She?s Married and My Perversion

Hi, my name is Jason. Perhaps it is a fetish or perversion of mine but married women turn me on. It is having something I shouldn’t have. It usually starts so innocently. A smile. I do her a favor. Usually, it is with older woman. I am there; relaxed and waiting, a ‘nice’ guy.

If analyzed, my perversion is probably deep-rooted. I grew up father-less. Most of my male role models were my mother’s boyfriends who were most interested in fucking her. My first experience with a married woman was with one of my mother’s friends. She was my mother’s age, thirty-eight, and that made it exciting. She liked nurturing me, a virgin less than half her age, between the chores I was suppose to be doing at her house.

My second romp was with a married woman that I worked for in a retail store. I was the initiator of this second affair; although, she was somewhat easy. Occasionally, her husband would stop by the store. To me, I liked when he did. I was real friendly. She tried not to be nervous but I knew she was and that turned me on. Her nervousness would make me want to fuck her right afterwards and that usually happened. She was so conflicted. She would normally cry after we did it and I would comfort her. Then the cycle would start again. Once we got into, she had the hormones of an eighteen year old. She got married and settled much too soon. After a while, I suspect her husband caught on so I backed off and quit the job. I did miss bopping her in their bed between my classes at the university. She was a psychological conquest for me.

I’ve had girlfriends the last several years but marriage, etc, doesn’t really appeal to me. No surprise?

Life for me is fairly easy. I am a programmer at fairly large company. I like computers, the Internet, etc, and I get paid well.

Then I met Jamie. She’s a bit of bitch. She’s not my boss but she acts like it. She looks so beautiful in that business suit. Busy; rushing around. I am glad that she does not know what is on my mind. I think of her husband fucking her. I think of her going home, taking off those clothes. Oh, her breasts are so beautiful. Wonder if she masturbates.

Everything about her is flawless – her hair, her clothes, her curves, etc. She’s so articulate. At 28, she’s about four years old than me but she looks so young. As a senior project manager, she has a better job, she has a great car, owns a big home with her husband, talks about her fabulous vacations, etc, etc, etc. Pretty much out of my league.

She stops my cubical frequently; she likes to talk. I just let her go on. I’m kind of quiet and just listen or, at least pretend to listen. Although her eyes tell so much more about her and I don’t miss a thing. At first I was not interested, other than looking at her, smelling her great scents, and my dreams. She seemed so much beyond me and my previous experiences.

Today we have a meeting with some users. She is really good at leading the meeting. If it wasn’t for her, it would be just another boring-ass meeting for me. I look at her lips and visualize how these might look locked around her husband’s large (?) cock. As she turns to put more frigging action items on the whiteboard, I wonder what color panties she has on. Boy, would I love to be sucking on that pussy and tongue fucking her wildly.

Once I got to know her, I was surprised at how insecure she is on the inside. She’s so confident on the outside but so worried about job, position, and even looks. ‘Gosh, does she ever relax,’ I wonder.

Occasionally, we walk to meetings together. I like being with her and people seeing us together. Her pretty blonde hair flips when she walks. Then one day we go lunch. There is a bit of uneasiness in the air. Did she feel this too?

Then one day she bushes up against me; her breast lightly against my arm. Does she feel it? I did. I went home that night and thought of her. I was long and hard and fucked her in my dreams. Oh, I want her.

Tonight, after work, I drop her off at the car dealership for her car. Just a little thing. She looks so good sitting in my car. Her legs are beautiful. She pulls to cover them more. Hope she didn’t notice me looking or, perhaps, I do hope she noticed me. The chemistry builds. Does she sense it? I’m sure she does; it’s so thick. Does she know she is playing with fire. As I open her door, she thanks me and touches my hand.

We talk more and more. I ask about her husband. When she first started working here, she talked on and on about him. It was nauseating. Now her answers are positive and brief and she changes the subject. Her mouth says one thing; her eyes another. I bring up the topic occasionally, just to put her on the defensive and perhaps to make her think about what she is doing and what I, or we, are about.

We occasionally stop after work for a drink. Then one day, I knew she was having a difficult day. We stop after work for a drink. She tells me her husband is traveling. Is that a sign; a hint? She drinks more than usual. Later the music comes on. She gets up to go to restroom. On way back, she gives it a little dance. I take the hint and join her.

She is a great dancer and the alcohol is taking affect. We dance more and closer. At times I look in her eyes. We kiss. She pulls away wanting to stop but then comes back – stronger and longing more. We're there.

Why? She is incredibly beautiful. She got married - more of a fashion statement. How can he ignore her so – mentally, emotionally, and physically. He seems so cold and self-center. Oblivious to everything except for his money and golf. As his pristine and petite wife lets me pull down her panties and suck and fuck and play with her. Our fling lasts about three months. I liked talking with her. Sexually, she was a bit of purist. But we changed that. She thought I was innocent. I liked the first night that she shyly and reluctantly masturbated for me. It was her first time doing that. She had a terrific orgasm. She liked being told what to do.