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One Man's Affair

By: tantricjim



I received an Email from a lady name of Emily about one year ago. The note promoted a rush of memories of events long past but that seemed as fresh as if they had occurred days or weeks previous. 

I have had only one extra marital affair during a long marriage, and Emily was the 'other woman'. Along with the romantic and erotic memories that returned, I also recalled my deep sense of guilt and the terror of being found out.

I was very surprised to hear from her given the unpleasant parting all those years ago. The decision had been hers to end the affair, but I had experienced a sense of relief.

She now lived on a ranch in the country, something that I would never have expected of her. She had seemed such a cosmopolitan and urban woman. I had expected that she would have remarried, but she had not. 

She brought me up to date on her life since we had last met. She asked if I knew what had happened to some of the people with whom we had both worked. 

I responded to her note and we began a weekly exchange of letters. It did not take all that long before the erotic aspect of our relationship became part of our notes. 

"Do you remember that first night at the Hyatt? I thought that dinner would never end," she said in one letter.

The correspondence became very explicit as we compared our memories of those very intimate times together. 

"I can still remember sliding my hand up under your satin slip. I can feel the silky skin of your ass cheeks to this day. You were on top of me and my cock was not yet in your pussy. Do you remember that?" I wrote.

She told me that she had never wanted another man after our affair. She had taken many short-term lovers but could never bring herself to marry any of them. "I went out with a lot of guys, and some of them got lucky, but in the end they did not seem right for me." 

Twenty years previous I was managing an operation in a remote area. It was seven days a week of tough demanding work. My only break, aside from an annual vacation, was to report to a regional office in the city every month or six weeks. The office had, in addition to a VP to whom I reported, contacts for a variety of corporate disciplines. Emily was my Human Relations advisor.

We clicked nicely from our first meeting. She was always pleasant and helpful but it was all business. Matters stayed that way for several years. 

When visiting managers came to the city, it was the usual practice to invite a few of their head office contacts out for dinner or drinks at the end of the day. After all, we had the expense accounts. I did that quite regularly, but really only invited the guys in the office. 

Most of the ladies were married and I never considered inviting them out for anything more than the occasional lunch. I had the impression that the only ones in the office who were open to spend my expense money were the single guys. Married folks tended to clear out at one minute before five to beat the rush.

On one occasion Emily asked me how it was that I, as well as the other visitors from operations, never invited the ladies out after work. I admitted to not having thought of them as being available. She smiled at me and said that she was perfectly available. I promised to invite her on my next trip. 

A month or so later I called ahead and asked her if she was free to go out for dinner the next evening after my arrival. 

"Yes Jim, I would like that very much. I'll go home from work early and be back at your hotel by seven. How does that sound?"

I was more than a little excited. She was a nice looking woman; interesting in conversation and always smartly dressed. She was divorced and had a young son at home. Emily was an English immigrant and had the soft appearance I think common to many English women. It usually sheathes a tough interior. My expectations for the evening, were no more than that I might be allowed to kiss her goodnight.

She was waiting for me in the hotel lobby and looked very lovely in a peasant blouse and flared skirt with heels. The outfit was much more revealing than was her normal business suit attire. She appeared to be more rounded and the word "svelte" comes to mind. And she smelled good.

I had made reservations at the hotel's upscale restaurant and we were ushered to a secluded section with love seat on one side of the table and a chair on the other. She surprised me a bit by sitting on the love seat and patting it beside her in invitation. She claimed that she did not hear too well and did not want me to have to shout.

By the time cocktails were served, Emily was very close to me and her near breast was nudging my elbow. Christ, I was hard as a rock. She ran her tongue around her lips as she fastened her eyes on mine. 

I had never made a serious move on 'another' woman since my marriage over twenty years previous. I was not pure of thought by any means, and had often flirted with women but usually only after a few drinks. 

My marriage was solid and our sex life as good as I would ever want. My wife and I socialized with a group of friends of our own age and circumstance. We got together regularly and our house parties had taken on an erotic edge. We played adult games and flirted with the mates of others. In other words we were exploring a world we had always considered verboten. 

Now I was sitting beside an attractive woman who appeared to be ready for anything that I might be bold enough to attempt. I was charged up and scared shitless in the same moment in time. I had no idea how one made the next move.

I need not have worried. Emily pretty well ran the show. I sat there with my tongue out and an erection in my shorts. Her breast was now continuously rubbing my elbow and upper arm. The hem of her dress was half way up her thighs. She smiled at me, "You seem a little flustered Jim. Am I sitting too close?"

"Oh no, not at all," I lied. And then looking down at her breasts and back to her eyes, "But I am thinking quite a bit about what you have in that bra."

She giggled, "Actually it is not really a bra but a strapless camisole. Maybe you can see it a little later." Then a pause, "As well as what's in it."

Man, I almost passed out. This had already surpassed any other conversation I had enjoyed with a woman outside of my wife. I was quite emboldened now, and looking down at her lap said, "Ah damn, and what are you wearing instead of panties?"

She laughed again, "My goodness, there are a lot of issues to cover aren't there. I guess we will have to wait until later to have them resolved. Maybe we can resolve them in your room." She ran her hand from my knee up to my crotch. Her eyes burned into mine. 

She closed her eyes as I ventured my hand along the inside of her knee and up to the skirt hem. I knew what was ahead, and it would be more than a kiss goodnight.

Of all the explicit detail that I recall of that dinner, I can barely remember the meal itself, the service or how we left the place. Was there any music? Did I tip properly? I do recall going to the bathroom and trying to take a leak with a hard-on and becoming all sweaty and flustered at the lack of results.

We did not have an opportunity to kiss until we entered my room; the elevator had been full of people. I must have tried to put the key card in the slot five times without success. I think that Emily finally resolved that issue. I nailed her up against the wall just inside the door and tried to rub and kiss every part of her all at one time. 

We sort of danced our way over to the big window, lips and bodies clasped as one. We were on about the 40th floor and the city was spread out beautifully before us. I did not take time to enjoy the view. 

I pulled the top of her peasant blouse and camisole down to expose her breasts. I have never seen anything like her nipples. They were stabbing out at me like the first digits on a forefinger. I bent my head and sucked one into my mouth; it had the consistency of a jujube. 

She murmured, "God Jim, I have not been kissed like that since I was a teenager. And the way you were looking at my breasts in the restaurant almost made my nipples burst."

I could see the reflection of her back in the window. I lifted the back of the skirt up to expose her ass cheeks. It was so damn erotic. We kissed passionately while I fondled her ass. I bent down to suck on the elongated nipples dangling out over her bunched up clothes. 

She stopped me at this point, straightened herself up a bit and said, "Let me get ready for you, why not order a porno movie while I am in the bathroom." We kissed again as she felt my cock and said, "I can see you are ready for me." 

She left and I did as asked. I still have no idea who or what was in that movie. I stripped down to my shorts, and suddenly realized with something akin to horror that my cock was soft. I lay back on the bed and tried to get hard again. 

She must have been prepared for this evening, because when she returned to the room she was wearing a satin slip or nightie. It was short, barely covered her ass and supported by string shoulder straps. My eyes fastened on the sight of her tits moving under the nightie as she approached the bed.

She crawled up on her side and pulled a tit out as we kissed. "More on the nipples please," she moaned.

I was only too happy to oblige. Aside from the pleasure we both gained by me sucking her nipples, I hoped that it would also promote some lead for my pencil. She rubbed my cock through my shorts and then slipped a hand inside.

"Oh goodness," is all she said, as she held my semi-hard cock in her hands. She scooted down the bed like a crab and had my cock out of the shorts and in her mouth in seconds. It really felt good, but the damage was done and of course I tried too hard and thought too much for it to revive.

She came back up and kissed me. "Poor baby, too much excitement for you?"

I asked her, "Would you like me to go down on you Emily?"

She smiled at me and said, "That would be lovely."

For the most part, any sex that I had experienced up to that point in my life had been in the dark or under the covers. My wife and I had been naked in the shower and seen each other dressing of course. But usually when sex time rolled around it was dark and the lights were out. Here I was about to go down on a relatively strange woman in a fully lit room with a porn movie flickering over my shoulder. It was a new experience.

I started at her nipples and worked my way down, kissing and licking as I went. She raised her knees up as I moved down between her legs. I was looking right at an open pussy inches from my eyes. It really looked small, almost virginal I thought. Smugly, the thought passed through my mind that I might not have been able to get my cock in her anyway.

I am very good at pleasuring a pussy and especially the pussy of one who wants it licked. And Emily did enjoy it. "My God that's good, oh Jim, keep your tongue there, yes, yes. My clit, my clit, suck it please. I want to come Jim, can I come now?" 

She clamped her knees to my head; thrust her hips upwards while holding my head in her hands. She did not cry out, she just moaned and sighed and vibrated. I felt redeemed and relieved that I had managed to get her off. But my cock was still at half-mast and the feeling of embarrassment soon returned. 

Emily said, "That was so very nice of you Jim. Don't be so upset. There will be other times. I want to stay the night with you. My mother is with my son and I have told her that I might not be home tonight."

Quite frankly, I did not want her to stay. But I did not have much of an argument to make and simply told her how much I would like that. She went to the bathroom to tidy up and returned and crawled into bed beside me.

I fell asleep very quickly despite the strange body near me in the bed. I did not attempt to cuddle or touch her. At some point in the early morning I awoke to the very pleasant feeling of a mouth around my cock. My hard cock I hasten to add. I lay on my back and just reveled in the feelings of delight. She was an expert. Her touch was electric. She seemed to know exactly what worked.

She slid up beside me leaving her hands free to work my body. She cuddled my balls gently. Her hands hovered over me, sending electric shocks to different areas. She brushed the very tips of the hairs on my bush. My cock stiffened even more as if a magnet was attracting it up to rub on her palm. 

One leg moved up over my belly, the soft skin of her inner thigh subtly jerking me off as it rubbed my cock.

I reached down to feel her ass and realized that she was still wearing that satin slip. I moved my hand up under it, sliding it upwards until I held a cheek in my hand. My fingertips slid into the crease and down towards her butt hole and pussy.

She moved almost imperceptibly to bring her one leg right across me until suddenly my cock lay along her slit, the knob slowly parting her lips. 

Then without any effort on my part, my cock slid half way into her and then she was sitting over me, lifting the slip off over her head. Those enormous jabbing nipples bobbed and jerked over my face as she maneuvered to get all of my cock into her.

She settled down with her hands on my shoulders and started fucking me. "Let me do this Jim, I have dreamed of you being in me for months."

I did and she did. It was glorious and I was pretty much hooked on her. We fell asleep once more and the next thing I knew it was morning. She had just returned from the bathroom and was kneeling over me. The front of her slip was hanging loose, exposing her tits and those impressive nipples. Her eyes were smoky as she gazed down at me. She said that she had ordered room service.

I reached inside the top and felt her nipples; I just could not get over the damn things. I pulled one out and sucked it. She rolled to her back beside me on the bed and lifted the bottom of her slip up to her hips. 

"We don't have much time," she murmured. 

I climbed aboard and just plain fucked her.

She scrambled out from under me and ran to the bathroom when room service knocked on the door. I tried to be nonchalant but the guy had a snide or knowing look as I tipped him generously.

Emily did relieve my mind a bit by not going in to work that morning. She told me that she had not told any one at the office about our dinner date and suggested that I not mention it. I did not really need that advice. And so started my only affair. 

The day at the office was tough enough. I was deadly afraid that somehow my wild night with Emily would be evident in my manner. To say that I was distracted would be an understatement.

But the flight home followed by a car drive of several hours was pure anguish. What the hell had I done? That will not happen again I told myself. The guilt of it was oozing out of my pores. I shuddered. My wife would know as soon as she saw me, of that I was certain. Women are like that, so fucking perceptive. It was a combination of guilt and terror at being found out that forged into revulsion at myself during the several hours of travel.

It was late evening by the time I arrived in my home town and I went to the Office for a few minutes, as I often did, to make notes and complete any jobs requiring my immediate attention. 

I called Emily at her home. My intent was to apologize, as I believed that she must have been feeling as badly as I. She was purring when she answered, and I knew that I would need some more of her honey the next time I was in the city. I knew most of all that she was ready to give me all that I wished.

The affair lasted a little over six months. Each meeting was more intense and fuck filled than the last. Each return home was filled with terror and remorse, soon followed by a phone call to Emily and the cycle repeated. She was an addiction that only seemed to surface when I was due for a trip to head office.

I could barely wait to be alone with her on my arrival in the city. This need buried my guilt during the time I was there. Although I sometimes told myself that this would be the last time. 

We became crafty and deliberate in the office. It was in her interest as much as mine to keep it all between us only. I continued to take the guys out for dinner or drinks. I would slip her an extra key so that she could be waiting for me in the room when my evening with the boys was over.

She kept things interesting and new each time we met. It could be a form of role-playing, erotic clothes or edible oils, all of which were new to me. I teased her butt hole with a finger one night and she decided that she wanted me to bum fuck her. A tube of jelly on the dresser on our next meeting was the clue that she was serious.

Strangely my sex life at home had become richer than it had ever been. The house parties that we attended grew progressively more experimental and flirtatious. My wife and I were comparing notes on which of the others we might like to play with.

I often wondered in later years what had driven me to the point that I had entered into the affair with Emily. I watched a movie a few years after my encounters with her that resonated.

A successful businessman in his mid forties, married with adult children and a very beautiful loving wife, suddenly went rogue. He bought an expensive car, gambled and drank, and started banging a young mistress. When his best friend asked him what the hell he was doing, his reply was, "I am tired of being the Dad."

I suppose one can rationalize anything. At the time of my affair my life seemed to be full of demands by others on me, both at home and at work. It seemed that I had no time or money to do all that I wanted. I never expressed it in those terms to anyone including myself. So possibly I was just tired of being the Dad.

The affair ended one night on a visit to the city. I had arrived in the evening and checked in to my hotel. By chance, a neighbor had come to the city that night and checked in to a room on the same floor. I called Emily and told her that she could not come for the night. She did not believe my story and told me that if I did not want her to come, that it was all over with us.

I could almost feel the sense of relief flood through my body. It was so damn strange. I had passed from the desperate desire to fuck her all night, to that of being free of her at last.

I was to see her at the office a few times before I moved away. I often passed through the city in later years and called her several times, just to say hello. It is possible that I hoped that she would want to come and spend another night with me. However, she was never particularly friendly toward me on those calls. And then she was no longer in the phone book and I assumed that she had remarried.

A number of years later, we moved to that same city where I worked in the business core. I was always looking for her on the street. She had disappeared from my life and the only remnants were the memories of those exciting times. 

And then I received the E-mail. More than twenty years had passed and the effects of time show in both of us. We have enjoyed recalling the details of those meetings, but I believe both of us know that the beauty of it will only be retained by never trying to relive it. 

She indicates a desire to meet with me when she comes to the city. She suggests that we could just meet over coffee. But I prefer to remember her, as we were when she demonstrated her intense desire for me. And so I have not encouraged her to think that we will ever meet again. 

And yet -------