A Very Different Ind of Affair

This story is about an adulterous affair I had, and includes descriptions of cheating / cuckolding. If that bothers you, read no further.

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Hello, my name is Alex. I am 28 years old, I am married, and a mother of three. I am 5'2, I weigh about 120 lbs., I have a firm round ass, and small perky tits. Several years ago, I cheated on my husband and had two separate affairs with guys that I worked with. This story is the beginning of my second of these two affairs. The first one is described in my three-part story "Young Wife Finds a Lover at Work." If you would like to read them in order, this one takes place after Young Wife Finds a Lover at Work Chapter 2.

Just in case you didn't read my other stories, I will quickly describe the situation. I had been married for a few years, my husband and I had two kids, and a pretty good life. Two new cars, a big apartment, and my husband ran his own business, and made pretty great money. I worked at a factory, and essentially, out of a combination of horniness and boredom, I turned into a bit of a slut. I had been engaged in an illicit affair with a coworker named Tom for a while now, but that was cooling off, as he had recently started dating someone else, and so I was back on the prowl, looking for some new cock to fill the void.

This is where Eric would come into the picture. He was new at the factory, and so he didn't know anything about me, or my rather spotty reputation. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and he put effort into conversations with me. He made jokes, and went out of his way to make me laugh and smile on a regular basis. Now, if we are being honest, this didn't matter too much to me, because I wasn't looking for a meaningful relationship, just another casual fuck buddy. Someone I could meet up with, bang, and get into otherwise erotic situations with, and then go our separate ways.

It only took about a week for him to get the idea. We had been casually talking for a few days, before the flirting started. Nothing too overt, just little things, like how easy it was to talk to him, and how cute I looked when I wrinkled my nose. Stuff like that really got the ball rolling. Of course, I needed him to know that there wasn't some fairytale ending for the two of us, so I did mention that I was married. This was also my way of testing the waters. Most people, or at least I should hope, would stop the flirting, or at least go no further, because "I am married," generally means "I'm not interested" or "I'm Taken" in polite society. However, as I would discover, Eric was not exactly a gentleman.

If anything, the information that I was married only made Eric more interested in the flirting, and risqué talk at work. We swapped phone numbers, followed each other on Instagram, and even swapped emails, as a backup. It of course started out casually, just light conversation about what we were doing outside of work, but it evolved quickly. I found out pretty quickly that he liked to talk dirty, and not just in general, but specifically about the fact that I was married. He insisted that I call my husband "hubby", which I had literally never done before. And he wanted to hear me complain about my hubby. Now, truth be told, I didn't actually have a whole lot to complain about. My home life was pretty great. My husband was a hard worker, but made time for me and the kids, provided more than we needed, and is great in bed. But that didn't stop me from lying, especially when I saw how excited the trash talk got Eric whenever it would come up. This always gave him the opportunity to compare himself to the fictional image of my husband that I presented.

I started off slow, as it excited me to play the naïve innocent wife who was being corrupted and seduced by the aggressive coworker. I would say: "My husband never makes time for me," and Eric would respond, "A real man would take advantage of a girl like you." When I said, "My hubby doesn't compliment me," Eric would say "With an ass like that, he must be a moron not to worship it." And on and on it would go. It wasn't until one night of sexting that it escalated out of control shockingly quick. We were texting back and forth, exchanging pretty lewd messages, when I decided to send a picture. It was simple, just me, lying in my bed, on my stomach, and a picture of me looking up at my phone. Of course, I made sure the angle showed my ample ass, and winked as I took the picture. I waited for a response, holding my breath, expecting a "nice ass" or "sexy", I wasn't expecting a picture. But, after a few minutes, there it was. Nothing fancy, just him, standing up with his rock-hard dick in his hand. Now, I'm not a connoisseur of cocks, I haven't had that many in my time, but I do really like them. This one wasn't massive looking, but it looked big enough that I wanted to try it. I could tell he had been stroking it at least a little, because the tip was glistening with what I assume was a good amount of pre cum. I just texted back "Looks good, can't wait to try it." With a picture of me biting my lip.

This was all getting me pretty hot, and without really thinking about it, I was rubbing my pussy while looking at our conversation. I was wet and my panties were getting soaked, and I could tell that my thin pajama pants were starting to get damp. I was looking at the picture of his cock, imagining what I would do with it, and I knew I had to make a decision. I either had to move somewhere less conspicuous and finish myself up, or stop and clean myself up. I was leaning towards stopping, when I got the last message of the night, "Tomorrow." That's it, just one word, and it was all I could take. I frantically started to plunge two fingers into myself as hard as I could, and built-up speed working myself towards an orgasm. I wanted it to be a good one, so I slid my other hand down the front of my pants, and started sliding three fingers back and forth across my clit. As I felt the orgasm building in my stomach, I pictured Eric's hard cock, pointing straight out at me, leaking copious amounts of precum onto the floor. And there I was, kneeling on the floor right in front of him, mouth wide open like a whore, slamming my hand into my pussy and watching him jerk off. I love watching guys jerk off for me. Especially up close and personal. This image sent me over the edge, and I sprayed inside my panties, soaking them through, and wetting my pajama pants. I kept playing in it for a few minutes before calming down. I then quickly hopped out of my filthy soaked panties and pajama bottoms, tossed them into the hamper, and jumped into the shower. When I was all soaped up, I snapped a quick picture showing my soapy bare ass, and sent it to Eric with the caption "Can't wait 😉." After my shower, I dried off and went straight to bed. I was like a kid on Christmas eve. I couldn't wait for morning.

The next day at work, I was in a constant state of high arousal. I could feel my pussy rubbing against the soft inside of my satin panties. I could feel the moistness coming from inside, coating my labia, and sliding together as a walked, intentionally swishing my ass whenever I was near Eric. I could practically hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and I could consistently smell the lusty odor wafting up from between my legs if I bent over to pick something up. I couldn't remember the last time I had worked myself into such a frenzy.

The only issue was that we were not working closely with each other that day. We were in the same department, but not on the same line, so it was all sideways glances, and quick gestures. It wasn't until my first break that something finally happened. I was leaving the line, about to head for the breakroom, to have a drink, check my phone, and maybe even have a snack. But I saw Eric walking quickly towards me, and signaling to follow him. We walked towards the rear of the room we had been working in all day, he stopped, looked around, and when he could see no one in sight, he opened the door for the rear staircase and we both stepped inside.

For clarity, the facility we worked at was two stories, and had a basement. The room we were working in was at the back of the plant, and had an upper story, and a lower level, which we were working in, and also a storage area in the basement. It also had two staircases, on opposite sides of the room. Everyone always used the west one, no one ever used the east one, as it was further away from the breakroom/time clock. It was basically just there for fire safety purposes. In any case, once we were inside, my eyes quickly adjusted to the darker lighting, and we rushed down the flight of stars to the basement. There, Eric shoved me against the wall, and started to aggressively kiss me. I was not expecting this, and frankly, I did not like it. For me, it was like what I imagine kissing a prostitute would be like, and it didn't turn me on at all. When I struggled a little bit, and tried to free myself, he held me down and I realized I was totally out of control here. That did get me excited, way more than I imagined anything could. I thought I was going to burst right through my pants and cause a slipping hazard.

We did not have much time, and we both knew it. I tried to free myself again, and Eric shocked me when he almost yelled, "Hold still, and let me do what I want slut! I know you want it." Again, this scared me quite a bit, but the dirty talk, and the feeling of powerlessness made me a little weak in the knees. I just reminded him that we only had a ten-minute break, and needed to hurry up. He nodded and turned me around. I was worried that he was about to fuck me, right then and there, three hours into my shift. If we got caught, not only would I lose my job, but my husband would surely hear about it, and that would be the end of my life as I knew it. But he didn't pull my pants down and fuck me. He reached one hand around my throat and lightly choked me, and slid his other hand down the front of my pants. He was not going slowly either. He dove right in, under my wet panties, and shoved two fingers straight up into my pussy. Now, I was wet, and ready, but it was still rigid, rough, and hurt pretty bad. A stifled a cry, and he growled into my ear that if I made any more noise, he'd choke me out.

I didn't want that, and I was extremely horny so I just stood there, and took it. He pumped away for a while trying to slam his fingers as deep into my wet cunt as he could reach before getting frustrated and demanding that I unbutton my work pants. We only had about three minutes left in our break, so I quickly complied, and undid the button and slid the zipper all the way down. He grunted approval, and started really hammering away with his fingers, it was rough, and hurt, but it was also bringing me dangerously close to an orgasm. I tried to whisper that I was about to cum when he moved his hand off my throat, and clamped it down firmly over my mouth. He slammed his fingers into my twat three or four more times before it hit. The orgasm that was building in my belly pulsed through me sending waves of violent pleasure up my torso, and down my legs. I buckled and dropped. I thought he would catch me, but he quickly pulled his hand free of my pants, and as I dropped to the floor, he told me to clean myself up, and stalked up the stairs and out the door. What else could I do? I pulled my still wet panties up over my sore cunt, buttoned my pants, and zipped them up. When I walked out into the factory and towards my line, I could feel my sore cunt, and looked down, and was horrified to see the crotch of my pants looked like I had wet myself. I quickly got back to my line, and tried as best as I could to hide it.

I worked for a few more hours before my next break, expecting to see Eric heading my way again, but he didn't. It looked like he was heading towards the breakroom, so I figured he must be hungry. He went straight out to the parking lot, presumably for a smoke. I was however very hungry, so I just carefully sat down and ate my lunch quietly while watching my phone for texts. After my fifteen-minute break was up, I went back to my line and got back to work. Perhaps two minutes later I saw Eric walking in. He looked pissed. He stared daggers right at me, and I was actually a little scared, and I had no idea why he looked so mad. Two hours later when it was time for my last ten-minute break, I figured out why.

I walked off the line, intending to head for the break room, when just like before, Eric was walking briskly towards me, and this time, grabbed my arm, and pulled my back to the stairwell. When we were safely inside, and down to the bottom level, he slapped me, and nearly yelled at me, asking "Why the hell didn't you follow me to the parking lot? You little bitch? You think you can get what you want and I'm not going to get my rocks off?" I was apologizing and saying I didn't know, when he just put his hands on my shoulders and forced me down to my knees. He unzipped his pants pulled them down just below his ass, and told me to get to work. I reached up slowly and pulled his boxers down exposing his penis less than two inches from my face. I tentatively grabbed it, and lightly stroked it. I was still pretty turned on, and wanted to have fun, as I like to play with cocks, but he was not interested in that. He grabbed my chin, and pulled my face up so I was looking up at him and grunted, "If I haven't cum by the time this break is over, you'll regret it."

With that, I got to work. I nodded at him, trying to look as submissive as possible, hoping he would ease up on me, and take it easy a little bit. I Then narrowed in on my target, his erect, angry looking penis which was so close I could almost taste it. In all honesty, it was not a bad cock. Looked pretty similar to my husbands in fact. It was probably a little over seven inches long, decently thick, with a slight upward curve to it. It was so hard it was almost red, and he was leaking pre cum pretty heavily. The only thing I noticed was that while my husband's cock has a roundish sort of bulbous head that is slightly wider than his shaft, Eric's head was actually narrower than his shaft, in fact, I would describe it as pointy. In any case, I knew I needed to hurry up, so I reached out, grabbed it firmly at the base and reached out with my other hand to massage his balls to get things going. They were heavy hanging globes that felt slightly greasy to the touch, and smelled of sweat and ass crack. As is tarted to rub them between my fingers and pull lightly on them, I plunged forward and sucked his waiting cock into my warm wet mouth.

We both loved this blowjob, but for apparently different reasons. I was horny, and wanted to experience some strange cock, and it made me extremely excited to be kneeling in the basement of my workplace with a stranger's dirty cock in my mouth. He however, was focusing on something else. As I started to slide my mouth up and down his cock, while tugging on his balls, he put both his hands on my head and started to fuck my face. Slowly at first, but progressively speeding up. He asked, "Well slut, do you like that big hard cock in your mouth?" I looked up at him with his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, and tried to say yes, but all that came out was a gurgled "mphhh" as he sloshed in and out. Then he tilted my head back down and started to hammer in and out rapidly as he kept spouting little profanities, like "fuck yeah", "you dumb whore", and "I bet your cuck hubby doesn't do it like this." I just closed my eyes and focused on my work. I made sure to maintain a light suction seal around the base of his dick and was working on his balls with both hands.

I could tell that he was getting close because his balls were contracting, and he was jamming his cock all the way to the back of my throat gagging me with each push. Then he stopped and pulled all the way out, and I was worried he was going to spray his load all over my face. But he just pulled my face up so I was looking at him, and said "I bet your little dicked hubby hasn't worked that mouth like this. Well, has he?" He looked down at me, and he again looked angry, I knew I had never mentioned the size of my husband's penis, and this didn't seem like the right time to say that, if anything it was a little thicker and longer than his. I knew what Eric wanted to hear. He wanted to hear me, a married woman, who was sucking his cock, and being treated like a whore say that my husband had a small dick, and couldn't satisfy me. He got off on the cuckold fantasy, and he saw himself as the big dicked bull. Ironically, not out of loyalty or anything noble, more like pride, I didn't want to say what he wanted to hear. I just nodded, and went back to try sucking his dick to finish him off, but he stopped me and said he wanted to hear it. I pushed back to try to get his dick back into my mouth, but he stopped me, and again slapped me on the cheek. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes from the pain, but I didn't want to look like a baby.

I looked right into his eyes, and gave him everything he wanted. I grabbed his iron erection in my left hand, clenched my teeth, and said, "I want this big hard cock in my mouth. I want you to skull fuck me until you blow your load down my slutty married throat. I want to taste your hot sticky cum and suck your big balls dry." He smiled at that, but I could tell he wanted more, and it had to be about my husband, so I relented and gave even more. "My little dicked hubby can't compare to this monster," as I said that I gave his dick a squeeze. "He can't even get hard, and if he could, I wouldn't want him anyway, because I know that you are so much bigger." And I felt his dick spasm in my hand, and felt his balls tightening up in my other hand, so I quickly plunged back down onto his cock, swallowing the entire thing into my throat. His fantasy was all about cuckolding. He came with almost no stimulation, just my dirty talk, and more from stroking his ego than his cock. Now, with his dick engulfed in my mouth, I sucked hard, I squeezed his balls with my right hand, and pumped the base of his shaft with my right hand. I pulled all the cum out of him I could get until he was begging me to stop.

After swallowing what was one of the biggest cumshots I've ever experienced, I stood up straightened my hair. I was mad that he had been so rough and mean to me, but I had learned that the way to make him happy, and control him was to dial up the cuckolding talk. He wanted to fuck a married woman and have her tell him that he was so much bigger and better than her husband. I decided, I could do that. I grabbed his cock as it was deflating, and gave it a good squeeze, and said "Let's do this again sometime, but next time, don't hit me." I expected him to be a little more charming again after orgasming, but that side of him was gone. He just looked at me and said, "Next time don't piss me off, and I won't hit you." Then as he pulled up his pants and stuffed his shrinking cock back into his boxers he spit in my face, and said "Just be a good little slut, and do what I say, and we'll have a lot of fun."

I felt dirty, humiliated, abused, scared, and physically sore. Part of me wanted to run, to tell someone, to get away, and quit so I would never have to see him again. But, part of me wanted more. I wanted to be treated like a slut, and fuck him again and again. The slut part won out.

To be continued...