Walking into the bar I was more nervous than I'd been in years. The old me, the me from just 6 short weeks ago, would never have dreamt of even entering a place like this, let alone meeting up with a woman I'd found online. But you see six weeks is a very long time and I needed to feel alive again. I needed to feel lust and passion and desire. I needed to see what I was missing and I really needed a great fuck.
Striding into the dark bar I tried to hold my head high and extol a confidence I didn't really feel. Turns out I didn't need to bother. Nobody even looked in my direction which would have hit my confidence had it not been for their attention firmly focused on the almost naked woman on stage.
Part dive bar, part burlesque house, the Silken Kitty was famous for its cheap beer and beautiful women and I'd been surprised when she'd suggested we meet here. Now as I focused on the dark haired beauty on stage and recognising her as my Midnight Angel it all became clear.
It probably seems like a strange thing to do considering the circumstances but at the time it seemed like the perfect solution. My husband and I had been married for 6 years and things were currently far from good. I'd had my suspicions that he was cheating, no-one works hours that long, not even him. We still had sex but it was perfunctory, vanilla sex.
The only foreplay consisted of him squeezing my tits for a few minutes before flipping me over to fuck me from behind. I didn't even bother to fake it any more, I'd just wait for him to slip out of me and fall asleep before getting up and going to my bathroom to finish myself off.
It had only been like this for the last few months, before that our sex life was dynamite, there was nothing off limits to us and we would routinely make love for hours. We'd had a similar episode early on in our marriage, a few months where he'd taken to sleeping in the spare room and avoiding my attempts at seduction.
I'd addressed it then and he'd told me he was stressing out over the corporate takeover he was overseeing and that he didn't want to take it out on me. I knew he was a busy man and I'd accepted his reasoning then but something now told me that work wasn't the issue.
Being the third wife of one of the richest men in the state I knew just how many women coveted my position. He was a catch, handsome, sexy, smart and richer than Croesus. There wasn't much a woman wouldn't do to land a man like that. I knew because I had done just about everything to become wife number 3.
I'd been a highly successful CFO in my own right and being head hunted by his Company at the age of 27 had been the highlight of my career. Suddenly I was launched into the big time and was handling the kind of numbers that could finance a small country.
The responsibility was immense but I've always been a Type A personality and loved the pressures of working in such an intense environment. Two weeks after I'd started I'd been called into his office to be introduced to the big boss and that had been it.
Just being in his presence made my skin tingle and within minutes I was in full blown lust. As we talked about trajectories and planned projections I couldn't stop myself picturing him naked, fucking the shit out of me and giving me the kind of pleasure I'd only ever read about.
I knew he was married, I knew he was older and I knew he was my boss. I had been hired because of my reputation for getting things done, and in that instant he was what I wanted to do.
It was easier than I'd thought. A few weeks of flirtatious looks and increasingly lower cut tops and suddenly I was invited out for drinks to "celebrate" my first month in the job. Sitting in the bar of a very upscale hotel we drank champagne and talked about business and my goals for my career when he leaned forward and told me he wanted to fuck me.
Within 10 minutes we were inside the penthouse suite and he was inside me and it felt incredible. Everything coalesced in that night, chemistry, lust, passion and we had the kind of sex people dream about. It was hot and sweaty and in his arms I was a wild woman.
Within a month I was living in an apartment in his building and his wife was being served with divorce papers and within a year we were married. I stayed as CFO until our wedding and dedicated my life afterwards to being a full on corporate wife.
It's my job to look the part so my days are filled with personal trainers, aestheticians, visits to the salon and manicurist. My breasts have been surgically enhanced, I've been liposuctioned and last year I underwent a vaginaplasty. And through it all, well except after the vaginaplasty, we have fucked like animals.
On our wedding night I gave him my ass as his wedding gift and as he buried his cock inside my body he told me that I was the woman he'd been waiting for, the perfect combination of beauty, sex appeal and intelligence. His former wives had just been a necessity to allow him to build his business and now we were together his life was exactly what he'd dreamed of.
We really did have it all, I loved my life, I worshipped my husband and our sex life was completely uninhibited. For the next 6 years we travelled the world, dining in the finest restaurants, drinking the best champagne and fucking in the classiest hotels the world had to offer. I wanted for nothing... until 2 months ago.
My first suspicion was his disinterest in sex. Aside from the few weeks he spent in the guest room and my rest periods after surgery we had fucked at least twice a night for 7 years. That's about 5000 orgasms minimum. At first I'd been worried that there was something wrong health wise, he was in his mid fifties and as strong as his libido was, Viagra had been invented for a reason. As I opened the door to his den to ask him if he was okay I found him masturbating furiously as he watched porn on his iPad. So that answered that question.
A search on his browsing history showed he was watching porn daily and that he seemed to be into brunettes, particularly long haired perky breasted brunettes with bare pussies. My tits were the best money could buy so a trip to the waxer and the colourist later and I arrived at his office naked under my coat to test my suspicions.
His look of surprise at my hair colour soon changed to one of lust as I dropped my coat and he seemed mighty interested when I knelt before him and took his cock deep into my throat. At home that night he went down on me for hours until I was incoherent and boneless before turning me onto my stomach and riding me hard to completion.
Satisfied that I've solved the problem I made weekly appointments for my hair maintenance and carried on as normal, relieved that my husband could still get hard for me even if I had to go from blonde to brunette to do so. My relief however was short lived and after a few days, we were back to our old routine.
My second suspicion was his increased absences, working later and later during the week and having to suddenly drop everything to fly out for a weekend conference. I was used to him having to go away but this was becoming a regular event.
Previously I'd fly down with him and explore whichever city we were in while he had his meeting before falling into bed on his return. This time he told me not to worry, that it was too last minute and I'd be too much a distraction. As always he called me every day and always brought me back a gift but something felt odd.
Even during phone sex where he would always call me by my name suddenly he was calling me baby. Not "Oh Mellissa, you're getting me so fucking hard!" but "Yeah Baby, you're so fucking good!" I've read enough Cosmo to know that men using nicknames is not a great sign, if he's calling you by your name he knows exactly who he's with but if he's calling you a pet name it's usually to avoid calling you by someone else's.
Between the nicknames, the porn and the short lived renewed interest in me as a brunette I was sure that there was someone else. I didn't want to believe it but I was wife number 3 myself so I wasn't blind to the situation. I had been the younger, hotter babe who lured him from his ex so it seemed plausible after all this time that I too would be replaced. Nothing between us had really changed but the grass is always greener and I would be fooling myself if I'd thought this would never happen.
Thankfully our pre-nup was ironclad and if we did divorce I would be taken care of. If we divorced as a result of his infidelity then I would get almost everything so I was pretty confident that whilst he was probably fucking someone else our marriage would remain intact. It hurt like a mothafucker but I knew things would be okay. His infatuation would burn out and hopefully we'd return to how we were.
Of course life has a habit of kicking your ass. He came back from his trip with a stunning diamond bracelet and flowers and went back to his routine. We still had sex every night with me on my stomach and him taking from behind with routine precision. I tried to get into it but every time I got close I'd picture him fucking one of his porn girls or any number of brunettes in our acquaintance and I'd dry up like a flower in the desert sun.
I became obsessed with knowing who she was and stalked his email like a crazy person.
