Authors Note: What impacted me most, after reading GeorgeAnderson's bestselling story "
February Sucks
" is the real-life conversation between George and his associates at a work conference. George recalled the Happy Hour discussion from many decades earlier and it is the basis for "February Sucks" and the many follow-on stories from other authors.
In order to fully understand this story's connection to "February Sucks," I have received GeorgeAnderson's permission to include "The Conversation" as a lead-in to my story.
"The Conversation" as remembered by GeorgeAnderson:
Many years ago, I was out of town at a conference. About 20 of us, half men and half women, almost all married, went out to a watering hole one evening to decompress. The local fauna were hitting pretty heavily on the women at our table. We guys were wincing at the crudity of the locals' attempts, while the women laughed and rejected them. One particularly bad approach drew the comment, "He's lucky I like this beer, otherwise he'd be wearing it."
"So what if it had been [famous football player: call him Jocko] saying that to you? Would he have scored?" another woman asked with a flirty little smirk in her voice.
"Hell, yes!" "Absolutely!" It was clearly unanimous.
"What if it meant, you know..."
"Especially if it meant that!" The women's laughter was genuine; the guys' was a little forced.
Understand, these women weren't dogs who couldn't get a date: they ranged from pretty to downright hot. They were in their late twenties and early thirties, and dressed for a night out.
"Um, what would you tell your husband?" one of the guys asked hesitantly.
"Um, why would I tell my husband?" The reply was instantaneous, and greeted with laughter and head-nodding from the women.
"What if your husband was here?" the guy persisted. We could all hear the anxiety in his voice.
One of the women leaned forward with her elbows on the table and looked him dead in the eye. I remembered her from lunch; she'd been showing off pictures of her husband and their perfectly adorable five-year-old girl. "I would tell him that he knows how much I love him, and he knows I'll always come back to him, but I'm not going to pass up this opportunity, and I'll see him sometime tomorrow." She spoke calmly and kindly but with determination. None of us could doubt that she meant exactly what she said.
Several guys' jaws dropped considerably; I know mine was one.
"No, you wouldn't," the guy next to me muttered. The woman looked at him pityingly.
"Yes, I would, and I think every woman here would do the same."
"You might leave with him tonight, but if I was your husband, you sure as hell wouldn't see me tomorrow." He was as serious as she was.
Another woman tried to fix things. "Listen, I love my husband, I wouldn't trade him for anything. Jocko doesn't mean anything to me and never will, and he probably wouldn't even remember my name the next morning. But spending a night with him, just one night out of our whole marriage, would be something I could remember for the rest of my life. An event, you know, with a capital E? It would have nothing to do with the way I feel about my husband. Afterward, I would go home to the man I love, and everything would be like it was before."
A tense silence fell on the table. "Well, that shows us married guys where we stand, doesn't it?" one guy muttered.
"Come on, guys, don't be that way. It's not that big a deal."
The party broke up pretty quickly after that, as people left by ones and twos to wander quietly back to the conference hotel. I have no idea whether the women at that table were typical. I meant to ask my wife about it when I got home, but didn't get up the nerve. I still haven't. I'm not sure I want to know the answer, anyway.
Thank you to GeorgeAnderson for letting me use his real-life recollection and run in a much different and very dark direction.
===============
An Event - with a Capital E
One big event leads to another.
Dawn's life changing event
June 2018
Dawn slid into the driver's seat of her Honda Accord. She ached from head to toe after a nearly three hour non-stop sexual workout that she had just experienced. Over the years she had heard the expression "my jaw hurt" after a long cock sucking session. She was surprised that she'd never experienced it before, as her husband Chris was very well endowed. She had spent long periods of time with his cock wedged between her puffy red lips. With a little effort, she was thrilled to brag to her girlfriends during girl-talk time that she could take his seven plus thick inches, balls deep.
But today, she hadn't spent the workday afternoon with her husband. He had flown out that morning for a three day two night business trip. She had shacked up in a smelly, by-the-hour motel room with Lori's (her work associates) older brother, Lyle. Lyle left her jaw and throat (along with the rest of her body) throbbing and well used.
Lyle was a thirty eight year old salesman who visited his sister and her family once a year. Apparently Lyle held "Favorite Uncle" status throughout his entire family and was known for his exciting adventures that he enthusiastically shared with his nieces and nephews. They looked forward to his annual visits.
Among Lori's female work associates, Lyle was known for other things. He certainly was tall, well built and good looking. His arrogant personality bothered many, but his ten inch monster thick cock along with his incredible stamina and proficiency made up for his character flaws.
Lyle's kink was fucking nice, sweet, mature married women and turning them into his sluts for a day. While visiting his siblings and their families around the country, Lyle encouraged them to fix him up with at least one married woman per visit. After the first couple of years, the legend of Lyle Harris had morphed into a sexual super hero tale. Many married co-workers of Lori spent twelve months wondering if they should risk being his date on the next visit.
It was the fifth year, since Lori joined their company and Lyle was coming to visit the following month. It had also been four years since Dawn started hearing about her associates incredibly erotic afternoon's spent with Lyle pumping in and out of one of their eager holes. Two had bragged about taking him up their ass.
With Chris scheduled to be on the road and with a few days to recuperate, Dawn decided to do something she'd never dreamed about...cheat.
Dawn had started to consider a fling with Lyle, after her close friend raved about her sexual adventure the previous year. Jo had tried to recount the number of orgasms she had, but couldn't commit to an exact number. All she knew is it was by far the best sexual experience of her life.
After her date, Jo had recommitted herself to her loving and faithful husband and their family. She swore that it was a "one-off" and would never be repeated and best of all; she would have this secret memory to think about forever. Nearly a year later, Jo's incredible experience had not affected her marriage or family. She boosted that the sex she shared with her husband was better than ever.
Dawn reasoned, if she was careful and if Chris was out of town, she'd like to experience what several of her friends had tried. What were the odds that someone as careful as she was would ever get caught?
After agreeing with Lori that she would have a play date with Lyle, she surreptitiously blocked the afternoon off in her calendar with the word "event". Lori giggled and her pussy lips got damp as she changed the designation to "Event" with a capital E. If Lyle was even half as good as his reputation, it would be an afternoon she'd always remember.
Later, Dawn would admit to herself, the sex wasn't half as good as she imagined. It was ten times better.
As their office came to life that Monday morning, Dawn received a text from someone not in her contact list. The text said, [I've been looking forward to our afternoon together. Lori has assured me that we'll have fun. Get a room at the Rainbow Motel on the Queen Street in Southington. Text me the room number. I'll be there at exactly noon.]
On one hand, Dawn was doubly put-off at the demanding nature of the text, along with the fact that Lyle expected her to pay for the room. On the other hand, her pussy was starting to send a river of juice into her panties. She smiled, as she thought to herself, 'I'm glad I saved the sexy thong to put on just before I leave.'
Dawn arrived at the motel, paid cash for a six hour stay and had to endure the smirk and stare of the smelly cigar chomping man who checked her in. This certainly wasn't the Marriott hotel that she was used to, when traveling with her husband Chris.
A half hour before Lyle's arrival, Dawn had changed into a sexy, short cotton summer dress, a white panty that was too small to be called a thong and heels...high, sexy, potentially ankle breaking heels. She paced slowly around the room. One minute she was worrying about her planned infidelity and the next, she was sliding a finger through the folds of her hot wet, ready to explode vagina. 'No,' she silently screamed to herself, "today it's a cunt."
Her apprehension was sky high when Lyle was five minutes late and she was furious ten minutes later. When her phone buzzed at 12:22 PM, Dawn read, [Confirmed room 24. I'm ten minutes out. Be 100% naked when I arrive or I'll leave.]
"Fuming" would be the best way to describe Dawn nearly twenty minutes later, when she heard a knock on the door. She was naked when she cracked it open. She'd seen pictures of Lyle, but didn't realize how large he was.
"Lyle?" She asked.
"Who the fuck else would it be? Open the damn door Dawn."