Before J became my Master, I was just looking to get fucked. I had been in a celibate marriage for years, no romance, no sex, shoving my desire into a box that I hid away in a dark corner of my mind. I'd had a D/s relationship before I was married, and while it was sexy and exciting it was also emotionally damaging. I loved my Master, but he didn't love me. It was an obsession that neither of us could put an end to, until finally we did. My marriage wasn't vanilla, exactly, and it certainly was passionate for many years until my husband's health issues and years of grief took their toll. Our dynamic was so challenging I had to maintain control, always. I forgot how much I longed to submit. I became cold, unemotional, a workaholic. I took care of the finances, the household, the child, every aspect of our lives. I had thought for years to have an affair, but I could never have made myself vulnerable in any way with the men I interacted with in my profession. I was one of the few female school superintendents in the area, and not one of the men was even remotely sexually appealing.
After ten years, I could count the number of times my husband and I had had sex on one hand. I had no desire for him, and could not communicate my sexual needs if I had due to the daily power struggle we engaged in. At this point, I just wanted cock-I figured a couple good hard fucks and I could stay in my marriage, make it work.
Over two years into Covid, I finally attended an educational conference face to face. I was the president of the educational organization hosting the conference, and I invited J to come as a speaker. He was well known to the group, and well liked. Though I had only met him face to face maybe twice in ten years and on zoom a couple times during lockdown, we had a telephone relationship where I called and yelled at him for not approving my grant applications, and he tried to make me laugh to lighten the mood but never could. He thought I hated him, his colleagues thought I hated him, and they joked I would probably stab him in the back if we met in a dark alley. In fact, I thought very highly of him in a professional capacity. He, on the other hand, thought I was hot but prudish. He was so wrong about that.
As president, I was the Master of Ceremonies, so to speak. It was my job to make everyone comfortable and run the sessions, introducing speakers, welcoming new members, etc. When J walked into the room, I did a double take. Several women surrounded him, greeting him like the old friends they were. In my head, I was thinking, "That's J? He's cute. He's hot!" His biceps were, shall we say, well developed and I could see tattoos running up into his sleeve. I went over to greet him and could barely stop myself from touching those sexy fucking biceps. I restrained myself, kept a professional distance, greeted him and thanked him for coming.
That evening he spoke at an event honoring one of my colleagues. As I listened to him, as I watched him, I thought, "This is a good man. He's kind, thoughtful, funny. And sexy as fuck." And I couldn't stop thinking about sleeping with him. He's the one I decided I could trust enough to have an affair with. Wouldn't you know it I was wearing a wedding ring for the first time in a couple years?!
