It all started out innocently enough. I can't believe I let it happen. I'm not that kind of woman. I would never... Well, I did, and truth is, I enjoyed it!
I'm 32, a devoted wife and mother of three beautiful girls, ages 5, 9, and 11. My husband and I have been married 12 years and attend church regularly. I teach a Sunday school class, he is a deacon. We have a storybook marriage, really we do. We always talk out any problems that come up, we always agree on major purchases, we love and respect each other. I don't think I look like a woman who's had three children, because I try very hard to take care of myself. I exercise every day, I eat right, and I think it's working. I'm 5 feet, six and weigh about 115. Curves in all the right places, not too many extras. When my husband and I go out, and I'm dressed up with makeup on, I still get second looks from men who see me. I have shoulder length brown hair, a pretty face, nice legs, and slightly larger than average breasts. I don't think I'd ever be thought of as a 'knockout' but I do ok, considering.
A few months ago, I took a job in a local factory as a temp, running a machine. All that was available was on the evening shift, from 3 to 11, so that really put a crimp on our family time, since my husband works in the insurance business from 9 to 5. We arranged for day care after school and then my husband spent the evenings taking care of the girls. Sometimes, though, he would have to go on a business trip and then his mother would keep them until the next morning - so they could sleep all night and not have to wake up to go home when I got off work. She lived near their school so it was no problem for her to get them to school in the morning.
I would never admit it, but I was actually enjoying my time 'away' from my family. I found that I looked forward to going to work every afternoon, because it freed me from the constant demands that were pulling me this way and that - the girls needed me to do things for them, my husband always had something he needed me to do. I was getting burned out, and this job provided much needed relief. Let him take care of them for a while, let him see how hard I work every day just to keep our family fed and school work done, clothes washed, the whole thing. Let him take care of all that, and he might appreciate me more.
There was one man at work who I became friends with. He was around 45, John was his name. He was in great shape for a man his age. I wasn't really looking, but I did notice that he seemed solid and muscular. His job was to keep all the machines running, and he would have to come around to work on mine sometimes. It started out that we would talk when he had to come to my machine - then he started coming around at break times and then lunch. We got into a routine where we would spend all our breaks and lunchtime together. We enjoyed each other's company and found that we had a lot in common. You know how, with some people, you just don't ever 'feel' that you can trust them, and you talk about trivial, meaningless things? Not so with John. I found myself completely comfortable talking with him about everything. I felt no need to be 'on guard' or careful about what I said. With John, we could talk about deeper meanings, thoughts, ideas, and dreams. He was non-judgemental and let me talk when he saw I needed to. He was a good listener, and offered only insights, never criticism. I looked forward to my talks with John. He paid attention to what I said, and he picked up on the unspoken thoughts.
I learned that his wife had died years earlier, and he lived alone, over an hours drive from the factory. I found myself confiding in him my reasons for working second shift, and we talked about a variety of 'personal' subjects. I was comfortable with him, moreso than I can remember being with any man. (actually, even my husband, but I'd never admit it). Yes, we did engage in some light flirting, some inuendo's, some teasing, but only because we were so comfortable with each other - we both knew it was only in fun and nothing would ever come of it. I actually found myself attracted to John - in a physical way - but of course, I'm a happily married woman...
Well, one day it started snowing. My husband was out of town overnight on business, and the girls were scheduled to stay at their grandmothers that evening. It snowed all afternoon and evening. Heavy snow. By 10pm, the radio was saying all highways in the area were closed. John and I talked at break time, and he said it looked like he'd be spending the night in his truck, since he had called around and all the motels were filled. He said he was prepared, having an overnight bag and several blankets in his truck.
I couldn't bear the thought of him trying to sleep in his truck in the middle of a blizzard like that, so I asked if he'd come to my house and sleep on our couch. He didn't want to impose and was very reluctant, but I insisted, and finally he agreed to stay. We decided to both go in my Navigator since it had four wheel drive and his truck didn't.
When we left the factory, we stopped by his truck so he could get his overnight bag, and I told him he wouldn't need to bring any blankets. I had an awful time getting home, since there was over two feet of snow on the streets then.
We finally made it, and I pulled into my garage and closed the door before we got out of the Navigator. Actually, I was concerned about the neighbors seeing a man who was not my husband coming home with me. Even though we're just friends, and there was nothing untoward going on, it's better for them not to know.
John thanked me again before we even went into the house, saying "I really appreciate this, you know. I hope your husband doesn't mind you dragging a man home!" I assured him that it was not going to be a problem. I had neglected to mention that my husband wouldn't be home, because I knew John would probably have refused to stay. I had also neglected to mention that the girls wouldn't be home, either. One problem though. John noticed the other stall empty, and asked where my husband's car was as we were going through the door into the house. I didn't answer until we were both inside and I closed the door behind us.
"Oh, I forget to tell you, he's out of town tonight. He'll be back tomorrow night. And I might as well tell you, the girls aren't home either. I knew that you would refuse to come if you knew we'd be here alone, sO I just failed to mention it. We're both grownups, and we know nothing's going to happen, so it's not a problem, is it?" I said, teasing him with a mischievous grin.
John just shook his head, saying, "YOu are something else, lady. Always thinking about others. YOu had to make sure I had a warm dry place to sleep tonight, and you KNEW I wouldn't even consider coming here if I had known. Thanks. And I'll be sure to be on my best behavior! Wouldn't wanna get myself thrown out in the snow in the middle of the night!"
I showed him the couch and led him to the guest bathroom so he could get changed. I went upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. When I came back down wearing warm pj's and slippers, John was on the couch watching tv, wearing flannel pj's. I offered him something to drink, saying that I usually have a glass of milk and a light snack after work, while I get wound down. John said that whatever I had sounded good to him too. I brought in two glasses of milk and some cheese for us to snack on, and sat at the other end of the couch while we watched the news. The weather showed the snowstorm was going to continue through the night, but they were forecasting for it to clear up by daylight.
When we finished our snacks, I went to the closet and made sure he had enough pillows and blankets to be comfortable. After taking our empty glasses and plate to the kitchen, I wished John sweet dreams and headed upstairs. He just said, "Thanks," as he got settled in on the couch. Halfway up the stairs, I yelled down, "breakfast is at 8 sharp!" and he acknowledged with "oh, ok!"
I went on to bed, leaving my door open as always. Lately, we seldom closed the door. Not much ever happened that we'd need to close it. I couldn't sleep. I was still awake a half hour later, and I remembered that I hadn't taken my daily birth control pill that I usually take every night before bed. Not wanting to wake up John, I crept slowly down the steps, on the way to the kitchen where all the pills and medications were in the cabinet above the sink.
Halfway down the steps I glanced over toward the couch. What I saw changed my life forever.
John was laying on his back with his eyes closed, stroking his penis! The blankets were thrown down around his feet and he actually had his penis out. It pointed straight up and looked huge! I had only seen my husband's before, but this one - it had to be at least six or seven inches long!! I was in shock. Totally mesmerized by the sheer enormous size of it. I knew it was wrong, and I should turn away, but I couldn't. I stood there riveted to the spot, mouth open, gaping in awe at John's huge penis. I remember the word 'gigantic' going through my mind, along with perverted thoughts of touching it myself. That moment transformed me.
Then suddenly I found myself actually wondering what it would be like to touch it. No one ever has to know, I thought. It had been so very long since my husband had been able to satisfy me, or even willing to try. I felt the wetness begin between my legs. The desire. The craving. From that moment it was as if I were in a trance. It was as if I was watching myself from above, slowly moving one step at a time. closer and closer to John. Silently, stealthily creeping closer, eyes locked on his c... uh, his penis. I watched myself reach the bottom step and start across the carpet to the couch. I silently crept toward him and quietly sat on the coffee table, eyes never moving from that monstrous c... uh, I mean penis. His eyes were still closed and his strokes were speeding up a bit. I swear I saw a smile cross his face. I had to touch it. I simply had to. I told myself I only wanted to help this poor lonely man who had been such a good friend to me, but in reality I wanted much more. I wanted his p...., no, I wanted his cock. I found a part of me emerging that had lain dormant for years - the sensual, wild, sexy part of me that only comes out in the middle of orgasm. The slut that just wants to fuck and be fucked. Nothing else matters but cumming.
