Shauna's Infidelity

I woke up, just like that, from crystal-clear dreams -- dreams of making love.

I turned and looked at the clock. It was five forty five am. The sky outside the bay windows was still dark -- not even a hint of sunrise. My husband always arose promptly at six fifteen, with the blaring of the clock radio.

My husband slept, as usual, on the right side of our huge king-size cabinet bed, the side that faced the bathroom door. That way he could shut off the alarm clock, get out of bed, and go to the bathroom to get ready, without disturbing me.

But I was awake anyway. My dream had done that to me. For a few moments, I just laid in bed, staring out the window, listening to the rapid beat of my heart. That dream was so real! I distinctly remembered that the man in my dream wasn't my husband. Matter of fact, he wasn't even black. That didn't worry me -- I'd dated a few white men before I met my husband, mostly in college.

What did worry me was, I was so hot and bothered by that dream, I couldn't get back to sleep. I laid there, very quietly, trying to get my pounding heart to quiet down. But it wasn't going to happen, not anytime soon.

I lifted my right hand and put it on my chest, just in between my breasts, where I could feel my heart beating, even through the slip I was wearing. I cupped my breast with my right hand. I squeezed it gently, ran the tips of my fingernails over my nipple. My nipples were harder than they've ever been.

Why did I have to wake up in the middle of that dream?

The man in my dream was about to make me orgasm! I swear, my dreams have been getting more real, and more arousing, with every dream. Oh my god, I could really feel his arms around me, feel his hard white cock slipping inside me. And for some reason, I was dreaming of being fucked by a strange man from my husband's office, who was visiting our house, for whatever reason.

My left hand drifted down my tummy, under the blanket, and felt for the hem of my slip. I slowly pulled it up, until it was around my waist. I spread my legs, and slipped my right hand in between. I began to touch my pussy, as only a woman can.

Damn, I was wet. I felt the heat. I felt the moisture. I didn't bother lifting the blanket to look down. I didn't need to. I let my fingers do all the work.

First, lightly stroked my clit with my fingertips. It was sensitive as could be. I gently massaged it, feeling the tightness increase. I ran the tips of two fingernails over my pussy lips. The lady who did my nails told me to try this. Damn, that shit felt good.

Without even meaning to, I parted my pussy lips with those two fingernails, and slipped them inside just as easy as you please. A surprised gasp escaped my lips. Oh my god, this shit feels really good!

Oh, my god ... oh, my god ... I'm coming! ... Oooohhhh!

But my craving was not satisfied. I was all hot and bothered, with no place to go.

I looked at my husband's sleeping form, as he lay on his back, at his smooth dark mahogany skin, that was three full shades darker than my own. At his lean muscular arms, that I loved to be held in. His ripped midsection, that I loved to tickle. At the little patch of curly hairs on his chest, that I loved to scratch. My gaze slowly traveled up to his placid face, and lingered on those full lips I loved to kiss.

It used to be that I would be the one to wake up my husband, not some alarm clock. He would always leave for work with a smile on his face.

I'd start with soft gentle kisses, tender caresses, and then I'd whisper in his ear, until his eyes opened. I would wake him gently -- unless I was in a horny mood, like I am now. Then I would wake him in a more direct fashion, with a little under-the-covers oral action. It's been a long while since I've woken him like that -- my husband has fallen into a routine. I suddenly decided it was time to break the routine for a day.

I crawled across the bed and slipped under the blankets.

I eased between his legs, letting my breasts brush his thighs. Very gently, so as not to wake him quite yet, I used the tips of my fingernails to spread apart the fly on his boxers. I hauled out his limp man hood, put my lips around the head of it, and swirled my tongue around. I felt it become hard just about right away.

I eased his cock further inside my mouth and began to suck on it, leisurely and smoothly. But it's been too long for me as well. I started getting into it. Smooth silent sucking soon gave way to noisy slurping.

It wasn't too long before I felt Andre start to wiggle and squirm.

Sure enough, my husband said, "Okay, Shauna. I'm awake." He pulled the covers to one side like he always does.

I looked up as I sucked him. Then I paused in my sucking. I lightly stroked his erect cock. I grinned at him. "Good morning, sugar." I looked down, at his cock, then back up at him. "Looks like part of you is already up."

Andre chuckled. "Yes. It certainly appears that way."

"What say we take advantage of it?" I didn't wait for an answer.

I took off my slip. Then I straddled my husband and held his cock with one hand. I rubbed the round head against my pussy lips. I felt the head part my pussy lips and slip inside, and I sank down on it. The rest of his cock easily slipped inside my pussy.

With his entire cock inside me, I leaned forward, so my hair fell in his face, placed my hands on his chest, and kissed him on the lips, as I lifted my booty up a little, dipped it low, and picked it up slow. Oh my god, this shit feels good!

Andre's alarm clock went off, right on time. I was expecting that. I wasn't expecting him to look at it and gasp, "I'd better get going."

Lift, dip.

"Excuse ... me?"

Lift, and dip.

"I said, I'd better ... get ... going."

Lift, dip. Lift, dip!

"I ... heard you ... the first time."

Lift, dip, lift, dip!

"Then you'd ... better ... get off me."

"But I wanted to get you off. I want to make love to you, Andre."

I lifted myself upright and started to move up and down on his cock faster. I could not believe how good this shit felt!

Then suddenly Andre grabbed my waist, and rolled over so he was on top.

"Oh, you want this pussy? Take this pussy, Andre." I wrapped my arms around him, arched against him, closed my eyes, and prepared myself for ecstasy.

But then, just as suddenly, it was over!

Andre actually pulled his cock out of my pussy -- and started to get out of bed!

I blurted out, "Just where the hell are you going?"

"I've got a long day ahead, Shauna," he grunted, swinging his legs out and putting his feet on the floor. "I've got to get ready."

I moved over to the edge of the bed, kneeled behind him, and put my arms around my husband's neck, before he could stand up. I tried a softer approach. "Andre," I said in his ear. "It's been a long time since we've made love. Please, come back to bed."

"I don't have time for hanky-panky."

"I have time. It's been five months since we last made love. Five long months." I kissed along his shoulder, to the nape of his neck, and finally to his earlobe. "What say we break that streak, sugar?"

"Not today." He pushed my arms away.

"No, please." I begged him. "I'm almost there, sugar. Please."

"Sorry, Shauna."

As he stood up and went to the bathroom door, I saw that his cock was still erect. It was standing out, hard and straight, which totally ticked me off, because I was the one that put it there, and dammit, I was horny!

"Sorry? Do you know how fucking horny I am?"

"I'm sorry." He closed the bathroom door.

I poked out my bottom lip. "You're sorry. Right."

My husband emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, wearing a towel, fog escaping as he opened the door. By this time I had put my slip back on, and was sitting on the bed, my arms folded over my chest, my legs folded underneath me Indian style.

He moved across the room, to his side of the walk in closet, and began dressing methodically. I watched him in silence, until he moved over to the dresser, selected a pair of cufflinks, and then began tying a necktie.

I met his eyes in the mirror. "I hope you haven't forgotten about the party."

"The dinner party? No, I haven't forgotten."

"Good."

"I hope you invited everyone."

"I've invited a few people. We still have room for one more."

"Any ideas?" he asked.

"Why don't you ever invite your friend over from work, Bruce Cameron? He's the one person you're always talking about."

Andre nodded. "I'll invite Bruce to dinner sometime."

"Good." I didn't bother smiling.

He finished tying his necktie, and turned to face me. "Were you going to get your nails done today?"

I put on a fake smile. "Yes. Then I'm meeting a friend for lunch."

"Okay, have a nice day."

I continued to watch my husband with animal intensity. "Thanks. You, too."

Andre grabbed his briefcase and his keys, and headed for the bedroom door. I fell back on the bed, and made the strangled moaning noise of a very frustrated woman.

Bruce

I was in my office, going over some papers and other junk. It was Friday, and the dress code was business casual. My clothes were casual -- grey sweater, grey trousers, grey blazer, black shoes -- but the word of the day was still business.

I heard a brief knock on my office door. I looked up. Andre stood there. Andre was Mr. Black Business Man personified. He was about my height, with chocolate brown skin, close cropped curly black hair, and a neatly trimmed goatee.

"Hey, buddy," I said.

"You don't mind if I step inside for a minute?"

"Nope, come on in," I said. I glanced at my watch. It was just after 1030 am. "Aren't you supposed to be on your way to the airport?"

He was dressed in an unusually casual mode, for him. He wore casual blue slacks and a matching golf shirt. "Yeah, I am. But I wanted to let you know, I had Tiffany email you a list of all my clients, and their contact info."

"Thank you."

Andre glanced at his watch again. "Listen, Bruce, I got to be going. See you next week. Don't work too hard, buddy."

I grunted. "Yeah. I promise."

Andre rapidly moved to the door, opened it, passed through, and closed it quickly. I waited ten minutes. Then I lifted my office phone. "Heather?"

"Yes, Bruce?"

"Can you please have Tiffany come in to my office, to go over Andre's client list, when she has a chance?"

"Certainly, Bruce."

Five minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I looked up. Tiffany Mayes, Andre's secretary, stood there. She was black like her boss, but fortunately, the similarity ended there. She had chocolate brown skin, coffee brown eyes, and straight black hair that shimmered under the lights, and went past her shoulders. She also had a traffic stopping figure, including large breasts, and nice wide hips. As usual, she was dressed right out of a fashion magazine -- short sleeved turtleneck top, knee length black leather skirt, and knee high black leather boots with 4 inch high stiletto heels.

"You wanted to see me, Bruce?" Her voice was as smooth as honey.

I nodded. "I did, indeed, Tiffany. If you could please fill me in on who exactly these people are, in this client list?"

Tiffany smiled that beautiful smile of hers, showing off cute dimples. "I would love to do that for you, Bruce."

It took nearly an hour and a half to cover them all. I rested my head in my hands. "I have no idea how I will remember all this crap."

Tiffany smiled again. "Don't worry, Bruce. That's what I'm here for."

I smiled briefly. "Thank you, Tiffany. You'd better get back to your desk."

"Okay, Bruce."

I glanced at my watch again. It was nearly lunch time! I put on my blazer, picked up my canvas knapsack, tucked my newspaper under my other arm, and left my office.

As soon as I stepped out of my office, my blonde secretary Heather Dawson rose from her desk. She was dressed in a plain blue cotton top, black skirt and matching leather pumps, her blonde hair all wavy.

"Going to lunch, Bruce?"

"Yes. If anyone calls, just take a message. I'm turning off my cell phone, too. If they want to leave a message on my voice mail, they can."

"Okay, Bruce. Have a nice lunch."

I continued striding, across the room, past Cassie at her desk, and out the door.

"Bruce?" Cassie's voice stopped me in the hallway.

"What's up, Cassie?" I tried to be patient. All I wanted was to get out of here.

"Lana wanted Andre to sign these papers before he left, but I wasn't able to catch him." She had an apologetic expression on her face. "I was wondering, if you knew were he was going, if you can have him sign these?"

I sighed. "Sure." I took the papers.

"Thank you, Bruce."

I strolled out the door and waited for the elevator impatiently, trying not to think about how this was going to reduce my "lunch" break into a "driving out to Andre's house and back" break. I only hoped I could catch Andre at home, before he left.

The elevator finally arrived. I got on and took it to the ground floor.

I got in my car, tossed my stuff in the passenger seat, turned the ignition on and drove away. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to the curb, grabbed Andre's paper work, and jogged up the walk. Somewhat out of breath, I rang the doorbell.

I vaguely remembered him mentioning his wife Shauna once or twice. Hopefully, she would be at home and not out getting her nails done.

It wasn't more than a couple minutes later, that Shauna herself opened the front door. She was wearing an orange velour hooded top, unzipped far enough to show a little cleavage, and matching drawstring pants. She was barefoot. She wore no makeup. Her hair was an untamed, sleep tousled corona around her face. I've never seen anyone look more beautiful. She was about five-two, her figure exquisitely proportioned. Her orange outfit went perfectly with her butterscotch skin.

As soon as she opened the door, I could see the sadness in her eyes. "Hello."

"Hi," I said back.

"Can I help you?"

"You must be Shauna."

She laughed. "Why, yes. And who am I speaking with?"

Duh. "I'm Bruce Cameron, Andre's partner."

Her face brightened up. "Oh, so you're Bruce! So nice to finally meet you!"

She moved closer, held out her arms to me, and gave me a surprisingly friendly hug, that lasted a long time. She was soft and warm. Her breasts felt nice against my chest.

"Feeling's mutual." I found unexpected comfort in her hair.

After a while, she pulled back slowly, so her hands brushed my arms, until she brushed my hands with hers, which were soft and cool, and then she stepped back. "So. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, sugar?" Her eyes were bright. She was standing in the doorway, her right hand on her waist, her left on the door frame. I couldn't help but notice, she long French nails.

I cringed, afraid to hurt her feelings, but plowed ahead anyway.

"Is Andre still here? He said he was coming home to get some stuff before he went to the airport."

Shauna shook her head. "I'm sorry, Bruce, but Andre hasn't been back home since he left this morning."

"He told me he was coming back home to pick up some stuff."

Shauna replied, "And he told me he was going straight to the airport from work."

My hand clenched around the papers I was holding. "Damn."

"I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't anything important."

I made myself smile. "Nope. Just some papers he needed to sign before he left."

"And he didn't sign them, I take it?"

I sighed. "Nope."

"How are you, sugar? You okay?"

"Yeah." It was more a reflex response than a real reply. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that you seem pretty stressed out. Long day?"

"Yeah. A long day. That's not even finished."

"You must be on your lunch break, huh?"

"Yep."

"Had to spend it driving all the way out here?"

"Yeah."

She opened the front door wider. "Won't you come in for a few minutes?"

I shook my head. "Thank you for offering. But I wouldn't want to impose."

Shauna shook her head. "Don't be silly. You won't be imposing."

"You sure?" I sounded stupid, even to me.

"Yes. Come on in. I was just about to make something for lunch."

"Okay." I gave in, and came inside.

Shauna closed the door behind me, smiling a welcoming smile. She took my hand in hers, and escorted me out of the foyer. "Come on into the living room with me, sugar. I'll bring our lunch out here."

"Sounds nice."

"Can I take your jacket?"

"Sure, yeah." I felt her hands on my back as she helped me out of it.

"Have a seat on the couch while I hang this up for you."

"Thanks."

I went over to the couch and plopped down gratefully. I looked around. I thought about how the same house looked completely different in the daytime, much like Shauna herself. I took out my cell phone and instant messaged Heather at the office -- Taking a long lunch break, be back by 130 pm.

Heather messaged me back: Don't have too much fun!

Shauna disappeared for a minute back into the foyer. I heard a closet door being opened, a hanger being taken out, cloth rustling, then a door closing.

She had the TV on, watching some soap opera. She came back from the foyer, and sat down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. She reached for the remote, and turned the volume down on the TV.

"I'm actually glad you had to drive out here. I usually don't have many visitors."

I smiled. "Not the way I would usually spend my lunch break," I said. "But yeah, this is pretty nice."

"Is my husband working you to death?"

"It feels like it. Especially when he goes on these trips, and leaves me all alone to decide everything."

Shauna made a sympathetic noise, then got up and said, "I'll be right back, sugar. You just make yourself comfortable."

Shauna

Leaving Bruce waiting on the couch in the living room, I went into the kitchen.

Bruce made me weak in the knees, standing there on the doorstep in his suit. He was looking fine as hell. Too bad it's casual Friday. But still though, he looked fine as hell. He had the most gorgeous green eyes, and I longed to run my nails through his short dark brown hair.

I took off my rings and dropped them in the silverware drawer.

Then I took a plastic container out of the fridge and popped it in the microwave.

I hadn't been lying to Bruce -- I was just about to make lunch when he arrived. It was just so much nicer to have someone eat lunch with me, than to eat lunch all by my lonesome. It was especially nice to have Bruce with me.

The house has been quiet all day, since I woke up very late this morning, alone, by myself. As usual, my dreams visited me in the night. And, as usual, I woke up during the freaking. But my dream still had that white man's face.

My husband had the nerve to ask if I was awake, before he left earlier this morning. His puttering around woke me.

"Unfortunately, yes." I didn't bother to sound chipper. I hate mornings.

"I don't have a lot of time. I just wanted to let you know, I'm going straight to the airport from work."

"Then you'd better be going."

"I promise, Shauna, I'll make it all up to you when I get back."

I suggested, "You could make it all up to me right now." I could hear the heat in my voice -- and the hope. Andre had no idea how wet I was under the sheets.

"Not right now, Shauna. I have to go."

"Then go." I rolled over on my side, fell back to sleep, and returned to my dreams.

It seemed like I'd hardly closed my eyes, when I woke up, to bright sunshine coming through the window. I looked around me, to discover that Andre had gone -- and it was after ten!

I changed out of my white slip, and into my favorite orange velour sweats. I had a definite air of sadness. It was as if I had said good bye to my marriage this morning, as well as to my husband. Then I'd sat and watched TV, until Bruce showed up.