What is it about the forbidden fruit that makes it taste so damn sweet? That's what I kept asking myself as I drove to work on a cold December morning, having just dropped off my daughter at my wife's best friend's house. My wife was back to work part time, so we shuttled our daughter between a number of sitters, and my wife's friend, Tammy, volunteered for a shift one day a week. Tammy's little boy is almost two, just a few months younger than our daughter, so the kids get to play together. We had been busy with this convenient little routine for about six months and it was going well.
I guess I should back up a little bit to give some background to what happened that particular December. Sometime around September, my wife and I were putting dinner together after our daughter was asleep and she mentioned how concerned she was about Tammy. Apparently, Tammy had been feeling pretty lonely and ignored by her husband, who was always working. She started hinting to my wife that her needs weren't being fulfilled at home, and she was shopping elsewhere. This revelation had my wife extremely preachy that night about the sanctity of marriage and the importance of communication. It just gave me a chubby.
You see, Tammy had been on my little dick-brain for quite some time. She was certainly not the neighborhood hottie, but there was something so undeniably sexy about her. She had this way of making me think naughty thoughts by just walking in the room, even if she wasn't wearing or doing anything special. I think it was the fact that she was a couple of years older and was a mother, which I find strangely appealing. But that's a whole separate story. The bottom line was that I had been fantasizing about fucking Tammy ever since I first laid eyes on her, and now that I knew she was good to go, my fantasy was in overdrive.
For the next couple of months, I dropped my daughter off on the way to work once a week as usual. Tammy and I exchanged appropriate pleasantries and I left quickly before my hard-on started to bulge the front of my pants. It was really ridiculous when I thought about it later on the drive to work: she always answered the door wearing laying-around clothes, with her hair pulled back in a quick ponytail and no makeup on. Nothing about her look screamed, "Fuck me!" but that's all I could think of doing.
Finally December rolled around and the cold weather moved in with a vengeance. One morning I pulled up in front of Tammy's house to drop my daughter off for the morning. As I came around the car to unbuckle my daughter, my foot slipped off the curb and into a puddle, soaking my foot. I mumbled a curse as I undid the car seat and lifted my daughter out of the car. When we got to the front door, Tammy was already opening it so we didn't have to wait in the cold.
I stepped into the foyer and undid my daughter's coat so she could go play right away. It was her favorite day of the week because she had a play pal, so she never wanted to waste time saying goodbye to dad. While I was working, Tammy noticed my wet foot and pant leg. I told her that it would probably just dry by itself, but she began insisting that I should put my shoe by the heater and she could put my sock and pants in the dryer. She would lend me a pair of her husband's pants and we could have a quick cup of coffee while everything dried. "The kids won't even bother with us, they're always so busy playing," she told me. "OK," I said, "I guess I can be a little later to work today. I'll just work through lunch to make up the time."
"Great," she squealed as she ran into the bedroom for a pair of her husband's pants. She reemerged and tossed the pants to me, telling me to get changed in the bathroom while she started the coffee. When I was done, she scooped up my pants and the one wet sock and headed for the laundry room. Once everything was drying and the coffee was poured, Tammy told me to get comfortable in the kitchen. She turned to bounce out of the room and as I sat down I watched her go, keenly aware of the fact that there were no panty lines visible in the snug yoga pants hugging Tammy's cute little ass. Whether there was a thong or nothing at all under there, my dick was intrigued and my mind was filling quickly with filthy thoughts.
"I just have to go check on something and I'll be right back," Tammy announced as she hurried from the kitchen. When she came back a few minutes later, I was looking at the morning paper that I had found on the kitchen table. Tammy's clothes looked the same at first glance, but I felt like something was different about her. She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat next to me. My cock got a little bit harder knowing that she could have taken the chair across the table, but she chose to be near me.
"Anything interesting happening?" Tammy asked, motioning to the paper with her eyes as she lifted her cup to take a sip of the still steaming coffee.
"Not really, just the usual stuff about wars, murders and corrupt politicians," I replied in my best sarcastically smug, man-of-the-world voice. I smiled self-deprecatingly and she chuckled, noticing for the first time that I had the paper open to the comics.
"Wow, good looks and a sense of humor...Susan is a luckier woman than I thought," she purred in a voice that was unmistakably flirtatious.
"Well, I was voted 'class clown' in the third grade," I teased. She leaned back as a fit of laughter overtook her and that was when I realized what had changed since she ran off to the bedroom. She must have removed her bra, because when she arched her back slightly, I could now clearly see the dark circles of her excited nipples as they poked through the fitted pink t-shirt she wore. Her breasts were very small and firm and her nipples were so hard I thought they would tear the fabric to get free.
Tammy caught me eyeing her chest hungrily and I could see from the look that came over her face it was exactly what she had wanted. I realized in that instant that I would soon be faced with a serious moral dilemna. To cheat or not to cheat. In a way, the betrayal of my wife had already taken place in my mind. It was only the physical act that was left.
"Paul, I think you are so great, and I think you and I have a whole lot in common," Tammy began. "I mean, Susan and I talk about a lot of stuff and sometimes she tells me about how strong your sex drive is and how hers just doesn't keep up."
My face must have turned a dark shade of red and I started to mumble a protest, but Tammy kept talking. "It's OK, Paul, I want you to know that I understand that frustration, too," she continued, "because Mike is just like Susan and I'm just like you. I wish Mike would fuck my brains out every night and every morning, but he just isn't into it very much. I end up taking care of myself all the time just to get through the long dry spells.
