Change 8

My name is Stacey (for the purpose of this story) and I am 42. I had to write this story because I couldn't tell anyone about it, and it was driving me mad.

For starters, let me describe a bit of my life so you can be in context. I met Mark, my husband (Mark, for the purpose of this story), at college and we dated a few times. By that time I didn't saw him as the man of my life, my dream to marry and have children. But we were young, and we were stupid. I had plans, but they fell. As I was saying before, we were young and stupid, and so, we got pregnant, even before finishing college.

That was hard on us, but we learned to live with it. We dropped college and found jobs, grew a family and as a family. Mary (only for the purpose of this story) grew up and is now studying at University, and that was when it hit us harder.

Since Mary was born, we have only lived for this family. We worked in order to bring home food and to pay up mortgage, we spent our free time together sawing our child grow up and trying to give her the best in life.

But since she left, everything has changed. We fight more and more, we sit for hours watching TV without talking to each other. Our life has reached a standstill. We didn't know what to do.

I guess our fights were exactly as are the fights for the most couples. We yelled about money, vacations, sex and love. Many times Mark accused me of not want to have sex with him anymore, and I accused him of not paying attention to me, not love me anymore. Everything was true and everything didn't deal with the real problem. Two people that live only for each other and within themselves are bonded to come one day absolutely empty.

So, one of this fights got messy. Mark yelled at me one more time about me not giving him enough sex and I yelled at him that he might get more if he just be a little more romantic, shown a little more attention. But this time he went further, he said with one of the most serious voices that he would look for it elsewhere and he was going to left me. And he left.

It was a Sunday, and I went to bed waiting for him to return. I didn't cry, because I was not sure if I loved him by that time. But I didn't slept well either. I was thinking about my life, thinking that everything got to change.

Next day I called sick. I slept a bit in the morning and left for the train station. I got a ticket for another town and got on the train. The town was not important, what was important was that I needed to think and I wanted to do it in a park, what I couldn't do here because I had called sick and too many people know me.

This was a very nice park, one of my favorites, with a nice snack-bar where you can just sit there, enjoy the morning sun and read. I had brought a book, because I knew I would be there for a while, and because I like to read when I'm thinking what to do with my life.

I ordered a tea and just sit there reading. After about two hours this guy seats at my table just looking at me, saying nothing. I ask if he wanted something and he said he thought I was very pretty and would like to just sit there looking at me.

There were only a couple of tables with people, so there was plenty of space free for him to sit. I asked him to leave me alone, I wanted to be there all by my self, just reading. But he didn't left. He asked me if he could have a coffee with me. I told him he could have the coffee there if he promised he would leave after.

He promised, but he didn't leave. We stood there talking about nothing. It was feeling good all the attention, but I was just thinking that the guy was a jerk. I still do. But he kept staying and we kept talking. After about two hours, and he have not mentioned yet, I had decided that if he asked, I would have sex with him.

This is where it gets tricky. You might think that I was turned on by him, I wasn't. You might think that he said something that made me give away, but he didn't. You might think that I was feeling lonely and got into the arms of the first jerk to happened to be there, but it was like that. After he talked for a while, I wasn't even listening anymore. I was a jerk and I realized that quickly. But as he stood there talking, I stood there not listening and thinking. I realized what was wrong with my life. I realized what I wanted. I wanted change. Of course I didn't thought that this would be the guy I would be running with from my husband. He was not the guy for anything really. But he could easily be the guy to have sex with. He wasn't pretty, he wasn't attractive, he was a jerk. But would have to do. Sex would be the brake in my life I needed by then. After I did it, nothing would be the same again. So, I kept waiting for him to ask. And he asked.

Some more talking and he asked me if I wanted to go to a more quiet place. I told him this place was quiet enough. Since almost no one could be found there at that hour. But I understand what he wanted and I looked him deep into the eyes and told him that if he wanted to have sex, he could take me into a motel or to his house that he had convinced me. I think I scared the ship out of him, because the guy stood speechless looking at me, his mouth half open and his face red.

After he recomposed he proposed the bathroom. I didn't like it, but I asked why the bathroom. He said it was close and quick, and he couldn't wait for me to change my mind. That did the trick. I had decided that something had to happen, and if it had to be in a public bathroom, it would be in a public bathroom.

This little snack-bar was surrounded by bushes that created a cozy environment. At one side there was an opening that conduced to a small building in the back where the bathrooms were.

In the way I asked him if he was thinking about the girls or boys bathroom. By his expression I saw that he didn't thought about it. But his answer showed some confidence, a thing that he had not shown yet. He said if the two here free, I could choose. But when we got there, only the girls room was free, so the girls room it is. I opened the door and the first thing I felt was the smell. There was a deep and strong smell of urine and there was some garbage at the floor. I could see the trashcan full and some used tampons beside it.

"I'm not laying on the floor" I said. He said he was not expecting that. He told me to sit on the toilet and show him what I could do with my beautiful mouth. I'm not a puritan and have gave head sometimes to my husband, but was caught by surprise. I didn't know him, I didn't know about his hygiene. But I did it. I sat and looked at the bulge he had. I was expecting he would unbutton himself, but it looked like he was expecting me to do all the job. I opened his trousers and pulled his cock trough the opening of his boxers. It was completely erect and at first impressions it was most like my husbands. The head was a little reddish instead of purple like my husbands. But all in all, it was equal. I put it in my mouth and started bobbing up and down, slowly. I'm not an expert, so I was not expecting anything at the moment. I was just enjoying the moment. I felt his and rest on my head and he started to move, slowly fucking my mouth. After a while he started going deep and I gagged. We apologized at the same time, he saying he had got carried away. I almost got happy for the gag, because I was afraid he would come in my mouth, thing I have never did.

He raised me and kissed me, and I asked if he had any condoms. Fortunately he had. It's easy now to say I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't a condom, but I can't be completely sure. I was a bit aroused, yes. But it wasn't that. I was seeing that opportunity as an unique one, and one that I didn't want to miss. Although I would demand a condom I don't know if he wouldn't be able to convince otherwise.

He kissed my neck and turned me around. I bent over and found support in the toilet and wall. He caressed my breasts and played a little with my nipples trough my bra. Then he pulled my panties down and I was able to take them off without letting them touch the floor. He raised my skirt and point his erect cock at my, now wet, pussy. The entrance was slow and I was able to adjust without any pain. And so, it began. He started moving in and out at a slow speed at first, and getting faster with each trust. I could feel he hadn't pull down his boxers. I could feel the material on my exposed ass.

Coming from nowhere we slapped my ass. I didn't say anything, but I remember thinking what a jerk he was. As I didn't react to the first one, he slapped me again, this time harder. I can't truthfully say I didn't like it a bit. But first things first, he should have asked if I wanted it, if I liked it. I would most certainly say no, but he shouldn't have done it without asking. I turned my head over my shoulder and said no, and he understood. I even said sorry, but he didn't stop moving, what was good.

His trust were becoming harder and faster and I was feeling more and more pleasure. I could feel he was about to come and I knew I was much further away from my orgasm, so I just enjoyed, knowing that it would be an incomplete job, but also a good one, so I wasn't complaining. He came with a grunt and a deep hard trust that made let out a small moan, but I think he didn't heard. Or at least he didn't react to it. Not that he could do anything now.

I dressed the best I could and saw him throw away the condom to the pile of garbage. He dressed up too, and we left the bathroom. After we passed the opening in the bushes, each followed a different way, knowing that there was nothing to say.

I went home. I had left my car parked at the station and I ridded strait home and into the garage. I normally don't use the garage, but my clothes and my hair were a mess and I didn't need someone to saw this way in the neighborhood. I took a shower and poured myself a glass of scotch and sat on the sofa trying to figure out what to do next.

I fell asleep and wake up only to the sound of Mark coming in already at afternoon. He was in tears, asking me to forgive him and swearing he had done nothing with other women.

He told me he went my job looking for me and was told I called in sick. After that he drove by the house several times looking for my car parked outside. Not seeing the car he was afraid I had left him for good. He told he didn't even remember to look for the car in the garage. He was so afraid to come to an empty home that he kept driving around, until he accepted the fact that I had left and decided to come home. When he found me he was so happy tears started pouring through his eyes and he promised he would never yell at me again and he pay me the attention I deserved.

Of course I didn't tell him about my small adventure in the park. Although I felt sorry for it, and I needed the change, I couldn't jeopardize my marriage over it. And I knew better, of course everything would be the same again, promises or no promises.