Pam knew what she was doing was wrong, even as she clicked on the button to see if she had a new email from James. It was wrong for several reasons that Pam could think of, and probably several more that she couldn't. Not that she wanted to think about morals, or ethics, or any of that crap. She wanted to think about James and the emails they had been sending back and forth. The fun, the excitement, the risk; all that made their little "affair" worth having, and worth keeping it from being analyzed. Right vs. wrong --that didn't matter. It didn't matter to her that she was sending naughty emails from her work computer. It didn't matter that they were being sent and received on company time. It didn't matter that Pam was a married woman or that James was a married man. It didn't matter that James's wife was one of Pam's best friends or that James was one of her husband's closest friends. It didn't matter that James and Pam's children were friends, or that they knew each other's families. Nope, none of that mattered to Pam, and she doubted that any of it mattered to James either. What mattered were the intensity of the emails, the urgency behind them, and the question of what to do about the sexual tension that was mounting between them.
There was no new email yet but Pam wasn't surprised. It would be hard to top that last one. What started off as "I think you would be good in bed." then escalated to "I bet you would like to suck on my cock." to "I would love to slide my tongue in your pussy and taste you." and then to more detailed descriptions of what James would like to do to her. Of course, her replies were to describe her fantasies to him as well.
"I would suck your dick down to your balls and let you shoot your load far down my throat." and "I would stroke your cock while you were ramming it in and out of my pussy from behind." and other such fantasies. Lately, the fantasies were more in-depth and longer than they had ever been, and included such realistic plans to get together that Pam and James both knew it was only a matter of time before they crossed that line and met up in person to try them out. With that thought in mind, Pam checked her email one last time, to no avail, before she clocked out and went to lunch.
Arriving at her car in the back parking lot, Pam was surprised to find James leaning up against it, with a huge grin on his face.
"Get in," he told her, "You and I are going to lunch."
Pam got in the driver's seat, a little bit nervous, yet excited at the same time. She asked James where to, and he told her just what she wanted to hear -- right down the road to his place. By the time Pam pulled in to his driveway, she was already wet and anticipating what would happen when they got inside. Everything was left to her imagination, as James didn't say a word to her during the ride there. But when they got to the house, James unlocked the door and let Pam in to his bedroom -- a room she had been in several times, but until now, each time had been completely innocent. Not this time, Pam thought as James undressed her with an urgency that she never imagined. Running his hands over her breasts, and then down her belly, across to her ass, and then down her legs, he let out a moan before ripping his own clothes off. Pam could feel her heart racing, and knew it was only partially due to nerves.