Ellen's family was delightful, her father especially sharing Ellen's Irish charm with the same twinkle in his eye that first attracted me to her. We had flown back East for a reunion of sorts at the Catholic school she attended as a young girl. She had managed to find a skirt which more or less matched the uniform she wore as a student -- which of course had the sexually suggestive effect that a Catholic schoolgirl outfit has when worn by a full grown woman. None of this was lost on my adventurous girlfriend and while several alums attempted the same look at the gathering, none did justice to the outfit as Ellen did. Her breasts nicely filled the white uniform blouse and the skirt, while not inappropriately short, was short enough to attract the attention of every man there. But of course that was rather the point. To know Ellen is to love her, or at least to lust for her.
We left the gathering and wandered the halls for a bit. In the cloakroom of her third grade classroom, I pulled her to me and we shared a passionate kiss. My hand caressed her amazing, toned ass for a few moments before she looked at me in bemused shock.
"How dare you! You're such a bad boy! Nice Catholic schoolgirls don't allow boys to touch their booty. Stop it, this instant!" Ellen was giggling as she spoke. As always, there was the faintest touch of innocence in her otherwise brazen manner. And, as always, I found the combination irresistible.
"Don't you know I'm not a nice Catholic schoolboy?" I replied. "And you, my fine lass, are a schoolgirl gone bad."
Ellen giggled again. "Ooooh, don't tell anyone. They'd be so ashamed of me!" She was right. They would be. I sometimes wondered if her family and friends really knew her at all. Her façade of respectability and innocence had been so carefully crafted and maintained over the years that I wondered if anyone really knew what she was about. I did. Or I flattered myself that I thought that I did.
Ellen had been separated from her rather docile, traditional husband for about six months when we met. I knew him slightly and he seemed a very decent chap, if a bit buttoned down. Lee was a more than acceptable choice for Ellen -- the eldest son of a large Irish Catholic family. He had made a nice home for her and they had a son within a year after their marriage. Ellen was a perfect choice for him -- pretty, sweet, Catholic, and virginal. Of course on the last point Lee was quite delusional. Ellen had had a string of one night stands ever since high school, through college, and continuing through her two years on her own before they married. If you believe her, and I did, these trysts were not all that frequent but they told volumes about who she was as a sexual being. Ellen had dated several men but had not yielded to any of them. She could say truthfully to them and to her friends and family that she was not going to have sex with her boyfriends until and if she married one of them.
And she didn't. But every so often she would simply break out of the 'barn' and find a willing male, of which there was never any shortage, and enjoy the pleasures of a clandestine one night stand. I do believe that she honestly felt some measure of guilt for giving in to her desires but she was scrupulous about anonymity and refused to 'date' any of her lovers. There was never a second meeting apparently. And never, ever did she bring them to her place. She had roommates and roommates talk.
And this pattern continued off and on throughout her marriage. Naturally Lee found out about one of her indiscretions and after a tearful, if partial confession, and some counseling, they went on about their lives. I suppose in Ellen's mind she had not really cheated, as in no way were her escapades anything in the way of an affair. They were one-off couplings and she rationalized them as such. It was her nature and though these episodes were not that frequent during her marriage, they were part of a pattern of deceit that she could not, or would not control.
Lee could not handle the second, or was it the third, of her indiscretions that he found out about. He filed for divorce and though Ellen pleaded with him not to go through with it, she acquiesced when it became clear that he would not divulge the real reason for ending the marriage. Her family was of course distraught. Divorce was all but unthinkable in their culture but in time they accepted the inevitable and were supportive.
I knew none of her secret life when we started dating. I couldn't see much past my own dick and enjoyed Ellen's company, in and out of bed for the first few months. Physically she was a marvel -- toned, athletic, with natural full breasts and an ass to die for. She did not like to be alone and was demanding of my time and attention. This was generally fine by me but I found her questioning of my whereabouts on those evenings when we weren't together to be annoying. While I was happily single I have never had a problem with being monogamous when paired with a woman I truly cared about. And I adored Ellen. What was not to like? She was smoking hot, smart, and I got along famously with her son and in time with her extended family.
It was a three-day business trip to New York that finally brought her secret life into the open. I dutifully phoned her several times during the day and always in the evening. Wednesdays, her son was with Lee. I didn't think much of it when I phoned that evening and she didn't answer or return my call until the next morning. When I mentioned casually that I missed talking with her the previous night she remarked that she had gone out to dinner with a girlfriend and was sorry to have missed my call. It wasn't until a few days later that a business associate who knew Ellen remarked that he had seen her at a wine bar that evening -- chatting up some guy. I thought at first that perhaps she was simply waiting at the bar for her girlfriend and some guy had struck up a conversation with her. It wasn't like her to lie to me. Now I have always had a rather pronounced delight in sharing my women with other men. It's my nature and I know it but frankly Ellen was not at all the type to indulge me in my particular kink. I almost brushed off the episode but in the end decided to confront her with what I had learned.
Ellen simply stared back at me with open eyes -- rather a 'deer in the headlights' look of total surprise when I asked her about my friend having seen her at the wine bar with another man. She said nothing at all for what seemed to me to be an eternity -- she simply looked at me, not for a second averting her eyes. Then she looked away and turned her back to me.
"You need to go," she said clearly as she slowly walked away from me.
I thought that perhaps I had offended her and that the episode in the bar was completely innocent. I almost offered an apology but my gut told me her reaction was not one of anger but rather shame -- and fear.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ellen. And you're not either. We're going to talk this out."
She sat down on chair in her living room, her back still to me. "Just go, please," she said in an unsteady voice. I kneeled in front of her and tried to look her in the eye, but she would not meet my gaze. It was indeed shame that I was seeing. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to comfort and bond with her.
"I love you," I said. And I meant it. And my cock was already stiffening at the thought that she had taken another man to her bed while I was gone. I was desperate to know the truth. I knew -- I mean, I was certain that if she came clean with me about what she had in fact done, that we would enter a whole new level of intimacy in our relationship. We were at the tipping point and I knew it.
She slowly raised her eyes to meet mine and they were moist with tears. "Oh, I'm so ashamed of myself. I love you too and I am so ashamed of myself!" She began to sob and I held her closely, kissing her gently as I comforted her. Ellen's body trembled as she allowed herself to release her emotions. I was smitten -- and rock hard thinking of what she had done. Was it possible that I had so completely missed the mark thinking of her as a rather standard, if beautiful middle-aged woman? Was she in fact a slut?
I didn't pressure her to talk. I simply held her and she melted in my arms.
"I feel so bad about what I did the other night." She looked straight at me and my look was adoring and not at all upset. Obviously relieved, she continued. "I didn't meet my girlfriend. I went to that wine bar and met a man." She paused and looked again at me.
"It's okay, baby." I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "Really, it's okay."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"He took me back to his place and we had sex. That's all." She began to cry softly. "Oh god, I am so ashamed of myself."
"You needn't be, you know. You came clean and we'll be fine now."
"I want us to be so close," she said with conviction.
"Yes, we will be -- from now on. It's just going to get better. I promise."
"You're not angry?" Ellen looked at me almost quizzically.
"No, not at all. I wondered what really happened between you and Lee. I think I know now."
Ellen hesitated before answering. She took a deep breath and said, "It has happened before. I don't know why I do what I do. I just can't help myself sometimes." She began to weep again. "Lee got so angry with me when he caught me cheating on him." She wiped her eyes. "I didn't have affairs. I wouldn't do that. I loved Lee. I just had a few quick flings, like I did the other night. He couldn't handle it. I don't blame him for divorcing me. Sometimes I behave like a slut."
