I always thought I was not the kind of woman to have an affair, but there I was in the bed of a man who wasn't my husband, craving the warmth of his naked body and the prospect of him entering me with his erect manhood. I was giddy at the prospect, and my excitement made me want him inside of me more than anything. My husband wasn't a bad husband, not distant and abusive, but circumstance had brought me to this man I desire and I couldn't resist the urges I felt, the desire to have him push into me and come inside me with all of the animal lust I had ever felt.
When his erection touched me between the legs I opened my thighs for him willingly and pushed my hips against his. "Fuck me," I whispered in his ear, although I had never said those words before that moment in my life. As he slipped into me I caught my breath and closed my eyes, opened my legs, and pushed against his body.
He fucked me all right, with an enthusiasm and excitement I had never felt before. We kissed, and hugged, and pulled our bodies together, and I savored the feel of him deep in me as I thrust against his hips.
We'd met at school, where I work, and at first I thought he was arrogant and overconfident, but he was also witty and clever and fun, and before long I returned furtive looks between us. I craved his attention. When he looked at me it was with desire in his eyes and I felt giddy and like a school girl, wanting him to touch me, hold me, even longed for his kiss.
The first time he kissed me it was in the book room between our classes and afterwards we just stood holding one another, then he brushed his hand down my back and placed it on my bottom and I shivered and pushed myself against him, trying to let him know I was available, that I wanted him inside of me. He pulled me against him and I could feel his excitement against my stomach. I reached down and touched him and felt the stiffness in his pants.