Allure: Aren Begins

"Even though hubby and I have danced around the subject of me going outside of our marriage ... I can't help but have this lingering sinking feeling that no matter how much I tell myself cheating won't change the love I have for him, something has got to change, right? My respect for us as a couple? Respect for myself? I torture myself with these thoughts. This is such a big decision for me."

Karen read the words again. The post hit home with her. The woman who had written them seemed to share some similarities, to have some idea of the things going through her own mind. She herself had never even danced around the idea of her own infidelity with her husband, but the decisions she had made seemed to put Karen in this other woman's company. She had been reading the boards on Literotica for some time - first, she had rationalized, to find ideas to spice up her marriage. She was honest with herself, though, and soon accepted it was for her own erotic stimulation.

The thought of a kindred soul was comforting, but she knew she had to travel this road alone.

A graceful, intelligent 36-year old wife and mother of a 10-year old daughter, Karen had been married 12 years. She had never physically broken her marital vows but she had entertained the fantasies and thoughts. She did not feel unique in that respect. Her husband had been the beneficiary of her delectably decadent thoughts on occasion, back during those times early in her marriage when she actively worked to be the best wife a man could have. Her friends would have been somewhat surprised at just how much her sexuality meant to her, because she treated it as a treasure that would lose its allure should she expose it to the light of day.

Reading the posts and stories on Literotica and other sites fueled her desires and gave her ideas, but her mind was too strong to lose herself in a sexual frenzy that would cost her everything she had built in her marriage.

She shut down her computer and set about finishing her packing. The trip would be short, a couple of nights in Atlanta, at her employer's quarterly meeting. After her daughter had entered first grade Karen had looked for something to keep herself busy. The part-time job selling cosmetics was what she settled on. Being part-time it would leave time for her family, and it would also offer some additional money for vacations and such. The two reasons that had convinced her, however, she had not shared with anyone.

She had always been intrigued by what made women attractive to men sexually. In this job she would get to continually consider that thought, how different women chose to go about it, how she could focus the cosmetics to achieve diferring results in the actions of the men towards the women wearing them. Her client list grew as her success in helping women become attractive became evident.

Most importantly, the company required her attendance at quarterly work sessions, out of town. Away from her family.

She had long ago calculated that the only way she could maintain her family life, and satisfy that lustful whore within, was to have some time away from home where she would be free to fuck other men. The job gave her the perfect cover. The reasons she gave her husband and family for taking the job - keeping busy and bringing home extra money - fit perfectly with the persona that was familiar to her family and friends. Frugal. Good wife and mother. Smart and personable.

She wasn't sure when she came to accept the fact she could fuck other men and keep it a secret. Not be bothered with guilt, at least not so much guilt she could not bear. Perhaps she had seen too many people die with lives unlived. Maybe she was simply too well-read to accept less than life could offer. It had long ago ceased being an issue with her, all that was in question now was the timing.

She took no extra care packing for this trip, even though this was the trip where she would break those marital vows. Her outward calmness and methodical behavior stood in contrast the significance of the step she was about to take, had long planned to take. Only occasionally did Karen entertain the smallest of doubts.

Like the woman posting on Literotica, she wondered how things could stay the same in her marriage, after she invites another man into her.

*

Karen looked out the window on to downtown Atlanta below. The Marriott Marquis was quite a tall building, and the height offered the chance for a tremendous view. But many of the surrounding blocks were at best bland, and at worst seedy. The view put her in a mood to contemplate the baser human vices ... and the baser vices of her own. It seemed to get her wetter every trip, her mind and her pussy, contemplating that view and those vices. The knowledge that she planned to descend from the heights to meet them took her breath away. She stood at that window for some time.

In the past three years Karen had come to know most of the women attending the quarterly meetings. She came to know them by face, by personality, by reputation. She had developed her own reputation amongst the women, of being no-nonsense, hard-working and friendly. She wasn't one of the women who played around on the road, and those that did stayed away from her in the evening hours. Perhaps they were afraid of her condemnation, more likely they didn't need a goody two-shoes slowing them down. Karen wanted it that way. She knew if she started fucking around too soon her chances of being found out would be greater, with her husband still sensitive to the change in her life, getting used to her being away from home without him, even for those brief times. He needed time to convince himself she wasn't going to do what she was going to do.

She had the patience of Job.

She had long ago learned that different things suited different people. She had followed the adventures of another wife on Literotica, posting pictures of herself in various locations around Florida. Her husband was her partner, photographing her in various teasing and revealing positions. She enjoyed reading of the experiences but she did not envy her - it was not something she desired. There was one comment the exhibitionist made, though, that she herself had taken to heart.

"He was a stranger that sent me a message out of nowhere. The appeal of a stranger comes from the lack of closeness. We were sharing something intimate, but it wasn't personal. The way I made him feel by just looking and smelling was very erotic and sensual. Being a girl rocks!"

The men she would journey with would be strangers, no strings, no chance of spoiling her present circumstance, either by him falling for her ... or her falling for him. She wanted the physical intimacy ... and nothing else. Her husband would likely be very happy to learn she was so satisfied with their marriage that she would never consider leaving. He would likely be hurt that she still needed another man's cock. The loving wife Karen would hold him to ease his pain at the knowledge, but the no-nonsense Karen would tell him to get over it, because the inner whore Karen was getting fucked and there was nothing he could do.

*

Karen stepped onto the elevator alone, pressed the button for the lobby, and began her ride. An observer watching the glass elevator descend would have spied an attractive woman in a simple black cocktail dress, tastefully adorned with just enough jewelry to draw attention. They would not have seen her stomach churning, nor the resolve in her mind to introduce her whore to a stranger this night. She stepped out into the lobby and headed for the rear entrance, as her destination was the bar in the Hilton across the street. She did not want to attract the notice of her fellow beauty consultants, and she had long surmised the Hilton's bar as the best bet for discretion and safety. Even in that short walk, however, waiting for the stop light to turn her way, the vices of the street seemed to surround her. The obviously wealthy guests of the hotels hailing cabs, crossing streets, were complemented by street people, low-level employees and others that seemed up to no good. It took her all of two minutes to make it from the Marriott lobby to the Hilton lobby, but in that time she was struck with curiosity about what evil they were planning ... and whether any was as bad as the respectable wife crossing that dark street to get a taste of extra-marital cock.

She walked through the automatic door into the lobby, which was not too crowded, and she headed straight for the bar. It was an open area off the main seating area, with couches and tables. The hardest thing she had ever done in her life was take a seat at that bar. She had sat in similar chairs many times previously, but this time she felt she was wearing a sign that betrayed her purpose. The bartender was very attentive to the attractive woman who had graced his bar, smiling at her. She ordered a glass of chardonnay, and waited, wondering if the bartender's smile was too knowing.

Karen sipped the wine slowly, alternating the sips with stealthy glances at the other patrons. Which men were looking for her kind, which could she bring herself to fuck. In her fantasies she had almost always been besieged by attractive men in the bar. Here there were normal-looking men. Not unattractive but different than the images that for so long had driven her. She took another sip and breathed deeply. She had been there about 10 minutes, but no man had taken possession of either chair beside her. The bartender began making small talk, which was a welcome relief to the silence, but she wondered if that might dissuade some from coming to her.

Her fears were proved groundless when a man took the seat to her right, between her and the wall. He saw what she was drinking and asked the bartender for the same. After a couple of false starts he introduced himself to her.

"Hello, I'm Jed."

"Hello Jed, I'm Karen." She awkwardly offered her hand for a handshake. He awkwardly accepted it.

"Here on business Karen?"

"Yes I am, how about you?" Karen started running her finger round the top of her glass, feeling that her plan was succeeding.

"Same, I travel quite frequently. I am in sales. You?" Jed stole a glance at her legs.

Karen chitted while Jed chatted, each imagining the events of later in the evening. As the evening wore on Karen occasionally locked eyes with other men in the bar, but Jed had her attention. Not out of any infatuation with Jed, but simply he was there first. Jed continued talking though, increasingly about himself. They ordered more wine as the bar became increasingly deserted. She was enjoying the conversation, but she was ready to take the plunge. Jed, though, was not cooperating. She wasn't sure if he was shy or simply wanted to talk. She had noticed his wedding ring right away, but she had accepted the fact her infidelity may have victims other than her own husband.

Jed continued to drone, however, and she was getting nervous. She had purposely waited for the last night so there would be no chance of a second night with the same man. Now it seemed like the opportunity was fading. She began pressing, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but he was having none of it. She held her breath and placed her hand surreptitiously on his thigh.

He hardly seemed to take notice.

The bartender came around and let them know it was last call. Karen looked expectantly at Jed.

"I think I've reached my limit. Time to turn in. Long day ahead tomorrow," he mumbled while looking down.

Karen simply shook her head no.

Jed turned to her, pausing as if wanting to say something. She looked at him without much hope. He met her lowered expectations and bid her good evening.

He didn't even pick up her tab.

The bartender saw her disappointment, and being more wise to the ways of the world than Jed, he asked her what she had planned for the rest of the night. Karen's inner whore screamed for attention, but she had put bartenders off-limit in her other-life. No-nonsense Karen still held ultimate control. Their paths would too easily cross again. Reluctantly she said she was turning in for the night, paid her tab, and wondered if she would be able to bring herself to do this again. Her stomach tied in competing knots of disappointment in her failure and loathing for the woman she had chosen to become, she began the trek back to her hotel room high above the Atlanta street.

Note to readers: If you feel this story merits continuation let me know.