A Slightly Cheating Husband

Written in UK English, I own all mistakes and disappointing contents. This is a short story of one man's limited cheating. The question is this: is cheating the same as pregnancy -- you can't be a little pregnant, you either are or you aren't. Is cheating the same or can you cheat a little and not be a full-blown cheater? I hope any comments may enlighten me. Thanks.

As a young guy I was painfully shy, to the extent that my brain froze when I tried to speak to any lady under 60 who hadn't got one eye in the middle of her forehead and all limbs in working order. In other words, everyone that someone in their late teens could potentially want a relationship with, sexual or otherwise.

At a dance or social event in any sort of club or hotel, I'd muster the courage occasionally to ask someone to dance but that was the easy part. I wasn't a bad-looking youth, nothing exceptional but enough ladies had spoken to me, opening conversations that could lead to more, but then my shyness overtook me and they quickly lost interest.

During my later school days I even had 3 girls of my own age ask me out, via their friends, but every time I blew it and they obviously got the message that I wasn't interested. That couldn't have been further from the truth, indeed one beauty that asked had been the cause of some wet dreams. I was incredibly frustrated and my sex life consisted more or less of DIY sex barring the occasional kiss or fumble with tits, that I just didn't know how to follow up.

And so I entered my early 20s, still a virgin, embarrassing or what? Moving away from home and a new start job in an insurance company. There I met the lady who was to become my wife and changed my life.

How I managed it I really don't know. She was tall with curly dark hair and amazing brown eyes that took my breath away. One Friday evening when more or less the entire office went for a drink, she was across the table from me and where it came from I don't know, but when she made eye contact with me and smiled, I winked at her and contact of sorts was made.

To my great surprise, when I asked her for a date a few days later, expecting to go down in flames, she said yes. Despite being very attractive, she too was quite shy so conversation was muted but as we got to know each other better, my chattiness, which was very evident in male company, started to come out.

After our third date was nearing an end, as I was driving us home, I even asked her would she like to come into my apartment "for a coffee" and she accepted and 30 minutes later I had lost my hated virginity.

Hallelujah, I had broken my duck and with a really beautiful girl. After a few more dates after sex one night we were talking and she told me that the night I'd winked at her, it almost made her tell me to fuck off because she thought it was me being an overconfident smarmy guy. I laughed at that thought, having gone through agony due to shyness.

Even after our first sex, she finally told me after several more nights that she had no idea I'd been a virgin after I'd "confessed", that label now behind me. So I suppose I hadn't been a disastrous lay and she came back for plenty more. Our high point at that stage was one night she stayed overnight. We were using condoms at the time and in the morning, we had used seven of the 12 pack.

Oh, that I could still recover as quickly as then, the joys of relative youth. Two years later we were married, and my lonely adolescence was just a memory. This was all I wanted, never thinking of cheating ... until...

After some years I was still working in the same company, my wife had been transferred to another office, though in the same city. A new hire was a sexy looking girl in her early 20s, about 10 years younger than me.

One day in a storage room she just looked me in the eye and said, "do you think my tits are getting bigger?" a pretty obvious invitation to have a feel of them to check for evidence. Small but perky and I became well acquainted not only with the contents of her bra, but also her knickers.

I would regularly check those breasts out for signs of growth. A hard job to be sure but I willingly took it on. What I never did was fuck her, though I occasionally ate her pussy and her my cock, when we might be the only ones working late. It didn't happen often but she was up for some fun when it did. I had no doubt that fucking was on the cards, but I had two issues.

One I did feel bad that I was not being true to my wife, its classic cheater thinking, I never felt I was taking anything from her and certainly did not love her any less than before Kim (let's call her that) came on to me. I was enjoying a bit extra, I really liked Kim and her body but that was it, no danger of "falling in love".

The second issue was that I was aware that Kim enjoyed having plenty of male attention and she was "playing" to the same or a greater extent with at least one other guy I knew. So, for me, it was an enjoyable dalliance but it was never going to go much further. We mutually enjoyed some groping for many months and that was as far as it got.

After another year my wife and I moved to another city about 50 miles away, again our company placed us in different offices but it was still convenient for both of us.

A few years later, we had a Christmas party at a restaurant in town, the bosses were at one end of the table, surrounded by the usual ass-kissers and the permanently serious co-workers. I was at the other end of the long table with the people who wanted some fun.

It was a night of pretty heavy drinking and as the night went on, talk got looser and a lot of sexual inuendo flying about. No longer the shy boy of my younger years, I declared that cunt is my favourite word and also my favourite body part.

I watched all the ladies at my end of the table, 2 looked a tad shocked at what I'd said, 2 looked interested. That night myself and a few others went to one of those lady's apartment and continued drinking. After a while I had nodded off to sleep, I woke up to see only the lady, Patsy, and one other guy who was snoring loudly, passed out on the floor oblivious to the world.

Interestingly Patsy was also asleep, however she was slumped against me on the sofa, her left hand cupping my package. As I got my wits about me, I felt a squeeze of my balls, so I thought her sleep was probably not real.

I started to explore her body, starting at the back of her lovely neck and heard a little groan of appreciation, so graduated to a very full set of breasts with very hard and long nipples. Ultimately pretences of sleep were gone and when I moved south, she was very accommodating and unzipped the tight jeans she was wearing and said, "See if my cunt is your favourite cunt".

Slipping my hand down her pants there were two pleasant surprises, one she had a mass of pubic hair, which I love and as I discovered a little later, almost dead straight and also I felt the wettest stickiest cunt I'd ever felt. She was completely dripping, it felt thick rather than runny. I took the two fingers that had been stirring her pot and sucked them clean, telling her that her cunt tasted fantastic.

After some more fingering I again removed my fingers and this time offered them to her and she willingly sucked them clean. "I do taste pretty good, don't I?" When I said I'd love her to sit that sticky cunt on my mouth, she need no more encouragement, took me by the hand and we went upstairs to her bedroom, leaving our oblivious colleague on the floor to sleep it off.

OMG, what a delicious cunt she had, I ate it for so long I can't tell you if it was 30 minutes or an hour and as women are lucky to be able to do, she came quite a few times and still wanted more, she drenched my face. She obliged by sucking my cock letting me cum in her mouth. It was now 5 am and I decided I had to get home. She gave me a facecloth and told me probably best not to go home to my wife stinking of her cunt and also let me use her toothbrush, saying she would break out a new one in the morning.

At her door, before my taxi arrived, we kissed a little and she told me that she started to get wet when I started talking about "cunt" in the restaurant. Before I left, she said, "I enjoyed that and you are a top-class cunt-eater, and when you dipped into my asshole, just wow, I nearly hit the ceiling, but you are married and I have a boyfriend, so we won't be doing this again".

Cupping her lovely butt, I agreed with her but told her she had a magnificent cunt and that I would always remember it and I always have. All these years later it's a great memory which I play repeatedly during the DIY sex that I have mostly returned to after decades of marriage when lovemaking continues to be wonderful, just not as regular as I'd prefer.

That was the extent of my cheating, a couple of dalliances with co-workers, one over several months & one that was just a one off. Funny, I really liked Kim, but its Patsy who lives in my mind's fantasies with her super-wet and tasty cunt.

Since then, I've never strayed, I do quietly think that it's a poor thing to cheat, but all these years later my wife and I are still very happy and will live together until death us do part. But a cheater? Yes, however limited it was. My wife remains the one woman I've ever fucked and I'm ok with that. That's some sort of loyalty, though not enough, I know.

Do I regret it? Well actually, selfishly, I don't, I know that maybe speaks poorly of me but because my wife genuinely was never hurt by it, using the cheaters mantra, I choose not to beat myself up over it.