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It was happening all over again. It seemed that no matter how hard Kate tried, she just couldn’t stop herself. Lying in bed at night, in those moments just before sleep when you can be at your most honest with yourself, she had to admit that, in reality, she didn’t try that hard.
She knew that she should. All her wifely and motherly instincts told her that. All her female standards influenced by the social conditioning she had gone through in her nearly forty five years, screamed that she should. But over the past four and a bit years, she didn’t and she wasn’t sure whether she could or, truth be known now, even wanted to. She likened herself to a serial killer. She would go ages without feeding her habit, but then something would burst inside her and she had to get that fix, have that buzz, satisfy that craving.
“I’m sorry Kate,” Stephen had said when she caught him so obviously looking at her bum in the tight, white tunic the clinic insisted all the Consultant Assistants wore.
She had gone back to work, just after her fortieth birthday; a traumatic time for all women. She was working for a consultant psychologist in a swish, Harley Street clinic. In his early fifties, married and hugely successful, he was gorgeous. They had got on well immediately and had quickly developed a relaxed, chatty and slightly flirty relationship.
Stephen loved women, everything about them, their smell, their shape, their smooth softnness and just the way they carried themselves. Although far from gay he, at times, wished he had been born female. Odd thinking from a man who spent practically every moment he and Kate were together, imagining her naked with his cock shoved into one of her orifices; but then psychologists can both create and handle such mental conundrums, can’t they?
Although he had never completely committed adultery, for with the warped logic of mind scientists, hookers didn’t count, he lusted after Kate tremendously. Most days he masturbated about her, and when he made love to his wife, in his mind it was Kate he was fucking, not Marcia.
With many people, one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs is seeing another person’s sexual interest in you. With many women, the power and status of a man with whom they work closely, is of almost and equal attraction. With all of us, the loss of the ‘magic, from our current relationship can be the multiplying effect for us to be attracted to someone else. With Kate, in her working relationship with Stephen, all these elements were combining.
It wasn’t that big a surprise really that Stephen started making remarks, which on the surface were jokey ones, flattering Kate on her appearance and figure. Deeper down though, their meaning was to soften her up, test the waters as it were and see if maybe she was up for it. It was also not a huge surprise for Kate to play up to that.
The just above the knee, buttons all the way up the front, white coats with a three inch wide elastic belt the female assistants were required to wear by the new Swedish owners of the clinic, were made from the highest quality Egyptian cotton. Each assistant was carefully fitted for the coats and they fitted very snugly. Too snugly some thought, particularly those like Kate who were carrying an extra few pounds on the figure, which the aged, female fitter had measured and told her was 35D, 28 37. In her Swedish accent she had said, touching Kate’s boobs and hips. “At five feet five Kate, you should lose some kilos, here and here.”
All the assistants quickly learned that tight, white, high quality cotton has many great features. Hiding what was underneath the material, though, isn’t one of them. Some had counteracted that by wearing a slip and others by wearing bland, opaque underwear, but some hadn’t bothered. So it was not that unusual to see the outline of a bra, the lines of panties, the lacy band of a thong or even the hint of an areola and the indentation of nipples around the luxurious setting of the upscale clinic.
Stephen could hardly believe what he saw when he came into the office that morning. Kate was bent over getting something from a low drawer. Her thong was so obviously outlined through the thin material that he started to harden immediately. When she turned and said hello, his erection was completed. As clear as had been her thong through the back of the coat, was her bra at the front. But it wasn’t just her bra that was displayed, for as they stared at each other, it was what was in it, which encouraged the completing of his hardness. And that too was obvious to both of them.
Even to this day, Kate still believes it was an accident and that she hadn’t worn the see through bra as a come on. She swears she just forgot how transparent the white coat could be.
Nevertheless, from that moment, most rational thinking, left their relationship.
That morning they kissed. That evening, when the clinic was nearly empty, he caressed her breasts and the next day he undid her coat. Whilst it was bahis firmaları quite common for the consultants to lock their doors, Kate couldn’t bring herself to let him go further ‘in the office.’ In any case, the conflict she was encountering by being so intimate with another man, was so hard to handle.
Yes, she thought, at times, I want him to make love to me. But then the huge realisation that it would be the first time she had been unfaithful to Paul her husband since they had started together when she was twenty, hit her.
Stephen was having similar concerns. Despite often using hookers, massage parlours and escorts, he did take his marriage vows seriously. He had never taken up any of the many opportunities that had been presented to him over the years. Kate, somehow, was different.
The very next day, with the door again closed they again kissed, Stephen again unbuttoned her coat, but this time he eased her delicious breasts out of her bra. They were both close, so very, very close to going all the way, but somehow common sense prevailed.
That didn’t last, long though. For a few days, they held back, they restrained themselves they kept their lust in control. But it exploded again late one morning and Kate was in Stephen’s arms, their mouths were locked, his hands were everywhere. He started undoing her coat, he pulled the hem up and ran his hands over her bare bum. He pulled the front up and sighed with pleasure at the tiny triangle of see through lace covering her pubes and pussy.
He had lost it completely. All thoughts of remaining faithful had left him. The body in his arms and the lips against his were totally consuming him and he had only one objective in mind. To fuck Kate.
He got one of her tits out from her bra, greedily sucked her nipples and slid his hand between her legs. She responded by rubbing his swollen length outside his trousers.
Oh Kate, I so want you,” he groaned, the words crashing into her mind and bringing her partly to her senses.
As Stephen started to slide her panties down Kate stopped him.
“No. No Stephen, not here, I can’t.”
“Why not Kate you do want me don’t you?”
“Yes, yes of course I do, but not here,” she moaned, not being totally aware of what she was saying.
“Come to Hampstead then, Marcia’s away,” he said mentioning his home.
“I couldn’t do that, not in your home.”
“Let’s go to a hotel,” he suggested running his fingers along her wetness.
Even then, even in the plush surroundings of luxury room in a top London hotel, something held them back. Yes, they kissed, yes he undressed her and yes she undressed him. Yes, he sucked, nibbled, chewed and kissed her breasts and nipples and she stroked and rubbed his cock; the first cock other than Paul’s she had held for over twenty years and that was wonderful.
They lay on the big bed, both naked. Their hands were everywhere on the other’s body, his fingers ran along Kate’s lips and found her clit, hers were slowly pumping his cock.
“I want to make love to you Kate,” Stephen whispered.
She didn’t reply, she couldn’t, she didn’t know what to say or do. She was so far out of her comfort zone and beyond where she had ever imagined she would be with another man that she had no previous experience to call upon. She was scared and excited, concerned and aroused, guilty and so turned on. Her body was screaming ‘Let him fuck you,’ her mind was saying, ‘Hold back, you aren’t ready.’
“Oh God Kate,” Stephen groaned feeling the start of his climax.
“What, what is it?”
“I am going to cum, sorry,” he said going to pull away from her.
“So am I,” Kate retorted as her body started to quiver with the early tremors of an orgasm. “Don’t pull away, stay right like this.”
And like that, three of his fingers inside her, his thumb pressing right alongside her clit as she pumped and he thrust in her hand they both climaxed, his sticky goo seeping out of her hand and all over her stomach.
They never did commit adultery, or indeed do anything further. Kate left the clinic the next day.
As Kate moved into her forties so her need for change, fun, excitement, thrills, something new, anything really, had increased. She was in the classic early middle age, married woman, well married man as well, situation. Her marriage had lost its spark, her relationship with her husband no longer had the magic. Nothing specific, nothing you could put your finger on, but what had been wonderful was now tedium. The kids didn’t really need her, she had no ‘calling’ in life, no strong interests or consuming hobbies and life was passing her by, and fast.
She had led a relatively sheltered life. She had never been unfaithful and apart from some mild snogging at parties and the odd hand on her bum or fingers rubbing the side of her tit when she was dancing, nothing much sexually untoward had happened to her in the twenty odd years she had been with Paul, prior to her fortieth birthday. But so much had happened kaçak iddaa that was both sexually untoward and sexually provocative since that milestone.
Deep down, she knew that what had been going on over the past few years was a sort of madness. It was wrong, immoral, and unfair, but by Christ was it exciting. And that was what she needed more than anything, excitement. She needed her regular dose of it, she needed the thrill, she needed her fix, often and big, yes she had become a buzz junkie. The buzz was everything, the buzz was all and when it called she was lost to it.
For most of her adult life, Kate hadn’t masturbated that much. The two to three times a week, she and Paul had sex during her twenties and thirties was enough for her. Even when that reduced to one or two times a week, it hadn’t bothered her, or she hadn’t noticed if it had.
But then she found the net, then she found chat rooms and then she did start to masturbate. And the more she masturbated, the more she wanted to masturbate. The more she thought about sex, the more she wanted sex, so the more she masturbated. It was becoming a vicious circle.
Her need for sex, though, did not necessarily include Paul.
At first it was by herself, but then after many suggestions from ‘friends’ she met on the net she ‘cybered’ with one, then another and another until she had quite a male harem, if that’s not a contradiction in terms. It was purely in words in those little windows at first. That was wild enough, she thought. But then, like drugs, she needed a stronger stimulus, a more powerful fix.
“Take your panties off for me Kate,” the deep voice with an American accent said down her mobile the first time she watched a man on cam and spoke to him on the phone.
The words “Do you want to see everything?” came up on her screen as she looked at the waist upward, naked torso of Grant, a twenty four year old, net buddy from Vancouver.
With quivering fingers she typed “Yes” as she stared at him via his cam, which panned downward to show her his quite beautiful cock held in his hand. She watched fascinated
as, for the first time, she saw a man masturbate for her whilst she also masturbated for him, but she was invisible.
That is until she bought a cam. True, she used it very discretely and quite infrequently and then only with guys in the US or Australia. However, the sensations as she watched and spoke to a guy as he watched and spoke to her as they both masturbated, were truly amazing. It could well be, she sometimes thought, that having sex on the cam using the PC’s microphone and speakers, was just the encouragement and stimulus she needed to take her moral demise to the next stage.
It wasn’t a grand affair. There was nothing particularly notable about it. It wasn’t in special surroundings, he wasn’t someone she felt that strongly about and it was not as if she couldn’t have quite easily avoided it. But she didn’t. She welcomed it really. It sort of got it out of the way. Yes, it was almost a load off her mind, to get it over and done, with, to commit adultery for the first time and be able to think, ‘I’ve done it at last, nice one, job done.
In the year or so since Stephen, Kate had come near twice. Once with a guy she met at golf, the other with a man she had known for some years, who owned a small book shop in a nearby village. One nearly happened in his car, the golfer, the other in the back room behind the shop. She was getting nearer and nearer in more sordid and decadent situations and, she realised she was relishing it. It gave her the stimulation, the excitement, the challenge and, what she most needed, that buzz. She was feeding her habit.
“Thanks for a nice evening,” Kate said to a work colleague as they left the bar in the hotel.
She had been working on her company’s stand at a trade show in Excel, the massive exhibition centre in London Docklands. All the team in the marketing and promotions department took it in turns to man the stand and, as it went on until ten in the evening, they were allowed to stay overnight in the nearby Ramada Suites. It wasn’t really essential for Kate to do that, for she only lived and hour or so drive away, ‘But’ she thought, ‘Why not have a night of luxury all be myself?’
The fact that a number of the marketing and sales guys were also staying had nothing whatsoever to do with her decision, she thought to herself when she told the administrator she would like to stay. ‘There’s no way I will do anything,’ she had sworn as she was chatted up unmercifully on the stand. ‘It’s only a drink after work,’ she had reassured herself, sitting in the bar with Mark, a senior Brand Manager who she had got to know quite well.
The remainder of the other, younger guys and a couple of the ‘dollies’ had gone to find a club, so Mark and she were left alone or, was it that they had chosen to be alone, she wondered later when she though back to that night?
There really is something unsettlingly erotic about staying in kaçak bahis a hotel on business. It’s almost as if the rules of normal life are left outside the revolving doors of the hotel, as if the hotel is off the limits to typical behaviours. Business hotels seem to offer a blanket excuse for sexual misdemeanours and insist on ‘What happens on tour, stays on tour.’
As they walked towards the lift, the slightly tipsy Mark said to Kate, who was equally, slightly tipsy, “It doesn’t have to end now does it?”
Kate didn’t get what he meant at first as the lift doors slid open and they walked in.
“What?” She asked turning and leaning back against the side of the lift. “Sixth please.”
Mark pressed six and then moved closer to Kate. He placed his hand against the side of the lift above her shoulder.
“The evening doesn’t have to end here, does it?” He said looking right into her eyes.
Of course she understood then. Of course she got what he meant, particularly when he added. “After all we both have suites don’t we?”
It would have been so easy to say no, to have avoided answering, or to have skirted round the issue. It was simply the sort of ‘try on’ that happens in business hotels all the time. The type of situation that occurs so frequently when male and female work colleagues stay away on business. It would have been straightforward, uncomplicated, not insulting and probably the wiser thing to do. But as Kate looked into Mark’s eyes, saw the lust that was there and realised that it was an almost zero risk or downside situation, she wasn’t thinking straightforward, uncomplicated or wise, she was thinking other things and she was feeling the buzz. Thus, as he moved his face towards her she didn’t move away.
As the lift stopped, they finished the kiss and Mark said, “Yours or mine, Kate?”
It wasn’t easy for her to accept at first. It’s hard for a married woman, with two kids to experience such massive sexual standards and moral behaviour changes. It is quite some challenge for her to take on the idea that at the age of nearly forty three she has become something of a bike, an easy lay, a bit of a slapper. Alright, she didn’t put it about that much, she didn’t go clubbing or out on the pull and she didn’t seek out men to fuck, but she was, without doubt, by most social reckonings, on a slippery, downward slope.
Something seemed to erupt in her just about every six to nine months. She couldn’t put her finger on what triggered it or why it happened and she certainly couldn’t anticipate it, but, and it was becoming like clockwork, it happened.
She and Mark had a brief fling, probably a couple of months, if that. After that first night, they both, more sort of as a duty than through any strong urge, met up a few times and had sex. It wasn’t bad, it was alright, ok is probably a more apt description. There wasn’t any magic, though, no real spark, neither were particularly turned on by ‘their affair’ and for Kate, it just didn’t have the buzz, the longer the affair lasted.
It had had it though. It had had a buzz, of that there’s no doubt.
It had had it in that lift, when they walked to his suite and when they kissed inside it. The buzz was certainly there as they stood beside the bed and they kissed as he slowly undressed her until she was left in just her bra and panties. She felt it acutely as she lay on the bed and watched him undress in the dim light and she felt it even more strongly as naked, he lay beside her. The buzz became louder as she held his cock. It became more pronounced as he removed her bra and she helped him fumble her panties down and off her legs. It turned into a roar as, eventually, after twenty odd years, a cock other than her husband’s slithered through her eagerly soaked lips. And that buzz became a crescendo of convulsions and mind crashing sensations as she was fucked by someone other than Paul for such a long time.
Yes, she had some remorse, yes she felt bad and yes she had some guilt, but overall, she enjoyed the feelings she gained when she thought ‘I am having an affair.’
It wasn’t a particularly glamourous affair. Neither wanted or needed dates, lingering dinners, visiting the theatre or walks in the country. What they both wanted and needed was sex, simple, straightforward and uncomplicated sex. And what they got was what so many work colleagues who have affairs endure or enjoy: fumbling, furtive meetings wherever they could be alone together, which rarely includes their own homes.
But, that’s where the buzz came in.
She felt it as they checked into hotels, as she walked alone through hotel lobbies to meet him in the room and, mostly, as she waited, sometimes naked in bed, for Mark to arrive.
It hit her when he would pull her into an empty office at work during the day where they would kiss and he would caress her. It was particularly strong those times when they had agreed to stay late ‘to finish some urgent work’ and they would find a quiet, secluded and safe place where they would not be disturbed. The buzz was especially strong when he fucked on her own desk, in her own chair and bending over her own filing cabinet, for she was reminded of it every moment of the next day.
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