not looking to leave the marital home, but on the other we were not looking for ‘bits on the side.’ It seemed to both of us that there was more than a sexual attraction, but neither of us could put our finger on what it was. I think on purpose and very diplomatically we skirted round the issue of love. “At last Cat, at last,” Jack whispered into my ear as he kissed me in the elevator taking us up to the top floor. “Yes,” I sighed feeling warm and comforted with my body pressed against his, but also worried and scared at what I was doing. “You shouldn’t have done this,” I said when we walked into the penthouse suite. “After my last three cock ups I wanted everything to be perfect.” “Three?” “Yes in the car and office and then stupidly suggesting the Ritz.” “Oh yes,” I smiled “Still that should tell me you don’t have too much practice at such things, shouldn’t it?” “Cat,” he said putting his arms round me and pulling me against him, “I really have no practice at all, I swear.” “Then Jack we are two virgins at it aren’t we?” “Yes, but not at this,” he rather cheesilly, but nevertheless very comfortingly replied as he kissed me and cupped my breast. I kissed him back. He kissed me harder. I responded. His tongue probed at my lips. I opened them. The rather languid nature of the kiss changed. It became more urgent and demanding, deeper and more passionate. It was now more as if we had little time than the hours we really had. He pulled me harder against him squashing my breasts and I squirmed with pleasure. He thrust his erection against me and I pushed back. He was making all the requests a man makes to a woman when he wants sex; sqeezing her breasts, thrusting his hardness against her mound and tongue fucking her mouth. And I was responding with all the acceptances of those requests that a woman makes when she also wants sex. All thoughts of my family, my responsibilities, my husband, my love for him and them went completely out of the window. I was no longer a wife. I was no longer a mother. I was no longer anything other than a woman wanting to have sex with her lover. My white, linen blazer came off first. He slid the lapels back, I put my arms behind me pushing my tits harder against his chest and he slid it off me and dropped it onto a chair. He fumbled at the back of my dress and then finding the tab of the zip pulled it down. It was a nice feeling as the back of my dress parted. It was even nicer when I slid my arms out and it slithered down my body to the floor. It wasn’t quite so nice a feeling though when I worried about it getting crumpled lying on the floor; that was more a wifely than a mistress feeling, I thought as I almost went to pick it up. Jack saying “Oh sod me Cat you look amazing,” stopped me and we kissed again. We were still in the sitting room of the suite. He pulled me over to a settee and he sat on it pulling me onto his lap. “God your breasts are fantastic,” he groaned squeezing one. It felt wonderful “You like this then?” I said referring to the underwear. “You sexy, wonderful woman. If I knew that you wore this sort of stuff I’m sure I would have shagged you in the office in front of everyone.” I laughed. “Good job I don’t then, I bought it specially for today.” “Mmmmm,” he sighed running his fingertips across the swell of my breasts above the black lace of the tight, slightly see through black bra. As usual my nipples were making large indentations in the fine material and I sighed and jumped a little as his finger found that and pinched it as we kissed. When he cupped my breast, my body jerked and when he slid his fingers inside the cup and wiggled them against my nipple I groaned. The sensations were coming thick and fast. My body felt so alive and vital, I was tingling everywhere, I was so hot and my breasts seemed so full and heavy. Jack’s hand slid down my back, round my hip and right onto the crease in my groin where my leg started. The feelings and sensations were so strong I had to break the kiss for I was finding it hard to breath. He kissed my neck instead and I put my head back. His hand slid inwards onto my thong, he stroked that making gurgling noises of appreciation in his throat. I bent my head forward, I wanted to kiss him again and be kissed by him. I was so aroused, so turned on. We kissed, deep and with very active, plundering tongues. His fingers slid down the outside of my thongs and miraculously with no fumbling lighted right on my clit. That was simply too much for me. My mind and body exploded simultaneously and I climaxed. It was hard, shuddering and for me quite noisy with long groans, harsh grunts and deep moans. I clung to him cradling his face with my head thrown back, my eyes closed and mouth open. I pushed my breasts against his face riding the waves of sensation with jerks and shudders of my body. He had made me cum with only the very lightest touches on my clit and tits. “Oh shit,” I grunted feeling so embarrassed. This wasn’t in the plan. The script hadn’t been written that way. Mistresses don’t cum so easily. “Oh baby, don’t say that.” “I’m sorry Jack.” “Cat don’t please.” “But I feel stupid.” “Why?” “Doing that.” “It’s fine, I’m pleased, in fact I’m flattered,” he went on planting little kisses on the tops of my boobs, my chest and neck before kissing me fully on my mouth. His hands ran up and down my back,
softly pinging my bra strap and running around inside the narrow waist band of my panties. “I feel like a kid,” I groaned, although his reaction had reassured me somewhat. He slid his hand inside the cup of my bra and eased one of my breasts out. Lifting it and looking at me out of the top of his eyes as he licked across my nipple he whispered. “Some kid? Kids don’t have these.” I again cradled his head as he sucked, chewed and licked my nipple. “Come to bed Cat. I so want to make complete love to you.” Complete love. Oh my God yes I thought as I got up, held his hand and let him lead me to the bedroom; that’s precisely what I need, complete love, what a great phrase. The bed was already turned down. He kissed me and laid me on it. He stood at the side of the bed, undid his shirt and removed it. His chest was toned and fairly hairy, just as I like a man’s chest, not like, I found myself thinking, Richard’s chest. He wasn’t at all embarrassed as he took his trousers and socks off, but then why should he be? I wasn’t embarrassed being in my underwear so why should he be, why would I think he might be? I guess it was just me thinking back to the last times I had been with a new lover, but then I was in my teens and it was a very long time ago. Things change. He slid his boxers off and, for the first time I not only saw my lover naked, but also wonderfully erect. He looked gorgeous. He had, I found myself thinking, a better, more muscular and more toned body than my husband. He also had a bigger cock I noticed as he lay beside me on the bed. We kissed. Again it was deep and passionate. His naked cock pressed against me, I held it and stroked it and my bra came off. He licked and sucked my tits and I rubbed his chest, belly and cock. He was pulling on the waistband of my thong. I lifted my bottom up and he slid it down my legs. Apart from my stockings I was naked. Our bare bodies pressed together, it felt good. I loved his hairy chest on my boobs and nipples. He turned me onto my back and I realised that we were about to have full sex; to make complete love as he’d described it. It seemed just right to do it with me on my back and him on top. Nothing flash, nothing too adventurous, they could come later I found myself thinking as he lay on top of me. “Cat I have thought about this so much,” he groaned snuggling his cock down between my legs. “So have I, Jack all the time.” “I so want you my darling,” he whispered, pressing the tip of his cock right against my lips. “Yes, my dear, yes,” I sighed “Have me Jack, take me,” ++ I felt terrible when I got home around ten that evening. I had made my excuses both to the kids and Richard so the time was not an issue nor was the fairly obvious fact that I had been drinking. I had covered both of those in my lies. ‘What have I come to?’ I thought as I carried on normally with my husband and family after spending an afternoon and early evening with my lover. An afternoon with my lover. An afternoon in bed with him. An afternoon being fucked by another man, yet here I was making tea for my husband and children. Surely they could tell? Surely they would know? Surely it showed? Surely I reeked of being an adulteress? But everything seemed to be fine. Nobody said anything untoward, nothing seemed to be out of the norm. Phew, I could relax. When I came in there was the usual, hi mum’s from the kids and hello darling from Richard. They didn’t question me or ask awkward questions. Everything was as it usually was; watching TV, surfing, X box and Richard reading. Yet there was me an adulteress who had spent the afternoon being fucked in a hotel just up the road. The evening passed uneventfully. Mark Austin didn’t fuck Julie Etchingham during News at Ten and Jonathan Ross didn’t fuck Gwyneth Paltrow on his chat show, though he did try. We had a drink and went to bed. I was dreading Richard wanting sex. Of course if he had, I would have obliged for I would never refuse my husband. But after certainly five and possibly more orgasms that afternoon and after Jack and me having ‘complete sex’ twice between about three and nine, further sex would have been difficult. But then Richard teed off at eight thirty on Saturdays at Highgate and had to be up early! ++ “Was it awful, darling?” Jack asked, his fingers idly tweaking my nipple. “No not awful, but very odd, very strange,” I replied stroking his flat stomach as we discussed going home after the real start of our affair at the Luton hotel. We were in bed two weeks later; it was the first chance we’d had to get together properly since then. Well we had got together in his car, but that was just deep kisses and caresses, and we had repeated the office scene. Again though, that was just ‘heavy petting.’ We were at a hotel in St Johns Wood right near, actually overlooking, the Lords Cricket ground; not that I particularly liked cricket. We’d had lunch and then made love. It was as simple as that. Met in the lobby, went to the restaurant, ate and drunk went upstairs and fucked. Magic. And it had been a good fuck. Better than either of the two Luton shags. I was more relaxed, he was more confident and we were, I suppose, getting used to each other. Yes we were developing our relationship, we were becoming better acquainted, we really were having an affair. I had told Richard and the kids that I was attending a conference, ‘somewhere in north west London.’ I had purposefully been as vague with the location as I was with the title ‘Oh something to do with using the Internet for marketing research.’ That way they couldn’t check! “Not quite sure what time I’ll be home for there are some old colleagues from my Burston days there so we may have dinner,” I had told them, agreeing arrangements for the kids’ meals. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got a client dinner,” Richard advised, “I won’t be home until probably eleven.” “It must be difficult for you making excuses,” Jack went on kissing my hair. We were lying on the bed naked. It was surprising, well to me at least it was, how quickly both of us had got used to being naked with the other. I am a little self conscious about that. I don’t really like being seen naked in changing rooms, I don’t walk around the home undressed and I’m not even that comfortable being topless on a beach or by a pool. And, of course, I hadn’t been naked with any man other than Richard for such a long time! It’s not because I am worried about my body. I am very lucky with that for I am fairly slim naturally, I don’t have a swollen tum, there’s no signs of cellulite, yet, and my tits haven’t started to sag. It’s more emotional I suppose, perhaps due to a strict upbringing, but it’s also been made worse by my bloody nipples. I do have, though I say it myself, good boobs. They are full and round, not like some that, although sticking out some way, have a small diameter. Mine do both. They are, as Richard describes them, a bloody good handful! My areola aren’t that big, about average I would say and they are a nice coral pink. It’s my nipples that give me problems. It’s not that they are unduly big, but they are very perky; they always look as if I am aroused or very cold and that can be hugely embarrassing. “Yes it is rather, Jack, but I suppose that goes with the territory doesn’t it?” “Territory?” “Yes. It’s the price I have to pay for this,” I smiled running my fingers through his pubic hairs and touching the top of his soft, just used cock as I turned my head and kissed him. “Cheap at twice the price I reckon,” he joked back. Those moment just after having good sex can be lovely. Both feeling mellow and close from the mutual orgasms, the couple can talk and broach the most intimate of topics. They can chat about topics that would be impossible to discuss at any other time. It’s when some couples discuss their fantasies, when other admit to ‘peccadilloes’ in the past and when some talk about their sexual aspirations. It’s at such times that Richard and I have talked about joining a swinging circle, he has said how much he would like to see me have sex with a woman and I hav

e, reluctantly and hesitantly, admitted to being attracted to having sex with a young man; none of which, however, have survived the cold light of day! I muttered “Even cheap at three times the price,” just before we kissed, tenderly and caringly and he cupped my breast. “How is it with you with Jane?” I asked. “From an excuses and lying point of view it’s not bad, for I’m always all over the place with the job. It’s just when I’m with her and the kids.” “You feel you’re betraying them, sort of letting them down?” “Yes, something like that, it’s hard to define. I feel so much for them, but then at the same time I miss you so much,” he said stroking my breast. His words and touch made me tingle. “I know exactly what you mean Jack, I feel the same.” We kissed deep and long. He caressed my breasts and I stroked his stomach. I found his cock and gently rubbed that. Was it starting to grow, I wondered? But then I remembered that this was real life, not an erotic novel and in that, forty five year old men don’t often recover in twenty minutes and they certainly don’t shag four or five times in an afternoon, even a long one! After lunch and coming up to the large, top floor bedroom I had been nervous. This time, however, it was not about having sex for the first time with Jack, it was about hoping he didn’t make me cum too quickly as he had last time. We had, of course, kissed each other immediately we were in the room; we were hungry for that and for each other. This time though, I started to undress myself and Jack followed suit. Although I had begun doing it for other reasons, it became immensely erotic. I undid my blouse, he unbuttoned his shirt. I looked at his flat, muscular, hairy chest and he stared at my boobs in the see through, white lacy bra. I slid out of my skirt, he gasped and smiled as he saw the light tan, lacy topped hold ups. He removed his trousers and it was my turn to gasp at the tight grey CKs with the lovely, big lump running right up the middle of them pushing the waist band out from his stomach. I turned my back inviting him to unclip my bra. “If sir would oblige?” I said smiling. “Sir most certainly will”, he retorted coming up behind me, pressing his erection against my bum and reaching round and squeezing my boobs. That worried me a bit, but it also thrilled me. “I meant the clasp Jack, nothing else,” I laughed squirming away from him and undoing it myself. I turned back to him keeping the bra in place by holding the cups. We stared at each other, it was, or so it seemed, a seminal moment. I felt enormously aroused and so very close to Jack at that moment. Again, that feeling of everything other than him and me faded away. That was all there was, I felt that he and I were my world as I slowly moved my hands away from my breasts taking my bra with them. I felt sort of humble, yet so wanted and feminine as Jack let out his breath, shook his head stared as I flaunted my boobs at him. “Oh Cat they are so lovely.” “Thank you kind sir,” I whispered back feeling adventurous. I cupped each of my breasts and lifted them. He came towards me and stroked my nipples. “Mmmmm, but there’s a price to pay to do that,” I smiled. “And what may I ask is the price?” I stepped back, still holding my boobs, lowered my gaze and nodded at his boxers. Obviously getting my message, he smiled and, possibly a little too quickly, pushed them down. It really was my turn to gasp now, for naked he looked awesome. I didn’t at all like the thought that popped unasked and unwelcomed into my mind about him having a better body generally and a more attractive cock specifically than my husband. “Jack you are beautiful,” I sighed. “Have I paid the price?” He asked closing the gap between us. “In full sir, totally and completely in full.” “Then ma’am there’s also a price you have to pay.” “What for?” “Let’s just call it Jack’s charity,” he joked pulling on the waist band of the white, lacy shorts. Smiling I removed my knickers, but not the stockings, which in any case would be thrown away when we finished. We were soon on the bed and equally quickly Jack was in me. We started with him lying on top of me. My legs were open and our mouths were clamped as he started to fuck me. Slow and deep, long and languid he pumped his way inside me. I raised my knees and wrapped them round him. “Oh Cat that’s great,” he grunted getting further into me than he had on either of our previous times. “Yes, Jack, ooooo, harder.” He thrust his way in and out of me going faster and faster and then stopped and held himself rigid deep inside me. He rolled us onto our sides and continued to fuck me like that and then turned onto his back so I was on top. I didn’t kneel, though, that was for later. Instead I lay on top of him, but I moved not him so, in a way I was fucking him. He sucked my breasts and played with my bum, something we hadn’t yet got round to. The way he flitted his fingertips across my anus, suggested that it wouldn’t be long, though, before we did. He turned us again so that I was once more on my back, we were right on the edge of the bed and almost falling off, but we didn’t stop, I doubt that we could if we had wanted to. We were kissing and licking each other, rubbing, squeezing, caressing and stroking as we fucked and fucked and fucked. There was no problem this time with a premature orgasm just one with having on orgasm that went on and on and on. “Lift your legs.” “What, how?” I asked. “Like this,” he said reaching down and behind him. He grabbed my legs mid way between my knees and ankles and started to lift. I of course understood and I helped him put my legs over his shoulders. He raised himself by straightening his arms and doing a sort of sexual hand stand so his back was arched. He used one hand on my breasts and I lifted my head and nibbled both of his nipples. “I want to watch you cum darling,” he whispered. I smiled. “Then, my dear, you had better fuck me hadn’t you,” I groaned using such a basic word for the first time with him. ++ I gradually got used to having an affair, to being someone’s lover, to being an adulteress. The excuses, the lies and the subterfuge became second nature, although I hated them and hated myself for having to use them. But then, I rationalised, ‘There’s no free lunches!’ At times, especially when I was in bed with Richard, he had dozed off and I was lying there thinking about the future I wondered if the price I was paying was worth it. I was cheating on my husband, lying to my children and, in part at least, taking another innocent woman’s husband away from her. I was spending afternoons in hotels and brief periods in the evenings in his car and the office having sex of one type or the other. Yet there was no real shortage of sex with my husband and, to be truthful, I had never had the greatest appetite for it. Although I was getting used to it, some aspects were difficult to cope with. Weekends, for instance, when I wouldn’t speak to or even see Jack let alone kiss him or have his hands on me were terrible. As was watching him in the office and not be able to talk to him as my lover. It was almost as bad when we got out of bed and went home. But slowly I began to cope. I began to be able to compartmentalise my life. To love Jack, to enjoy being with him and to shut everything about my ‘real’ life from my mind. At the same time I learned to live comfortably without him and to be happy and content loving Richard and the children. With them I developed the knack of being able to ‘forget my other life.’ I was living my life in a parallel existence. I was coping. Jack and I talked a lot. Before sex it was usually a bit stilted, but our post sex, pillow talk opened up. It was mainly about us. When we were together, ‘us’ and our future were important, but, we both agreed, when apart and back in our natural habitat, the home, ‘us’ was different. There was not so much the future to think of, but the present to miss. We agreed that when apart we mainly missed the other’s body, yes it was the sex that we yearned for when not together. That was

despite being perfectly able to have good sex with our spouses. But when together, we hated parting. Weekends were bad, Bank Holidays terrible and family vacations horrendous. We both perfectly well realised that normal life had to go on. I continued having sex with Richard as frequently as I always had and, in some ways, maybe because of my guilt I tried harder and may even have been better. Although Jack and I might have a ‘quick grope’ in the office when most had left or a ‘heavy snog’ in his car, actual full sex wasn’t that frequent, probably every ten days to two weeks. I knew that Jack was shagging Jane and although at times I felt pangs of jealousy I recognised that he felt the same as me. We discussed it at length and agreed that yes, it was possible to love two people. ++ As the summer wore on so did my affair. We used hotels quite frequently. Usually we followed the pattern established at Luton the first time, but occasionally he would book in and I would go straight to the room either, before or, after Jack. For some reason, walking into a hotel, picking up the key from reception and going up to a room which had been booked for just one reason, sex, was a hell of a buzz. I got such a thrill from being a mistress in those circumstances. It was the same when we had lunch and then wandered out, usually hand in hand and took the lift up to our room. I just loved those moments and the feeling that everyone was looking at us thinking he’s taking her up stairs to fuck her. Numerous other highs emerged as the year went on. We couldn’t always use hotels. It was not only very expensive; with lunch, the room and the booze, around three hundred ponds a pop, making me feel like a high, well highish, priced hooker, but it was also not that convenient. Hotels couldn’t cope with a surge of need on either of our parts and they weren’t there when our circumstances changed suddenly and we had time for each other. That’s when some of the highs happened. The first one was in the office. We had been ‘an item’ for a couple of months I guess, so we were pretty relaxed with each other. It was early evening and most people had gone. Jack was out and I had decided to stay late to catch up on some jobs that had fallen behind, largely due to my ‘afternoons of sin’ as I called them. I like working alone in the office. It makes me feel virtuous to be the only one working when the rest have gone home. It also made me feel virtuous to be telling my family the truth when I say ‘I’m working late tonight.’ It must have been just after eight when, out of the blue, Jack walked in. It would be a tremendous understatement to say we were both surprised to see each other. It would also be an understatement to say we were ‘pleased to see each other,’ we were both ecstatic and hugely excited about it. Without even thinking I was in his arms kissing him even before he’d had time to put his briefcase down. Thinking that wasn’t just what was needed, it was each other we needed. We went into a corner of the office that was hidden from the rest of the desks. We knew that the ping of the lift, the only way into the office, could be clearly heard, for we had ‘kissed and canoodled’ there several times. “What a wonderful surprise,” he said cupping my breast. “Marvellous, when did you decide to come back?” “Only around seven after I left Mertons, I would have called had I have known, we could have er, gone somewhere.” “Somewhere?” I asked, kissing him and running my fingers through his hair. “A hotel or something, I didn’t know you had a late pass tonight.” I don’t know what got into me, I have no idea what happened or what made me do it. I had never done anything like it before, or since come to that. Looking straight into his eyes I took hold of the hem of my sweater and in one go pulled it up, over my head and off. “I don’t think we need somewhere do we Jack?” “Oh fuck me Cat, are you sure,” he groaned pulling me too him. I kissed him and squirmed my boobs against him as I reached down and ran my hand over the growing lump in his trousers. “Never been surer darling,” I replied reaching behind me and unclipping my bra. I dropped that in my bag, which I had remembered to bring with me. It may sound as though I was taking a big risk, but I reckoned that I could easily slip the sweater back on if anyone came up in the lift and we would just have to front out why we were there, alone together. As for no bra, well I would have to make sure the sweater didn’t get stretched too tightly across my chest. Of course he was all over me, but then that’s exactly what I wanted. His mouth, lips, teeth and tongue were on my boobs and nipples, sucking, slurping, chewing and licking and his hands found and caressed my tits, legs, thighs, back and bum, which was coming into play rather more frequently lately, I had noted. I unzipped him and grabbed his cock. He was, as usual, stunningly hard. I wanted him badly. “Here, in the office?” He said sounding very surprised. I felt ambitious and adventurous, uninhibited and wanton. I had no idea what had got into me, what made me feel this way or what had changed my mind on sex in the office. Yes, we had kissed and caressed each other a few times here after work, but nothing on this level. Nothing like me being topless, nothing like him sucking my bare breasts, nothing like him having his cock out and nothing like me turning round, resting my hands on the table used for collating mail shots and the like, and saying. “Yes Jack right here in the office.” “Oh my God, yes,” he said rolling my skirt up. I wasn’t wearing stockings or particularly sexy panties, just a straightforward pair of white, lacy, M & S shorts, sensible but pretty; after all I hadn’t dressed to be undressed today. He pushed me further forward squashing my bare tits on the wood of the table. I was still holding his cock as he pulled my panties down. “No leave them on,” I groaned. He did and moved really close behind me. We were both now holding his erection guiding it to where it was most needed. It was quick and urgent, energetic and fast and wanton and dirty, just as a fuck in the office should be. It was a warm summer. I had a great tan. It was all over apart from a little triangle strategically placed around my near landing strip of pubic hairs. Jack loved looking at my brown boobs and bum and I loved showing them to him. We were now sexually very relaxed with each other, more so I was beginning to think than with our partners. Jack had told me that he and Jane rarely if ever did oral and she wasn’t happy talking about sex and seemed to have no aspirations or fantasies. She wore plain, cotton underwear and never dressed in sexy stuff for him. To be honest, I didn’t for Richard, but I did for Jack and he encouraged it. He bought me lots of stuff from AP and Janet Regar, thankfully not from Anne Summers and it was all tastefully erotic; not a cut out nipple bra or crutchless panty in sight. I suppose, given that it was really the sex that was at the core of our relationship, that became more and more important. We didn’t have the opportunity to have sex that often, so when we did we both wanted more variation and more adventure. Hence, the underwear he bought me and what I wore for him, the occasional full sex in the office and some of the other high spots. A couple of weeks later, we were on our way home driving up the A1. “You in any hurry this evening?” He asked. “No, not particularly,” I replied looking at my watch and seeing it was only six, we had left early. This was all shorthand we both knew f

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