Confession 15

T ONE - BREATHLESS

Breathless I wait. I've already gotten my suitcase and I'm sitting on it as I wait. When I bend my head, my dark hair falls around my face and I can pant without notice. Breathless. I really don't think I've ever understood the word before Aaron. It's a heaviness of chest, giving you the illusion, I guess, of not being able to get a deep breath. But that doesn't explain it. Not at all. You have to be waiting for your lover to understand. But, do without him for a couple of weeks and believe you me, you'll have the hots, just like I do. You'll be breathless too.

He appears on the escalator and it is all I can do to sit still. I sit up and my hair falls into place. He sees me, and at the foot of the moving stairs he gets off and rushes toward me. I leave my suitcase where it is and run to meet him. He crushes me to him. It's hard to breath with him holding me so tight and after a minute I have to break away to catch my breath, but not from his hot mouth. There I cling. This is a man I can kiss all day and all night. I'd felt his hardness under his clothing when he'd pulled me to him, so I know he's been missing me too.

I go and sit on my suitcase again, watching him wait for his own case, crouching so the tent of his pants isn't so obvious to those around him. I feel like a schoolgirl again. It's always like this, this heightened feeling. This wanting. This unholy rapture. I can almost feel his hands on my hot flesh, just watching him. He is everything a woman could want but for one thing. He's married, to someone else, and so am I.

He turns to me in the cab. The driver had stowed our bags in the trunk and we are on the way to our hotel. His hands come up, then clinch. I close my eyes, knowing he wants to touch me. I can feel them running over my sensitive skin even though they are not there.

I still remember how it started. I am an attorney. I travel a lot, which I have always thought was good for my marriage. I've never been sure that I could take my husband's anger if I saw him all the time. Not that it's directed at me. You see, Rod is a perfectionist, and he's slightly paranoid. That means that anyone he is exposed to that is not perfect, he believes was put there by the powers that be to irritate him, and to laugh at him behind his back. Luckily his job, he's a consultant in the computer industry, is such that he is dependent on no one else. He has to travel in his job also.

The problem is, for sometime, I've been having the feeling that he is less dependent on everyone, including me. Not that we don't have a good life. We both make excellent incomes. We are young, energetic and healthy. We exercise regularly, and we make love more often than most people could imagine, even if I was the instigator most of the time. One thing about Rod, he can always get it up. At any rate, they say that sex does not a good marriage make, so I have been restless for some time.

When Aaron came to me in the dining room I was utterly taken aback, but he was so gracious, so funny, and he so obviously wanted me. Well, to make a long story as short as possible, he got me, that night.

I'd never cheated before, but Aaron is an absolute master at the art of foreplay. I was so hot, so wet, by the time he stuck that cock of his into my pussy I had lost the mental knowledge of cheating. I felt no guilt. I was into the moment. If you are so lucky, you've been lost in it too. You know what I mean. Just so you know, I still am. I cannot get enough of him. This is a man who knows how to use his assets, his hands, fingers, tongue, lips, nose, breath, and cock to titillate the most resistant morsel of flesh. I lie back on the seat and keep my eyes and watch him loom masterfully over me, loosening me up, getting me ready, and fucking me in everyway imaginable. Before I know what is happening, we're at the hotel. It was just getting dark.

He checks in, and so do I. It's necessary for us to pay for two rooms, in case anyone should ever check. We take the elevator up to our floors and kiss in the hall. He goes to his room, and I enter mine.

It was like every hotel. I used to like hotels, but they are just a home away from home to me now. It only takes minutes for me to unpack and stow away my clothing. Before I can sit though, there is a knock at the door.

"Who is it, please?"

"It's me, your duty mind blower, here!"

I jerk open the door and pull him into my arms, and then I loose one arm to tear at his shirt, buttons popping everywhere. We are both nude in minutes.

I lie back on the bed and let my lover do his thing. Tonight he begins with sucking my toes into his mouth. Damn, his mouth is hot. I'm afraid he'll melt my polish. He then works his way up my body, but doesn't get close to my begging cunt. He passes it by and moves up my stomach. He is setting me ablaze. The spots where his lips kiss my flesh are infused with electrical impulses, and they all go straight to my clit. I'm humping, and twisting when he takes my left nipple in his mouth. God can he suck. He's hanging on. Shit, I think I'm going to come before he quits sucking on me. Aaaayaaaaaa . . .I scream as it rushes through me. He pulls away from my breast and smiles down at me.

"Hello, Leanne."

"Well hello Aaron." Fuck, still breathless.

He moves down my body now, and goes straight for my pussy. It's leaking, I can feel the wet dribbles running over my ass cheeks, but then he licks them up. Aaron loves my taste, and I love for him to taste it. In seconds he has me bucking again. He uses his hands on my buttocks to hold on. He licks from my anus to my clit; running his tongue over one of the labia folds, then back down over the other labia. On his second stroke, he enters the labia and slathers my pussy with his saliva. God, I'm in heaven. I know I'm pushing my pussy up into his mouth, trying to get closer, but it isn't like I'm thinking about it, or even taking some action myself. It's like my body has a mind of it's own. Suddenly he takes my clit in his mouth and bites it lightly. A warmth suffuses me, running from my clit to my ass to my breasts. It's so hot that I feel myself burst out in a sweat, and then it hits me. An implosion that shakes me, leaves me wasted. I collapse back on the bed. His body covers mine and his wet face appears above me. I try to lick it, but he has to lower his face so that I can. I clean his face, and then I sleep.

I wake, it must be only minutes I was out, but Aaron is patiently waiting for me. I roll on my side to face him, and smile at him.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

"Sure. You divorce your wife, and I'll divorce my husband. Who's going to get the kids?"

That was the crux of course. Aaron and his wife have 3 children and they are all high school age with college ahead of them. I'd never met them, or seen pictures of them, or his wife for that matter. And Aaron is catholic. He'll never divorce them.

He rolls me over onto my back again and takes a nipple in his teeth. I feel his hand go to my pelvis. His tongue appears and begins to lick my nipple. I had come twice and I was not horny, but sucking on my nipple does it for me every time. I'm no longer humping, but I can feel myself dampen in expectation. He gets up on his knees and pulls my legs open without releasing the nipple, continuing to lick it. He enters me as I'm pulling up my knees to give him access. He strokes inside me very slowly at first, and it feels so good, then like the madman he is, he begins to stroke faster. I feel myself opening like the flower I see behind my closed eyes. He begins to plunge into me, then pull out until just his glans is just inside me and then plunge back into me again. He speeds up and damned if I don't feel that heat coming on again. There is a tingling where he is brushing my g-spot inside as he crushes his pelvis against my clit outside, as I begin to quiver. I feel as if I'm a vassal, a catholic vassal, and that vassal is opening for him, ready for his gift. The warmth spreads inside me. I open my eyes and watch him work. They say there is no weight loss to sex but I believe that there is for him. He's dripping sweat on my body as he pounds away. He's like a machine that cannot, will not stop and I begin to catch it, that illusive thing inside me that causes me to come yet again. As my man rears up, stills and pounds into me again, then again as he comes, I do too. I fly with the angels. It's not an orgasm that wracks my body. It's like a gift from outer space. I zone. I fly.

Next day, interviewing a client who looks something like my husband, the thought flies through my mind * He will never know! Never! * As an the interview continues, my mind once again says to itself, * what he doesn't know, won't hurt him *

PART TWO - DISCOVERY

I'm a computer guy, a consultant, and I've been married to Leanne for thirteen years. It's been a good time, I think, for both of us. At thirty-six years of age we are in the prime of life and we live it fully. We both belong to clubs and keep ourselves fit. Leanne is not only a fine looking woman, but she is an attorney and has been a partner in a major firm here in Seattle for the last ten years. We have a good life. She's a great lady and I love her big time. So, you can imagine my shock when I discover she is fucking someone else. The bitch. Am I not enough for her? Should I divorce her, kill her, or what? I'm going round in circles, I don't know what to do.

I found out through my work, by accident really. It wasn't as if she'd done something that would draw my attention to her fucking around. Nothing changed in our lives. She was always loving, considerate, and happy. I never noticed her avoiding my eyes when we talked. She didn't turn away when I wanted to make love. As was her habit, she sometimes instigated the sexual play herself. Matter of fact, now that I think of it, I look back at that time and feel maybe, if anything, she wanted sex more often from me.

The law firm where Leanne is a partner has some computer problems during the time she is out of town on a case. Since I installed the system, they call me to cure its ailments. I shortly discover the problem. It's been caused by a rampant virus that had took over their system, and had shut it down. It had started at Leanne's computer station, from an e-mail she'd received, and had spread through the entire network. I had to remove the virus from all twenty three computers. Though it wasn't very complicated, it was time consuming, and I was still working when the attorneys left. They gave me a key. I told them I'd have everything running by morning. With Leanne out of town, I had no problem putting in the time to do the job.

I finished about midnight. I went into my loving wife's office and sat in her chair, looking at the photograph of us on her desk. Smiles a-plenty I thought. One last thing to do. To find the offending e-mail, and erase it from her computer. I power up the computer. Everything looks fine. I bring up her e-mail software. Outlook express. Everything seemed normal. I couldn't find the offending missive, so I decided to look further. Outlook express is a simple program that operates efficiently, especially on a net. In the program, you can set up more accounts than one, several actually. I tapped file, and then switch identities. There were two identities listed. There was the main identity, and a personal identity. It was like something hit me in the gut then, but I shrugged it off, becoming the investigator again. I moused the personal identity and a box came up for me to type in the password. Well, this is a bit of a challenge, but usually for someone with my training. I begin with her birthday, our marriage anniversary date, my birthday, our address. The date of our last vacation. The date of her last period. When none of this works I spat out "Uh huh, baby doll." I minimized outlook express and pull up the computer management software. I looked up all her passwords. It was there. A set of numbers that made no sense to me, eight digets, I was surprised that she could remember them. I call back outlook express and insert this mysterious number in the password box, and I was in. And I wish I hadn't done it.

It seems she'd met this Arnie character two years ago, same eight digits, with the four digits for the year. I don't know why, but that was the hardest thing to take. No wonder she could remember it. The rest of it was downhill from there. They corresponded back and forth, frequently, and it was obviously passionate. She spoke of her joy in his arms. How she loved having him loom over her as he fucked her down into the mattress. How she could fuck him all night. He spoke of the smell of her, taste of her, glow of her after sex. All the plans for their meetings were there. Including this week while she is out of town on a case. When they could meet? How I would never suspect. How his wife would never suspect. Always on business trips. I sat there staring at the words, wishing they made sense to me. I'm sitting here reading, heartbroken, angry, furious, and I'm still in love.

Eventually I print all the e-mails and close down her computer. I just want to study the e-mails, see if I can learn more. Hurt myself more is more like it. As I leave, the tears are dropping onto my jacket. I wipe them away. "Dammit!" They were probably fucking right now.

I drive to our house == our house, eh? Three days before she comes home. I walk into our bedroom. I stand there, but the walls, the furniture, and especially the bedcovers echo luscious sounds and past laughter to me. It is hard for me to breath here. I walk out. I walk into the guest room and fall on the bed, sleeping, wetting the pillow case.