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In which a routine marriage is revived by the vagrancies of the weather and the attentions of a good neighbor.

That fateful Sunday started off with the same old routine. We’d been married for just three years, Michelle and I, but that was enough for us to settle into that comfortable routine. Work was routine, play was routine, life was routine. Worst of all our sex life was routine. So, following the old Sunday morning routine, I pecked my wife’s cheek and drove off to the golf course.

This Sunday, however, did not live up to its namesake. That worthy was hiding behind a mass of low lying clouds. Nothing to stop an afternoon of golfing fun, however. But after an hour of whacking a ball around the fairways those clouds had turned ominous and soon the heavens opened up. The more sensible among us broke for the shelter of the clubhouse while a few diehards squinted into the storm, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge its presence.

The rain wouldn’t go away. It didn’t look like it was ever going away. It just, continued to fall hard, determined no doubt to drown the world and all its creatures. So I cursed Nature and the rotten luck she had dumped on me and decided to go home. Not too long after that momentous decision I found myself pulling into our driveway. A lot earlier than I had planned to. All I had to look forward to was the rest of the day, spent with my loving but routine wife.

Cursing the weather one more time I let myself in the front door. And heard voices. Oh great, I thought, visitors. The day was just getting better and better. What next? An atom bomb? Worse! It was, Jeff, one half of the sweet as apple pie couple that lived next door. Five minutes with those two would guarantee a place in heaven and a mouthful of cavities. Even routine ol’ Michelle would be in dire need of rescuing by now, I thought.

But better her than me. Grinning to myself I half-turned on my way back out. That’s when she giggled. I froze in my tracks. It was the same giggle I’d heard all those years ago. The nervous half-laugh that she laughed the first time I seduced her. Cautiously and silently (thanks to the sound of the falling rain) I shut the door, removed my shoes and padded over to the dining room door.

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A co-worker said to me, “Everybody’s got a broken heart story!” I imagine that they do. I had a lot of trouble getting over mine. You’ll never know how many times I wrote this story, reliving the moments described here. This is a true story. In the interest of my good mental health it’s far past time for me to post this story and delete all copies I have of it and be done with it. Don’t ask me for additional copies, real names or real places. Any mail I receive regarding this story will be ignored and forgotten.

April Fool’s Day of 1981 – “Playing the Fool”

I used to work nights at the hospital. I liked how quiet the hospital was on night shift. With only a few duties to perform, I often read all night long. At the end of night shift would come a beautifully still morning, where I could go downtown and take care of daily business before most people were awake.

The only problem with night shift is not being able to sleep with my girlfriend, Jane. Because her schedule was opposite of mine, she had stayed home all night and would go to work later in the day. The only time I had a chance to be with her was early mornings. I treasured these mornings we had together. My future plans at the time included not only mornings together, but living our lives together.

I walked softly down the hall in the early morning light, trying not to wake my neighbors in the adjacent apartments. I opened the door and threw my coat on a nearby chair. I tiptoed to the bedroom door hoping I could slide quietly into bed with my lover, Jane. As I neared the door, I noticed it was shut. As I stood just outside the door I heard a low sounding noise.

I will never forget what I saw next as I walked into the room. That moment will replay in my head for many years to come.
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Anna is a very beautiful woman. She is tall, blonde, and tans to a gorgeous golden hue.

I’ve worked with her on a project for quite some time and have had fantasies about her from the start. I feel an attraction to her every time that I see her.

I’d noticed her looking at me at times when we’ve worked together but neither one of us have voiced anything. She knows that I’m married and I’ve been too frightened to say anything since I know that not only is she married, but I could be very wrong about the way that I’ve interpreted her looks.

There have been many times though that I have longed to kiss the back of her neck as she leaned forward while we worked at the computer. She has very sensuous shoulders and neck.

Anna’s husband is on the road most of the time trying to land more capital investors for his company. Anna hints at her loneliness at these times, and we often work late on the days when her husband is out of town.

My wife was in New York on a business trip and Anna’s husband was out as usual. It was in early evening and I was totally lost in gazing at her pretty neck and profile when I realized that she was staring at me over her shoulder. She had just asked me a question three times without a response. She noticed me turning red with embarrassment and started to turn red also as she realized what I had been daydreaming about.

I apologized and stood up to leave as she turned toward me to say something. She froze staring at my crotch where my hard on was showing. My whole body felt on fire as I looked down at her, her red lips were glistening in the light and her eyes seemed to be deep blue pools. I moaned another apology and started to leave when she reached forward to feel my cock. (click to read entire story…)

It was a rainy and cool autumn night, a nice change from the long, hot summer. It had been a busy day and so I decided to call for a pizza to be delivered. In the meantime I took a long, hot shower to relax.

My husband was working very late. One child was sleeping and the other was gone to a friend’s house overnight. Just as I was rubbing soapsuds all over my body, I heard the doorbell ring. Wouldn’t you know it? I suddenly remembered that I had ordered a pizza. I knew that the delivery person would be standing in the rain, so I quickly put on a very short red silk robe. I was still wet so it was sticking to my body all over. I ran to the door and opened it to find the pizza kid who was also quite wet. I told him to come in out of the rain. When he stepped into the light of the hall, I was very happily surprised. He was about 6 feet tall, dark hair, brown eyes, very good looking, young but “old enough.”

I was immediately excited. My nipples got hard under the wet silk and I think he noticed. My robe was coming open a little bit when I took the pizza and went to get the money so he could see more of my breasts. I was shaking when I was coming back from the kitchen with the money and I dropped some of it. He helped me pick it up and I could tell he was breathing heavily.

When we stood up I noticed how hard he was. His cock looked so big even under his clothes that I knew I couldn’t resist trying to seduce him. (click to read entire story…)

This is my first posting … I have more to share in the future if you like this, but must post anonymously, since I am a senior manager at a Fortune 100 company and knowledge about my extra-curricular activities would cause the end of my career.

It was hot and steamy as we arrived at the airport in Brisbane for the long journey home to Boston. This was the end of a month-long campervan vacation in Australia, and I, for one, was overjoyed to be heading back to some normalcy. For an entire month my wife Anne (I call her “the queen”) had avoided sex in the campervan, or anywhere else for that matter, since “the children are nearby.” – The irony of her way of thinking will be evident shortly.

Actually, she is not very interested in sex anytime, since she was taught by her mother that sex was “dirty.” The only time she ever saw her parents making love, they were fully clothed (hike up the skirt, dear – I’ll just quickly unzip.) Sometimes I wonder how we ever ended up with three children; one is grown and on her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and Trevor, 14) were with us on holiday. Because I travel regularly, I have opportunity for other sexual outlets during the year, but four plus weeks within close quarters with a demanding uptight woman does not give you much opportunity to develop alternatives.

I had some first class upgrade coupons, but at check-in time was told there was only one seat available. Anne immediately volunteered because of her “potential for a bad back,” and was seated in 3A. The boys and I were given 21K/L and 22L. This was aisle and window seating in the 2-5-2 configuration, and the last two rows in the second section. I took the single seat, and let Ralph and Trevor sit together for the first ten-hour segment of the flight.

An attractive woman dressed in a loose sweater and very tight blue jeans took the seat next to me. I could see that Ralph was uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous, since he kept turning around to talk to me, but she was too old (29) to be interested in him. She introduced herself as Christine, “You can call me Chrissy.” She was about five foot eight, light brown (almost blond) long hair, a nice ass – firm and high, breasts with an impact even through her shapeless sweater, and obviously in good physical condition.

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