*********
I'm taking a little break from writing While They Slept, I just think I need to let it gestate for a while. Also, if I keep writing at this current rate, I will probably burn out. Those who like it, don't worry, I will get back to it. Those who don't like it, enjoy the respite.
Also note that this story is filed under Loving Wives. Not sure why Literotica doesn't have a general Adultery/Cheating section, but it is what it is, and Loving Wives seemed closest to the spirit of the story.
DISCLAIMER:
This is TECHNICALLY a lighter story than While They Slept, but it still deals with the same themes of wanton adultery and betrayal.
If any of this is off-putting for you, probably best to steer clear.
Note: This story has small autobiographical elements sprinkled throughout. Call it 20% true.
*****
I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE GETTING MARRIED IN LESS THAN 12 HOURS!!
I KNOW, SWEETIE.ISN'T IT EXCITING??
SORRY TO TEXT SO LATE. I HOPE I DIDN'T WAKE YOU.
NO, I WAS AWAKE. I WAS THINKING ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH YOU.
THAT'S SO HOT, HONEY.
*****
TWO WEEKS UNTIL THE WEDDING
This is a story from almost a decade ago. My name is Andrew, I'm 37 years old, and to say I was having second thoughts about my impending nuptials would be an understatement. My fiancΓ©e, Janine, was a sweet woman. We had been together so long that marriage had just become the inevitable next step, like the fortune cookie you eat at the end of a Chinese meal even if you don't care for fortune cookies. It's just something you do. The wedding was not something I wanted. It was just something to do. And in life when I find myself in a bad situation, I make bad choices.
I could have postponed or canceled the wedding. I could have talked to my future bride about our sexual incompatibility (I was a freak and she was... well... ordinary, and not very libidinous.) I could have done any number of mature and responsible things.
So I hit Craigslist personals. Remember those? I didn't know what I was looking for, just so long as I could keep it a secret. I convinced myself a chat buddy would be sufficient to sow my oats before the wedding, so I sculpted as nonthreatening an ad as I could. Too many creeps out there, and I'm a bastard, not a creep.
M, 38, LOOKING FOR A FLIRTY CHAT BUDDY.
I kept the ad light and breezy, threw in a few jokes to show that I wasn't taking myself or the situation too seriously. I posted it and went about my day.
In the first couple hours I got a few nibbles. One was a monosyllabic woman named Stacy who didn't seem interested in a conversation. I wondered why the hell did she bother to respond? The second gave off huge catfish vibes, so I shut down the conversation quickly and politely (hey, manners cost nothing).
It was early that evening that Carly sent me a message. I was at the kitchen table with Janine when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. At the earliest opportunity I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I opened the email. It was short 'n sweet.
HEY, HAS SOMEONE BOOKED THE POSITION OF FLIRTY CHATTER? IF NOT, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND MYSELF.
-CARLY
I smiled. I quickly out-short-n-sweeted her with my response.
NOT YET. QUALIFICATIONS?
There was a 30 second pause before I received an email back.
THOROUGH KNOWLEDGE OF MANY ENGLISH WORDS. CAN FORM SENTENCES. CAN ALSO FORM SENTENCE FRAGMENTS.
I smiled again. I liked this girl immediately.
HOW ARE YOU WITH RUN-ONS?
I'M PRETTY GOOD I DO THEM SOMETIMES THEY'RE NOT MY FAVOURITE THO.
THREE IN ONE SENTENCE?? YOU SEEM OVERQUALIFIED. FINE, YOU'RE HIRED, BUT WITH CONDITIONS. FIRST, THIS IS NOT A PAID GIG. UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE PAID ON A FLIRT-BY-FLIRT BASIS. SECOND, WE MOVE TO THIS TO WHATS APP, OTHERWISE, WE'RE JUST OLD PEOPLE EMAILING.
WELL, I AM 46, BUT OK, I GUESS I CAN TRY THIS, WHATS THIS APP?
I was grinning ear-to-ear by this point, so we exchanged info and transferred the conversation.
She messaged right away.
OK, I'M HERE IN THE CHAT AND READY FOR THE FLIRTY CHAT, BUDDY. NOW WHAT?
I knew the first order of business was to eliminate the possibility of catfishing.
WELL, FIRST CAN WE GET THE UNPLEASANT BUSINESS OF VERIFICATION OUT OF THE WAY? JUST TO PROVE YOU'RE NOT A DUDE. WITH ALL LOVE AND RESPECT TO DUDES WHO LOVE DUDES, IT'S JUST THAT THIS DUDE DOESN'T LOVE DUDES THAT WAY.
I WILL VERIFY IF YOU PROMISE TO STOP SAYING DUDE. CHOOSE A WORD.
POTATO.
GOOD WORD. STRONG CHOICE. WHEN A MAN CHOOSES POTATO YOU KNOW HE MEANS BUSINESS. HANG ON.
I sat there in the bathroom waiting.
"Andrew?" Janine called out from the kitchen table. "Is something wrong?"
"No, just need a minute, thanks."
Another message popped up. It was a woman, forty-something as she said, long brown hair in a braid, large breasts, hips (actually everything, just a big sexy woman). She was holding a piece of paper blocking half her face, and on it she had drawn a half-decent picture of a smiling potato wearing a bra and panties.
I MEAN, YOU COULD HAVE PULLED THAT PICTURE FROM ANYWHERE ON THE INTERNET, REALLY. BUT I SUPPOSED THAT WILL DO. CHOOSE A COMMON BATHROOM ITEM.
There was a long pause.
SEXY.
ALL RIGHT, I'LL PLAY ALONG WITH THE SEXIEST BATHROOM ITEM OF THEM ALL: PLUNGER.
I chuckled and grabbed the plunger, holding it up so it also blocked half my face. I sent the pic.
OH, YOU'RE SO HANDSOME! OH WAIT, THAT'S THE PLUNGER HALF. OH WELL, THE PERSON IS CUTE TOO.
STOP IT, I'M BLUSHING. I'M AFRAID I HAVE TO GO EAT DINNER NOW.
YOU HAVE TO? AREN'T YOU AN ADULT?
I knew this was a make-or-break moment.
WELL, I LIVE WITH MY PARTNER.
There was an excruciatingly long pause.
I SEE. WELL, YOU DON'T WANT TO GET IN TROUBLE THEN. CAN I ASSUME THAT THIS PARTNER DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS CONVERSATION? OR DO YOU CHAT ALL THE TIME IN BATHROOMS?
NO, SHE DOESN'T.
My breath caught when I read her response.
HA, OK. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT'S KINDA HOT. HAVE A GOOD DINNER.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
I'LL MESSAGE LATER.
YOU BETTER.
I set the notifications to silent, and went back to the table.
"Everything OK?" asked Janine. She was so trusting.
"Everything's fine." I said, smiling.
"If it was nasty, you better have used a plunger."
"I did."
*****
We messaged all that night. And all the next day. And the day after that. Every moment I could get away from Janine I sent Carly a message, and it was agony waiting for her replies.
Over the first couple of days we laid out our ground rules:
No voice calls.
No meeting.
Keep it secret.
Besides that, nothing was off the table. We talked and learned about each other and flirted shamelessly. I had a stomach full of butterflies, was in bliss when messaging, and going crazy when not. It was, in most respects, a lot like the beginning of a real relationship, except that I already had a real relationship, and it was about to become permanent.
*****
TEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING
I awoke in a good mood. Janine had an early meeting, and I work from home, so I knew I could spend most of the day chatting with Carly. I lay in bed with my phone in one hand and casually fired off my first message of the day.
GOOD MORNING, CARLY
I had a marvelous case of morning wood, and I absently stroked it while looking at my phone.
JANINE MUST HAVE LEFT FOR WORK EARLY. YOU USUALLY DON'T TEXT BEFORE 9 AM.
YEAH, SHE HAD A MEETING OR SOMETHING. JUST ME HERE NOW. ALONE. ON MY BED. GUESS HOW MUCH I'M WEARING.
UM... EVERYTHING YOU OWN?
NOT QUITE.
IF THE ANSWER ISN'T NOTHING, I'LL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED.
I'M WEARING NOTHING, AND MY HAND IS SOMEWHERE IT SHOULDN'T BE.
There was a long pause. I spat in my palm and continued sliding my hand up and down on my dick while I waited for a response.
PIC OR YOU'RE LYING.
With my left hand, I awkwardly snapped off a shot of my hand on my cock. I was reasonably proud of my size, having been informed in the past it was girthier than average.
The pic was shaky and blurry, so I took another with my hands swapped. It was clear and focused, and my dick looked good. Well, as far as dicks go.
I pressed send, and held my breath.
FUCK.
DAMN IT, FLIRT BUDDY, YOUR DICK LOOKS REALLY REALLY FIIIIINE. AND YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED IN TEN DAYS?
YES.
TELL ME SHE APPRECIATES IT. TELL ME SHE FUCKS IT DAILY.
MORE LIKE MONTHLY.
THAT'S A CRIME. A CRIME AGAINST A GREAT COCK. HANG ON A SEC.
A photo popped up in the chat and I gasped. It was a picture of her pussy: a well-groomed pussy, trimmed but not shaved. One finger hovered over her wet opening, and a string of her juices clung between her finger and her inner lips.
YOU SEE THIS CUNT, ANDREW?
GOD YES.
THIS CUNT WILL NOT SETTLE FOR ANYTHING LESS THAN A COCK THAT WORSHIPS IT. AND NEITHER SHOULD YOUR COCK.
FUCK, I AGREE.
THESE TWO SHOULD MEET.
At the sight of those words, my hand went into overdrive, stroking furiously. I could feel the cum bubbling up from inside my balls, and I knew I wouldn't last long.
FUCK, CARLY, I'M GOING TO CUM.
GOOD. CUM. THINK OF ME. OR NOT. THINK OF ANYONE EXCEPT THAT FUCKING BARREN FIANCEE OF YOURS. THAT DICK DESERVES BETTER. CUM, ANDREW.
SO FUCKING GOOD...
I'VE CHANGED MY MIND. THINK OF ME ANDREW. THINK OF ME AND NOT JANINE. THINK OF THIS PUSSY. THINK OF THE DAY WHEN YOUR COCK AND THIS PUSSY FINALLY MEET, AND HOW FUCKING AMAZING THAT IS GOING TO FEEL.