End of an Affair

This story centers on a woman who is unfaithful to her husband, and how she deals with her emotions when the affair comes to a sudden and tragic end. If that plot doesn't suit your tastes, I would suggest you not read it. If you continue, I hope you enjoy a look inside the thoughts of a cheater who is forced to deal with her emotions in a sudden and unexpected manner.

As always, my stories are complete works of fiction, and all persons are of legal age. Your votes and comments are important to me, so after you read it, please share with me!

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"In local news, a man was killed this afternoon when the SUV he was driving lost control and crashed into a concrete bridge pillar on Simpson Street just beneath the Haney Expressway. Metro police say 48-year old Byron Evans was pronounced dead at the scene. It is believed that excessive speed may have been a contributing cause to the accident."

It was the 10:00 p.m. local news, which was on our television religiously every night. It was my husband's choice, and I rarely listened when it was on, but upon hearing the name Byron Evans read, I perked up immediately. I listened to the end of the report, but I wasn't exactly sure what I had heard. However, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my heart started beating rapidly at what I was afraid was going to be the worst news I had heard in a long time.

But I couldn't let on - I couldn't let my husband know that I was interested in that accident report. I thought about taking the remote and finding some of the other local news stations, but I was afraid that would look suspicious, since we don't ever watch the news on any other channel.

Then I remembered that the station's website carried print versions of the news report, and perhaps the written version had already been posted. I got up and pretended to stretch for a minute, then casually walked into the office adjacent to our living room. I wanted to sprint, because I needed to know. But again, my husband could not find out why I was looking.

Even though our computer was up to date with the latest processors, it seemed like it was taking forever to boot up. Finally the home screen appeared. I entered into Chrome and pulled up the TV station website. I scrolled down, looking for the local news section.

There it was - word for word, just as it had been read on the newscast a few minutes ago. The further I read, the more my tears flowed. Byron Evans was my partner in my ten-month-long illicit affair. The man with whom I'd been cheating on my husband was dead. I hung my head and sobbed...

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My name is Julie Harris. My husband's name is Richard, but he's been Rich since I've known him. We have two sons, both now with college degrees and doing well on their own, although neither has given us any grandchildren yet.

Rich and I met in college. We dated for about a year before he proposed to me on the campus quad the spring of our junior year. We waited until we graduated before we got married, although we certainly didn't wait on having sex that long. The first time Rich and I made love was magical, and quite frankly sealed the deal for me, since everything else about him seemed perfect.

We were both experienced before we met each other, so that was never an issue. Neither of us had a high number of partners previous to getting together. But we both knew what we liked and hoped for in a sexual partner, and I think we both liked what we saw in each other. In other words, we seemed to be going into marriage with the partner that was right for us.

We both went straight into careers following college - Rich in banking, and me as an elementary school teacher. When we had our kids, Rich was successful enough that I was able to stay home with my boys. It was tough, because one of the things I enjoyed about working was the camaraderie I experienced with my colleagues at the school where I taught. When my conversations were suddenly reduced to talking with my two young sons, I missed adult interaction.

But I managed, and I stayed at home until our youngest was able to drive to high school. I was proud of being a stay-at-home mom. I think it was a blessing to our kids, and my husband didn't have to worry about helping me keep the home in good shape, at least during the week.

But I was ready to get back out into the world again. Since my teaching certificate had expired long ago, I knew that wasn't an option anymore. So I began to look for other career possibilities, knowing that whatever I attempted, I was going to be entering on the ground floor with no training whatsoever.

Looking through help-wanted sites on the internet for our area, I was intrigued when I saw a real estate firm offering free training to help people get their realtor license. Being at home raising kids for most of my adult life, I had enjoyed reading various home magazines, especially the ones about decorating and home design. So I sent an email inquiry, and received a response the very next day. From that point I was accepted into the training program and received my license shortly thereafter. At our licensing ceremony, various real estate agencies were on hand looking to recruit new realtors, and I was able to secure a position with the Sunshine Agency. I've been fortunate enough to be in the $4 million sales club each of the past 5 years. I'm good at what I do.

Rich and I are still a very attractive couple. He is 6'2" tall, and keeps in good shape by visits to the gym three or four mornings a week. I don't have the gym membership, but I do try to walk as many steps per day as I can, while carefully watching what I eat. I'm just at 5'8" tall, with a medium build. Nearing 50, I know there are places on my body that don't look nearly as firm as they did 25 years ago. But overall I'm very pleased with how I've been able to maintain myself.

For the most part we have a very good marriage. Rich has always been a great provider. Several years ago, he was hired as a bank examiner, a job which requires him to be away from home when they spend several days visiting out of town banks. Fortunately, he waited until the boys were out of high school to take that new position, because he was always available to go to games and other activities in which the boys participated.

Sex with Rich was always great. He wasn't the biggest I've ever had, but he was attentive and thorough. I can't remember the last time he finished first and then rolled over and ignored me. Our sex seemed to be a partnership, just like our marriage, and he made sure that we were both getting our needs met.

As I'm sure happens with most couples, things slowed way down when the kids were born. I was careful not to jump Rich's bones when he came home from work each day, knowing he'd be tired, and I didn't want to appear to be a sex-starved shrew that only needed her husband for one reason. When we did have sex, it was still good, but our love-making had almost become routine during those years.

I was looking forward to the empty nest syndrome hitting our house, because I hoped our sexual activity would pick back up to where it was when we were first married. I even went out and bought some new lingerie to wear that first week our youngest was in college. It was supposed to be our time - spending the rest of our lives together enjoying each other as we settled into retirement.

But apparently his interest never came back. It seems like such a cliché now - woman in her 40's, rediscovering her sex drive while man in his 40's was letting his go. I was in a tough position - I felt like I needed it more, to validate the hope that he was still in love with me and still interested in my body and what it could do for him. But again, I didn't want to appear pushy and desperate. I wanted more sex, but I wanted it to be his idea. The impossible task was how to make that combination happen.

I read books and online articles and magazines about other women in my position. Some were able through counseling to make progress in their marriage, but many were like me - not wanting to push the issue for fear that I would be rejected to the point that he didn't want to stay married to me anymore. The thought of being single at my age wasn't appealing to me at all.

As I continued to read, I found that other women went outside the marriage to get the validation they needed that they were still attractive as sexual beings. Many of these women were just plain cheaters, finding their sexual needs fulfilled in a number of ways. Others had actually reached agreements with their husbands to have a "boyfriend" or two on the side, solely for the purpose of having their sexual needs met.

I had no desire to cheat on my husband at all, either illicitly or with his permission. I was raised in a good home with good values, and finding your life mate meant forever, no questions asked. So I had resigned myself to the frustration of trying to fulfill my sexual needs with my own hands, knowing that it wasn't as good as having my needs met by my husband.

But I also felt that it wasn't just my sexual needs that were going unfulfilled. I also missed the feeling of affection we used to share. When we first started dating, we did everything to be together, showing each other how important we were. Anywhere we went, we would hold hands, and quick little kisses were shared for no reason. He always made me feel attractive and wanted. Both of those things were important to me.

But now I wasn't sure if he even thought I was attractive. He'd come home from work - especially after being away on a bank review - and make himself comfortable in his chair in front of his TV. We had slipped into a routine of individuality - he in his place, and I in mine. The trouble is that our places never merged, never came together. His happiness meant coming home to a comfortable house, doing his things on his schedule. His happiness and my happiness were two completely different things, and mine wasn't present anymore.

There was never a time through all of this that I made a conscious decision to cheat on Rich. After all, I was still the good girl, the dutiful wife who knew marriage lasted a life time, and nobody was guaranteed that life would always be happy. With all that in mind, I did not go shopping for an affair partner. I did not want to be that person.

When Byron Evans came into my life, he and his wife Gloria were looking for a new house, and I was their real estate agent. Byron owned his own accounting firm, and had done very well in hiring the best accountants, paying them above the city average in order to attract and retain the best of the best. This allowed Byron and Gloria the chance to purchase a larger house in a trendy suburb. I arranged several showings that I felt were in line with what they were looking for.

The first couple of times I showed them properties, I didn't notice anything unusual. Byron and Gloria looked like a happy couple, hugging and holding hands. In fact, I remember feeling a little jealous that they had the affection in their marriage that was lacking in mine. Their love for each other drove me to look even harder for properties to show them. They deserved to be in their dream house, and I wanted to make that happen for them.

But things changed after those first two showings - at least in my mind. I would notice little differences in how Byron interacted with me. There were some opportune glances, particularly when I might be showing a little cleavage (little being the operative word, since my breasts are pretty small) or perhaps my skirt riding a little high as we looked in cabinets and closets. He would occasionally brush up against me. Initially I thought those were completely innocent and non-sexual, but as they continued, I realized they were purposeful moves.

At first I was flattered - those little gestures were part of the intimacy I was missing with Rich. It was great to feel attractive again! I began returning his glances with some of my own. I'd catch him looking at me, and when our eyes met, I would smile, letting him know that I was fine with his ogling. I also began learning the art of hiding my glances from Gloria. We'd make sure she was looking away, or perhaps even in another room in the house, before Byron and I would flirt with each other.

Gloria had very high standards for her next house, so that meant we viewed at least a dozen homes before we found one in which she fell in love. All the times we would be out looking at houses, the sexual chemistry between Byron and I increased. At first I pretended it didn't exist, and that my behavior could be justified by doing anything I could to sell a nice couple their dream home.

But that thought didn't last long, and it became clear to me that the possibility for more was available. I loved being the object of desire again! I loved the attention Byron was paying me. The longer it went on, the more I knew I wanted more.

I was sad the day I showed them a house that Gloria loved, because I knew if they were to get it, the showings would cease, and I wouldn't have any reason to see Byron anymore. As we toured that last house, and as Gloria began to see this was the one, she would go back to a specific room or area of the house, leaving Byron and I alone for a few seconds. We would look at each other with smiles on our faces, each one probably thinking impure thoughts as Gloria continued her tour. When we heard the back door open and saw her in the yard, Byron closed the space between us and kissed me, carefully hiding us away from the window so Gloria couldn't see. It was thrilling! We broke the kiss after about 5 seconds, but I wished it could have continued. We hurriedly went and joined Gloria in the back yard, and as we walked to join her, I could feel the unusual feeling of wetness between my legs. My body was reacting to a 5-second kiss - it liked what it experienced!

Byron and Gloria decided on the spot that this was the house they wanted. I went to my car to retrieve a blank copy of a "notice of intent to purchase" form, which was not an official contract yet, but indicated to the seller that the intent was there. They agreed on a price they wanted to offer, and I began to fill out the contract. I leaned over the breakfast bar as I filled in the form, and realized that I'd worn a blouse that was fairly low cut. As I leaned over, my bra-covered breasts were in full view, and I looked up to see Byron enjoying the view. Catching him looking at me like that did nothing to dry out my already moist panties.

The offer form signed, we parted ways - they back to their current residence and me to my office to send the form. At home that night, sitting with Rich watching TV after dinner, I couldn't help but flash back to the house showing earlier in the day, and in particular Byron's kiss, and his obvious interest in me. I felt tremendously guilty, and wondered if I should share what had happened with Rich. Instead, I figured that it was just a one-time mistake and I would be able to stop behavior like that from happening in the future. Telling Rich would just bring more attention to an individual lapse in judgment than it deserved.

The next day I received a counter proposal to the Evans' offer, so I called Gloria with the news. She told me she would call Byron and they would hear from me soon. In about 20 minutes, it was Byron calling me. He said they'd like to make another offer, but he wanted to see the house one more time before they did. We arranged a time to meet later that afternoon.

I arrived at the house about 10 minutes ahead of schedule, so I could go through and turn on lights and unlock doors. When I saw the Evans' car pull up, I expected to see both Gloria and Byron. However, when I noticed that only Byron got out of the car, my heart picked up a beat or two, remembering our encounter with him yesterday in this very same place.

Byron was smiling as he walked through the door. I had remembered the resolution I made last night that the kiss with him was a mistake that I wasn't going to make again. He walked over to me, and without stopping, reached out and placed his hands on my arms. I looked up at him and asked, "You wanted to see the house again?"

He smiled back at me and said, "Well, not really. I wanted to see the realtor again."

With that, he leaned down and kissed me, and all my resistance went out the window. Here was a man who was interested in me, who obviously wanted more than my professional assistance in buying a house. It had been a long time since I had felt wanted or needed like this, and I quickly gave in. We stood in the front room of that house kissing for what must have been at least five minutes. Once we stopped, he walked to the front door to make sure it was locked, while I re-locked the back and garage doors that I had just unlocked before he arrived.

We nervously approached each other again, only this time we were more aggressive in our kissing, using our hands to explore our bodies as our tongues explored each other. During one pause in our kissing, Byron said, "I've never done this before."

I just shook my head and said, "Me either, and I really hadn't planned it."

"I hadn't planned it either, but I knew once I saw you that my plans had changed. You are so beautiful and sexy and vibrant and I knew I wanted you."

His words caused my heart to swell. After getting no attention from my husband for so long, to know that Byron thought those things about me was the best news I'd heard in a long time. I embraced him once again, as he pawed his hands on my breasts and my ass. I realized then that I was going to let him fuck me. I realized that I was going to cheat on my husband.

There was no furniture in the house, so he led me over to the breakfast bar - the same one where he looked down my blouse at my breasts yesterday. Without much time, all we could do was to partially strip. He quickly took off his shoes and pants, and then leaned me over the breakfast bar and bunched my skirt up around my waist. He roughly grabbed my panties and yanked them down. My pussy was suddenly exposed to a man other than my husbands, but instead of feeling guilt, I only felt a craving to have his cock inside of me.

I looked back to see that Byron wasn't any bigger than my husband, but this wasn't about needing a different cock in me. It was all about feeling wanted, feeling attractive, and knowing that a man I barely knew wanted to fuck me. So when he guided himself inside, all of these feelings boiled over at once, and very uncharacteristically, I yelled out, "FUCK ME PLEASE!"

Fuck me he did. As he thrust in my married pussy, my position was where his upward angle was lifting my heels off the floor. He may have been similar in size, but the similarities ended there. His touch was different than Rich's - the manner in which he thrust in me was different - his eagerness to be in me was certainly different as well. I was in heaven - so many emotions were washing over me, and at the time they were all good. The thought that this was wrong was nowhere to be found.

It didn't take long for my orgasm to race through my body. I hung on to the edge of the bar as the waves of pleasure zinged through my extremities and back to my contracting pussy. Byron wasn't far behind, and with a final hard thrust, be began to flood me with his sperm.

It was at that moment that I panicked. I may have been nearing 50, but I had not gone through menopause yet, meaning it was likely that I was still fertile. The rare times that Rich did fuck me, we were safe because after our second child was born, he had a vasectomy. Now here I was, another man's sperm buried deep inside, worrying about becoming pregnant for the first time in nearly 25 years!

Byron could see the worry in my eyes. "What is it, Julie? Was that not good for you?"