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An Extramarital Affair

Author: Zondar37m
Category: Erotic_Straight_Stories
Last updated: Aug 24, 2008

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I was in some sex-oriented chat room on the web, like "Married and Flirting," and I was trying to strike up discussion by asking the room questions like, "What's the weirdest place you've ever had sex?" I guess something I said intrigued her, because she started talking with me. She seemed very vivacious, so I assumed that she was pretty young. I also realized quickly that she has quite an appetite for sex. One comment she made really stuck in my mind: "Sometimes you to make love, but other times you just wanna fuck!" How often had I wished that my wife would say something like that! (Or at least act like she thought it.)

It turned out that she was a soccer mom who was just getting a divorce. I think being in the middle of a breakup made her vulnerable. And I suppose I have my good points: I'm a good listener, good sense of humor, and for whatever it's worth I'm a successful professional. It probably didn't hurt either that I obviously find her immensely sexy. She's bright, she's very funny, and she's just fun. She's also one of those rare women who just loves sex as much as most guys do. Maybe the sort of focused, career-oriented women I've tended to meet in my life are unusual, but it certainly seems like most of them haven't been like her. She was really a breath of fresh air. That was something I needed, because I was really feeling overwhelmed with my life at that point. The pressures of my career, our kids, and the stress of my wife's own difficult profession were pushing me almost to the breaking point. I didn't want to abandon my family, but I felt like I needed some kind of outlet. I don't think I intended at first to have an actual affair. I was just so exhilarated to have a sexy woman flirt with me. Maybe that's a petty rationalization, but that's how I felt.

So we started chatting online. We talked a lot about sex, so it wasn't long before we were cybering. I think she made the first move by saying something like, "If you were here with me now [pause] you'd look down and see [pause] a pair of 36D's!" That was sexy. Cybering with her was hot, but as a rule I almost never climax from cybering. I'm too busy trying to think of how to turn on the woman. One trick (which I'm sure isn't original) is for the woman to do *only* what I tell her to do to herself. Some women really get off on being under someone else's control, on the suspense of not knowing what I'll "make" them do next, and on the frustration of not being allowed to touch themselves in any other way. I really get off on the fact that somewhere there's a woman sitting in front of her computer screen squeezing her nipples or inserting a vibrating into her pussy because I told her too. Mmmmm.

We didn't just cyber, though. We also talked a lot about personal things. I told her about some dark secrets from my life, and she shared some about hers. In fact, she told me that she'd been keeping one of those secrets inside her for years up until this point. I'm glad I helped her to open up, because she certainly had the same effect on me. In fact, that led to one of the major turning points in our relationship.

One night, I told her about a fantasy that had come into my head as I lay in bed that night. I had imagined her tying me up. Then she had slapped me across the face. I just laughed at her. So she slapped me harder. Then she grabbed my nipples and pinched them -- hard. I was furious by this point, but she untied me. Then she gave me a smirk, and said, "So what are you gonna do about it?" I back-handed her, knocking her down onto the bed, then I mounted her and fucked her passionately. She said almost nothing while I typed all this in, so I was a little worried about how she would react. I typed, "I can't believe I'm telling you all this. You probably think I'm some big sicko." The next thing that appeared on my screen was, "I AM SO TURNED ON RIGHT NOW!!!!!" I honestly hadn't realized before that I enjoyed fantasies that involved B&D and S&M. But looking back, I see that those were aspects of many of my fantasies. It turned out that she is really into that too. In fact, she is a genuine masochist. Pain for her is often pleasant. She even said that she intentionally delayed delivery with her last child, because she was enjoying the pain so much! So pain and bondage and dominance quickly became themes in our sex talk.

If you're an outsider to this, it must just seem bizarre, even disgusting. But there is something strangely intimate about all this. When you dominate someone or let them dominate you, you are exposing a part of yourself that you keep hidden from almost everyone else. Everyone knows that you have sex. Everyone assumes that you do all the usual things -- intercourse, oral sex, maybe a little doggie-style. But of the people who see you at work, at your kid's school, at the supermarket -- who guesses that you want to jerk off on some woman's face while you tell her she's a whore? (Or, who guesses that you desperately want to be that woman?) So it's very special when you share that part of you with someone.

It wasn't long before we were having phone sex. She was the second woman I had met online with whom I'd done this. It's so exciting to talk to someone on the phone for the first time after you've been having intimate online conversations with them. It's so risky and so forbidden. What if it turns out that she's some psycho stalker? What if my wife wakes up and comes downstairs and I don't hear it in time? You dial the phone, your hand trembling, you hear them pick up, and the sexy sound of a woman giggling, "Hello" turns you on like you're in high school again. At first, you make giddy nervous conversation. But before you know it, you're lying on your living room floor with your pants around your ankles, beating off while talking to some woman who is miles away, telling her what a "whore" she is, and how you want to "fuck her up the ass." And you know she's sitting in her living room, or den, or kitchen with her skirt hiked up, her hand feverishly working her clit as she plays with herself.

It became clear quickly that she wanted to actually get together. I really, really wanted to, but I also had moral qualms about it. Eventually, I said, No. I also said that the only why I was going to be able to resist meeting her was if we stopped cybering and having phone sex. The next day I was worried about how she was taking this, so I logged in to see if I had email. She was online. She was sad. I felt bad about hurting her feelings. We started to talk. I called her on the phone. One thing led to another: lying on the living room floor, pants around my ankles, telling her I want her to be my "fuck toy" while we both beat off. So much for my program of restraint! After that, it was just a matter of time.

So we agreed to meet at a restaurant near where I live, "just to talk." She had sent me a picture of herself, so I knew that she was very pretty. She has wonderful red hair, which is something I love. (I won't describe her beyond that, in order to protect her privacy.) But meeting her in person was electric. I mean, here she actually was, right in front of me, in the flesh. And what wonderful flesh it was. I handed her the flowers I had brought for her. We leaned into each other across the table while we talked. I have no idea what we said, but I don't think either one of us actually cared. At one point, she looked down at her own cleavage, which was nicely displayed in a very revealing top. It was an obvious move to draw my eyes there, but the fact that it was so blatantly sexual was precisely what I loved about it. She wanted me to find her sexy. She wanted me to look at her with lust. And I obliged. We had a quick snack, and then proceeded to go to her car, where we made out for about an hour in the parking lot of the restaurant. We kissed a little, then she lay back on the seat and pulled her shirt up, flashing me her tits. Oh god! I licked, and nibbled, and pinched, and bit them, while she moaned and squirmed under me. In between making out, we talked. This was actually a friend's car that she had borrowed. She took her shoes off and put two footprints on the front windshield, just to make her friend wonder what we had been doing. That was so cute! She was having her period, but I suggested that we go to a hotel that night anyway. She demurred. But the passion kept building up. I suddenly lunged at her, grabbing her by the throat and kissing her passionately. I squeezed her tits hard and started to tear at her clothing. Just as suddenly, I got control of myself, and leaned back in my seat. "Wow," she said. "That was something." Eventually, I had to go home.


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